#i swear half the reason i write them is simply cause no one else as so im just like GUESS I HAVE TO DO IT THEN

[mysticalsoot]

hi Connor! can i request a hurt/comfort cc!Wilbur x reader in which reader's going through a rough path of mental health? to be more specific, a lot happened and they're overwhelmed, their mind is all over the place and they need someone to assure them that they're human and not some sort of flickering ghost like they thought. it'd be nice if there's no pronoun in the writing and Wilbur holding reader hands, squeeze it to remind them that they're human :)

don't lock yourself away (request)

A/N; this took me too many months to get to you and for that, I am sorry- but here it is!! I'm trying to work more and more on my requests so hopefully this is the start of many more request posts!!

summary; reader goes through a rough patch mentally and sort of disappears and wilbur gets fed up, taking matters into his own hands and reminding reader that they aren't all what their brain says they are :)

tw// swearing, $uicidal ideation a bit, negative thoughts, depression, dissociation (some), uhh I think that's all?

words; 1.5k

pairings; cc!wilbur x gn!reader

pronouns; none, at least one use of y/n tho!!

masterlist

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Like most other people, your mental health wasn't always the most steady. You'd come and go between happy, good days and depressing, bad days. Most of the time, your depressive episodes didn't even have much of a cause. Your mental health was simply a precariously stacked pile of things with one last feather on the top, and when it would touch the tower of reasons, it'd cause it to fall over.

You weren't sure what your reason was this time. But nonetheless, whatever it was; threw you over the pier into the ocean of despair. It's been a week since you left your flat, and you stopped answering calls and texts five days ago, and now you felt as though you were rotting—but in the comfort of your sheets and pillows.

Rotting away in comfort sounded like a good way to go, your eyes slipping shut to never open again—you stopped yourself every time you thought that. It was easy to succumb to the negative and end all thoughts but you managed to stop yourself—at least this time you did.

Your phone was most definitely dead and Wilbur knew that. Every call he sent through would go straight to voicemail and every text went unanswered. He understood if you were busy, but it had been so many days since anybody heard you from. And yeah, he was on tour for half of your isolation from the world—but he still cared. He really really cared, but he didn't know what to do. What was he supposed to do?

He’d called and texted and even went to your apartment with his spare key--but it didn’t fit. And you weren’t answering your door either.

Maybe he had an old key or maybe your apartment building changed the locks while he was gone and you didn't get the chance to tell him—hypotheticals aside, he had no real idea of what had happened or what was going on. And that scared him. It terrified him, actually.

It was a fear that went deep in his bones, that maybe something had happened and no one noticed or told him and he'd never find out why. Your door wasn't working, you weren't answering his calls and texts, what else was he meant to think? He tried knocking, truly he did, but there was still no response or sounds

He tried everything but it wouldn't budge, so he resorted to resting against the door as he sat on the carpeted hall. He'd wait here as long as he needed to. And so he messaged Tommy that he wouldn't be able to do a vlog with him tomorrow and he settled in to figure out what to do. He wasn't sure if he cared about being polite, maybe he should find a way to break in, just so he can make sure you're okay—but that would probably scare you and he can't risk that, can he?

At this point, he might as well. He brings himself back to his feet and grabs a safety pin he left in his wallet—mostly just to pick the lock at his office when he locked himself in, because whatever genius engineer decided the lock of his office's doors should be on the outside also made it very difficult to keep unlocked. It was like the doors had minds of their own. It was a few moments before he heard a click and he muttered a phrase of excitement before he jingled the door open and closed it behind him when he stepped a foot into your apartment.

He gazes around for any sign of you or life in general and not much was found. Surprisingly, things were decently tidy, there weren't any dishes or chores undone—which was unusual for what he assumed to be a depressive episode but he shrugged it off and beelined for your bedroom after dropping his keys in the bowl next to the door. He's quick to shuffle the door open and his eyes almost immediately land on your curled form.

You're laying under the covers, curled up into yourself and you're silent. Wilbur steps closer to the bed and he calls out for you, "Love?" He steps closer again, "Darling?"

You mumble something incoherent and he's taken aback by how out of it you are-- how unlike yourself you are. He finds his spot next to you and lays a hand on your hip, “Y/N?”

You don’t respond, keeping to yourself, trying to still your breaths--make yourself disappear into the mattress. Maybe he won’t ask questions then, maybe he’ll go away if you don’t answer.

He pulls away his hand a whine nearly drawls itself from your throat, you liked that but you’d never admit it in this state.

“I know you're not going to answer me, so I’m going to tell you what I think and hope you're listening, okay?” He turns on his side to face you, your eyes are wide open now and he smiles a bit to himself, taking a deep breath before continuing, “I think you feel like a shell. You do this a lot, when you're upset or in a funk. I know you can’t help it, I know it's human nature to hide away within yourself and your safe spaces. I don’t blame you, my love. But I need some assurance I’m not going to lose you, okay? A simple nod now or a simple word texted to me later when you feel yourself spiraling. So I can be there for you, I want to be but you have to let me first.”

During his small speech, you found yourself curling into the fetal position, hiding your face in the covers and by your pillows. You closed your eyes and you felt that pang of guilt in your chest despite his reassuring words.

“You’re here, you’re real, and you’re loved, okay?” He nods softly to himself, lips forming a thin line as he crawls out of the bed, “I’ll be out in the living room if you need me, okay? Come talk to me when you feel like it.”

His words echoed in your mind as you heard him leave the door cracked behind him. You felt terrible for making him feel as scared as he must be, yet you still needed a minute and you hoped that was enough. You opened your eyes, carefully eyeing the crack of light through the door, feeling yourself getting heavier with sleep, your eyes drooping shut.

A few hours later and your eyes were opening and a yawn was let out as you stretched, reaching over at Wilbur’s side of the bed only to find it cold. You felt better now, for some odd reason, and as memories of a few hours prior seeped in, you knew why. Maybe isolating yourself only made you feel more alien and the thought of his words so kind and so careful was so beautifully overwhelming. It was something you weren’t sure you could ever have a full grasp upon. Someone loving you as deeply and as carefully as Wilbur does.

You didn’t take much thought as you tossed your legs over the side of the bed, pushing yourself up to stand, ignoring the ache in your muscles as you dragged yourself over to the door and being methodical with how slow you opened the door--avoiding any screeches of the hinges. And then you were careful again, taking soft steps towards the living room, and when there was no sight of Wilbur, you pattered over to the kitchen. Being fully sure you were quiet and slow as you walked up behind him, wrapping your arms around his stomach and pressing the side of your head against his back. You felt him relax under your touch, any tension or worry completely fizzling from his being.

“I feel transparent, Wil. Like a ghost wandering aimlessly through life. I don't feel real, y’know?” You hum softly against his back, pressing soft and careful kisses against his back. He turns in your grasp to face you, leaning against the counter as he uses his pointer finger to lift your chin up so your eyes meet his. Only a soft love is held in his eyes, almost a promise in the way they glisten. An unspoken promise of forever.

“You aren’t a ghost, you’re a star. Everyone looks up at your shining light and thinks of how beautiful and wonderful it is to exist at the same time as a sight like that,” He moved his hands behind his back to grasp yours. The hold was gentle as he met your eyes again, voice merely a whisper, “You’re real, you’re special, you’re important.”

He squeezed your hands with every word and you nodded gently, a playful smile forming, a gentle scoff following, “I feel compelled to believe you.”

“Well, you should,” He smiled wider, moving his hands to rest on your sides, pulling you flush against him, “Now, do me a favor and, don’t lock yourself away.”

You nod in agreement, “I won’t, I promise.”

taglist; @sleepyburs @ella-fella-bo-bella @lillylvjy

[icarus-does-fall]

The actual cod fic I've been meaning to write 💪

Aka I wrote the first paragraph like... two weeks ago, then did other things and then wrote the rest of it in two hours ^_^

Anyway it's a poly fic, Ghost, Roach and Soap- it's also fluffy as hell an super sweet

Please enjoy <3

.𝆤࿙࿙࿚๋࿙࿚ ⊱♡⊰ ࿙࿚๋࿙࿚࿚𝆤..𝆤࿙࿙࿚๋࿙࿚ ⊱♡⊰ ࿙࿚๋࿙࿚࿚𝆤.

Ghost, a cold man, un-emotional, harsh, hostile, a killer. Those that saw him walking the halls moved out of his way, people walked on eggshells around him.

Simon, a warm man, a man kept hidden from everyone except a select few. One who smiled, laughed, had a home and melted at his lovers’ touches. Simon who carried in all the groceries and demanded morning cuddles even if it made him and others late.

So how did a man as harsh as Ghost, find the people that broke past his walls, to make his two sides collide?

.𝆤࿙࿙࿚๋࿙࿚ ⊱♡⊰ ࿙࿚๋࿙࿚࿚𝆤. .𝆤࿙࿙࿚๋࿙࿚ ⊱♡⊰ ࿙࿚๋࿙࿚࿚𝆤.

“MacTavish!” Price shouted, and it was in that moment Soap knew he fucked up.

Soap wasn’t stupid by any means, he was the 141s demolitions expert, a little bit of a maths genius and he knew multiple languages. Yet he was also a child at heart and he couldn’t resist the occasional prank.

“Capt'n! Is a pleasure, whit kin I do ye fur?”

Price scowled. “Ya bloody nearly blew half of the barracks, an’ now the other half is covered in glitter- What exactly were you trying to achieve there?”

“Jist a wee bit o’fun Cap’ naethin’ too serious… Ah might've gaen a bit o’erborard but naebody ‘round here seems to ken how to lighten up- ‘cept maybe Gaz an’ Roach. Place jist needed some colour is aw Cap.”

Price's scowl deepened before he simply shook his head and sighed. “You're on clean up duty till the barracks are back to normal- Ghost is supervising you and the rest of ya muppets to make sure nothing else breaks.”

“Shite- Ghost? Why can't… uh… literally anyone else keep an eye oan us? Swear that man hates our guts, he’d raither shoot us than listen tae us talk.”

At that Price let out a gruff laugh and clapped Soap on the shoulder before sending him on his way towards the rest of the so-called detention group. “That's the exact reason, Ghost will keep ya muppets in line cause I got other stuff to take care of instead of babysittin’.”

Soap merely sighed he knew there was no getting out of the punishment that Price had set up for him and the rest of the “troublemakers” on base. He marched his way towards the barracks, as he ran into Gaz, Nikolai and Alex all marching towards their doom as well.

“How’d ye lot pish off Price tae end up wae Ghost in detention?”

Nik simply rolled his eyes as Soap joined in with the little group walking towards the barracks for clean up. “It's all your fault that we’re in this mess MacTavish.”

Soap baulked, “My fault? Whit gies ye that idea?”

“Because we were helping cover your ass- And now John is pissed at me so I’ve been kicked out of bed-”

Gaz cut in before Nik could keep talking. “I'm here cause I was stupid enough to think we wouldn’t get found out, so not really on ya, its more of uh mutual screw up but still, we could’ve done better we’re stuck with fuckin Ghost of all people now… I know he's on our team ‘n all but he scares the shit out of me sometimes.”

Alex however just rolled his eyes and continued on walking, while he loved his team and the occasional chaos they all could get up to, he knew the punishment they were facing was all their faults in the same faction or another and there wasn't any true reason to argue (or blame) it all on Soap. No matter how much Nikolai wanted to simply cause Price kicked the poor guy out of bed.

Soap tsked and walked ahead of the group, slinging his arm around Gazs shoulders with a grin. “You lot worry tae much, surely a wee Ghosty can't be tae harsh.”

The rest of them exchanged glances and laughed at how optimistic Soap was, for an intelligent guy, sometimes he was kinda stupid. But of course that's what made him ever so loveable, by the lads and the ladies.

Not long after their short chat in the hall they made it to the barracks and there was Ghost, standing at the entrance clad in his uniform and mask. The group immediately sobered up and waited for Ghost to speak. He didn't. He merely grunted with a nod and made sure each of the four walked into the barracks. “Price put in charge. You lot are gonna clean, and there won't be any games- Get to it.”

The four grumbled up, picked up the brooms and dustpans that had been laid out and began to clean. Ghost leaned against a nearby wall and supervised the clean up. Soap would make an odd joke here or there causing Gaz or Alex to throw something in his direction leading Ghost to bark orders in their direction to knock it off- For the most part Nikolai kept his head down and did what he was told, merely grumbling about how it was unfair and was a rookies job, not for him.

And the four cleaned until well past dusk, other soldiers on the base working their way around them to make their way towards their beds, all casting pitiful glances in their directions as the rest of base headed off to bed. At one point even Price stopped by to collect Nik, leaving just three left to keep cleaning.

“Aye Ghost, keep them muppets on task till this place is spotless- but I am taking Nik back, beds getting lonely. Kicked ‘em out for nearly a week now.”

Ghost nodded at the order. If nothing else the man was loyal and followed orders like a well trained dog- Which Soap of course made a comment on.

“Like a dog aren't ye Ghost? Trained for on an’ aff the field are ye?”

Ghost scowled underneath his mask and in a low grumble, one that spent shivers down people's spines as he spoke. “You think you're any better ‘cause ya make noise? You're just as much of a bloody dog as I am MacTavish, so quit your yapping ‘for we muzzle ya.”

Soap flushed and chuckled nervously as he for once did as he was told and stopped talking. He went back to cleaning and Gaz and Alex exchanged semi-nervous glances, it was suddenly very tense and heated where they all stood.

At least it was until Gaz spoke up. “Sooo- If we muzzle Soap that mean he gets a leash too? Cause the pet store has these ones with bells on ‘em, got one for my cat cause I kept losing her in all the pillows back home.”

Alex laughed and shook his head, “Nah mate Soap looks more like the type of guy to wear the muzzle and still keep growling… Unless of course he’s secretly into that sort of that thing~”

Soap huffed and with his cheeks still a slight red threw his arms over the twos shoulders, turning his growl into a cheeky grin and playful wink. “Ye ken ye just have tae dae is ask if ye wanna find oot whit kinda beastie I am in bed~”

Gaz scowled playfully and lightly shoved Soap off of him with a laugh. “Yeah right, my girl would have my ass if I took you to bed Soap and we both know it- My ass and your dick would be hanging on her wall for trying to mess with her.”

Soap grinned and then poked Alex in the cheek. “Sooo whit’s that saying aboot ye then?”

Alex shook his head as he chuckled and rolled his eyes. “Yaknow for being so smart, you're a terrible flirt sometimes Soap, honestly I’ve heard my abuela do better than that and she's almost 95.”

Soap pouted and his eyes flickered towards Ghost before he laughed and shook his head, sure he was goofing off but he wasn't going to try and test his luck that much- Not while the mans already pissed off at them all anyway. He knew Ghost could have a laugh every once and a while but it was a hard achievement to get.

.𝆤࿙࿙࿚๋࿙࿚ ⊱♡⊰ ࿙࿚๋࿙࿚࿚𝆤. .𝆤࿙࿙࿚๋࿙࿚ ⊱♡⊰ ࿙࿚๋࿙࿚࿚𝆤.

It was nearly 4 in the morning by the time the four- turned tree of them finished cleaning while under the supervision of Ghost who stood as still a stone the entire time. A couple times it was brought into question if he was still awake, or was blinking. In which he scared them with a response and coincidentally shut them up at the same time.

Once they were allowed to depart they were nearly sleep deprived for all the cleaning. Staying up 48, even 72 hours for a mission was no problem but to make them clean and they were whipped out after just a few hours of work.

Gaz and Alex went to bed almost immediately, but Soap in his sleepy and ever intelligent state decided to be a menace to Ghost just a bit longer. So as Ghost was turning to walk away Soap caught up with him and swung his arm over his shoulder with a cheeky grin. “Aye Ghosty! Ye never answered the question of seein’ me in bed ye ken.”

Ghost scowled slightly and shoved Soap off of him with a growl. “Because it was a stupid question. How can you be so smart and yet so bloody stupid all at once?”

Soap rolled his eyes as he kept pace with Ghost and huffed slightly. “Not stupid, just know how to have fun unlike some people around here- I might need a muzzle but I’m not kept on a leash like you are.”

Ghost stopped walking. Dead in the middle of the hallway he stopped walking and turned to Soap with a glare, it was a dangerous and deadly look. “On a leash? What, want me to prove I think for myself?”

Soaps grin came back in a flash and he laughed, “obviously.”

It was almost sunrise, but for now the base was quiet, it was just the two of them in the halls and so Ghost did something unexpected. He pinned Soap up against a nearby wall, one hand on his waist and the other tugging up his mask just slightly so it sat on the bridge of his nose before his lips crashed down onto Soaps leaving him in shock as a slight gasp and whine slipped past his lips.

The kiss only lasted for a moment, less than a second even before he pulled away and tugged his mask back down but not before Soap caught a glance of a grin playing on Ghost's lips. “How’s that for thinkin’ for myself eh Johnny?”

And then he began to walk away.

Soap was left agape and blushing redder than a firetruck when Ghost walked away from him. “Bloody hell- Naeb’dys luck that that just happened right? Fuck meh.”

Ghost grinned from underneath his mask, the crinkle by his eyes gave that away as he looked over his shoulder and back towards Soap for a moment. “Ask nicely and I might.” And with that Ghost turned the corner and disappeared from Soap's sight, leaving the Scotsman more flustered than he was to begin with.

So of course once Soap was able to calm down and gather his thoughts he rushed into the nearest room- He simply needed someone to tell all of this to and at this point he didn't care who it was.

It was Roaches room that he ended up barging into at dark thirty in the morning, not that Soap cared what time it was anymore either. He was wide awake now and there wasn’t any chance that he was going to go to bed any time soon either.

Soaps accept was thicker than it had ever been as he took a spot on Roches bed and shook him awake. “Roach- Roach mate- Mo ghràidh!! gie yirsel a shake, bloody hell! I need somebody tae gab wi here mate, ah might juist explode otherwise! Come oan, please.”

Groggily Roach woke up after Soap shook him awake. His voice raspy and hair all a mess from just having been woken up as well. The sight caused another blush to rise to Soap's face but he quickly pushed it aside. “Fuckin hell man, what is it? People are still trying to sleep, not getting caught up in your schemes.”

Soap pouted and rolled his eyes. “Nae, nae that, nae schemes either- The lieutenant, thon wee bawbag kissed meh!”

At that Roach was sitting up in bed and seemed a lot more interested in what Soap was saying. “Wait- wait… You're talking crazy Johnny, I can barely understand ya mate… You're saying Ghost kissed ya?”

“Aye!!”

Roach chuckled, and shook his head as the sleep began to leave his body. “Well I’ll be damned- Is he any good?”

Soap openly blushed at that, which Roach noticed. “Aww the mighty MacTavish is blushing~ You like him then huh?”

“Oh shut ii Roach! I’m being serious here, the man kissed me! I didn't know he could do that-”

“What kiss people? He might be a killin’ machine but he’s still human, he’s still a guy.”

“Bloody hell, Gary! That's not the ficken point, I'm in crisis over here and you're having a laugh about it.”

“Course I am, you freaked out like this when I kissed ya drunk on new years- You're a decent kisser Johnny, expect the guy to come round for another one.”

Soap once again flushed red and then playfully pushed Roach away with a light glare and a huff. “You're an arse sometimes Roach, hope ye ken that.”

“Course I know that, I gotta be if i wanna be friends with you.”

Soap raised a teasing and mischievous eyebrow as he spoke next. “With all we do an’ we’re only friends? Here I thought we had something more going on than that~”

This time it was Roaches turn to blush, “Oh shut up! We can be friends and still something more at the same time- Now go chase after that lieutenant for us ye hear me?~ Somebody has to make the guy loosen up a bit and who better and a loose cannon and his boyfriend.”

A loud chuckle burst out of Soap's chest as he stole a quick kiss from Roach before moving to walk out of the room. “Aye sounds like the perfect plan.”

Yet as Soap moved to leave Roach pulled him back into his bed and it was obvious the two weren't going anywhere for quite awhile.

.𝆤࿙࿙࿚๋࿙࿚ ⊱♡⊰ ࿙࿚๋࿙࿚࿚𝆤. .𝆤࿙࿙࿚๋࿙࿚ ⊱♡⊰ ࿙࿚๋࿙࿚࿚𝆤.

While Soap was having his time with Roach, Ghost on the other hand was having a slight breakdown. He kissed someone- Furthermore he kissed a guy, and not just any guy, a guy with a known boyfriend. Man did he have problems.

Yes, it was also known around base that Soap and Roach weren't in a closed relationship and Ghost never thought he was that type of guy. But damn him and damn Soap, the lad was a good kisser.

With a sigh he collapsed onto his bed, throwing his mask off onto his bedside table and tried for at least a few minutes of shuteye before it was time to be back on duty and training the rookies. Until it was time to be Ghost again. That short exchange in the hall with Soap was the most relaxed he’d been in months since his last leave and he was almost aching for it again.

Before he knew it though the sun was rising and it was time to be awake, it felt like he barely got any sleep as he dragged himself out of bed and pulled his mask back on before heading into the mess hall. He found a spot tucked away into a corner by himself with just a simple cuppa coffee before Johnny bound into the mess hall with his usual grin, his neck covered in illy hidden hickies.

The sight caused an unusual heat to rise to Ghosts face which caused him to scowl and tuck away further into his corner, he couldn’t decide if he wanted to punch something or drag Soap down by his collar and make him go dumb around him like he'd done with a few of his one night stands.

With a low growl he sipped on his coffee and sighed, he was at war with himself and didn't want to do anything to fix it.- Well that's not entirely true, he wanted to fix it, he just wasn't entirely sure how to, or even if the how was possible.

Yey of course as the fates would have it, Soap noticed him tucked away in his corner of solitude. So Soap and his ever boyish attitude he made his way over to Ghost and took the seat across from him, grinning mischievously and propped his head onto his hands, his elbows resting on the table. “Hey there lover boy”

Ghost blue screened for a moment and nearly choked on his coffee mid sip causing Soap to burst out into laughter.. “I- what??”

“Naethin but a joke, just thought it’d be fun to see your reaction after that stunt ye played earlier.”

Ghost blinked. And then blinked again before trying to focus his attention back onto his coffee. “I was out of line for that- Shouldn't have done it, was just tryin’ to prove a point, more than a dog on a leash an’ all.”

Soap merely shrugged, unbothered by Ghost's dismissal. “Ye got naethin tae worry aboot, been tryin to egg ye on fur ages now an’ Roach dinnae mind any about it no aen, lad was all jokes aboot it when I was freaking out this mornin’, want to compare note an’ what nae.”

