#it's about FIGHTING TO SHINE TOGETHER BRIGHT FOREVER

[oh-katsuki]

the notebook theory (tsukishima kei x reader)

masterlist | ao3

Pairing: Tsukishima Kei x Reader

Summary: Kei has a cynical and jaded outlook on love. When his friend Tadashi figures out that Kei has feelings for you, Kei isn’t sure how to react. After all, love is not something he does but rather, something that happens to him.

"There’s a notebook that Kei likes on his desk. No matter what he does, nothing is good enough to put a permanent mark into the thing. Even if he used a pencil, Kei feels like the evidence of the mark would still be there even after erasing it, a molecular change that can’t be seen with the naked eye. Kei calls it the notebook theory.

He thinks that might be what’s happening to him. A molecular change, imperceivable to someone not looking at him under a microscope. It’s like his DNA is being rewritten and stitched together with bright pink yarn. He feels himself steadily come apart and come together. It’s uncomfortable, like trying to dream when he has a fever. Kei is nearly certain that you’re the reason."

Content Warnings:  fem!reader (gender neutral pronouns), no real manga spoilers, slow burn, one-sided pining, angst, mentions of divorce and broken homes, toxic relationship (kei's parents), smut, fingering, oral (f!receiving and m!receiving), pinching, mentions of mark making, overstimulation (m!receiving), multiple orgasms, hair-pulling

Word Count: 24.8k

A/N: i know i spent forever working on this but it's finally done and while i have a lot of thoughts about it, idk rly what to say. anyway, here's my first attempt at a tsukishima long fic. also i already know that im not beating the tsukkiyama allegations, okay? i tried and failed to beat them okay i just think there is no way to put them in a situation without it being a little homoerotic bc.. they r them okay? anyway, i hope u enjoy and would love to hear ur thoughts <3

The morning comes without warning. Kei thinks he’s read that somewhere, though he’s just sure just where he saw it. He also thinks that whoever said that is right. Morning is always a harsh assault and never as gentle as people describe it to be. 

Kei’s room, the one he rents at university, faces toward the east. In the mornings, when the sun peeks over the horizon, it shines directly into his room and onto his bed before creeping across the light wood floors. His blinds, as useful as they are, always let some through the cracks and the light cuts the ground like butter to a knife. Kei doesn’t think it feels half as romantic as it sounds. 

The light works better than his alarm. No matter how set he is on sleeping in, he never fails to wake up as soon as those slats of light make their way across his bedspread. It wakes him like fever and he’s never quite as comfortable as he felt falling asleep. This morning is no different. 

He rises like he always has, running a hand over his blonde hair and dragging it down his face after sitting up. Then, he stands once in an attempt to gather his bearings before sitting right back down on the edge of the bed. He fights the lingering remnants of sleep, feeling the ray of sunlight beat down on his back. Then, he reaches towards his glasses on the nightstand and slides them up the bridge of his long nose before standing up again once and for all. 

Yamaguchi lives in the other room. His best friend since high school, perhaps his only real friend. They’d miraculously attended the same college and decided to room together, though his other friends from his youth aren’t too far. The arrangement managed to make it all the way until their fourth and final year. Living with each other has become par for the course. 

Tadashi wakes up later than Kei does on most days, except for Tuesdays and Thursdays. On those days, he has an 8 am and is usually in the kitchen before Kei has even stood up for the first time. Today is a Wednesday, so Yamaguchi is asleep in his room. The morning light doesn’t wake him the same way it does Kei. His room faces west, so it isn’t until the mid-afternoon, when Tadashi is chased from his room by the afternoon rays and heat, that he notices the sun on its blinding conquest across the sky. 

Kei’s room is clean and neat. There’s no clutter, no collection of items that don’t have a proper place. Everything is itemized and stored exactly where he intends for them to be. His floor is void of stray clothes, of socks he’d discarded the night before, his nightstand is bare and his desk is surprisingly empty save for one notebook sitting in its center. It’s a room that he could leave at any time, despite living here for nearly two years. If Kei chose to do so, he could pack his things and be gone in a day. 

Yamaguchi’s room is different. It’s lived in and well worn. There’s clutter on the floor, socks and pants he’d taken and tossed away to be dealt with later. Certain things don’t have a place and end up living on semi-crowded surfaces filled with things he likes to put down as quickly as he’d picked them up. Kei envies that way of living. A non-temporary way. He envies the rug in Yamaguchi’s room and the way he fills the space with himself. Kei thinks that even after they’re long gone, future tenants would still be able to feel Tadashi’s presence. 

To say that Kei is cynical would be accurate. He tends to lean more towards paranoia in his own strange way. He keeps things in order to quell the anxiety in it. Things stay where they are meant to be. As a result, he’s earned himself somewhat of an uptight attitude that makes Kei feel more awkward than relaxed even when he’s in his own spaces. Not that he minds it. 

Tadashi’s dish from last night is sitting next to the sink. Kei moves around it as he fixes a tea, making an effort not to drag his feet across the floor because he hates the scuffing sound. Every now and then, the glass of his mug will clink against the cheap kitchen tile and Kei will cringe in some paranoid worry that it will wake his friend. 

As he gathers his things to leave the quiet apartment, Kei wonders where his cynicism comes from. He’s sure he could pinpoint it if he tried. His parents divorce, his previous experiences with dating that have left him jaded, the holes that wore even in his most sturdy of sweaters. Inconsequential nothings that piled up until Kei had developed an undeniably cautious outlook on the world. To him, all of these things are the same. Like the morning, they’re intrusive and unsightly, but none is less important than the other. 

Kei does have things he likes. Art, for one. He likes paintings, sculptures, little pieces of history, and all of the things people make with their hands that he could never do. Kei is hopeless at crafts. His fingers are lithe and long, but they’re clumsy and hard to control. Despite his need for order, Kei has trouble controlling his urges. The subtle twitches of his fingers always mess up whatever it is he’s trying to craft. 

He likes writing best of all, specifically curatorial writing. It’s easy for him to pick which pieces belong together and how to organize them in a space, it suits his talent for compartmentalizing. Kei gets to tell a story that way, be it historical or artistic, sometimes both. The essays that his classmates find tedious, he finds relaxing despite the stress. For him, writing about art and history is a pleasure much like sipping tea that is the perfect temperature, unintrusive and natural. 

By the time he arrives at the library, it’s nearly 9 am. He works better here, in the quiet section at a table hidden by three tall shelves of books. It’s almost never occupied and there are hardly ever people seated in the immediate area. Kei doesn’t go out of his way to avoid others, but he finds that if he doesn’t approach people, they often won’t approach him. He prefers things this way, it makes the good and bad people easier to weed out. 

From this spot in the library, Kei can see where you usually set up shop for the day. You arrive after him by about 45 minutes and he convinces himself that it is always coincidental. 

Strictly speaking, you’re Tadashi’s friend, not his. You’ve known each other for a little under a year and have been by the apartment a few times, but yours and his conversations are limited entirely to pleasantries. How are you? What are you working on? We’re graduating soon, huh? Casual conversation that Kei can weasel his way out of at any time. Like his room, it’s impermanent. 

Kei has had the idea that nothing stays stuck in his head since middle school. The house he lived in when his parents were together, weekdays with his mother and weekends with his father, graduating seniors, the apartment he lives in now. To Kei, all of it is so temporary that he finds it difficult to get attached to it, not that he’s devoid of emotion. He quite loves the little things he has, but his grip on them is loose and half-hearted. Whatever leaves, Kei thinks is meant to leave, so he makes no effort to hold on. 

It’s probably unfair to think of you that way, but Kei can’t really help it. He can’t change what he is. Besides, it’s not as if he doesn’t have a reason to think so. He’s often approached by people for his looks, people who want to get close because they think he’s tall and handsome, people who collect others like trophies. He’s not heartless, so he’s been hurt more than a few times. Kei thinks he owes it to himself to be cautious, not that you’ve done anything to earn that type of subtle hostility. 

“Thought you might be here,” someone’s hand lands on his shoulder. 

“Shit,” he groans, “is it that late already?” 

Kei glances down at the watch on his wrist, reading the time as just past 10:45 am. He’s been here for an hour and 45 minutes and hasn’t gotten anything done. Tadashi pulls the chair next to him out and sits down, resting his chin on his hand. 

“Spacing out?” 

“A little,” Kei responds, tapping his pen against the table and turning back toward his book. 

“Got something due?” 

“Yeah, on Friday,” he exhales. “Haven’t started it yet though. You?” 

“Nah,” Tadashi smiles. “I’m just chasing you around.” 

“You’re like a girl with a crush.” 

Tadashi shrugs and lets out a good natured laugh. It’s a little too loud for this part of the library, but Kei lets it slide, smiling with his friend. 

Tadashi is the opposite of him, he thinks. He smiles often and says exactly what’s on his mind when it crosses it, even if it's a little mean. Tadashi used to be a follower, but in his final year of high school and university years, grew into someone befitting of his somewhat sunny and sarcastic personality. Thoughts and words come easily to him and he has no trouble vocalizing his joy or his disappointment. 

Yamaguchi has freckles covering the entirety of his body. Kei knows this because he’s seen far more of Tadashi than he thinks he should have. His skin is tawny and warm like him. Kei finds himself looking at the ones on his hands as Yamaguchi begins to write in his notebook. Kei can’t read his handwriting because it’s terrible and he doesn’t much feel like working on his own project, so he watches his friend’s hand mark the page. Then, his gaze slinks across the library to you. 

You’ve got your head down and look like you’re falling asleep despite it only being 11 in the morning. Your hand moves lazily across your computer keypad. By the time Kei realizes that you’ve spotted him staring, it’s too late to look away. His gaze was too intentional, so he smiles at you instead, nodding his head a little. 

You smile and wave, standing from where you sit and collecting your things. They fill up your arms because you don’t bother to put them in your bag, making your way clumsily across the room and setting your stuff down across from him. 

“Hi, Tsukishima,” you smile. “Hi, Tadashi.” 

You use his friend’s given name and Kei feels a pang of jealousy hit his chest. 

“How long have you been here? I didn’t see you,” you ask, settling into the seat across from Kei. 

“I just got here,” Tadashi smiles, looking up from his notes. “He’s been here for a while though.” 

Tadashi motions towards him. 

“Aw, why didn’t you say hi?” 

“You seemed busy,” Kei lies. 

You pout, filling your mouth with air. “Next time just come say hi, ‘kay?” 

“Sure,” Kei nods. 

Tadashi tosses him a sideways glance and Kei shrugs it off. He’s not interested in being teased this morning, though when is he ever. 

Kei doesn’t like the way you make him feel. When you’re around, he becomes prickly. It sets Kei on edge in a way that he hates. His world, previously so rigid and organized, quickly begins to feel cluttered and structureless. 

You make his heart pound. You make it hammer against his chest so hard that he can feel it in his ears and behind his eyes. It goes all the way down to his already-hard-to-control fingertips and the tops of his thighs. A previously pastel colored world goes vibrantly candy-colored like it’s been plunged in saturating liquid. He nevers knows how to hold himself, never knows how to act natural. What does it mean to act natural, anyway? How should he rest his hands on the desk? Would it be weird to lace them together? Does he look as stiff as he feels? It’s entirely possible that he is suffering a massive heart attack. 

You whisper across the table to Tadashi, leaning forward and laughing at something he’s written in his notebook. You can read his handwriting, something Kei is equally jealous about as he is angry. Kei just watches your conversation, unable to really listen into it on account of the stroke that he thinks he’s having. 

The three of you stay like this for a while, earning the occasional irritated whisper or dirty look from some of the more studious people in the library. Kei pretends to ignore them, remaining quiet throughout the duration of your study session with Tadashi. His quiet corner is invaded and painted bright pink with your presence and he doesn’t know whether to feel giddy or irrationally angry. Maybe it’s both. 

“Crap, is that the time?” Tadashi exclaims, hunching over himself when someone nearby shushes him. “I’ve got class across campus in 10 minutes.” 

He hurriedly collects his things. Tadashi does it so fast, in fact, that Kei hardly has time to beg him not to leave him alone with you. So he just watches as Tadashi throws his things clumsily into his bag and tosses it over his shoulder. 

“Bye, ___,” he says in a rushed whisper. “I’ll see you at home, Kei!” 

“Sure,” is all that Kei can muster. His voice cracks when he says it and he immediately avoids looking at you and stares at nothing in particular in his textbook. 

It’s quiet for a while. Kei pretends to busy himself by glancing between his textbook and his computer and you sit with your head bowed as you take notes on a lecture you’re listening to through the single earbud in your right ear. Then, you tap the end of your pen lightly on Kei’s notebook to get his attention. 

It’s only been about 10 minutes since Tadashi left, but the library now feels like an entirely different place. His heart pounds as he struggles to keep a straight face. 

When he looks up, you’re looking at him with a tilted head. Your expression is soft and unintrusive, friendly but a bit guarded. You smile softly at him. 

“You don’t like me very much, do you?” You ask gently. It doesn’t sound accusatory, but rather a casual statement tinged with friendliness. 

“Huh?” Blood rushes into his ears. 

“I just kinda get the impression that you’re uncomfortable around me,” you say. “Am I wrong?” 

“Uh, no- it’s not that I don’t like you.” 

He’s quick to correct you and he feels heat rush to his cheeks. 

“Then what?” you question lightly. There’s no ulterior motive behind your smile, Kei can tell, but your openness makes him uneasy. 

“I dunno,” he calms himself a little. “I don’t really know how to act around you, I guess.” 

