#It’s just gotten worse and worse since I left. The last time I was home the landlord verbally assaulted me

[badkitty3000]

can u write a five x reader smut where five makes the reader watch him jerk off before fucking them

This request has been in my inbox for a LONG time...sorry. I set this during season four, and it's mixed with my usual sense of humor and confidently sexy Five 😉

Forced Confinement: Friends to Enemies to Lovers

Five x Female Reader-Insert, 5.7k words, one-shot, reader request

Warnings: Smut, explicit sex, masturbation

Summary: You and Five used to be friends. That is, until he got you stuck in the endless cycle of time traveling trains and no way home. Now he is the last person you want to be stuck with at the end of the world. But, after months of resentment and bickering, you and Five finally work out your differences

It had been eleven months. Eleven months since you and Five had taken that stupid fucking train to nowhere. Why you had let him talk you into going with him, you had no idea. You had been friends and you trusted him, sure, but that didn’t mean you wanted to skip out on the real world forever and live in captive domesticity for the rest of your life. You had wanted adventure and danger, which always seemed to follow Five wherever he went. But that’s not what this turned into. This had turned into playing house.

After nine months of mindless travel to various timelines that just seemed to get worse and worse, you were about ready to kill one another. The passive aggressive arguing had gradually turned into bickering, which then turned into outright shouting matches. You wanted to go home, god dammit! You didn’t care that time travel was tricky or unpredictable. He had gotten you into this mess and you demanded that he get you out of it.

To get you to shut up, Five had presented you with a temporary solution. When you came across a mostly still standing house with a greenhouse and clean water, he begrudgingly suggested that you two stay there for a few days. Just to relax, wash up a bit, and gather some food. It would also grant him some time to think about how to navigate this situation you were in. You had agreed, although you had scoped the crappy house out first to determine if there were separate living quarters. There was only one real bedroom, but Five conceded it to you and said he would take the living room floor.

A few days had turned into two months.

You knew he was trying his best. You knew that. And you knew he certainly had never meant to get you stuck in this endless loop of time travel fuckery. He had only been trying to save the world. Again. Only this time, he wanted company. And since you and he had become friends over the course of the five years you had been serving him large quantities of whiskey and beer at your bar, he had asked you.

It’s not that you were best buddies or anything. You had never hung out outside of the bar. But he was a frequent enough customer that you and he had a good rapport. You were comfortable around each other, which you had noticed for Five, was kind of a big deal. And maybe you were a little flirty with one another as well. Not that anything had ever happened between you, but the tension had been there.

So, when Five had come stumbling in one night, seemingly already drunk, and had plopped down on a barstool in front of you with a smart-ass grin on his face, you were intrigued. After a very confusing and convoluted story about something called “marigold” and Five having the power to teleport and time travel, you were already hooked.

How many times had you dreamed of doing something amazing? Something so incredibly exciting and weird that when you told your friends all about it later, they wouldn’t believe you? It was just one of those silly fantasies that never left your head. But the longer you ran that bar, and the more comfortable you got pouring shots and mixing drinks for others, the less likely it became that your fantasy would ever be realized.

But time traveling subway trains and teleportation powers? It was everything you had been waiting for! When he told you his idea of trying to get to the correct timeline and stop another apocalypse from happening, you barely even hesitated.

In those first couple of months, you didn’t really mind being lost with no real way to get back home. It was still exciting and you were getting along great back then. He confided in you; told you he had asked you along because you were his only real friend and he just didn’t want to face the unknown alone again. He had apologized when it became clear he was just as lost as you were, and he promised to get you back safely. You made each other laugh, and invented stupid games to kill the boredom, and would cuddle up together on cold nights even though there was nothing romantic going on. Those were the good times.

But now…now, it was like the two of you were living in some bad sitcom with no laugh track. Five was still good looking, there was no getting around that. Even when he was grubby and dirty and his deodorant gave out months ago. Yes, he was hot, you could admit that. But that wasn’t quite enough to cover the fact that he was an arrogant, know-it-all asshole that was systematically ruining your life. You missed your bed. And your bar. And god, what you wouldn’t do for some fucking fast food. You had dreams about McDonald’s French fries and if Ronald McDonald himself had come walking up to you and told you he’d give you a Big Mac if you sucked his dick, you’d be on your knees in a second. That’s what this had come to; you would blow a clown for a hamburger.

Instead, here you were, in some bullshit little Hobbit house, listening to Five’s snoring from the other room. And if you had to eat another fucking strawberry, you were going to vomit. You would rather eat a dozen half-cooked subway rats than choke down another one of those god damn red berries. Sometimes you laid awake at night, envisioning Five choking on one, his eyes bulging as he panicked and tried unsuccessfully to get air through his blocked trachea. It brought a small amount of comfort to you. Until the morning, when you walked out and saw there were no animals in your traps, and you wanted to cry. No meat. Only fucking strawberries.

“We need more water,” you told him as you came out of the green house where the first few sprouts of cucumbers and green beans were finally starting to come through.

“So? Go get some, then,” Five muttered back at you, his head buried in a notebook while he sat at the wobbly kitchen table.

“No. I’m always the one that has to go get the water. It’s your turn.”

Five glanced up briefly, then looked back down at his incoherent scribblings. “I’m busy.”

“You’re busy?” you asked incredulously. “How the fuck is making little pictures in a book busy?”

He looked up again, his worn-down pencil paused in midair. His eyes narrowed. “They are not little pictures. They are complex mathematical equations that your simpleton mind cannot possibly understand.”

You snorted. “Fuck you.”

One corner of his mouth turned up just slightly and he set his pencil down, leaning back in his chair and draping one arm over the back. Fuck, if he didn’t look amazingly hot like that. Asshole.

“You’d like that, wouldn’t you?”

“What in the hell are you talking about?”

He scoffed. “Don’t play dumb. You’ve been eye-fucking me since we got here. Actually, since before we got here.”

Your eyes widened in disbelief. “What the…are you delusional? Did you hit your head the last time you were out scavenging? I have, under no circumstances, been eye-fucking you.”

“Ok, sure…whatever you have to tell yourself.”

You placed a hand on your hip and tilted your head to the side. “If anyone is eye-fucking anyone, it’s you to me. I see the way you just so happen to look in my direction when I’m changing clothes.”

“If I do that, it’s only because I want to make sure you’re actually changing into something new instead of wearing that shitty old tank top that smells like dead rats.”

“That is my best tank top! And look who’s talking. Who wears a suit in a fucking apocalypse? It’s insane!”

“At least I don’t walk around with my tits half hanging out. I mean, fuck, those things are going to knock you out the next time you have to run from anything. It’s like you’re just begging for attention.”

You smiled. “Oh, I just bet you’d love to see me running with my tits hanging out, wouldn’t you? Probably play right into some weird-ass Baywatch fantasy you have.”

“Don’t flatter yourself, sweetheart.” He tossed his head so that the piece of hair in his eyes flicked out of the way. “You are wearing the literal last pair of tits in the world right now and I wouldn’t care if you slathered them in baby oil and shoved them in my face.”

You watched as his eyes moved briefly to your chest before landing on your face again. You smirked. “Gosh, Five, you’re right. I don’t know what I was thinking. Of course you don’t want anything do with these.” You ran your hands up your sides and rested them on your breasts. Then you began to rub them and squeeze them together, all while looking him directly in the eye. You gave a little moan and licked your lips. It was subtle, but you saw him swallow and shift in his seat.

Five rolled his eyes, but you could tell you had gotten to him. “While the tits themselves may be alluring, there is the unfortunate fact that they are attached to the body that is powered by your idiot brain. Therefore…not interested.”

You gave them another hard push together, and then let out a short laugh before dropping your hands. “That’s what I thought.”

“What did you think?”

“That you’re a dickless asshole”

Five flashed you that devious smile that you had come to associate with an unfortunate fluttering inside your stomach. “I’ll concede to being an asshole. But dickless? Quite the opposite, sweetheart.”

Your mouth went dry at that implication and you momentarily had a loss for words. After a couple of seconds, though, you regained your cool.

“As much as I’m sure you’d just love to whip out your little pickle dick right now, how about you get your scrawny ass up and go get us some water? Sweetheart.”

Five gave a short laugh. “And as much as I’m sure you’d love to be choking on my pickle right now, like I told you…” He pointed his pencil at the notebook. “I’m busy.”

Without another word, he lowered his head and started scribbling again, ignoring you completely. Your mouth opened in another retaliation, but then it snapped closed again. There was no point in continuing your little childish spat. Five was a stubborn old bastard and it was a waste of time. You might as well go get the damn water yourself.

Giving a loud, dramatic huff, you flipped your hair over your shoulder and stomped away. You did happen to notice, though, that Five looked up to watch you leave. So, as a final act of brattiness, just before you were out of sight, you made sure to bend over and act like you were tying your shoe while wiggling your ass in the air. Which, if Five had the oversized brain he was always saying he did, he would remember that your shoelaces had disintegrated a month ago.

As you angrily made your way to the old well that was your water source, you mumbled out loud to yourself.

“He thinks he’s so fucking smart. Well, he’s not. Just because you’re a smoking hot asshole does not mean you’re a genius, I guarantee you.”

You tripped over a rock and you cursed before continuing on. “And he is dreaming if he thinks I’m the one that wants to fuck him. Granted, it has been a long time since I got laid, but still. I think I can do better than Five Hargreeves, even if he is the last man on earth.”

You approached the old-fashioned well pump that was still in service and started pumping, much more vigorously than needed while you ranted to no one. “Honestly, he is so hard up for some ass, it’s embarrassingly obvious. But, good luck buddy, because that ain’t happening.”

You watched thoughtfully as the water slowly poured into the plastic bucket that served as your portable water reservoir. You stared into the distance; the landscape not quite as bleak as the others you had seen. This one at least had some trees and wildlife. “Still…I did see him shirtless that one time and I can’t seem to get that little image out of my brain. The guy has sex appeal, there’s no doubt about that. And I suppose he’s not all bad. He did let me take the bed, after all. He hasn’t even tried anything, either, which I suppose makes him kind of a gentleman.”

You gave the well a few more pumps to fill the last of the bucket. “But why hasn’t he tried anything? Maybe he doesn’t think I’m attractive? He said he likes women, though. I wonder if he jerks off when I’m not around?”

You smiled to yourself, feeling your chest tighten a little at the thought. “I guess I’d be lying if I said I hadn’t used him as motivation for my own hand-fucking. He might be annoying but I bet he can deliver in certain areas.” You paused a moment more and sighed angrily, looking toward the sky. “Damn it…now I’m horny!” The water started overflowing in the bucket and you realized you’d been pumping the well for too long, wasting your most precious resource.

“Shit!” You stared at the dusty ground that was now turning into a muddy puddle around your feet. “He doesn’t need to know about this, that’s for sure. I don’t need yet another lecture on water preservation.”

Hoisting up the bucket, and holding it against your chest because the handle had given out a week ago, you started back towards the house.

“I’m going insane,” you panted as you made your way up the slight incline. “It’s official; I’ve finally lost it. Stuck out here in the middle of nowhere and talking to myself. Cool.”

As you walked into the house, the water bucket was partially obstructing your view and it sloshed water down your front as you set it heavily down on the floor.

“There,” you declared, out of breath. “Here’s the water, no thanks to – Oh holy shit!”

When you had looked up, you had been assaulted with the sight of Five pleasuring himself right there in your cozy kitchen. You froze, taking in the sight, not able to look away. He was on full display, with the chair pushed out from the table, facing the doorway. His shirt was open, sleeves cuffed up, head thrown back, eyes closed, pants undone, and his cock in his hand. He was languidly stroking himself, appearing to not be in a hurry to finish the job, while he sat there with his legs spread open for all to see. Well, not all to see…just you.

“Oh my god, I’m sorry…shit…what are you? Ok, never mind, um…I’m gonna, yeah, just go…” you stammered while still staring directly at the obscenity before you.

You said you were going to go, but you were rooted to the spot. Eventually, after what seemed like an inordinate amount of time considering what was happening, Five opened his eyes and looked at you. No, not looked. Stared at you. Those bright green eyes bored into you and a small smirk played on his lips.

Still panicking, but also confused as to the very real sensation of moisture not caused by the bucket of water forming between your legs, you abruptly turned to leave.

“Stop.”

Five’s voice was different than usual. Harder. Commanding. And you inexplicably stopped in your tracks.

“Turn around.”

You obeyed and slowly spun around, nervous as to what you might see, or have him see. You were sure the look on your face would give you away.

Five hadn’t moved. He was still stroking himself and he looked like he didn’t have one ounce of shame about it, either.

You swallowed hard. “What…”

“I decided after your little show earlier that I just couldn’t help myself. And now that you’ve got some wet t-shirt action going on, I’m going to need you to stay. I think you owe me that.”

Looking down at yourself, you saw that the spilled water had created a nearly see-through situation over your chest. Even your bra was soaked through, and your nipples were visible through the thin fabric. When you glanced back up, you bit at your lower lip. Despite the blush growing across your cheeks, you were intrigued with this new game.

“Owe you?” you asked, your voice cracking as you tried to keep your cool.

Five groaned quietly, picking up his pace and ignoring your question. “You really do have magnificent tits. Now, take that ratty ass top off.”

You couldn’t believe you were actually going along with his demands. You should be telling him to fuck off and throwing the nearest heavy object toward his head. Instead, you found yourself holding his eye contact while you slowly stripped your wet shirt away and dropped it onto the floor.

There was another deep moan from Five as he worked his shaft over with his whole hand, his breathing becoming louder.

“Bra,” he rasped.

As you unhooked your bra and let it fall on top of your shirt, you smiled at his reaction.

“Fuck honey…I’ve been dreaming about these tits for so long and they do not disappoint.” He groaned low in his throat again. “Perfect.”

You eyed him up and down, taking in the detail of his cock as his fist slid easily over it. It was most definitely impressive. Much more than you had imagined and you found yourself running your tongue over your bottom lip involuntarily.

“Shit, Five…I guess you weren’t kidding. Definitely not dickless.”

“You like what you see?” he asked, looking out under the pieces of hair that had flopped in front of his eyes.

You nodded, and then began to move closer in. “Yeah, I do.”

Five shook his head, pausing his fist fucking momentarily. “I don’t think so, honey. Not yet.”

“Not yet what?” you asked, thoroughly confused. Did he not want you to jump on top of him?

“I know you’re just dying for my cock to be buried deep inside you right now, but you’re going to have to wait. That’s your punishment.”

With your eyebrows drawn together, you suddenly felt very stupid standing there topless while he continued to jack off.

“What the hell…what do you mean? Punishment for what?”

“For walking around all bitchy and complaining about everything. All while throwing your body in my face and leaving me high and dry.”

“What!? You’re the one that has been the asshole –”

“Shut up, sweetheart. I don’t need to hear your mouth. I just need to look at you. Now drop your pants.”

It took a minute for your mind to comprehend just what the fuck was going on here. Five Hargreeves, your friend turned enemy turned…jack off partner?...was ordering you around like you were his own personal interactive porno mag. And you fucking liked it.

As you started unbuttoning your shorts, you gave him a lopsided smile. “So, how long have you been using me as your whack-a-thon inspiration?”

“I could ask you the same,” he snarked back before working just a little harder when your pants came off.

“Since about 3 months in,” you admitted with a shrug, pushing your panties all of the way off.

“Fuuuck,” Five groaned loudly, closing his eyes briefly before scanning your body hungrily. “I think I lasted 2 weeks.”

You laughed, leaning back against the table with your hands behind you as you pushed out your chest. When your eyes caught his again, you let out a soft whimper.

“Damnit…I really want to fuck you right now.”

“I know, darling,” he responded, his voice dripping with condescension. “You’ve made that quite obvious.”

Neither of you said anything more for a moment. The room was filled with the sound of your collective heavy breathing and the slapping noises as Five jacked himself hard and fast. You could see the beads of pre-cum forming around the head. On a whim, you decided to lean in, bending down with your mouth open and tongue out, to daintily lick up the tempting drops. Five growled and flung his head back again while you gave one more flick of your tongue over the slit and backed away again.

“Finger yourself,” he grunted out.

When you smirked, licking all four of your fingers before lowering them between your legs, the sound Five made, a shaking, guttural sound, had you thinking he was on the verge of blowing his load. But he only seemed to concentrate harder, working his fist over his thick shaft. You watched as his thumb traced the underside of his swollen tip, the veins that ran from top to bottom prominently on display. You had never really thought the sight of a man pleasuring himself in front of you would be that hot, but the wetness dripping out of you right now proved that maybe it just depended on the man.

Because watching Five unabashedly fuck himself; his left hand tight around his cock and his hips jerking up in response; the tendons in his forearm taught and straining; his hair hanging messily around his face, his eyes never leaving yours; had you more worked up than you had ever been in your life.

“Fuck, Five,” you moaned as your own hand began to move through your slick folds.

“Damn it, I’m going to come. On your knees,” he growled through clenched teeth.

You dropped down without a second thought, just blindly following his orders. Your hand was still working furiously, and you were unsure if he wanted you to suck his dick or not, so you just waited for further instructions. When he groaned loudly and shifted forward in the chair, his own hand moving fast, you realized what he was going to do.

“Don’t you dare come on my face,” you rasped out. You removed your fingers from yourself so that you could lean back, exposing your chest at a better angle.

With a strangled moan that sounded like some sort of wounded animal, Five bit at his bottom lip while he came; long ropes of cum covering your chest and dripping down your stomach as he unloaded onto you again and again. You watched his face as it contorted in orgasmic bliss before finally relaxing again, his hand slowing, and his body easing back into the chair.

“Fucking hell,” he whispered through heaving breaths; eyes still closed. “You have no idea how much I needed that.”

As you knelt before him, covered in his semen, and still horny, you frowned. “Good for you.”

When he opened his eyes, he had the nerve to laugh and he shook his head. “Give me a minute, ok? I might have a fairly quick refractory period, but it’s not immediate.”

“Hmm, yeah. Likely story,” you said under your breath, although your mouth twitched up with amusement as you stood up. “I’m going to use our most precious resource to wash up.”

“Use it sparingly,” Five reminded you.

“I think I’ll use as much as I want, considering it’s your cum that’s currently drying all over my tits right now.”

“Fair,” Five said with a breathy laugh.

After you found one of the clean rags that doubled as a washcloth, you dipped it in the bucket of cool water and started to wipe at your chest. Five watched you bend over, ringing out the cloth and letting the water run down your breasts and abdomen. His refractory period may not have been instant, but watching you like that was most definitely speeding the process along.

While you were enjoying giving him this show, what you really wanted was a little more satisfaction than just watching him jerking off. With your body as cum-free as it was going to be for the moment, you sauntered back over to Five who was still sitting in the same chair; pants open and semi-hard dick out. When you stood in front of him, he looked up at you through the fringe of hair covering his eyes, that damn smirk of his playing on his lips. Without even thinking, you hauled your right hand back and smacked him across the face.

As he raised a hand to his stinging cheek, he glared up at you. “What the hell was that for?”

With a smile, you straddled his lap, draping both arms over his shoulders and leaning in to kiss him. After biting at his bottom lip, you pulled back.

“That was for stranding me here in this hell hole.” You kissed him again, tugging hard at his hair at the back of his head. “And for being the world’s biggest prick.” Your groin slid over his hard cock and he grunted. “And for looking so fucking hot all the time.”

Five grabbed your chin in his hand, holding you steady as he gazed into your eyes; his deep green ones sparkling as that arrogant look crossed his face again. Gripping your ass tightly with both hands, Five stood up, taking you with him as he slammed your body down onto the rickety kitchen table. When your back hit the wooden top with a thud, the pedestal holding it up wobbled dangerously underneath. You huffed out a loud breath from the impact.

Standing between your legs that were still wrapped around his waist, Five reached down between you, grasping his hard cock and rubbing the tip against your clit. When you gave a tiny whimper, he nodded.

“I’m sorry I got you stuck here. And I’m working on being less of a prick. As for looking hot all the time? That I can’t help so much,” he said with a grin, continuing to massage your slit by running his dick up and down, spreading your wetness over both of you.

“Asshole,” you rasped after sucking in a loud gulp of air. Your hands clutched at the edge of the table and your hips rocked against him.

He shook his head, closing his eyes with a moan before locking onto yours again. “No. If I were an asshole, I would have done what I’ve been dying to do for months now.”

“Which is?”

“Sliding into bed with you in the middle of the night and waking you up with my dick shoved between your legs.”

Your head tipped back as you tried to push yourself harder into his cock that was continually sliding over you in just the right spot. “Oh shit, Five…I wish you would have.”

“You’d like that, huh?”

You nodded. “I’d still have kicked your ass, but not before I’d let you fuck my brains out.”

“How about I fuck your brains out now and we can discuss kicking my ass later?”

“Sounds good,” you breathed out.

Five used his hand to guide himself inside of you. Once the head of his cock was inside, he thrust himself into you, impaling you on his sizeable dick, and watching your face for your reaction.

“Oh god…” you cried, gritting your teeth against the intensity.

“You ok?” he asked as his hands traveled over your thighs, sides, and hips.

You nodded. “Yeah. Definitely ok. Fuck, that feels good.”

With a self-satisfied smirk, Five grabbed your ass tightly with both hands, squeezing each cheek hard and digging his fingers into your flesh. When he started to guide you by pushing and pulling you over his shaft, you let him take full control of your body. With your arms splayed to the sides and your head tipped back against the table top, you wanted him to break you down; strip you of your inhibitions, and make you his.

“Shit…” he hissed through his teeth. “I need…fuck…I need more of you.”

Without warning or consent, he pulled you roughly up by one hand before pulling out of you and yanking you off the table to standing again. Not sure what his game plan was, you just stood there until he stepped out of his pants that had dropped around his ankles, and held you tightly to him. With a long kiss that made you momentarily forget where you were, he pulled back again.

“Floor,” he gasped.

Despite having a perfectly good bed in the other room, you were thinking the same thing he was. There was no time for relocation. You needed him inside of you again. Immediately. Hands clutching at one another, you both clumsily dropped to the floor. There was a moment of ungraceful maneuvering while you hastily repositioned yourself, but once Five was on his back and you were mounting him again, his dick slid inside once more and you let out a high-pitched whine.

In between grunts and whimpers as you started to move your hips, you attacked his mouth, face, and neck with kisses. Eventually, one of his hands came to rest in your hair. When you looked him in the eyes, he was smiling. Not his normal, asshole smirk. An actual, affectionate smile.

“I’m not sure why we waited this long,” he said before kissing you deeply, while also bucking his hips up, driving his dick in harder.

“Because we hated one another,” you explained as he sucked kisses onto your neck.

“Not always…fuuckk…” he moaned when you slammed harder on top of him.

“I kind of don’t hate you now.”

Five laughed and squeezed one of your breasts in his hand, hard enough to make you hiss through your teeth.

“Five….” you whined.

“Keep fucking me, baby. Harder.”

You were fucking him as hard as you possibly could. So hard that you were seriously concerned about the health of your knees as they bore most of your weight and dug into the hard dirt floor of your crappy kitchen. But that didn’t stop you. Riding his dick like it was somehow essential to your existence, you had never wanted anyone more than you did right then. You couldn’t control the loud cries and broken sobs that filled the small kitchen, and Five wasn’t exactly being quiet either.

“Oh shit, honey…please keep doing that…I’ve wanted this so badly.”

After one more long kiss, you could feel your body start to reach its climax. As Five grasped your hips again, working you over even faster, you let yourself go with a broken moan that got louder the more your body reacted to his. With your back arched, head tipped back, and your hips twitching wildly, Five clenched his teeth and looked down between your bodies. He could see the white lather of your arousal coating his cock. With a husky growl, Five pushed you down and came inside you.

Gasping for air, you collapsed into him, chests heaving against one another. He held you loosely, his hands idly caressing your back and hair.

“Five?” you panted; nuzzling your nose and mouth into the side of his sweat-damp neck.

“Yeah?”

“If you had been fucking me like that this whole time, these last several months could have been much more enjoyable.”

He let out a breathy laugh. “If I were more confident in my time travel skills, I would go back and remedy that.”

As your playful kisses traveled over his neck and cheek, you gave him one last, deep kiss on his mouth before pulling back again. You stared deeply into his eyes that you only just now realized were so easy to get lost in.

Moving a stray piece of hair from his forehead, you smiled sweetly. “While I definitely would not mind more of your amazing dick action, I am going to murder you if I have to spend one more day in this strawberry hellhole.”

Five matched your snarky grin with his own, and smacked your ass swiftly. “Off.”

Rolling your eyes, but not able to hide the blush that dusted your cheeks again when he took that tone with you, you unfurled yourself from his body and stood up. Offering a hand out, you helped Five to his feet.

“While the thought crossed my mind to leave you in the dark just so I can get some more action, I don’t have the heart. Look,” he said as he pointed to his notebook that had just recently been pinned under your body on the table.

When you looked closer at his illegible scrawls, you frowned. “I don’t get it.”

“I did it.”

You looked back over at him with raised eyebrows. “Did what?”

“Found our way home. While you were out getting water, I figured it out.”

As the realization of what he was saying washed over you, you shrieked and threw your arms around his shoulders, pulling his damp, naked body into yours. “Five! Oh my god, you did it! We can go home?”

He nodded, a giant smile growing over his face. “I think so. And I think I figured it out so that we will have time to stop the whole mess that was starting to go down before we left, too. I think we can save the world.”

“Oh my god! This is amazing!” You pulled him tighter and kissed him hard on the lips, still smiling. “Five, you’re amazing!” Then a thought came to you and you tilted your head to the side. “Hang on…if you figured this out while I was out getting water…were you really jerking off to thoughts of me, or just your own mathematical genius?”

Five shrugged with that sexy, lopsided smile of his. “Can’t it be a little of both?”

“Holy shit,” you laughed. “Let’s get the fuck out of here and go home.”

Five pulled you close with a jerk, his arm around your waist and his hand resting securely on the small of your back. With a look that made your heart flip in your chest and your knees weak and wobbly, Five leaned in to kiss you, biting gently at your lips before pulling away and rubbing his cheek across yours.

“Why leave now? We have all the time in the world and things were just getting good,” he said, his voice low and smooth; the rush of his hot breath down your neck sending shivers down your spine.

“Ok,” you breathed out before tipping your head back so he could access your neck. “What’s a few more days?”

[matrixbearer2024]

Based on poll, here's some stuff about Athena + sketchies of her that I will eventually finish digitally. I totally didn't stay up until 4 am to finish these doodles-

Audaces fortuna juvat

- Athena "F" Pines

Named after the Greek goddess of wisdom and war 'Athena' and the english scientist 'Michael Faraday', she is the youngest of Ford's triplets and inherited his polydactyly! (She also inherited his felony of a fashion sense but let's gloss over that.)

Compared to her siblings, she normally covers up entirely just by preference and not because she's hiding something(like Max is). No she doesn't die in the summer heat despite turtlenecks and sweaters because she runs cold and would sooner freeze than melt.

Teena's a daddy's girl through and through, to the point that she and Max would fuss on sharing papa Sixer back when they were babies. Thank goodness Fordsy had two hands!

She's likely the most pragmatic of her siblings but not the most cynical or paranoid. Her most common mood is just tired, since she mostly runs on energy drinks and pastries.

Teena's not really one for candy either so she doesn't even dive for the groceries when somebody brings home jelly beans like the men in her family. When she does indulge though, you can find her eating dark chocolate.