A slight blush rose to Ghost face no matter how hard he tried to fight it as he simply stared at Soap, words almost failing to form. “You- Roach wanted to do what? Wait… You talked about me kissin ya? Didn’t think it was that big of a deal, wasn’t even my best work.”

Soap chuckled and shook his head slightly, “Nae naethin like that- Well, kinda actually… ye terrifying and if ye didnt already know it everybody thinks ye attractive juist naebody has the balls to make a move on ye.”

Ghost sat there mouth agape, and his blush darkened to the point it was finally noticeable and before he could respond Soap spoke up once more. “Meh and Roach are havin a movie night tonight, naething serious, just a bit o’fun, time to relax an’ all- ye mair than welcome to join us”

Ghost paused and swirled his coffee around in his mug for a moment or so, the two simply sat in silence for a couple minutes as Ghost thought before he spoke up. “What movie did you two pick?”

Soap grinned, “The Princess Bride, it's a timeless classic that ye cannae go wrong with- Got a projector fur the room an’ everything.”

Ghost nodded, placing down a now empty mug and then nugging down his mask once again. “We’ll see about it.” And with that he stood and quickly vanished from view, being the ghost he was known to be.

Soap rolled his eyes at the dramatics but he was giddy at the thought of Ghost possibly, maybe, showing up for movie night. He knew there was a slim chance that something would actually happen between him, Ghost and Roach but there was always that one percent of possibility and that's what Soap decided to focus on. He loved Roach but damn was Ghost enthralling.

.𝆤࿙࿙࿚๋࿙࿚ ⊱♡⊰ ࿙࿚๋࿙࿚࿚𝆤. .𝆤࿙࿙࿚๋࿙࿚ ⊱♡⊰ ࿙࿚๋࿙࿚࿚𝆤.

The hours passed and the day went by as usual, Ghost was outside working the recruits half to death, terrorising another generation of soldiers. Soap wasn’t being a menace for once, he was working with Price on the logistics of certain types of explosions and trying to explain the maths of how each of them worked. And Roach, Roach was tucked away somewhere doing who knows what but at least everyone was staying out of trouble.

As the sun began to set on the day Soap ended up back in Roaches bed, tucked into his side (so sue the man if he liked being the little spoon on occasion) and the movie played on the wall. About 30 minutes or 45, neither were sure there was a slight knock on the door.

“Doors open!”

There was a pause, it seemed like a moment of hesitation but then the door opened and there stood Ghost. Instead of being dressed in his usual tactical gear he was wearing a black hoodie and a matching pair of sweatpants. Even his mask was more casual, this one only covered about half his face, showing off his hair- which was a dirty blonde and messier than you'd think possible.

“I’m still invited, yeah? Not too late am I? Couldn’t decide if I should show up or not-”

“Aye! Of course Ghosty! Plenty of room in the bed, come on in.”

Roach laughed softly at his boyfriend's excitement yet shifted slightly to accommodate for another person joining in their not so large bed. Ghost ended up nestled in between the two, Soaps legs were draped over his and Roach was nestled into the crook of his arm. It was… warm, comfortable even and the movie held a nice ambiance to the background.

The movie played and the three laid there cuddled together, a few teases and jabs here and there were exchanged but overall everything was peaceful and Ghost felt context for the first time in a very long time. As the credits began to roll Roach was falling asleep on Ghost, and Ghost had found himself absentmindedly playing with Soaps hair- No one dared mention that in case he’d stop upon being called out for being soft.

“Simon”

The other two looked up at Ghost as he spoke, the rumble of his chest when he talked rosing Roach enough to light a confused spark in their eyes. “Huh?”

“My name- It’s Simon… Don't use it too much though- Or in front of the rest of the team, but my name's Simon.”

Soap grinned, and Roach simply nestled back into Ghost's side but that didn't mean he didn't kiss Ghost's cheek first. “Pleasure tae meet ye then Simon~”

[dingdongitsbees]

OKAY SO HERES MY THING RIGHT;

- for the remarried empress style fic i needed someone to be the shitty husband/ king who has a concubine who he falls in love with, yn would be the person he was in the arranged marriage with/ queen (she gets a love interest too: which i was thinking someone like sakusa, but heinley is so sweet and sunshiney he doesn’t give off sakusa vibes he gives off noya and kind of atsumu vibes)

- and for the apocalypse au, originally i was thinking osamu because i wanted to incorporate kita’s farm and the cliche “farms are safer” idea, but idk you mentioned mattsun and now i kinda wanna implement seijoh 4 into it GSISBSKN

- 👎anon

i mean if you need shitty, terushima and atsumu are always there ✋💀 but that might not be the type of shitty you're looking for, like someone who could be very unaffectionate and harsh could be someone like ushijima or someone (hate to roast em like this but) tsukishima and kageyama, or even someone like daishou who can favour one of his other concubines/wives (mika)

or this cutie 🥰🥵

but i swear hq fics can be so hard when you need a villian esc character cause they're all sweet or likeable in way or another at the end of the day 😭 and you don't necessarily have to be exact with character equivalents in aus even tho to be fair it makes it a lot easier, and you can always make sakusa soft and blushy if need be 🥰 and then have him just be a dick to everyone else lmao 💀

but yes farm settings work really well for zombie aus! and i can never say no to osamu 😌 but seijoh four always got me feeling some kind of way 🥵

also i can't wait to read anything you write! you must tell me the instant you do 😤 i'll even beta read if you need me to i am HERE

[beoneofus]

𝙨𝙝𝙪𝙩 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙝𝙚𝙡𝙡 𝙪𝙥, 𝙢𝙖𝙧𝙠𝙤

fandom: the lost boys

marko x g/n reader x david

length: short

warnings: light swearing, small mention of anxiety

a/n: requested by @oceansrose2002 my beloved friend, mwah <3. I kept this short to test it out - I may write a longer imagine if this turns out decent. I hope all enjoy. :)

/ unedited, 4.19.22 /

no on had ever thought that sharing would be a thing amongst the weird, scary, dominant four-person-group of bikers that practically ran santa carla's boardwalk. they seemed, just by looking at them for simply five seconds, like the type of guys that were possessive over shit that was theirs; very not willingly to share even a smidge of a piece of cotton candy with anybody, because keeping what was theirs out of anyone else's reach was just in their veins. so, when the two most dangerous male's of the group took an extreme liking to one of the newest people on the boardwalk one night, it was quite the surprise to see them both glued by the person's side within a small period of three months.

“ do you two ever behave? ” y/n asked one faithful night, two weeks after the three of them had began dating; chin perched onto the heel of their palm as their eyes went back and forth between both of the blondes that sat across from them. david, the eldest, who sported a bleach blonde mullet that was pretty short yet fit him perfectly, stopped pestering marko as he heard the question rise from his lover's lips. his icy blue colored eyes drifted over to them, as a amused smirk lifted onto his lips; amusement clouding his gaze. “ no, doll - not necessarily. ”

although the nickname david acquainted them with was rather irritating at th start, they had gotten used to it over time; actually seeming to melt like snow on a hot day, whenever the word left his mouth. “ I do, ” marko, y/n's other partner, who had a long and noodle-y curled dirty blonde mullet, spoke up beside the other male; glaring half-heartedly at the leader as he knocked the other's lingering hand away from his mess of hair. “ so don't rope me in with you, jackass. ”

a small pitch of laughter threatened to spill through, but y/n held it back; settling to roll their (dark/light/medium) specs instead. “ will you guys stop? people are starting to stare. ” as they said that, a rather judgey couple walked past, staring the three down while both david and marko intensely looked back at them. marko even decided to grin wickedly and mockingly wave, just to get a rise out of the snobby looking guy holding the innocent looking gal's, hand.

“ so what if they stare, ” david finally replied, turning his attention back onto his favored person, eyes holding slight seriousness to them. “ let them - its not hurting us. it's only making them look like nosey bastards. ”

he was right, they knew that. but they didn't exactly love attention. while marko loved being able to catch the eyes of others with his cat-like smile and mischief filled stunts, and david enjoyed making people nearly piss themselves just by his presence alone, y/n hated grabbing others' judgement. they felt pressured to do something fascinating, or even felt as if their looks weren't good enough for the public. it was bothersome, a trait they hated, but they couldn't help it. david knew that though, which is why he constantly tried to pull his partner out of their particular zone of comfort; to help them.

maybe it did make them uncomfortable and sometimes scared, but david thought of it as a way of helping y/n overcome their anxieties. even if it did involve over stepping boundaries.

“ I wouldn't worry about these cheese heads, babe. ” marko snapped them out of their intrusive thoughts, causing them to look away from the bleach-blonde's continuous gaze. “ they're just looking for a reason to get involved in our business. ” the hazel-eyed maniac grinned at them, before sliding a cheese fry in his mouth; chewing down instantly. “ after all, we're all anyone's ever talking about. so don't sweat it; they're mad they can't be with us like your sexy ass can, and is. ”

swallowing softly, they hesitantly nodded, still rather skeptical about the whole ordeal. both david and marko noticed it, but said nothing. they could discuss the matter later - for now, marko wanted y/n to have fun, and david had his mind set on having a semi-romantic night; just the three of them.

“ come on, ” marko stood up from his place at the wooden picnic table the three of them sat at, only to exit his place and walk over to the nearest trash can. after dumping the remaining fries into the garbage, he returned; the smirk on his face sly looking while green-ish orbs screamed havoc. “ the night's still young, beautiful darling of mine; we should make the most of it. ”

y/n narrowed their eyes playfully at the trouble maker of a blonde. “ you wanna piss of the security again, don't you? ”

david, quietly, switched his gaze off between the two individuals; a slight grin of his own lingering on freshly cigarette tasting lips. “ maybe, ” marko spoke, while offering his leader a small glance. “ but you'll never find out if you don't get your ass up off of that bench. ”

questioning eyes shifted to david, but all the cocky vampire did was shrug; leaving their answer a mystery for the next minute.

“ alright.. ” they mumbled, finally, before sighing and throwing a lazy leg over the side of the bench. “ but if we get thrown off the boardwalk again, I'm shoving your face into the sand. ”

just as marko said ‘ deal ’, david got up from his seat; pocketing a hand into his tuxedo-themed jacket, while the other wrapped around the shoulders of his now standing, partner. “ let's go. I don't want to be around our food any longer than I have to. ”

“ alright, alright! but question. should we pour sand down that annoying security guard's pants after we drench him in water, or vise versa? ”

“ marko, shut the hell up and walk. ”

[tommyspeakycap]

Hi love, I adore your writing so much! And as you just asked for some ideas/concepts here’s mine for Jack Grealish from prompts list 2: fluff #11 where he’s asking her (she’s his best friend) to go for a walk cause there’s so much going on in his life and he just needs to talk. fluff #36, angst #31 and a happy ending please? Basically a Best friends to lovers thing as I’m a sap for that…thank you!! xx

Fluff #11; “I know it’s 2 in the morning but do you want to…”

Fluff #36; “because I fell for you, isn’t it obvious?”

hope I did this justice for you!

Fell for you

“Jesus god,” you grumbled with hands aimlessly palming across the mattress for the blaring sound of your phone from its place charging somewhere on the bed. Your next move is an elongated “Ahhhhh,” sound, fatigue still holding tightly onto your body in a way that seals your eyes shut even as you try to shut off the sound your phone was deafening your with. In a wakened state, you might’ve noticed that it was your ringtone that had interrupted your sleep. However as tired as you were you ruled it as your alarm right away and moved yourself into seated position with the duvet still wrapped tight around you and your eyes still shut.

You were suspended in that space between being asleep and being awake, still sitting up when the offensive sound came screaming through your phone once again.

This time, your eyes snapped open in fright and the fatigue-blurred letters of Jack Grealish’s name popped up across the top of your screen.

“How is it morning already?” You protest down the line, a heavy sigh passing your lips to follow. Jack’s chuckle can be heard through the line, “It’s not.” He replies simply, prompting you to pull your phone away from your ear to hold out in front if your face.

02:17am

“Then why on earth am I up?” You mumble, a question more posed to yourself than the man on the other end. “Wait, why are you up? And why are you calling so early?”

“I’m outside your door.”

“You’re what?!” You throw back your duvet and swing your legs over the side of the bed. You’ve hung up the phone already by the time you reach the front door at a tired shuffle. His hair is tousled when you see him, like he’s been running his hands through it over and over, you imagine that he has. He does that when he’s stressed. You have to squint against the street lights and his car headlights outside, still on as it sits running on the street. “Can we go somewhere?” He asks, his voice as desperate as his eyes look when he speaks, begging you to agree. Not that he would need to beg. You’d do anything for that man. Even if it did mean dragging yourself from your bed at 2 in the morning.

“Course.”

No question, no pressure. He loves that from you. He knows you’ll ask him later and when the time is right you’ll force him to tell you of course. Now is not that time yet and you’re nowhere near awake enough to do so much anyway. “Let me just grab my-“

“I have a hoodie in the car and your shoes in my boot.” He cuts in, tugging your arm gently out the door of your house. He knows you better than any other person in this world, so he knows full and well that there’s not much you are going to do in the way of protesting when you’re so soon out of sleep. He’d often teased with layers of worry deeper beneath that he genuinely worried for you living on your own. You open the door to people far too easily, and he will not fail to bring that up sometime tomorrow. For now, he steps into your doorway where you had stood moments before, grabs your keys from the cabinet and pulls the door closed behind him with a click of the latch locking behind him.

The cold paving stones beneath your feet make you shine in protest, shifting your weight between each one to ease the chill. In was in that cold that you look down and make the realisation, or rather come to remember the fact that you don’t have any pyjama bottoms on. “Jack!” You yelp, “I’m not wearing trousers!” You suddenly feel very exposed and rightly so, standing outside your home suddenly very awake in only a long claret and blue shirt that only extended down to the middle of your thighs. “Eh?” He whips around, “You what?”

It’s only now he really takes you in with rosy cheeks from embarrassment, your hair messed up from your sleep. His frantic eyes soften and his heart stops thundering in his chest finally. The sight of you there calms him. You’re there. Right there. His (y/n) is right there in front of him.

“What’s the rush, Jack? Is everything okay?”

Your gentle words and tired eyes bring him back to the ground, the flurry of his racing thoughts only now finally calmed. He often acts on impulse, but you are always able to slow his brain down a few paces. His sits heavily, "I know it's two am but...do you think we could go somewhere. My heads fuckin'... I don't even know." He dips back down to run that hand through his hair once again. His words stoke a bit of a worry in you, head tilted to the side in question. Jack doesn't tend to be the kind who gets himself panicked and all wound up like he has right now. That's more your half of the friendship. You did the worrying, he did the easygoing.

"It's okay, Jack. Of course. Come on then, let's go." You nod your head and he goes around the back of the car to get the shoes and socks he promised you. You very nearly choked up a lung when he presented you with a brand new Balenciaga box. "What the fuck, Jack?" You all but wheeze out, head whipping towards him climbing into the passenger seat.

"Got you a present 'cause I'm leaving soon." He shrugs with a jaw-dropping ease. You list open the lid and inside sit a pair of sliders that cost nearly £400. You physically gawp. "Oh my god."

"What?" Jack asks, drawing out of his parking spot on the street, "Heard you telling your mum you needed new sliders for the summer, do you not like 'em?"

His nerves would be clear in his voice if you hadn't been in such a ferocious level of shock. You're glad you weren't eating anything because it surely would have choked you to death. Of course you had seen Jack wearing brands like Balenciaga, Gucci, Versace and the likes, but you had never owned such an expensive piece of clothing. "I mean of course I love them, J but I meant from Primark or bloody amazon, you shouldn't have spent al that money on me." You protested, but Jack really pays it no mind. In fact, the suggestion that you don't deserve everything luxurious that this world has to offer offends him more than it does anything else. You should know that you deserve everything good that this world can give and he has the means to actually give that to you. He'd count himself an absolute fool not to.

"Gonna pretend you didn't say that." He mutters, eyes kept carefully on the empty road ahead of his car. Your eyebrows are furrowed, a part of you brain still very much trying to a) wake up and b) process the expensive of the gift he handed to you so casually. "Not arguing about it either." His voice cuts you off the second you open your mouth to speak, shutting down your protest before it even leaves you.

As the fatigue of your sleep wears off, your mind continues to be just as boggled as it had been the moment his name popped up on your screen at 2am, if not more boggled now.

"You're acting so weird, Jack. What the hell is going on with you today?" Your insistence is careful with your pressure. It's enough to try to open him up but not enough to make it sound like a confrontation. Neither you nor Jack like confrontation especially with each other. The words make him chew on his lip as he careens the large white range rover through a turn that leads up a gravel road that crunches beneath his tires. The stops when he's met with a with a large gate that prevents cars but a little slot for people to walk through. Jack leaves his door open when he leaves the car with a curtly mumbled "Stay here" as he does. He pushes open the gate with ease before he gets back in the car and follows the path up the hill further.

He stop abruptly in a very small gravel car park without any parking lines to abide and steps out, slamming his door behind him like he absolutely always does; you swear that man couldn't be quiet if his life depended on it. Which was another reason why you were so surprised by his silence. You clamber out after him with that same fear of falling flat on your face that always fills your mind each and every time you leave his car. But Jack is where he has been every time you step out the Range Rover since the first day he got it; standing by your door to hold your hand so you can jump out without a trip onto the gravel beneath. He shuts the door behind you and hands you a spare pair of his loose fitting track pants.

On an average day you might've teased the reason he hasn't worn them was because they wouldn't have squeezed the life out his legs. Today wasn't one of those days, so you slip them on without a word. Followed up by his way too big for you socks and the brand new black slides. Even wide awake, this confuses you to no end. Jack was never quiet and never elusive. He was boisterous, loud, open and confident.

The second you turn around, you realise why he brought you here.

The view of the stars, the sky completely clear. There wasn't a street lamp in sight. The moon provided the kind of spotlight hue that you kind of thought only existed in the enhancement of Hollywood movies. "Woah," you breathe, words stolen by its beauty.

"Yeah," Jack laughs, "Now you know how I feel every time I look at you."

You head turns to him so fast it sends your head spinning a little, or maybe that's just the shock of his words. You couldn't tell.

"What?"

He shrugs his shoulders, scuffing his feet along the gravel to meet up with where you stand. But he freezes before he gets the chance.

"Why are you wearing that?" He asks, a very sudden cold change in his tone that actually makes your body feel colder. "Wearing what? This?" You gesture to the claret and blue shirt you had thrown on in a haste to get to him standing at your front door a short while ago. You turn to see his unhappy scowl and the firm discontented cross of his strong arms. "Yeah that," he grumbles, "And where'd you even get it." He adds with a flare of his nostrils. He looks adorable angry like this, like he's trying so hard to look angry when his emotions lie truly elsewhere.

You look down at the shirt with furrowed brows, before you shift your shoulder forward, crane your neck and pull the material around to view the back as best you could. "What's wrong with it?" You ask finally, attempts to defy the natural state of your body failing to allow you to see your back.

"It's Ginny's." Jack states as if its the most obvious thing in the world. You just look at him bewildered. "And?"

He huffs as he takes a few more heavy steps up to you, looking like he had a lot of things to say without any way of being able to get them to coordinate from his brain to his lips. "Why do you have Ginny's shirt though?"

You breathe a little bit of laughter at him, shaking your head softly. "it was just a joke. I saw him after a match waiting for you so I jumped out at him and pretended to be a fan for a video and he signed it and gave to me as a joke. I just threw it on when you showed up at my door in the middle of the night. Wasn't exactly a fashion statement."

Jack still grunts in dissatisfaction at your answer, refusing to meet your eyes. "You have plenty of mine to wear though, don't need his." His argues in a disgruntled grumble. You raise and drop your arms down by your side with a sigh. He was really testing your patience now. "Hm, last time I checked you couldn't give me yours anymore because your ex didn't like it." You protest with a wag of your finger, making him turn his head downwards with something like a shudder running through him at the mention of her name. "Yeah well there's a reason she's my ex innit." He mutters under his breath.

"What the hell is the problem with you today Jack?" You exclaim, his eyes jolting to you in surprise. You don't often snap.

"First you show up at my door in the middle of the night and drag me out of my house and then you won't actually speak to me and now you're picking a fight about John M fucking Ginn?" You snap, the anger and confusion he had stirred up showing in your emphatic hand gestures that only come out when you're telling him a passionate story or going off your head at him. "He's your best mate, why would that even bother you?!"

"I'm sorry, I-"

"I'm not done, Jack!" You yell, holding out a hand. "You haven't even spoken to me all week. I found out you made the England call up on fucking twitter Jack, twitter! And your mum told me about you dumping your girl and I can't even get through to you and now you're buying me gifts and bringing me here? I don't know if I'm coming or going here Jack, you have to give me something. We're meant to be friends." You voice breaks on the last syllable and a lump forms in Jack's throat that he can't just swallow away. Any pain, any hurt and any slight sadness of emotion that appears in you shatters his heart. He thought that was a normal reaction until two weeks ago when he realised it only happens to him when its your upset he witnesses.

"I'm sorry." He says, his voice thick and wavering with the same level of emotion. "I really, really am." He stands right in front of you now, so close you're basically chest to chest, faces merely inches apart.

"And I'm scared." He admits, sending a pang through your already aching heart. "Scared because I'm leaving and I can't take you with me." His words tickle your lips as they leave his, clouds of air puffing above the two of you as his hot breath meets the cold night air. "You've done it before, J. It'll be fine." You soothe, hands gently raising to reach up and brush the hair out of his face. His let's forth a content sigh of relief at the feeling of your touch. "That was before though." He confesses with a slight shrug. He watches that furrow sow itself back into your brows.

"Before what?"

"Dance with me?" He suggests, his arms finding their way around you with ease, much less fumbley than you remember from your high school prom. Your head tilts in that adorable confused way that makes a grin form on his cold lips.

"Why?" You query, eyes slightly narrowed in suspicion. He laughs softly. "Because the music is slow and the sky is gorgeous and because I love you."

Before you get the chance to recognise, process or even understand what he said, he's swaying you around the gravel under the stars.

"Because you what?" You squeak, your eyes desperately searching his as you look for any reason this might be some kind of a joke or one of pranks that makes you want to throttle him. He just smiles at you with those crinkled eyes and the love shining right there in his eyes for you to see. Your stomach flutters like the teenager you were when you fell in love with him. His lips dip down to capture yours in the best kiss that your being has ever felt, his hands ringing your hair, stroking down over your cheeks with those warm hands of his.