You laugh, leaning back into your chair. “Is that all?” 

“Well, yeah…” he feels awkward and his palms are sweaty. He drops them below the table to wipe them. “You’re Tadashi’s friend and I’m pretty different from him so I just…” He trails off, shrugging his shoulders.

“I was worried you hated me,” you smile, chuckling to yourself. 

“That’s definitely not it,” he loosens a little, smiling lightly despite the thudding of his heart. It slows down steadily. 

“I’m your friend too, ya know?” 

“That so?” 

“Well, yeah,” you shrug and lean all the way back, crossing your arms. “I just kinda figured that we would be.” 

“Friends?” His tongue feels heavy in his mouth. His word placement is awkward. 

“Duh,” you laugh a little. “You know, you don’t have to speak formally with me.” 

“That’s just the way I am,” he huffs at being read. 

“Well, you can drop them with me. I don’t mind.” 

“Tall order,” he snorts. 

You tilt your head to the side. “Did you just make a joke?” 

“Uh, yeah…” 

“Funny,” you smile. “What are you studying?” 

“It’s not really studying…” he says, glancing down at the near empty document. “I’m supposed to be writing an essay I have due on Friday. Not going well.” 

He looks up at you through his lashes. You’re leaning forward across the table now, your chin angled upward as you try and peek at what’s on his screen. He turns it so that you can see better. 

“Baroque art?” You read aloud. “Oh yeah, Tadashi mentioned that you’re an art history major. Do you draw too?” 

“No,” he scoffs. “I’m hopeless at it, but I like art. It’s nice to look at.” 

“Huh, you look like you’d be good at drawing,” you say. 

“What’s that mean?” 

“I dunno, like a manga author or something,” you shrug. “You’ve got nice hands too. Like an artist.” 

“Manga?” He laughs a little, trying to play off the color he feels rushing to his face from the compliment. 

“Yeah, you look like the manga type.” 

“Is it the glasses?” He raises an eyebrow. 

“Maybe,” you laugh. 

Kei looks down at his hands. They’re big, like the rest of him, and his knuckles are thin. He’s hyper-aware of them now that you’ve complimented them. He studies them briefly, following the barely visible veins up the back of them, following the line of his fingers to his nails. They’re trimmed and somewhat well kept, save for the spots that he tends to bite at when he lays in bed at night. His hands look nothing like Tadashi’s. Tadashi’s fingers are thick and his nails are short on account of him biting them. Kei wonders if you prefer them to his. 

—

There’s a notebook that Kei likes on his desk. It’s only a bit bigger than his fist—a little thing, really—and it’s completely blank. Kei’s never written anything down in it, nothing has ever really been worth sullying the thing. It’s got brown fabric binding and a semi-thick cover. It’s malleable, but not so flimsy that he’d need a desk to write in it. 

Kei’s not too sure why he bought it in the first place. Maybe he liked the size of it, small enough to fit in his pocket, but not so small as to be ridiculous. It’s practical, much like he is. He’s considered turning it into a daily planner and putting to-do lists in it, but Kei isn’t much of a list guy, it’s Tadashi that likes making lists. Nothing has ever really felt like it suits the book. He’s considered journaling in it, but his life is one big routine and he doesn’t think there’s anything worth writing about. 

No matter what he does, nothing is good enough to put a permanent mark into the thing. Even if he used a pencil, Kei feels like the evidence of the mark would still be there even after erasing it, a molecular change that can’t be seen with the naked eye. Kei calls it the notebook theory. 

He thinks that might be what’s happening to him. A molecular change, imperceivable to someone not looking at him under a microscope. It’s like his DNA is being rewritten and stitched together with bright pink yarn. He feels himself steadily come apart and come together. It’s uncomfortable, like trying to dream when he has a fever. 

Kei is nearly certain that you’re the reason, not that he’s about to admit to anyone else that he likes you. Tadashi managed to weasel it out of him, though he didn’t really have to ask. In fact, it was less of an admittance to Kei than it was confirmation of his own feelings. If Tadashi can tell that he likes you, then he must. 

People seem to know things about Kei before he even knows them himself. At least, that’s how it seems. He’s always confronted with his own feelings by other people, not that they’re really ever wrong, but it seems everyone catches onto what he’s feeling rather quickly. He’s not too sure why that is, maybe he’s just obvious and hasn’t realized it. 

Come to think of it, when Tadashi had confronted Kei about his feelings for you, he’d been deeply annoying about it. Kei couldn’t even try to deny it because Tadashi had come out with his guns blazing, cornering him in the living room and throwing facts about you at him until his face was beet red with embarrassment. Then, with a serious frown on his face, he’d simply stated you like them and that was the end of it. Kei couldn’t even deny it. Even he knew that it read plainly in his expression. 

To be frank, it sucks being told in plain speech how he feels about someone. Whenever that happens, it makes Kei feel like he’ll never be able to keep another secret in his life. Sometimes, he wishes that he was able to make the decision to tell someone else on his own, but even Kei knows that that is a little beyond him. Kei can think the feelings just fine, but when it comes to speaking them aloud, he seems to have a padlock around his throat. 

Tadashi knows this about him and if it weren’t for him, Kei would have agonized far longer and far worse over certain situations of emotional turmoil. Most of the time, Tadashi gets it without needing to ask or say anything. It’s nice to have someone understand him in that way, even if it does mean he can’t keep a secret to save his life. 

Feelings lately make Kei a little angry. He’s always known that he’s had somewhat of a sour personality. Kei doesn’t need to be told that he’s smug to know that he is. He’s snarky and usually touchy, picky about the people that he hangs out with. It’s not really a secret that Kei is a hard person to get along with, but lately, he feels like it’s been worse. 

Maybe it’s because this is new territory to him. As conceited as it sounds, Kei has never liked someone first. It’s not because he doesn’t think anyone is worthy, but rather, because there are very few people he doesn’t find grating. Despite how he seems, Kei is incredibly sensitive about things, so naturally, it’s easier to get on his nerves. 

He’s dated before, though not for long, and all of his relationships have started the same way. Kei is approached by them, usually on the premise of looks, and he accepts. He’s not sure why he does. Sometimes it’s because he thinks they’re pretty, other times it’s because the romantic in him hopes that it will actually work out. It never has. 

Most of the time, Kei turns out to be different than they expected. He’s too touchy, too sarcastic, too awkward in his way of trying to love. To Kei, it has always felt like it’s ended just as he was beginning to develop real feelings. 

If he’s being honest, it’s given him a twisted inferiority complex. He’s worried that somehow, on a fundamental level, he’s not enough. Sometimes, it even goes so far as for Kei to think that he’s just generally disappointing. He tries not to be. Kei wants to be relied on. He wants to be someone his friends can go to when they need something sturdy. 

Despite his personality, Kei considers himself sturdy. Well, maybe stubborn is a better word. Kei considers himself stubborn enough to be made sturdy. He’s just a little awkward. That’s all. People seem to mistake that for being unreliable. It’s a peeve of Kei’s. 

Tadashi isn’t like that. Tadashi is bright and warm, reliable in every sense of the word. Kei actually looks up to him a lot, not that he’d ever say anything like that to his face. Sure, Tadashi’s not perfect, but at least people rely on him. At least Kei relies on him. 

Tadashi is more easy going than Kei is. He has an easier time going with the flow, which makes him more personable. Kei thinks that Tadashi is the closest thing that he’s had to a better half. In truth, without Tadashi around, Kei isn’t exactly sure what would have become of him. 

It’s pointless thinking about these sorts of things though. Kei realized a long time ago that thinking about being better won’t automatically make him better. This is just the way he is and Kei’s learned to accept that, whatever it means. Still, none of this changes the fact that he likes you. 

Kei could mull over thought after thought and he doesn’t think it would have any effect on the fact that he’s definitely developed a crush. He’s positive it will go away. In fact, he’s not even sure if it’s real. Maybe Kei is just jealous of you the same way he’s jealous of Tadashi. You’re bright and warm like he is. You and Tadashi are cut from the same cloth, so maybe that’s why the two of you get along so well. 

In all honesty, Kei wishes he could be a little more like Tadashi for that reason. Maybe if he were more like Tadashi, he’d have the courage to fully accept these new and uncertain feelings for what they are. But he doesn’t have that kind of courage, not right now at least. He doesn’t have the courage to solidify and lean into his feelings. Kei doesn’t want to risk what little comfort and security he has. If the relationship between you both is a blank page, Kei doesn’t have anything important to write. What if it ruins the paper? What if when he erases it, it changes the thing on a molecular level for the worse? The notebook theory. 

— 

Despite everything, Kei is rather self-aware. At least in his own head he is. Kei knows that when he pretends he doesn’t like you, he really ends up liking you more. He knows that he’s touchy, that he’s awkward, that he comes across more crass than he intends to. Kei is clumsy, not stupid. That doesn’t mean that he has to acknowledge it. 

You’ve been coming around more often since the conversation Kei had with you in the library. Maybe you’re more comfortable now knowing that he doesn’t hate you, so you’re happier to join Tadashi in their shared apartment. 

Kei feels bad about making you think that he hates you. Actually, he feels really bad about it. Like, astronomically bad about it. Embarrassingly enough, it actually keeps him up at night. So he goes out of his way to be a little nicer to you. The only other person he’s ever done that for is Tadashi. 

He greets you properly when you pass, despite the flare up of a medical condition he’s yet to fully diagnose brought on by your presence. He asks you questions about your studies, partially because he is genuinely curious and partially because he doesn’t want you to hate him. He thinks he’d die if you hated him. Kei’s being brave in his own way. It’s little, but he’s doing it. 

As a result, the two of you have grown a little closer. Kei has your phone number now, though he rarely has any reason to text you. Typing out a message to you makes him nervous. It makes him red in the face when you’re not even there. Somehow, having your phone number feels vulnerable to him, like he has access to you whenever he wants and you him. It means that if you wanted, you could make him nervous without even being nearby. That’s a lot for Kei to think about. 

Kei sees you in the library sometimes too, but he never takes the initiative to speak to you. You always come up to him first, clumsily gathering your things the way you did the day you and him sorted out your friendship and plopping them down in front of him. 

Sometimes, you both go several hours without saying anything to each other. Other times, you’ll chat away about something while leaning forward on the desk and Kei has to pretend that he’s not wildly nervous at your proximity. You’re so friendly. So genuinely warm that Kei can physically feel it when you talk. Despite his nerves, Kei would describe you as comfortable. You’re a comfortable person to him, as alarming as that is. 

His crush is out of hand. It scares him, not that he’s actively thought about that. What started as him noticing you has quickly ballooned into him being painfully aware of you at all times. He kind of feels bad about it. You don’t seem to think that he’s anything more than a friend and it makes Kei feel bad that he thinks of you as anything but that. He doesn’t want you to be just a crush to him. Kei wants you to be like Tadashi, someone he can rely on and be comfortable with. He almost feels like he’s reversed what’s been done to him his whole life, like somehow he’s only become your friend because he wants something more. 

Truth is though, he doesn’t want anything more. Kei wants to stay exactly where he is. He doesn’t want his crush to develop any further. He doesn’t want to confess, he wants to forget. Even now, sitting on a couch in the library, he wants to imagine he doesn’t feel anything at all for you.  

“Hey, are you okay?” You tilt your head at him. 

“Huh? Me?” He questions. “Yeah, I’m fine.” 

“You seem a little distracted,” you smile. “You’ve been staring at your computer for like… 10 minutes with this blank look on your face.” 

“You’ve been staring at me for 10 minutes?” He raises an eyebrow, trying to play off the embarrassment of being caught like that. 

“Not staring at you,” you huff, “but I definitely noticed.” 

“Ha, creep,” he tilts his head up a little, blowing air out of his nose. 

“You’re twisted, you know?” 

“Whatever,” he shrugs his shoulders and looks back at his computer screen. Out of the corner of his eye, he sees you shake your head and smile before looking down at your work. 

Tadashi has said the same exact thing to him before. In highschool, after Kei had made a joke about his teammate Hinata’s height, Tadashi had given him a look and snorted that he’s so twisted. He’s been hearing that sort of thing his entire life. 

“Hey, are you cool if I skip out of here early?” You ask a few moments later. 

“Oh, yeah sure. I don’t mind,” he nods, hiding his disappointment. “I didn’t realize that we had like… set times to be here.” 

You laugh lightly. “Well, we don’t, but we tend to come and go at the same time, no? I kinda look forward to it.” 

Kei envies your honesty. You’re so honest all of the time. You say what you feel when it pops into your head. He wishes he could be like that, maybe then he would be able to say that he does too. Instead, he just nods and swallows his heart back down. You smile at him again and then gather your things. 

“You’ll be home on Friday night, right?” 

“Uhm, yeah? Why?” 

“Tadashi invited me and a few friends over, did he tell you?” 

“I think he mentioned it.” Kei has actually been thinking about it for the last couple days. 

“Good, I’ll see you, right?” 

“Yeah, you will.” 

“Great, talk to you later then!” You smile and with that, you walk away. 

You sounded so certain in that statement. Talk to you later. You said it like it was inevitable. Thinking about that, Kei can’t help but watch you go. He even likes looking at the back of you, though he wishes he could see your face too. It feels worse to be walked away from than walked towards. 

Kei can’t tell anymore if what he feels is romance or jealousy. It’s probably both. It’s probably some mix of the two that he can’t quite sort out. He wishes it weren’t that way. Kei gets the feeling that he might be ruined. 