Is practically allergic to color and frankly her closet looks like it was meant for 20s television. Just blacks, whites, greys and some other muted shades. At least she doesn't wear the same thing over and over again compared to her father.

Doesn't denounce dresses but finds them quite impractical and would rather wear cargo pants. Again, pragmatic. She's also quite tomboyish in nature which Mabel finds odd and Dipper thinks is interesting. Her laid back nature reminds Dipdip of Wendy to a different degree but the semblance is so fleeting he just usually shrugs it off when he notices. (Planning to have Teena actually be Aro: Demiromantic, she just doesn't know that there's a label for that yet LOL)

I wouldn't say that she is the closest to Ford however, she used to be back when she was a kid- but as an adult it's a different story. With her fractured family and blatantly obvious mutation, by the time she left to pursue a doctorate in Biomedical Engineering at Duke University(North Carolina) she was already slightly harboring a sense of disdain for her mutation and anything odd.

The teasing and taunting only got worse in university as well, she wanted to become a medical doctor to practice orthopedics but made a promise with her siblings that they'd only pursue their dreams once they've gotten their dad back- hence the engineering bit and why she didn't even go through to med proper. She did figure out she had a passion for tinkering and robotics though.

Her peers were not kind, people were absolutely more accepting compared to Ford's time but she was still branded as weird or odd and the disdain for her uniqueness grew. She put everything off for as long as she could, only returning to Gravity Falls in 2010 after her siblings started calling and looking for her. At that point, Teena figured she couldn't just stay away forever so she bit the bullet and returned to gravity falls despite her hesitation. She was the last push they needed to completely fix the portal; problem being that they didn't have an iota of how the hell they would turn it on.

So yeah, that's why Dipper and Mabel are still pivotal in helping them all make amends as it stands(also finding the journals-). Haven't completely explained why for the other two yet, but that'll be in a separate post. Anyhow, enjoy and don't forget that my inbox is always open to asks or requests for fics or even about these guys!

[bolyde]

I am taking an unplanned trip back home! My flight leaves fairly early tomorrow. Due to a lot of issues with our land lord refusing to fix issues I’m going home to help my mother consolidate a bunch of my belongings just in case the apartment gets red tagged in the following months.

I intend to do some writing while away, but I genuinely don’t know how busy I’m going to be. There’s approximately 26 years worth of items to go through and while I cleaned a lot before moving cross country, there’s still a ton.

Upside: cat photos when I get home

[steviescrystals]

i seriously need to get a new job and start making money again asap bc i cannot keep living at home much longer it’s driving me insane

(wrote an entire essay in the tags without meaning to oops)

[kavehology]

Summary : your husband and your son forgot their lunch at home so you decide to drop it off for him as a surprise...

Warnings? : fluff, Megumi lives with you guys and calls you mum, Yuji and Nobara have no idea Gojo is in a relationship , tbh I have no idea what else to add.

Notes : let's forget the fact that Megumi lives in the dorms in the show. He lives with you and Gojo since when Gojo found him he made you and him his legal guardians🫶 THIS IS MY REDEMPTION POST FOR THE LAST ONE😭

Gojo x wife!reader

The sound of your husband's alarm had woken you up at 7:30am, you thought that he would wake up and turn it off so that he could get ready for the day but for some goddamn reason he still hadn't rolled over and turned it off so you sat up and leaned over him so that you could turn it off yourself. Just as you had swiped up and shut off the rather annoying noise you could hear your husband mumble a playful "Thank you babe" into your stomach. Scoffing you leaned back over him and positioned yourself on your elbow staring down at his stupid grin.

"Are you going to get up and get ready now? Just how long were you awake?" You had asked with a small yawn. "Since the alarm went off" he replied with a cheeky grin. You gave him a light slap on the shoulder and flopped on top of him as he littered small pecks all over your checks and wrapped his arms around your back. "And I think I'll stay like this for a while, all cozied up with you" he sighed out as he pressed yet another kiss to the crown of your head. It was peaceful for a while before you decided that it has been long enough and told him that he had to get up and has yet to see if Megumi is awake.

With a groan Gojo let go of you and went to sit up while stretching. You had rolled over and pulled the covers up to fall back asleep, which is something you usually do after spending some morning time with your husband. After Gojo had gotten dressed he had realized that he was actually late because he had spent so much time cuddling with you and hadn't realized that time was slowly ticking away, so quickly he rushed out of the room and woke up an annoyed Megumi and rushed back to your room and placed a quick kiss to your forehead and a "love you" before him and Megumi rushed out of the door completely forgetting to pack themselves lunches.

It had been two or three hours since the boys had left when you had woken up. You yawned and got up slipping on some slippers and a gown then went downstairs to make yourself some tea, when you had noticed that not only had Gojo forgotten his lunch but Megumi had too. So you checked the time which was around 10:30am meaning they would have been still be in class and decided on bringing their lunches to them as a surprise (and an excuse for you to see your boys.) After you had gotten dressed into something casual you grabbed their lunches and popped them into a little tote bag and put some candies with a soda each in there too as a treat and then started making your way to the school.

As you were walking down the halls you had crossed paths with Shoko and had a little chat since you hadn't seen her for a while and then asked her which class was Gojos. After she had given you directions to his class you two exchanged hugs before you made your way to his class. As you made your way down the halls to your husband's classroom you could see the room just at the end of the hall so you speed up a little, getting a little nervous as you got closer to the room. The moment you got to the door you could hear the chatter of students and Gojo inside the room so you felt a little relieved to know you had the right class and lifted your hand to knock but your nerves got worse when you could hear that the whole class went silent as you knocked. You could hear a muffled "come in!" from the other side and slid the door open to reveal your husband at his desk staring at the door. As you stepped in you gave a soft smile to Gojo as he gave you a surprised look and got up.

It's like his whole personality switched the moment he realized it was you because he instantly looked more cheerful as he bound towards you with that cheeky grin on his face

"Baby! What are you doing here?" He said as he wrapped you in a hug. You hugged him back before responding. "You and Gumi forgot your lunch this morning when you left" extending the bag out to Gojo he looked inside and grabbed the sweets happily. "Oh! Thanks babe, you're the best!" You gave him a deadpan look and grabbed one of the sodas and one of the lunches and walked over to Megumi's desk and placed them down gently. "Next time you need to set an alarm to bud" You said playfully while ruffling his hair as he grumbled. You walked back over to Gojo and placed the bag next to his desk and then asked if Gojo needed anything to which he replied with "Yes, a kiss" which was probably one of the cheesiest things he said all week. But when you leaned down to give him a kiss you failed to notice the other two students staring at you like their eyes about to pop out of their head (mainly Nobara.)

"HUAAAH?! SINCE WHEN COULD HE PULL?!" You had suddenly heard from the girl in the class which made you halt your movements and stare over at the students. You then had noticed how Megumi was in the seat closest to the door covering his head in embarrassment, the girl in the middle and the pink haired boy closest to the window. You looked curiously between them and your husband before he laughed and stood up putting a hand on your shoulder. "Babe these are my students Kugisaki and Itadori! They're first years." You waved sweetly at them and Nobara had scrambled out of her seat and up to you before she slapped Gojo's hands away and replaced them with hers "PLEASE LADY YOU CAN DO SO MUCH BETTER" she cried out while shaking you around as if that would do anything. You hadn't said anything at all throughout this whole ordeal until Megumi had yanked her away and scolding her for not even giving you any time to think. You thanked Megumi as you steadied yourself a little and smiled at the boy.

You stayed behind to chat with the kids and your husband for around an hour since they started to like you more than you intended. You had found out that Itadori was the vessel for the king of curses, Sukuna, and you had voiced how you felt bad for him since Itadori is such a lovely kid but he reassured you that he was fine and that he can handle it and then you found out that Nobara is the drama queen of the group and is really confident in her opinions and in what she does, she also seemed to gain quite the liking to you since while you were in the class you would have a couple jabs at your husband whenever Megumi and Nobara had goes at him.

After about an hour you decided that you would head home since you had some chores to do like laundry and dishes that the boys hadn't cleaned the night before. You gave Megumi a hug and a kiss and a "Love you Gumi, be safe okay? Don't get too hurt" which gained the response of a muffled "Love you too mum" since he was a little embarrassed and then you went up to your child of a husband and hugged him before he started complaining about not getting a kiss too so you placed a gentle kiss to his lips and mumbles "love you my toru" and ruffled his hair before leaving the class to a cheerful Gojo and an embarrassed Megumi.

GUH I HOPE THERE AREN'T MANY GRAMMAR MISTAKES IN THIS 💔💔

[fictionismyreality3]

Can we have a smut of stalker Jason with somnophilia and crazy to eat pussy? Plsss

I mean, Jason is a natural fucking pussy eater.

AND I'M HAPPY TO HAVE PLACED YOUR FIRST RESQUET!!

Can I be the 💦 anon? To u know that is me

Too Much to Take (18+)

Jason Todd x Reader

Tags: Smut, stalker!jason todd, possessive!jason todd

Warnings: romance and everything that comes with it, somnophilia, stalking, dubcon, guns, drugs, little to no aftercare.

Notes: hi babes!! I’m so so sorry this took so long, a bear ate my phone. My beautiful 💦 your request is much appreciated. I know it’s unrealistic that the reader never wakes up but I have nevER EVER BEEN HAPPIER.

The cool, night breeze of Bludhaven blew the white chiffon curtains your mother had gotten you in the wind. Across from your bed sat a gorgeous, kingly armchair where you loved to sit and read. Your apartment was carefully decorated by your artful hands, each piece put perfectly in its place. When you got home everyday, you knew you would be returning to a safe, cozy home full of memories and comfort items. Everything was just how it should be.

That’s why the man standing in your apartment was so out of place.

You were asleep, of course. Knocked out after a long day running errands. Your bed had welcomed you warmly, and you couldn’t resist cracking open your window just a little bit, wanting to savour the start of spring.

You knew the automatic danger that came with living in Bludhaven, but you’d saved up enough to move to a nicer area, and your apartment was on the 8th floor of your building. Surely, nobody would bother risking the fall.

Surely.

It had been three days since Jason had first saw you. Three days too long since he’d seen you in person. He’d watched you nearly every minute of the last 72 hours, consuming every ounce of information he could find about you and your life.

His shift watching over Bludhaven ended tomorrow, when Dick would be returning from wherever he went. So, he only had around a day left of viable excuse to be near you. After that, finding a reason to be in Bludhaven even longer would be his main priority. It was clear that he’d already be wherever you were. The thought of not being able to reach you was enough to shatter what little was left of his soul.

No, no, there was no going back now.

And so, Jason found himself perched on the rooftop across from your building, the endless Bludhaven rain pelting across his broad shoulders.

He spent the first few moments watching you carry out your night routine. It was all things many people in Bludhaven overlooked, or dropped as soon as their lives were overtaken by the chaos in the city. Somehow, you’d managed to maintain a semblance of a normal life even while being surrounded by shootings and drug runs.

He stayed still, hovering over your apartment like a cloud of death, his gaze never breaking to stray to anything else but you. He watched you make dinner, he watched you tidy up, he watched you get ready for bed. All of it was as fascinating to him as everything he’d seen when he researched your background.

All the little habits you did. The way you fiddled with the timer on the stove while you waited for the food, the way you danced to your music while you did dishes, the way you preferred an endless heap of pillows on your bed. Every little quirk he watched served to drill your presence deeper into his being. You were exactly what he needed.

So pure.

Innocent enough to leave your bedroom window open in the middle of a crime surge in the only city worse than Gotham.

It gave Jason the perfect opportunity to watch you sleep, and the perfect opportunity to survey your apartment for places to set up cameras. He’d need to make sure that he had every inch of the place covered so he could watch you at all times. The last thing Jason wanted was for some criminal or other creep to breathe the same air as you.

Oh, how cute.

He looked on as you settled into bed, reaching over to your nightstand to pat the head of a tiny giraffe plushy, as if it would stand guard and protect you from all the dangers in the world. You didn’t need a stupid plushie. You had him now.

But what if you needed him and he wasn’t there? What if you left your window open every night and someone with worse intentions was there to take advantage of it? He needed to be there to protect you, to keep away all the dangers and make sure you lived like a princess. It could happen tonight if Jason wasn’t careful. He couldn’t have that.

Wind blew the curtains in your window aside, as if the world was parting the barriers that lay between you. He was just going to make sure that nobody who was less well meaning than him would take a chance to hurt you.

With the speed of years and years of training, Jason hopped from rooftop to rooftop, as quiet as a panther stalking its prey. But Jason wasn’t stalking you. No, he was helping you, making sure you were safe.

Landing on your fire escape balcony without a sound, Jason stood motionless as he peered into your bedroom, his eyes locked on your sleeping form.

You were like an angel in his eyes. Something clean and untouched. Something that he could have all to himself now that he’d found you. Jason wasn’t worried about tainting you with his red-stained hands, no, you were saving him. You had saved him.

He took the time to study your bedroom, burning each item of decor into his mind. There were so many perfect spots to put cameras, and of course, he’d brought some with him just in case. They were small, tech he had ‘borrowed’ from Bruce’s generous stockpile in the safe house he was staying at.

He could have them placed and synced back up with his computer in less than five minutes. It would be so easy he wouldn’t even wake you.

And Jason didn’t want to wake you. It wasn’t just the fact that he felt you looked so peaceful sleeping, something he would hate to disturb, it was that he wasn’t ready.

If you knew who he was, how could he guarantee your safety? Not to mention the fact that you might even try to run from him.

Like hell.

So, Jason found himself pushing the window you’d cracked open further, till he could just slip inside. Landing on the balls of his feet as he’d been trained to do a hundred times before, his presence was barely audible.

Just being in the same room as you felt like he was drunk and more alert than ever all at once. In the back of his mind, a sour voice told him to stop, to let this be the farthest he went and leave before things got out of hand. God forbid Bruce found out. But he pushed those thoughts away as quickly as they came.

Taking his time, he walked slowly around your bedroom, his eyes soaking in everything that was just you. It was impossible to resist purusing your things as he came to your dresser. Trailing his fingers across all the little decorations you had, he closed his eyes, imagining he was touching your skin instead.

He couldn’t resist opening the drawers, and nearly sank to his knees when he saw that the first one he opened was full of your panties and bras. His mask suddenly felt constricting, and he immediately noticed his breaths pick up.

“Jesus Christ.” He huffed out in a sharp breath, his heartbeat pounding in his ears.

Looking back over at you sleeping in the bed, it was like he had the devil on both shoulders. Without thinking long enough to regret it, he reached for the prettiest pair, pocketing it so quickly it may as well had never been there.

Jason let out a heavy sigh, but continued placing cameras in places nobody but him would think to check. He’d have to come back later to do the rest of the apartment.

After just watching you sleep for what felt like far too little time, Jason finally willed himself to turn and leave. Every fibre of his being was screaming in protest. The thought of getting to be this close to you, only to have it ripped away, was almost too much to bear. Still, he made his way back to your window. That’s when he heard it.

The sound of rustling sheets filled Jason’s expertly trained ears and his gaze snapped to the noise instantly as he froze in place, halfway out your window.

Dear god.

Where you had been snuggled cutely in your blankets, you had kicked them off to leave your lower half exposed.

Your gorgeous legs lay splayed across your bed, long and elegant. All of his senses were dialled in on the singular sight of you. His cock thrummed with heat almost instantly, his pants stretched out by his girth as his gazed strayed further.

You were wearing a pair of flimsy sleep shorts and a shirt that was far too big for you and he’d be damned if he said it wasn’t the sexiest thing he’d ever seen.

With an amount of restraint he didn’t think he possessed, Jason bit his tongue, practically salivating at the sight of you. He rested his head against the window frame, halfway out of your apartment, halfway towards making a very bad decision.

He should leave. He should leave and never come back and leave you alone and stop. But he couldn’t.

Fuck it.

Refusing to spend any more time not having you, Jason pulled himself back through your window, prowling towards your bed.

He just stood there for a while like he had already, staring at the delicious curve of your ass and feeling his cock harden in his pants. If he was already going to hell for this then he would take his time savouring his sins.

But he could only hold himself back for so long.

With a quiet groan, Jason crept nearer to your side, pulling away the rest of the blankets as carefully as he could. It wasn’t that important for him to see all of you just yet. Not only was his mind only focused on one thing, but he knew he had all the time in the world to study every part of you. You were his after all.

Now that your lower half was exposed to the cool spring air, there was only one barrier keeping Jason from taking what was holding his entire soul. He prayed you were a heavy sleeper, and lowered himself to his stomach on the bed. Propped up on his elbows, there were only a few inches separating him from the only thing he wanted.

Thank god for sleep shorts.

In the back of his mind, he was already adding buying you something less revealing to his list of things to do, not wanting anyone to see you but him. But that could wait.

Taking off his mask and placing it on the floor beside your bed, he bit his tongue and gently hooked his fingers underneath your sleep shorts, pulling them to the side. All at once the breath left his lungs and he felt like his world was being tipped upside down. You didn’t wear any panties to bed.

Jason had to close his eyes for a moment in order to control his urge to wake you up and ravish you. When he opened them again, they flickered green and he zeroed in on what was making his mouth water.

Your pretty little pussy.

It was a miracle he’d gotten this far to be honest, but you didn’t seem to stir for anything. Thanking whatever force was allowing him this one pleasure, he moved closer to you and began taking what he wanted so desperately.

The moment his mouth met your pussy he nearly came in his pants.

Stopping for a second, he waited for any sign you were awake, his heart pounding in his ears. But you were still silent. Jason took this as his go ahead, but he had no intentions of stopping anyway.

He peppered kisses along your pussy, drunk on the softness of your skin and the taste of you on his lips. Everything in him was bursting with thrill, and he could barely stop himself from rutting against your bed to get some much needed friction. He wasn’t in his mind anymore, the only thing keeping him tethered to the planet was your sweet little cunt.

You began to breathe a little heavier in your sleep, your soft breathing quickly getting deeper. But Jason didn’t stop.

He couldn’t.

Not when you tasted so divine, not when your skin felt like heaven on his tounge. He moved to your clit now, his whole face practically pressed into your pussy. If he was gonna go out between your legs, it was a death he would gladly take.

He sucked on your clit, alternating between swirling his tounge around it in tight little circles and sloppily eating you out. It was getting harder and harder for Jason to control the level of noise he was making. His groans and low, rumbling growls began to fill the room. It was just you. Only you in his mind, his heart, and his soul.

Oh, fuck.

You were making these cute little noises now. Little breathy whimpers and whines were leaving your lips. With each sound that reached his ears, he felt a bit more of his control slipping.

He hadn’t even noticed he was fucking you with two fingers until you began to squirm. All at once he halted all his movement, waiting for his fun to end, but your eyes never opened. This would all just be a really good dream for you. He almost chuckled at the idea.

Certain you’d stay asleep, he buried his face in your pussy, eating you like a man starved. His fingers pumped in and out of your now slick cunt, and his eyes rolled to the back of his head as he tasted your sweetness on his tongue.

But it wasn’t enough. He needed more.

He needed to make you cum. He needed to be the one, the only one, bringing you pleasure. He wanted to feel your cum running down his face. He wanted to taste you on his tongue three days from now.

There was no point trying to contain himself anymore. He’d already jumped off the edge a long time ago. Jason pumped a third finger into you, allowing himself to grind his raging cock against your bed. The noises you were making were getting louder, and you were beginning to writhe in your sheets every time he slammed his fingers into you. He knew he’d have to be quick, but honestly, he didn’t know how much more he could take.

Taking your clit in between his teeth, he grazed the sensitive skin just enough to have you even wetter for him. Jason was desperate. All his cares, all his worries had been replace by an unending, carnal urge for you.

Only you.

He pumped his fingers faster, driving them in and out while he ate you like a man possessed. Then, he got to experience what was easily the best thing that ever happened to him.

Without warning, your needy whimpers turned into one long, high pitched whine, and your sweetness burst into Jason’s mouth. He felt like he died all over again, cumming in his pants as he groaned into your pussy, shuddering. Never once did his fingers stop, only slowing to allow himself to lap up all of your juices.

The world was quiet for a moment as he stayed hooked on your cunt, his eyes closed in bliss.

But he couldn’t stay forever.

With an insane amount of difficulty, Jason placed one more kiss on your clit, and pulled your shorts back in place. His own underwear would be ruined, and he would definitely have to wash his pants, but he couldn't have given less of a shit.

Once he was sure you’d stay asleep, he moved off the bed, coming to stand beside your now flushed face. Jason didn’t know what was worse, having to leave after tasting the best thing ever, or the fact that you’d only remember this as a dream.

Not wanting to think about anything but how full his heart felt, he leaned down and pressed a feather light kiss to your cheek.

“Sweet dreams, baby. You’re mine.” He whispered softly, as if you could hear him, and brushed a lock of your hair behind your ear.

Taking one last glance at your pretty face, he turned and crept his way out of your apartment, leaving the way he came, through the window.

He made sure to close it.

It was clear to Jason that he should be feeling shame, remorse or disgust with himself for what he just did, but the only thing on his mind was how he wanted you awake for next time. And there would be a next time.

When you awoke that morning, and the haze of sleep cleared from your mind, your focus instantly went to the wetness between your thighs. You blushed as vague memories of a rather nice dream sprung to the forefront of your thoughts.

Shaking your head, you crawled out of bed, yawning, when your eyes caught on a slightly confusing sight.

“Didn’t I leave that open?”

[qatarsprint2023]

Hi can I request a lando x f!reader when she’s really sick and how lando takes care of her, like A. fluffy and comforting fic. I just found ur acc and I’m so excited for ur upcoming writings!!!!

~🎀

Thank you sm! Hope you enjoy this one, 🎀<3

Sick days and Race weekends— LN4

Lando discovers that his girlfriend got sick while he was away for a race and didn't want to worry him. — Lando Norris x f!reader, fluff, comfort, reader has a bad case of the flu, no use of y/n word count: ca. 1.2k

Ever since you were a kid you'd never been the type of person to get actually sick. Sure, a little cough and runny nose maybe, but nothing ever really drastic. Personally, you were pretty sure your immune system was simply a wonderful combination of good genes and growing up in the countryside.

Your parents had always told you that the fresh air and spending a lot of time outdoors with some exposure to animals had probably played some part in your never being sick as well and developed your immune system in a way people who grew up in urban areas would never have.

But when you moved to London for uni a little later in life, a huge city with tons of traffic, pollution and surprisingly little greenery, you found yourself getting sick more often than when you lived on your parent's farm surrounded by green grass, fields that stretched for miles and lots of animals. However this time you got sick. Runny nose, aching joints, pounding headache, hacking cough, fever that came and went as it pleased... The whole flu package, really.

You'd already started feeling a little off before Lando left for Austin on Wednesday and it had gradually gotten a little worse each day, but by Friday it all just hit like a wrecking ball. But you being you, decided not to say anything much about it and tell your boyfriend it was just a common cold you were dealing with back home.

He'd done so well in Qualifying on Friday and he should really be concentrating on his upcoming race and not his girlfriend's inane complaints from halfway across the globe. You didn't like worrying people. It didn't feel right plaguing someone else with your problems when surely you could somehow find a way to work it out yourself anyway.

But now it was Monday morning and you had curled up on the couch under the heaviest blanket you could find with a half empty tissue box and a giant mug of tea on the coffee table beside you a few hours ago already. You were cold and shivering like leaves in the wind on an icey autumn day like today, even with your hot drink and the warm blanket thrown across your body.

You couldn't have been more miserable. You felt like you were dying. You couldn't go to work, or leave the house because you simply felt awful and weak. So, you decided to just lay down on the couch and wait for Lando to get home.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity of waiting for the familiar sound of a key turning in the lock, you perked up a little at the sound coming from the door across the room. Lando stepped inside and shut the door behind him with a soft sigh slipping past his lips, not noticing you.

"Hey... P2!" you croaked weakly and forced a small smile onto your lips when you saw your boyfriend step into your shared flat, suitcase in hand, his coat and shoes still on as well after he just made his way through Heathrow airport and probably (definitely) went through a mini heart attack too when his luggage didn't immediately come out with everything else from the flight, like he always does when you're flying somewhere.

He hesitated for a moment, wondering if he'd actually heard you call out to him. It was the last thing he expected to hear. Reasonable response, you had to concur— after all, you were supposed to be at work. Then he turned to face the couch and saw you laying there, basically drowning under the heavy fabric of your blanket.

"Hey, hey... What's wrong? Why aren't you at work?" he asked in a voice that showed obvious signs of worry as he quickly kicked his shoes off and went over to you, feeling your forehead with his cold palm. "Jesus. You're basically on fire, baby... I thought you just had a normal cough?!"

"Didn't wanna worry you," you chuckled with an innocent smile, but before you knew it, your chuckle turned into yet another harsh cough. According to your mum, you sounded like an elephant with tuberculosis, like she told you over the phone yesterday. Harsh but true comparison, you had to admit.

Lando groaned and shook his head in an exaggerated way. "Yeah but, you should worry me when you get a fever like this!" However his expression softened to one of sympathy as he sat down beside you on the edge of the beige couch, gently stroking your forehead in an attempt to make you feel more at ease.

"Why didn't you tell me you felt this bad when we talked yesterday?" he frowned, some of his soft curls falling onto his forehead.

"You just got P2 and you sounded so happy about that on the phone, so I didn't wanna dampen the mood," you respond with a shrug.

"The only thing you've got me feeling right now is worried, baby. Come on, you can hardly talk without having a coughing fit," he sighed, putting his arm around you and planting a kiss on the crown of your head. "Have you had anything to eat?"

"Not yet," you sniffled softly and shook your head, rubbing the bridge of your nose with your index finger and thumb. It felt like there was someone playing a damn drum solo against the inside of your skull. "Didn't have the energy to make myself anything more than tea. I feel like death..."

"I know, baby, I know..." Lando sighed softly and gently stroked your cheek with his thumb as he stood up and placed his hands on his hips, looking down at you. "I'll make you some toast, okay? But first let's get you to bed... The couch isn't comfortable enough for when my girl needs to rest. It'll give you a stiff neck, sweetheart."

Lando gently looped his arm around your waist and helped you get up from the couch, a soft groan escaping your throat. He held you upright as you slowly walked over to the bedroom where your boyfriend lied you down in bed and pulled the covers over your shivering body, enveloping you in a warm sea of soft bedsheets.

"Alright..." he said with a sympathetic gaze in his hazel eyes and fluffed up your pillow a little, so you could lay down more comfortably. "I'll make you something and I'll bring you your tea in a minute too. Oh and some of that cough syrup we have as well. I know you don't like it, but I don't like it when you sound like you're gonna cough up your lungs any second. Do you want me to make you some soup later too?"

"You can make soup?" you retorted raspily and covered your mouth as another cough slipped past your chapped lips.

"Well... no... But I can make soup from the can?" Lando suggested with a sheepish grin, which caused you to smile a bit as well. It was so nice to have someone who just wanted to help and make you feel better.

"That'd be nice, thank you..." you replied softly and smiled, though you quickly covered your mouth as he leaned down to kiss you. "No! I'll get you sick too!"

"Well, I sure as hell won't let you sleep alone tonight, so whether I kiss you now or have my arm around you for seven hours tonight doesn't really make a big difference, does it?" he chuckled and gently took your hand away from your face to press a chaste kiss against your pale lips.