"Because I've fell for you, isn't it obvious?"

[stray-kids-react]

Same birthday as them

Masterlist

...

Bang Chan

° Is the type to reschedule his own birthday so it could just be your day, but you will refuse his kind suggestions because you'd feel awful if you made it look like his birthday was just brushed aside like it's nothing.

° Let's you blow out the candles on the cake, smiling at you like a lovesick puppy which always makes Minho do obnoxious gagging noises as the other members join him and laugh. But Chan gets revenge on them, with frosting attacks.

° Gives the price with the candle in it, and will scoop up dollops of icing onto your piece of cake if you like frosting. And if you aren't a fan of frosting then he will steal the large amounts on your piece and put on his own piece.

° Always.. And I mean ALWAYS. Writes you birthday cards that make you cry, because he uses such kind words and makes you feel very special. Hyunjin will awkwardly pat your head as Felix clings to you like a koala.

"What words do you out in the letters to make her/him cry?" Hyunjin asked.

"Just the truth from my heart."

"Hyung she's/he's crying even harder now." Felix whispered, grabbing napkins.

Lee Know

° It always ends up going the complete opposite way you guys planned on spending your shared birthday. You both planned on going to a hotel to spend a few days away from everyone and everything, and now you were Camping with skz.

° Let's you open your presents first, secretly eager for you to open the one he bought you. And will laugh in the member's faces, bragging about how he always buys the best gifts for you. He says it's because you share one brain.

° Tries to play the birthday boy card with you, saying 'baby since it's my birthday can you get a drink?' and you always remind him that it's your birthday too so you shouldn't have to do favors on your birthday unless you want to.

° Will poke frosting onto your lips before kissing it away, making all of the members react in disgust and cringe. Even though you both know they are happy you two are together, but they are still like family and will tease both of you.

"Get a room." Seungmin whined.

"It's our birthday, every room is our room."

"Felix get the water guns." Changbin ordered, preparing for battle.

Changbin (our birthday boi! ❤️🎂)

° Very clingy, even though it's your birthday as well he will want to be babied as much as he can get. He'll baby you to return the favor, but please just cuddle him all day to make his birthday wishes come to life.

° Takes you out to a restaurant with no members, just the two of you dining together. He will insist on wearing party hats to the very fancy restaurant, getting weird looks from the posh and frugal diners that surround you.

° Even though he is sited earlier on being babied, whenever you suggest that you can help pay for the meal he always denies it and pays fully. And when whine asking why he's spoiling you, he explains that it's your birthday, you deserve it.

° Will rent out a hotel room on the top floor, taking a few selfies with you to post on instagram, captioning a long rant about how he feels so special to have met such a wonderful person who shares his birthday.

"You don't have to pay Binnie, we can go half-"

"I insist, it's your birthday you deserve it."

"But it's your birthday too."

Hyunjin

° He shows you off 10× harder than he usually does, you simply did his hair in the morning cause you wanted to. And she showed it off to all of the members, staff, and fans who were watching the stray kids daily vlogs.

° The members will purposely celebrate you more for the first half of the day, just to annoy Hyunjin. But they always soften up and congratulate him too, making him go back to his usual confident prince aura.

° Wants kisses 24/7, and will become pouty if you deny any of them. Always whining, saying that it's his birthday wish to kiss you. That sentence alone always makes you cave in and kiss his adorable pout away.

° Will read your letters for you while you open the gifts, when it comes time to open his gifts you will return the favor and read the letters. Once he reaches your gift, without even opening it he will say it's his favorite gift out of them all.

"Now for the best gift of the night."

"But you haven't even opened it yet."

"I just know it is the best."

Han

° Wakes you up with a birthday song, forcing his members to sing it with him and dance to it. The only ones who truly get into the song are Chanbin and Felix. You were a bit surprised to see all eight guys surrounding your bed.

° Will set a cute date in the JYP café, sharing your favorite pastry and his favorite pastry with each other. You two hoped to be left alone, but some fans decided to visit the café and give Han this huge cake while ignoring you.

° After Jisung began to notice more fans surrounding the building, he decided to take you back to the dorms where you could finish your pastries and drinks there. Even though it wasn't as 'romantic' it was still nice and calming.

° You both just have a relaxing time together alone, watching you favorite movies and ordering your favorite foods and drinks. Only going to socialize with everyone else when Chan calls for both of you to open the gifts.

"Happy birthday Han oppa, we love you more than anyone else in the world."

"Oh, thank you so much. Umm we actually should get going."

"OMG IS THAT HAN JISUNG OVER THERE?!"

Felix

° You tell Felix every year to not just focus on you, but he truly just can't help himself. Which is why you woke up to a loud clang in the kitchen, to find your boyfriend baking you a birthday cake at 4 in the morning.

° You were about to scold him for trying to spoil you, but he just passes you a spoon with some of the icing and batter on it. You can't stay annoyed with you angel of a boyfriend, especially when you remind yourself that it's his birthday too.

° The reason you tell him to not focus on you, is because if you don't tell him that. He will go overboard, and spoil you more than a Kardashian. Which sometimes makes you feel bad for not spoiling him just as much.

° You both facetime your families together, opening up your presents in front of them and the members. Your mom is crying the whole time because she can't get over how happy you look and how you got with such a nice guy.

"I've never seen my baby look so happy."

"Aww, you are extra smiley around me."

"Can you please just open the gift." Changbin sighs playfully, waiting ten minutes over you two gushing over each other.

Seungmin

° You struggle whenever it comes to buying gifts for Seungmin, just because he is so calm around you and always tells you that he doesn't care what you buy him as long as it's from you. He'll even say he doesn't need gifts.

° He's such a sweet boyfriend so you always want to spoil him, but he always manages to get a more heart wrenching gift than you do. Which is now why you are hunting down different stores with Hyunjin, who hasn't bought him a gift yet.

° You both rush towards the music store, when you bump into Seungmin. He is holding a couple bags full of stuff, and he can't help but smile brightly when he runs into you. Knowing exactly why you two are shopping.

° Hyunjin tries to take a peak at the bags to see if he could get any ideas from them, but Seungmin moves them away as he places a small peck to your nose before leaving the store. Making you lost with questions as to what he got you.

"Seungmin! Hi... W-what are you doing here?"

"Getting your presents ready."

"He's always ahead of the game y/n, I swear."

Jeongin

° You both have a whole birthday week, giving each other small little gifts like candy and chocolates before the big day finally arrives. And that's when the members create this huge party for you two, going all out because they are whipped.

° You and Jeongin will steal some of the balloons and keep them in your room to play around with, playing balloon volleyball with each other when neither of you can get to sleep. He always wins because he slaps the balloon so harshly.

° Will have one last dance alone with you after the party. Both of you in your pajamas in his room as you sway back and forth to a soft slow song. You can hear him humming to song against your shoulder.

° During the party, he made the mistake of pulling you in for feverish kiss. Making Itzy, Twice, Day6, Ateez, TxT, Btob, and Ofcourse Stray Kids all start Hollering. You've never witnessed Jeongin blush so harshly before.

"Get it Jeongin!" Han yelled, making Chan slap his arm.

"They're all staring at us."

"That's because you attempted to French kiss me in the middle of the dance floor."

[ofnifflersandkings]

Endgame Strategy

Character: Benny Watts

A/n: I said I’d write for the hot chess people so I did. The timeline for this is kinda confusing but the desperation I had to write this made me simply not care.

•

“(Y/n)!” 

A familiar voice pulled you from your current task of getting Benny’s two ton apartment door shut. You barely got yourself inside before a pair of arms promptly wrapped around you. 

You staggered backwards by the sudden weight, a noise between a wheeze and a laugh escaping you as you registered who it was.

“If it isn’t my favorite drama queen!” You pulled back to get a good luck at Beth, a big grin busting out on both of your faces.

“Come in,” She ushered you in, helping you take off your coat and asking you little questions as she lead you over to the sink.

You were a pretty established photographer for some big fashion companies, so you had been traveling with Cleo around Europe for the better half of a year. You’d telephoned Benny as soon as all of your campaigns wrapped up and he instantly insisted you come to New York to make up for lost time.

You had just started to get a word in when you felt someone come up behind you and squeeze you abruptly, practically toppling you over. “Look what the cat dragged in!”

You looked over to see Benny already looking down at you with a grin before promptly ruffling up your hair. “Hey stranger,” He grinned. You pushed him off and turned to give him a proper hug. 

You noticed Arthur and Hilton lingering behind him and you pulled yourself from his hold to greet them as well.

“You came at the perfect time,” Benny said, slinging an arm over your shoulder. “We were just about to start.”

“What do you say, (Y/n)?” Hilton asked. “Finally gonna indulge us and play a game?”

You shoved his hands off of you and sent him a smile. “You don’t need some newbie slowing down your thunder,” You noticed Benny giving you the pleading look he always sent your way when you turned down playing chess. You swear you thought he knew how to deflate his eyes on purpose so he looked like a kicked puppy. “No, I don’t need your patronizing when I barely make it past five moves.”

Benny was an old childhood friend of yours, so you had known Arthur and Hilton for almost as long as he had. And they made it their personal life mission to rope into playing against one of them. But you were renowned for your patience and they’d yet to wear you down. 

Beth sent a small pout your way and handed you a glass of water. “Oh please, now who’s the drama queen. You were doing great when I was teaching you last time we saw each other.”

Benny’s gaze shot up. “What?”

You scoffed at her, completely forget about your last encounter. “Now that’s not fair, we were hardly playing. You had to show me where to move every five minutes.”

“When did you see each other?” Benny pushed.

You sighed, smoothing down your sweater. “When I was in Paris with Cleo, we only saw each other the one night and I was just bored and tipsy enough to let her show me.” 

She grinned at you, shoving her arm into you as she leant into your side. “I think you have lots of potential. I could make a grandmaster out of you, I know it.”

Benny’s eyes followed you as you moved from your standing position to sit next to him on the sofa.

“You never let me teach you how to play,” He murmured to you with a huff, causing a small tuft of his hair to fly upwards.

Benny had made several attempts to get you into the game he loved so dearly. And as one of the few constant people in his life he wanted you to be part of his world. But each time was met with a firm refusal on your part, insisting you wouldn’t get it. He’d try to pull every trick in the book, every charming smile and all the pretty words he knew to try and convince you to let him show you, but you were always indifferent to his charisma. 

It annoyed the shit out of him.

Truth was you didn’t want to risk embarrassing yourself in front of him. You’d seen him play at almost every match he was ever in and it was almost scary how good he was. You could play a casual game and maybe boast a win or two, but playing against him wasn’t something you think you’ll ever do. Besides, give him the satisfaction of having your inevitable defeat over your head? Not in this lifetime.

You let out a light laugh, smiling at Beth as she moved to grab the other boards from Benny’s alarming collection he kept stuffed in the closet. “You’re too intimidating when you play, I’d be distracted.”

Benny rolled his eyes, thinking of the stern look that permanently sets on Beth’s face. The woman who looks like she’s three seconds away from going for your neck during her games but he was too intimidating.

You took a sip from your glass of water and lightly knocking over one of the knight pieces on the board in front of you. “I don’t see why it matters, I’ll be beat regardless of who’s playing.”

He frowned, he’d always wanted to play you. Not because he cared about winning but he just wanted you to see his skill firsthand. You didn’t bat an eyelash at winnings anymore, and you never stuck around for his in-depth lectures about game theory with the other players. But he also knew you liked knowing the way things worked. And since chess was his bailiwick, Beth being the only other American player who could beat him, he knew you’d be impressed. At first he just thought you weren’t interested, so knowing you were being taught by someone else stung twice-over. 

You knew something was wrong when he didn’t send a clever remark back your way. Benny liked to think he was this cool and collected character, but really he could be quite the prima donna. Knowing him for as long as you did made him an open book, you could almost always know what he was thinking.  

“Don’t be such a baby, Bens.” You grinned, leaning over to tap the end of his nose, something you always did to irritate him. “She crushed me anyways.”

“You’d win if you let me teach you.” He argued, looking at you pointedly. 

“I don’t need to win, that’s your job,” You leaned into him, trying to stroke his ego to get him to drop the subject. 

Benny’s ears perked up and he was about to go into of his grand self-assured lectures when Beth interrupted him, promptly placing the boxes of chess boards on the table in front of him.

“I dunno, (Y/n),” Beth gloated, passing a box to Hilton. “I think he’s losing his touch, last time we played I damn near emptied his wallet.”

That got your attention, and you sat up with a laugh. “You’re kidding? In speed chess?” Your cackles only grew when she gave a proud nod. “I can’t believe I missed it!”

Benny scoffed, pushing away from you to help set up the boards. “You hardly missed anything-“

“She kicked his ass, ,” Arthur chuckled, loosening the cap on his beer bottle. “Said she’d kick him the crotch too when he tried to argue with her.”

You raised your glass to Beth in commencement. “I knew there was a reason I liked you so much.”

“Another simultaneous?” Beth asked, noticing they were moving the boards onto the floor, she turned back to you. “Have you ever seen once of these?”

You shook your head dramatically, moving from your place on the sofa to the floor so you could sit right next to the action. “Nope! I mean I know what they are, but I’ve never actually seen one.”

She smirked, placing the clock at every board while the boys situated the pieces. “Well, you’re in for a treat, these are my specialty.”

You leaned forward, placing your elbows on your knees so could you watch every move. The speed of the game was something you had long gotten used to, but it never was any less impressive. You don’t know how anyone’s brain could go that fast, but watching the pieces fly around the board completely fascinated you. 

Beth really was everything the chess magazines said she was and maybe even more amazing in person. You found it hard to pull your gaze away from her hand, watching as she completely tore through the three boys pieces. Hilton and Arthur were the first to lose, knocking over there kings.

You got ready to settle in while she took on Benny, but not even a few moments later you watched him grimace and reluctantly fish his wallet from his pockets. 

“Wow,” You breathed out, looking over at Beth with a gaze that could only be described as positively starstruck. “I mean I knew you were good, but I don’t think I’ve ever seen anything like that.”

Beth felt her face get a little warm, not used to such straight-forward praise. At least not since she was a child prodigy. She reached her hand up to brush her hair out of her eyes, and pulled her gaze away from you.

“I can do it again.”

Benny felt his eyebrow twitch, he was used to your praise being directed at him for the most part. You had grown up with him constantly talking about and challenging others to play chess. And when he started to make a name for himself he’d taken you along with him. Before your work took off, you had more time to see his games in person. But, even when you couldn’t physically be there, you always called when you saw the results in Chess Review or tuned in to one of the broadcasted matches.

He was the best in the States for a long time, so you had become especially hard to impress. He knew Beth was better him than by miles, but to finally have his title of best chess player you knew taken away made him feel scratchy. 

But he scoffed, straightening his back to try and get his focus back. “Not if I have anything to say about it, Harmon.” 

And so for about three more games, she absolutely crushed the three boys. You got closer to the boards each time, admiring Beth’s superhuman skill. It made you feel a little sting of pride, the girl was showing up three of most arrogant and skilled players you knew. 

“God,” You leaned back onto your elbows, sniffling a giggle when. “I would’ve given any amount of money to be here to see the faces on these boys when you did this the first time.”

Beth smirked, rounding up the pieces to put them away in their cases. “Me too, we could’ve gotten it all on camera.” 

You groaned. “Such a missed opportunity.”

You lolled your head over and saw Benny staring intently at the board, a deep frown on his face. You smiled, scooting over so you could lean all your weight against him. “Don’t look so sad, Bens. I’m sure you would’ve gotten her eventually.”

He laughed, but it didn’t reach his eyes. “That’s what you used to tell all the sorry losers I used to beat.”

You closed your eyes, settling into his side and sighing at his warmth. “You’re not a sorry loser. You’re the best chess player I know.”

“Still?”

“Hey now, I didn’t drag my ass to every one of your matches for decades for you to question my loyalty,” You teased, you opened your eyes and saw something on his wall. Nestled snug inside a frame was the first time he was on the cover of Chess Review.

“You remember when I took that?” You nodded towards it.

Benny smiled properly, his eyes getting a familiar shimmer. “Yes ma’am, I told them I wouldn’t be on the cover unless you got to take my photos,” He wrapped an arm around you. “Course if I had known it’d make you a hot shot photographer who had to go away all the time I might’ve kept my mouth shut.”

You smiled, reaching up to flick his forehead. “I’ve taken all your photos for decades” You made a sweeping notion with your hands to all the various magazines scattered around his apartment. “Even when we were kids, I think I earned my little adventures abroad”

Benny gave you a look, one you couldn’t quite place, but he kept your gaze for awhile. A small smile snuck up in the corner of his mouth before he looked down, strawberry blonde strands hiding him from your view.

“Well don’t stay away so long next time, yeah? I missed you.”

[ghostdrew22]

hi ok sooooo i have asked numerous writers for this request because i thrive on angst and fluff 👁👄👁 so here goes: a love triangle between draco, harry, and a ravenclaw reader. the reader’s been known to be head over heels in love with draco and giving him origami hearts everyday for a year or two, which he only throws in his trash bin. he usually just ignores her and finds her gestures annoying and laughable. one day, he goes too far with his rebuttals. the reader, heartbroken and realizing she had no chance at all, stopped pursuing him altogether. for the next few weeks, he found himself weirded out that he hadn’t received any origami hearts. while emptying his trashbin, he discovers that when you unfold the hearts, there were little notes of encouragement and sweet letters. just as he was about to confront her, he notices the reader folding something on her table during class and thinking it was finally another origami heart for him. however, it was a butterfly, and she handed it to harry instead. Jajdjeioa PLS MAKE IT ANGSTY AND FLUFFY IT’S UP TO U ON HOW IT WILL END BUT WOULD BE CUTE IF HARRY MADE THE PAPER BUTTERFLY FLAP ITS WINGS THO

Ok sorry for the cliche and long request, take your time and stay safe. I enjoy your writing sm 🥺

Butterflies and Paper Hearts || D.M, H.P

Requested: Yes Pairing: Draco Malfoy x fem!reader , a bit of Harry Potter x reader but not really Warnings: ANGST, swearing, Summary: Draco doesn’t like you and tries to let you down multiple times, when it finally does work he feels regret wash over him.

WORDS : 3864

First of all, I’m so sorry for taking so long to get to this. I read the request when it first came in and I loved it but I’ve been struggling to conceptualize it, and then I fell into a bit of a sad spiral because of all the other stuff that’s been going on in my life, which is why I took me so long to complete it. Second of all, I had to amend the idea a bit to make it work for me, e.g I wrote this in an AU where Voldemort doesn’t exist because I hate mr. no-nose, and I didn’t make the hearts go on for years. Third of all, thank you so much for this request! It’s a lovely concept and I really enjoyed writing it <3

~~~

Butterflies.

Flying. Soaring. Alive.

The first time that Draco had ever noticed you was in your fourth year. You were sat at the Ravenclaw table and immersed in a discussion with Padma Patil, one that had you laughing so hard that you were throwing your head back and wiping tears from your eyes. The sight had knocked the wind out of his lungs, like someone had just punched him in the stomach, and he felt the weirdest sensation in his gut.

It was butterflies erupting.

~~~

The first time that you noticed Draco was in your fifth year. Ravenclaws and Slytherins were in Charms together, as usual, and you’d accidentally sat next to him instead of Padma.

“Dude, you’ll never guess what happened this morn-“ You stop speaking the second you notice that the person beside you is, in fact, not your best friend but rather a scowling Slytherin. “You’re not Padma.” You frown.

“No shit.” He rolls his eyes, “What gave it away? The green robes or the blond hair?”

“The snarky attitude.” You instantly reply and he looks taken aback for a second, “Who are you anyway?”

If you’d thought he looked shocked before, you were wrong. “Excuse me?”

“Who are you? What was so confusing about that sentence?” You raise your eyebrows, “Clearly not a Ravenclaw.”

He scoffs at your remark but answers anyway, “I’m Draco? Draco Malfoy?” He asks, a pretentious tone lacing his voice. “We’ve shared this lesson together since you got here last year?”

“Stalker much?” You ask with a smile and he rolls his eyes. “Anyway, nice to meet you Draco, I’m Y/N.”

“I know.” He replies simply as he takes the hand that you’d outstretched. “Some of us pay attention.”

“Mhmm.”

“So what happened this morning?”

“What?” You furrow your eyebrows in confusion.

“You were about to tell me about what happened this morning.”

“Oh.” You respond in embarrassment and watch as his smirk grows.

“What? Am I not worthy of your great story?”

“It’s not that, I just don’t think it’ll interest you.”

“Try me.”

“Right, what’s all this then?” Padma asks as she stops in front of the desk with a confused expression.

You giggle at her obvious confusion, “I accidentally sat here instead of by our normal spot. Do you know this miserable boy?”

“Better than I’d like to admit.” She responds sourly before turning a harsh gaze toward Draco, “Daddy’s boy.”

“Wench.” He responds and she rolls her eyes.

“Are you coming to sit with me?” Padma asks as she turns back to you and you shake your head.

“Maybe tomorrow, I’d like to sit here and annoy him today.”