So he just watched you leave the library. Someone is waiting for you at the top of the stairwell. Kei can tell they’re a guy and despite the reluctance of his feelings, his stomach drops anyway when you nudge his shoulder with yours and loop your arm around his. That’s something you haven’t done to Kei before. Touch him. You touch this other person so easily. It makes Kei jealous. 

It makes sense that you might be seeing someone, that there might be someone else. After all, you’re you. Desirable. You look up at the stranger, leaning on him, smiling and flashing your teeth. Yeah, it makes sense. 

Turns out, it’s easier to pretend that he doesn’t feel anything when he thinks you’re interested in someone else. He likes to think it will save him the time of wondering. 

—

Kei has cleaned his room approximately four times today. Sure, it’s overboard, but every time he goes into it, he notices something else that needs to be spruced up. Like a pot with a leak, there is always something that he seemed to miss the last time he went through and cleaned up. 

It’s not like you’ll be in his room tonight anyway, but you will be in his apartment and that’s close enough to his room that he, for whatever reason, needs to make it so spotless that it looks like a set. Kei knows though, that even when you’re here, he’ll be wondering if there’s something else that he missed beyond the closed door and he’ll think about it incessantly. 

He’s been avoiding the thought of him liking you. Instead, Kei cleans and cleans and then cleans some more for good measure. It’s not like he has any sort of claim on you and he knows that it’s stupid to feel jealous over one interaction he witnessed by chance, but his mind is running away with him. Was that person your boyfriend? Has he been begrudgingly pining over a taken person all these months? Do you think that he’s creepy because of it? 

He doesn’t get to be upset over the idea that you’re seeing someone else. Why wouldn’t you be? Kei’s done absolutely nothing to indicate his interest in you (or lack thereof), besides maybe telling you that he doesn’t hate you. He has no right to feel the way he does, but he spirals anyway. His insecurities, the ones that gnaw at him in the hours before he falls asleep, play in a constant loop in his head. His unreliability, his unpleasant personality, his cynicism, the baggage he carries with him like a badge. All of it piles up one by one. 

Kei feels like a kid again, losing himself over such a simple interaction, over something so miniscule that it might not even be considered anything at all. There are a plethora of reasons for his feeling like this and Kei thinks he could draw one of his issues out of a hat and it would still somehow address the situation at hand, but all he really feels is hurt and he doesn’t want to explain it away. Kei finds that liking someone hurts. It hurts more than it feels good and the uncertainty chews at his patience and leaves it razor thin. It’s not your fault, nor is it the person Kei’s convinced himself you’re seeing, but he needs someone to blame and it can’t be himself. 

The idea of you relying on someone else makes him nauseous. He’d never considered the thought before, that you find him as unreliable as others do. Kei wants to be relied on, most of all by you, and that fact makes him upset. He’s afraid of what you think of him and without the confidence to accept his feelings, it threatens to crush him. 

Kei’s got this itch over it, so he tries to distract himself. Cleaning his space to prepare for you helps him delude himself that he doesn’t quite like you at all. It’s not your fault. He’s just confused, like his parents were when they married each other. It hurts. Like they were when they had him to try and fix their marriage, which had started to fall apart even when Akiteru was an only child. He’s confused. He’s jealous over your ability to live the way Kei has always wanted to. That’s all this is. Nothing more and nothing less. He feels like he’s being split in two, stretched thin between two modes of thinking. 

Kei glances over his shoulder and into his room one last time. He’s forgotten to wipe the mirror. He goes back in and the cycle starts itself over. 

—

He’s not proud of his behavior. Kei thinks only a seriously huge asshole would be proud of the kind of behavior he displayed tonight. He regrets it immensely, though some part of him is begrudgingly holding onto the idea that maybe he was right to be so short tempered. Of course, that’s a lunatic’s idea. 

Tadashi is standing by the apartment door, mumbling something to you behind it. Over Tadashi’s shoulder, he sees you shake your head and in response, Tadashi gives a small bow before shutting the door to the shared apartment. Then, Tadashi turns and walks towards him. 

Kei doesn’t want to look at him, but Tadashi, for some reason, commands his gaze. 

“Is there a reason you were such a huge cunt tonight?” Tadashi sort of spits the words. They land at Kei’s feet and roll around before settling. 

“What are you talking about? I was normal,” he answers, though the statement sounds like a lie the moment it leaves his lips. 

“Bullshit,” Tadashi says. “You were being an asshole the second they walked through the door and you’ve been one to me all day.” 

Kei scoffs, his cheeks burning, “I’ve just been tired, dude. Besides, what does it matter? You’re closer to all of them than I am.”

“What? You’re tired so you just get to be a huge asshole?” 

“No,” Kei responds. 

“So then what was that?” 

Kei doesn’t really know. He doesn’t know what prompted him to act so cold or make such snide comments. It’s true, he’d been in a bad mood all day and he knows that Tadashi has borne the brunt of his misplaced emotions, but even Kei is confused as to why he’d acted the way he did. Still though, there is a part of him that knows that it was connected to his spiraling and what he saw in the library. He’d sound insane if he said it out loud, like somehow his growth was stunted in the third grade, but Kei is sure it had something to do with liking you and the hurt that comes with it. 

It’s not as if he’d been outwardly mean, but he had been cold. There are parts of himself that Kei doesn’t want you to see, sections of his personality that he ropes off from you because despite not liking you, he wants you to see the best in him. Tonight, he managed to somehow show off the worst. 

It started with the noise when everyone had arrived. You, Hinata, Kageyama, Tanaka, Kiyoko, and Yachi had all piled into the apartment in one large group. Kei’d been sitting on the couch and the sound of the door startled him right off the bat. He assumed that by the time they all had rounded the corner into the living room, his face was already sour, because everyone had greeted him cautiously. 

It’s no surprise that everyone was so loud. Kei has known this particular group for many years and they, having all gone to school or work nearby, pile into his apartment often for events like these. You were really the only new factor in all of it and while Kei is known as a touchy person, he certainly was more touchy than usual tonight. 

You’d been trying to talk to him all evening and Kei, in a desperate attempt to avoid whatever lingering feelings he had for you, had been shutting you down at every turn. Thinking back on it, he’s endlessly embarrassed. You didn’t deserve that. You’d been nothing but kind to him and there Kei was holding a grudge over you for something he had no right to be angry about whatsoever. He had been holding a grudge over something that he’d learned later that evening that wasn’t even true. 

Kei thinks that what Tadashi is referring to, was deliberately picking a fight with Tanaka. Kei and Tanaka have never been particularly close. Even in high school, his boisterous and somewhat obnoxious personality has always rubbed Kei the wrong way. Despite that, Tanaka has somehow managed to maintain a connection to him through university and the two of them have established a tentative but honest friendship. 

You had been sitting on the arm of the couch beside Tanaka, leaning over him to look at something he was showing you on his phone. Then, you laughed a little too hard and Kei felt that familiar sense of injustice rise to his throat, thick and heavy. It’s an ugly feeling, the kind that makes Kei feel sick when he’s in bed late at night. Bile rose in his throat in the form of harsh words. Jealousy in the form of the verbal venom Kei excels at. 

For Kei, Tanaka was an easy target, someone he could poke at and get a satisfying rise out of. In the moment, the rise he’d gotten from Tanaka by making snide comments about the volume of his voice and his particular obsession with pretty girls had been exactly that, satisfying. 

He’d picked a small fight. Nothing physical, but just enough to get him irritated. Kei’s not proud of it, but he’d be lying if he said he hadn’t done it deliberately. After all, Tanaka has never been the type to be the bigger person and turn his nose up. 

Sometimes, when Kei is experiencing emotions he’d rather not deal with, he decides to obsess over one single thing. Usually, it’s cleaning or schoolwork. Tonight, it happened to be the volume of Tanaka’s voice, which he knows was a shitty thing to do. Despite wanting to be reliable, Kei can’t help but feel that he was endlessly immature, lashing out at someone completely unrelated to the situation just because he could. 

Tadashi pulls him from his thoughts. 

“I thought you liked them, dude,” his voice is even, letting up on the anger. 

“Who?” Kei plays dumb. 

Tadashi responds with your name and Kei stiffens slightly. “I thought you guys had gotten closer. What happened?” 

“Nothing happened,” Kei says. It’s the truth. Absolutely nothing happened. Kei had spiraled all on his own. 

“Why did you ignore them then?” 

“I didn’t ignore them,” Kei says. Again, it’s not a lie. He may have shut conversations down and been a little cold, but Kei couldn’t ignore you if he tried, it’s sort of the whole problem he’s dealing with now. 

“Maybe, but you were cold. Like… needlessly.” 

“I was fucking normal, Tadashi. You should know me well enough by now to know that,” Kei spits. 

“That’s the problem though, isn’t it? I know you and I know that shit wasn’t normal. You’re twisted, but you’re not an outright asshole, Kei. What’s going on?” 

“I was normal, Tadashi. Just because I didn’t bounce around or get rowdy, doesn’t mean that something is wrong,” Kei answers. 

“Yeah, but you were like… majorly fucking weird, Kei. You were being an asshole. Don’t you like them? Don’t you want to be nice to them?” 

“I don’t.” 

“You don’t want to be nice to them?” Tadashi scoffs, rolling his eyes. 

“No, not that. I don’t like them like that anymore,” Kei lies. 

“Oh please, that’s such horseshit,” Tadashi laughs bitterly. 

“Get off my ass, Tadashi. I don’t fucking feel that way about them anymore,” Kei insists. 

“Did something happen?” 

“No, literally nothing happened! Why does something have to happen? I just don’t like them,” Kei feels himself getting indignant. Tadashi doesn’t deserve this either, but he seems to be indiscriminate with his poor behavior tonight. 

Tadashi looks at Kei for a moment, studying him and calculating all of the things only Tadashi could know about him. Kei tries to hide it. 

“Jesus, Kei, you’ve got to stop doing this shit,” Tadashi touches his hand to his forehead. 

“Doing what?” 

“Getting all in your head about every single connection you’ve ever had with a person,” Tadashi raises his voice. 

“What’s that supposed to mean?” 

“It means I’ve seen you do this a million times! You start to really feel something for a person and then you fucking back away like a dog with its tail between its legs!” 

“I don’t do that!” 

“Yes, you do! You sabotage yourself until the other person is forced to do something about it!” Tadashi exhales. 

“I’ve never done that deliberately! What does someone else’s actions have to do with me?” 

“It doesn’t have to do with you,” Tadashi says, “It has to do with your parents.” 

The wind is knocked out of Kei, air sucked from his lungs. He furrows his eyebrows at Tadashi, his mouth slightly open. 

“I’m right, aren’t I?” Tadashi pushes, angry and trying to make him listen. “Not every relationship is like your parents’, Kei.” 

Tadashi knows he’s stepped over the line the moment he says it. If it hadn’t registered before, it registers clearly on his face now, regret settling over Tadashi’s usually bright features. Kei gapes at him for a moment, running through his thoughts and trying to pick out one that best verbalizes what it is he feels. Kei comes up empty. 

“Shit-” Tadashi starts towards him. “Kei, I’m sorry I didn’t mean that. I’m just pissed off I didn’t mean to-” 

Kei pushes past him. “Tadashi, I know you mean well, but don’t try to tell me about my fucking parents.” 

Tadashi doesn’t try to stop him when Kei flings the front door open and walks outside.

—

Kei remembers it like it was yesterday. He remembers all of it. 

He can clearly recall the way shattered glass looked on the marble tiles of his childhood home. White porcelain, broken up into multitudes by his mother and father. They never laid hands on each other, but everything else in the house was fair game. Kei’s lost count of the amount of broken glass dishes and picture frames he’d swept from the floor. 

Kei’s parents had always been on and off in their affection for each other. One minute, they were deeply in love and the next, they were at each other’s throats. Neither of them were bad people, but they made each other bad people. The two of them brought out the worst in each other, maybe on account of knowing the other so well. 

Akiteru was an accident. His brother knows this because when his parents argued, they never let him forget it. In their spats, leverage was whatever they could get their hands on, and that just happened to be Akiteru and the unfortunate circumstances of an accidental pregnancy. 

His parents got married at 19, thinking that they’d be able to handle a child, that their marriage was anything but rushed. They convinced themselves that it was love, when the reality was that Akiteru came because they were too young and stupid to prevent it. At least, that’s what Kei and Akiteru had settled on in the evenings after the yelling had died down and they were left to make sense of it in their shared bedroom. 

They had Kei to fix the marriage. Kei knows this because, like Akiteru, his father’s marital “solution” in the form of a second child was constant leverage to his mother. Kei grew up asking Akiteru why his mother and father even had children in the first place. 

Their relationship was rocky and unstable, predictable and toxic. They, like Kei, would do things to get rises out of each other. They’d make digs, do things to get under the other’s skin. They did it for attention, for affection, or out of loathing for the person they’d decided to make their life partner. When things settled, they got bored. His parents often mistakened calmness for complacency in their relationship. His parents loved each other, but they hated each other just as much, and it was he and Akiteru who paid the price. 

They got divorced when he was fourteen and any chance of Kei having a normal family went to the courthouse with the divorce papers. Akiteru was 20 at the time and managed to avoid the brunt of the custody battle. Kei still gets unexplainably angry with Akiteru for leaving him alone, though he knows that it’s not his fault. The only way Kei could make sense of it was through blame and it was easier to blame Akiteru for lying about volleyball or leaving him alone than it was to blame himself. Both Kei’s father and mother tried for full custody, not because they loved him that much, but because they knew that it would destroy the other. In the end, Kei spent his weekdays with his mother because she lived closer to his school, and weekends with his father just because. 