"Stay with me afterwards?" you hummed softly, not yet pulling away from the tender sensation of his lips on yours and your hand in his.

"I'll stay as long as you want me to," said Lando in response and gently gave your hip a pat. "But first I'll get you something to eat and your tea from the living room, yeah?"

[honeekyuu]

love affair. [tsukishima kei x f!reader] chapter one.

>>The unsavory reputation that Tsukishima Kei has built for himself as the Sendai Frogs' rudest rookie puts his upcoming contract renewal at risk

or

Tsukki really needs a girlfriend, and you really need everyone to stop calling you his pathetic, pining best friend<<

series status: [complete]

masterlist. || next.

a/n: i have a lot of feelings about these two. welcome to those feelings.

[feel free to buy me a cup of coffee!]

---------------------------------------

Sendai Frogs Middle Blocker Tsukishima Kei Caught in Heated Argument with Fan

Sendai’s Tsukishima Kei Breaks Paparazzi Camera

Sendai Frogs Player Threatens Reporter Outside Home

You sigh, scrolling down the list of news articles that had populated when you’d entered his name into the search bar. 

“This fucking guy.”

The top links are all reports of his most recent altercation, his newest scandal, the next thing he’s done wrong. Only a few talk about his performance during a game – luckily, he’s beyond talented and had drawn in a substantial amount of the Frogs’ fanbase, so his… poorer points have been overlooked by their management.

Until now.

You sigh again, remembering the text you’d woken up to this morning.

[5:07 AM]

Tsukki: im fucked

Tsukki: management called me in for a morning meeting

Tsukki: come over tn?

You’d groaned, instantly exasperated. You texted back that you would expect him to have dinner ordered by the time you arrived and left it at that, going about your day with a feeling that this had been the last straw for him.

Because Tsukishima Kei had always been trouble.

The boy you’d known in elementary school had been sweet and playful, but he’d had a mischievous streak. It had paired well with your general tendency toward chaos, and your friendship had been built on shared scoldings from teachers and parents.

The boy from middle school – the one who’d learned about betrayal – had been snarky and bitter, tongue sharp and words crafted to draw blood. Stones pelted at those who’d ever spoken ill of you – you, growing into wider-set hips and chubbier thighs than the other girls. You, who’d always hid your insecurities behind Tsukki, your wild smile and silly demeanor keeping others from seeing how painful stones could truly be. 

He’d been almost imperceptibly softer with you – just a bit gentler, lacking the same heat that had scared others off – but he’d still cut you a handful of times. Retorts thrown too quickly in times of high stress, sarcastic comments snapped at your heels a little too thoughtlessly. But you’d always been tough — turned by the cruelty of a few mean boys and girls into something just sharp enough to handle his temper — and he’d learned that he should take care not to cross any real lines with you.

He’d still managed to cross a few in high school, and you’d taught him that you hadn’t been joking. He’d had to learn that the words ‘ I’m sorry ’ were hard to say, but that having you ignore him was harder. 

And one day, those words had stopped working, too. Because a friend shouldn’t lash out enough to need them as often as he always had.

Tsukishima Kei had learned – in the middle of your third year at Karasuno, when a fight had gotten to a point worse than things had ever been between you – what it might mean to lose you. You’d walked away from him that day, and you’d gone weeks without speaking to him. He’d finally shown up at your door after a home game, drenched in the torrential downpour that had started so suddenly that you’re still convinced the universe had put you in a dramatic movie moment on purpose.

But he’d stood there anyway, waiting you out until you’d be willing to talk. Because you’d never once missed a game of his, and because – even if he’d been trying everything to get your attention since your fight – it was starting to feel like this was the nail in the coffin of your friendship. And he simply couldn’t have that. You could yell at him – bicker and snap and fight – but your silence was unacceptable.

He’d stood there at your door, blond hair plastered to his forehead and rain-covered glasses hiding his eyes completely, as you’d beaten his walls down to nothing. Screaming, you’d gone on and on about his lack of consideration and care for you – about every moment that had felt like a punch to the gut when nothing of the sort should be allowed in a friendship – until you’d run out of breath. Until all you could do was stand there on your doorstep and sob, the storm drowning you out to everyone but him.

He hadn’t said a single word, only stepping up to you once you’d stopped and wiping your snot-covered face with the front of his drenched volleyball shirt.

“ Okay, ” He’d finally mumbled, voice thick with regret as you’d cried into his chest. “ I’m sorry. It won’t happen again. ”

You two hadn’t had a single problem since. Things had gone back to normal, with Tsukki toeing the line but, without fail, never crossing it.

You’d been secretly glad he hadn’t changed all that much. He was still the same. He was still Tsukki.

The rest of high school had passed by in a series of rolled eyes and exasperated comments. College had started just the same, with new friends made and roommates come and gone, but Tsukishima Kei right where he’s always been. People here were less rude, less judgmental of your size and the unapologetic demeanor that had been built because of it. You’d made friends here, although never ones that could compare to the Karasuno Volleyball boys, who still float in your social orbit even now. Shimizu Kiyoko floats closer still, one of your dearest friends to this day.

And, still , already three years into college, Tsukki’s what he’s always been. 

Brutally honest and annoyingly coarse.

Sarcastic at best and a cloud of misery at worst.

Immovably loyal and at your side without question.

He’s the same as always, if not a bit more mature with age. Your relationship’s developed into one of constant exasperation, witnessing his every moment of idiocy into adulthood. He’s a nightmare to have a serious conversation with, but you’ve learned that he always listens, even when he wants to do anything but that. Your arguments are frequent, but never serious.

Any hint of a real fight is always squashed promptly under his feet, his hands calming on your shoulders and his tone losing its edge the moment he’d spot the telltale signs of your anger – he’d always give in first, even with a personality as stubborn as his. The balance between his commonplace sarcasm and something more serious is a delicate one, but he’d managed to find it with you. 

The issue, however, is that you are the exception.

Tsukishima had been recruited by the Sendai Frogs in your third year, playing successfully and renewing the year-long contract for the following school year – the unspoken agreement being a full-time professional contract with them after graduation. He’d been sheltered, in a way, last year, because it had been a soft launch – a trial run to see how he’d do, how the Frogs fans would take to him.

As it turns out, the road to going pro comes with as many problems as it does benefits.

Upon signing the contract for this year, the Frogs management had officially introduced their It Boy to the world. 

Tsukishima Kei – 21 years old, Middle Blocker. 

He’d been thrown into an unending schedule at the beginning of the year – any time outside of practice and games is taken by interviews, sponsorships, media promotion. His face and name had been plastered over billboards and brand collabs, the Sendai Frogs’ Middle Blocker a player slated to bring the volleyball world to its knees.

But the most important, truly – the thing that had started all his problems – is the invasion of privacy.

He’d managed to make it to the start of summer vacation while juggling the newfound fame, but – with the halfway point of his temporary contract approaching quickly – the Frogs fans had recently become rabid. People clambering over each other in classes to get a better look at him, baristas writing their number on his coffee cups at cafes (and then posting his coffee order online, of course), and his face posted all over the internet. Every miniscule move he makes is posted to Twitter – his class schedules, his mealtimes, his practice hours. Paparazzi at his apartment, at his car, at his classes.

He’s everywhere, and that’s too much, even for him.

He and Yamaguchi had had to move to a gated, private townhouse together, unable to stay in their dingy off-campus apartment anymore – too many people had tried the locks and camped out in front for a single glimpse of the up and coming star athlete. 

You hadn’t escaped the public eye unscathed, either. You’d seen enough comments about yourself online – what your relationship with Tsukishima Kei might be, and why it always seemed just non-platonic enough to be questionable but completely unable to be pinned down. What you may or may not be gaining from hanging around this rising heartthrob, and – notably – how you could possibly think he’d be interested in you, given your… physical attributes.

You’d learned to be good at ignoring those comments, but it hadn’t come without damage. Damage that had taken the form of quiet arguments with Tsukki about not wanting to go out into the world with him, irritated demands that you not let the irrelevant comments of a few internet trolls affect your friendship. More than a few instances of Tadashi and Kiyoko showing up to your door with takeout and some reassurances, Tsukki’s barrage of whiny texts set aside for a night.

It had gotten easier over the summer, your ability to ignore the public’s opinion not necessarily stronger, but your ability to hide the effects of it certainly solidified. You manage to shake off the minor stress that comes with leaving your little studio apartment every morning, and you’re happy with the balance of your private and public life by Tsukishima Kei’s side.

What you’re not happy with – very crucially – is his inability to keep his name out of the tabloids for picking fights with paparazzi.

– 

By the time you make it to his townhouse, it’s well past 5pm and you’re nearly dead on your feet from the full day of work and classes. School’s just picked up again, and your professors seem to not know the meaning of ‘syllabus week’. 

Tadashi answers the door, glancing over your shoulder at the poorly hidden paparazzi across the street before gesturing you into the house.

“He’s not here.”

You blink, taken aback. “What?” Where the hell-

“I am now.” 

You turn, finding Tsukki just behind you in the doorway, a bag of takeout in hand and his gym bag slung over his shoulder. He shuts the door and kicks off his shoes, eyeing the narrow glare you’re giving him.

“Got something to say?”

Your tone is sharp. “Did you really break a reporter’s camera last night?”

He nods, not even a little bit ashamed. “He was sitting on my car after practice, waiting for me. And then he wouldn’t get off of it.”

You sigh while Yamaguchi nods understandingly. 

“Yeah, alright, that’s annoying…”

“ Annoying isn’t enough to justify my reaction, apparently.” He shakes his head, following the two of you into the kitchen. He leaves the bag on the island for you to unpack and disappears down the hall toward his bedroom to change. You withdraw containers of curry and set about serving three plates of it, navigating their kitchen without issue.

Tadashi mumbles quietly beside you. “How fucked is he?”

You shake your head, sighing again. “Infinitely fucked, I’d say.”

“You saw the look in his eye?” He cuts a questioning glance at you, his concern apparent. You just nod, pouring out drinks for the group.

“He’s not telling us something.”

“ He’s right here.”

You both look up, finding Tsukki in the doorway with a pinched scowl and high, tensed shoulders. He lifts a brow at you.

“I’m fine. ”

You and Tadashi make brief eye contact before snorting in unison and pushing past him to the living room with the food. You take a corner of the couch, and Yamaguchi occupies the armchair beside you.

“So, what’d they say?” You ask. 

“Off the team yet?” He follows up with a joking smile.

No one acknowledges the underlying nerves you’re both displaying when you look Tsukki over. As much as he needs to get his attitude in check, neither of you can fathom a world in which the Frogs had let him go.

Tsukki flops down on the other end of the couch and breathes out a quiet sigh, slumping back into the cushions. “Management is unhappy with the reputation I’ve created for myself.”

You nod, taking a bite. You’d expected that.

“Okay…?” You draw your knees up under yourself, watching him stare up at the ceiling.

“They have asked-” He lifts his brows, considering something. “-well, more like threatened – that I make a major change to my lifestyle in order to fix the growing impression of me before it becomes ‘solidified’,” He quotes with his fingers, smiling mirthlessly. “Or my full-time contract’s on the line. They want me to find something to make me seem more…” He trails off, staring off to the side now, in your general direction.

“Pleasant. Approachable. Relatable. Soft.” He shrugs. “That kind of thing.”

Months of watching Tsukki adjust to the celebrity lifestyle makes translating this a breeze. 

“They want you to get a girlfriend,” Yamaguchi concludes, spooning curry into his mouth.

He laughs bitterly. “And they want it fast.”

You take another bite, shrugging when he looks over at you. “Better get to downloading dating apps, then.”

He rolls his eyes. “You’re enjoying this.” He tugs his phone out of his pocket, anyway, glancing briefly at his roommate. “You’re both enjoying this.”

“Well, you didn’t get kicked off the team, so-” Yamaguchi relaxes, kicking his feet up on the coffee table.

“Mm-hm-” You agree. “You did this to yourself.” And then you scoot in, watching him download a few apps. “Cast your phone to the TV so we can watch.”

“You’re funny- hey- ” 

You snatch his phone away, connecting his phone to the TV and projecting his open Tinder screen. You slap his hands when he reaches for you, setting his profile up for him in a matter of minutes. He snorts.

“Experienced in online dating?”

“Gotta do something to pass the time in between classes.” 

You only realize how it sounds when they both eye you in amused surprise. Tsukki sits up to look at you properly, scandalized and face split in a wide grin. “Gotta do what in between classes, exactly?” 

“Wait-”

Tadashi giggles into his hands, sinking low in the armchair, and Tsukki shakes his head, tutting in disappointment at you.

“That’s a crazy thing to admit out loud, Y/n-”

“Shut up ,” You shove him, tossing his phone back and then pointing at the TV. “Start swiping.”

He relaxes back into the couch with a laugh, and the three of you eat your dinner with the entertainment of the night.

–

“Pass.”

“Aw, she’s cute.”

“Exactly. Girls who are cute usually can’t handle me.”

“...Was that a reference to his personality or to sex?” You ask, eyeing Tadashi fearfully.

He shakes his head beside you. “Better not to ask, I fear.”

Tsukki’s suspicious grin is enough for your lip to curl in disgust.

“Ew.”

“I’m just being honest,” He shrugs, unapologetic.

You lay a hand on his shoulder, speaking down to him like he’s a child. “Well, if you don’t start swiping right on cute girls, your contract’s going up in flames, sweetheart.”

“ Ugh -” Tsukki groans loudly, throwing his phone down on the couch. “This isn’t working. None of these girls are the right fit.”

“Then maybe your standards shouldn’t be literally impossible to meet!” Yamaguchi throws his hands up in exasperation. “We’ve been at this a whole hour, and you’ve only swiped right on one girl.”

“Yeah, but she had nice tits,” He admits plainly.

You and Yamaguchi stare, deadpan. “You’re terrible,” You say eventually.

“Yeah,” Tsukki sighs. “I know.” He takes a breath, and then he’s turning to you with wide eyes. “Oh, hey! You have nice tits, too – you be my girlfriend.”

Yamaguchi promptly chokes on his drink, and you reach to yank the pillow out from under Tsukki’s head.

“Stop-” You smack him in the face with it repeatedly. “-Being. Gross.”

“It was a compliment!” He laughs, blocking his head and then catching the pillow with ease. You enter into an unwilling match of tug-of-war. “And I already know our personalities work together, so I don’t have to go through the pain of a talking stage!”

You eye him with suspicion, pulling the pillow toward you. “You’re not actually considering this.” You look back at Yamaguchi. “He’s not actually considering this, right?”

Your friend just stares, shocked.

Tsukki pulls hard on the pillow, catching you off guard and launching you toward him. “Oh, I most certainly am.”

“Tsukishima Kei-” You tug, hard. He resists. “Get that thought out of your head right now.”

“Come on-” He argues. “We are clearly a match made in Heaven.”

“In Hell, you mean!” You laugh. “There’s no way!” You look at Yamaguchi in panic. “Help me!”

The man just shrugs uselessly. “This conversation wasn’t on my bingo card for the year. I’m stumped.”

Tsukki rolls his eyes. “Come on, Y/n. It’s not like you’ve got guys lined up outside your door-”

“How would you know?” You snap, a little offended. “I could be going on dates every night-”

“When would you have time for that? You’re with me most nights.” He leans in, a wicked gleam in his eye. “Even more evidence that we should just date.”

“Get away from me-” You push him back with your foot, putting distance between you. He just grabs your ankle and pulls you toward him, and you scream as you’re dragged down the length of the couch. 

Tsukki starts to clamber over you, but that finally sets Yamaguchi in motion, the boy standing quickly and yanking Tsukki by his hair back to the other side of the couch.

“Play nice, you freak,” He says, smacking the blond hard on the forehead. Tsukki just laughs, one of those rare laughs that makes you forget why you were ever mad in the first place.

“Okay, okay!” He yells, struggling to be freed from Yamaguchi’s torture.

You crawl back to your corner, kicking him for good measure while you go. “You’re fucking crazy.”

“Come on, Y/n,” Tsukki argues, still smiling wide. “This is literally a win-win.” He fixes himself, keeping an eye on Yamaguchi while he talks, because the freckled boy is grabbing a magazine off the coffee table and rolling it up. “We’re good together.”

“This is only a win-win for you,” You fight, listing things off and ticking them on your fingers as you go. “You’re annoying, arrogant, have poor impulse control and a short temper, and– importantly – we don’t even like each other!” You throw your hands out as best you can, emphasizing it. “Why would we date when we’re not attracted to each other?”

He doesn’t answer, only flicking his gaze down the length of your body appreciatively before meeting your eyes again. He sees that you’ve seen it, your gaze wary, and he grins wickedly.

“Who’s ‘we’?” 

That earns him a rolled magazine to the head.

“I’m just saying,” He laughs. “Just think of how much Management would like it if I found a girlfriend right away, and one that they know is good for me-”

“Alright-” You plant your feet on the floor with an irritated sigh, suddenly tired of this conversation. “-don’t bring them into this to guilt-trip me.” You stand, clearly making to leave.

Tsukki’s smile drops, and he stands quickly, his jokes forgotten. “What? Wait-” His eyes are wide, betraying genuine surprise. You frown, and his eyes track it. He gauges your annoyance, seeing that it’s starting to tip into something more.

“Okay,” He breathes, suddenly quite serious. He holds his hands out toward you carefully, grabbing your shoulders and pulling you back to the couch with him. Yamaguchi perches on the arm of the couch, observing quietly.

“That’s not what I meant,” Tsukki tries. “I actually kinda do think we’d be good together.” When you don’t seem to believe it, he tries again. “And I’m not trying to guilt-trip you. I do think Management genuinely knows that you’re good for me-”

You know that, too. You know that Management has always liked you. That’s why this idea scares you just a little bit.

Because it’s feasible.

“No one’s going to believe that we’re together if we clearly-” You swallow hard and gesture between you. “-don’t have that kind of kind of chemistry, Tsukki.”

He shrugs. “It’s not that hard to act. We have the friendship chemistry, so we’re not uncomfortable. We would just need to add-”

“Holding hands? Kissing? Entirely different body language? Clear physical attraction?” You argue, lifting your brows.

He nods like it’s the easiest thing in the world. “Yeah. That’s not that bad.”

You level him with a meaningful look. “Tsukishima.” You smile bitterly when he blinks at the use of his full name. “ Look at me.”

Tadashi makes a noise of protest over Tsukki’s shoulder, clearly disapproving of where you’re going with this, but the blond just stares.

“I am looking at you.”

You laugh, shaking your head and standing again. “Good luck with Tinder, Tsukki, but I’m outta here-”

There’s a 6’3” wall in your way when you try to leave.

“You really need to get over that shit.”

You whip your head up to look into Tsukki’s eyes, affronted.

“ Excuse me?”

He’s unyielding, golden eyes hard on yours. “I’m not taking that as a valid reason. Come up with something else if you really don’t want to do this.”

“Tsukki-”

“Give me a better reason, Y/n.”

“It makes no sense, Tsukishima!” You scoff, all but laughing in his face. “Not a single person is going to believe that we’re together. We’re going to look stupid together-”

“I don’t think we look stupid together,” He cuts you short, turning to Yamaguchi. “Do you think we look stupid together?”

Tadashi flicks his gaze back and forth from Tsukki’s to yours, clearly torn. When he sighs and it becomes clear he’s about to take Tsukki’s side, you gape at him.

“Yamaguchi!”

He gives you a regretful look. “It’s not unreasonable , Y/n. People already wonder what you two are, anyway.” He rolls his eyes when you stare at him in disbelief, lifting his hands helplessly. “We all know you balance him out. Think of the good you could do, whipping this idiot into shape.”

Tsukki turns to you with a victorious smile, eyebrows lifted. “Consider me whipped.”

You groan, snatching your bag off the floor and pushing past them. “Goodbye.”

Tsukki’s slipping his shoes on at the door with you, only snatching his keys from the bowl when you shoot him a questioning glare.

“It’s getting late,” is all he says as he props the door open for you.

You’re about to remind him that 7pm in the summer is not that late, but the flash of a camera catches your attention. You turn, shielding your eyes from the paparazzi snapping pictures at the end of the driveway.

“Don’t you have a family to spend time with or something?” Tsukki says over your head, his voice tense.

You elbow him hard. “You really gotta stop giving them what they want,” You grumble, stomping down the front steps. The blink of Tsukki’s headlights and the gentle purr of his car remote-starting is the only response he gives you, and you trudge over to the passenger-side door. You wave tiredly at the cameraman standing just past the gate and give him a smile.

“I’d love to say he’s above hitting you with his car, but he’s having a bad day.”

The man chuckles at your joke. “I suppose I shouldn’t take any chances, then.” He takes a few more photos, but he steps out of the way regardless.

Tsukki stares at you when you settle in next to him with a sigh.

“How do you do that? I had to break a guy’s camera to get his ass off the hood of my car.”

You shrug, closing your eyes and leaning against the headrest. “It’s not groundbreaking work, Tsukki. Try being nice once in a while.”

He drives you home in silence.

You keep your eyes on the sideview mirror, watching the unmarked van that’s trailing the car the whole way there.

What would be the difference, really, if you pretend to date Tsukishima Kei? You already get followed home and to classes. You already hear all the whispers when you walk anywhere with him. You’re already all over the internet, comments about your body plastered everywhere for the world to see.

It doesn’t really matter that you’re not interested in Tsukki, does it? It’d be laughable for anyone to question that you could fall for him – he’s tall and objectively gorgeous. Everyone wants him.

The issue is you.

You’ve seen the girls he goes home with at parties.

Your eyes shift from the unmarked van to your own reflection, and you chuckle under your breath.

Yes, you’re good for Tsukishima Kei – you manage his unacceptably short temper. You support him unconditionally and keep him in check. You always have. You’re everything Management needs from him.

But the issue is still you.

“Would you cut it out?”

You blink, turning to look at Tsukki’s side profile while he drives. He’s got one hand on the steering wheel, the other tapping an irritated rhythm on the middle console. He shifts his eyes briefly in your direction before lifting them to watch the van behind you, his jaw clenching and unclenching.

“What?” You say, the silence in the car a bit suffocating.

“I’m asking you to cut it the fuck out. Whatever’s going on in your head – cut it out.”

You lift a brow. “And what would that be?”

“I don’t know, Y/n – whatever insane shit you think about yourself.” He shakes his head, pulling into the parking lot of your apartment complex. Thankfully, it’s a big one with hundreds of units, and the paparazzi have always had the sense not to follow you in.

He pulls up to the main door, putting the car in park and leaning back in his seat with a tight sigh. You both watch the van pull up in front of you, the man on the passenger’s side hopping out and snapping photos of the two of you staring back at him.

“Look,” He says quietly, in a way that reeks of an oncoming argument. You can see him gripping the middle console like he’s stopping himself from getting out of the car. “I know what people say about you. The comments they make about your body and your looks and everything else.”

You stare out the window, nodding. It’s amazing how desensitized you’ve become to the barrage of flashing lights that comes with Tsukishima Kei. “I’ve been hearing it since we were kids-”

“Yeah, exactly. Since we were kids , Y/n. Are you gonna let this be an issue for the rest of our lives?”

You look at him, your skin flushing with anger. “What are you trying to say? It’s not like you have the same problems I do.”

He meets your eyes, gaze burning. “I’m telling you to get the fuck over yourself. Are you gonna listen to a bunch of assholes who don’t matter? Or are you gonna listen to me ?” When your jaw drops, he pushes. “If you don’t want to do this, that’s fine. I’ll let it go. But not if this is your reason.”

“My reason, Kei -” You spit, matching his anger. “-is that I don’t feel like being the laughing stock of your little fanbase.”

“And you think this is gonna stop them?” He smiles, but it’s irritated. “You want me to find some supermodel to date? You think they won’t make comparisons between you and the girl on my arm?”

You hadn’t thought of that.

That you wouldn’t be the pathetic, pining girl trailing after Tsukishima Kei anymore.

You’d be the jealous friend.

Pathetic, pining, jealous little Y/n.

A light flashes in your periphery, and a headline flashes with it – a week from now, when the Sendai Frogs have confirmed his new, unnamed girlfriend to the public.

Tsukishima Kei and Friend Y/l/n Y/n Seen Arguing – New Relationship the Cause?

You’re unable to stop the aggravated growl that spills out when you sigh through your nose.

“They think they know who you are, Y/n. But they don’t. They fucked it up.” Tsukki keeps your gaze locked on his – his eyes are dangerous, like he’s predicting the headlines, too.

He leans toward you. “So show them,” He says. “ Show them who you are.”

You lean forward, too, your face a little too close to his. 

“And how do you suggest I do that, Kei?”

The camera flashes, and your chest flickers with some unknown excitement.

His smile is wicked, mocking.

“ Fix me.” He lifts a brow when you glare, doubling down. “Or be the girl that watches someone else do it.”

You kind of want to kill him.

–

You lie facedown on your bed for hours that night, listening as Kiyoko laughs on your couch. She lives in the same complex, only a few floors above you, and she’d made the long journey all the way here just to laugh at you.

She stays with you the whole night, laughing until she cries. And then she laughs some more, because that picture of you in Tsukki’s car is already circulating the internet.

“You’re so fucked,” Kiyoko heaves between breaths, sometime around 2am. She’d moved to the bed with you hours ago, scrolling through Twitter and showing you some of the more unhinged reactions to the photo.

[12:24 AM] TsukkiFan0927 : no because they MUST be fucking????

[1:07 AM] user9329348 : those two have always been so shady together,,, no way that this is new

[1:46 AM] TsukkiYnShipper : TSUKKIYN NATION WE RIDE AT DAWN

You just groan, dragging your phone out and pulling up your text thread with Tsukki.

[2:09 AM]

You: my life would be so peaceful without you in it

He responds immediately.

Tsukki: ill pick you up tomorrow <3

Tsukishima Kei is nothing but trouble.

–

There are an unusual amount of paparazzi outside your apartment complex the next morning.

You stop short when you exit the building, taken aback.

Everyone stares back, no lights flashing. They just stare.

“Uh-Good morning?” You say, blinking at the group of about 15 people. One or two wave in greeting, but no one else wants to break the seal.

No one wants to ask, not yet.

You pull out your phone, about to text Tsukki to hurry the fuck up before things get weirder, but you hear the purr of his car pulling into the lot before you can send it.

The seal breaks all at once.

You lose sight of the car, flashing lights all going off at the same time and effectively blinding you.

You hear your name, over and over again.

“ Y/n, is it true? ”

“ Over here, Y/n! ”

“ What did you two talk about in his car last night, Y/n ?”

There’s a hand on your arm, wrapped tight around your bicep. You inhale sharply, worried that you’re about to be mauled on the very first day of dating Tsukishima Kei.

“ Move your feet, dumbfuck. ”

Oh. It’s him.

“ Mm-kay ,” You mumble, letting Tsukki drag you to his car and all but throw you in the front seat.

Somehow, the lights are worse in here, and you can’t tell if your name is still being called or if that’s just an echo ringing in your ears.

Tsukki climbs in beside you and slams the door. “Put your seatbelt on.”

“Why?” You ask, already grabbing for it. 

He shifts gears jerkily, and you go flying against the door as he peels out of the lot.

“Tsukki!” You scold, hearing his tires squeal against the pavement.

“You were too slow,” He jokes, eyes on the rearview mirror. You turn, spotting the army of vans that are following behind him.

“Dude,” You breathe, sinking down into the seat. “It was one picture .” 

“Regret anything yet?” He says, catching the light just before it turns red and leaving all the vans behind.