“I cannot possibly stand in the way of that, you’re doing the whole grade a great service.” Padma replies with a laugh as she goes to sit a few desks away from you.

~~~

Day 1 - 1 Heart

Hearts.

Fragile things.

It’s the next Monday when you have Charms again, and you decide to sit by Draco’s desk in hopes of him coming to sit beside you.

“What on earth are you doing?” Draco asks as he peers over your shoulder before sitting in the chair beside you.

“Origami.” You respond with a smile and he raises an eyebrow toward you. “That thing where you fold pieces of paper into shapes?” You ask and he nods in understanding.

He takes his seat with a sigh, “Sounds boring.”

“Everything sounds boring to you.” You roll your eyes before finishing up the origami heart.

“True.”

You give it a once over and smile in satisfaction before turning to Draco and handing it out him. “Here.”

Hearts. Absurdly fragile things, Draco thinks as he feels his own heart begin to race. Here you are, nonchalantly handing him a piece of paper, and he feels like his entire world is collapsing in on itself at the gesture. Y/N, giving me a heart.

He rolls his eyes and takes the object from you with a scowl, “Why are you giving this to me?”

You shrug, “You’re not completely intolerable, you’ve earned it.”

He smirks, “Careful, people might start to think that you like me.”

You smile, “Maybe I do.”

Your smile reminds him of butterflies- bright, fluttering, inviting, warm, beautiful.

He rolls his eyes and makes a big show of tossing the origami heart into a nearby bin, and you fight to hide the hurt hidden behind your eyes. But what you don’t know is that at the end of the Charms lesson, once everyone else has left, Draco goes into that very same bin and pulls out the heart.

Day 20 - 20 Hearts

“Are you still doing this?” He asks in annoyance as you hand him another origami heart, the same way you have, every morning, for the last twenty days.

“Yup. I’ve got no reason to stop.” You shrug with a small smile.

“How about the fact that I think they’re stupid and I don’t like them?”

“You’re under the misconception that I care about your feelings.”

He chuckles and brings his face down to yours till you’re inches apart. “I think you care a lot more about my feelings than you’d like to admit.”

You swallow and look away from him, trying to avoid the warm feeling that’s creeping up your neck and settling into your skin. “You wish blondie.”

“Mhmm.” He replies absent-mindedly as he turns into the classroom, drops the heart into the nearest bin, and sits in his seat.

You try to look unbothered as you go to sit beside him, ignoring the disappointment that’s churning your insides.

Day 35 - 35 Hearts

You watch as Draco inspects the origami heart from the Slytherin table, hoping that he might open it this time.

“He’s going to break your heart, Y/N.” Padma whispers from her seat beside you in the Great Hall.

You shake your head and let your eyes drift away from the blond at the Slytherin table. “He wouldn’t do that, he’s a lot better than you think he is.”

“Y/N, I’ve known him a lot longer than you have and I know that this isn’t going to end well.”

“And why not?” You ask defensively.

Because you’re a muggle-born, Padma wants to say, but she knows that it isn’t her place to crush your dreams so harshly. She shakes her head instead and smiles sympathetically, “Nevermind, I’m sorry for overstepping.”

You don’t notice, too busy talking to Padma, that Draco tucks the little piece of paper into his robe with a small smile.

Day 50 - 50 Hearts

You don’t exactly know when you caught feelings for Draco, it’s like all the small moments just bunched up together, but you know that it wasn’t your intention. The hearts, the sitting together in charms, it had all just started as friendly gestures in an attempt to get the scowling boy to befriend you, but somewhere along the line things just got too messy.

And now, you’re utterly infatuated with him.

You take a deep breath as you pull out the small box from your bag containing Draco’s Christmas present. The train comes to a half at platform 9 and 3/4, and you quickly grab your belongings before rushing out of the train in order to catch the blond before he goes home for the holidays.

You catch him by the door and you smile at him. “I’ve got something for you.”

“Another paper heart?” He raises his eyebrows with a smirk and you shake your head.

“No, it’s something else actually.” You hand the box to him, wrapped in a mix of dark green and navy blue paper, and he accepts it with a skeptical glance.

“What is it?”

“A Christmas present.” You laugh and he nods sheepishly in acknowledgement.

“Oh.” He rubs the back of his neck, “I didn’t get you anything…”

“I didn’t want anything.” You smile again, “That’s not why I got you a gift.”

You watch as he nods again and looks out the window. “Then why did you get me the gift?”

“Cause we’re friends.” You shrug and he swallows.

If he were any other person then the erupting butterflies in his stomach would be an obvious sign to pull you closer and hug you till both your arms hurt. If you weren’t a muggle-born witch, and his parents weren’t watching him intently from outside the train, then this would be the moment that he seized to let your friendship blossom into more.

“We’re not friends.” He spits out coldly, and you’re taken aback by the sudden harsh tone.

“Okay…” You reply quietly, “Acquaintances?”

“For fuck sake…” He mumbles with a sigh, “Y/N, I don’t like you, at all. You’re annoying, you’re pushy, and worst of all, you’re a mudblood.”

Harsh words, words that taste of venomous denial, are running out of his mouth before he can stop them. The look of astonishment and sadness on your face has regret dancing on his tastebuds like the taste of tar, and he struggles to push that feeling down.

“You don’t mean that…” 

“I meant every word, and I can repeat it if that empty skull of yours didn’t catch it.”

You shake your head and look down at the ground, trying to blink away tears, and he nods as he turns to finally leave the train.

“Draco.” You choke out and he whips his head back angrily.

“What?”

“I forgot to give you this today.” You whisper as you hand him his origami heart and push your way past him toward the platform.

You feel sick, you feel sad, you feel disappointed. There’s a twisting and churning that’s going on in your stomach but it’s not like normal, it’s the opposite of what you’ve felt every time before.

It’s butterflies dying.

He watches you walk away as a lump forms in his throat.

Day 65 - 0 Hearts

Draco walks into charms half-expecting you to be sitting somewhere else, and half-hoping that you’re sitting in your usual seat beside him. He didn’t open the Christmas present, too much guilt weighing him down, and he hopes that you don’t give him any more paper hearts.

He feels an odd combination of anguish and comfort when he sees that you haven’t moved, and goes to sit beside you in silence. You turn to him and smile but say nothing to him, not then and not for the rest of the lesson. When you get up to leave he half-expects you to drop an origami heart on his books, and disappointment consumes when you don’t.

Day 75 - 0 Hearts

“Morning.” He mumbles as he finds a spot beside you, as usual.

“Morning.” You respond.

That’s all the conversation that you two have now. A part of you misses the way the two of you had been before, easy-going, sarcastic, in-sync, but an even bigger part of you understands why that had to be over. He could never allow himself to love someone like you without resentful undertones of disgust and shame, and you could never settle for someone who doesn’t love you regardless of your blood purity.

“Y/N…” Someone whines from ahead and you look up from your desk to find Harry stood in front of you.

You laugh at his childish behaviour, “Yes Harry?”

“Please help me with this assignment?”

“No.” You respond bluntly, just to mess with him, and he pouts at you.

“Please?” You shake your head, “Please?” You shake your head again and he pouts at you hopelessly, “Pleaseeee?” He begs once more and drags out his plea.

You laugh once again and nod, “Okay fine.”

“Thank you so much!” He exclaims excitedly and leans over the desk to hug you. You shake your head and giggle in his arms, and Draco has to look away to ignore the looming feeling of jealousy consuming him.

Day 103 - 1 Heart

“So, I know that we’re not friends or anything…” You start as you turn to Draco, “But Valentine’s Day is tomorrow and I can’t resist the urge to give you one more.”

He furrows his eyebrows in confusion but feels realisation wash over him as you hand him an origami heart, one that’s bigger than all the rest you’ve given him in the past. He nods and takes it from you, trying to pretend as though his heart isn’t swelling at the gesture. “Thank you.” He responds curtly before the two of you revert back to silence.

It’s only when he’s alone in his dorm room that night that he actually looks at the origami heart. It’s red, and you’ve written his name across it in cursive. He runs his fingers along it and allows himself to unfurl it, feeling shocked to find words written inside it.

I know you never read these, so I’m probably wasting my time, but I wanted to say that I miss you.

Ridiculous right? I even feel stupid writing it. But it’s the truth, I do. I miss your smile, and your laugh. I miss the way you would scribble nonsense in my book to distract me from the lesson, and I miss the way you’d get so frustrated when I did the same. I miss the way you’d make fun of me for being a nerd, and try not to look proud when you outdid me in tests.

I miss your jokes too, even though they weren’t really funny, and the way you’d always forget your textbook so we were forced to share and we had an excuse to talk. I miss you a bunch, even though I know that you don’t miss me nearly as much.

Happy Valentine’s Day pretty boy,

I wish you could’ve loved me the way that I love you.

He quickly jumps off his bed and walks toward his trunk. He pulls out the Christmas gift that he never opened and another small box that he’d used to store all of your origami hearts, and begins to go through them all.

Note 1 - You’re weird but I like you. Very defensive, I hope that I can knock down those barriers. Note 2 - Your hair looked really nice today, made you look like a famous movie star who pays people to do it for him. Do you secretly have a hairdresser in your room? Note 3 - Your eyes are a strange colour, a cross between blue and grey, it reminds me of the sky before a really pretty rainstorm.

He opens every heart, from the first to the last, processing every last compliment that you’d ever written. With every word he reads, he feels a mixture of love and guilt wash over him simultaneously. Love for you- because you’re kind, and funny, and beautiful, and way too good for him- and guilt- for treating you so horribly because he was scared, when all he had wanted to do was kiss you, and hold your hand.

9 - I’m oddly very proud of you for beating me in the latest Charms assignment, you might actually be the bigger nerd between us both. 20 - I know you hate that I call you pretty boy but that’s what you are, you’re unnecessarily pretty! 26 - You’re very funny when you’re not trying to be. Your jokes are horrendous, but your impersonations and quips can be quite amusing. 35 - I’m starting to think that you don’t read these. No, I’m sure that you’re not reading these. Doesn’t matter though, there’s so many things that I love about you and I think I’ll explode if I don’t put them down somewhere. 47 - I’ve fallen very hard for you, it might be your dumb laugh or the way you tickle me whenever you walk into class, but I didn’t know that you could feel this much for a person. Damn you pretty boy. 50 - Padma thinks you’re no good for me, I agree, but I don’t care. I love you too much to give you up.

The last of the collection is the Christmas gift that you gave him. He’d refrained from opening it out of shame, feeling unworthy of a gift from you after being so cold to you that day on the train. He unwraps it and finds another paper heart, with a silver engraved ring above it. The words, ‘pretty boy’  are inscribed into the ring and he smiles at the sight, a few tears sliding down his face.

Pretty boys like you deserve a little more than paper hearts, I hope you like it.

He slips the ring on before getting off his bed, walking to his desk, and pulling out a piece of paper.

Day 104 - 1 Heart.

It’s Valentine’s Day and his palms are sweaty, for the first time in his life Draco has sweaty palms because of a girl.

You’re in your usual seat and you’re folding another piece of paper. His heart soars at the sight of you so focused, that goofy smile you always have whenever something demands a lot of your attention, and your hands working delicately against the edges of the paper. He stops in front of you.

He clears his throat and you look up at him, startled by the sudden interruption. “Oh, Draco, morning.” You respond with a small smile, obviously still apprehensive about him.

“Happy Valentine’s Day Y/N.” He smiles back and slides an origami heart onto the desk, beside the butterfly that you seem to have been folding.

“What’s this?” You ask in confusion as you pick it up and inspect it.

“You’ve made enough to be able to tell by now.” He deadpans and you laugh softly with a nod.

“It’s a paper heart.” You smile up at him, “Did you make this for me?”

“Maybe.” He responds curtly as he slides into his chair beside you, but you catch the shy smile he’s harboring.

“Thank you.” He nods, “I could’ve done better though.”

He scoffs, “That’s not a fair comparison.”

“And why not?” You raise your eyebrows and he chuckles as he rolls his eyes.

“Read the note inside and you’ll know why.”

“There’s a note inside?” You exclaim excitedly as you start to unfold the heart and he yanks it out of your hands.

“No! Read it later when I’m, like, far away from you.” He says defensively and you furrow your eyebrows but nod in agreement.

“Alright, I’ll read it after school.” You take it back from him and put it in your robe. You resume folding the butterfly and smile when you see that it’s done.

Draco watches intently as you finish it, expecting you to hand it to him once it’s finished, and furrows his eyebrows in confusion when you set it down and scan the classroom.

“Harry!” You exclaim as you watch him walk from the door and toward you with a bright smile.

“Y/N.” He responds once he’s standing in front of you. “Is this for me?” He asks once he sees the butterfly on your desk, and Draco is about to scoff at the question but you nod your head eagerly.

“Of course!” You pick it up and give it to Harry, watching excitedly as he opens it up and reads the note inside.

Draco watches in silent envy as Harry laughs, at whatever you’ve written in the note, and brings his lips down to your forehead. “Thank you so much butterfly, I love it.”

You smile proudly and your eyes light up as you watch Harry cast a charm to make the butterfly flap it’s wings and fly down to his desk. “When are you going to teach me that? I’ve been asking for weeks now!”

“If I taught you then I wouldn’t have anything to impress you with.” He smirks as he leaves to his desk and you shake your head with a laugh.

“You two seem to be quite friendly now…” Draco mumbles, trying to hide the jealousy in his voice. The butterflies that had been erupting in his stomach earlier that morning being trampled to death by Harry.

“Yeah, we’ve been-“ You cut yourself off with a gasp as you catch a glimpse of the ring that you bought Draco, “You’re wearing it!”

He smiles at your excitement, thinking about how such simple expressions from you leave butterflies fluttering in his stomach. “Yes.” He chuckles and you smile.

“I thought you didn’t like it.” You respond softly and he feels his heart break.

“No, not at all. I just didn’t want other people getting jealous.”

He smiles at you and you feel that familiar bubbling in your stomach, like rosh bushes blooming at the sight of the sun, but you can’t exactly pinpoint the feeling.

Later that day when you’re sat beneath a tree and reading Draco’s letter, you know exactly what that feeling is.

~~~

Y/N.

Beautiful, funny, kind, observant, utterly perfect Y/N.

I’ve spent the last three hours trying to come up with a reason for you to forgive me, I couldn’t come up with one. I also tried to find an excuse, any really, that could justify my horrid actions over the last few weeks, and I couldn’t find one. So instead, I settled on just telling you the truth.

I’m a coward.

You’re probably laughing right now and thinking, “He’s only realising this now?”, and the answer is yes. I’m not sure if you’ve noticed but you’re the brighter one between us two. It took me 103 more days than you, to realise what you knew the first day you made me a paper heart; the two of us are meant to be.

That sounds a bit cheesy doesn’t it? Doesn’t matter anyway, because in note 12 you said that you enjoy my cheesy anecdotes. I’m not sure why though, I’m not particularly sure why you love anything about me when you’re you, but I guess some mysteries can never be solved.

I’m sorry for those words I said that day on the train, I didn’t mean them. I was scared of what my parents would think if I fell for a muggle-born witch, but I forgot one important thing; it doesn’t matter. All that matters is the fact that I’ve never been as happy as when I’m with you. If I could spend the rest of my life getting these perfect little paper hearts from you, listening to your sweet laugh, bothering you when you’re trying to get work done and buying you rings that match the ones on my hands, then I’d be over the moon.

I’m sorry for taking so long to tell you this; I love you Y/N. I know that I haven’t earned a second chance but if by some miracle you decide to grant me one then I promise to make it worth your while.

I would pick the stars out of the sky for you Y/N, if only you asked me to.

Happy Valentine’s Day from your pretty boy.

You look up from the letter and wipe the tears that had managed to escape, before getting off the grass and running back into the castle. When you find Draco eating dinner in the Great Hall, and see him flash you a shy smile, you instantly know what that feeling from earlier was.

It was butterflies reviving.

~~~

get added to my taglist <33

taglist : @purpleskymalfoy, @astoria-malfcy, @dreaming-about-fanfictions, @dracoscene

~~~

I’m pretty sure I completely deviated from what you wanted, I’m so sorry if it’s not satisfactory :( It’s so cheesy and I feel like I messed it up at a few points but either way I liked writing it, it made me very happy to finally write some Draco fluff again.

anyway, love you all,

jean <3

[depressedacadamia]

Dimples

Summary: Apparently Nico has dimples and Will did not know.

A/N: Heheheee, motherfuckers my exams are in a week and a half and I haven't revised shit. Instead, I'm writing these. Wish me luck, this might be the only fic I post for the next 2 weeks but if you're lucky, I might post pt 2 for 'How to passive aggressively say Fuck you in flower'. Toodle pip and <3 from mee!

Extra edit: I forgot it was solangelo week, woops. 

Read on A03

Nico Di Angelo was not known for smiling. He was not known for grinning or laughing. He was however, known for snarling, sarcastic, outdated remarks and terrifying people to the point where they’d rather face death itself than face him and his wrath.

So of course, Percy and every logical being would avoid him at all costs when he was in one of his ‘moods’. These so-called ‘moods’ referred to when Nico seemed particularly dangerous, like when his eyes had a dangerous glower to them that hinted he enjoyed threatening others a tad too much- in fact, so much so that Leo had suggested that Nico may be a sadist (That hadn’t gone well for Leo, to say the very least).

But of course, William Andrew Solace was in no way a logical being nor was he very fearful of Nico’s alternating and very much violent auras. Now, this wasn't necessarily a bad thing necessarily, in fact, it was the very thing that had started their relationship and while everybody thought Will was insensitive with his historical jokes he made towards Nico, Nico greatly appreciated being able to understand something from his time.

Will, on several occasions, related him to Captain America in Marvel's Avengers.

So when Nico, in his terrifying rage, stormed into the infirmary, Percy wasn’t sure what he was about to witness. Were these two having an argument? Nico looked like he was going to set the infirmary ablaze or perhaps bury it 6 feet under- it was truly the unpredictability that created the suspense and fear.

“Where are they?” Nico’s voice was calm, cold but sharp. His words felt like the gentle, smooth slant of a knife, apply pressure and you get cut. Nobody dared to answer. The infirmary’s silence seemed like one of lambs, too scared to speak out until another leader did. Whether they expected Nico to simply leave if no one answered, they certainly did not expect him to ask again.

“Where. Are. They?” He punctuated his words, his voice combined with a deadly hunger that could only be satisfied with death.

The room felt like a cave. The only words being echoed back were Nico’s own words, bouncing off the smooth walls of the infirmary. The corners seemed dark, the white presence of the infirmary slowly being poisoned. It seemed like fate sealed their hands- they were like lambs to the slaughter: helpless.

“WHERE ARE THEY!” Nico roared. This time, he did not wait for a response. He took a small glimpse at the camper in front of him, who was obviously avoiding his gaze, and the next thing the kid knew was that he was pinned to the wall with a metre of stygian iron under his neck. The kid hyperventilated and in a moment of sheer panic and pure fear, blurted,

“I don’t know where they are! “

Nico, holding the camper up with one hand, shoved him into the wall again. “ But you hurt them anyway?”

The camper was completely clueless but he wasn’t stupid. Simply denying whatever Nico was accusing him of would increase Nico’s rage and that could lead everyone down a very dark road.

“I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to hurt them! I swear...” He started to sob. “ I swear it was an accident!”

“You hurt them! That isn’t an accident. You will pay for your crimes. I swear I will-”

“-Dear god, Nico what the hell?” A voice of pure confusion entered the infirmary. Nico, on recognising the voice, felt his head snap backwards-trying to find the course of the voice. There on the other side of the infirmary, with his leg in a cast, stood Will solace, still as unfashionable as ever.

Nico almost teleported to Will, considering how fast he appeared by his side. “ Are you okay? It’s okay, I found out who did it and-”

“-Jesus, Stalin, calm down there.” Will looked at the terrified boy who was in tears. “This kid knows nothing. He wasn’t even there. Were you just putting on some show trials?”

Nico had to resist the twitch in his lips at the communism jokes. Ever since Will had found out that Nico’s weakness was communism jokes, he had been exploiting it, just like the working class were exploited, and using it to his own advantage.

“Wait, this kid wasn’t involved?” Nico looked at all the terrified people in the infirmary, still frozen to their spots, waiting for the go sign for them to continue with their lives.

Will waved his hand. “Go ahead, continue with your business. He will be on his best behaviour now that I’m here.”

“Uh, says who?”

“Says my broken leg.”

On the mention of a broken leg, Nico’s worry instantly returned. His hand reached out to touch Will’s face, in a gesture of affection before quickly snatching it away. Will reached for his hand, took it in his own and intertwined their fingers as in to say It’s okay, they support us. It’s okay, I love you and you love me. It’s okay, I’m not ashamed of being in love with you.

Nico appreciated the gesture and once again, fought the urge to give in to the overwhelming desire to smile at his perfect boyfriend.

“Are you okay? Can you show me your leg? What happened? Why can’t you heal it?” The words began flying out of Nico’s mouth, the concern on his face unhideable. His eyebrows were cutely creased together and he kept on placing his hands all over Will- it was driving him crazy.

“Calm down there, communist. This is my injury, not yours.” Will joked, trying to hide his blush- truth be told, he did not want to tell Nico the real reason behind how he broke his leg because it was honestly the most ridiculous reason one may ever hear in their entire life.

Nico let out a little snort of laughter after hearing another communist joke but was careful to keep it on the downlow. He noticed that Will was being quite indirect and avoiding his gaze: he knew that could only mean one thing.

“What did you do to break your leg?” Nico smirked wickedly, understanding that Will had, once again, been quite idiotic.

Will, gasping in mock offense but also quite embarrassed by how well his own boyfriend knew him, let out a bubble of nervous daughter. “ Hahaa, what do you mean? I broke my leg the same way everyone else does...”

“... which is?”

Due to the vast amount of broken legs he had healed, Will actually knew how to answer this question. “ Through sports.”

“Sports?” Nico snorted. “ You? Sports? Have you ever even run in your entire life? I swear the only thing you do is heal and read. Maybe sleep on the offhand you listen to me.”

“You can’t talk over there!”

“Just tell me how you broke your leg, for the love of the Gods!”

“I was having a competition with Percy for who could heal faster.”

“You were doing what?”

“A competition Nico, have you ever heard of one? Normally the losers forget they exist so I wouldn't be surprised that you had never heard of one-”

“No, I know what a competition is, you idiot. What I don't know is, why on earth you were having a regeneration competition with Percy of all the demigods you could have chosen, you chose the one with the ability to heal themselves as well?”

Will pouted slightly, his eyebrows making a small frown. “I would have thought you would be halfway through murdering Percy right about now.”

“If Percy managed to win, then honestly, you kinda deserved it.”

“I thought you liked me!”

“I thought my boyfriend wasn’t an idiot!”

“Technically I won because Percy was too baby-ish to break his own leg!”

Nico took a very long pause. Slowly, he began shaking his head, from side to side. The expression on his face was illegible but eventually it morphed into one of laughter. His laugh was rich and so was the expression on his face. His lips were curled upwards, his eyes were creasing, with long beautiful dimples on both sides of his face- as clear as the moon on a clear night.

The infirmary was silent. They simply stared at the beautiful angel who graced the place with their voice. They were horrified and in awe. Nico Di Angelo was capable of smiling! He was capable of laughing!

It was a fucking miracle.

“What did I tell you!” Percy yelled, throwing his arm over Annabeth who simply sighed. “I fucking told you! I knew he had dimples!”

Will, slightly stunned, simply took Nico’s face in both his hands. His crystal blue eyes were wide open and to Nico it looked like the ocean was inviting him to take a dive into int’s complex and unknown depths.

Into the unknooooowwwwwnnnnnn.