It happens all the time. People grow together, then grow apart, and grow to loathe each other. Kei watched it happen to his parents, he watched it happen to his friends, he watched it happen to himself with his own reflection. That’s just the way it goes. 

The air outside of his apartment is cool and breezy. He can feel the wind through his sweater, cutting through the gaps in the stitching and into his skin. Kei feels like he can think a little better out here, sitting on the short concrete wall with his back to the apartment building. He stares at his feet, outstretched in front of him. He's still wearing his house slippers. 

Kei did this once when he was younger. The fight that night had been particularly bad and his parents had resulted to throwing things across their bedroom. Kei could hear picture frames shatter through two walls and he wondered which memories they’d decided to trash. A particularly loud shout had sent Kei out of the front door and onto the curb in front of the house. 

He remembers crying, staring at his house slippers on the pavement, afraid because he could hear the shouting even from the lawn. Akiteru had come out to get him, sitting down beside him on the curb and putting his arm around him. 

“Are mom and dad gonna get divorced?” Kei had asked through sniffles. 

“Divorced? No, no,” Akiteru answered. “It’s just a rough patch. It happens to all couples. Mommy and Daddy will be fine.” 

“It’s normal?” Kei sniffled. 

Akiteru paused for a moment. Looking back, Kei realizes that Akiteru was debating on whether or not to lie to protect him. Kei wishes he hadn’t. 

“Yeah, it’s normal.” 

Normal. Kei realizes that he doesn’t exactly know what a normal relationship looks like. He is his parents' son. What they had in them, he has in him. Kei knows that those habits, the digs, the sour statements, the passive aggressiveness, are all things he’s picked up from watching them. Some role models they were. 

He needs to apologize to Tadashi. He may have overstepped, but Kei knows that he’d been an asshole tonight. He’ll need to apologize to Tanaka as well. And to you, which is perhaps the scariest part of this. He wants to apologize for his behavior, but apologizing means that he has to admit that he’d acted the way his parents did, out of jealousy and a pull for attention. Yup, he’s his parents’ son alright. 

Kei tilts his head up toward the sky. Only half of it is visible, the other half blocked by the three story apartment complex directly behind him. It’s a clear night, but he can’t see any stars and the moon is nowhere to be found. Kei wonders when the morning will come. It’s a few hours off, but he thinks about how the sky will look when the sun begins to rise. 

“Kei,” a familiar voice calls from in front of him. 

You’re a few feet away, your hands clasped in front of you. 

“Thought you went home,” he says. 

“Yeah well, I had intended to,” you start, “but you seemed off and I felt weird going back without checking on you. Can I sit?” 

Kei shrugs his shoulders, mortified and angry at being caught like this. He appreciates the thought, but you’re the last person he wants to see right now. It just means he needs to face his shortcomings sooner. 

“Are you okay?” 

“I’m fine,” Kei answers automatically. 

“Just decided on some fresh air?” You smile a little and Kei blows air out of his nose. 

“Yup, that’s exactly it.” 

You sit next to him with your legs outstretched the same way his are, your hands are laced together in front of you, hanging down between your thighs. Kei doesn’t make an effort to say anything and neither do you. Instead, he just trains his head back up towards the sky and attempts to collect his thoughts, pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose. 

Strangely, tonight he doesn’t feel nervous. Maybe it’s because he doesn’t have the energy to. Maybe he’s too preoccupied with being sorry to pay any mind to the heart palpitations he gets when you’re around. Maybe it’s because even though he showed you the worst of him tonight, you still came back. It’s a small hope, but it’s there. 

“Hey,” your voice comes quietly, “I don’t know what’s going on, but if you need- I mean- if you want to talk about it, I’m a pretty good ear.” 

Kei nods a little. 

“I’m sorry,” he says, “about tonight.” 

“I didn’t come here for an apology, you know?” You exhale a little. 

“Yeah, but you deserve one,” he says. “I was pretty shitty to you.” 

“Yeah, you were,” you agree, catching Kei off guard, “but it happens to all of us. Sometimes we feel things and just can’t keep them inside, you know?” 

“Yeah,” he agrees, swallowing down his shame. 

There’s another long silence. You don’t move to touch him or talk to him, instead, you provide steady company. Kei, as strange as it is, is comforted by your presence. 

“I fought with Tadashi,” Kei says after a few minutes. 

“Today?” 

“Yeah, tonight. After everyone left,” he says. “I deserved it though. I’ve been pretty shitty to him all day.” 

You hum, leaning back on your hands. 

“I did the same shit in high school too, you know?” Kei starts. “We’ve uhm- we’ve known each other for a while, the group that was over tonight. Around the end of middle school some shit happened and I uh- I took out a lot of what I was feeling on Tadashi and the others, but mostly Tadashi because he was the only one who knew.” 

Kei isn’t sure why he’s telling you this. Maybe Tadashi was right. Maybe this is another attempt at self sabotage. 

“You bullied him?” You ask, a little surprised. 

Kei shakes his head. “No, but I wasn’t very nice either. Anyone could tell you that. I thought I was past it, though,” he admits, a little defeated. 

“Did you ever apologize?” 

Kei looks up at you in surprise. Your eyes are full of something, curiosity, maybe pity. 

“For what you did in school?” 

He nods. “Countless times, and not just to Tadashi either, to everyone.” 

“You know, stuff like this happens,” you say. “When I was little, I used to hate sharing. Toys, food, friends. I’d hate it when my friends were friends with other people. It made me insecure and I’d get mad at them for it. I grew out of it, but sometimes I still get that way and I have to apologize later.” 

Kei laughs. It’s strikingly similar to what’s happening now, not that you’d have any way of knowing. 

“I can’t imagine you doing that,” he says. 

“I’m serious,” you say. “I still get weird over it sometimes.” 

Kei shakes his head a little, smiling. 

“All that I’m saying is that sometimes we slip up, that’s all. It’s normal,” you continue. “Not that I’m condoning it. Just saying that it doesn’t make you a horrible person. It makes you human.” 

“Thanks,” he says softly. 

“No problem,” you respond. 

“So why’d you fight with him tonight?” 

“He was angry with me because I was an asshole,” Kei shrugs.

“And you’re mad that he called you out?” You give a quiet and somewhat incredulous laugh. 

Kei shakes his head. “No, I’m angry about what he said after.” 

“What’d he say?” 

Kei debates on telling you. He doesn’t want to make himself out to be a victim. After all, Tadashi meant no harm, even if his comment did exactly that. 

“The argument kind of switched subjects,” Kei tiptoes around the fact that the subject was you. “He brought up a bad habit of mine and I got defensive.” 

“Okay,” you say, waiting for him to say more. 

“Remember when I said that something happened at the end of middle school and only Tadashi knew about it?” When you nod, Kei continues. “My parents got divorced. They were a bad match and it was messy. He brought it up.” 

You nod again, your eyes wide. 

“He didn’t mean any harm, I know that,” Kei inhales. “But uh- that stuff kind of sticks with you. Well, it’s stuck with me and I didn’t like having it used to explain my behaviors, even if he was right. I’m not deflecting or anything though. I know I was the problem tonight.” 

“Sure,” you say. “I’m sorry about your parents.” 

Kei shrugs. “It’s in the past. They’re both remarried now with new kids.” 

The last sentence leaves Kei with a sour taste in his mouth. His parents are good people, but after his childhood, he doesn’t think they have any business having more children. Maybe they’re capable of being good for them, but Kei doesn’t like to imagine that. It makes him feel like their marriage wasn’t the problem, but he and Akiteru were. 

“You say that like they got a new pet,” you smile a little. “Are you still in touch with them?” 

“Yeah,” he says. “I visit whenever I go back home, though they’re really not too far from here.” 

“That’s good of you.” 

“Well, they are my parents,” Kei says plainly. 

You’re the only other person he’s divulged this to by choice and your reactions, understanding and level-headed, make him feel better. It’s like getting a weight off of his chest. This is the worst of him. This little bit of information, his history of being unable to fully confront his feelings, of taking anger out on others when he was young, is where his problems originate. 

“Yeah, but you’re allowed to feel what you feel about it,” you say. “My mom died when I was eleven. Texting and driving. I’m still angry at her for it.” 

“I’m sorry,” he says. 

You shrug and offer him a wry smile. “It’s in the past, but I’m still angry even though I shouldn’t be.” 

“At her?” 

“Yeah,” you nod. “She made a stupid mistake that we’re constantly warned about and left my dad and me behind. I was so angry with her, still am. I love her though, perceived faults and all.” 

Kei thinks about whether or not he loves his parents. He thinks he does, even if he resents them. Kei can’t imagine what he’d do without them. Even though his childhood had few emotional comforts, he still can’t think about a world where he doesn’t visit home to have his mother’s cooking. That’s a world that you live in. 

“That’s hard.” It’s all Kei can think to offer. 

“It was,” you say. “Got easier though as soon as I started accepting things. Now I just miss her more than I hate her.”

Another bout of silence follows this. It must be close to two in the morning and he’s been outside so long that he can no longer feel the tip of his nose. 

“Anyway, about tonight,” you say, “it’s not a crime to feel what you feel, but if you need help, that’s what we’re here for. It’s easier to accept feelings and get hurt than to ignore them, don’t you think?” 

“Yeah,” Kei says, looking to face you. “Thank you.” 

You’re so pretty. It’s striking. The curvature and angles of your face, the gentle look in your eyes, softened by the conversation. Kei finds himself thinking that despite not wanting to face you a few hours earlier, he’s grateful that you showed up. You’re good in ways that Kei can hardly fathom. 

“You should go inside. Tadashi is probably wondering where you are,” you say, standing up. “Plus,” you pinch the tip of his nose between your middle and pointer knuckles, “your nose looks like a cherry tomato.”

“Rude,” he says, startled by the sudden touch. 

“Payback,” you shrug your shoulders and Kei rolls his eyes. 

“Do you need me to walk you home?” Kei offers, a bit nervous about you walking home on your own. 

“I’d love to take you up on that, but you seem tired and I don’t live very far,” you respond. “I’ll call you when I get home though, okay? Since you’re so worried.” 

Kei laughs a little and then nods, standing up. “Yeah, I am.” 

His honesty surprises even him, but you just tilt your head and give him a small smile. 

“I’ll see you on Monday,” you say. “Thanks for the apology” 

“Anytime.”

“I hope not,” you laugh and Kei follows suit. 

You begin to turn on your heel, giving a small wave. 

Kei doesn’t know what overcomes him, but he calls out your name and reaches for your wrist. Before he has a moment to think about what he’s doing, he pulls you to his chest in a hug. You stiffen and then relax in his grip, wrapping your arms around him. Your body is warmer than his, sending heat through the gaps in his sweater. 

“You can call even if it’s not to tell me you got home safe,” he says. “If you want to.” 

You squeeze him around the middle. “Okay, I will.” 

When Kei lets go, he finds that his face is burning. The cold has been replaced by a flush of blood, making his vision a little syrupy.

“Thanks for coming back,” he says. “Get home safe.” 

“Of course,” you sound a little dazed, wearing an expression that Kei thinks might match his. “And I will.” 

Then, you smile at him, flashing your teeth and giving him a wave. You hold up your phone and point to it. 

“Expect a call!” 

Kei nods and raises his arm to wave goodbye.

He stands and watches your figure as you walk down the sidewalk and turn the corner. When you’re out of sight, he lingers by the door to his building, just in case you decide to come back. You don’t come back, but Kei lingers anyway, considering the conversation. 

He goes inside, intent on apologizing to Tadashi. When he opens the door to his apartment, the lights are still on in the living room and Tadashi gets up from the couch and walks quickly down the hall to him.

“Kei, I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to-” 

“Don’t worry,” Kei says. “I know. I’m sorry about tonight too. And for treating you like that today. And for high school.” 

“High school?” Tadashi says, confused. “Why are you bringing up high school?” 

“Just wanted to apologize again.” 

Kei can feel his eyes drooping, exhaustion creeping into his body and replacing the elated feeling he had moments before. 

“I didn’t mean to bring your parents into it. How you like someone is none of my business,” Tadashi says. “I was out of line.” 

“So was I,” Kei admits through a tired sigh. “I shouldn’t have acted that way. I’ll apologize to the others in the morning.” 

Tadashi narrows his eyes a little and nods. Kei, besieged by that sleepy late night feeling, moves towards his bedroom. 

“Hey, Kei,” his voice comes out a little louder this time. “You’re being surprisingly easy-going. Are we good?” 

Kei scoffs a little, rubbing his eyes. “I just had some time to think, that’s all. And yeah, we’re good.” 

“Okay, are you good?” 

“Yeah, I am,” Kei says. 

Before he closes the door to his room, he furrows his eyebrows and makes a firm decision. 

“By the way,” Tadashi turns to him, cocking his head to the side in response. “I lied. I do like them.” 

“Could have guessed as much,” he responds, laughing a little. “See you in the morning.” 

“Yup, see you in the morning.” 

Kei shuts the door to his room. It clicks into place quietly. His room is spotless. It looks like a room that could be easily emptied at any time. He sighs, stepping into it and laying down on his bed. His phone is on the comforter next to him, lying face up. 

When it lights up, it illuminates the ceiling above him and he answers the phone without needing to check who's calling. 

“Hello?” 

“Hey, I got home safe,” he hears your keys clink against something and then the sound of a door shutting. Then, he hears the sound of you laying down on your bed. He imagines you’re lying the same way he is. 

“Good, I’m glad,” he says. “No trouble?” 

“No trouble at all,” you say. He can hear your smile. 