“I regret everything,” You say without hesitation. “All of it. Every second.”

When he doesn’t respond, you turn to him. He’s got his eyes on the road and the mirrors, seemingly calm. But his teeth wear down on the inside of his lip, and he’s not sparing you a single glance.

You sigh, nudging him gently. “I’m kidding.”

He gives easily, lip released from its torture. “You’re sure?”

“Yes, Tsukki. It’s fine.”

“We’re good?”

“We’re good ,” You say, smiling when he scoffs. “It’s better than me being labeled the sad, jealous friend while you date some airhead that’s after your fame and fortune.”

He grins then. “Aw, you’re not that much of an airhead.”

“Let’s break up.”

He laughs the whole way to campus.

–

You finally understand why Tsukki snaps at the paparazzi.

They’re everywhere – outside your classes and at your favorite cafe. Just two of them, but you’re uncomfortably familiar with them by the end of your second class. You’d given up sometime around lunch, turning in place on your way to the dining hall and asking if they just wanted to walk with you instead of trailing behind.

You eat your lunch with Hiro from SMZ and Nariko from Sendai Sports that day. You don’t answer a single question of theirs, just smiling and spooning rice into your mouth as you ask about their lives instead.

They’re bemused at your strange approach, and you play this game all afternoon with them – by the time Tsukki’s practice is over, you’re hoping you’ve gained at least some of their favor. 

Hopefully, they’ll post nice things about you. Only the good photos, maybe.

Still, the air shifts when they realize you’re heading for the university’s gym – Tsukki practices on campus with a private coach in the afternoons, going to the Frogs’ gym to practice after classes are done. 

You can see them itching to lift their cameras, itching to ask the same questions again.

When did it start? Are you official? How did it happen?

The building comes into view, and you spot his blond hair near the entrance. You clear your throat.

“So… I think I’m gonna have to leave you here,” You say, gesturing around you now that you’re at the base of the stairs. 

They both look dejected, like they were hoping for an introduction. You just give them a thin smile and turn, hurrying up the stairs before they decide to stop being respectful of your boundaries.

Tsukki’s got his eyes over your shoulder as you approach.

“What’d they want?”

“To know my regular order at the dining hall,” You say simply. You stop a friendly distance away, seeing when he eyes the space between you. His smirk speaks before he does.

“You forgot a few feet.”

You grimace, taking a single step toward him. He takes the rest, his body brushing briefly against yours.

You look up at him expectantly. “How should I greet you?”

“However you want.”

“I wouldn’t suppose a friendly hug would do.”

A light flashes when he smiles down at you, and you’re wondering if the world’s ever seen it before.

“No,” He says, humored. “I don’t suppose it would. But a not-friendly hug might.”

You stare down at your shoes, thankful your back is to the cameras.

It’s a bit strange to realize, but you’ve never hugged Tsukki before. Not really.

A casual pat on the back, yes. The occasional side-hug, maybe.

But a hug – despite its simplicity, its lack of meaning – is not something you can ever remember doing with him.

You think of how you hug Tadashi, how you’d hug Hinata or even Kageyama after a game in high school. It’s so easy with them.

The idea of Tsukishima Kei wrapping his arms around you is… odd.

Very odd.

Still, you’ve wasted enough time already. It’s the only option.

You lift your arms, wondering if you resemble a petulant child, and Tsukki just grins and bends down, his bag slipping off his shoulder when he slides his arms around your waist. You’re pulled onto your toes, face hidden in the crook of his neck.

Hugging Tsukishima Kei is not what you’d expected.

You’d always seen him as some cold wall of annoyance – a big, dumb athlete who was always a little painful to smack on the chest after a crude remark. A boy who’d always been rough, who’d grown strong and become some untouchable statue made of cold marble.

But he’s not cold at all.

The air around him is warm, smelling just slightly of sweat from practice but more than anything of that scent that’s distinctly Tsukki . That clean smell that you’d unknowingly grown to associate with comfort. That unplaceable warmth that smells like your childhood.

His hands are bigger than you’d realized, fingers long and warm against the small of your back. His chest is just as hard as always – that unmoveable wall that towers over you – but it feels weird against yours. It feels weird to feel his heartbeat – have you never felt his heartbeat before? Has he always had one?

You wonder if he can feel that your cheeks burn against his neck, if the heat is notable in this little pocket of quiet you’ve found. If your skin warms under his fingers, which rest strangely against the spot where your shirt’s ridden up a bit.

“ How was practice? ” You mumble shyly against his throat, feeling when he swallows hard. You can’t decide if it’s his heart or your own that you’re hearing right now, pounding somewhere near your ears.

“‘ s fine, ” He says, and you hear the hitch in his breath. 

This is weird for him, too, then.

Good. That’s good. This is weird for both of you. You’re not alone in this.

You pull away, clearing your throat quietly. Tsukki lets you slide carefully down to your feet, his fingers skimming the skin under your shirt just before he pulls away, his movements rushed and sharp.

Your skin burns where his fingers had been, and trying to ignore it only makes you more aware of it.

You glance briefly up at him, unable to control the double-take you do when you see him. He won’t meet your eyes, but his face is radiating heat, a blush high on his cheeks and his ears a rather interesting shade of red.

You watch him glance at your ears, too, and the tiny smirk he suppresses tells you that you don’t look much better.

You swallow, wondering where the hell this humming under your skin’s come from.

“Uh-” Your breath catches when his golden eyes meet yours, and you recover clumsily. “I have-”

What do you have? 

Class.

“I have to get to class,” You blurt, blinking rapidly.

He just blinks back, as though he’d also forgotten why you’d met him here.

“Right,” He says. “Class. I’ll walk you.”

“Okay,” You respond, turning on your heel and heading down the stairs. You hear him follow after you, but then there’s a hurried shuffle behind you, the lights of the paparazzi flashing in a frenzy.

You turn back quickly, finding Tsukki tripping over his own feet to get back up the stairs, his bag left abandoned at the top.

You can’t help the wide smile that spreads across your face, and you know the flashes that follow are for you.

Tsukki snatches his bag up and turns to you, spotting your teasing grin before you can smother it.

He rolls his eyes, stomping to catch up with you.

“Shut up.”

You laugh the whole way to the crosswalk.

–

Kei doesn’t know what’s wrong with him.

He doesn’t understand why he feels so skittish, why his fingers are a bit numb. He doesn’t know why he keeps looking at you, what he could possibly be searching for when he watches you.

His eyes scan you while he walks you across campus to your next class. He barely notices the people whispering around you, his gaze tracking the uneven rise and fall of your chest and the white-knuckled grip you have on your bag.

Okay. So you felt it, too.

Good. He’s not crazy.

The memory of your skin under his fingers flashes through his mind. You’d been so soft – he hadn’t realized how soft you are. He’d never even considered it. Soft and warm, heartbeat racing against his chest and arms wrapped tight around his neck. Breath shaky and fanning out over his skin when you’d whispered something about practice.

His fingers itch to touch you again, because he’d never thought to do that, either.

Fuck. He probably is going crazy.

He clears his throat, watching when your fingers twitch on your bag in response.

“We, uh-” He lets out a breath, seeing your building come into view and wanting to say something – anything – to smooth this silence over before you leave. “-probably shouldn’t do things for the first time in public like that again.”

It works. You laugh under your breath. 

“Why? Scared to look like an idiot again?”

Okay, it’s at his expense. But you laughed.

“I’m sure you didn’t look so great yourself,” He says, biting down a grin when you smile.

“That’s too bad,” You say, a teasing edge in your tone. “I was just about to hold your hand.”

Kei chokes, his cough loud and embarrassed. He shoots you a glare when you glance up at him in amusement.

“I swallowed a bug.”

“A bug,” You repeat, nodding and turning away to hide your laugh. “Still think it’s so easy to act, Tsukki?”

He wants to go back in time and beat his past self into shutting the hell up for once.

But that’s not an option, so he just braces himself and shifts minimally closer to you, the back of his hand brushing up against yours. 

He feels you falter beside him, and it gives him just enough courage to do it.

Your hands are a lot smaller than he’d realized. But your fingers slot easily with his.

He can’t tell if it’s his hand or yours that’s clammy, but he’s tempted to say it’s yours because this has never once happened to him before. Not a single one of the girls he’d ever dated had made his palms sweat, so it can’t be him. Had any boys before him ever made you nervous like this?

Had there been any boys before him?

“Is this your first time?” He vomits those words right out, hating every fiber of his being once it’s done.

You look up at him, so taken aback that you visibly become less nervous. “Holding hands with a boy?” You say, smiling mockingly. “No, Tsukki. This isn’t my first time. Sorry to disappoint.”

He rolls his eyes, flushing. “Not what I meant.”

“I know.” You laugh to yourself, pausing outside the building where he’s meant to leave you. He can see people lingering, but no one’s close enough to hear your conversation.

“You know I’ve had boyfriends before, right?” You level him with that teasing look you always have.

Had you? Had he known that?

Oh, God , you totally had. He remembers now, the guy from first year whose face he’s forgotten. And the summer fling after him.

He knows this. Of course he knows this – why hadn’t he remembered?

How far had you gone with them? Had you told him?

“So,” He swallows. “You’ve…” He trails off and hopes you’ll understand, but you just frown up at him. He sighs. “You’ve done… everything, then?”

Your expression changes to one of alarm, and he all but feels the air between you warm.

“ Why ?” You ask, your tone sharp and your voice lowered to a whisper. “Do you plan on changing the answer if I say no?”

Kei’s heart flies to his throat, and his face burns with a horrible, horrible heat.

“No, I-” 

Why the fuck had he asked you that? Why does that matter? What’s he so curious for?

“Y/n,” He starts, holding tight when you start to pull away. He hadn’t even realized you were still holding hands. “Fuck. That’s not what I meant.”

Your face is still burning with embarrassment, and you mumble a response up to him, glancing around.

“You know that’s not gonna happen, right?”

“ Yes- ” He sighs, frustrated and more than a little humiliated. “I’m not expecting-It was a stupid question. I was just curious.”

“You gonna be okay, player?” You ask, and he thinks maybe he’s just seen the ghost of a teasing grin on your face, but he can’t tell. “You ever been celibate before?”

“God, please leave me the hell alone,” He groans, laughing pathetically and dropping your hand to rub the heat out of his cheeks. You definitely smile then, suddenly enjoying his embarrassment more than anything. 

He realizes after a moment that people are starting to file out of different buildings – it must be passing period, then. 

“You should go,” He says, nudging you toward your building. 

You nod, stepping back toward him and lifting onto your toes to wrap your arms around his neck again. His breath hitches, and he barely manages to loop his arms around your waist.

You’re just as soft as you were the first time.

You lower away from him, and he realizes distantly some other students are taking photos and whispering. But you just smile briefly up at him, your voice gentle.

“Not so weird that time.”

Was it not?

He nods dumbly and smiles when you wave bye.

When you’re gone, he has no clue what to do with himself. What is he supposed to be doing right now?

Class in an hour and practice downtown afterward. Right.

He turns on his heel, ignoring everyone’s stares and trying his hardest to squash the stupid look on his face as he walks back toward his car.

He’s about halfway there when his phone buzzes with a text.

[2:47 PM]

You: and for your stupid information

You: i have done a lot

You: but no

You: i have not done everything

You: goodbye

Kei has to take a seat on the nearest bench, ignoring the paparazzi and random underclassmen that are following him.

He sits and stares down at nothing, wondering why the thought of you being a virgin is making his head spin and his ears ring. Wondering – as he drops his head into his hands and sighs loudly – why his palms are so fucking sweaty.

–

“You told him what ?”

You groan, throwing yourself back on your mattress. Kiyoko clambers onto the bed after you, shaking you violently.

“ Why would you tell him you’re a virgin?!”

“Because I am ?” You laugh pathetically, hiding your face in your hands. She just shakes you again.

“But why did you tell him ?!”

“I don’t know! He asked!”

“ What?! ” 

“ Kiyoko- ” You protest and turn over, assuming your standard face-down position of dread. “I don’t know. It just happened. And it was weird.”

“Well, what did he say-”

“Nothing!” You toss your phone next to her on the bed, hearing her unlock it and search through your messages. “Nothing, because there’s nothing he can say. It’s not like there’s anything to do about it.”

There’s a silence from her, one that prompts you to look at her. She just stares at you, disbelieving.

“I mean,” She starts. “Do you know that for sure?”

You hide your face again. “Shut up. We agreed that things wouldn’t get that far. There’s literally no reason for us to ever do that.”

“No, I get that-” She coughs, and you figure that she’s hiding a laugh. “-but he did ask… and you did tell him…”

“ Kiyoko, ” You whine, pulling your pillow over your head for good measure while you complain, your voice muffled. “ I can barely hug the guy without it being weird. ”

You hadn’t lied. It was definitely easier the second time, and even easier the third time, when he’d picked you up from your last class and driven you home before he’d left for practice downtown. 

It had not, however, been a comfortable ride home, because you two had just sat in uncertain silence – uncertain, because neither of you could fathom why you would ever tell him how far you’d gone before him.

And it had not been easy the fourth time he’d hugged you, in front of your building and about ten reporters. Because he’d turned his head just enough to brush his lips tentatively over your cheek, and you’d stilled in his arms, your face thankfully hidden in his chest again.

You couldn’t bear for the internet to see the look on your face the first time Tsukishima Kei had ever kissed you.

He’d gotten into his car and driven off, and you’d run upstairs and called Kiyoko without a second thought.

You can barely hug him, and that sad excuse for a kiss had put you on high alert.

There’s absolutely no world in which it would be natural for you to have sex with Tsukishima Kei. No world in which it could ever be considered.

“Okay,” Kiyoko laughs when you groan in fresh embarrassment. “I’m sure you’ll get used to doing the smaller things in public with him.”

You’re about groan again, but a quiet ding comes from Kiyoko’s palms.

“Uh-” She cuts short, and your stomach flips nervously.

“ What’s it say? ” You mumble, knowing it’s him.

She clears her throat awkwardly, and your nerves worsen.

“He wants to come over.”

You wither, there in your hiding spot, and mumble a pathetic response. 

“ Okay. Sure. ”

–

“Do you… want to shower?” You gesture lamely down the hall to your bathroom, Tsukki standing awkwardly in the foyer with his bag.

You see him swallow hard, and you realize how it’d come out.

“Because you’re gross,” You blurt, watching his eyebrows fly up and his tense expression become a teasing grin.

“Yeah, I got it the first time, Y/n,” He says, padding into your living room. “But thanks for clarifying.”

You flush, watching him drop his bag and head for your dresser. He plucks a set of his own clothes out of the bottom drawer, chuckling to himself as he does it.

“I probably shouldn’t stay long. If I leave in different clothes, things’ll get weird downstairs.”

And then there’s silence, because he’d said it without considering the rather salient implications of that sentence.

You sigh when the bathroom door clicks shut, falling onto your bed and contemplating hiding your face again.

He emerges after ten minutes, as you’re texting a very nosy Kiyoko. He stares down at you until you nervously lift your eyes to his. And then he takes a breath.

“We good?”

You hadn’t realized how much you needed such a simple question.

“Yeah,” You say with a breath of laughter. “We’re good.”

His relief is apparent in the way he throws himself down beside you and extracts his own phone, opening Twitter. You’re both quiet for a while, scrolling through his feed together and seeing that his name is trending.

“ ‘#tsukkiyn ’,” He says, snorting. “Look at us, going viral.”

You see a video of him tripping over his feet on the stairs of the gym, scrambling for his bag, and you purse your lips to keep from laughing.

“Look at you. You’re a wreck.”

“Shut up,” He laughs, scrolling past it to a photo of the two of you walking across campus. He’s got his fingers interlaced with yours – it must have been the moment he’d done it, because your eyes are bugged out with shock.

Tsukki laughs loudly, immediately liking and retweeting it without thinking. You gasp.

“ Tsukishima Kei- ” 

His notifications flood with replies and likes, the whole world seeming to react all at once.

[6:59 PM] tsukkiynstan77 : HELLO??? IS THIS CONFIRMATION????

[6:59 PM] kookooforkei : NO FUCKING SHOTTTTT NO FUCKING SHOT TSUKISHIMA KEI

[6:59 PM] sendaitsukki : I FOUND HER @ EVERYONE I FUCKING FOUND IT IT’S @/ynlovely !!!

“Uh oh,” Tsukki says under his breath, turning to look at you. You stare at him, a singular moment of silence between you before catastrophe.

Your phone starts to buzz incessantly, your notifications blowing up in a surge of sudden city-wide attention. You both stare at your phone screen, watching the notifications come in so fast that your phone starts to lump them all together.

15 New Notifications

16 New Notifications

17 New Notifications

99+ New Notifications

You stare at it, watching your phone glitch and struggle, and all you can do is laugh.

“Are you… Are you stupid?”

“I think so,” He says immediately, nodding beside you. “I definitely think that’s possible.”

A text notification stands out over the rest, its ding different than the others.

[7:01 PM]

Kiyoko: im going to assume your sudden lack of response means that youre fucking that man right now.

Your eyes go wide, and you drop your phone on your face in your haste to hide the screen. Tsukki coughs next to you, and you spot the telltale burn of embarrassment on his face as he turns away.

“ Fucking bitch ,” You mumble, snatching your phone up and rolling onto your side to hide from him.

[7:01 PM]

You: you fkin gbtich

Kiyoko: oh, did he see???

Kiyoko: oops :)) 

You hear snickering behind you, and you turn to find Tsukki peering over your shoulder at the texts. You gasp, and he reaches over to pluck the phone away from you.

“What do we have here?” He asks, standing from your bed and taking three giant strides to get away from you.

“ Tsukki! ” You roll off clumsily, chasing after him in a panic. “Don’t read those-”

“ ‘You need to kiss him for real ’,” He reads aloud, sidestepping you as you chase him all around your shoebox of an apartment. “‘ I saw the pics of him kissing you out front, that shit was pathetic- ’ What the fuck?” He stops, lifting the phone over his head to read it again. “I’m not pathetic -”

“Give me-” You jump, knocking the phone from his hand and onto the couch. “-my phone, you fuck.” You retrieve it, glaring up at him. “Those are private-”

“Was it really pathetic?” He asks, entirely caught up in this. “I thought it was fine.”

You roll your eyes, going into your notification settings and muting everything related to Twitter. “It was fine.”

He just pulls his phone out, and you catch him scrolling.

He’d searched for photos of the kiss.

“You’re joking,” You say, dropping down onto the couch and shaking your head. “It was fine , Tsukki.”

He just hums, unconvinced, and throws himself down, all but sitting on you. “Look at this.” He shows you a photo, zoomed in to where his lips barely touch your face. “That’s pretty bad.”

It is pretty bad.

You purse your lips, hiding your laugh when you see how he scowls down at his screen. “I’m sure we’ll get better at it.”

He doesn’t respond, just staring down at the photo. And then he locks his phone, tossing it down next to him.

“I thought it’d be easier than this.”

“I told you it wouldn’t be,” You say, smiling pitifully. “Regret anything yet?”

He snorts, shaking his head and combing his fingers through his wet hair. “Unfortunately, it looks you’re stuck with me. I talked to Management after practice.”

You shift, your interest piqued. “And?”

“They approved.” He throws you a half-laugh. “Obviously.”

“Do they know it’s fake?”

“Oh, please-” He waves your question away. “The whole team knows it’s fake. I was getting my ass handed to me 24 hours ago.”

You wring your hands together nervously. “And they’re all cool with it?”

“They like you more than they like me.”

“I barely know them.”

“Exactly.” He sighs. “Trust me, they want this to work just as much as we do. There’s too much riding on this.”

You nod, feeling a bit of relief seep into you. If the Frogs are on board with this, it can’t be a terrible idea, right?

“Anything they need me to do in particular?”

He shoots you a grin. “Make me a decent person?”

You grimace. “Bit above my pay-grade.”

He rolls his eyes. “They want me to have a social media presence. Pictures, tweets, teasing comments – that kinda thing.”

You blink. “So, earlier-”

“Come on,” He levels you with a deadpan stare. “You really think I’m stupid?”

“Extremely, yes.”

Tsukki just rolls his eyes, snatching his phone up and laying his body across yours.

“Smile, baby .” 

You spend an hour getting manhandled into different angles and positions, your debut as Tsukishima Kei’s girlfriend consisting of poorly shot selfies and a head of blond hair in your face.

“Go home , Tsukki,” You finally say, shoving him off of you and wiping your cheek where he’d just licked you like a freak. “You’re getting on my nerves.”

He just laughs, scrolling through his cursed camera roll. He picks one out from the collection of blurred shots and ugly laughing.

“What about this one?”

It’s one of Tsukki biting your face. Your eyes are squeezed shut as his mouth opens over your face, teeth clamped down on your cheek. You’ve got one hand curled into his hair, the other gripping the side of his neck as you try to shove him off of you, but it’s obvious you’re mid-laughter.

You stare down at it, hating that it’s perfect.

“Yeah, okay, fine.” 

Tsukki snickers, sending it to you. “You post it. It’s weird if I do it.”

You roll your eyes, opening Twitter and ignoring the million notifications in order to type a simple tweet with the photo attached.

[8:22 PM] ynlovely : freak. [photo attached]

It’s met with instant engagement, but Tsukki only adds to it, retweeting it just a minute later with his own comment.

[8:23 PM] tsukei : i got that dog in me

He’s out of your apartment before he has time to apologize, but – somehow – the headlines are faster.

Sendai Frogs Middle Blocker Tsukishima Kei Dating Longtime Friend: Confirmed

–

Despite the rocky start, things become surprisingly easy over the course of the next week.

The topic of kissing doesn’t come up again, but you find Tsukki making a habit of pecking you quickly on the cheek whenever you part ways, one hand in yours and the other on your waist. You follow his lead, grabbing him by the front of his shirt and pulling him down to your height when you want to plant a kiss on his face, laughter shared between you when you find new and strange places to put it. One on the bridge of his nose, another on his jawline just under his ear.

One accidentally smacked against the corner of his mouth in your rush to get to class on Friday morning.

A photo of Tsukki crouching against the wall of your department had circulated Twitter only minutes after that, his face hidden in his hands but ears clearly burning a beautifully bright, summery red. 

You hadn’t realized it then – that one accidental moment could call into question the validity of your relationship with Tsukishima Kei.

–

Your eyes scan over the most recent tweets under the ‘ #tsukkiyn ’ tag as you sit in a cafe on Friday afternoon, a strange dread settling deep in your gut.

Everything before – the excited commentary and overwhelming chaos related to the announcement of your relationship – had been due to the novelty of it all. The newness of Tsukishima as a taken man.

But this photo, where it’s apparent that Tsukki is flustered and unfamiliar with you in a romantic capacity, brings to attention a lot of the assumed details of your relationship.

You skim the tweets that address the issue, Tsukishima fans and haters alike all asking the same questions.

Why would he be so caught off guard by a simple gesture of affection? Something that can’t even be considered a kiss?

Isn’t it the case that you two had been dating for a while in secret and are only now confirming the relationship publicly? 

Is it a bit suspicious that the announcement of a relationship had comes only hours after a series of reputation-ruining headlines for the Sendai Frogs’ most promising rookie?

And there, posted only mere minutes ago, is someone who’d half-guessed at the truth.

[12:20 PM] numberonekei : lol the frogs probably paid her to be his fake gf to make him seem more likeable. not like shes actually his type.

You lock your phone, throwing it in your bag with a sigh and reaching for your coffee.

Nariko from Sendai Sports is sitting only a table away. She’d been with you almost all week, and you’d come to find some strange comfort in her presence – she’s proven herself to be a normal human being just doing her job.

Even now, she looks up from some shots on her camera when you sigh, and you feel her looking you over.

“Rough day?”

You smile wryly, pulling some books out to get work done. “Just glad it’s almost the weekend.”

“That’s a vague answer if I’ve ever heard one.”

You laugh. “Any weekend plans?”

She waves her camera at you in explanation, and you nod with a hum of understanding. She eyes you just a moment longer before returning to her shots. 

“I’ve been curating only the best photos of you, if that makes your day any less bad.”

You snort into your coffee. “It does, thank you.” And then you swallow, figuring it wouldn’t be too much detail to mention some things to her. “Just getting used to it all. The attention.”

“People kind of suck, huh?”

“Kind of,” You agree, staring down at your textbook without really seeing it. And then you blink, shaking yourself out of it. “It’s fine. I’ll feel better once he gets here.”

She looks up at you again, and you find minor surprise in her expression. “Is he really that good of a boyfriend? He’s kind of…”

“An asshole?” You smile, enjoying the breath of laughter she lets out. “He’s… hard to explain. You gotta think about how this might all feel for him, too, I guess.” There’s a moment of silence, one where she looks like she might understand what you’re saying, but it’s interrupted by a quiet knock on the cafe window.

You look up, finding Tadashi and Kiyoko, both of them gesturing for you to join them. You furrow a brow, reaching over for your bag, but there’s a hand there already.

“I texted you, loser,” Tsukki says, opening your bag and closing your textbook. “What’re you dissociating about?”

He clearly had not seen Nariko sitting fifteen feet away.

You shake your head, helping him collect your things and hoping she views your dynamic as one of playful banter. “Nothing, you ass. It’s just been a long morning.”

Tsukki crouches next you then, taking your face in one hand and forcing you to look at him. “Yeah, you look like shit.”

“Thank you. I do try.”

He only stares, scanning your face. “What happened?” It’s less of a question and more of a demand.

“Nothing, Tsukki,” You say, trying to shake him off. “Let’s just go.” 

But he’s reaching for your phone, unlocking it before you can stop him.

“Tsukki, don’t-”

“What’s…” He stares down at your Twitter feed, at the tweet you’d last read. And then he rolls his eyes, sighing heatedly and throwing your phone back in your bag. “I fucking hate the internet. They don’t know what they’re talking about.”

You frown slightly. That person had guessed at your fake relationship, but Tsukki’s denying it while thinking this conversation is private. Why?

He mumbles to himself as he finishes packing your bag. “ What would anyone know what my type is? ‘s bullshit .”

Oh. He’s trying to make you feel better.

“Just forget it, Tsukki,” You say, leaning forward and pressing your lips to the corner of his eyebrow. “I’m not that upset about it.”

“You clearly are,” He snaps. “I’m gonna start kicking people’s asses if they say shit to you.”

You roll your eyes, taking his hand and standing when he offers it to you. “No, you’re not. I’ll kick your ass if you try it.”

He just shrugs. “I’m just saying – teaching by example isn’t a bad idea.”

“Your stupidity amazes me sometimes,” You say, and then you turn to Nariko. “Have a good weekend.”

“I hope your day gets better,” She says, smiling kindly and avoiding eye contact with Tsukki.

He waits until you’re outside to awkwardly mumble, “Was she there the whole time?”

“Yes, she was. You’re just an idiot.”

“Who’s an idiot?” Kiyoko asks as you approach. When you gesture up at Tsukki, she smiles plainly. “Well, lucky for us, he’s just a dumb athlete and not a rocket scientist.”

Yamaguchi laughs a little too loud and is forced to run back to Tsukki’s car with the blond on his heels.

–

“So… Tsukki won’t tell me anything about how things are going with you two…” Yamaguchi leans in close to you. The Frogs have a home game on Sunday, so you sit with him and Kiyoko in the stands at their gym, half-watching their two-hour practice as you work on some assignments. 