He cursed himself for that being his first thought. He then cursed Will for making him watch Frozen because it was apparently culturally inappropriate to not have seen it. Then he cursed himself again for cursing Will.

“Holy shit,” Will whispered as he stared into his boyfriends grinning face. “Holy fuck Nico, you never told me you had dimples.”

“Language.”

“Holy shit, holy fucking hell. You cannot smile at me like that Nicolo Di Angelo and expect me to keep my language appropriate. Have you ever seen yourself in a mirror?”

“Calm down,” Nico groaned, throwing his head backwards. He could feel his palms getting sweaty from Will’s words- what could he say, he was slightly embarrassed.

“Wait!” Will cried. “ Do it again. Smile again!”

Nico gave a sultry smirk and Will whacked his arm. “ I asked you to smile at me, not seduce me. Smile!”

“Who wouldn't be happy to be seduced by me?”

“Just smile, please!”

Nico sighed before looking at his gorgeous boyfriend. His eyes darted down at the cast around the leg and immediately Nico remembered the cause of injury. He started laughing, his lips stretching into a genuine smile and his dimples flashing all across his face. Will, still holding his boyfriend's face, couldn’t help himself as he brought their lips together.

Will was so used to feeling Nico’s smile when they kissed so when he brought their lips together, he didn't know what he was expecting. It felt different for some reason, it felt more.. It felt better, it felt like he was getting a new piece of Nico. Feeling Nico smile and seeing him smile were two different things and now that he could picture Nico’s smile as he kissed his smiling lips, Will thought he’d explode from happiness.

Will pulled away quickly, his hand still cemented to Nico’s grinning face. He had pulled away just so he could see Nico’s smile and more importantly his dimples again.

“What?” Nico’s innocent voice and grin combined confirmed for Will that if he died on that very spot, he would have died a happy man.

“Holy shit, you’re the cutest person ever.”

And with that, he brought their lips together again.

Neither of them noticed Thalia and Annabeth sulking as they paid up their debts to Percy from losing the bet.

[mrsbrekkers]

Bestie I had an idea can I plz request some Jesper x Reader with the only one bed trope and maybe include dancing in the rain? Imma leave everything else up to you because you have an amazing imagination. Once again no rush! 🤍🤍🤍

BESTIEEEEEEEEE hi :) so, i left out the rain bit bcuz my brain went; part two? i can write part two muhhahahahAHHAHA. but yes here's one bed trope tehe

pairings! jesper x reader / kaz x inej, nina x matthias + wylan being the bad bittie he is and making flash bombs

reader is gender neutral per usual in my jesper fics!

warnings! none? mention of a flash bomb, swearing, sexual t e n s i o n, kaz being a shipper of reader and jesper, kaz also being a simp for inej, jesper being H O T, anyways here it isssssssssss

word count! 2296!

WHAT IS IT ABOUT HOTELS?

“So, we’re going to be staying in hotels? Seriously Kaz?” Inej spoke. She’d been the first to speak after Kaz had announced their newest job. It presented the chance for twenty million kruge, which split among the seven, was about three million each. It involved crashing a merchant’s party and killing a few people, but it wasn’t like they hadn’t done so before. No, what irked the team was the necessity to stay in hotels.

“Wouldn’t that leave a trail behind, Kaz? You know, the way to find who did what we’re planning on doing?” Jesper asked, raising a brow. but Kaz simply shook his head. The Crows should’ve known that Kaz had his weird, out of the box ways to cover up his trail. Especially when it involved murder. Sure, people could suspect the Dregs, but they could never pin-point anything big that they were involved in unless Kaz let it be known.

“It won’t. I paid under a different alias. A dead one, but it works all the same,” Kaz responded, looking over at Jesper, who simply laid back into his seat and nodded in understanding.

“What will be the rooming arrangements?” Wylan asked. His eyes were set on the flash bomb he was working on. One to help blind everyone at the party before the killing was done.

“Nina and Matthias will room together. Inej, Wylan, and I will all have our own rooms, and Y/N and Jesper will share a bedroom,” Kaz responded, making Y/N and Jesper slowly turn their heads to look at their boss.

“What?!” They said in unison, making all of the Crows excluding Kaz laugh. Yes, because the suffering of two friends is so funny! Y/N’s eyes didn’t leave Kaz, who shrugged.

“I need my own room, Inej needs her own room, Wylan also does, he’s working on a bomb after all. Nina and Matthias were a given, so that leaves you two, and I wasn’t paying any more than I had on the rooms,” Kaz reasoned, but he did have underlying reasons. Inej and him had a bet on whether the two would get together or not, and for once, he was putting effort into winning a bet. Which explained Inej and her glare thrown his way.

“You can’t switch Inej and Jesper around? Inej and I are good friends! I’m sure she’d love to share a room with me,” Y/N said, looking at Inej, who nodded.

“The issue is not the room itself, but the amount of beds,” Kaz said, smirking just slightly, one that Jesper nor Y/N caught onto since they both looked at one another, realization rushing over their faces.

“There’s only one bed?!” They both said in unison once more, making the Crows all laugh once more, even louder this time though.

“Yep, it was cheaper, and I want to make as much profit as I can from this,” Kaz said, his eyes lifting from the drawing he was now working on with Wylan, who’d set the bomb aside for the time being. His eyes had that look in it. No room for discussion.

Y/N and Jesper sighed, their heads falling to the table.

Inej looked over at Kaz then, her eyes narrowing. “You set this up. Unfair, you’re cheating in the bet,” she accused. Kaz said nothing though, simply going back to the drawing that he’d been doing with Wylan, nodding as Wylan spoke.

“This is bullcrap,” Inej murmured, rolling her eyes as she looked at Jesper and Y/N, who now bickered over who would get the bed and who would lay on the ground.

“No, that isn’t fair Y/N and you know that. You don’t get to claim the bed because you're Kaz’s favorite! One, that’s a lie, Inej is. Two, I have to have a bed! It is that simple!” Jesper argued back, but Y/N shook their head.

“No, no, no! It isn’t that simple! I won’t miss out on a hotel bed because you so desperately need a bed, Jesper Fahey, that isn’t fair!”

And Inej let her head fall to the table, a huff being heard from her. Children.

The day came then. The day for the Crows to arrive at the hotels, and before Kaz could even fully check them in Y/N and Jesper were running down the hall, full sprint. They both stopped at their door, Jesper trying to open it despite needing the key card - which a smirking Kaz had down the steps.

“You imbecile, it needs the key card, which conveniently you forgot downstairs! Cheater!” Y/N yelled. The Crows walked up the steps soon after, seeing the two doubled over, catching their breath. Nina couldn’t help but laugh, walking into the room her and Matthias were assigned. Inej was the next into her room, Wylan across from her. Finally, Kaz arrived in front of the two.

“I didn’t cheat! You started running before Kaz-” Jesper pointed at their boss, who stood with a roll of his eyes. “-finished checking in, and I wasn’t going to give you that head start. Who’s the cheater now, huh?!” The bickering had been quite the site for the past few days. Most of the other Crows found it amusing, especially Nina. The bed hadn’t been brought up since the day Kaz announced sleeping arrangements, so to remedy the problem? The two put their bickering into everything else.

“I’m going to have to buy earplugs from downstairs,” Kaz murmured. He was half sure he’d lose his mind with these two.

“Tell him I get the bed!” Y/N pointed at Jesper now, looking at their boss.

“Tell them I get the bed!” Jesper retaliated his pointed finger shifting to Y/N.

Looking between the two, Kaz had to compose himself to refrain from laughing. He’d really done this. He’d caused this and he wasn’t half mad about it. “Here,” was all he said before dropping the key card between the two, watching both of them scramble to grab it. If only the other Crows were here to see this. He then walked to his room across the way. Of course the room was right next to Inej’s.

Y/N managed to get their hand on the keycard first, standing and opening the door before running towards the bed, hopping onto it. Feeling the comfort as they landed, they smirked. “I win-” but Jesper had also jumped onto the bed, now on top of Y/N, cutting the latter off as they were suffocated.

“Jesper!” Y/N squirmed underneath him, pushing the taller boy off of them. Jesper simply chuckled, rolling over to now lay next to Y/N, glancing over at them as he laid there. He smiled, seeing how they’re chest rose up and down, hair a mess. Their breathing was irregular, but it reminded him of the run up the stairs, full of pushing, laughing. Even if they bickered, Jesper couldn’t help but admire everything about Y/N. How their lips were so perfect. Their skin looked soft to the touch, being lit by the setting sun outside. They glew in the light. They lit up the room they were in. Because even if the sun disappeared, there’d be them. They were the sun. His sun.

Y/N turned their head, seeing Jesper staring at them. “Jes?” They whispered. They watched Jesper shake himself from the trance he’d been in, sitting up and running a hand down his face. They followed him, sitting now.

“Nothing,” Jesper said, standing and walking into the bathroom, leaving a confused Y/N. Humming a bit, Y/N stood and grabbed the keycard and wrote a small note that they were going to Inej’s room. Walking out of the room and knocking on her door, Y/N bobbed back and forth on their heels.

Confusion laced their features, unsure what Jesper had been thinking. Y/N normally was a phenomenal reader of emotions, but it appeared they’d overestimated said ability. Jesper had been staring, but it wasn’t like they had a problem with it. They had stared longingly across the room at one another dozens of times - not that they considered it longingly, more in a friendly manner. Even if it definitely wasn’t in such a way.

Inej opened the door, smiling as she saw her friend. She stepped to the side, letting Y/N in. “What brings you here?” Does Jesper like me? Was the first thought that came to mind to ask Inej. Weird question to ask, but Jesper tended to tell Inej a lot. It wouldn’t be surprising if he had told her. Even then, Inej was the most observant person Y/N knew.

Y/N sat on the bed, glancing around the hotel room, trying to find something to focus on. The two talked for a good hour, playing whatever games they could think of to pass the time. “You know you can stay here if you’d like. Even with the one bed,” Inej offered, smiling a bit. Over the course of a few years, the two had become close. They told one another everything.

“No, no, it’s alright. I saw the double bed in Kaz’s room though. He didn’t get the room just for himself,” Y/N said, glancing up at Inej. A way to be near one another without having to cross boundaries both may not be ready for. A way to watch over one another. Y/N thought of Jesper then. How they looked over one another without meaning too. Whether it be on jobs, or in general around the Barrel; they looked after one another.

Inej kicked Y/N in the shin, raising a brow. “When are you and Jesper going to admit those little feelings for yours?” She asked, making Y/N’s head shoot up.

“I don’t have feelings for Jesper-”

“Denial,” Inej said, crossing her arms. Maybe it was denial. Maybe that’s why Y/N had been so apprehensive to share a room with him. Much more, only one bed. Because they feared their feelings would ultimately be revealed.

“I did not come in here to be told I’m in denial about my feelings, Inej. I was going to offer up potentially going down to the pool, having some time off before this giant heist we’re going to try and pull off, butttttttt not anymore,” Y/N said, standing. A smile was still on their lips though, a small laugh being heard as they walked towards the door.

“I know that offer is still up!” Inej called as Y/N left the room, heading back towards their shared room, they entered, seeing a now showered Jesper. They stopped dead in their tracks, eyes scanning Jesper. He was shirtless, a towel wrapped around his torso. It was a sight to see, and Y/N was receiving a front seated view.

“I-um…” Y/N spoke quietly, tilting their head, trying to take this all in. Jesper’s head lifted upon hearing the small words from the door, seeing his roommate for the night.

“Your note said you were going to spend time with Inej, I expected you to be there longer,” Jesper chuckled, leaning down and grabbing a shirt and pants for the night, but upon heading towards the bathroom, Y/N stopped him, hand on his chest. His eyes shifted down to their hand, then lifted to lock on their lips.

“You wanna come down to the pool?” Their voice was quiet, their own eyes on Jesper’s lips as well. Jesper said nothing, his hand moving to Y/N’s hand on his chest and pulling them to him, his lips connecting with theirs. While Y/N had been gone, Jesper had time to think of his feelings. His apprehensiveness to the one bed. The shared room. It was all because of fear. Fear his feelings would be revealed, but after what Nina had told him days before - “Y/N looks at you like you’re the only thing in the world Jesper.” - He knew he could finally take this step.

Y/N’s eyes shut immediately, fingers moving through Jesper’s wet hair as they were pulled back towards the one bed. The kiss was demanding, needy. Like neither of them had kissed someone in years. Centuries, even. Desire coursed through the two of them. That intimate desire to be close. “Screw the pool,” Y/N murmured, giggling a bit as the two of them fell back onto the bed.

“Screw the pool indeed,” Jesper agreed, his hands finding Y/N’s waist, holding his hands there as they fell back. His lips reconnected with theirs, preparing to flip the two, Jesper wrapped his arm fully around Y/N’s waist, but the knock on the door stopped them.

“Inej,” Y/N murmured, pulling away and walking to the door, opening it and seeing the other Crows there.

“We’re waiting on you!” Nina exclaimed, excited to relax for the night, even if it was just for a few hours. They all needed it. Y/N nodded, entering the room once more with a scoff. So much for screwing the damn pool. There was someone else they wanted to screw though. Clearing their throat, they grabbed their swim stuff, looking down at Jesper who was still on the bed, clearly upset.

“Come on, we can make them pay for that later,” Y/N offered, raising a brow. Jesper rolled his eyes, but nodded in agreement, taking Y/N’s hand as they extended it. When they arrived at the pool, the other’s had already begun their fun, Kaz sitting in one of the chairs, drawings of the heist in front of him, glasses on as if he was watching over his children. His crow children. Inej being the only exception.

[niskoo]

Memories kept in the pink hoodie

pairing: Ex! Heeseung x reader

genre: angst, fluff in the end ig, breakup! AU

warnings: swearing, uhhh they like break down together

word count: 2.2k words OMG

a/n: another one of my requests!! thank you all for the ideas its really helping!! mmm this one was very interesting to write because i usually write crack/fluff, aaannndd ive literally never done anything ive written IURHWIU thank you for the great idea anon <33 THIS HELPED SO MUCH OMG USUALLY MY ANGST SUCKS BUT IM PRETTY PROUD OF THIS AAAA ALSO IM SORRY IF THIS WASNT REALLY WHAT YOU WANTED IDK THERE ALWAYS HAS TO BE FLUFF IN MY IMAGINES IG 😓😭

feel free to request and help get rid of my writers block!!

a bit based off of 'try again' by jaehyun and d.ear

You should've known the consequences of dating an idol, you should've been careful. Of course they wouldn't let you be together, he's in one of the rising groups, heck, he was in one of the biggest companies.

It wasn't necessarily the company's fault you were so heartbroken, it's both your faults. You couldn't help but blame each other for how careless you were. You know better than to make things worse, and yet you did.

The evening you go back to his dorm after being confronted by the company, you two started a huge argument of who's fault it was. Either it was his fault for not taking caution during work, or your fault for always checking up on him. All loving actions in the past became reasons for why you should break up, thus cracking your relationship further.

When you went home that night, with your backpack full of your things, you did nothing. You didn't cry, you didn't rage, you simply thought that this was the end, you felt guilty that it had to end like this, instead of just working it out and breaking it off peacefully.

Your heart was left cracked and hurt for sure, but this time, you blame yourself. You shouldn't have met him, you shouldn't have got to know him, it's all your fault. And for the first time that night, you cry.

Your heart clenched at every thought of having to leave Heeseung, more tears falling at the fact that he's not gonna be a part of your life anymore. He's gone, and it's all your fault.

It's when you unpack your things when you realize you still have a bunch of things left at his place, you realize you never want to go back and face him.

You leave your stuff there for the next 2 days, your heart still unready to confront and be reminded of the fact that Heeseung is gone. Unfortunately, he has other plans.

Your phone lights up, and the last name you want to see is lighting the phone up.

'Hey... you left some of your stuff.'

You instantly turn your phone off, breaths picking up as you quickly look away from it and finish your lunch. You can feel the anxiety filling your body as you notice it light up once again, and it swarms in your chest even more when your mother winces at the next text.

You put down your spoon, quickly glancing at the text.

'If you want, you can come by and pick them up? I'll pack them for you...'

Your heart clenches yet once again, you know it's true, literally half your stuff is still there and you have to pick them up. You unlock your phone, quickly sending an 'okay' before completely shutting your phone down. You wouldn't stand a second more looking at his contact.

You decide to go at 11, because that's when the other members are at the company training. You don't know if Heeseung's gonna be there to give you your things, a part of you hopes he is, another hopes he's not there. But then again, who else would open the door for you?

You stand outside the familiar door nervously, picking on your nails and the lint on the hem of your cardigan. Just as you were about to knock, the door swung open, and instead of your ex boyfriend standing there it's the youngest of the group, his eyes wide and puffy lips parted.

As usual, he woke up late. You can't help but chuckle as he picks his shoes up and scurries down the stairs, bidding him a friendly goodbye.

You almost forget about Heeseung, but as you hear shuffling from inside, it all comes back.

You two share awkward glances, the tension slowly building itself back up. Instead of the heated, rage filled tension, this time the tension is guilty, and without each other knowing, yearning.

“T-this way,” Heeseung mutters tightly, eyes glued to the ground as he shuffled quickly to the living room. You follow along just a few seconds later, still processing the fact that this is the end. He could be gone out of your life after this, it’s your last chance to speak.

Your eyes slowly travel up when you stop, the beating of your heart quickening with the slight burning in your eyes. Lo and behold, there your things laid, ready for you to bring back home. You can’t help but notice how it’s packed completely how Heeseung would pack, neat and with care. It’s not too stuffed, it’s in the perfect place.

Biting at the dead skin of your lip, you trudge towards the duffle bag—his duffle bag—and kneel down to grab the handle. The moment you pick it up, you notice how the bag isn’t fully zipped, and a certain pink sleeve peaks out from the tiny space.

All too familiar, the pink sleeve was. It was the one he took from Daniel in I-land. He knew you loved it, for you loved the kid like your little brother. But, he can’t. It’s his, it’s his favorite, he can’t just give it to his ex.

You instantly place the bag down, the tears starting to well up in frustration and sadness. You zip open the bag and take the pink hoodie out, before shoving it into Heeseung’s chest, “Take it, Heeseung, Please don’t give it to me.”

It takes him a few moments, before Heeseung is shaking his head and handing it back to you. “No, it’s practically yours anyway. And you really like it right? It’s just a-“

“Don’t tell me it’s just a hoodie!”

You both are shocked at your sudden burst, frozen in your spot. Your breathing is heavy, like a weight is holding it down and slowing your breathing. There are tears keeping your cheek moist, warm, they stream down continuously, the sensation as if there was fire dripping from your eyes and burning your skin.

Heeseung’s just on the verge of crying himself, the grip on the pink hoodie deathly, he feels the material ripping against his skin. How did it come to this? When did it even happen? It all feels surreal, to think what you two had could fall apart.

All the happy moments in your relationship fading to memories, the hoodie representing the fact itself is true. None of you wanted to take it, afraid it would remind you of the other.

Deep down, you wanted to keep it, keep the memories it held, keep the tears that once soaked it when you vented all your stress to him, keep the scent of Heeseung that lingered on the fabric. You were just too afraid of being reminded that along with the happy memories, came the sad memories of the night you fought and broke it off.

Your grip on the poor hoodie eases, as you slide to the floor helplessly with tears messing your face up. You desperately wanted to hold the pink piece of clothing and keep it forever, and another part of you cursed at you for being too vulnerable.

Your hand quickly wipes away the tears on your cheeks and chin harshly, almost hitting yourself for being so sensitive. Before you could do the action again, a softer grasp is stopping your hand, Heeseung’s other hand reaching up to brush the tears away dearly, blowing your hair away from your face.

Before you could even bring yourself to stop, you’re already reacting to his touch, cowering into his hold and placing your hand over his on your cheek, almost intertwining them together.

“I’m sorry,” you whisper into his palm, your other hand reaching up to grasp at his t-shirt. You’re sorry for so many reasons, for not being careful, for all the things you said in the argument, for making a sudden commotion just because of a stupid hoodie. “I’m so sorry...”

“Shh, it’s alright, it’s alright.” Heeseung grabs you into his infamous embrace you would hate to leave, stroking your back with patterns just the way he knew you loved, just the way it would calm you down. “We’ll be alright.”

More tears fall between your eyelashes, dripping and soaking into Heeseung’s shoulder as he himself sniffles quietly into your hair. None of you want to leave each other behind, it’s the painful truth that you both can’t have, the truth you’ve always feared.

A sudden feeling of relief fills you up inside, his words reassure you in a way, we’ll be alright, you’ll be okay, it just had to leave his lips for you to believe it. You crawl closer to Heeseung, squeezing yourself in his bear hug, “We’ll be okay, we can make it right,”

A hoarse and hearty laugh leaves Heeseung, it shakes right by your ear as you press it against his chest, and he nods, “Yeah,”

He gently pulls your head back right in front of his, wiping the last of your tears and tucking the stray hairs back to the back of your ear, “Let’s just talk,” his whisper tickles your nose, causing you to lightly giggle at the feeling, his lips pressing softly against the pink tinted skin, “Make everything better?”

You nod, finally grasping at the pink hoodie and holding it tight to your chest as Heeseung laughs and bonks his forehead right on yours.

For the next few hours, you talk, make up, talk some more, maybe even a small cuddle, but that’s a secret. You make ramen for when the other members come back from practice, you feel happy to see the members thank you and eat with enthusiasm, you feel glad this is how your last moments together last.

Now you have the (practically ripped) pink hoodie in your arms as you bid the boys goodbye, slightly tearing up at the sight of them sadly waving, but you keep it in and continue your way back home, where you would tell your mom how you ended it on good terms.

And that night, you slip on the pink hoodie before you sleep, and you feel a piece of paper poking at your arm. You’re surprised to see a crumpled envelope poking out, your name written messily in blue ink.

You pull the envelope out quickly, opening it out with something bubbling in the pit of your stomach as you notice the handwriting as Heeseung’s.

‘My dear Y/n,

Hello there! I don’t know if i got the guts to make it right with you or if i pussied out and watched you as you drove away with regrets, but that’s what this letter is for. hopefully you didn’t throw this letter away hehe

i just wanted to thank you. for everything. your love, your care, your trust, Your happiness, thank you for everything you’ve given me. im sorry we had to end our journey, but know that you’ll be in my mind everyday. when we practice, I’ll remember your encouraging smile, when we win, I'll remember the fact that it’s you who gave me the courage to start this whole career.

i love you y/n. we’ll both probably find our other person in the future, but you’ll forever be in my heart as my first love, my first heartbreak, my best memory. thank you for helping me through my hardest times, thank you for helping the other boys through their worst times, especially jungwon, he’ll miss you the most.

i guess this is goodbye, y/n. not forever, of course, but for some time. thank you for everything, i hope you enjoyed the times we had together as much as i did.

with all the love in my heart,

Lee Heeseung :)’

You wipe at your tears for the nth time that day, folding the paper back into the envelope. “Fuck you Heeseung, you’ve ruined my makeup again!” You curse under your breath as you slip the letter into a certain box at the corner of your bedside table, patting your cheeks one last time.