“Thanks again for coming back tonight,” he says, turning over onto his side and letting the phone rest on the bed in front of his face. 

“Of course,” you say.

He doesn’t know what else to say. His nerves have caught up to him and your voice through the speaker sounds so close, like you’re whispering directly into his ear. 

“Okay, well I’m going to go to bed,” Kei starts. 

“Kei?” you say. 

“Yeah?” 

“I’m gonna take you up on your offer. About calling you. Just wanted you to know.” 

“Okay,” he swallows. 

“I feel a lot closer to you.”

“Yeah, me too.” 

“Goodnight, Kei,” you practically whisper. 

“Goodnight,” he responds, lowering his voice the same way you did. You hang up the phone and the call ends. 

He blinks at his phone for a moment before standing up and getting ready for bed. Kei goes through the motions while thinking about how the evening got here. He’d been certain before it began that he no longer liked you, that he was confused. Now, he’s certain of the opposite. 

He decides that he’ll like you for real this time. Even if he’s afraid of hurting himself, of hurting you.

Kei lays down in his bed and faces the ceiling. He thinks about his parents, about your mother, about you. The cadence of your voice, the slight tremor in it. He thinks about your expressions, understanding and unintrusive. He thinks about your history, the anger you’d admitted to him and the grace you’d given him in his own circumstances. 

He dreams of braids, like DNA. Coils of pink yarn woven together in an intricate pattern. A molecular change not visible to the naked eye. Morning comes like liquid gold, spilling across his bedspread in slats through the window.

—

Kei’s apologies go smoothly. Tadashi’s friends—his friends—are good people. They know him better than most and field his awkward, stumbling apology with steady hands. 

He’d explained his sour mood in as little detail as possible, deliberately omitting his feelings for you while doing so, and he made a special effort to apologize to Tanaka. He’s easygoing and quick to forget, but Kei knows that even after accepting the apology, Tanaka will lord it over his head for a week or two. Tanaka thinks those kinds of things are funny and Kei won’t try to tell him otherwise. 

You do take Kei up on his offer. You call him twice a week now. Sometimes it’s to tell him something relevant to him, other times, you just whisper into the phone that you just felt like talking. Either way, it’s not good for his heart. Kei thinks that at this rate, it might just give out. 

There are a lot of things that Kei could say about liking you. It makes his days a little brighter. When he remembers that he has someone he cares about like that, he feels a surge of excitement for no particular reason. He finds that he looks forward to seeing you and goes out of his way to do so, more than he did before he was willing to admit it. 

He’s noticed the way you eat, like every bite of food is even better than the last. He’s noticed that you wipe the condensation off of your cups before each sip. He’s noticed that when you’re studying, you’ll pull at the collar of your shirt absentmindedly and then become frustrated when it is stretched out of place. Kei likes all of these things about you. 

Kei has also found that liking someone hurts. It hurts worse than he thought it would. Insecurity weaves its way into even the most minor of interactions. He’s self conscious almost all of the time, adjusting his hair, clothing, glasses right down to minor details. As of late, Kei appears more put together than he ever has, but the reality is that he’s probably the least put together he’s ever been. 

When you’re around, Kei is awkward and clumsy. He drops things, trips over nothing, loses control over his lanky limbs and overshoots things. He feels like a teenager again, not that he’s that far off from one. 

Still, one thing overshadows all of this. Kei is so comfortable around you, so peaceful despite the nerves and insecurity, that he’s able to forget about the worst of it. Forgetting about the worst of things is not something Kei is particularly good at. He’s cynical by nature. You help to ease the burden of it. 

The coffee shop he’s visiting with you today is quiet. The room is decorated with dark oak wood and the tables are accented by the rings of the trees the wood was cut from. The early spring light filters in at angles through the windows letting out onto the street. It falls across your notebooks and the knuckles of your hand, wrapped evenly around a black pen. 

You’d brought him here to study instead of going to the library and Kei can’t help but think that it feels like a date. His tea sits half-finished in a mug beside his laptop, beginning to cool to room temperature. Your coffee sits by your unoccupied hand and every now and then, you’ll reach to take a sip of the warm beverage without even glancing up. 

Kei has spent so much time watching you today, that he’s hardly gotten any work done. His computer is open on a document with a paragraph of writing about nudity in the classical period, which he hasn’t touched in about 10 minutes. He’s been clicking blankly around the page, adding spaces and then deleting them and then glancing up over the edge of the screen to look at the way you purse your lips when you’re focused. 

“You’d get a lot more done if you stopped staring,” you say, not looking up from your notebook. 

Kei chokes on his exhale. “What?” 

You laugh a little, looking up at him through your lashes. God, you’re pretty. 

“The document?” You chuckle. “You’re not fooling anyone by clicking around randomly like that.” 

“Oh,” Kei furrows his eyebrows and shakes his head a little. “Yeah, just can’t seem to focus.” 

“What’s the paper on?” You set down your pen and cross your arms on the table. 

“It’s not really a paper,” he says. “It’s a visual analysis on the Aphrodite of Knidos.” 

“Is that the one without the arms?” 

“No, but they come from the same family of statues,” Kei smiles a little. 

You hum a bit. “Do you like it?” 

“Like, do I think the statue’s pretty?” Kei closes the screen of his laptop to see you better. “Yeah, I do. Learning about the history of it is a bit depressing though.” 

“Why?” 

“Well, Aphrodite was one of the most powerful Greek gods, right?” He says, and you nod your head and roll your eyes because you know that already. “But this statue group intrudes on a private moment of hers. She’s trying to cover up her body, probably just before or after a bath. It’s meant to be humiliating.” 

You tilt your head. “Sounds more interesting than molecular structures at least.” 

Kei laughs a little. “Yeah, I think it’s just a bit more interesting.” 

“Why did you choose to study art history?” You question, leaning forward on your elbows. 

Kei feels awkward at receiving the question. He doesn’t like talking about himself much, let alone his passions. They tend to get away from him. 

“Probably because I’m no good at art,” he smiles a little. 

“Such a shame, what with your artist’s hands and all,” you reach across the table and tap his knuckle. 

Kei feels the color rise to his cheeks. 

“You’re no good at art, so you study art history instead?” You press for more. 

“Yeah,” he says. “I like things that people make with their hands. There’s a lot of human expression in ancient art, good and bad. Gives a bit more context into who we were before.” 

You lean back in the chair, grinning at him. Kei bites the inside of his cheek and tries not to notice the slope of your neck. 

“Why are you studying molecular bio?” He changes the subject. 

You shrug your shoulders. “I want a good cushy job that makes me a lot of money.” 

Kei watches the corners of your lips curl up. 

“Plus,” you continue, “I wanted to show off a little bit.” 

“So you put yourself through four years of torture?” He raises an eyebrow. 

“Yup, I’m a huge masochist,” you grin. 

“You STEM kids are unbearable, you know?” Kei snorts. 

“But you like me anyway, yeah?” 

Kei nods, heat creeping up his neck, and watches you return to your work. 

It’s true, he does like you anyway. Kei likes you so much, in fact, that it frightens him. Well, the idea of liking someone has always frightened Kei, whether he’s noticed it or not. Commitment, or lack thereof, make Kei nervous in the same way heights do. He feels like he could lose his footing at any moment. 

That’s probably why he doesn’t want to do anything in particular about his feelings. Kei is content with just feeling them. He’s content to just be able to like you in his own way, even if nothing ever comes of it. He probably shouldn’t do anything about them, considering the back and forth battle he’s waged in his mind over the last few months. He’s too indecisive to do anything but like you, and even that feels herculean to accept. 

Not that liking you is a hard thing to do. You’re easy to like. It’s easy for him to picture touching you. It’s easy for Kei to imagine late night conversations and little intimacies shared over damp pillows. You’re easy to talk to, floating through conversations and navigating conflict with a sure step, something Kei can’t do. It’s not hard to find things to admire. 

Kei imagines what it would be like to be with you. He imagines the feel of your hands in his, how you might look spread beneath him, the inside of your thighs pressing against his hips. He imagines how his glasses might fog up with your breath and slip down the bridge of his nose. What do you taste like? What do you feel like? 

A little alarm bell sounds in his head. This is a dangerous line of thought, a greedy one. Kei doesn’t think he can handle greed, not when it comes to you. He got a taste of it that day when he saw you leave with someone else and again the following Friday. Kei doesn’t mix well with it, with wanting. Still, he wants. 

—

It’s a breezy day. It cuts the growing humidity as the beginning of May creeps on. This is no doubt one of the best times of year, though Kei prefers the fall or winter. Still, even with the slightly sticky air, his walk to class is pleasant. He’d even venture to say that it’s good. 

Light filters through the trees, blooming with their spring flowers, and in the distance he can see a familiar row of cherry blossoms just beginning to bloom. As he approaches them, he finds himself admiring their delicate petals, wondering just how brief their bloom will be before they come cascading down. One tree among the pink rows has yet to open its flowers. The buds sit on their branches, shades of green and gray. A late bloomer. This tree will no doubt flower once the other petals have fallen, and when it does, it’ll become the most eye-catching thing on the street. 

Kei admires it for a moment, standing below the thing and looking up through its twisting branches. It’s so small, much smaller than the rest of its counterparts, and its branches don’t look too full of yet-to-bloom buds either. 

There was a tree like this outside of Kei’s childhood home, the one his family lived in together when it was whole. It would always bloom a week after the others and every year he would worry that it never would. Of course, he kept this fear to himself, but he often watched it from his bedroom window when Akiteru was out. He’d press his face against the glass and pray for the flowers to come so that it didn’t get left behind. Sure enough though, it would bloom without fail and leave scattered pink petals across his yard and doorstep. Kei wonders if this tree in front of him will do the same. 

“Thinking about changing your major to plant sciences, Kei?” 

He jumps, started by your voice and your proximity. 

“Jesus,” Kei turns, “you need a bell or something.” 

“You’re the one standing in public staring at a tree with no flowers on it,” you laugh a little. 

Kei shrugs his shoulders, not really willing to give an explanation for the train of thought he was just on. 

“Where’re you headed?” he questions. 

“Dropping off an assignment,” you smile lightly, “wanna come with me?” 

“I can’t. I’ve got a class in 15.” 

“Fifteen minutes is fifteen minutes,” you shrug. “We’ll make it.” 

“We?” Kei raises an eyebrow. 

“Yeah, you come with me to drop off my paper and then I drop you off at class. It’s a win-win.” 

“Sounds like I’m just doing a lot of extra walking,” Kei snorts. 

“Yeah, but you get to do it with me so it’ll be more fun.” 

Kei folds and goes with you to drop off your assignment. It’s an essay assigned by an old-fashioned professor who doesn’t like electronic submissions. You comment off-handedly on what a waste of paper it is and Kei nods, just happy to hear about it. 

It’s strange. Kei is normally very tied to his routine. It keeps him sane, helps him to organize his thoughts and feelings into neat compartments. For Kei, an orderly life is an orderly mind. Somehow though, you ask him to deviate from that and he’s more than willing, eager even, to oblige you. Better yet, he does it without feeling off-kilter. Well, without feeling as off-kilter about his daily life. When it comes to you, Kei is about as stable as a pogo stick. 

The walk to your professor's office is only a few minutes from his classroom, just a few buildings over, but by the time you both arrive there, Kei’s palms are sweating. He resorts to shoving them in his pockets and wiping them on the inside of his pants, mortified at the idea of accidentally touching you like this. 

“Hey, about tonight,” you start after dropping the paper off with a quick bow. 

You’re supposed to come over. It’s the first time you and Kei have agreed to hang out at one of your places alone and Kei has been compartmentalizing his nerves so harshly that he’d almost forgotten about it entirely. Maybe that explains his easy-going mood. 

“Yeah?” 

“So, Tadashi may have mentioned it in front of the others,” you give him a sheepish grin, “and they may have asked to come and I definitely told them ‘the more the merrier’.” 

“Oh, yeah?” Kei’s a little disappointed. “So they’re coming too?” 

“Yeah, is that okay?” You furrow your eyebrows. 

Kei can’t very well come out and say that it isn’t, because his reason for thinking that is entirely about monopolizing your time. Kei says he doesn’t want to do anything about these feelings, but that doesn’t mean that he can’t indulge just a little into the foreign feeling of accepting that he’s ‘in like’. 

“Yeah sure, why wouldn’t it be?” 

You raise an eyebrow at him and Kei misses the message entirely. 

“I dunno, you’re not really a fan of bigger groups right?” 

“Not really,” Kei shrugs, “but I’ve known them for a while so it doesn’t count.” 

You nod your head and then smile. “Great! Now, where is your class?” 

“Social Sciences,” Kei glances down at the brown watch on his wrist. “In about… four minutes.” 

“Wanna run? Can’t be late, can you?” 

Kei does not want to run. He runs anyway. You’re faster than he is and your step is louder. The soles of your shoes thump on the floor with every step you take and your whole body lurches forward with each bound. When you reach the end of the hallway his class is in, Kei is completely winded. Considering that he plays volleyball as a hobby, he should really be in better shape. He attributes his lack of breath to your presence. Maybe he’d been holding it while watching you run. 

You glance into his full classroom, giving him a relieved look upon seeing that the professor has not begun her lecture yet. Then, you bounce twice on the tips of your toes and start jogging in the other direction. 

“Have a good class!” You call. 

“What’s the rush?” he questions. 

“I’ve got class now too, dummy. Just wanted to hang out with you for a few more minutes.” Then, you turn and run off, your bag bouncing against the side of your leg as you round a corner and fly down a set of stairs. 