You turn to the freckled boy now, an eyebrow raised.

“Okay…?”

He smiles, and you catch Kiyoko snickering to herself on his other side. She meets your eye and shrugs.

“Social media can only say so much.”

Yamaguchi nods, his smile conspiratorial. “A little hug here, a little kiss on the cheek there…”

“That’s about it, Tadashi,” You say slowly. His grin widens.

“Yeah? Nothing else?” When you don’t respond, he and Kiyoko start to nudge each other. “Nothing about someone’s virginity?” 

You gasp, flushing hard. It hadn’t come up again all week, and you’d nearly forgotten about it. 

“What the- fuck -” You shut your notebook and reach around Yamaguchi to smack Kiyoko with it. “You were not supposed to tell anyone!”

Kiyoko laughs as you hit her repeatedly. The ruckus catches the attention of some of the players below as they take a water break, and you’re met with Tsukki’s questioning stare, Koganegawa and Kyoutani on either side of him with bemused smiles. You wave lamely at them, aiming one last smack at your giggling friends before putting your notebook down.

“I needed someone else to join me in my exasperation,” Kiyoko says, leaning close and creating a secretive huddle for the three of you to whisper. “You two were acting weird and it had only been, like, 10 hours of dating.”

“It was just a fluke!” You whisper-yell, boxing Yamaguchi in as you argue. “It’s not exactly a smooth transition from 15 years of friendship into something romantic.”

“Something romantic , huh?” Yamaguchi throws a traitorous arm over your shoulder. “Do tell, Y/n.”

“You know what I mean. It was a rocky start, and there may or may not have been some oversharing along the way.” Your face is still hot from having to explain, but you want to cut these two off before they can start concocting stupid ideas.

“Yeah, well, you’re not out of the woods yet,” Kiyoko says, her grin a little evil. “I’ve seen what people are saying today – they’re not exactly convinced that you two are the Hallmark movie you need to be.”

You grimace. “What do you want me to do? We’re moving at a decent pace, I think.”

“ Decent pace ?” Yamaguchi snickers. “You kiss Tsukki the way I kiss my grandma.”

“I don’t have time to unpack that sentence, Tadashi,” You joke, wishing this conversation could end already. “But-” You sigh in frustration. “Fine. I see what you’re both saying. I just don’t know how to fix it.”

“It’s not like you need to give him a lap dance, Y/n,” He says. “But something needs to change before the game.” When you just stare at him blankly, he and Kiyoko share a look of disbelief. “You don’t think the whole world’s gonna be watching you that day?”

You deflate. You hadn’t even thought of that.

“What if they win, huh?” Kiyoko prompts. “You gonna give him a high-five, Y/n?”

Yamaguchi nods. “You at least have to kiss him. And if you’re really committed to this-” He glances over your head, eyes going wide as he leans in quickly to whisper in your ear. “- you’re gonna have to make it good. You know sweet, innocent girls aren’t Tsukki’s type .”

You blanche, remembering the joking way that Tsukki had hinted at cute girls not being able to ‘ handle ’ him.

“What are you three scheming about over here?”

You jump, turning quickly to see Tsukki standing over you, hand on hip and eyebrows furrowed in suspicion.

You swallow, shaking your head. “Nothing… Nothing-” You blink, clearing your head. “Practice done?”

He nods, hoisting his gym bag high on his shoulder. “Are we still drinking tonight?”

“Drinking?” You turn to look at your friends. “Where?”

Yamaguchi smiles and lifts his bag, and you realize only now that there’s a quiet clink every time he jostles it.

“Your place.”

–

“Oh. I brought this over.” 

Tsukki reaches into his bag, extracting a bright green Frogs jersey and tossing it at you. You catch it without looking, tipping another shot back into your mouth. 

The four of you are sitting on the floor around your coffee table, some bottles of liquor and your many preferred mixers strewn on the table with the shot glasses and three bowls of varied snacks. A random movie plays on your TV, the volume low and the plot serving as nothing more than background noise.

You squint at the shirt in your hand, his last name stretched in capital letters across the back. The letters double up and hover a little, your vision not what it should be right now.

“Your… jersey?”

“For Sunday,” He says with no other explanation, just reaching over the table to pour a shot of rum and a splash of Coke into his cup. It spills over the rim a little, and he has to shake his head to clear it as he’s putting the bottle down.

Your heart jumps a little, the reminder of Sunday bringing back Yamaguchi’s words.

‘You’re gonna have to make it good. ’

You glance at Yamaguchi now, seeing that he’s eyeing you with mischief. When he sees the panic tinging your expression, he grins.

“Yeah, Y/n ,” He says, giggling drunkenly. “You gotta look the part so people don’t say you’re not his real girlfriend.” He and Kiyoko lean heavy on each other, and he mumbles to her in a voice that’s a lot louder than he realizes. “ Gotta act the part, too. ”

You glance at Tsukki, finding him staring at the pair over the top of his glasses, his cup halfway to his mouth. His eyes narrow in suspicion at his roommate.

“ Yamaguchi …” He mutters. It’s suspicious, you realize – a warning. You glance between them, wondering what’s happened.

Yamaguchi catches you, his smile wicked. “I think he’s mad at me, Y/n.” He tilts his head toward, his whisper deliberately loud this time. “It’s just that he’s been so blushy lately. I’m dying to know why.”

“Soon enough, you’ll just be dying,” Tsukki says, downing his drink. 

Your head spins a little as you look around. Kiyoko and Yamaguchi are both red in the face, the vodka having gotten to them almost an hour ago. Tsukki, too, is undoubtedly drunk – his eyes are heavily lidded, his blinks long and slow. And his fingers rest on the rug, just slightly over yours.

That’s one thing about Tsukishima Kei that’s just so hard to believe – he gets touchy when he drinks. And even if his version of touchy is nothing more than fingertips brushing over the back of your hand every few minutes, it’s touchy nonetheless.

Unfortunately, you get touchy when you drink, too.

And it’s just so truly unfortunate, because your version of touchy isn’t exactly his version of touchy.

“Tsukki,” You start, his name heavy in your mouth. “Do you plan on winning the game on Sunday?”

His golden eyes cut to yours, narrowing with unspoken questions. “That’s usually the goal, yeah.”

You swallow, your heart pounding a little louder than usual. Your drunken mind had really thought he might say no.

“Why?” He asks, but you don’t hear him.

You just sit up on your knees, struggling to put your drink on the table before scooting close to him. You hear Kiyoko gasp behind you, she and Yamaguchi starting to smack each other’s arms when you reach out and take the front of Tsukki’s shirt with both hands.

His eyes widen, and he allows himself to be dragged toward you. “What-Y/n-”

You lean forward, stopping just shy of his mouth and sighing roughly. His breath catches in his throat, and you smell the rum on his tongue.

“Be quiet, Tsukki. For once.”

You can confidently say you’ve never tasted rum quite like this.

It’s quick, but the jolt to your system is sharp, a live wire in your veins.

You pull away with the hint of a gasp, your pulse drumming in your ears. Tsukki stares with wide eyes and parted lips. You think you hear Yamaguchi mumble ‘ Holy shit’ to Kiyoko, but you can’t spare any attention for it.

Tsukki’s eyes flick between yours and then back down to your mouth, and the drumming in your ears skips a few beats.

He leans in before you can pull away.

This kiss is as short as the last, but he lingers this time, alcohol tainting the air that hovers between your lips. You gather the courage to try again before he does, and it’ll only be later that you realize how relieved you are that he tangles his fingers in your hair and kisses you until his courage finds him, too.

His lips are softer than you’d expected – rough and assured, just like everything else about him, but soft nonetheless. You find yourself unshakeably curious to discover if they’re still as soft after just one more kiss. Over and over again, curiosity on repeat. Needing to keep testing it, because there’s an almost desperate need to keep finding out.

Just one more, you think, again and again. One more, and then you’ll stop. 

His other hand finds your thigh, palm searing hot against your skin, and his tongue brushes against your bottom lip just as his fingers slide accidentally under the hem of your shorts. Your heart jumps, and your teeth catch ever so softly on his lip. A sound escapes from deep in his throat, one that sounds suspiciously like a groan.

What an addicting little sound it turns out to be.

Just as Tsukki’s fingertips are digging into the plush skin of your thighs, Yamaguchi clears his throat loudly behind you. Kiyoko’s got her hand on your shoulder, pulling you away.

“Y/n,” She says gently, tugging on your sleeve.

You gasp, realizing what’s happened and reeling back quickly. Tsukki’s fingers tighten in your hair for just a second, but he lets you go almost immediately, his eyes wide as he comes to his senses, too.

“What-” He breathes, gaze flicking in a panic between your lips and your eyes. You stare back, your heart pounding in your ears and your head spinning like a carousel. “What was that for?”

You just scan him, watching as a blush blossoms furiously across his cheeks, his chest rising and falling rapidly. You blink, your voice muffled in your ear when you respond.

“Just practicing. For Sunday.”

And then you whirl around, your back pressed against the bottom of the couch as you stare emptily at the TV. Yamaguchi snatches the remote from the floor and boosts the volume until there’s no way you and Tsukki can have a conversation about this.

Kiyoko and Yamaguchi start to whisper furiously to each other after a few minutes, but you and Tsukki stay silent until it gets late enough that you all fall asleep.

–

You wake sometime around 3am, shifting and covering your eyes with a quiet groan when you realize the TV’s still on. The room is completely dark otherwise, so you have to search clumsily around the floor for the remote, still tired but thankfully not drunk anymore. 

You only realize Tsukki’s awake and sitting on the couch when you see that the remote is in his hand. His eyes are trained on the screen, unseeing, and he’s got his cup in his other hand. He flicks his gaze down to yours when he senses you looking at him.

“Too bright?” He mumbles, quiet enough not to wake your friends, Kiyoko sleeping on the armchair and Yamaguchi passed out on the rug. You shake your head, joining him on the couch and shivering slightly from the running air conditioner.

“Body heat,” You say plainly, and he rolls his eyes but allows you to press your side against his regardless. “You’re gonna be too hungover for practice tomorrow if you keep drinking.” You gesture to the cup in his hand, watching a slow smirk stretch across his face.

“What’s wrong?” He teases, setting both the cup and the remote on the table in favor of draping his arm around your shoulders with an mocking lift of his eyebrows. “Worried I won’t do well on Sunday? You must really want to kiss me.”

You don’t bother hiding the flush of your cheeks in the dark, too busy rolling your eyes. “You recovered quickly, Tsukishima,” You say, your tone just as airy and full of amusement when his eyes light up a little at the use of his name. “Alcohol got you feeling confident?”

“It had you feeling confident,” He counters, smirk deepening when he sees the embarrassment cross your expression. And then he leans into you, nose brushing against yours and breath fanning across your lips when he whispers to you.

You only realize he’s actually about to kiss you when his gaze drops to your mouth.

“ My turn .”

You suck in a surprised breath, unsure what to do with the excited flutter of your heart when his lips turn out to be just as soft as they were before. Your fingers slide into the hair at the base of his neck, and you shiver when his hand finds your waist, his palm heated even through your shirt.

“Still cold?” He whispers against your lips, angling his head and smiling when you lean into him. You shake your head, because you’re suddenly so, so warm, but then you realize his breath doesn’t smell like rum anymore.

“You were drinking water?” You ask, a flash of heat spreading from the crown of your head down to your toes when he just kisses you again with an amused hum.

“Did you really think I would risk being hungover tomorrow?”

You breathe unsteadily, goosebumps spreading all over your skin when he drops his head and brushes his lips against a spot just under your ear. “Why are you kissing me, Tsukki? You’re sober.”

His breath is warm when it fans out over your throat, his voice low in your ear and muffled against your skin. “ So are you. ”

Your stomach flips. He’s right.

“But I wasn’t the first time.” You lift your brows, mustering as much confidence as you can. “What’s your excuse? You wanna kiss me that bad, Tsukki?”

He lifts his head then, meeting your eyes evenly as a knowing look fills his expression.

“Just practicing, of course – for Sunday.”

The implication brings you pause, and then you laugh, covering your mouth so as to not wake your friends up. Tsukki watches you do it, a matching smile spreading across his lips.

It’s relieving, being able to laugh about this with him.

After an entire week of moments belonging to the public – moments that have meant too much, with too many eyes on them and too much on the line to risk messing them up – this is one moment that belongs only to you and him. One moment when you don’t have to think so hard.

Maybe that’s been the issue all along.

“Tsukki…” You start, meeting his eyes with an idea growing in your head. He hums, watching you closely. “What if we just… stop thinking so much about this?”

He doesn’t say anything for a moment, only offering a long, slow blink. And then he tilts his head, the conspiratorial look in his eye all too enticing. You’ve been seeing that look your whole life.

“You wanna have some fun, Y/n?”

Maybe you’re just as much trouble as he is.

“I could be into that.”

–

It turns out that ‘ having fun ’ looks a lot like you sitting in the packed stands on Sunday afternoon, wearing the name TSUKISHIMA on your back and hiding your phone from your friends as you text him. Both teams are down below doing their pre-game stretches, and you wait for Tsukki to be near his bag pressing send .

You don’t hear the quiet ding from where you sit, but you see his blond head swivel around at the sound. He extracts the phone from his bag, and you watch him read the messages.

[1:21 PM]

You: in case you forgot

You: winning this game comes with the added bonus of me kissing the soul out of your body

You: in front of all these people

You catch the smile that creeps out just before he smothers it, and your own smile is hidden behind your hand. He looks around, searching the bleachers until he finds you. He shakes his head at you, typing rapidly and sending his response just as Koganegawa’s approaching him.

[1:24 PM]

Tsukki: dont threaten me with a good time, you freaky little dementor

Tsukki: you WILL be paying up when i make the winning point

You snort into your hand, locking your phone and waving off Yamaguchi and Kiyoko when they give you matching looks of interest. The intro commentary starts shortly after, with the teams greeting each other through the net. The game starts promptly at 1:30 PM.

True to his word, Tsukishima Kei makes the winning point at 2:58 PM. 

You watch in disbelief as his block sends the ball back over the net, spinning quickly and slamming against the floor between two players on the other team. You’re left stunned in your seat as everyone jumps up, the name on your back screamed across the entire stadium as Frogs fans celebrate yet another win at the hands of their star rookie.

Kiyoko grabs you and hauls you to your feet, and you can’t help the laughter that fills your body as you cheer alongside her.

By the time you find him in the mass of his teammates, Tsukki’s already looking right at you. His teammates all jump around him, shoving and hugging and clapping him on the back. 

But all he does is lift his arm, a single finger pointed right at you.

Yamaguchi makes a noise of surprise, and Kiyoko turns to you with a shocked smile.

“You’re not actually…?”

Tsukki crooks his finger twice, beckoning you to him with a satisfied grin.

'Show them who you are.'

Kyoutani sees you next, his smile widening as he cups his hands around his mouth and yells, in that deep baritone that shakes the room-

“ Kiss! ” 

Your laughter turns giddy, and you dart out into the aisle to get to the stairs. You take them two at a time, his oversized jersey fluttering behind you as you run down to the court. You hear the whispers and whooping all around you as the fans realize where you are and where you’re headed, but you ignore them in favor of meeting Tsukki halfway across the court.

The smile he gives you is that wild, genuine one that reminds you of your childhood – of playground sand boxes and toy dinosaurs, of excited storytelling and playing volleyball with Akiteru in their backyard.

Of a Tsukishima Kei who would pretend he knew nothing about why the class bully was suddenly sporting a bloody nose after making fun of your body – one who would pretend he couldn’t hear you when you’d say you weren’t hungry, only shoving a spoonful of his lunch in your mouth with that smile that would make you forget why you were crying in the first place.

That’s the Tsukishima Kei that picks you up now and spins you around like you weigh nothing, his arms wrapping around you while you tangle your fingers into his hair and kiss him like your life depends on it. He tastes like salt, and he breathes a laugh past your lips when the crowd starts to follow Kyoutani’s lead, the room erupting in cheers and the thunderous chant of ‘ Kiss! Kiss! Kiss! ’. 

“ Congratulations, ” You whisper against his mouth, wrapping your legs around his waist. A shiver runs down your spine when he holds you there, his grip on your hips and thighs possessive and his body flush against yours. 

You wonder if maybe he’d seen his life in your smile, too.

“ You gonna greet me like this at every game? ” He asks between kisses, the chanting and cheering becoming nearly overwhelming. 

“ Only if you win, ” You laugh, barely able to hear the response he gives you even in your little pocket of solitude.

“ Guess I should start training for Nationals.”

You’d forgotten how easy it is to have fun with him.

[roosterforme]

I Love Being 'Us' With You (Rooster x Reader)

Part of The What If Collection of blurbs for Roo and Baby Girl. My masterlist.

Warnings: language, angst, pregnancy topics, mention of miscarriage, Carole and Goose coming to the rescue

It had been months since you used birth control. Originally you planned to stop taking the pill when you embarked on your honeymoon, but the two of you agreed to stop filling your prescription before that. For more than a week when you were in Hawaii, you and Bradley had sex at least three times a day. He was like a man on a mission. Well, several missions. He wanted to keep you satisfied, but you could also tell he wanted to get you pregnant sooner rather than later. He wanted to have a kid before he turned forty.

The first time you ever mentioned wanting to have kids, he took you home and kept you in bed for hours. And that was before you and he were actively trying. Since last fall, he had been meticulous. He knew your cycles, and he was seemingly always ready to go when you were ovulating. But it had been months, and while he was outwardly as relaxed as always, you could tell that he was starting to get concerned. You were, too.

At first, it was easy to go with the flow. "It just takes time," Bradley told you, and you agreed. You continued to keep track of your cycle. You tried to be hopeful. You had a partner. You weren't doing this alone.

But you really were.

Because as much as you knew your husband was there for you, it was your body that wasn't working correctly. It was you, not him, who was messing everything up. Every time your period started, you had to cry alone before you could regroup and let him know that another month of trying had ended unsuccessfully. With every negative pregnancy test, you felt a little bit more of your optimism crumble into something much uglier.

You were at the point where you hated your body after so many months, and of course that's when Bradley's parents asked if it was okay to come stay for a long weekend for his birthday. When you got off the call with them, you started crying.

"I don't understand why you're being weird about this," Bradley sighed, running his fingers through his hair. "It's just for three nights. They've stayed with us before. Hell, I don't make a big deal out of it when your parents come out."

You shouldn't have to explain yourself to him. You didn't even know how to anyway. "I'm not being weird! I just don't want to have to talk to them about our plans to have a baby."

"Sweetheart. They don't even know we're trying."

Maybe that was true, but it was the only thing you could think about. So you excused yourself to go cry in bed with the door closed. You could feel the cramps starting. You knew you were just days away from getting your period. You knew the tears weren't going to stop. Another month was down the drain, and you were starting to resent when Bradley would initiate sex. You didn't even want him to look at you. And now when his parents came to stay at the craftsman for his birthday, you would be ovulating once again. It would be another month of disappointment where you felt like you were on display for your in-laws to witness it this time.

-------------------------------

You were distancing yourself from him, and Bradley didn't know what to do. It had gotten so much worse in the last few weeks since his parents asked to come stay for a few days. You stopped driving to work with Bradley. You started working late. You started to schedule sex with him to the point that he was surprised he wasn't receiving calendar invitations. He wanted to have a baby, sure, but he wanted you to be happy above all else. As soon as his parents left to go back to Virginia, you and he really needed to figure this out.

"Are you listening to me?"

Bradley's attention snapped back to his dad who was standing right in front of him, holding a nine iron with an annoyed look on his face. He let his mind wander so far away from the golf course, he didn't even realize it was his turn.

"Sorry," he grunted, digging in his golf bag. "Just got distracted."

"I was telling you that I'm finally taking your mom on a cruise. It leaves the day after her birthday," Goose told him.

"Right," Bradley replied. "Got it. She'll love that."

After Bradley hit his ball a little too aggressively, his dad carefully lowered the club and said, "Now why don't you tell me why you look constipated, and why your wife cried when mom told her that Brenda is going to have another grandson."

Bradley shoved the club back into his bag, and as much as he told himself he didn't want to talk about it, the words just started flowing. "We've been trying to get pregnant since last fall, and it's just a fucking mess now. Sometimes she doesn't want me to touch her. Other times it's like she thinks we need to have sex right then and there. Honestly, I don't know how to fix this, but having a kid isn't worth it if she's not happy with me."

"Have you told her that?"

Bradley stared at his dad, letting the words penetrate his brain. "Well, no."

"Have you put pressure on her?"

Now he felt like the one who was going to burst into tears. Truly, he never meant to, but he probably had. Talking about wanting a kid before he gets too much older. Mentioning how they would have to start saving for money for college. "Shit."

Goose pulled him in for a hug, and he let the soothing feel of his dad's hand on his back calm him down. "Bradley, women are smarter than us. They pick up on everything. If you want to fix it, then you need to be as honest with her as you can be. Because I don't think you want to destroy your marriage like this."

"I sure don't," Bradley said, his voice muffled against his dad's shoulder.

"We've still for fourteen holes and plenty of time. Let's hop in the golf cart, and I'll tell you all about some of the ways I fucked up with your mom and how I managed to fix it afterwards."

Bradley couldn't help but laugh. "At least she keeps you honest."

--------------------------

You were mortified. Your hormones were a mess as you were almost definitely ovulating. You wanted to have sex with Bradley this morning before he left to play golf, but you didn't even know how to tell him that you just wanted him and not the potential to get pregnant. And now you were out to brunch with his mom as tears filled your eyes, because the couple at the next table over was younger than you and Bradley, and they were taking turns holding the most adorable baby you'd ever seen.

When you tried to excuse yourself from the table, you felt Carole's hand on your wrist. "Sweet Girl," she whispered. "Let's talk about it."

You nodded and slid back into your seat as you choked back the tears. "We're trying to get pregnant, and it's just not happening. Was it that obvious?" you asked, knowing you'd been a mess all weekend.

"Of course not," Carole told you in her calm voice that you loved so much. "I just know this type of situation very well is all."

"You do?" you asked, dabbing at your eyes with your napkin. "But you had Bradley."

"Sure," she told you, still rubbing your wrist with her warm fingers. In a lot of ways, it was always easier to talk to her than your own mom, and you were thankful that you didn't have to act like nothing was bothering you right now. "Sure, I had Bradley, but ol' Goose and I wanted a baseball team worth of kids. A whole boatload of snot nosed little critters running around."

You laughed in spite of yourself. "What happened?"

"Well," Carole said with a smirk, "Bradley wasn't exactly planned, as I'm sure you well know. He was born in June after we got married in November. I wasn't showing yet in the wedding photos, but Goose and I both knew he was there." She smiled softly as she added, "I loved being a mom to him. He was the sweetest baby in the world, and I wanted a bunch more. But you can only handle the devastation of repeated miscarriages for so long before you throw in the towel, because you realize it's not worth your sanity. It's not worth it when you already have so much. Goose and I had some long, hard conversations, but we realized we were both already on the same page."

The tears were back, and this time you could feel them rolling down your cheeks. You hated that she didn't get to have what she wanted, but she was looking at you with kind eyes as you said, "I'm so sorry."

"Don't you dare apologize to me," she said with a soft laugh. "I got to raise Bradley, and then I got to pass him along to you." When you nodded and smiled in spite of yourself, she added, "And I just know that he's more than enough for you, and that you are more than he ever dreamed of. Just promise me you'll have those hard conversations with him. Maybe you'll find that you and Bradley are already in agreement about your future."

-------------------------

Bradley was thoroughly unamused when his Bronco wouldn't start on his birthday. "I think it's just the timing belt," his father said as they tinkered under the hood after dinner. "Order a new part and see if that does the trick. In the meantime, you'll just have to drive us to the airport in the other car."

"Sure," Bradley replied sarcastically as he grinned at you. "No problem, Dad. We'll just all cram into the red car like a pack of clowns."

"It's not that bad!" you said as he pulled you in for a hug. You already felt better after spending twenty minutes last night promising each other you'd spend even more time talking after you dropped his parents off for their red eye flight back east.

"It's so bad, Baby Girl," your husband whispered into your hair. "I don't know if their suitcase will even fit in the trunk."

"Stop being dramatic, Roo." 

Of course the suitcase fit. And all four of you fit, too. You let Bradley drive so he wouldn't complain about the leg room. He parked in the garage at the airport, and you and he walked Carole and Goose inside the departures door, taking turns embracing them before they dropped off their bag and headed through the security gate.

"Listen," Bradley said, reaching for your hand and giving you a kiss. "I know we said we'd talk when we get back home, but I need to apologize to you." His brown eyes were sincere and a little sad as he led you back outside and said, "There's nothing I want more than you and me together. Safe and happy. That's it. If we don't have a kid, it's not the end of the world, and it's certainly not the end of us."

You smiled up at him. "I agree. I don't want to think about it like a chore any longer. If it happens, then that's amazing. If not, well we can always regroup and talk about other ways of becoming parents. Or we can just be us."

"That's music to my fucking ears," he crooned, pulling you in close against his body. "I love being us with you."

Before you could assure him that you felt the same way, his lips were on yours, hard and heavy, taking your breath away. The scrape of his mustache and the way his hand kept sliding lower on your back until he was palmig your butt reminded you how badly you wanted him, just because he was your Bradley. You moaned into his mouth.

When you broke the kiss and looked up at him, a cocky little grin bloomed across his lips. "I have an idea, Sweetheart. Call it an extra birthday gift."

"What is it?" you gasped, already trying to consider how much you and he could get away with in the nearly deserted parking garage. But he was a step ahead of you.

Bradley unlocked your car, handed you the keys, and unbuckled his belt. He eased himself carefully onto the backseat, rubbed his thigh and braced his big foot against the center console. "Come here," he coaxed, and you climbed right in.

-------------------------

[woso-dreamzzz]

Youth Team

Hardersson x Teen!Reader

Part of The Big Adventures Universe

Summary: The final of the Under-17 Euros

Your call-up to join Denmark's Under-17 team comes on a random Wednesday.

You're freshly fifteen and have just gotten back from practice, throwing your hair up into a ponytail and shoving your dirty keeper gloves into the washing machine.

"I'm home!"

You don't really expect anyone to answer but Momma appears in front of you in an instant, a phone tucked under her ear.

"It's for you," She says and you take it in confusion - unsure of who would call your Momma instead of just you.

"Hello?"

"Is this y/n?" The voice on the other line asks. It's a little weird hearing someone call you by your name like that. Your mothers never outgrew calling you your childhood nickname and everyone at training just called you by your last name.

"Er...Yes?"

You can hear their smile down the phone and something unknown stirs within you.

"I'm calling on behalf of Denmark's Under Seventeen Squad. We'd be delighted to have you join us at camp this year."

You're speechless for a moment, eyes wide in shock as you look at Momma, who is smiling and nodding at you.

"Y-Yeah! Yeah, I'd love to come!"

"Excellent. Details will be sent to your mothers and we look forward to seeing you at Viborg soon."

That was months ago now and, as you slip into your kit, you can't help but think back on it. You're still fifteen, one of the youngest on the squad but you've still managed to clinch the first keeper position from your sixteen-year-old counterpart.

You're up against Germany (but everybody already knew that you would be, they'd been on a winning streak since before you were born) and you take the time before kick-off to take steadying breaths.

Eriksson-Harder is on the back of your jersey. It was a small consolation prize for Morsa, putting her last name first on your back after you chose Denmark over Sweden for the youth teams. Sweden had called too, only several hours too late and you had to reject their offer in favour of Denmark.