You truly cherish the memories you had with Heeseung. You hope he does too.

[succulentsunrise]

A Chance of Courage

- Small talks, small actions and small decisions lead to something momentous.

My piece for the YamiChar Week, Day 2! It is both a stand-alone and a continuation to my Day 1 fic 🥰

Edit: I've added a small directory!

Day 1 | All | Day 3

It is funny how sometimes even the smallest things can become an obsession in one’s mind. For Charlotte Roselei, this was the meeting she had had with Yami Sukehiro in the gardens a week prior. A cordial, common meeting - but the substance of it empty. Her mind kept replaying that meeting, her heart aching and leaping into conclusions. She knew that the more she thought about it, the more she was adding things into the scene. More meaningful stares. More subtle hints. The reality was probably something more reasonable.

“Sis?” Sol’s voice woke her up from her thoughts.

Charlotte turned towards the younger woman, straightening her back and trying to concentrate on her surroundings. They were sitting together outside, in the garden. Ah - that was why her thoughts had turned to the meeting again. The thought distracted her once more. She was in some aspect conscious that Sol was talking to her, but she found it difficult to concentrate on that. Sharing a moment like this with Yami would be impossible. He wasn’t the type of man to sit outside and read poetry. Charlotte liked poetry. It was proper and beautiful and oh - so romantic. She blinked, trying to listen to Sol again. What a beautiful morning it was…

“Sis, you’re not listening.”

The accusation wasn’t without reason, causing Charlotte to look slightly embarrassed and apologetic. She spoke gently, her eyes lowering down to the poetry book on her lap.

“My apologies, Sol.”

“What’s on your mind?” Sol asked, her young face painted with curiosity.

It would be too embarrassing to tell. Too difficult to tell to Sol. Charlotte shook her head with a small smile.

“I was wondering what inspired these authors to write so beautifully,” she lied.

“They probably couldn’t say what they wanted out loud, y’know,” Sol laughed with a grin.

Charlotte considered her for a moment. Sol was a vibrant person, full of life and brashness. She didn’t stop to consider things yet. She lived in the moment. Charlotte knew Sol looked up to her. Sol was still easily impressionable. Any opinion Charlotte presented, she echoed louder and coarser. Yes, Sol wasn’t refined, not like a noble. Perhaps it was what endeared her to Charlotte. Perhaps she liked coarse people. People like Sol and Yami. They both disarmed the wall of thorns she had built in her quest for control over her own magic.

They probably couldn’t say what they wanted out loud.

Charlotte found it a rather apt remark. Perhaps she should write one? No. Yami wouldn’t understand anything about poetry, and in any case, it would be rather too embarrassing. It was already embarrassing to try to come to terms with the fact that the ruffian had stolen her heart. With a sigh, Charlotte shook her head.

“You do not admire the ingeniousness of the poets,” she remarked to Sol. “Perhaps because you always have the right words for everything.”

Sol laughed a little more, its gay sound ringing in the air.

“I’ve got the words, alright, but sometimes they come out wrong! Or sometimes I mean to say something, but I say something else instead, something that I wasn’t supposed to say at all!”

“That’s because you speak quicker than you think,” Charlotte suggested, turning back to her poetry book.

Sol didn’t seem to mind her comment, and instead returned to her own project. She had decided to try embroidering on Charlotte’s insistence. So far, she seemed to be somewhat frustrated by the actual process, though delighted by the results.

Later that evening, Charlotte visited the marketplace at the Royal Capital. She never quite liked these trips. There were too many shouts, too many men staring, too many awed sighs. She steeled her face into a cold stare to keep people from approaching her and simply strode towards her destination: an antiquarian bookshop. It was a gold mine for old poetry books, and she had become a regular there by now. Her visit there was simple and sweet. The shopkeeper recommended a new arrival - a rather old poetry book by a rather old poet. Flipping through the pages, Charlotte had approved of its contents and taken it. Then, business concluded, she left. As she glanced around herself on the road, her gaze picked up a familiar figure far in the distance. The combination of dark hair, black cloak and the relaxed style of walking was impossible to not recognize. Yami. Next to him was one of his subordinates - Charlotte couldn’t quite remember his name. She considered for a moment going after them and talking, but her pride won over. She wouldn’t know what to say. In any case, it was too embarrassing, running after a man. Charlotte turned to the opposite direction, deciding to take the long way home. This time she tried specifically not to think of Yami. She avoided the parks of the Royal Capital with the exact purpose of not remembering their meeting. She kept the poetry book she had just bought out of her sight and she stopped herself from wondering about what Yami was doing here. She tried to concentrate on the other people wandering around: a group of young girls giggling and whispering in a group, several workers sitting together on a break, young children running across the street…

It was an impulse that made Charlotte stop at a street food vendor. She wasn’t especially hungry, but it had passed enough time from the last time she had eaten. A sweet smell had caught her attention, and the sight of the first berries of the year had enthralled her. She happily bought a snack and found herself a place nearby to eat it. Then, Charlotte sunk to her thoughts once more. She should’ve taken Sol with, most likely. Sol would’ve liked such a sweet snack. It’d be difficult to take one with, though. Would it stay good - and if she took one, wouldn’t she need to buy the whole squad some? No, it was too much trouble. Charlotte leaned her face to her hand and sighed. She’d just have to bring Sol here some other time. She couldn’t take the whole squad. For now she would just enjoy the atmosphere of the city, eat her little snack and go home. There were still some reports to be written. Charlotte’s thoughts became immediately busy with planning. She’d first write that one, then turn to the mission business - and then there was that case of misconduct from one of the girls. Yes, that would be very important to investigate. She would make sure there was something in that accusation before she’d let it slip through her fingers.

A series of voices caught Charlotte’s attention as she pondered her duties.

“--it’s great for all tastes, Captain!” a warm, insistent tone explained, half-apologetic, half-excited. “You could bring anyone here and they’d find what they’d like!”

The young man speaking was dressed in greens - Charlotte recognized him immediately as that subordinate of Yami’s. Her gaze moved quickly next to the man. Yes, Yami was with him. Scratching the back of his neck as he was squinting at the street vendor’s food, he seemed unimpressed and unwilling to be there.

“Just get what you want, and let’s go,” she heard Yami grunt.

It was clear they were here because of the subordinate. Somehow, while Charlotte had tried to avoid them, they had run to Charlotte. She felt a slight flush come to her face. Yami moved away from the vendor, waiting at the side for the subordinate to pick what he wanted. Charlotte stood up, impulse taking over. Several things jumped in her mind: the meeting, the fact that poets couldn’t say what they wanted, the fact that Yami was right there and that Yami was coarse like Sol, and that Sol spoke quicker than she thought. They didn’t make much sense like that, but they were what drove Charlotte to walk up to Yami.

“Oh, hey.”

Yami’s greeting expressed his surprise well. The eyes that stared at her were shrouded in that dumb gaze. Charlotte spoke fast and breathily, forgetting to draw air while speaking. She didn’t want the subordinate to hear.

“I was wondering if you’d meet me tomorrow evening.”

“Tomorrow?”

Yami’s gaze flickered to the skies. He scratched his cheek.

“Look at you,” he then answered, and Charlotte could swear there was a playful twinkle in his eyes. “Sure.”

“Tomorrow then. Let’s say at six, at the--”

“--at the Grove,” Yami interrupted with a smirk.

Charlotte’s composure faltered, the stream of words sputtering to an end. She felt her face become fully red as she tried to regain her ability to speak. The Grove? It wasn’t the one she had planned to suggest, but it was an alright dining place. Not as fine as she had thought of - but it wasn’t that big of a deal. Perhaps because she hadn’t planned it out properly yet. From the corner of her eye, she saw Yami’s subordinate turn to look for his captain. She didn’t want him to see this.

“Cat got your tongue? The establishment not good enough?” Yami teased.

Yes, it was teasing. Charlotte could recognize it, even when his expression looked hurt and insulted. He had perfected that look.

“It’s fine,” Charlotte muttered, embarrassed and caught off-guard.

Yami smiled.

It was a smug smile.

Charlotte whirled around and went back to where she had been sitting, picking up her things and leaving with her half-eaten snack. She couldn’t bear to stay there any longer. No, she needed to go and work on the reports.

That was - if she could concentrate on them after this.

[lady-of-the-lotus]

Xuexiao Goes to the DMV

Xue Yang and Xiao Xingchen go to the DMV (aka Where Hope Goes To Die) and share a kiss.

That’s it. That’s the fic.

Xuexiao - T (just for some cursing) - Read on AO3!

*

“If you hear about someone going berserk in a DMV on the news, that’ll be me,” the mechanical text-to-speech voice reads aloud, and Xiao Xingchen turns to Xue Yang questioningly.

Xue Yang reaches over and turns the volume down on Xingchen’s phone. “Meant to send that to A-Qing.”

“Are we going to be escorted out? Again?”

Xue Yang grins and looks around the room. They’ve already been at the DMV for over an hour. Dozens of people are draped limply over the hard orange seats, eyes glazed, going down for the third time in a sea of government bureaucracy.

“Ticket 4352, now being served at window thirty-three,” announces the robotic voice over the loudspeaker.

“It would take an alien invasion to wake these people up,” Xue Yang says as a man in overalls shuffles past. “You should see these people. This must be what a lobotomy post-op recovery room looks like.”

“Mmhmm.”

“Like the world’s most incompetent deli, filled with zombie customers waiting to eat the brains of whatever the opposite of employee of the month is. Well, ‘brains.’ They work at the DMV, after all.”

Xiao Xingchen adjusts his sunglasses. “Let's not be mean.”

“And we can all hear you,” adds a woman on his left. “Not that it made much sense.”

Xue Yang makes a face at her and turns back to Xingchen. “If they make me come back a third time, I’m going to go postal. You know, going postal should be called ‘going DMV.’ It’s catchier, for one thing, and I’ve never so much as stepped foot in a post office—”

“I’m keeping you far away from post offices. Those poor people have suffered enough.”

“How so?”

“Well, there must be a reason they go postal, right?”

Xue Yang rolls his eyes. “If the post office has the same taste in music as the DMV, I don’t blame them. Who picked this station? If it’s not Justin Bieber it’s whoever inflicted ‘Kiss Me Through the Phone’ on the world. I’d like to do something to them through the phone, and it won’t be a kiss, I can tell you that much.”

Xiao Xingchen takes a Snickers bar out of the fanny pack Xue Yang has vainly begged him not to wear. “According to the television commercials, this will improve your mood.”

“My mood?” Xue Yang takes a bite. “If I have to hear ‘Baby’ one more time—”

“Ticket 9753, now being served at window fourteen.”

“ ‘Served.’ Ha. As if.”

Xiao Xingchen feels around for another Snickers bar but comes up empty. He should have planned this better. He’d sensed Xue Yang’s mood coming on last night as Xue Yang went through his documents. He’d been cheerful enough until he found his birth certificate in the bundle of papers he’d been given after leaving his last group home.

Then he’d grown strangely quiet, and wandered aimlessly around their apartment for an hour, carrying his phone around with him and switching between a half-dozen different YouTube videos before deciding to bake brownies at 1am and burning them when he got distracted playing video games. He wasn’t paying much attention to the video game, either, going by his cursing as he got repeatedly blown up by what Xingchen suspects was a twelve-year old somewhere in Japan, and eventually gave that up to go take apart their toaster in the interest of “fixing” it.

Now he sits beside Xingchen, jiggling his leg. Xiao Xingchen wants to ask him about his birth certificate, but he hadn't dared to last night, and doesn’t dare now.

“Ticket 9755, now being served at Window 26.”

“Weren’t you 9754?” he asks Xue Yang.

“Oh, crap—” Xue Yang jumps to his feet and rushes to Window 26, brushing past a mohawked man holding a ticket marked 9755. “I’m 9754.”

The woman behind the glass may as well have been carved from wood. “You missed your number.”

“There was no announcement!”

“Or your number isn’t working. It’s not showing up on my computer.”

“What the hell does that mean? I’m on the screen! Look!” Xue Yang jabs a finger at the screen above the booth. At the bottom of the list it reads Ticket 9754 – Window 26. “9754! Window 26! All you need to do is take my picture—”

“Get back in line. Get a new ticket. Window 13.”

“Get back in line?” He looks over at the line for Window 13. It wraps around the entire room. “I already have a number! I’m on the screen!”

“Back. In. Line.”

“Just take the damn photo—”

Xingchen lays a hand on his arm. “Thank you, ma’am. We’ll get back in line.”

“Like hell we will! I’ve been here since 5 o’clock—I made an appointment! I even brought my own pen! You ever watch Monsters Inc.? You know Roz? Are you her evil older sister? Because you look exactly like—”

“Back of the line.”

“Younger sister, then. Happy?”

The woman doesn’t bother shrugging. “You’re blocking traffic.”

Xingchen begins to move, heading in the wrong direction. Xue Yang has no choice but to follow or else let him walk into a column plastered with posters emblazoned with, Make your visit easy - download the forms at dmv.gov! , Streamline your visit - make an appointment online today!, and We’re here to help!

“Let’s just go home,” says Xue Yang. “The gray, water stained walls are starting to close in. At any second I expect a giant ball to roll towards us. Well, wrong movie—whatever. I’m sick of this place. It’s cursed.”

“We’re just going to have to come back, and you’ll have wasted the hour we already spent here.”

Xue Yang groans and gets in line behind a woman with three small screaming children. “This whole thing is stupid. We can barely afford rent, let alone a car."

"We will, one day. Besides, it's good to have a license."

"We’ll just take trains and buses everywhere, or you can learn to drive. We'll fudge the vision test."

Xingchen laughs. Xue Yang relaxes slightly at the sound. After a moment, Xingchen slips his hand in his. He’s not one for public displays of affection, but there’s an edge in Xue Yang’s voice that has nothing to do with his return to Window 13.

Xue Yang’s hand tightens in his, and Xingchen rubs it reassuringly with his thumb.

“You again?” says the woman at Window 13 when they finally make it there, twenty minutes later.

“That power-mad dictator at Window 26 wouldn’t take my picture.”

The woman tilts her head at Xue Yang. “She wouldn’t?”

Xue Yang tilts his head back at her, as if to say, I know! Who wouldn’t want to photograph me ?

She smiles, a synthetic smile that reminds Xue Yang of his friend Lan Xichen’s dimpled little fiance. “Strange.”

“ ‘Strange’? I knew she could have just done it had she wanted to—”

The woman blinks at him, her smile growing faker by the minute. “I’m sure what she told you was accurate.”

“Sure, and there is no war in Ba-Sing-Se—”

Xiao Xingchen squeezes his hand, and Xue Yang stops talking and passes her his form. She stamps it a second time and hands him another ticket.

He and Xingchen return to the waiting area. Xue Yang puts his boots up on the seat next to him, resting his head on Xingchen’s shoulder.

“Describe the room to me again,” Xingchen says, trying to distract him from his brooding and, with any luck, keep him from taking out his Swiss army knife and carving his initials into the seat and get them kicked out again. Xue Yang has a talent for describing things, and Xingchen has been trying to encourage him to start writing.

Xue Yang begins to play with his long sleek ponytail. “Purgatory’s antechamber. Humanity’s lost-and-found. A void where time has no meaning. Pit of despair and industrial cleaner.”

Xingchen chuckles, making sure it’s loud enough for Xue Yang to hear.

“If their posters were honest, they’d all be in Comic Sans font, with things like, Where hope goes to die; This is your home now; Nothing escapes our pull, not even time; Human sacrifices while you wait—”

“Human sacrifices?”

"Yeah, I think so."

A crackle of static over the speaker as a new song comes on. “You know you love me, I know you care...Just shout whenever and I'll be there….”

Xue Yang starts up violently, but Xiao Xingchen gently pulls him back down beside him. “Some kind of cannibal conspiracy?” he asks, hoping Xue Yang’s knife has remained in his pocket and is not seconds away from being embedded in a blaring loudspeaker.

Xue Yang settles back against his shoulder. “I’m positive Overalls Guy never returned from Window 17. He’s probably in the office barbecue pit.”

“This must go all the way to the top. Shift supervisor too, I’d guess.”

“Baby, baby, baby oh….Like baby, baby, baby no….”

Xue Yang stops playing with his hair and starts picking at his black nail polish. He’s feeling a bit better, Xingchen’s shoulder warm and solid. “I swear that Roz lady put a curse on me. They all probably dance in a circle around a stack of burning Social Security cards every night, chanting.” He squirms, suddenly bored. “You got any more food? I’m starving.”

Xingchen rummages in his fanny pack. “Just a burned brownie.”

“I swear I set a timer!"

The timer had gone off while Xingchen was in the shower last night. Xue Yang had simply ignored it, too absorbed in trying to virtually blow up his twelve-year-old nemesis. He tends to ignore timers while cooking, usually followed by a mad rush to the kitchen to salvage dinner. “You know dinner is ready when the smoke detector goes off,” he likes to say.

Xue Yang sniffs the crumpled foil surrounding the charred black brownie chunk. “Is this the same foil I wrapped your tuna sandwich in yesterday?”

“We only have one earth!”

“Xingchen, I swear—” Xue Yang stops, rolling his eyes fondly. He’s never met anyone who can be so annoying and endearing at the same time.

Xingchen takes the brownie back. “I'll eat it. I like the burned bits.”

"It's all burned bits."

"Exactly. Perfect."

“She knows she's got me dazing, 'cause she was so amazin'....And now my heart is breakin', but I just keep on sayin'....”

“Who wrote this? I swear I won’t hurt them. I just want their address.”

Xingchen knows he shouldn’t laugh at that, but he can’t help it.

They sit there for another half hour, talking. Xue Yang has succeeded in denuding the nails of his left hand when his number is finally called. He gets his photo taken by a man with glazed eyes and no chin, and is shuffled off to the next waiting area.

“They refused to show me my photo,” he says as they settle back down. “I swear the camera stole my soul and is using it to power the fluorescent lights. I feel at peace now. Kind of floating.” He discovers a piece of gum in his jeans pocket and begins to loudly blow bubbles, making full eye contact with the annoyed Bluetooth Guy and irritated Woman With Facial Tattoo Of Bugs Bunny. “I am one with the DMV demigods, part of something larger than myself.”

“Like joining the army.”

“Or drowning in the ocean.” He lays down with his head in Xingchen’s lap, boots on the edge of Bluetooth Guy’s seat. “Why does your fanny pack smell like patchouli? Have you been burning weird hippie incense again? You promised you’d stop after you set fire to your curtains.”

Xingchen would rather Xue Yang didn’t semi-cuddle him in public, but Xue Yang’s energy is calmer when he’s touching Xingchen, and he lets him stay. “It’s that new candle you bought me, remember?”

“Right. Bought you.”

“What do you—”

“I thought it was peppermint.”

Xingchen bites his lip. Xue Yang is…well, he can read well enough to pass a driving test, but his education was…slipshod at best. Next on Xingchen’s list is encouraging Xue Yang to get his GED.

“You smell like a music festival,” says Xue Yang. “I must have grabbed the wrong one in the store. I sniffed all of them. My picture is probably hanging beside the register of every Bath & Body Works in town: ‘Beware the Candle Perv’—”

“At least someone was willing to take your picture.”

Xue Yang laughs. Xingchen rests a hand on his chest, heedless of the people around them. He likes how Xue Yang feels when he laughs, his whole body shaking, making no attempt to hide his feelings. Xue Yang makes him laugh so often, it’s a special joy for him to return the favor.

They’ve been there almost two and a half hours when Xue Yang’s number is finally called. As if the DMV curse is kicking in again, the loudspeakers creep up another few decibels.

“Like baby, baby, baby no, like baby, baby, baby oh, thought you'd always be mine, mine….”

“Xue Yang—” Xingchen starts before Xue Yang can say anything.

“I know, I know. This is penance for my putting that egg in Song Lan’s shoe last week. The DMV knows all. The DMV was here before us, and will be here after we are gone. The DMV—”

“—The DMV will make us wait in line again, if we don’t hurry.”

Together they go to Window 10, where a drab little man sifts through Xue Yang’s documents. “Fifties, balding, completely dead inside,” Xue Yang whispers to Xingchen.

“I’m thirty-nine,” says the man in a monotone, not looking up, “and you’re missing a birth certificate. And what’s this stain on your Social Security card?”

“Definitely not blood.”

The man stares at him with eyes that, had his life force not already been sucked out of Xue Yang by an afternoon at the DMV, would have done the job. “Current passport, or birth certificate.”

Xue Yang hesitates, then slips a folded piece of pink paper under the glass partition.

The man unfolds it with the sterling speed of a drugged snail and spreads it over the counter. He lines up Xue Yang’s Social Security card, bank statement, and birth certificate, and examines them line by line as if he’s a Bletchley Circle analyst and Xue Yang’s documents are intercepted enemy transmissions.

He looks up at Xue Yang. “Is this a valid birth certificate? There are no parent names listed, and the date of birth has an asterisk—”

“I know what it has!”

“What’s your date of birth?” The man slowly pushes his chair back. “I’m going to have to get a supervisor—”

Xue Yang slams the counter. Xingchen lays a hand on his arm. It’s a miracle Xue Yang’s knife isn’t out. “Don’t you fucking dare! This is what they do when—just Google it, okay? I don’t know what day I was born, they just put whatever date they thought was accurate—”

Xingchen swallows hard.

He had known Xue Yang had grown up in foster care, but had assumed he had been given up by his parents as a child when they could no longer take care of him.

Not—not abandoned as an infant—

“And change the fucking station!” Xue Yang adds. “If I have to hear that stupid fucking song one more time I will go fucking berserk —”

The man’s dead-eyed stare intensifies. “Sign here,” he says after a moment, pushing a slip of paper at Xue Yang.

“You want my love, you want my heart….And we will never, ever, ever be apart…”

“That wasn’t so bad, was it?” Xingchen asks as they step outside. The words sound hollow, and he wishes he had simply remained silent.