That’s the thing about you that Kei can’t get enough of. When Kei takes a step back, when he resigns himself to being okay with just a chance meeting and a brief hello, you take a step forward. Whatever Kei lacks, you make up for tenfold. Your outstretched hand makes him greedier. It makes Kei want more than he’s ever wanted before. He goes to class starved for something that isn’t food, a feeling Kei hasn’t experienced often, let alone leaned into. He lets himself feel the hunger. 

—

Day melts away to a cool evening, still slightly wet, but like the dampness before rain. The air loses its warm touch, creeping into something chillier. Kei opens his bedroom window to let the air in. He likes the smell of cool nights. He wants his room to smell like it when he sleeps tonight. 

“Sorry that I spilled the beans about tonight,” Tadashi leans in the doorway of his room. 

“It’s not like that,” Kei rolls his eyes, already irritated with the implication that whatever you and Kei had organized was anything more than two friends hanging out. 

“Sure it isn’t,” he laughs. 

“I’m serious dude,” Kei fights the urge to throw something soft at him. 

“You wanted to hang out with them alone, right?” Tadashi tilts his head. His dark hair falls to the side and around his neck. 

“I just said it wasn’t like that!” 

Tadashi gives an even laugh. “You’re the one making it dirty, Tsukki, not me.” 

Heat floods Kei’s face, painting it red. 

“Caught ya,” Tadashi smiles. 

“When the hell are you moving out?” Kei grumbles and Tadashi gives another good natured laugh. 

“Not until you do. You’re stuck with me.” 

“Not if I kill you,” Kei doesn’t smile when he says this. 

Tadashi barks a laugh. “So what changed?” 

“What do you mean?” 

“I mean with you. You seem a little more upbeat lately,” Tadashi says. “Nothing like the sad sack from a few months ago.” 

“I was kidding before but now I’m serious. I really will kill you.” 

Tadashi shakes his head a little but doesn’t say anything, intruding on Kei’s space until he gives an answer. 

“I just got tired of it, that’s all,” Kei says evenly, though it’s a little hard to admit. 

“Tired of what?” 

“Pretending,” he says plainly, glancing up at Tadashi in the doorway. 

“Because of them?” 

“No,” he starts. “Maybe. I don’t know. Can you leave now?” 

Tadashi shakes his head. “Too curious to leave.” 

“I don’t have an answer for you,” Kei grumbles. “I got tired of pretending I didn’t want them.” 

“Not like you were very good at pretending,” Tadashi laughs and Kei tosses him a sharp look. 

He raises his hands defensively, tucking his chin downwards and laughing lightly. “Okay, fine. I’m gone now.” 

“They’ll be here in an hour or so, by the way,” Kei adds and Tadashi gives a little hum to confirm that he’s heard him as he leaves the room. 

Kei glances around his room. The floor is bare, save for a small mat by the side of his bed to keep the shock of warm feet on a cold floor in the morning away. That notebook, dear to him as it is, still sits on the desk. It’s empty, but Kei likes the look of it. 

The hour before you and his friends are meant to arrive goes by so slowly that Kei worries that he’s gotten the day wrong. He incessantly checks his watch. It’s a brown leather watch with a square face. Thin and somewhat old fashioned, Kei prefers it to pulling his phone out to check the time. His Dad has one like it, almost matching. It had been given to him as a gift at his high school graduation and Kei had accepted it begrudgingly. He’d not been on good terms with his parents then and having them both in the same space for his graduation day was more trouble than it was worth. Still, he wears the watch almost daily. Despite having the impression that his parents never really cared about him, it was a fine gift for him and the brown strap suits his light skin tone in the same way it suits his father’s. 

He walks to the mirror in his room, hanging on the wall beside his nightstand, and peers into it. Kei’s curly hair is somewhat unruly. It’s hard to manage, especially in the warmer months when his waves turn into frizzy curls that he can’t seem to keep down. It’s gotten longer, coming down to just above the bottom of his ears at the back and curls upwards in licks of thick blond. 

Kei fiddles with it for a moment, tucking it behind his ears and then deciding to pull it forward. He could put gel in it to help calm it down, but he hates the greasy look of it and he’s never been one to primp and preen. He adjusts his glasses on his nose, square frames in a tortoiseshell pattern. They look expensive, though they’re only a cheap pair that he’d found at the drug store and had the lenses replaced. 

He looks normal. Kei looks like himself, if not a bit flushed in the face from his nerves. His reflection is one he is oddly unfamiliar with, despite it being his throughout his entire life. At some point during high school, he’d stopped recognizing the man in the mirror as Kei and started viewing him as a separate entity. Kei Two, a version of him that can make a home out of a space and find things to write in his notebook. Kei Two’s family is still whole and unbroken, and he likes to imagine that he’s a little more friendly than the real-world version. He looks away from the mirror, content today with being the original. 

Kei is in the living room and around the corner when the front door latch clicks open and is followed by a symphony of raucous voices. He takes a sharp inhale, unsure of why this feels so different from the hundreds of other times you’ve all piled into his living room. 

“Where’s Kei?” He hears you call, dragging out the syllable of his name in a soft hum. 

That’s why. It’s because this time, you’ve come here to see him specifically. You’re not here to see Tadashi or by chance, you’re here because you’d made plans to see Kei. That’s what makes it different. 

You round the corner and Kei is hit full force in the chest with his emotions and his nerves. It happens all at once, keeping the air from his lungs. You’re smiling, beaming even, and Kei thinks that maybe it’s because you can hear the hammer of his heart against his chest. 

“Hi,” you breathe, plopping down next to him on the couch. 

“Hey,” he chokes out. 

Kei chides himself for his nerves. He’d been doing better about getting weird around you, but today he feels closer to blowing up than he ever has. 

Hinata, Kageyama, Yachi, and Noya make their way into the kitchen, each one clapping Tadashi on the back as they do. They beeline for their fridge, opening the door and flooding the floor with artificial white light as they pull out enough beers and sodas to supply a small army. Kei wonders why he and Tadashi ever bought so many of them. Kei hardly drinks, but he supposes that Tadashi just likes to host. 

“Tanaka and Kiyoko?” Tadashi questions as he makes his way into the living room with the group. His beer cracks open with a satisfying pop. 

“Date night,” Noya says, sinking into one of the arm chairs situated around the coffee table. “So annoying.”

He groans about Kiyoko, someone he’s all but worshiped since high school. 

“You’re just mad it isn’t you,” Kageyama quips, giving a somewhat mean grin. 

“Not true,” Noya argues. “I am the happiest person in the world for them! But now they go on dates and I can’t come. It’s like I lost a bro.” 

“You’re so overreacting,” Yachi adds, her lips forming around high pitched syllables. “They’re here most of the time.” 

“Yeah, most but not all,” Noya pouts. 

“Give the same energy to Daichi, Suga, and Asahi next time, kay?” Tadashi laughs. 

Their friend group is a large one, consisting of most (if not all) of their highschool volleyball team. While Hinata, Kageyama, and Yachi are the same age as Kei and Tadashi, Tanaka and Noya are a year older, and Kiyoko is two. Daichi, Asahi, and Suga all went to universities outside of Sendai, meaning they hardly ever see them. All in all, the rest of the group is pretty bummed about it. Kei just finds that he misses having Daichi around to reel everyone in. Now that he’s gone, that job has somehow gone to Tadashi, who is more of an enabler than anything else. 

“They’re different and you know it,” Noya frowns, opening his open beer with a hiss through his teeth. 

You lean to the side, bumping your shoulder against Kei’s. 

“Who’re Daichi, Suga, and Asahi?” You ask softly. 

“You’ve never met?” Kei furrows his eyebrows and you shrug. 

“Maybe, but if I have it was only once or twice.” 

“They’re friends from our volleyball team in highschool, but they’re two years older.” 

“Okay, so one year older than me?” 

Kei blinks a few times. “You’re a year older than me?” 

“Yeah?” You laugh a little like it’s obvious. 

“But aren’t you a fourth year?” He furrows his eyebrows. 

“I took a year off before starting college,” you shrug your shoulders. “Thought that I had to get my sillies out.” 

“Your sillies?” Kei laughs a little. 

“Yeah,” you smile, “and I had to save up some money. It makes the world go ‘round, you know?” 

“What are you guys whispering about?” Tadashi gives Kei a wry grin over the top of his beer can. 

It’s only then that Kei realizes the way you both are leaning into each other. He’s tilting his head down to hear you better and you’re leaning forward. It gives off the impression of two people conspiring, of closeness that Kei hadn’t even realized had crept up on him. 

“I was asking who Daichi, Suga, and Asahi are,” you shrug off the moment, leaning back in the chair. 

This prompts a chorus of disbelief, everyone jumping in to describe them to you. Kei takes it as a moment to breathe, inhaling and exhaling. He can feel your thigh against his, just barely there and bleeding warmth through the fabric of his jeans. 

They delve into stories about nationals, little details that Kei had forgotten a long time ago. Every now and then, someone will bring up Kei’s more-than-sour personality and he will feel the need to hide the embarrassment on his cheeks. Even though you know about it, it’s still mortifying for Kei to hear. He wants you to see the best in him, but any hopes he had of you forgetting are quickly washed away as someone brings up Kei’s relentless prodding of Kageyama’s easily pushed buttons. 

You laugh along with them like you were there, amused to hear stories about your college friends in their high school years. Kei finds himself thinking that you fit very well into this scene. 

Still though, despite the fun he’s having, Kei’s battery begins to run out quickly and after a long game of cards, he gets up to take a quick break in the kitchen. It’s not that he wants the night to end, but rather that he just needs a minute to himself and uses the idea of more snacks as an excuse for it. 

He reaches into a cabinet, pulling out a half-finished bag of chips and setting them on the counter. They’re clipped with a bright red chip-clip from the grocery store and Kei thinks that because of that, they shouldn’t have gone stale yet. If it were the peak of summer, Kei might think twice, but this time of year, they should be fine.

Then, he bends down to get a large white mixing bowl from a lower cabinet. Their plates and bowls are kept in various different cabinets, though the only reason they stay somewhat organized is because of Kei. 

“Done already?” You lean your hip against the counter. 

“With what?” Kei struggles to keep his eyes from following the line of your body. 

“Hanging out,” you smile lightly. 

“Not really,” he says. “Just needed a minute and decided to get more snacks.” 

“Wanna go sit outside for a bit then?” 

Kei glances into the living room where the group chatters away. He’d hate to be stopped on the way. 

“Relax,” you laugh. “They’re so caught up they won’t even notice that we’re gone.” 

Kei furrows his eyebrows and then shrugs, swallowing his heart down with the spit that has pooled in his mouth. He follows you out of the front door, shutting it with a quiet click and heading down the steps of the complex and to the concrete wall lining the shrubbery outside. It’s the same place you’d come back to talk to him at all those weeks ago, though he is in considerably better spirits than he was then. 

It’s a cool night, the gentle heat of the day completely burned off to make way for a crisp breeze. He inhales, wishing that he had brought a drink to fiddle with and sip on to distract him from his nerves. 

You sit beside him, leaning back on your palms with your legs outstretched in front of you. Your hand is only a few inches from his and Kei sucks in a breath when he accidentally touches it while he gets comfortable. You only offer him a little smile in response. 

“Sorry again about bringing the troops here,” you speak first. 

“That’s really okay,” he says. “Contrary to popular belief, I actually really like them.” 

You snort. “I hope so.” 

Kei inhales louder than he intends to and when you look at him like he’s going to say something, he just holds his breath and shakes his head. The air only leaves him when you finally look away. 

“Kind of a bummer though,” you start, “I was kinda excited about just hanging out with you.” 

Kei’s breath catches in his throat. He swallows to move the metaphorical blockage. 

“We hang out all the time though,” he says like it’s enough. Of course it’s not enough. 

“Guess so,” you smile a little, though Kei can hear the distinct turn of disappointment in your voice. 

“You know,” he starts, already embarrassed at what he’s going to admit. “I wanted to be your friend for a while.” 

“Oh yeah?” you smile, opening up again and turning towards him. “Why?” 

Kei shrugs, resisting the urge to shut down completely. It’s embarrassing admitting to someone that you wanted to know them before you actually knew them. 

“You kind of reminded me of Tadashi,” he says. “And you both got along so well.” 

“Tadashi? I’m nothing like Tadashi,” you laugh, shaking your head. 

“What? No, you two are so similar,” Kei insists, lacing his fingers together. 

“What about us is so similar?” 

“Well, you’re both sociable and warm and…” Kei trails off. He can’t really think of anything else. You look at him with an expectant look in your eyes. 

“See?” 

Kei realizes that the two of you are not similar at all. Your warmth is where the similarity stops. He’d been likening you to Tadashi this entire time, not because the two of you are similar, but because you make him feel similar to the way Tadashi does. Safe and comfortable, though with the added addition of deeply awkward. He realizes that without the safety net of you being like Tadashi, he’s never had any ability to deny his feelings and with that they rage full force around the corner and slam into his chest like a heavy blow. 

“We’re nothing like each other,” you laugh and lean back against your palms. “Though, it would be cool to be like Tadashi.” 

Kei experiences the sudden realization that he doesn’t want you to be like Tadashi. Kei wants you to be like him. He wants you to be greedy and want him the same way he wants you. He wants you to be able to keep up with his turns and his moods, something he didn’t realize he wanted in the first place. If you’re like Kei, then Kei doesn’t have to be afraid of showing you the worst. You’ll have already seen it. If you’re like Kei and he loves you, then what is stopping you from loving him? 