Morsa had been a bit miffed but after you promised to put her name first, she was placated (if only for a moment before she arrogantly reminded Momma that you had all the time in the world to choose Sweden's senior team).

"Alright there?" One of your teammates asks as you ready yourself to walk out.

"Peachy," You say sarcastically," Just..." You shrug. "At least try to keep them from getting close enough to shoot?"

She laughs. "It's Germany. I don't think we get that luxury."

She's right because most of the match is spent viciously defending your clean sheet.

You jump.

You dive.

You punch.

You do everything in your power to keep the German goals from taking this from you.

"Come on!" You yell in triumph as you narrowly grab onto the ball. The speed at which it came at you nearly winds you but you recover quickly, kicking it quickly to one of your defenders to send it further up the pitch. "Come at me!"

It's a vicious game and your whole uniform is dirty and raked with mud from the amount of times that you have dived to the ground to stop the ball.

It all comes to a head though when the ninety minutes are up and neither team has scored.

Penalties.

You despise penalties with all your heart (although you're incredibly skilled at them). They're the bane of your existence (but at this point, you don't know that you'll never let one in throughout your entire career). It's made even worse when Denmark starts it off. The ball tips out of target.

You step up.

Shot.

Deflect.

It goes on for a few excruciating rounds. None of your penalty takers seem to be able to score and you're left to make sure that Germany can't either.

Shot.

Deflect.

Shot.

Deflect.

Shot.

Deflect.

Finally though, on the fifth kick, your captain manages to just squeeze one past Germany's keeper and you're left to make sure it stays that way.

If this next ball goes through, it's more penalties.

If not...Well you knew what happened if it didn't go in.

You bounce on your feet, gloves up and ready as Germany's captain readies herself.

She looks like she's aiming right.

The crowd is silent.

She kicks the ball.

You move left...

And catch the ball in your hands easily.

The stadium erupts.

You scream. Your team mobs you and suddenly everyone is talking over each other and laughing and crying and screaming their joy for everyone to see.

You break from the group, still clutching the ball in your hands as you run to the crowd.

To Momma and Morsa.

Tears are spilling down your cheeks as you hop the railing and crash into their arms.

You're not quite sure who's at your front and who's at your back but you just know that Morsa and Momma are here and they're holding you and you've just won the Under-17 Euros.

You're still crying as you pull away to see Momma's the one in front of you. She's crying too, cupping your face and raining kisses on your forehead.

"You did so well, princesse." Morsa's still holding you from behind. "So well. We're so proud of you."

"Denmark's first goalkeeper," Momma says," Winning on penalties."

You grin, your tears having run dry even as you're still overwhelmed by emotions. "So you think I'll stay first keeper?"

Morsa laughs from behind you and you turn around to face her, seeing the pride shining in her eyes. "Definitely. Although, hopefully, you won't stick with Denmark."

"I don't know," Momma teases," She's just won her first Euros. I'd say that staying with Denmark might be her good luck charm."

"She's going to be good enough not to need luck."

You have to break away from them to collect your medal and have a little hold of the trophy but you head straight back.

You take off your medal as soon as you reach them and place it around Momma's neck.

"There'll be more," You promise her and Morsa," There'll be so many more."

[d0youc0py]

Even when he wasn’t working his mask seem to haunt him. He wanted to be here with you- but every time he looked in the mirror he was pulled away. Red bumps littered his jaw and some even around his hairline. He had always struggled with acne, having the acne scars to prove it, but it seemed to be getting worse. He’d been in a hotter climate this last mission, the sweat and not being able to air out his face was taking its toll.

He felt so unattractive. He quickly figured out when you feel ugly- you act ugly.

“Sweetheart, open up.” Simon sighed, his hand knocking at the door to emphasize. You two had just gone out on your first date since he’s been back and he snipped at you the whole time.

“Fuck off!”

Ouch.

“Sweetheart.” He started again. The bedroom door finally swung open. His body tensed at your teary face.

“I don’t know what happened to you while you were out there, and god knows you won’t tell me, but you have no right to take it out on me. I’ve been waiting for you to come home for the past three weeks and what am I greeted with? Hostility. It’s like I can’t do anything right.” You sputtered, glaring up at him. His hand instinctively went up to wipe the tears away from your face. He had never been the best at comforting people, but he would do anything to get your tears to stop.

“You’re right.” He admitted. The glare left your face. He was usually much more stubborn- unless he knew he in the was wrong. You softened. “It has nothin to do with work, at least not in the way you think.” His hand went up to rub his jaw but he quickly stopped himself. “I just haven’t been feeling”- He paused. He brought his hand up and motioned to his jaw, turning his head to the side.

“Si.” You murmured. You had noticed a little flare in his skin, but you didn’t really process it. He was always so handsome in your eyes. Your fingers reached up and traced along his cheekbone. “I understand.”

“Shouldn’t take it out on you though, yeah?” He affirmed.

“No you shouldn’t, but I understand now.” You smiled softly, pressing a kiss to his chin. “You’re so handsome, you know.” You mumbled down his neck. He flushed, clearing his throat. “Do you want some help with it?” You offered.

His metabolism wasn’t what it use to be. Luckily the physical activity of his job kept away any unwanted pounds. That was until he was forced to go on medical leave and spend three months ‘taking it easy.’

He would be completely lying if he said he hadn’t enjoyed it though. Being home with you had been heaven- but a bit of hell on his waistline. He noticed it a bit, but he honestly didn’t think anyone else would. He was rudely awoken when he arrived back at base only to have Soap and Gaz poke fun at him. He knew it was all in good fun, but his first thoughts were about you. Had you noticed? If you did, how did you feel about it? He hushed his own thoughts figuring he would loose the weight out on the field. That was his second rude awakening. He had shed a few pounds, but a few stubborn ones remained poking out over his belt.

“How does Y/N feel about their new pillow?” Soap hummed, plopping down next to him. It had been like this for the past month.

“Sleeps like a rock.” Price grumbled.

“Didn’t know you knew what that was Cap.”

“Soap fuck off.” Ghost growled from across the aisle. “Fucking hell.”

The plane was quiet for a while after that.

John shifted uncomfortably in his seat. He was never one to be insecure, but this was striking a cord. He remembers being younger and overhearing his mother gossiping in the kitchen about the neighbors.

“Alice has gained so much weight. She’s just gotten married too! Couldn’t imagine already letting myself go like that.”

Letting himself go.

That’s what it was. He didn’t want you- or anyone to think that he had ‘let himself go.’ That it was no longer important to him if you had found him attractive. That the two of you had been married for a little over a year so he could just give up. He shook himself out of his thoughts again.

•••••••••

He couldn’t even get through the door by the time you were on him.

“Welcome Home.” You smiled, pressing kisses to anywhere you could reach. He chuckled, leaning into you. He placed one arm under your bottom lifting you up to him. He dropped his duffle bag at the door kicking the door closed behind him.

“I missed you.” He murmured kissing you back just as desperate. He plopped down on the couch, settling you tightly in his lap. All was right in the world till your hands started to wander.

“You get hurt again?” You questioned after he flinched. Your hands went to pull up his shirt to inspect the damage. He stopped you. “John?” You questioned softly. He tangled his hands with yours.

“You know I have a tendency to be a bit old fashioned.” He started. You pressed your brows together.

“John I’ve seen you naked before.”

“No, love.” He chuckled. “I’ve gained a bit of weight and back in my day that was more scandalous than adultery”-

“You know I don’t care about that.” You interjected.

“I know, that’s what makes this whole thing ridiculous. It’s just something I’ve found out about myself, something that I need to work through.” He sighed, pressing a kiss against your forehead.

“Does this mean I can’t touch you?” You mumbled, fiddling with his shirt collar. He quickly shook his head.

“Course not.” He whispered.

“Johnny, you’re being too loud.”

That sentence had been replaying in his head like a broken record. You didn’t mean anything by it. You were just keeping him in check. Yet he could feel your embarrassment. The heat rising to your cheeks. The panic in your voice. The way you gave total strangers an apologetic smile when they turned your way. He had always been a naturally loud talker. Growing up with five siblings in a small two bedroom apartment was to thank for that. The fact that he had been around explosives for the past eight years didn’t help either.

“Johnny?” You tapped his arm. His eyes fled from the small paper bowl of ice cream to you. “You okay? You’ve been so quiet since we’ve left the restaurant.”

He couldn’t stop a dry chuckle. He grabbed the small bowl, shoving a spoonful in his mouth.

“ ‘m fine.” He mumbled. You sighed leaning across the table gripping his hand with yours.

“Jo.” You pressed again, flashing him your undeniable puppy eyes. He gave your hand a small squeeze.

“Sorry for the way I was at the restaurant.” He grumbled.

“What?” You asked, leaning forward again.

“I said, I’m sorry for the way I was at the restaurant.” He repeated. Your brows furrowed. Suddenly it hit you. Your hand left his and clamped over your mouth.

“No, no, no, Johnny.” You said quickly. “I didn’t mean it like that. Well I did- but”- You cut yourself off. You rubbed your forehead. Your hands reached out again tangling yours and his together. “I’m sorry I made you feel bad. That wasn’t my intention. I just know you sometimes forget your own volume.”

He gave you a small smile, pressing a kiss to your knuckle.

“I know Bonnie. I just don’t like embarrassing you.”

“We’re just so different in that way Jo. My parents were so strict about how loud I was- especially in public. It’s just a stupid habit I have, but I should never expect you to follow it.” You smiled softly. He smiled back at you, the sparkle returning to his blue eyes.

“I should still work on it though. Don’t want to blow your eardrums out, then we’ll both be shouty.” He chuckled.

“You hate it when I do this don’t you?” You hummed.

“I’m still not use to it.” He sighed, using his thumb to run small circles against your hip. He shivered as your fingers traced over another long stretch mark on his back. He mumbled something and pulled you closer, your body almost completely buried underneath his.

It was no secret Konig was tall. Along with that height came stretch marks. Mostly on his lower back and calves, some even under his arms. Some had faded, a small ridge in his skin to show they were still there. Others were a deeper pink- more noticeable.

“Everybody has them Konnie.” You mumbled, pressing a kiss under his jaw.

“I know.” He purred out as you massaged a small kink out of his back. Truth be told he didn’t really care about them either- until the locker room. That’s when he noticed how excessive his seemed. He had carried that feeling for a while, it wasn’t until he met you did he become more comfortable with it. You had showed him your stretch marks and he saw how pretty they looked on you. He slowly began to figure out that if he thought they looked nice on you, then you probably felt the same way about his. He still tenses when you touch them, his eyes darting to yours for any sign of insincerity. He’s always met with love and want. Just the thought of it causes a flutter in his stomach.

[atimeofyourlife]

A family Thanksgiving

This was supposed to be up yesterday, but it took on a mind of its own and instead of the few hundred words it was supposed to be, its nearly 3k. Happy belated Thanksgiving to anyone who celebrates! rated: t | wc: 2847 | cw: period typical homophobia, Steve's asshole parents

The offers from everyone to have him over for Thanksgiving had been great, any other year he would have loved such a choice, but for the first time in a long time, he was spending the day with family.

"But you hate your family." Dustin pointed out when Steve had told everyone about his holiday plans.

"No, I hate my parents. It's my grandma that asked me to go, and I want to see her and my cousins that I haven't seen in like five years. I'm driving myself to Chicago, so I won't be stuck in a car with my parents for hours on end." Steve explained.

"But you're working a late the day before, and I'm not going to cover you so you can drive up early" Robin replied.

"I'm planning on leaving by six on Thanksgiving morning. It's less than four hours to drive, so I'll be there before ten, well nine because of the timezone change. I took the late shift the day before so I had an excuse to drive myself, and my parents wouldn't have any reason to come by Hawkins before. And I drive home either the Friday or the Saturday, ready for our Sunday shift."

Come Thanksgiving day, Steve was somewhat regretting his decision. It had been nearly midnight before he'd gotten home, after a number of people came in just before closing insistent on needing a selection of movies ready for the next day. Then hadn't been happy when the movies they wanted weren't in stock, so they left the place a total mess, causing Steve to stay late to tidy up ready for the opener the next day. Then having to get up around five, so he could get ready and be on track to leave as planned. In an attempt to wake up, he was mostly surviving on a large cup of incredibly strong coffee. He was just counting down the minutes until he could get there.

When he walked in the door, he was immediately wrapped up in a hug from his grandma. "Stevie, it's so good to see you."

"It's great to see you too, Grandma." He returned the hug, melting into it a little. Exactly what he needed after the year it had been.

"Let me take a look at you." She stepped back slightly, giving him a once over. Her hand came up to trace the scar still on his neck from where he had been strangled by the bats and vines. "What happened here?"

"I. It's nothing. It looks a lot worse than it is." Steve replied, trying to get out of the awkwardness of the conversation.

"Oh, if you're sure. If you want to help with dinner, you can join us in the kitchen. But if you just want to rest, anyone who's watching football is in the living room, and the Macy's parade is on in the den."

"It's been a long drive, and I had a late finish last night, so I think I'm going to take a bit of a break. I might come out and help a bit later." He offered.

"Oh, honey. If you don't feel up to it, you don't need to help at all. Take it easy, and we'll call you once everything is ready." She kissed Steve on the cheek, before going back to the kitchen.

Steve made his way through the house, glancing into the living room as he passed. He could see his dad in one of the recliners, and decided against joining them. Wanting to delay the inevitable "you're a disappointment" lecture. He knew his mom would likely be in the kitchen, not actually helping, just drinking wine and gossiping. He moved on to the den, where most of his cousins were. He hovered in the doorway for a second, unsure what to say. So much had changed since the last time he had seen any of them.

"Wait, Stevie?" One of them, Lizzie, said as she looked up to see him.

"Uh, hey?" Steve replied, a little unsure, before he was being swamped in a group hug.

"Jesus Christ, when did this happen? Last time I saw you, you were like a little kid. Now you're a whole grown adult." Another, Mark, said.

After a long catch up, bringing Steve up to date on everyone else's lives, and him giving an abridged highlights of his last few years, they then got into more serious topics.

"Was everything okay after the earthquakes? I tried calling a few times, but I don't know if I had the wrong number because it never went through." Alice, the oldest of his cousins, asked.

"The phones were down across the whole town for a while after, then it was patchy for weeks after that. It was hard to get five or ten minutes without it dropping out. It took me like two weeks before I was able to get hold of mom and dad to let them know that the house was still standing, and that I was still alive." Steve explained.

"Wait, they weren't in Hawkins for the earthquakes?" Harry cut in.

"No, they've not been in Hawkins since February? Like over a month before it happened."

"Oh. They were telling us last night about how awful and hard it had been during the earthquakes, and how they were scared for their lives." Alice replied.

"That's such bullshit. They weren't in the country when it happened, they were in London. They didn't even know that it was Hawkins that was affected until I called them, because all they'd seen on the news was a freak earthquake hitting the Midwest. It hadn't even specified the state. And then they didn't care how I was, if I was hurt or anything, all they were interested in was if there was damage to the house, and how the earthquake could affect the resale value."

"Okay, I call dibs about bringing that up over dinner. I just want to see what shade of purple Uncle Dick can turn." Becca, the closest cousin to Steve in age, piped up. "But were you hurt?"

"Uh, minor injuries. Nothing serious." Steve lied, not wanting to worry anyone. "I was able to start volunteering within a couple of days. You know, helping out at the relief center, helping search for missing people. And when everything calmed down I was helping rebuild and stuff. Just trying to do my bit. But I'm fine now."

"That's good. But thinking of Uncle Dick turning purple, who gets to bring up Fuck Reagan?" Mark asked.

"Stevie's been through the most, I think he should get the chance." Alice replied.

"Uh, I think that would go down about as well as if I told him that my best friend is a dyke and I've spent most of my free time in the last six months sucking off the local drug dealer, who was accused of being a cult leader and murdering three people." Steve said quickly, unsure if he wanted anyone else to pick up what he'd said.

"Was that for drugs, or for fun, or what? Like a hook up?" Harry asked.

"He's my boyfriend. I mean, it helps that I get free weed out of him, but I'd do it anyway." Steve admitted.

"That is something you missed out of your round up. But I love that all of us are some variation of queer."

Dinner was...interesting, to say the least. After saying Grace, they went round the table to say what they were thankful for that year. Steve had to bite his lip to keep himself from laughing as his parents waxed on and on about how they were thankful for their lives and being able to escape the earthquake unscathed. He couldn't keep from laughing when Becca spoke up against them.

"Really? Because Alice asked Steve how he found it after the earthquakes, and he said that he couldn't reach you for two weeks after it happened because the phones were down and you were in London. And you didn't even know that it had hit Hawkins until he called you."

"Steven, why are you telling lies about us?" His mother demanded.

"I wasn't? You weren't in Hawkins when the earthquake hit. You've not been there since February. When I was finally able to call you, you only cared about how the house was, not if I was hurt. And you were pissed that I hadn't called you sooner, despite the fact the phone lines were down for the whole town. I could have died or been injured in hospital, and you wouldn't have known."

"How dare-" His father started, only to be cut off by Steve's grandmother.

"Settle down. There's no need for arguing. I am inclined to believe Steve, because I do remember you telling me that you were going to be spending a few months in Europe at the start of this year."

Both of Steve's parents were visibly unhappy, but they didn't push it any further, allowing the rest of the family to talk about what they were thankful for.

Many small conversations broke out over the table, Steve loving the feeling of being surrounded by family for the first time in a long time. He got pulled into talking to different people, but he did his best to avoid his parents' eye. Not wanting to get trapped by them telling him all the ways he had bothered them since he'd last seen them. But he knew they were up to something, when his father got up before dessert was served.

"Before we have anything else, we do have a big announcement about the future of our family." He said, using the voice he always used when talking to the most important clients.

"You've sucked enough political dick to get what ever tax exemption you were after?" Lizzie asked, before anyone could take it too seriously.

Steve's dad just spluttered in anger as a call of "Elizabeth." Came from at least four different people around the table.

"Ignoring that horrible interruption. What I was going to tell everyone is about Steven's imminent engagement. He is going to be proposing to Melissa Downey, the daughter of my business partner, at Christmas, they've been seeing each other for nearly eighteen months now, and it is going to mean big things for our family."

Steve couldn't respond, processing what had just been said, as everyone started speaking, some offering congratulations, others in confusion.

"That's news to me." Steve said loudly, to get over everyone's voices, once he could form the words. "I'm not planning on proposing to anyone."

"Well, Arthur and I have been discussing it, and it is the only thing that makes sense now, the two of you have been together for long enough, the logical next step is engagement."

"I'm not dating Melissa. We went on one date over a year ago, just after I graduated. It was awful, all she was interested in was if I made enough money to bankroll her spending addiction. I made up a fake emergency to get out of it, and I would rather stick forks in my eyes than suffer through that again." Steve got to his feet, bracing his hands on the table. Knowing he'd been right not to be optimistic that the holiday could pass without incident.

"You will if you know what's good for you. If you don't, it could destroy our business. You wouldn't want to be the reason we go broke, would you? You could end up homeless. Where would you live?"

"First, I have plenty of friends who would be happy to take me in if I had nowhere else to go. It's something we talked about after the earthquake, because some people I know did have damage caused to their homes and I let them stay with me until they could move back in. Second, I don't really care about whether or not you go broke. You don't provide any money to me. You haven't since I started working at Scoops. I pay for all my food, gas, clothes. If you go broke, my financial position won't change at all. And third, I can't propose to her. I'm in a relationship, and we're both very happy."

"Is it that Buckley girl? Or did you somehow manage to convince that Wheeler girl that you're actually worth something? Because I can tell you now, you are going to break up with whatever little slut-"

"His name is Eddie." Steve shouted before he could think it through, and a silence fell across the room. "That's right. Your son is one of those awful queers that you keep campaigning against, to keep them illegal and get them locked up. And you know what? He's easily the best sex I've ever had. Especially when we get high first."

"Why you-" His father roared, his face turning a dark red in anger. "How dare you do this to us? After everything we have done for you. You'd better hope that those friends of yours would be willing to take you in, because you are not living under my roof any longer. You will have until the end of the weekend to collect your belongings, anything left will be burned."

"Except, it isn't your roof, is it Richard? If I remember correctly, I was the one who paid the mortgage. My name is the one on the deed to the property in Hawkins. I just allowed you to live there, rent-free might I add, because it made sense for you to live somewhere close to Indianapolis when your business was taking off. I had been planning to sell up. So I think maybe you should be the one to collect your belongings from that house, because I'm not sure if I want you living under my roof any longer. It sounds life you're almost never there, anyway." Steve's grandma replied.

"But, mother-" His father started.

"But nothing, Richard. I don't know where you learnt your hateful attitude, because I know I did not raise you to be the sort of man that would kick your own son out over something as minor as who he loves. I really thought you were a better man than that."

"It's disgusting." Steve's mother added. "So unnatural, and that disease."

"What is disgusting is your bigotry. I think I want you both out from under my roof, now. So, if you would both kindly leave. And I expect you to move your belongings from the house in Hawkins, as that is now Steve's house, not yours. And you better not touch anything that isn't yours, or cause any damage, because I will take legal advice." Steve's grandmother stood up, anger radiating from her tiny five foot frame. "And, unless you change and apologize for your outdated beliefs, you can forget any inheritance. I will not have any of my money going to support hatred."

"Mother,"

"Leave, Richard. Now. I'm not afraid to get the police involved here."

Steve's parents looked at him with their faces filled with utter disgust, before they turned and left. His grandmother escorting them off the property.

"Are you okay, Stevie?" His grandmother asked after the end of the meal.

"I. I think so. I think I need to make a couple of phone calls." He replied.

"Use any of the phones, dear. Maybe if you know someone who can keep an eye on the house."

"Yeah. I babysit for the chief of police sometimes, so I might call him. He'll make sure nothing happens."

"Good. And, if you're talking to that boy of yours, tell him that he's got to come up here for Christmas. I want to meet him, and make sure he's good enough for you."

"Grandma." Steve protested.

"I'm just saying." She replied before walking away.

Steve shut himself in one of the bedrooms, for a little privacy from the still crowded house while he made the calls. The call to Hopper was quick, just outlining what was going on, and Hopper agreed to keep a check on the house until Steve was back in Hawkins. Then it was the call to Eddie.

"Baby, I wasn't expecting you to call. How's your Thanksgiving?"

"Interesting. My parents decided to announce that I was going to propose to dad's business partner's daughter. They wouldn't accept that I wasn't interested in her so I accidentally came out."

"Shit, I hope that didn't go too bad?"

"Uh, it could have gone worse? Somehow me coming out got my parents removed from the will and kicked out of the house. Because my grandma wasn't happy with them being assholes about it."

"Oh, badass grandma. I kinda want to meet her now."

"I was hoping you would say something like that. Because she has told me that you have to come here for Christmas. She wants to make sure that you're good enough." Steve couldn't help smiling as he talked, somehow the day had gone so much better than he'd ever hoped.

[moonlitstoriess]

Across the Universe-ch.3 (Fenrys x Reader)

Summary: Y/n has everything she needs in life. A family, friends, a safe place she calls home and most importantly a male whom she loves. What happens when it all changes when Y/n finds out about the betrayal of her lover and her so called family? Well, ending up in Terassen and in queen Aelin's court was not what she expected but what she will need to start her new journey full of surprises.

Warnings: Traumatic flashback, brief description of SA, abuse.

See masterlist

A/n: Hey guys! Just a heads up, I gave a brief description of y/n here but nothing too specific as in the end, I want you to imagine yourselves in y/n's place. Hope you enjoy this :)))

Following the Illyrian traditions was very important. Submitting to the males wishes, their desires and orders, being a proper house maid was the future of almost every female unfortunate enough to be born in Illyria. This point was confirmed once more as she stood near the stove in the kitchen, silently humming to herself with the hopes of drowning out the ugly laughters of him and his male friends in the dining room, drinking and burying themselves in all the fat and gluttony.

"Y/n, sweetheart, come here!" There it was, that deceptively caring voice that only came out when he was so drunk that he could not even tell the difference between a goblet and a chamber pot, drinking ale from the latter and declaring it the finest vintage in all the realm.

She knew better than to argue or even think of putting up a fight.

When she entered the room, there were 3 other males with him, all smirking at her while greedily looking up and down her body with eyes that held hunger within them. At that moment, as he got up and went to lock the door behind her, y/n realized her fate. She wanted nothing more than to die right then and there.

"Sweetness, why don't you give us a show first?" one of them said, giving her a disgusting cruel smile that displayed his rotting, yellow teeth.

And so, as her 16 year old body was forcefully defiled all night long by these vile monsters, as her pleas fell on deaf ears, as they slapped and cut her up for their pleasure, y/n knew that hell would be kinder to her than Illyria and its males.

Y/n's eyes shot open as she immediately jumped up to a sitting position on the bed with a racing heart and a sweat covered body. It had been a while since these nightmares last happened to her. Visions of those horrible, dark times. They started coming back right when Azriel stopped sleeping with her. Now it seems that they have just gotten worse.

"Shhh, oh you poor child, you are safe now."

Y/n turned her head around to see an older female, with graying hair rubbing her back in comforting circles.

She did not have the energy to use her voice, so y/n whispered, "Who are you? Where am I?"

The woman smiled as she calmly explained, "My name is Isolde and I am one of the head royal healers. You are in the healing hut where I have been taking care of you for the past one day."

"I have been in this state for a whole day?"

"Yes. After you passed out, Aedion was meant to come find me but it seemed like Fenrys had a different plan. Oh, you should have seen him when he winnowed here. He was frantic! I never saw him so worried before. He laid you down here on the hut and only said 'Help her, please.' Then he winnowed again and left you here in my care. In the past day, her majesty queen Aelin and the lady Lysandra came down here twice to check up on you, but you were still unconscious."

Fenrys was worried about her? Of course he was worried. They were all worried because y/n is their captive and they could not have her dead before they got the information they needed out of her.

With a scoff, she turned her head around to inspect the room. There were two rows of beds here on each side of the wall and two circular windows at each end of the room. Multiple shelves and tables around the place contained all sorts of books, medications, and some kinds of herbs. The light coming from the afternoon sun cast a comforting glow around the room.

The healer got up and began to gently inspect y/n as she said, "Her majesty said to bring you to her once you were better again. There is a washroom just outside this door on the left and inside you will also find some clothes. Although it was quite challenging to find a shirt that would somehow go through your wings which is why I washed your old shirt and put it back there."

That is when y/n looked down and realized that she was wearing some sort of chest binds and underpants. Oh Cauldron boil her...they had to strip her naked? At her worried face the female replied with a knowing smile, "Yes, I saw your scars and burns but do not worry, I was the only one who changed your clothes so your secret shall go with me to my grave. I swear it."

Slightly embarassed, but grateful nonetheless, she nodded her head and wordlessly padded to the washroom. After washing up and changing into a fresh and comfortable set of brown pants, her old, long sleeved shirt, and new, knee high light brown boots, y/n left the washroom and followed the healer out towards wherever this queen wanted them to be at.

When Fenrys got word from Aelin that y/n was finally awake and that Isolde would bring her to the formal sitting room soon, he immediately raced through the woods in his wolf form to reach the palace in time. He did not know why or how but Fenrys was definetly feeling something unusual and foreign whenever he was around her.