Xue Yang takes a deep breath. It’s almost cool out, a welcome change from the week’s heat. “Well, we escaped. Now we just have to get help for the others. Or do we abandon them to their fates? I vote we abandon them. You should have seen some of the looks I got. It’s like they never saw someone threaten a DMV employee before, something I’m willing to bet happens a dozen times an hour.”

Xingchen takes his arm as he begins to walk. It’s easier than using his stick in the crowded city. “Xue Yang…”

Xue Yang’s muscles tense beneath his arm. “What?”

“Nothing.” He bites his lip. He’ll have Xue Yang feeling better soon enough. “What street are we on? Turn in on 33rd.”

“What’s on 33rd?”

“Just let me know when we’re there. 33rd and 7th.”

“The train’s on 36th.”

“But the restaurant’s on 33rd.”

“The what?”

Xingchen wants to smile, but is afraid Xue Yang might take it the wrong way after what happened at the DMV. For someone who does his best to project an I-don’t-care attitude, Xue Yang is surprisingly sensitive.

“What’s today’s date?” He already knows the date, of course. It’s been on his mind for weeks now.

Xue Yang’s arm grows even stiffer. “Is this a ‘you-don’t-know-when-your-birthday-is-so-every-day-is-your-birthday’ thing? Because—”

“Not at all… Remember the day we met? You made fun of my shirt—”

Xue Yang frowns at this sudden change of subject, but goes along with it. Better than talking about that damn birth certificate. “It was white, and ruffled. You looked like an escapee from a high school production of Hamlet. What was I supposed to do?”

“You crashed a motorcycle not three feet from me. An unregistered motorcycle with stolen plates.”

"I bought you coffee to make up for it, didn’t I?”

“You had them put four sugars in my cappuccino. It was undrinkable.”

“One was a Splenda, and anyway I took you to dinner to make up for the coffee, didn’t I?”

“Pizza at one of those dollar-a-slice places you have to stand at a counter to eat. I paid for it.”

“And I paid for your kombucha, whatever the heck that is.”

“And I paid for the band-aids we had to go buy after you cut yourself after playing catch with your knife.”

“You were distracting me!”

“I was quietly eating my pizza.”

“The light reflecting off your shirt ruffles got in my eyes.”

“Four dollars for the band-aids. You insisted on Hello Kitty.”

“Spongebob was also on the table." He wrinkles his nose. "I've got about three-fifty in my pocket, if you want it. But what’s your point, exactly?'

Xingchen smiles. He enjoys winding up Xue Yang, and it’s by far the most effective way to distract him when he’s in a dark mood. “Just that you better not put extra sugar in the fondue.”

“The what?”

“A-Qing read me the dessert menu. Chocolate fondue with bananas, blueberries, pineapple, and cherries. Strawberries, too, I think, and marshmallows, maybe even non-charred brownies—”

Xue Yang stops walking. “Xingchen—”

Xingchen lets go of Xue Yang’s arm, takes his hand instead. Kisses him soundly, right there on Sixth Avenue.

“Forget your birthday," he says. "We have a new date to celebrate every year." He gives Xue Yang's hand a little squeeze and kisses him again. “Happy anniversary, Xue Yang.”

*

Liked it? AO3 👉👈

Ruffle shirt reference

Obviously, Xue Yang was simply distracted by how pretty Xingchen was.

[jean-does-not-have-a-horseface]

Hello!! Could you please write an scenario where Levi got hurt (not badly) during an expedition but he refuses to go to the nursery when they got back, making the reader worried for him so she asks if she can tend to his injuries and he lets them? (Maybe while she's at it they kiss if u want) Just some care for our Levi:)) Sorry if my English isn't good, it's not my main language

Yoooo that was a rather hot thing to write 👀👀👀👀 I hope you enjoy, also, don't worry about your English. In fact English isn't my first language either❤️

Pairing: Levi/ Reader

Tags: fluffity fluff, smooches, slurpy hot smooches, yes I'm doing God's work, awkward Levi brrr

The Moon Is Full, I Guess

It was outdated at this point. Your hand clenched in a fist probing onto the dark mahogany door, the beating of your heart that throbbed inside your chest as the though of the person on the other side of the wall swirled through your mind, your ratched breaths, gulped by the lump in your throat, everything was tiring, dull.

The feeling was embarrassing and overwhelming. They way it overtook you, they way it threw you off tracks at his mere presence was causing anger to dwell in the pits of your stomach. But even if you had to look past that, you couldn't get over yourself for wanting to be of help.

It was an egoistical act before it was a selfless one. You wanted to be the first to reach out to him, you wished to be the only one to help him and you felt disgusted with yourself that your twisted brain created scenarios in which Levi felt enamored by your generosity. But love did that to you. And even if you despairately wanted to fight it, you couldn't realistically pick a fight a feeling.

Because if you could, love would have gotten your fists.

"State your name business."

"It's (y/n)." You puckered your lips as your name sourly slipped out of your mouth.

There wasn't anything that didn't plainly scream mechanical and awkward as Levi's grumpy voice ordered you to state your name and business and you anathematized it, cursing softly under your breath as your shagged, hardened palm reached for the door handle upon hearing the familiar grunt of approval to your request. That was it. The small victory of your ego dwelled inside you, poisoning the spit under your tongue.

You panicked, only momentarily, and only at the thought of a sour breath that tingled on the top of your tongue. Your eyes widened below puckered eyebrows as your mind repeatedly alarmed you of the bitter taste inside your mouth canal. Your cool though wasn't bugged further, with a stern inhale you composed your weaker side in the binds of your fond chest.

"Levi."

You stuck your palms to the door, bum extended on them as you leaned with your back on the wood, your goal to simply shut the door tenderly achieved as you heard the tiny click of the handle. It was your footstep that was heard next, the heel of your boot that clashed with the mahogany tile overpowered Levi's hiss of your name. You simply let your footing roll naturally in trying to approach him, although your lungs, agreeing with the part of your brain that accused you of being a rotting egoist, protested.

"Sit." He hissed and your breath hiccuped.

"No, Levi, I won't." Refusing to sit on the loveseat by his desk you set your fiery gaze onto him. "In fact, I'm not here for any reason you'd like to hear."

The movement of Levi's orbs was adorned with a short blink of his eyelids. It caused you to bite the side of your top lip harshly but your heart was already heaping at the sight by the time you felt your canines dig into the soft piece of flesh. You figured Levi didn't notice, whereas it was usual for him to pick up on any reluctancy in your antics, it seemed as if the pain of his injury overpowered his mind. And somehow, in some twisted way, you were thankful for that.

It meant you couldn't really degrade yourself more to him.

"Why didn't you line up for the infirmary when we arrived? You got injured!" You pouted, (e/c) eyes burning brightly into his.

"There were too many who were heavily injured and needed immediate help. My minor injury is not something anyone should be bothered by, probably a shitty broken rib, I'll be fine if I lay on the low for a while." Levi sighed and kept his voice low as he spoke to you calmly.

He averted his gaze off of you for a moment, his own foot started tapping obnoxiously without any certain rhythm on the floor beneath him. In a nervous movement he run his hand through his hair. There was sulk written on his face after he licked his lips. In an attempt to mask his pain, he even bit his own lip, mimicking your previous actions. Whether you considered this a symbolism or not, was completely up to you.

"You're not serious."

"I'm shit serious."

"I figured you'd deny anything actually, but," you sighed "can you at least let me tend to you?"

You were hesitant as you extended your arm to him, (e/c) eyes meeting his for the upteenth time in such a short period of time. There was no denying; the confidence it took for anyone to handle Levi like was something you didn't lack of, you could blame that for having spent half of your life with him in the underground but your stubbornness made up for that abomination of self respect you had. Thus yet, when you were definitely sure you'd have to pull your empty hand back to your embrassed self his palm confidently clasped over yours and your stubborn stomach immediately started churning in a mixture of emotions.

In only a matter of seconds you felt your head drifting and Levi's gaze somewhat softened as it landed on your linked palms, the man finally deciding to balance his weight between his foot and your grip. You forced your strength to gather on your hand to support him as he slowly got up, never letting his hand go off his side.

Levi's boot missed numerous steps as you took the task of carrying him onto yourself and grunts of pain filled the air with every marching you made towards his private quarter. The small chamber smelled incredibly strong of lemon and vinegar, but you chose to ignore it with a scrunch of your nose. You knew what it meant; Levi had pushed himself to meticulously clean the room in the early morning before the expedition began, probably due to his immense amount of stress and you were in no place to bring it to his attention right now. You shouldn't even try to interfere with anything else other than tending to his injury.

But that tiny little day dreamer in your head refused to let you get through with what you had in mind.

Setting him onto the edge of his bed, you clapped your hands on his thighs in a silent instruction for him to stay put. Levi simply bored his eyes into yours, watching as you bucked on your knees in order to straighten your posture and then marching straight to his dresser. You stopped absurdly, seemingly puzzled as you balanced your weight on your right leg, popping on your hip at the process.

His gunmetal gaze was nervously averted at the sight and his cheeks stung as if a thousand needles were punched through his skin; he felt noticably guilty and vague when he caught himself looking at you in such way. It was definitely something he could manage to hide well, he had figured that much at least, because he didn't want to cause anything awkward to inflict between the two of you.

"Where do you usually keep gauze and bandages?" You inquired, throwing your head over your shoulder to look over to his direction.

"In my underwear drawer, top right corner." As Levi spoke, you puckered your lips, despairate to turn your hot head away from him, setting your goal to find the medical supplies you needed to tend to him.

Turning around in triumph, you suppressed a smug smile from spreading on your face as you held the bundle of bandage tightly in your hand. Levi shot you another bored look followed by a sigh as he pushed his lips in a thin line. You couldn't figure if he seemed disappointed in your actions or he was just as bugged as he'd be most of the time, and your stomach punched the insides of your torso in quick anxiety.

Sitting next to Levi on the bed did nothing to stop your coiling stomach, if anything, it sent your whole body in churning fury. You felt miserable and vague, bringing yourself in this very position, but you couldn't simply resent it in the last moment, it probably would make things look worse for you.

Nevertheless, you let out a sigh and avoided his look as you brought your hands on top of his shoulders, quickly slipping them on the inside of his camel leather jacket and sliding them down his shoulders in order to push the piece of clothing away from him to save him from excessive movements. Levi darted his chin away from your direction as not to have his head collide with yours and you almost let out a hitched breath at that.

"Wait," Levi said as you tagged on the collar of his button down shirt. "I have broken rib, bandaging me up won't do any good."

Your head dropped when he finished speaking, your gut burning in the somehow gory defeat of your ego. You sweared under your breath and onto his clothed collarbone, cussing your silly clouded brain for not even considering his actual injury. Your lungs demanded to punish you by refusing to be satisfied with any oxygen you would try to fill them with and you knew you deserved it for being so engrossed with the thought of taking care of him instead of actually doing so.

"You good, brat?"

"Yeah, I- I'm just stupid aren't I?" You spoke, lifting your chin up to meet with his gaze.

"Once a moron, always a moron." He confirmed, almost playfully.

You fondly inspected the skin on his face and neck, trying to worry your guilty eyes away from his; you felt as if he was reading you like an open book, which he could easily do, yet your chest was dwelled with too much pride to allow him to speak any other word of concern.

Pushing any poisonous thought to the back of your brain you demandingly bit on your lip and pulled a few inches away, just enough so you could directly look into him. With another look at his gunmetal eyes you stopped your next breath from exiting your body, feeling your heart throb inside your whole body. With trembling hands you searched for his, engulfing his short calloused fingers into your palms almost immediately upon your blind discovery.

It was now or never.

Yet, you barely spoke. The inability to utter even the most incoherent sounds was conquering your body, probing you to duel with it in any case you wanted to expose the nature of your feelings. Nevertheless, you stomped your foot on the mahogany floor and furrowed your brows dangerously before you parted your lips. Though the line you chose to utter was supposed to be nothing more than an internal thought.

"Thinking of you is a poison I drink often."

"You into poetry yet or what (y/n)?" Levi blinked his eyes boringly into yours as he spoke, never flinching for even a mere second.

You knew, under any other circumstance you would have burst laughing in his casual sarcasm, but as all air exited the room, you weren't sure you could bring yourself to make another sound.

"The moon is full, I guess," Levi sighed, pulling his hands to his face, causing yours -thst never loosened their grip on him- to tag along. Your pointed and middle fingers delicately hung from the space between his thumb and his face, lingering just enough to make your presence still know to him. "I'm a lost cause. If you're looking for romance that is. That's as much as I can do."

Nervously looking back and forth you contemplated on the meaning of his words for a couple of moments, your heart churning as your mind hazed over every single syllabus he had just spoken.

Reluctantly, and only when you made up your mind, your hands came to loosely cup the sides of his sharp face while the gaze you were set to spared on his lips was hesitant and lingering. Your thumb idled with his cheek in soothingly soft circles as your breaths paced back and forth, forming uneven masses of fog inside the frozen room. Yet despite the jawbreaking cold that smothered the two of you in the well known piercing manner, in this very moment everything around you seemed to have gone extinct. Time was slowing down, just for the two of you.

You didn't know what pushed you to act upon that little flicker in your heart, but your head was immediately sent in vertigo as you felt his pointed button nose bump into yours. Nothing could break that moment, nothing could rip you off him now that your lips were hovering dangerously over his. With your trembling hands you pulled him closer, hoping on closing the gab between the two of you.

Your heart hammered in your chest as you steadily engulfed his bottom lip with your own mouth; you moved mellowy, painfully slow as you tried to warm him up, eliciting occasional whines to come out of your own self. It was painful and overally miserable to think about how you managed to drag the actions of your lips against his but your knees were weak with every passing second as you savored his taste.

There wasn't another way to make Levi understand how this over the border peck ignited every flame you had inside of you, but you wished the looked you spared him as you parted could do the job. His gaze was furiously set on you, eyes blinking hard into yours as if trying to predict your very next move. You couldn't simply leave him hanging; there was hunger in his eyes, you recognised as much because you knew him so damn well, thus as if on cue you pressed your lips to his, briefly.

And then you did it again.

And again.

And once more.

And then, before you could repeat the -now familiar- peck you felt his own hands cup the back of your head and in furious movements you were pulled into him, lips colliding and teeth clashing against eachother. It wasn't a serene kiss just like the ones you shared before, this one was sloppy and raw, it took all the air out of your chest and it made you unable to try and seek for oxygen.

Your head was prohibited from moving freely, yet you were mostly dominating over the kiss. With a speactacularly quick wit you sucked on his lips roughly, passionately enough to make him gasp more than a few times. Pulling away from each other wasn't an option -no- you weren't going to take such dispicable chance, you simply tagged on his shagged raven locks before daring to dart the tip of your tongue out of the crevice of your own mouth.

Levi accepted it eagerly, sending his own tongue to welcome yours inside his mouth, occasionally pressing it into his pallette before guiding it on the underside of your tongue. You couldn't know, but he wished your tongue was longer, long enough to reach deeper, simply because he needed it to. There was no explainatiom as to why he enjoyed such sloppy, saliva dripping kiss, but the way you scouted every single inch of his mouth was exciting to a point of no return.

It was only after letting you win over his mouth completely that he pulled back, his hands finally letting go of their grip on the back of head. You stayed in your position, however unable to move, unable to speak, unable to find enough oxygen to fill your lungs with.

"That much.. Sure I can do." Levi coughed.

You simply moved your orbs towards him, wide in despair and surprised by his unmatched sarcasm. Out of breath and flustered enough to ignore the fact that your brain had completely shut off, you hung your head lower before muttering something about having to bring him a cool pad for his injury. Now, you really needed to tend to him in order to repeat that again.

You couldn't help the enchanted smile that masked your face as your finger grazed over your lip, making sure to mesmerize the tingling sensation that boiled inside your swollen pieces of flesh.

Taglist go off 👉🏻👈🏻: @sasageyowrites (love you thanks for reading half of this hshshshhs and telling me it's good) @nobody-knows-anymore (full credit for the line you sent me to include my dear) @ladyofpandemonium @ackermans-freedom-inc @hawkssnugget @berrijam @callmepromise @alrightberries still am I forgetting anyone :( pls tell me if I forgot you, I only have one brain

[cryptiql]

cherry starbursts

pairing: bakugou/reader (male reader in mind but is gender neutral)

warnings: none, i think?? lots of cussing though, courtesy of lord explosion murder

words: 3.6k

a/n: yuzuya's audios giving me so much brainrot...gonna be thinking about this all week. also the way this started out as god tier writing but gradually turned into shit at the end 🏃 nonetheless, i hope i did this gremlin man justice </3

a contemplative hum tickles your throat as you observe the paragraph laid out before you, the pads of your fingers tingling as you trail them across the pages. on the occasions where you've found your nose nestled deep within them, a muted scent of pears and sawdust would invade your senses, and the urge to rest your head in the plains of your chemistry textbook would become overwhelming. however, the threat of being cuffed over the head by a rolled up magazine makes you think twice about slacking off, so you begrudgingly slump back into your seat with a resigned huff. the clock in your dorm is no doubt ticking away like always; the second hand rounding at great speeds while the minute and hour hands crawl by at a sluggish pace; but you aren't there to hear it.

instead, you reside in bakugou's room, basking in the unencumbered atmosphere created solely by his diligent efforts to keep his space clean and organized. it's just the way he is, you have to remind yourself. not because you stubbed your toe on his dumbbells last week and he felt sufficiently guilty as to make sure nothing was in your path the next time you visited. that would be silly. all that considered, bakugou's room isn't much different from your own—save for the few comfort objects brought from home that give off a hospitable air—but the lack of stimulus it holds is apparent. anything that could disturb your tranquil study date has either been stored away or placed beyond your reach.

damn him, the bastard! he's completely oblivious, you silently muse, bracing your elbows on the desk to plant your face in the palms of your hands. you chastise yourself at the same moment for forgetting your headphones, but in your defense, bakugou screaming for you to hurry up had prompted a hasty departure. if he had the patience to wait two more minutes. . .

rather than finishing the thought, you pull the textbook closer, hoping that somehow the enlarged print will stick to your brain like a temporary tattoo. you only need this information long enough to pass the exam, but once it's over, you swear you'll never mention anything chemistry related unless it's the bond between you and your neighbor. the idle scratching of pencil led against paper erupts from his side of the room, lessening the static in your head by a fraction, but it doesn't last. he mutters something unintelligible under his breath as you spin in your chair to look at him in desperation.

he remains ignorant for the next minute or so, only glancing up at you briefly before returning to his notes. your nostrils flare as you reach down to untangle your laces and pull off your shoe. you chickened out last time this happened, but being ignored has successfully fed the flames of your frustration, and you simply will not stand for it any longer. you blame your sleep-addled mentality for the lack of better aim, but it stokes your pride when bakugou flinches as your shoe hurdles past his shoulder.

"the hell was that for, dumbass!?" he growls, his eyes narrowing into slits. you respond with a high pitched whine; one that would be considered overexaggerated in his opinion, but in yours, was perfectly reasonable when being held against your will to study a subject that has no business being this tedious. "sukiii, i'm booored."

the blonde makes a 'tch' sound, positioning his arm in a warning manner before throwing his pencil at you, which you manage to catch easily. you revel in the deflated expression he wears, twirling the pencil between your fingers and kicking a leg over one arm of the chair. all this, while never breaking eye contact, was sure to break through to him. you're hopeful, what with the way katsuki's gaze—gradually failing to hide his infatuation—travels over your build from head to toe. whether because you giggle at his reaction or decide to kick your feet like a giddy child, he snaps out of his trance with an all too familiar scowl and shuts his own textbook with unnecessary force. his demanding stare is fixated on you as he tosses it haphazardly to the edge of the bed.

"give me back my pencil, idiot." he completely ignores your previous statement and jumps straight into business, as always. "give me back my shoe first, hot stuff." you challenge, smirking in a way that you very well know gets him hot under the collar. the teasing endearment will either put the odds in your favor; earning you your shoe as desired, and perhaps the lovely little blush that often dusts his face whenever you flirt with him; or seal your fate in hell where the everlasting flames may burn similarly, if not just as hotter than bakugou's explosions. it has taken years of practice to uphold your smug attitude in the face of his unyielding rage; nose wrinkled and canines grinding. even now, he is the image of perfection—a powerful god emblazoned in brimstone and baneful inferno—and you, a mere lover of art. after a moment, bakugou's resolve seems to falter. his piecing glare relents only slightly to give way for a pensive expression as he sighs, gently rubbing along the bridge of his nose with his thumb and forefinger. he throws you your shoe while standing from the bed, and as you slip it on, he shuffles over to his clothes drawer to pull out his own pair of sneakers. this prompts you to raise a brow inquisitively, but your silent question is left unanswered up until bakugou claps a hand on your shoulder and grumbles.