“Even if you’re not like Tadashi, that’s fine.” His cheeks burn. 

“Yeah?” 

“Yeah, I like you all the same,” he admits quietly. 

“The same? As Tadashi?” You purse your lips a little. “I thought I was a little different. Was I wrong?” 

Kei wants to kiss you. Kei wants to kiss you so badly that his mouth has gone dry and his lips feel like they’ve separated from his body. Anything he’d thought about not wanting anything with you flies out of the window with your proximity. You’re so close to him. Close enough that if he leaned a little to the right, his shoulder would be against yours. You’re so close and you’re looking at him like you’re waiting for something, implying that somehow you’re different from Tadashi. Implying that you want him to like you differently than the way he likes his platonic friend. 

“No, you’re different,” he says, taking the bait you’ve laid in front of him. His heart pounds and he can’t look at you. He thinks he’ll kiss you if he does. 

“Am I?” 

Kei can hear the smile in your voice. It makes what you’re saying sound honeyed and curved. 

“Yeah, you are.”

“How so?” 

Kei finally raises his head to look at you. You’re grinning, leaning towards him like you’re watching a show. He feels the way his nerves rise into his throat, pressing against the very back of his tongue. He doesn’t know how to answer or what to say. Well, he does know what to say, he just doesn’t think he can. Kei is good at thinking about emotions, but when it comes time to speak them outloud, it seems that he’s still got a padlock around his throat. So he does what any logical person would do. 

Kei leans forward, pushing against his screaming nerves and trying to ignore the tremble in his hands, and kisses you. It’s awkward and his teeth click against yours before his lips fully settle against your mouth. He feels the breath you draw in, like surprise and relief mixed together, and he finds that he does the same. 

He can see the way your eyes flutter closed through his barely open ones and he realizes that your lips are so warm. He screws his eyes shut when you dip your head forward to move your lips against his. Yours are so warm and soft, like satin. A kiss has never felt like this to Kei before and he finds that he wants to catalog every single one of your reactions. Maybe that’s what he could write in the notebook. Maybe he could write down every single thing that you do that leaves him winded and wanting more. 

Neither of you reach for the other, but he can feel the knuckle of your pinky against his as you slowly kiss each other, tilting your heads side to side. There’s hunger within him, the need to take more than what he’s receiving and a greed he isn’t quite familiar with, but there’s also romance. It’s like a spell that’s yet to be broken, fed by the click of your mouths as they move together. Kei sighs, flooded with the relief of this kind of physical affection, of being honest with himself at how much he likes it. Kei loves the feel of your mouth. He loves the way your lips and tongue feel and he loves that they’re all that he can feel right now. 

The kiss lasts longer than Kei thought it would and by the time he pulls away, you’re both steadily panting and attempting to keep your breathing even. He wants to do it again. He wants it so badly that it makes his chest swell. He wants to do that with you forever, but he swallows down the desire. It’s a temporary fix, but it’s enough for him to choke out what it is he wants to say next. 

“I think I’m in really hot water,” he squeaks. 

“What do you mean?” You breathe out, the playfulness from a few moments earlier long behind you. 

“I think I want you way more than I thought I did,” he admits quietly, the first out loud admittance of his feelings to you. 

You smile a little before speaking. “I think it’s only hot water if the other person doesn’t feel the same way.” 

Your face is still so close to his. “Yeah?” 

It comes out a bit desperate, like he needs reassurance. Kei does. He’s so afraid that he thinks he could die. Afraid of the spell breaking, afraid of losing whatever moment this is and being forced to return to his one-sided pining, afraid that you don’t feel the same way.

Your face moves closer to him, breath trembling lightly. “Yeah.” 

You kiss him again, pressing your lips against his lightly before parting them. He’s so overwhelmed and so immediately lost in it. Kei feels the way your tongue teases the inside of his mouth and it makes him feel like a teenager again, swelling with desires and emotions that he can’t name. You move your hand over his, placing it lightly on top of his, and he reacts by lacing your fingers together and pushing forward more. 

Kei wants to touch you so badly, to reach up and hold your face, to touch your waist and your legs and your chest. He wants to do it all, to feel you right here under the cover of night, but he doesn’t. Instead, he kisses you and stews in the desire, letting it swell in his chest as he listens to the clicking of your mouths. You kiss him so slowly, moving your mouth at a languid pace. It drives him crazy. He doesn’t think he’ll ever get enough of this.

“We should go back inside, I think,” you break away, your bottom lip shiny with a sheen of spit. “The others might think something’s up and Tanaka isn’t exactly good with discretion.”

Kei automatically reaches up to swipe it with his thumb. He doesn’t know where this affection comes from, where the possessive action found its origins, but he finds that he likes the way it feels to be able to do it in the first place. 

“Yeah, you’re probably right,” Kei responds, though he would have been happy to continue sitting out here with you, kissing you silly. 

You stand first, dusting off the back of your legs and waiting for Kei to follow suit. When he does, you reach quickly for his hand, giving it a quick squeeze before walking in front of him. 

Kei is not sure how he should act when he goes inside. He’s tense all over, desperate to pick up where the two of you left off, and unsure if his face betrays that thought. 

“Where’d you guys go?” Tadashi asks as Kei closes the door behind him. 

In the time you’d both been gone, the living room has been transformed into something nearly unrecognizable. Empty beer cans are strewn about the tables and the blankets and pillows from the couches are now haphazardly laying around beside the couch or over people’s bodies. Then again, maybe the room always looked like this and he was just too busy thinking about how close you were to him. 

Kei doesn’t know what to say. Why had they gone outside in the first place? He’s not even sure that he remembers. 

“I wanted a cigarette and I made Kei come with me,” you answer evenly. “Why? You jealous?” 

“Of inhaling second-hand smoke? No, thanks.” Tadashi laughs, but he tosses Kei a sideways glance. Tadashi knows him well enough to know that Kei wouldn’t voluntarily stand outside with a smoker unless he was particularly fond of them. 

“Aw, man, I thought you quit?” Hinata pipes up, tilting his head. 

“I did, hot stuff,” you respond, sitting down on the couch. “Don’t worry. I won’t smoke anymore.” 

Hinata huffs and Kei takes the opportunity to sit down next to you. 

His thigh is pressed against yours, warmth seeping through his pants and into his skin. Kei feels like he could explode. You’re so close to him again, closer than before, and he can’t stop replaying the kiss in his head. He’s desperate for it, fidgety with his desire. He keeps thinking about the hot press of your mouth and the languid motion of your tongue. All he can imagine is the few points of contact between you both, mouth and hands, and how badly he wanted it to be more. He needs it. 

You touch him a few times throughout the night and the tension is so palpable that Kei is convinced he can see it. It’s like there is a rope pulled taut between the two of you. If he doesn’t stick his ground, he’ll go flying towards you, grabbing and touching and taking in the way he’s desperate to now. 

After an hour, his friends begin to grow restless. Their faces are flushed with alcohol and the things they’d been amusing themselves with are no longer enough stimulation. 

“Hey, we’re going out to the bars. Who’s coming?” Hinata speaks up. 

A chorus of agreement rings out, but the last thing Kei wants to do is go out.

“I think I’ll probably stay back and start cleaning,” he says somewhat disdainfully. “It’s a mess in here,” Kei tosses you a small glance. It’s unintentional but he’s glad for it because Kei is hoping that you’ll stay back with him, that you both can pick up where you left off. 

“I’ll stay and help too. I’ve got an early morning tomorrow anyway,” you smile and Hinata pouts. 

“You guys are so boring,” he protests. “Leave the mess for tomorrow and come out with us.” 

“I’ll pass, pipsqueak,” Kei scoffs. 

“Fine, but don’t complain to me when you’re full of regret tomorrow,” he points a finger at Kei and then moves it over to you. “And you’re too nice for your own good.” 

“Do you hear that?” You say, beginning to usher the group to the door. “I think it’s the sound of the bar and all that alcohol calling to you guys.” 

“You guys are so full of shit-” Kageyama starts, speaking up for the first time in a while, but Kei just waves him out. 

“Yeah yeah, let the grown ups clean while you guys have fun. We’ll see you tomorrow.” 

The rope is so taut between you both that it’s unbearable and by the time the door closes, you are spinning around on your heel toward Kei. 

“We’re not cleaning, right?” 

Kei shakes his head and starts towards you. The tension breaks when his hands find your hips and he hungrily leans down to press his mouth against yours. 

This kiss is different from the first, desperate and full of desire. It’s fast and your mouths move together quickly as he starts to walk you back towards his bedroom, his hands eagerly roaming up and down your hips. Vaguely, he acknowledges that his glasses have been moved out of place, but he pays it no mind as you turn the knob to his bedroom door with your back to it. 

There’s an urgency to his movements. Kei feels it in his chest, this desperate desire to be closer, to consume everything that you’ve laid out in the palm of his hand. You stumble backwards into his room and Kei catches your shifted weight with a hand around your waist. His other hand comes up to cup your cheek, feeling the warm skin on your jaw and neck. His fingers tremble where they touch you, half out of desperate need and half out of the nerves that threaten to spill from his mouth. His lips though, are occupied with yours, clicking together, all tongue and teeth. 

Kei kisses sloppily down your jaw, his lips smearing across your cheek and dipping down below your ear. He sucks a trail there, unsure if he’s leaving marks, all the way down to your collarbone. Every part of you tastes better than he’d expected it to and with every push he delivers, you pull. 

You make small sounds, little pants and groans that make Kei’s hair stand on end with wanting. Your voice, so familiar and fond to him, spills out in small, breath-like bursts that make Kei want to coax more out of you. Kei’s never been one to want this way, but right now, it’s all that he feels. So much tension and impulse that he feels like he can hardly control himself. 

You reach blindly behind you for the bed and Kei guides you down, placing his hand on one side of you as you sit. Then, without disconnecting your lips, he guides you up toward the wall. 

He feels the cool tips of your fingers at the hem of his shirt, pulling downward and then upward to get him to take it off. Kei obliges you, leaning back on his knees and pulling it off over the top of his head. You eye him for a moment, the two of you slowing down enough as the urgency settles into something heavy and lingering. 

Kei leans forward again, one of his hands reaching for your hip. He slips his fingers underneath the hem of your shirt, sliding his long fingers up your stomach as he kisses you again. You’re so soft and he can feel the way your chest heaves against his palm. His touch is feather light and he slides it up evenly until it reaches just below your breast. When you nod, Kei moves it up over your bra and he feels you shudder. Kei does the same, overwhelmed by your pliability. 

He can feel the goosebumps that have raised on your skin, little pinpricks of skin that indicate that some part of you feels good. When Kei squeezes your breast, you gasp into his moan and he groans his response, letting you bite at his bottom lip. 

He feels you suck at his lips and swipe your tongue along the ridge of his mouth. When he opens it to let you in, he’s overtaken by the warmth of the soft muscle. He groans, tilting his head down to kiss you deeper, letting the taste of you spread over his mouth. It’s hot and your breath fans across his face. 

Kei hands drift from your breasts along the sides of your body. He feels the heave of your breath there against your warm skin, his palms resting on your waist. You raise your knees, the sides of them pressing against Kei’s hips. He shifts downwards slowly, dragging his mouth along your skin, past the cloth of your shirt. 

His hands make their way from your waist to your hips as he dips lower. Kei takes off his glasses, already fogged up and in the way. When he meets your eyes, you nod your permission and Kei slips between your legs, his flat palms moving to spread your thighs. 

You’re so warm and soft, so pliable in a way that Kei can’t articulate. It makes his mouth water with his desperation and he’s grown hard against the bedspread beneath him. 

“Touch me,” you breathe out. 

Kei nods into your stomach, looping his fingers around our waistband, and pulls down your pants. Your panties come with it and it’s with a slight wave of regret that he realizes he won’t get to see the way you stick to them. 

When he sees you, his heart leaps into his throat. His eagerness and his nerves catch up to him and he lets out a breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding. You shudder when the air hits your exposed cunt, an unintentional side effect of Kei’s nerves that has him grinding down against the bedspread. 

He slides his palm to rest over your center. It’s warm and sticky, wet beyond what Kei had imagined and he gingerly presses a finger between your folds. You gasp, mouth falling open above him. Then, he slides his finger into you to the first knuckle, curling up. Kei goes deeper on the second pump, curling his whole finger inside of you and feeling the way you tighten around him. 

You arch your back up off the bed and Kei groans and rolls his eyes, resting his head on the inside of your exposed thigh. He curls his fingers in you, watching the way they coat with your pleasure. His eyebrows are knit together, like he’s asking whether you like how he touches you or not, and you seem to pick up on his insecurity, nodding your head before letting it tip back against Kei’s pillows. 

Kei thinks your expression is incredible. Your eyebrows pull up in the center, pretty face twisted and mouth slightly open in an expression of undeniable pleasure. Kei’s stomach winds at the look of it and he ruts his hips against the mattress to quell the growing ache of need. His fingers, which curl at a slow and even pace inside of you, are warm with your enjoyment. It leaks between his knuckles, sliding down the back of his hand like a slow moving syrup. He wonders whether you have more to give and how you taste, his gaze slinking from your face to the place just above where his fingers disappear. 

He lowers his mouth to you without thinking, curious and needing the taste of it. Sure enough, you have more to give. Your voice comes quickly, a small gasp that is stifled by the back of your hand when he sucks sharply on your clit. Your hips push forward against his hands and then you arch up off the mattress with a small cry. Kei wonders if you’ve cum. He wonders if he’s sent you over the edge, but if he has, you’re taking all of it so well that he doesn’t dare stop. 