He remembers how, two days ago when Rowan felt y/n's presence within Terassen's teritorry and sent him to investigate, Fenrys did not expect to be dumbfounded by this winged female lying unconscious on the ground. She was ethereal. Her gorgeous, soft hair that he suddenly felt like running his fingers through, her plump, full lips, gentle yet defined features that made her look like a work of art. But most importantly, her unique and breathtaking black wings that seemed to glitter under the sunlight.

And then, when he winnowed them to the formal meeting room, he felt her nervousness and wanted nothing more than to make her feel safe. It did not help that being right behind her meant that he could smell her delicious scent of jasmine and peach. He remembers how, when Rowan took y/n's air out, Fenrys had this sudden and animalistic urge to kill him. Rowan, his closest companion for so many centuries, suddenly became his number one enemy.

Lastly, when y/n fell unconscious again because of shock...Fenrys could not even understand his own actions. He was supposed to wait just like everyone else until Aedion called someone but...he could not stand there and watch her lie unmoving, so he immediately winnowed her to Isolde. Even though he did not visit y/n after that, he would unsuspiciously ask everyone for updates on her. He knew he should not care but, whatever this silly thing inside him was made him care for some foolish reason.

"So what if she fell unconscious? We still need to keep our eyes on her every move. If our assumptions are true, she is a stranger from a completely different world."

Lorcans voice brought Fenrys back from his thoughts as he watched his family argue over y/n and her fate. Lorcan and Elide arrived just this morning from Perranth after Aelin sent word to them.

"I agree. But she also did not seem like a big threat either. She looked quite shocked when she realized what was happening." Lysandra said while glaring at Lorcan.

"And? it all may have just been a part of her innocent act to reach whatever her goal is."

"Lorcan please calm down, we will se-" Elide was cut off by Lysandras voice.

"You really are a soulles creature then aren't you? Gods...She fell unconscious!! How do you act that out?" Lysandra was staring daggers at him.

"Lorcan is right. Unconscious or not, she is a threat to us for as long as she is in here."

"Really Rowan? I ca-"

"Alright that has been sufficient enough, you three." Aelin said as she gave a pointed look to her mate, Lysandra and Lorcan before continuing, "We won't know anything until we speak to her and that means, we also can not come to any conclusions until we get her side of the story. So either you act like rational beings and we interrogate her properly, or you can just leave the room right at this moment because I do not wish to deal with any additional headaches right now." Her queen side truly came out as those turquoise eyes looked harshly at everyone, including Fenrys, and especially at Lorcan.

But no one could say anything else because the doors opened and in walked Isolde with y/n behind her and Fenrys once again had this urge to be near her and protect her from the unavoidable interrogation that was about to happen. She had an indifferent facial expression on that could fool anyone else but not him. Because for some reason, Fenrys could scent her discomfort and curiosity as her eyes looked around the room.

Y/n noted that his room was different from the previous one. Because while the previous one had different colors, this one was covered in various shades of green starting with pale and ending with forest dark. The floor was covered in a beige and green floral patterned rug, in the center there was a small, circular, golden brown table and on each side of it there was a green couch with hints of silver in their patterns. There also was a white marble fireplace that was currently empty. Finally, on each side of the fireplace, there were two floor to ceiling windows that displayed the gardens outside.

The strangers from the other day were all here, some sitting on the couches while others were standing in the center, but there were also two new strangers that she did not recognize. The extremely tall, tan, muscled man with brown hair that reached his shoulders was not the type that could be overlooked. It was as if his presence always demanded attention. Not to mention the fact that those threatening dark eyes were currently staring at her. If looks could kill, y/n would already be dead. Next to him, was a very small, pale woman with dark black hair and the most adorable face. She was also staring at y/n, but unlike the intimidating beast next to her, she was smiling with genuine kindness.

And then there was Fenrys who was leaning against the wall near the window, staring at her. His arms were crossed which made the impressively large muscles under his white tunic bulge and that made her feel hot all over her body. But, she managed to reign in her feelings and stood stoic faced looking straight at the blond, blue eyed female who was now walking closer to y/n.

"Well, I hope you are feeling better now." The female said, standing face to face with her and assesing y/n with her eyes.

"I am, thanks to Isolde." Y/n turned her head sideways and gave the healer, who was standing next to the door, a small yet genuine smile which Isolde returned.

"Yes. Well, she is our head healer for a reason after all. Thank you Isolde, you may leave now."

Isolde did a small bow and then turned to leave. Once the door closed, Y/n's cold facial expression came back on while looking at the female before her and already mapping out her potential exits from the room. She managed find a small but sharp needle in the washroom so, that was her only weapon as her knife was taken from her when she was unconscious. It is not like y/n was sad about it anyways because that knife was gifted to her by Azriel for their 50th anniversary.

"Y/n, come sit. Don't worry no one is going to hurt you...yet." The blond said with a small smirk as if expecting her to be afraid.

But y/n had seen and been through worse situations when she was working for Rhysand and had to go on missions with Cassian or Azriel. Her name though, how did they kn- Oh, yes, well of course Fenrys told them. Y/n cursed herself for ever revealing her name to him and went to sit on the empty couch without showing an ounce of fear. They could interrogate her all they like but they could never break her.

When she saw the tatooed male opening his mouth to say something, she crossed her arms and said with an indifferent tone, "Shouldn't I know your names? I mean, I could refer to each of you by your hair colors like 'silver hair' or 'ugly brown hair'..." at that she gave a look at the tall brooding man and continued, "but I would really rather call you by your names."

The blond female fully smirked before saying, "My name is Aelin and I am the queen of this teritorry. The 'silver hair' is prince consort Rowan and my mate."

"My name is Elide and I am the lady of Perranth" the small woman said while smiling sweetly at y/n before pointing to the still angry-looking giant beside her and saying, "he is my husband, Lorcan. Please do not be afraid of him he is just-"

"Acting like a baby? Do not worry Elide I am not afraid of men that seem threatened by my presence. It adds to my ego and confidence." Y/n said with a smirk as Lorcan got visibly angrier at her while someone on the other side of the room let out a small chuckle.

Aelin was full on smiling when y/n heard another voice, "Finally! Someone who can put Lorcan in his place. My name is Lysandra by the way" the brown eyed female said with a wink. Lastly, leaning against the couch was Aelin's look a like who, with cold eyes that were assesing her said, "Aedion." It seems like all the males here hate her. Well, how fantastic!

"And that is Fenrys, whom I believe you are already acquinted with." Aelin said, gesturing to him. Fenrys, still stuck to his place by the wall, only gave her a quick and wordless nod before looking away.

Rowan sat on the couch facing her and said, "Now, since we cleared that up, y/n, tell us where you are from."

Y/n sighed before telling them about her world, but still keeping some information hidden from them. She told them about the different courts, the type of fae, of Illyria and her wings, the mortal lands and the wars.

When she was finished, they each had different facial expressions while processing what y/n just said. Aedion, seemingly the only one to quickly gather his thoughts asked, "Then, in your world...Prythian? there are many who like you, have wings."

She nodded before saying, "Yes, these wings are specific to Illyria. Those who are from there have these black, bat-like wings. But there also are those with white, feathery wings. For instance, in the Dawn court. Those are called Peregryn."

Rowan asked her next, "And the Night court is where you work?"

"Worked. I was there for 52 years serving its High lord. But then...let's just say I was betrayed. In fact, I was packing my things and getting ready to leave right before I ended up here."

"So you just suddenly ended up here?" Elide asked curiously from her place on the couch right next to Lorcan who had one hand within reach of his knife and the other on Elide's waist. Y/n smirked, he thinks he is so slick but she has already memorized the ways of those like him. Always ready to attack. Which, if he does dare to attempt, the long and sharp needle in her pocket will find its way quicker to his throat than the knife in his hand will reach her.

"No, while I was getting ready to leave, I heard a voice calling me. I did not understand what it was saying and then, I got this deep urge within me to go find its source. So I flew to where it was and found that it was the Book of Breathings that was calling me all along."

At their puzzled faces, y/n asked, "You do know about the Book of Breathings, yes?"

Lysandra and Aelin exchanged a confused yet slightly alarmed look before the former asked, "Should we be aware of it?"

Oh, they definetly had no idea. With no other choices left, y/n explained all about the 3 objects of the Trove, how they managed to gather them, or rather how Nesta managed to gather them, and finally about the Book of Breathings.

Aelin, still seemingly deep in thought said, "That is how you won your war then."

"Well, we also had the upper hand because there were 3 of the most ancient beings, Gods of a sort, fighting on our side. My at the time high lady and high lord made deals with them in order to make them fight for us."

At that, Aelin scoffed, "How fortunate that the Gods in your world atleast agreed to aid you in your wars."

At y/n's puzzled look, Aedion smirked as he said, "My cousin killed the Gods of our world. One of her many titles is Godskiller."

To say y/n was shocked would be an understatement "How? I mean...how do you just manage to kill the Gods? How is that possible?"

Everyone in the room apart for y/n shared a look before Rowan said, "You told us about your world, it is only fair that we tell you about ours."

And so, they all,except Lorcan because he is still a brooding child, took part in explaining her all about their world. They told her about Wyrdgates, Valgs, the king of Adarlan, the Wyrdkeys, the Iron Witches and their matrons, their Wyverns, Maeve, Erawan, the war at Orynth, how Aelin managed to close the gates with her powers, and lastly, about the sacrifice of the Blackbeak witches that gave the upper hand for them to win the final battle. This all happened 3 years ago. It was clear that they left out quite a few things and by the stern looks Aelin was sometimes giving to them, it was about her but y/n did not blame them. After all, she also left out information about how the Night court or any other court in Prythian works, what is Velaris and what was her position at court, how skilled she is at war or just fighting in general, her age, Amarantha's 50 year reign and most definetly, her past.

Y/n had never heard so many shocking revelations at once. What on earth did they go through? So many innocents were being forced to wear chockers or rings with whatever those demons were? The fae of Erilea were definetly different from those in Prythian. But what spiked her curiosity the most, was the information she got on the Ironteeth, Blackbeak witches. Apparently, her wings were similar to those of their Wyverns and from what they told her, y/n felt like she would get along well with them.

She turned her head towards Aelin and asked, "So, now you have no powers left?"

Aelin sighed and came down to sit next to her, which made Rowan immediately come to stand right behind her at the edge of the sofa, watching y/n with a gaze that dared her to even try doing something to his mate and queen. Y/n genuinely smiled, how impressive (and romantic) that he loves and protects her so much.

"Well, I gave most of it away but, there is still a little bit left in me. Not large enough to burn down a forest or create a fire wall but, enough to still remind me of my roots."

Nodding, y/n turned her head to everyone else, landing her gaze on Fenrys, while asking no one in particular, "What powers do the rest of you have? I know silver hair over there has some air power that can take the breath out of your body but...what about the rest of you?"

Lorcan scoffed, "Who do you think you are-"

"Shapeshifting. I can shift into any form of living being." Lysandra cut in after giving Lorcan a death stare. Y/n smirked, she liked this female very much.

After everyone, except for well...of course Lorcan and Elide said what their powers were, y/n noticed how Fenrys never once opened his mouth during this entire process, preferring to stare at her from his spot near the window.

So, she asked him, "Fenry-"

But he cut her off, "Lorcan is right. You are in no position to ask us of anything. Better you shut up than ask things that are of no concern to you. My powers are known to those that need to know of it." and with that, he stalked towards the doors and left the room.

Lorcan was smirking until Elide jabbed him with her elbow, Rowan, surprisingly, did not seem happy and Aedion had an unreadable expression. Y/n thought that maybe just maybe Fenrys would not be against her but...it truly seems like she is the number one enemy of all the males here.

Aelin let out a small cough that drew y/n's attention from the door and told her with an uncertain smile, "You...could stay in the palace, I will have a guest bedroom arranged for you if you wish. And while you're here, we could look into this whole matter of gates and help you find a way on how to get you home."

"Oh no I really should start looking for a way to leave, and besides, your males do not seem to want me he-"

"Finally, something we can agr-"

"No." Elide said, cutting of her husband and then looking at y/n, "The males can go and brood for as long as they like but you are a stranger to our world which means out there you won't find anything. Your best chance is here, within the palace walls."

"Bu-"

"I command it as the queen."

"You are not my queen."

"But you are standing on my grounds and that means, whatever I say is law."

Aelin and y/n stared at one another, unflinching, holding each others gaze before y/n finally said, "Alright!"

Aelin smiled, before saying, "Ladies, shall we escort our guest to her bed chambers?"

Lysandra and Elide both stood which caused their husbands to immediately hug them as if they are newborn babies who could not stand being away from their mother. Y/n's heart ached because that was how Azriel was with her once. What was he doing now? Was he worried for her? She doubted it.

Aelin placed her hand on y/n's shoulder to bring her back to reality, as she softly said, "Come"

When the queen and her two ladies led her to her room, y/n's shock was written all over her face but she did not care. She has lived in and seen luxury for quite a large span of her life now, but not even her bedchambers at Velaris or the ones at Dawn court could ever come close to this.

The room was medium sized which added to its comfort. On the right side of the wall, was a large bed with a golden headboard, pale pink or almost white covers and white, see through curtains hanging above. Next to it, was a small, beige nightstand that had a small vase full of daisies, lilacs and a candle that stood on a small golden holder. Opposite to the bed, on the left side of the wall, was a white table with golden designs around the corners that held a large mirror, various beauty products and a singular vase full of white roses. Right next to it, was a white door which Aelin said leads to the washroom and beyond that, the large wardrobe. In front of it was a small, soft, white chair with golden stag figures over it. In the middle of the room, was a small, low, cream colored rectangular table and next to it, were two light gold lounge chairs. Behind the table and the chairs, was one large floor to ceiling window that was covered by, again, white see through curtains and beyond that, it seemed that there was a balcony that overlooked the vast expanse of this territory. The floor was covered in a large, white rug with pale pink and gold designs all over it. The room smelled of roses, vanilla, and other lovely citrusy scents.

"Aelin, I am so glad you listened to me when I said that we needed to have a feminine guest room for our female visitors." Elide said, gazing lovingly into the room.

"One of the best rooms in the West wing." Lysandra said before winking at y/n.

"Get some rest, I shall have food delivered to you and we can begin tomorrow."

Y/n gave a small thankful nod, but before she could say anything else, a messenger with black hair and gray eyes came into the room, bowed to Aelin and said with a small smirk, "Your message was received. King Dorian can't come now which is why Chaol and Yrene are on their way."

Aelin smiled and said, "Thank you Nox, what about Manon?"

"The queen of witches has not replied yet but it seems she has a lot to do in her kingdom. After all, she has to share it. My guess is that she and Dorian will come together."

"Ah those two, I am counting down the days till I hear of their union." Lysandra said while shaking her head.

When Nox saw y/n, he swept his gaze all over her, smirked even bigger than before, before bowing to Aelin and exiting the room.

Aelin, who saw the whole thing, just smiled shaking her head and said, "Nox Owens. He is...we have been friends ever since I was 18 and now he is my main messenger."

Elide took Aelin and Lysandra's hand and led them towards the door but not before saying, "Good night y/n! See you tomorrow."

And as y/n got ready for bed and ate her food, all alone in this foreign place, she wondered what her future held for her and how she would get home.

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A/n: 4.4k words! Wow... but it was so much fun to write and also why not give you guys some more juicy stuff? Anyways, hope you guys enjoyed reading this and see you in the next chapter <3

Taglist: @wallacewillow0773638 @cleverzonkwombatsludge @ladespedidas @mis-lil-red @going-through-shit @kaitttttttt @bunnyredgirl @crazylokonugget @blackgirlmagicforever

[steddielations]

Eddie’s missing. Steve can’t form a coherent thought beyond: Eddie’s missing, find him. The last few hours, it’s been his every thought, his every action.

There’s never a smooth visit to Hawkins. Eddie’s reputation has only gotten worse in the years since they moved to Chicago. Every time they come back, something goes wrong. But Eddie wanted to spend Wayne’s birthday with him, which also happens to be his mom’s birthday. That’s why he put on Wayne’s Muddy Waters record after a few drinks too many, mumbling, “Doesn’t sound the same.”

One second, Eddie was drunkenly rocking to the music, then he went outside for a smoke and didn’t come back. 

Wayne shouldn’t be out in the cold weather, but nothing could stop him from getting in his pickup to look for Eddie.

Steve’s mind jumps to nightmare conclusions. Eddie still has enemies, maybe they’re finally taking their revenge. Or what if they hadn’t destroyed the gate afterall and something worse took Eddie? Steve’s mind skipped every small explanation, but that detail about Eddie’s mom comes back.

He’s searching backroads and the thought leads him down Philadelphia street. No one goes there anymore, convinced there’s more ‘Munson victims’ buried where Eddie’s childhood home once stood.

Steve sags with relief when he shines the headlights and sees Eddie among the piles of old burned wood.

“Eddie!” Steve’s already jumping out the car, hurrying to him, “Oh God, there you are. What are you doing out here, baby? You okay?”

Eddie doesn’t seem to realize Steve’s there, frantically digging through the rubble. Looking for something.

“Eddie?” Steve reaches him, crouching down next to him, “Hey, what’s going on? Are you hurt?”

Without looking up, Eddie mumbles something like, “Can’t find ‘em.” 

“Can’t find what?” Steve asks, keeping his tone soft despite how worried and confused he is. Eddie doesn’t answer. There’s random cuts and splinters on his hands, covered in dirt and soot but he doesn’t slow down. Steve winces at the sight and reaches for his shoulder, rubbing gently to get his attention. 

“Eddie, look at me, hey. What is it? You can’t find what?”

Finally, Eddie turns to look at him. Though, his stare is a thousand miles away, eyes wide and bloodshot. The headlights show tear tracks through the soot dirtying his face. It’s like he’s in a trance, still mumbling things Steve can’t quite make out. He can smell the beer on Eddie, but he knows this isn’t just from drinking. Eddie gets stuck in his head sometimes, like in the boathouse all those years ago. Reliving nightmares from '86, and things that happened to him long before that too. 

“Her records,” Eddie stresses, “My mom’s records. I left them right here.” 

Steve looks down where he points to nothing but charred, rotting wood. There hasn’t been a house here in years. Steve remembers the fire, everyone said Eddie did it just because he was a ‘no good Munson’. Steve didn’t learn the real story until later. Eddie told him about the records, how they burned in 84 when all his dad’s scheming backfired.

“Eddie…” 

“They were right here!” Eddie interrupts, almost like part of him knows what Steve’s going to say and he doesn’t want to hear it. “I left them right here and now I can’t find them.” 

With a half-choked sob, he turns back to scouring through the rubble.

“Hey, It’s okay.” 

“No it’s not. I gotta find them, Steve, they’re all I have of her,” Eddie strangles out, flinching when Steve’s hand slides behind his shoulders.

Steve swallows down the emotion swelling in his chest. Feeling powerless to really do anything, he says, “Okay, we’ll— we’ll find them. It’s okay.”

That’s the only thing that seems to ease Eddie. Though, the way he slumps seems like he knows it’s not true, but lets himself believe it anyway. Just for the comfort. 

He’s breathing raggedly, shivering in the cold and every sob rattles his body under Steve’s hand. Finally, he lets himself sink fully into Steve, his cold wet nose pressed to Steve’s collarbone.

“S’all I got. Momma’s music,” he keeps repeating as Steve rubs his back, so drunk and so sad, “Gotta get ‘em back. S’all I got left of her.” 

“I know, baby, we’ll find them.” Steve presses kisses into Eddie’s forehead, holding him and rubbing his back. It’s not the truth, Eddie knows that, but he doesn’t need the truth right now. So Steve says it again and again, as long as Eddie needs to hear it. “We’ll find them.”

[ibetonlosinghuskies]

patience and pleasure pt 5

summary: the morning after the party, paige and azzi grapple with their feelings. as they navigate the aftermath of their shared moment, both struggling to read each others' emotions and define their relationship.

cw: fluff, slight angst.

disclaimer: everything i write is fictional, any and all similarities to real life is not intensional.

word count 4.7k +

author's note: ik yall are fed up with my melodramatic ass i’m sorry 😭

paige's pov:

the morning light through my blinds is harsh and telling. the events of last night flood my mind. slow dancing in the street, pleading her to hear me out.

i remember everything.

the hurt in azzi's eyes, gentle and hopeful. her kiss on my forehead felt more like a goodbye than anything else. a rush of embarrassment courses through me. all my desperation for nothing.

years of carefully towing the line between friendship and something more, all undone by my alcohol fueled vulnerability. this wasn't to say i didn't mean it, though. i felt a strange relief that night, even if she hadn't believed me, it felt good to finally get it off my chest.

i should text her and apologize.

my fingers hover over the screen, debating what i should say. what do i even tell her after all of this? i'm left without words, everything i've ever wanted to say, was said last night.

the words i want to type burn in my throat: "i meant every word i said."

but i can't bring myself to do it. the memory of azzi's pained expression, filled with a slight pity. her gentle rejection, while seemingly reluctant, stops me cold.

what if i tell her i remember and it ruins everything? what if my honesty costs me the most important person in my life?

my chest tightens, an anxiety builds between my ribs. and to make matters worse, i'm definitely hungover from last night.

maybe it's better if i just pretend i forgot.

the thought of denying my feelings feels like a betrayal—both to azzi and to myself. i've spent years hiding my feelings, making them smaller, more manageable. but now that they're out in the open, how can i possibly go back from that?

my mind races with possible messages to send her, each one feeling like a step backward. maybe this is what she wants? maybe azzi doesn't feel the same and was just trying to spare my feelings? give me an out, an opportunity to forget and move on.

she wouldn't let me tell her i was in love with her.

the phrase still lingers on my tongue, catching in my throat. i need to think logically here, but my mind is fuzzy and filled with what-ifs.

the next few days blur together in a haze of anxiety and embarrassment. every time my phone buzzed, my heart skipped a beat, hoping it was her.

i tried everything to keep my mind off of her. i spent hours on the court, lobbing up the ball. my performance was lacking, my body reflecting my mind. i ran drills until my legs burned and my lungs ached.

i couldn't outrun my feelings.

i prayed that god would save me from this. give me the right words, the courage to speak to her. i begged god to take her away from me if it wasn't meant to be.

every time i closed my eyes to pray, i saw her face.

i had a few days between the end of the season and training camp, so i went back home to minnesota. packing away all of my emotions in a carry-on bag. thinking that if i pretend to forget long enough, maybe i really will.

i can leave everything here, all of my mistakes, left behind in storrs.

i should be happy to see my family, especially after so long. i've missed them immensely, but as we greet each other, my mind still wanders to her.

"welcome home, paigey!" drew calls from the driveway, standing between my mother's legs. my heart aches, he's gotten taller since i last saw him.

"hi guys," i greet them both, my voice steadier than i felt. they helped me carry my bags into the house. it came naturally to them, after years of supporting me through tournaments and travel. but this time was different. this time, they were carrying more than just clothes and basketball shoes.

deep within those zippers—the heartache, the regret, my unspoken truth. everything i tried to leave behind.

the weight of my baggage laden on my family's shoulders.

the rest of the day, we fall into a familiar rhythm. mom's home-cooked meals, drew's relentless teasing, the comfort of my childhood bedroom. it was easy to slip back into the role of their little girl, a hometown prodigy, untouched by my mistakes of today. it's almost enough to make me forget about everything.

but during family dinners, i'd zone out, wondering what azzi was doing. checking her socials, even though i knew she wouldn't post. was she thinking of me? did she miss me? was this killing her too? i felt guilty for being so absent-minded from my family but i couldn't stop it.

they're my family but azzi was my home.

i went to bed feeling heavy. our days of no contact burdening my heart. it's the worst at night; i haven't been able to sleep much.

the darkness of my childhood bedroom felt suffocating. the walls closing in on me with the momentum only fear brings. my sheets tangle between my legs as i toss and turn. the bright red numbers of my alarm clock taunt me, blinking with expectation.

2:17 AM. i stared at the ceiling. my room so dark, i couldn't tell if my eyes were open.

i miss her voice.

the way she'd whisper to me in the dark of my bedroom. her words like a blanket, soft and heavy.

3:34 AM. i grab my phone, scrolling through our last text. my thumb twitches over her contact.

i miss her touch.

the calmness she carries in her fingertips. the way she ordered my body with just the stillness of her hands.

4:22 AM. i tuck my knees into my chest, burying my head between them. without her, i feel like a kid again.

i miss her eyes.

a knowing spark that glistened at me occasionally, cutting through her poised resolve. the way her eyes lightened when it caught flickers of sunlight, my little pool of honey.

caught in the small space between her eyelashes, i drifted to sleep. it'd only been an hour or two when i heard my phone ding. reflexively, my heart races, hoping it's her.

i reach for my phone, my heart stopping for a moment as i read the text. 

surprise hits me first. azzi's family had always been like a second family to me, but her timing is insane.

then comes a wave of dread. would it be weird? azzi and i haven't spoken in three days, not that i've been counting. our last interaction burned in my mind. does azzi even want me there? had she told her parents what happened?

hope flutters in my chest. maybe this is a chance to mend things, to be normal for a night. the thought is interrupted by a creeping sense of doubt in my gut.

what if azzi doesn't even know i'm invited?

my fingers hover over the keyboard. part of me wants to accept immediately, desperate for any connection to azzi. but another part of wants to decline, to shield myself from confrontation.

as a middle ground, i like the message. giving myself time to debate my decision. this dinner invitation feels like a crossroads. whatever i decide, it could change everything. again.

azzi's pov:

the familiar creek of the third step on the staircase takes me back. my grandparents' house held a special place in my heart. maybe it was the cozy 70's bohemian style that carried through their decor.

maybe it was the fact that it's only twelve minutes from paige's house.

i've been waiting for her to reach out first. after that night, after everything she said, i didn't know where her head was.

god, i feel awful.

i let my fear shut her down. i should have let her finish, should've told her i feel the same. she tried to tell me she's in love with me, words i'd been dying to hear since we were fifteen.

i tried to keep my mind off it, but the guilt was eating me alive. i threw myself into anything else, impatient to relieve this feeling.

i spent hours with my headphones on, letting the music drown out my thoughts.

but every song was about her.

the lyrics distorted to say her name, echoing through the cavern of my heart. i heard her soft breath between beats, real and steady. guitar chords mimicking the hum of her content.

when the silence became too much, i read for hours. clinging to the words on the page, desperate for them to take me away from this reality. i'd almost finished two whole books in the span of three days.

but every story mirrored our own.

i was living between the pages of my favorite romance novels. the missed connections and unspoken tension, all much too real to bring me any comfort.

every distraction felt hollow in comparison to my guilt. a persistent shadow, clouding everything i do.

the happiness that i used to find so easily, died on her lips that night.

the afternoon sun filtered through my curtains, i set the table, getting ready for dinner.

"azzi?" my mom calls from the kitchen while washing the dishes. "i was thinking you and grandma can make some of those chocolate chip cookies paige loves," her voice nonchalant.

my heart flutters when i hear her name, and before i can say anything, she continues. "i invited her over for dinner tonight," she says smiling.

paige. here. tonight. as in a few hours from now, tonight.