"c'mon, i'm fucking starving. there's a seven eleven nearby that's got spicy ramen."

and just like that, all thoughts pertaining to the test have been pulverized to dust by katsuki's unrelenting fists. the promise of food after hours of relentless mental abuse has you brushing off the sudden change of inclination in seconds, meanwhile the hothead to your right mulls over it during your trek through the empty hallways, stuffing his arms into the holes of his jacket. he had been able to overlook your constant fidgeting and intermittent noises of vexation, but too soon it became obvious that you weren't getting anywhere with the session. he would have simply offered to help if not for his own inability to concentrate, which had made itself known within the last half hour when he caught himself staring at you between taking notes. so what if he found your pouting cute? just maybe, he had started to fall in love with the way your brows furrowed at the instance of a misunderstood question; the absentminded tugging of your earlobe; the way your eyes looked without seeing, as if the smallest things held the greatest importance. sure, the tapping of your nails against a desk was a bit much, but he could always put a stop to your fretting by lacing your fingers together and kissing the back of your hand. just maybe, your bashful reactions made him want to hold you closer; to see you lounging across his lap—a throne befitting for a king—with your rose hued cheeks nestled in the crook of his neck.

not that you needed to know any of that. no fucking way would he endow another reason for you to tease him when the list was already so long.

curfew isn't for another hour, but bakugou would rather not waste time dawdling, so he uses this as reasoning for hooking your arm with his and practically hauling you out the exit. he mutters something about you being "too fucking slow" and "leaving you behind if you don't keep up", but the fact that he's dragging you along at all shows that he would have no problem resorting to desperate matters. the right amount of groveling and or compromising might mean a piggyback ride to the store, but regardless of how tempting the idea is, you decide not to further burden your friend with carrying you.

the towering shape of heights alliance becomes more and more like a speck of dust as your journey continues, the weight of your thoughts heavy on your already weary mind. you eye katsuki's side profile, noting the distinct lack of malice upon his handsome features, and smile softly to yourself. friend. it was the first word that occurred to you, albeit the least desirable and in no way comparable to the term that caused your heart to flutter within the confinements of your ribcage.

you aren't together. you don't know if you'll ever be, but when the the milieu; brimming with chaotic screams, booming laughter and disorderly merriment belonging to that of your closest friends; is whisked from the narrative, katsuki looks at you differently. whatever fragments of disdain and spite tend to crumble within the first few seconds and are replaced by an emotion that was unheard of ever having manifested in the depths of his vermillion hues. it holds a semblance to adoration, perhaps even respect, and for as long as you can recall, that is all you've wanted to see from him: to be regarded like no other.

sure, it's not like how you dreamed—he isn't very affectionate in public, though you doubt he would be even if you were together, and it always stings when he shrugs your affections off with a deriding comment—but that's just it. it's not a dream. after every scornful remark; after the day has passed and the dwindling moon takes its place in the evening sky, breaking through the curtains of his dorm; he'll kiss your hand, your blooming cheeks, your lips, all to atone for it. where no one else can see, he treats you like a divine being, and part of you wishes to think that it's because he's selfish. a bit of possessiveness has lead to many nights of a shared bed, ruffled sheets and smothering cuddles, but who are you to complain? everything he gives you is more real than any well-constructed reverie.

he may not be yours, and you may not be his, but no one else will suffice for either of you, and that is the unspoken truth.

the minimal bitterness in the autumn breeze makes for a refreshing atmosphere with the only discontent being the hunger that claws at your stomach. bakugou has never been merciful towards anyone, let alone the self-acclaimed nuisance who interrupts his studying with half-baked plans of adventure, but you're ever so grateful for the rare times where he is.

you know you won't have to wait long now that the smell of milk bread and takoyaki trickles into the air, much like the faint pitter patter of raindrops on the concrete. the shower is horribly ill-timed, but you hardly mind, especially when the droplets cling to bakugou's eyelashes like crystalline gemstones; glimmering faintly with every blink as they catch the suns rays. it settles below the horizon, only a sliver of golden yellow to be seen dancing in the tree boughs above, and the fuck if the way it illuminates your not-boyfriend's visage isn't absolutely breathtaking. the glimpse of honeyed skin and kissable lips—pulled into a pensive pout—draws you in deeper, and deeper, and oh god i've been caught—

"you got a staring problem, dumbass?" he grumbles, a roseal color dusting his ears that he swears is from the cold.

even his offensive nicknames are laced with an abnormal tenderness, and knowing that you're the only one with the privilege to hear it causes your chest to swell with delight. you nibble your bottom lip, hoping that it will somehow hide the fleet of giggles bubbling in your throat, but it does no such thing. "yeah, it's weird. whenever i see something beautiful, i just feel compelled to stare at it."

you don't need to look at him to know you've struck a nerve, but you do anyways, and his face grows redder under the intensity of your teasing leer. he sputters, curses falling from past his lips like a waterfall, and rips his arm from your grasp to cradle it as if you've burned him. any sane person would have backed down the second mini explosions began flaring up from his palms, however, you are perhaps the exact opposite, as to be expected when surrounding yourself with the infamous bakusquad, who (excluding bakugou) procured one braincell to share amongst themselves. years of having to put up with and, by extension, learn how to effectively handle bakugou's fits have proven to be time well spent.

you remain none the wiser to the concerned stares of others as he spouts a line of insults; incomprehensible from behind his curled fist pressed tightly to his mouth.

"you-you can't just say that kinda shit out loud, dumbass!" and although he may seem mad, he's already dragging you down the street. you test your luck by huddling closer and resting your chin on his shoulder, your steady pace never faltering.

"is the katsuki bakugou stumbling over his words from a little compliment?" it almost feels like you've won, but then the blonde proceeds to cover your face with his still damp hand. the little shit had timed it perfectly so that your open mouth would taste the saltiness of his sweat—quite the contrary to its sugary caramel aroma—and if you weren't so preoccupied by the resonance of his cackling laugh, you might have spent the rest of the trip gagging and complaining about the whole ordeal. he hardly seems bothered, wiping your saliva on his trousers and going forth with that customary lumbering strut, which always has you torn between fawning, chortling or questioning if he has fucking weights down his pants.

nonetheless, you can't help but murmur how cute he looks as you swing your free arm in tune with your steps.

by the time you've arrived at the shop, the sun has long since disappeared; welcoming hues of purple, navy blue and hints of orange to dapple the heavens, along with the foretelling of stars. you can't begin to describe how lucky you are to be living in a city with such beautiful scenery, even when the thin clouds of smog from factories often hinder your view of it. the fluorescent lights from the 'open' sign flash sporadically, casting a cobalt glow to dance across your dazed expression. katsuki watches with intent, chuckling at how easily distracted you can get as he tugs you inside by the cloth of your shirt.

the person behind the cash register spares a customary greeting before returning to their magazine, and bakugou makes a beeline for the intended isle, something akin to excitement radiating from him. he wears it much differently, and it resembles is go-to callous guise in almost every way, but you're able to detect the slight shift in demeanor as if its the easiest thing in the world. you hardly register that he's removed himself from you until the distance grows too large to ignore, and you shuffle over to the place beside him with a newfound adrenaline. the crisp air of the corner store heightens your senses as you tap your foot to the pop song playing overhead.

the only other sound is of katsuki examining the ramen and deciding what level of spice he should get, encouraging you to ponder what sort of hellish nightmare he has planned for the rest of the group. it was just last week when he dared kaminari to try some of the noodles, and the poor boy had spent ten minutes weeping in snot-nosed agony that you would have to be insane to put something that hot in your mouth. bakugou had laughed at his misery and carried on eating with vigor, mocking the others for their weak taste buds.

after a beat of silence, you decide to test your luck again by poking is shoulder, as well as batting your eyelashes at him and cocking your head to the side.

"can we get some candy?"

bakugou waves his hand dismissively, which is all the conformation you need before rounding the corner to peruse the variety of sweets on display. you immediately spot the marked parcels of sour gumdrops and assorted licorice and giggle to yourself as you pick them out, unaware of the gentle smile the blonde wears in regards to your child-like glee.

"yeah, just don't eat it all in one sitting. you go through that shit way too fast—it's unhealthy."

you won't bother commenting on his strict, motherly advisement, because you know it's in his best interest. he's grumbled about "stuffing your body with all that garbage" on numerous occasions, and while the hypocrisy might have annoyed you at one point ("and i assume gouging yourself on spicy ramen is completely different?") you realized rationing your candy would benefit both your health and your wallet. you nod, despite knowing he can't see, and idly feel for your back pocket, wondering just how much katsuki plans to stock up. money isn't exactly an issue, so you suppose it doesn't matter, but the amount of packets he normally brings back is downright criminal.

"don't be shy," he eventually says, "i'm buying. you're responsible enough not to buy out the whole store, right?"

your confusion overwhelms the urge to roll your eyes at his sarcasm, but there also lies a hint of elation that he would offer to buy.

"i figured i'd be paying as compensation for messing with you." you stand on the tips of your toes to poke your head over the isle, feeling very tempted to ruffle his hair whilst he gathers the packages of ramen into his basket.

"nah, you can pay me back in some other way." his eyes flick upwards to meet your devilish smirk, and he turns away with an affronted noise, blood rushing to his cheeks.

"oh? i can't wait to see what you have in mind~."

and there go the sparks. they last but a few moments before katsuki composes himself, presumably because he realizes making a scene won't help the situation, but he still throws a glare at you from a distance as he beckons you closer. it seems like he's gotten all he needs, so you hastily grab whatever sweets are left on your mental list and rush back to the counter. a comfortable silence sits between you both as your items are checked out, and in that time, you observe the significant difference between pre-late-night-shopping-run bakugou and food-deprived-study-date bakugou. his shoulders are more relaxed, as is his facial appearance, and you'll be damned if you ever forget the way he smiles when he catches you looking from his peripheral vision.

it's soft and unguarded and leaves you struggling for breath as he waits for the cashier to turn away, then promptly laces your fingers together. what? katsuki takes the bag and pulls you effortlessly; like a ragdoll; a mere toy at his disposal; out into the brisk evening. his thumb brushes the back of your hand, making you jump in surprise at the suddenness of it, and he titters freely. what? the streetlamps glint brightly, flickering at random intervals as you travel onward at a leisurely pace. the roads closest to U.A. aren't as packed as the ones deeper into the city, and thus you are the only two souls to be found, save for the few cars that speed by under the faint luminescence of nearing traffic lights. katsuki squeezes your palm, then slithers his hand out of your hold to replace it at your waist, methodically caressing the skin there in a way that has your knees buckling. you sputter witlessly, attempting to catch the thoughts that flee from your mind like birds to the wind. the blonde is nothing less than ecstatic to be the reason for your flustered state, and he takes full advantage of it by leaning in and hovering his mouth just inches from your own.

"i'll take my payment now." and oh lord, you think. he doesn't have to ask me twice. your lips collide with his, molding together like melted toffee; just as sweet and addictive. you've shared kisses before; ones that left you bruised and scrambling for a coverup the next day; ones that felt like fire but were tinged with honey that soothed your throat; fleeting ones that were never enough. you were sure that your need for affection would never truly be satiated unless it was from the boy you held most dear, and with the moon as your sole witness, katsuki was happy to oblige.

"starbursts. . ." he huffs after pulling away, massaging your hip to subdue your dissatisfied hum. "you taste like cherry starbursts."

he doesn't seem to mind by the way he leans in for another kiss, and another, and another, until you're a jittery mess in his arms. you press against his chest, a wistful sigh escaping you when you part once more.

"not that i'm complaining, but where's this coming from? you're usually not so touchy." the last bit of your utterance trails off as bakugou presses his lips to your forehead and keeps them there. moments pass, and when he finally pulls away, its to hide his blush by walking ahead of you. "i should be able to kiss my partner whenever i please, shouldn't i?" he doesn't even give you a chance to catch up, because his words have you rooted to the spot. what urges your feet to move is the haughty smirk he tosses over his shoulder, and even then, the race has only begun; your demands for him to stop echoing down the street as you chase him.

cheeky bastard.

[oinkz]

dilemma

— one late night, iwaizumi finds you at his door, drunk on fatigue and desperate to be held. he’s all but willing to give into your desires, however, he’s in the middle of a slumber party with his best friend. (gn!reader)

— tooth-rotting fluff, slight iwaoi, 2.3k words

“How did you even drive here? You can barely even walk,” your boyfriend wonders out loud, wrapping his arms around you to carry you bridal style and push his front door closed.

“I can manage,” you reply simply. It was a bit dangerous - getting up and having to unlock your car during this hour, but with the way Iwaizumi holds you, you forget all about that immediately.

All you know is that he’s warm, and he makes the perfect remedy to your insomnia. Already, you can feel the ache in your bones melting away with his touch.

You hum into his neck, your mouth naturally forming a dopey grin. “Mmmm, I like this.”

For a moment, he allows himself coo at your adorable state. How could he not? With every second, you’re losing sense of your surroundings. The more dazed you become, the firmer your embrace around his neck is. It’s a testament as to how much you trust him, and how much his presence comforts you.

But the fond gleam in his eyes is quick to fade when he reminds himself that just a few rooms away is Oikawa setting up for his 20 step nighttime routine -  even on a sleepover.

Usually Iwaizumi grumbles about how it’s only one night - he can go one day without partaking in his entire skincare routine and come out okay - but today, it’s a blessing. Because Oikawa has no clue that you two are dating.

He’s suspected it, sure, but he’s never pushed it.

So, this is a bit of a dilemma. You’re exhausted and so deserving of an entire night’s worth of rest, but this was nowhere close to how your boyfriend wanted to come forward with his relationship with you - to be found cuddling in the living room. Already, Iwaizumi can hear the teasing comments of his best friend, and dare he says it, he’s a bit scared.

Iwaizumi is known to be a tough love sort of guy, so what is Oikawa supposed to think when he finds the ever so rough-around-the-edges spiker so weak in the knees? He’s spent far too long trying to break down tough exterior for you - to love you wholeheartedly... However, pride is a dangerous thing.

He doesn’t feel the need to have dignity around you. You have seen him in four out of five of his Godzilla onesies, and he has guarded the outside of a public restroom when your stomach had a very apparent reaction to the ice cream he had bought earlier that day. There is no need to be prideful in a comfortable, loving relationship.

But with Oikawa? Iwaizumi is a complete narcissist. Ever since his early childhood days, there was always something so fulfilling about beating him. Just recently, Iwaizumi was laughing over how the lunch lady gave him an extra loaf of bread, whereas Oikawa only received one.

Iwaizumi knows his best friend well enough to predict that Oikawa is going to be the bane of his (and your) existence. He’s going to tease and laugh, and as tough of a cookie your boyfriend is, there is only so much he can take before he starts to become self conscious about his affection.

Very subtly, Iwaizumi loosens his grip on you. Perhaps, out of nervousness.

“Could you let go for a bit? I’m gonna set you down on the couch,” he says, and you audibly whine.

“Noooo,” you slur out, lips pushed into a pout. “Then you’re gonna leave.”

“.... I’m not going to leave.”

It’s true - he wasn’t. But he at least wanted to distance himself enough so you two were in a less... intimate position.

“I’m so tired... please, Haji.” Your voice is barely a breathe, and instantly, his eyes soften.

He sighs reluctantly, pulling you in closer once again.

“Okay, baby. I won’t leave,” He whispers into your ear, so gently that it almost makes you sob. Maybe it’s the effects of sleep deprivation making you more emotional, but you swear on your life that you love this man.

You let out a sigh of satisfaction before planting a kiss on his neck.

“Why do you seem so tense?” you ask, taking note of the visible muscle tension on his shoulders.

“It’s just...” he starts, hesitantly. “Oikawa’s over for a sleepover tonight.”

“... He is?”

“Yeah. He’s in the bathroom right now, actually.”

You contemplate for a bit, dark thoughts creeping into your head. “Are you... ashamed of me?”

“No, y/n, of course not. You’re perfect,” he assures you without wasting a second. “You know how Shittykawa can be, though.”

“So, annoying?” You suggest.

“And troublesome,” he adds with a small smile.

“And obnoxious.”

“And punchable.”

“And loud.”

“And a pain in the ass.”

You burst into laughter. “You love him.”

Iwaizumi can’t help but break into a wide grin at the sound. “Don’t say that in front of him, though, or he’ll never shut up about it.”

Soon enough, you two are on the couch, limbs tangled together. Very slowly, your consciousness is slipping through your fingers as he draws ‘I Love You’s into your skin and talks about anything and everything. It’s sweet, natural, and nothing short of intimate.

“He’s going to be super annoying about this,” He grumbles. Though you were only half-paying attention to what he was going on about, it didn’t take much for you to understand he was talking about his beloved, Oikawa.

You sigh, and the ever so self-sacrificing part of you feels guilty. 

“... I’ll leave if you’re not ready to reveal us to him.” Your voice is suddenly serious.

However, Iwaizumi only flicks the back of your head in amusement. “And why would I let you do that? You practically sobbed when I asked if I could let go of you.”

“Shut the fuck up,” You hiss between the teeth of your growing smile.

At this point, you two are giggling on the couch like a loved up married couple... which is essentially what you two are. Except, not married. 

But Iwaizumi can see it - him and you under the altar. He can see the subtle changes in you, in your demeanor, and how comfortable you’ve grown to become with him. It’s an indicator that this was real, healthy, yet exhilarating all the same. And that was all he needed to know that he was going to be stuck in this thing with you for... a long time.

“Fuck, I love you,” Hajime tells you for no reason other than to say them. His laughter has died now, and he’s pressing a kiss to the top of your head.

You have to clench your teeth to stop your heart from bursting right then and there.

“I love you, too,” you whisper back, weakly. You don’t even realize that that was all you needed to sleep, because momentarily, you’re letting the tide of his breathing guide you to a slumber.

He leans downwards to kiss your nose, but with the way your nose scrunches in response, he can’t help but peck you again. One kiss becomes two, two becomes three, and shortly, he’s smothering your face in kisses.

“You’re so cute,” he murmurs without thinking. “Wish you would take care of yourself more, though.”

As if you can hear him in your sleep, you shuffle slightly, nuzzling into his neck.

Opting not to speak any further, he closes his eyes, trying so hard to stop smiling. But you’re here, arms wrapped around him like your life depends on it.

What time was it, again? Why were you two on the couch instead of his bed? Your relaxation is so contagious, Iwaizumi’s surroundings are becoming some sort of blur.

He even forgets what letter he left off on as he was writing ‘I Love You’s on your back, so he ends up writing ‘I Lvve Yoou’ instead this time. He takes it as a sign that he should probably sleep as well.

Right before he falls asleep, he lets himself have one last thought. Maybe if he pulls you in closer, he’ll find you in his dreams, too—

“Well, well, well,” a voice from afar cuts into his train of thought, and instantly, Iwaizumi’s weariness disappears. His eyes snap open, and there Oikawa was, standing by the entrance of his living room.

The grin splayed across his lips is wicked. Too wicked.

“Never thought I’d see you so soft, Iwa-chan,” The brunette mused.

Iwaizumi pushes his lips out to form a menacing glare, but if anything, it comes across as intimidating as an angry chihuahua. “Go away, Shittykawa.”

As if he doesn’t hear his best friend, Oikawa continues. “I’ve always had my suspicions... but this is something else.”

“Yeah, you caught us,” Iwaizumi sighs out, defeated. “This wasn’t how I wanted to tell you, but they couldn’t sleep at home so... here we are.”

Oikawa squints his eyes behind his spectacles, forming a thoughtful expression.

“... I’m happy for you,” he finally settles with, after a long moment.

Unknowingly, Iwaizumi tenses in your arms. He prays to god that you don’t sense it.

“What?” he practically whispers, dumbfounded.

The brunette has to suppress a laugh.

“I’m happy for you,” Oikawa reiterates, stronger this time. And he really is.

Tooru has watched the spiker since he was just barely five feet tall, followed him around when he would catch bugs and set them free, took him in many times when he caught a fever, paid for practically half of his Godzilla merchandise, and now... he’s watching Hajime lose himself to love. He’s touched, really.

(Although, he wont lie - Oikawa finds it hard to believe Iwaizumi managed to find someone before him.)

“Thanks,” Iwaizumi mumbles, uncharacteristically awkward.

Oikawa smiles. “Y/n’s out of your league, by the way.”

Iwaizumi rolls his eyes, because he definitely knows. And once again, their dynamic is restored to its friendly nature.

“Go to sleep, Trashykawa. You can take my bed.” With that, Iwaizumi boyfriend pulls in closer to his chest.

The brunette nods, “Alright, alright. Let me get a glass of water, first.” He takes a few steps forward and the hardwood creaks from under him, causing him to blush in embarrassment.

“Wake them up, and I’ll kill you,” Hajime shoots the setter a look.

Oikawa huffs, offended. “So mean, Iwa-chan! Not my fault your floors creak!”

“I said go to sleep!” Now, Iwaizumi is glaring daggers into his best friend.

“Okay, okay,” his best friend raises his arms in surrender. “Geez, you’re too—”

“Do you guys ever shut up?” You ask suddenly, voice lower than usual. Iwaizumi instantly reddens in shame.

“Sorry Assikawa’s so loud,” your boyfriend whispers.

“I heard that!” Oikawa whines, pouting at both of you.

You frown. “You’re just as loud, Haji. I’m right in front of you.”

“... I’m sorry, baby.”

“I’m sorry, baby,” Tooru mimicks, voice two octaves higher.

“Shut up, Shittykawa,” you and Hajime retort in unison.

“I take it all back, Iwa-chan. You both are big meanies,” the brunette cries, and suddenly, your boyfriend is sitting up and leaning forward to reach a sofa cushion that’s rested on top of his feet.

Oh, Lord.

More playful jabs are thrown at each other, and next thing you know, Iwaizumi and Oikawa are thrusting sofa cushions at each other. You sit up as well, arms crossed in annoyance.

Under normal circumstances, you would join in on the fun and gang up on Oikawa with your beloved boyfriend. But these are not normal circumstances. You are currently running on three hours of sleep, and to put it simply... you’re cranky. So cranky, you could punch someone without feeling even a bit of remorse.

All you wanted was to get a full eight hours sleep in your boyfriend’s arms for the night, was that so impossible? Well, apparently it was, because the chaos runs for another half an hour without rest.

And all you do is sit in the middle of it, hoping to pass out already.

Unfortunately, you do not pass out, and you have to weakly force yourself to get up from the sofa and into your boyfriend’s room to finally gain a bit of attention.

“Sorry,” Hajime mumbles as he enters the room, running a hand through his disheveled hair.

“Whatever,” you murmur into his pillow, burying your nose into his very own scent.

The bed dips from beside you, and an arm slithers around your waist. To his surprise, your grip around his pillow only tightens.

“Aw, baby...” He whisper into your ear sadly, and you hate how you can feel your body subconsciously wanting to move in closer.

But you don’t, all due to pride.

“We’ll sleep in the entire night, okay? Tomorrow, too,” He tells you, rubbing gentle circles into your stomach.

“‘Jus wanted to sleep...” You breathe out, your cheeks warming at how emotional you sound right now. Damn you, sleep deprivation, you curse inwardly.

“And you can,” he says softly. He kisses your shoulder and makes his way up to the back of your neck, slowly and so, so affectionate. “Just c’mere already. You’re too tense.”

You groan because he’s right, and he always is. You want to punch the stupidly big grin on his face as you begin to turn and face him, pressing your chest flush against his.

He’s a human heater so perfectly made for you. Immediately, his warmth seeps past your skin and goes right through your heart. You nuzzle your nose into his neck, immersing yourself in him completely.

You can’t really breathe all that well in this position, but whatever. You could suffocate in his arms, for all you cared. This feels too good, and you’ve lived a good life, anyway - a good enough life to have this teddy bear of a man be your lover.

“Good night, Hajime,” You say, muffled against his skin. You can’t see it, but his eyes light up with adoration.

“Sweet dreams, my sleepy baby,” he coos, peppering the top of your head with kisses.

Needless to say, you ended up getting ten hours of sleep that night, and in that time, Oikawa rewatched ET and made a full batch of pancakes all by himself. So much for bonding and spending extra time with his best friend.