"what?" i choke out, my mind racing.

my mom misreads my panic for excitement. "i've missed her, you remember all the summers she's spent here," she says, looking back down at the dishes.

how could i possibly forget?

i sprinted back upstairs, my thoughts spinning. she was going to be here. sitting at my dining room table, looking as beautiful as always. after everything that happened.

i imagined all the different ways tonight could go. what if she doesn't want to see me? what if i ruined everything?

i hope she meant everything she said.

my thoughts shifted to my appearance. if tonight really was going to be the night i finally open up to her, i needed to look nice. i tear through my closet, clothes littering my floor.

i settle on a soft pink sweater. she once told me she liked the fabric, she'd run her fingers down my spine melodically.

maybe she'd reach out to touch me tonight.

my hands shake slightly as i apply my mascara. i fan out my eyelashes, i wanted her to look at me. when i get to my lipgloss, i'm reminded of her. all these little moments we'd share, carried a new heaviness after her confession. i dab a bit of concealer under my eyes, hoping to create an illusion of peace i don't feel.

i stare at myself in the mirror, imagining finally meeting her eyes. rehearsing what i might say to her.

"i'm sorry. i should've let you finish. i feel the same way."

the words blend together in my head, like a mantra. i'm going to get it right this time.

i take a deep breath, attempting to steady my heart rate. tonight could change everything, for good this time. if she remembers, if she still wants me, i'm hers.

i'll tell her everything.

i hear a car door slam outside. she's here. a combination of fear and hope stirs in my stomach. we can make things right.

i run down the stairs to open the door. our eyes lock, and my world falls away from me. there's a flicker of recognition in her eyes, looking just as vulnerable as she did that night. her lips parted slightly, the ghost of her confession haunting her expression. her eyes soften, just for a second, before she catches herself.

"hey, az," she says, her voice a little too casual. "it's been a while."

we hug awkwardly, our bodies stiff with the burden of unspoken words. "yeah," i say into her shoulder. i'm upset with myself, i still can't find the words.

instead, i just hold her a bit tighter. a firm grip on her shirt, i feel her heartbeat race against my chest. for a moment, i think she might pull away, but then i feel it—her finger, tracing down my spine, dancing over my vertebrae through the soft fabric of my sweater.

just when i begin to melt into her touch, she pulls back, holding me at arm's length. when we part, there's a soft pink flush in her cheeks that wasn't there before. she flashes me an awkward smile, raising her eyebrows slightly, before leaving to greet my family.

does she remember? is this her way of telling me?

we held on for a moment too long, our embraces lingering past the point of a casual greeting. i'm left standing right where she left me, my skin still tingling where she'd touched. the motion of her fingers, like morse code on my spine, a message i'm desperate to decode.

i watch as she effortlessly charms my family, slipping back into the role as their favorite. the floor buzzes underneath my feet with an undercurrent of tension.

paige belongs here, she always has.

at dinner, we sit next to each other, our elbows almost touching. i swear these chairs were not this close together when i set the table.

as everyone settles in, an uncomfortable silence falls upon the table. i catch my dad shooting my mom a look, gesturing for her to say something. she returns the look, annoyed, then looks down at her plate. she opens her mouth to speak but my grandma cuts her off.

"azzi, honey, you never bring any nice boys around. haven't met anyone special yet?" she smiles between mouthfuls.

boys? huh.

paige nearly chokes on her food, a smirk flickering across her lips. regaining her composure, she glances at me, holding in a laugh. her eyes are wide, filled with anticipation, eager for my response.

she can't help herself, chiming in, "yeah, azzi. no cute boys catching your eye?" her voice drips with mock innocence. i catch her tongue rolling against the inside of her cheek, a gesture of pure arrogance. she tilts her head to the side, eyes searching my face.

god, she looks hot when she's being cocky like this.

"i been...busy. you know how it gets in college," i avoid her eyes, careful not to let my thoughts show. but inside, i'm screaming.

i do have someone special. she's sitting right next to me.

my grandma doesn't let up, clearly amused by the topic. "come on, a pretty girl like you? what about that nice boy from the men's team?"

i feel a heat burn through my face, spreading down my neck. i bounce my leg anxiously, trying to find a way to change the topic.

she continues, "i'm just saying, honey. love is a beautiful thing." her eyes shift to paige now. "you shouldn't let it pass you by," she examines our response.

i look up to meet her eyes, attempting to speak up again, when i feel it suddenly. paige's hand rests on my thigh, a bit higher than my knee, slowing my nervous shake to a stop. the placement feels almost suggestive, more intimate than our usual touch.

my breath catches for a moment, and i become aware of the warmth of her palm against my skin. she speaks with her hands, for the second time tonight, stroking her thumb in a sweet, yet somewhat possessive gesture. she gives me a reassuring squeeze before speaking up.

"she brings me around, am i not special, grandma fudd?" paige interjects, pouting; her voice playful but sincere.

she speaks with intention and a hint of something—protection? possession?

my grandma's face lights up like this was the reaction she's wanted the whole time. "oh, of course you are, sweetheart." her eyes darting between us, "i've always thought you two share something very...unique."

the way she says the word 'unique' makes my stomach flip. had she seen it all this time? had everyone seen it? were we the last two to notice?

paige's hand remains on my thigh, a comforting weight. i cover her hand with mine, squeezing gently. a silent thank you.

the rest of dinner goes smoothly, chatting about old memories and stories. i'm desperate to know what's going through paige's mind. i notice the little things:

the way our hands brush when she passes me the salt, our fingers meeting for a moment too long.

the stolen glances when she thinks i'm not looking. the way her eyes flutter when i catch her looking.

how she stumbles over her words when they ask about our last hangout, avoiding eye contact.

the way she tenses up when our knees touch underneath the table, but she doesn't move away.

each moment is a contradiction of the last. her actions are a slow waltz—a push and pull between familiarity and distance. by the end of the night, i'm convinced she remembers. but something inside her keeps pushing it away.

i don't wanna pretend anymore.

after a few hours of this, i know i can't let this continue for much longer. we need to talk, really talk. and soon.

paige's pov:

"can we talk?" azzi's voice is soft and hesitant. my heart skips a beat, a familiar palpitation i've felt around her for years.

i nod, following her up the familiar stairs to her childhood bedroom. the staircase is lined with family photos, filled with memories i've been trying so hard to forget—or pretend to forget.

how can i truly forget when azzi's smile in these pictures makes my chest tighten? she's been missing from my heart for years, it swells at the thought of her.

azzi shuts the door behind us gently, my eyes scan her bedroom. it hasn't changed much, still leaking with her personality. her bedroom walls are covered in photos of us, a tapestry of memories.

i catch sight of an old film camera. azzi's grandma had given it to us right before i moved to storrs. the sight of it brings a rush of emotions from that night i'm not prepared for.

"you still have this?" i ask, lifting the camera. it feels heavier than i anticipated, or maybe i just feel weak under azzi's gaze.

she unravels me in just a few blinks.

her eyes soften, "yeah, of course. we used to take that thing everywhere."

my heart aches at the memory—taking the camera to games, practices, summer trips. i liked the challenge of capturing her beauty between tiny frames of film. though, no photo could ever truly capture the extent of her allure, i had fun trying. i'll always be her photographer, and she'll always be my perfect model.

"do you remember the first roll we ever shot on here?" i tilted the camera, my voice softer than i intended.

"yeah," she says, pointing to a set of photos on the left side of her wall.

i lean in to look at a photo of myself, mouth full of azzi's grandmas' cookies. i'm smiling at the camera, my happiness driven by azzi standing on the other side of the lens.

we were so young.

as i look at the photo, memories flood back. azzi watches my expression, noticing my composure change. "we captured some good memories that night..." she trails off, deep in thought.

like our first kiss.

that was probably one of the best decisions i've ever made. the memory washes over me, warm and bittersweet. the softness of her lips, the slight tremor in her breath. we were so young, so nervous, yet so sure in that moment.

it was simple then. our feelings existed in the small space between our lips, protected from the outside world. i didn't have to put words to the flutter in my chest or the warmth in my cheeks.

loving azzi was as natural as breathing, just as essential too.

i miss the simplicity of it all. i could love her without the burden of expectation. i'd prove it to her eagerly, in everything i did. holding her hair back when she drank too much. folding her clothes cause she hated doing laundry. reading her favorite books, desperate to understand her mind.

our love was in the details—the way she'd adjust my form in practice, save the last of her favorite snacks for me, read to me so i could fall asleep.

loving her has always been the easiest thing. it's everything else that's gotten so complicated.

i want someone, something to blame for this. is this just how things get as you age? the simplicity of love becoming frustratingly far away. maybe it was time, the pressure of sports, or maybe this was bound to happen. maybe we were always meant to put words to these feelings—to call it out boldly by it's name.

maybe it's time.

everything from that night reappears in my mind, this time under a different lens. the thoughtful box of memories azzi gave me that night—had she felt the same way all this time?

i glance at azzi, noticing a sudden change in her expression. she looks like she's just remembered something important, her eyes widening slightly. she starts to pick at her fingers nervously, avoiding eye contact.

"hey, paige?" azzi asks, still looking down at her hands. "did you ever finish that book i gave you that night?" her voice brimmed with nervousness. she radiated an emotion i couldn't quite place, clinging to my response like it will save her from her feelings.

i shake my head, feeling a little guilty. "not quite. i saved the last chapter."

i learned that from her actually. the way she cherished the things she loved, always saving them for the right time.

azzi's eyes light up, a mixture of relief and anticipation washing over her. "you should read it," she says quickly, her voice carrying an urgency that confused me.

she hesitates before continuing, her eyes closing for a moment in a long blink. "about the other night, when you said..."

my body goes cold. my drunken confession. i panic, the fear of confronting my feelings overwhelms me.

what if she's just trying to let me down easy? what if i misread everything?

"oh, yeah?" i force out a laugh. "i hope i didn't say anything too embarrassing, you know how i get when i drink."

i can't risk it again. i'm sorry, azzi.

azzi's face falls slightly, but she quickly masks it. her eyelids flutter, she stares at the floor. i can see the thoughts flickering through her mind. she sees right through me.

"no, no you weren't embarrassing," her voice lowering to a whisper. she locks eyes with me now, intent on making me hear her. "you were actually quite...poetic."

i'm no poet, i was just speaking from the heart.

i swallow hard, knowing she's giving me another opportunity. but i resist, remembering the pity in her eyes that night. "poetic, huh? that doesn't sound like drunk me at all," i joke weakly.

azzi narrows her eyes at me, tilting her head to the side. "you don't remember anything at all?" she questions.

i refuse to meet her gaze, "it's all pretty fuzzy, az."

i'm lying, and we both know it. but i can't bear to see that look of pity in her eyes again.

she takes a deep breath, clearly frustrated. she mutters an "okay" underneath her breath.

the sound of rain pattering against the window fills the silence between us. i hadn't even noticed the storm brewing outside, too caught up in the storm of emotions in this room.

"listen, it's getting late i should go," i say, my voice strained like i'd been screaming, even though i hadn't said anything at all.

as i turn to leave, azzi calls out, her voice soft yet determined. "paige, you can talk to me...when you're ready."

god, she's still so sweet to me. i don't deserve it, not now.

i pause at the door, guilt coursing through me. i know she sees through my lie, knows i remember everything. she knew the moment i stepped foot into this house. she could see it in the softness in my eyes, feel it beneath my fingertips.

"thanks, az," i whisper, before walking down the stairs.

for a moment, i'm tempted. to stay, to talk, to finally be honest. but the fear of getting rejected again, of ruining what we have, is too strong.

katie stopped me as i headed for the door, "leaving already?" she looks a bit sad. "it's pouring out there, why don't you stay the night?"

and share a bed with azzi? after that conversation, absolutely not.

"thanks, but i'll be fine. it's not far," i insist, grabbing my keys.

as i head for the door, i catch a glimpse of azzi's face. hurt, confusion, and something else—disappointment?—flash across her features. but i can't stay.

i step out into the rain, letting it mask the tears threatening to leak out of my eyes. my hands shake as i fumble with my car keys, nearly dropping them in a puddle.

i'm doing the right thing.

the mantra echoes in my mind as i slide into the driver's seat, but it rings hollow. i grip the steering wheel, willing myself to believe it.

i can't let my feelings for her get in the way of our friendship. i'd be selfish to put my emotions over our relationship again. i'd be anything she wants me to be—even if that's just a friend.

i'm doing the right thing.

i turn the key into the ignition, reversing out of her driveway. the intensity of the storm matching the turmoil in my heart as i drive away, leaving azzi and the truth behind.

i can't be wrong again. i can't bear the thought of her letting me down easy, telling me she doesn't feel the same.

i'm doing the right thing.

back at home, my guilt eats its way through my stomach. a relentless ache that promises a sleepless night. my eyes drift to my nightstand, where a worn copy of looking for alaska rests- the book azzi gave me years ago.

sometimes when i'd sleepover at her place, i'd pretend like i couldn't sleep so she could read to me. her voice soothing like a lullaby, i lost myself between her breaths. heavy and melodic, her cadence became my cough syrup, drifting me to sleep.

i flip open to the final chapter, determined to finally finish the book. memories flood back, the way her words coated my thoughts, i can almost hear it now, as i start to read.

i've put this off for so long. terrified of the ending, the finality of a precious memory between azzi and i. saving the final chapter for the right moment. maybe that moment is now.

as i turn the last page, a small slip of paper flutters out. simple yet somehow charged with potential. i unfolded the paper, recognizing the handwriting immediately.

azzi.

my heart pounds as i begin to read. the first few words hook me in, something all too familiar. my breath quickens, my lungs expanding like i'm breathing for the first time.

i didn't need to find the words, she already had. years ago.

by the time i finish, my hands are shaking. the room spins slightly. in a strange paradox of emotions. her words lifted a weight from my chest, stirring a whirlwind of emotions. yet simultaneously, a new weight settles on my shoulders—the gravity of what i need to do now.

how long had this been there? sitting on my nightstand, packed in a suitcase, tucked into a bookshelf. how many times have i almost read this, almost known?

i guess we've both been hiding something.

i leaped from my bed, grabbing my keys, slamming the door behind me. i was exhausted seconds ago, but now, sleep is the furthest thing from my mind. i need to see her. to talk to her. to make it real.

we've wasted too much time already.

[morning-star-joy]

but I wake up before we do it (Joel x F!Reader)

Pairing: Joel x F!Reader, Post!Outbreak Neighbors

Summary: You're Joel's new next-door neighbor when he settles in Jackson, and you're determined to add some positivity to the grumpy old man's life. Joel, however, is equally determined to keep you out of his life. Especially when you start to make him feel something he knows he shouldn't. Little does he know, you feel it too.

Tags/Warnings: 18+ MDNI Explicit Sexual Content Joel is Horny, Reader is also Horny (f masturbation, Joel hears you), Soft!Reader, Joel is kinda an asshole, Grumpy x Sunshine, Age Gap (Reader late 20s, Joel 56), Language

Wordcount: 2.9k

Part I || Part II || Part III || Masterlist (More Parts Coming Soon)

Joel Miller masterlist

Fucking hell, you were far too good to ever be true.

It was all Joel could think about, the pervasive fact that lingered in the back of his mind whenever he walked by that cup of water sitting next to the sink on his kitchen counter, with the long stems of the daffodils you had given him bunched up inside of it, the blooming flowers drooping awkwardly from the far too small container.

He had first dropped the flowers on top of the counter, dangerously close to the trash can beside it. Honestly, Joel had been aiming for it, but his hand had twitched at the last moment, the bright yellow flowers falling from his calloused fingers to land on the counter instead.

Another day passed before he stood in his kitchen in the morning, cup of coffee in hand, staring at those flowers laying precariously on the edge of the counter, hating how they mocked him before pushing himself up with a sigh.

Joel heard your voice then, being so bold as to tease him, something he hadn’t thought somebody as soft-spoken and sweet as you would be capable of: Traditionally, you put them in a vase. Fill it with water.

He didn’t have a vase, though. And he wasn’t about to put in the effort to find one just because you had mentioned it.

Still, he grabbed a glass from his cabinet, flipping on the faucet to fill it with water as he glared vehemently at the daffodils, grabbing them roughly to then unceremoniously shove them inside the glass, leaving them right next to the sink without giving it another thought that it didn’t deserve.

That was a lie, though.

Every time he passed through his kitchen, he saw them.

And he thought of you.

He couldn’t stop thinking about you.

What made the illness you had plagued his mind with even worse was the bright smile on Ellie’s face when he had passed along your daisies for her. It was happiness he hadn’t seen on the girl’s features since the first time they had visited Jackson, before the winter of fucking hell, when he had almost died, and a part of Ellie did.

Joel was even more irritated that he was still thinking about you, even now, walking back home from a long patrol that had left his body aching, in desperate need of a hot shower that he would gladly praise any fucking higher power that may exist for being possible in Jackson.

He looked down at the cuts on his hands, the dirt caked under his fingernails from where he had fallen from his horse today when it had gotten spooked by the appearance of a Clicker. Luckily he was still alive, thanks to Tommy’s quick thinking and quicker shooting, but the situation had been far too close for comfort for Joel to forget about it so quickly.

Maybe he was just getting too old for this shit.

With a sigh, he rolled his shoulder back, wincing at an ache that was beginning to throb there as he pulled his pack off to carry it in his hand instead. Joel focused on the weight of it in his hand, trying to ignore how his dirty fingers reminded him of yours, covered in soil when you had shown up on his doorstep with the flowers.

It was infuriating, not to mention incredibly disrespectful to your kindness (even though he was at a complete loss for why or how that kindness existed), that the dirt that had been marking what looked to be your incredibly soft skin and staining your immaculate, weathered sundress, had sent blood rushing right to his cock when he couldn’t stop thinking about it later that night.

Joel had forgone Jackson’s heavenly gift of hot water for a frigid cold one before bed, palms placed firmly against the wall of the shower as his head bent under the stream of freezing water, taking deep, steady breaths in through his nose and out through clenched teeth as he tried to will his growing erection to go the fuck away.

Even when he had woken up from a dream about you—one that taunted him with impossible images of that sundress on his bedroom floor and streaks of dirt left across your naked flesh from his own fingers—Joel had resisted the incredibly strong urge to palm his throbbing cock where it strained against his boxers, stumbling out of bed to head into the bathroom for another cold shower.

He did his best to avoid you once the lust to have you really started, opting to take the side gate in his backyard to get in and out of the house, cutting through the greenhouses to avoid running into you on the other side of his house if he left out the front door.

Jesus Christ, Joel didn’t even fucking know you.

But he knew that if he did, there would be a catch. Some hidden cruelty underneath those frustratingly warm smiles you sent him both times you showed up outside his door.

There was no way you would have survived this long otherwise.

Lifting his head, Joel let out a small sigh of relief as he turned onto the street where his home sat, ready to indulge in a hot shower for the first time in weeks, before the sound of light, musical laughter filled his ears, coming from the first house in front of him.

Fuck.

He saw you instantly, arms crossed as you leaned them on top of a fence, smiling kindly at an older woman on the other side that was talking to you with a small grin that spoke of undeniable fondness for you.

“I don’t know how you do it,” the older woman was saying, huffing out a playful sigh that drew another soft laugh from your lips, and Joel found his feet frozen to the spot at the end of the street as he watched the interaction. “It just never tastes the same when I make it!”

“Well, Ms. Garcia,” you said slowly, flashing a teasing grin that made Joel stiffen before you asked, “Are you absolutely sure you’re putting sugar in, and not salt?”

“Oh, you,” the woman sighed, wagging a finger at you, causing you to giggle in a way that made Joel’s grip tighten on his backpack. “You’re probably right, though. I’m terrible with this kind of thing.”

“I’ll just have to bring some more by for you,” you replied, still smiling brightly, a smile that didn’t fade even as Ms. Garcia’s gaze flickered over your shoulder, landing on Joel.

Joel frowned at the same moment the older woman did, leaning away from her fence slightly as her brows furrowed, bright countenance disappearing as he wondered how quickly he could walk to get by you without drawing your attention.

He already knew it was far too late to avoid you now, though, especially as you turned to follow Ms. Garcia’s sightline, your eyes finding him standing there, blatantly staring at you while you talked to your—and his, he supposed—neighbor.

To Joel’s complete and utter confusion, you straightened up with an even brighter smile, giving a friendly wave the moment you saw him.

“Hi there, Mr. Miller!” you called, still waving before your hand dropped, and you turned back to Ms. Garcia.

Joel was almost foolish enough to believe that that would be all you said to him, but as he finally began to walk down the street, he had to bite back a sigh when you stepped away from the fence to walk beside him.

He knew that his growing irritation at the situation he was now in was probably an over exaggeration. He knew that you had to walk home, just like he did.

But did you have to walk home with him?

“So,” you started, and Joel held back a sigh.

Did you have to talk to him?

“Did you just get back from patrol?” you ended up asking, and Joel glanced at you from the corner of his eye, noticing that you were wearing jeans today instead of the usual sundress, the pants paired with a lightweight, oversized sweater that hid your curves.

Good. He didn’t need his thoughts distracted right now, not when he was trying to get back inside his house as quickly as possible.

Because he really wanted that hot shower today.

“Is it that obvious?” he found himself drawling, the words holding no small amount of sarcasm.

Joel actually felt a small twinge of guilt as he noticed you shift awkwardly beside him, but you brushed off his rudeness with another laugh, the soft sound a bit less joyous, and a bit more forced this time.

In the back of his mind, Joel had the terrible thought that, maybe if he pushed you far enough, you wouldn’t be so kind as you seemed.

“Just a little,” you found your voice again, and Joel’s grip on his pack tightened, shifting the weight of it into his other hand as he felt his arm begin to ache from holding it.

At the movement, your eyes caught on his hand, and he noticed you swallow hard as you watched his fingers dangle by his side and Jesus Christ, no, you couldn’t feel this too—but then you were glancing back up into his face, your brows furrowed in concern.

“Did you hurt yourself?”

“What?” Joel asked, not even realizing his face had turned fully towards you now until he looked down at his hand at the question and back up at you. “No. ‘M fine.”

“Uh-huh,” you said slowly, glancing over his face again, like you were calling bullshit and searching for the truth.

He thought that when his lips pressed into a firm line and he stared back at you, daring you to say something about it, you would back down.

You didn’t.

“I have some first aid,” you said quietly, gesturing towards your house as they began to near it, and Joel was already shaking his head, instincts telling him he needed to stay far, far away from ever entering your house, even as you continued, “I can help you—”

“No,” he said firmly, and your jaw snapped shut, brows furrowed as he watched your eyes spark with the briefest hint of frustration and ah, there it was. A crack in the perfection that was you. “I told you, I’m fine.”

A sick, twisted part of Joel wanted you to fight him on it, but your brows smoothed back out instead, and you gave a nod as your face melted into one of understanding.

Understanding, of all things.

What fucking bunker had they been keeping something sweet like you in for decades to preserve you in all this unimaginable kindness?

“Of course, you probably have your own,” you brushed off with another laugh, the sound a bit easier this time, eyes so warm that he was looking back down at your sweater again, wondering if your skin was just as warm underneath that—

Joel’s head whipped around, staring in front of him as you came to a stop at the pathway that led up to your front door.

“Well—”

But Joel kept moving, heading up his own pathway, not even looking back at you as you loitered at the edge of your property, refusing to give into the first time he had felt any sort of temptation to look back at you as he closed the door behind him.

God fucking dammit, he was having another cold shower tonight.

The cooler spring day began to warm up towards the end, so much so that you had to open up your bedroom window to let a gentle breeze in before bed.

You settled under your faded floral sheets with a book, opening it up to the homemade bookmark you had left to keep your spot, fingernail trailing across the words until you picked up exactly where you left off.

Unfortunately, after only a few pages, you found yourself reading the same words over and over as you thought back to your interaction with Joel that had occurred hours ago.

When you read the words “he said” at least 5 times before you lost track, you put your bookmark back between the pages, snapping the silly little romance novel closed and tossing it to the side with a groan.

Reaching your hands up, you pressed your palms against your eyes, willing the image of Joel Miller to disappear from where it had been haunting you.

It was just the latest of the very few, very short times you had seen him, but it had left you just as intrigued, just as unsatisfied as the ones before.

You shook your hand, letting your hands drop to your sides, placing your palms flat against the top blanket as you tried your best to stop thinking about him.

Part of you couldn’t help but feel a little worried, still rehashing how he had brushed you aside when you asked if he was hurt.

But Joel was a grown man—very much so, you thought as images of the silver in his hair flashed through your mind, the salt and pepper facial hair covering a weathered face and no, no, enough of that—and he had to know how to take care of himself. Especially in this kind of world you had all been in for the last twenty years.

Still, you couldn’t help but think of the cuts that had littered his hand, the dirt and a bit of blood caked under his fingernails when he had shifted his backpack to his other hand.

You also couldn’t help but dwell on the length of those fingers, how thick they were, as they hung by his side, inches away from the fabric of your jeans as you walked beside him.

No, you thought firmly to yourself, pressing your palms even harder against the blankets, willing yourself to keep them at your sides. No, you were not thinking of Joel Miller, your grumpy, standoffish neighbor who probably despised you, that way.

Then you glanced back over the book you had abandoned, taking in the scantily dressed woman draped across the broad, firm chest of a ruggedly handsome man across the cover, his strong arms wrapped around her and oh, no.

Your fingers began to slip up the blanket, biting your lip hard as you stared at the cover of that book, remembering the smutty words of the last chapter and oh no.

With a shaky exhale, you reached one hand out for the book, picking it up and quickly flipping backwards in the pages to that scene. You desperately reread the words, soaking in the description of a thick, throbbing cock sinking into the moaning, mewling heroine, over and over, your free hand slipping under your blanket to find the band of your shorts, moving underneath to fiddle with the hemline of your panties.

You shouldn’t.

You really, really shouldn’t.

In fact, you convinced yourself you weren’t. You told yourself you were purely basing this little self-love moment of much-needed release off the smutty book.

But when your eyes fixed on that description, your fingers sliding underneath your panties to glide along your folds, a soft moan escaping your lips as you collected your wetness to begin to slowly rub your clit—you weren’t seeing the way that man was described.

In your mind you saw dark curls instead of the short blond hair that was written; brown eyes instead of blue, holding a severe stare instead of a loving gaze; tan skin instead of pale, weathered and scarred, maybe? Did he have scars on his body, like the one on his temple, and the one on his nose?

Your hips lifted into your hand as your head tilted back, moaning again as you circled your clit faster, lifting the book above your head so you could focus on that one sentence—he thrusted into her quickly, his nails digging into the soft skin of her thighs, drawing wanton moans from her plush lips—and you moaned again, even louder, eyes fluttering shut as you felt yourself hurtling towards that edge, so close that if you just changed the angle of your fingers a little bit, you would—

The sound of a door slamming shut made your eyes snap open, a gasp pulled from your lungs as the book tumbled from your hands to land on the bed at the same moment your other hand snapped away from your throbbing clit.

You grabbed the sheets, pulling them closer to yourself as you glanced around wildly, heart pounding in your chest at the thought of being caught.

But who would catch you?

You were very much alone, having nobody to keep you company in your little house.

Then a breeze brushed past your face, and your eyes lifted towards your bedroom window and, oh.

Oh, no.

You pushed yourself from your bed quickly, too quickly, legs tangling in the sheets and causing you to fall to your forearms.

With a groan, you detangled yourself, rising to hurry towards the window that was still very much open.

For a moment, you glanced through it, noting the open window on the second story right above your own window.

Jesus.

Had he—

Your cheeks warmed, and you slammed your window shut, grabbing the curtains to pull them over it, feeling a surge of overwhelming embarrassment as you hurried back to hide under your sheets.

Yeah, you were never leaving your house again.