The taste of you spreads on his tongue, tangy and warm. You invade his senses violently, like you are gripping his throat. Kei holds his mouth to you, pressing the length of his cock into the mattress and moving his hips like he plans to fuck it. 

He moves his free hand down your thigh and onto the inside of your leg. Your skin is so soft. It’s so vulnerable, something easily pierced and bled. Kei’s pointer finger rubs gentle circles there, feeling the slight pull of the soft skin with his fingers, so thin that it almost feels like tissue paper. He’s sure that with a little pressure, you would bruise. 

The thought surprises him. He works his tongue across your clit and his fingers against that gummy spot inside of you, but his mind drifts to the softness of your inner thigh, the way it would be so easy to leave a spot that might hurt later when you press on it, remind you of exactly where he was. Then, Kei pinches you on the inside of your thigh and when you cry out, tightening around his fingers with a tapered moan, he pinches you again, harder this time. 

You whimper slightly, like you like it. No, you sound like you love it and Kei finds himself holding back a choked moan as he tries not to cum prematurely. He pinches along the inside of your legs and around the back. Not too much. Only when he feels like it. Only when he wants to hear what kind of sounds you’ll make. 

“K-Kei wait, wait,” you pant, grabbing him by his tufts of blonde hair. It hurts. He doesn’t think you mean to hurt him, but it doesn’t matter. He likes it and he twitches in his pants. 

“Huh?” He hums, detaching from your clit and slowing the movement of his fingers to a halt. Your legs shake around his handiwork. “You okay?” 

“I’ll cum if you keep going like that,” you breathe, screwing your eyes shut like you’re still on the edge. “Drag it out for me, yeah?” 

Kei furrows his eyebrows and sucks in a sharp breath.

“Cum if you want to.” He tilts his head down to reattach his lips. 

“Not yet,” you tug at his hair. “I like chasing it.” 

Kei stares at you, unblinking and awestruck. Your chest heaves and despite the pleasure on your face, you look uncomfortable as your orgasm slips away from you. Kei likes that look on your face and he finds himself growing greedy. 

“Come here,” you coax him onto the mattress. 

Kei watches as you slip your hands into the waistband of his jeans and pull them down, leaving him on his back with his tented boxers exposed. You crawl down his body and settle between his legs with your arms between his thighs. He shudders when you run your hands up them and he briefly sees his boxers jump. 

You smile, pressing your mouth to him through his boxers. Kei can’t stifle the groan that escapes him and heat floods his face when you raise your eyebrows in response. 

“You don’t have to,” he says through gritted teeth as you slip the waistband of his boxers down. 

“But I want to,” you mumble, taking him in your hand and placing a kiss on the side of his dick. 

Kei’s head falls back against the pillow and he swears under his breath when he feels the warmth of your mouth close around the tip of him. He jerks his head up to see, awestruck by the way your lips look around the head of his cock. 

For some reason, Kei is already so sensitive. He feels everything, and when you swipe the tip of your tongue along his slit as you bob your head, he makes a noise he didn’t think he could make. His fingers knot themselves in the bed sheets, white knuckled and trembling while you bob your head over him. 

Your mouth is so warm and wet. It’s a little messy, dripping down the length of him and onto his balls. Kei feels the warmth, the heat of you. He can still taste you on his tongue. Kei can still feel the stickiness left behind from your arousal on his mouth. The combination of you between his legs and the taste of you on his tongue is overwhelming. 

Kei can feel his orgasm growing in his lower stomach, turning over until he’s bringing his long fingers to your head in an effort to steady himself. There’s nothing he can do but give in, watching you through damp eyes as you watch his expression. 

It’s embarrassing how quickly he cums. It doesn’t take long and he teeters on the edge for a few moments before fully cresting over. Kei can’t help the way he lifts his hips from the mattress, his voice caught in his throat as it hooks on a high pitched groan. His voice cracks and he feels the way his cum collects on your tongue and across the tip of his dick in your mouth. 

“Fuck,” he mutters, red faced and panting, “I didn’t mean to- I didn’t mean to finish so quickly, you’re just-” 

“It’s fine,” you come up, your eyes glassed over and lust-filled. “I like making you feel good.” 

“Yeah but-” 

“No buts,” you crawl over him and straddle his waist. Kei winces when your weight briefly nudges his cock. “There’s still fun to be had. Can I kiss you?” 

He nods and you lean down to do as you’d asked. Your tongue moves slowly against his, less desperate this time, like you’re trying to work him down and back up again. You place your hands on his chest, settling your weight down so that your bare cunt is pressed against his sensitive cock. Kei thinks he might die. 

He brings his hands to your waist, the fatigue creeping from his bones as he digs the pads of his fingers into your fleshy sides. You draw in a breath when he does and it makes Kein feel like he’s tipping sideways with arousal. Everything that you do, right down to the involuntary twitch of your hips or eyebrows, is sexy. 

Kei turns you over, growing hard between your legs again, and gently pins you to the mattress. He kisses you for a moment longer, his lips working clumsily across yours before he pulls away to catch his breath and find his bearings. 

You chase him with your mouth, tilting your head up to kiss him. Kei feels his chest swell with arousal and his cock strains almost painfully against his pants as he peers at you. You’re so pretty. Everything about you is so pretty. On his chest, he can feel your fingers, splayed over his pecks, across his collarbone, and grazing the side of his neck. He leans closer, loving the pressure of your body and the desperation that pours from your skin. 

Kei kisses you again. He kisses you the way he wanted to outside, dipping his tongue into your mouth with a desperation that he can taste. You take control back, reaching between the two of you, and Kei shifts himself upward instinctually to give you access to him. He feels your fingers fumble for him and there’s a pause in which Kei doesn’t know what to do. He wonders if this might be the part of him that you like. The awkward part, the one that doesn’t know what to do. Kei’s thoughts are interrupted by the feeling of your hand wrapping around him and tugging upward. 

His head drops and a low groan escapes his lips before he can even think to stop it. Kei’d almost forgotten his sensitivity, how desperately he wants to be touched, how overwhelming it feels. He shivers, looking down at where your hand wraps around him and pumps. When he looks back up, he finds that you’re looking at his face, your eyes glassed over and observant as you commit all of his expressions to memory. 

“What?” he says, letting out a shuddering breath and the slight overstimulation. 

“Your face is red,” you reach up with your free hand to run your thumb along his cheek. 

Kei huffs, dropping his head and you fiddle with something between the two of you.

“No,” you pick his chin up. “I like it. It’s cute.” 

You tighten your grip around him and Kei feels his expression twist, a new rush of heat and desire flooding his belly as he realizes you’re sliding a condom onto him. Then, you guide the tip of him between your legs and he feels the wet press of your entrance against him. 

“Christ,” he groans. 

You smile slightly, shifting your hips a little and then placing your hands on his shoulders. Kei pushes forward slowly, his thighs twitching. It takes everything he has to keep from cumming again and every muscle in his body screams with a desire to let go. 

Kei is so overwhelmed, partially because you feel so good, but also because there is some part of him that knows this feels different. Kei feels different about you, about being intimate with you, than he has with anyone else. There’s something alive in him, something with its own mind. Something greedy and vulnerable that stirs when your face is this close to him, when he’s buried all the way in you to the base of his cock. Emotional and sensitive, Kei feels it kick. 

His first instinct is to run. Agreeing to let himself like you, to let himself do something about it, was not agreeing to letting something live inside of him. Kei’s first thought when he registers the difference is to cut it off and suffocate it so that it stops thumping against his chest. He’d grown so used to the hollow feeling that the feeling of living emotion makes him nervous, it puts him on edge. But when he pulls out a few inches and fucks back into you, the anxiety dispels into insurmountable pleasure. A pleasure Kei can’t describe, something fulfilling and whole. 

He picks up his pace, letting himself do what he wants while you grip his shoulders with blunted nails. He likes the expression you wear. Truthfully, he likes all of your expressions, but this one is new. Pressure and pleasure, a newness to the feel of him inside of you that you can’t quite keep from your eyes or lips. He kisses you as if he could taste it, slipping his tongue between your lips. 

“I really like you,” you mumble against his mouth, breath hot as it fans across his cheeks. 

Kei’s heart hammers and his hips stutter a little. 

“Me too,” he chokes, trying to think about volleyball to stave off a second orgasm. All that comes to mind though, is you. 

“Are you close again?” you breathe, voice laden with pleasure. 

“I have been since we started,” Kei admits. 

“Cum then,” you say softly, reaching behind his head to pull his mouth back to yours. Kei likes the control you exhibit. He groans his approval.

“You first,” he mutters.

There’s this possessive part of Kei that wants to watch you fall apart on him. He wants to see it, to watch you feel good too and commit it to memory so that he can always keep it. He thinks it’s a pride thing, something attached to his desire to succeed, to his reliability. Maybe though, it’s just because he thinks it’ll look hot. 

He reaches down and lifts one of your legs up by the back of your knee, pressing it down to give himself better access. You whine and Kei feels the way you clench down around him, your fingers knitting into the hair at the back of his neck. It hurts in a good way. 

Kei slips his hand between you, rubbing circles on your clit to get you there faster. Frankly, he doesn’t know how much longer he can last like this, staring down at your face while it twists with pleasure. You’re so attractive to him. Everything about you is sexy. It makes Kei a little crazy. 

He listens as your breathing quickens, as your voice wavers further. He feels the way your cunt begins to flutter faster, pulsing around him until you attempt to cry out and warn him. Then, you clamp down around him, arching your hips up off the mattress and pulling at his hair. Kei moves his head with you, relishing in the way you tug and scratch. 

He builds up to his orgasm so fast that it hurts. There’s pressure and then the mounting feeling of nearing the top, and then the peak and crash. He cums so hard that it hurts, pushing his cock as far as it will go into you and feeling the warm spill of his cum in the condom. He moans a long, drawn out sound that you mimic, his fingers knitting into the pillow behind you and his head dropping so that his lips sit near your neck.

He lets out a shaky breath, letting himself sit inside of you for a moment. You turn his head towards yours and kiss him. It’s gentle. A smooth and languid kiss that neither of you moves to deepen. Your lips move against each other and Kei closes his eyes to savor the taste. 

You tap his shoulder and Kei rolls over onto the bed beside you, snapping the condom off with a small wince and tying it up in a quick motion. He places it in the trash bin beside the bed. When he turns over, you’re already moving to slip under his arm, resting your head on his chest. 

There’s a passing moment of silence, not unlike the ones you both have fallen into before and you sigh lightly against his exposed chest. Kei follows suit, watching the way you move with his breath. 

His skin is sticky against yours and Kei can vaguely register the smell of sweat in the room. He doesn’t know how long it’s been since everyone left, nor does he know when they’ll be back, but he estimates that it won’t be more than an hour. Kei briefly wishes that he could pause time so that he can stay here with you, just like this. 

“I’m not good at this kind of stuff,” Kei admits quietly. 

“What stuff?” You ask, tracing your finger along the ridges of his lean abdomen. 

“Liking people,” he says. “Dating.” 

You give a small laugh. “No offense, Kei, but I could tell that from the moment I met you.” 

“Shit, seriously?” 

“Duh,” you breathe out. “It’s a little charming to me, though. I like that part of you.” 

So it’s true. You like the parts of Kei that he’s always worried were the worst of him. 

“Huh,” he says. “Could you tell?” 

“That you like me?” You ask, shifting your head to look at him. “Yeah, it was obvious after we established that you didn’t hate me. I always noticed you staring in the library.” 

“Really? I thought I was being a little slick with that,” Kei feels heat and color flood his face. 

You let out a good-natured laugh. “People can always tell when someone’s staring, Kei. It’s like a sixth sense.” 

“Good to know. Hindsight is 20/20 and all.” 

Another bout of silence follows. 

“You can keep staring though,” you say, “if you want to. And calling.”

“Okay,” Kei responds, “I didn’t really plan on stopping.” 

“Ha, freaky,” you laugh a little and Kei reaches up to flick the side of your head. “Wanna start going out?” 

Kei thinks about this for a moment. He thinks about being able to hold your hand, brush hair out of your face, watch movies on the couch and fix your breakfast the next morning. Then he thinks about not being able to do those things. 

“I think I’d be a little upset if we didn’t,” he admits. 

“Good,” you say. “Me too.” 

He’s fighting off sleep. His eyelids are heavy and he tries to blink away the shroud of rest that’s falling over him. Kei knows you’re fighting it too. Your breathing goes in and out of that familiar breathing that comes with sleep. Kei likes the way it sounds coming from you, restful and quiet. 

“We should… really get up to clean just a little,” he mumbles. 

“Five more minutes,” you say softly, your voice heavy and laden with drowsiness. 

“Okay,” he says. 

It’s just five more minutes. Kei fights sleep to hear you breathe like this a little longer. 

—

There’s a period after which Kei doesn’t know what to do with himself. Like the awkward start to a new hobby or passion, Kei finds himself enthralled with his budding relationship while simultaneously stumbling continuously along the way. You’re gracious with him though, letting him make mistakes and fumble until he finds his footing. 

It’s all very awkward for him, very new. He finds that it’s easier to just do the nice things he wants to do for you than to agonize over it and slowly, he begins to grow comfortable in the relationship that took you both so long to begin. 

At first, only Tadashi knew about you both. Kei thought that there was no point in hiding it from him, since you were over at the apartment all the time. Of course, Tadashi somehow already knew. That’s how it usually goes anyway, and Kei is relieved to find that his internal change did not trigger some global shift that would turn his life upside down. Everything is normal, save for the fact that Kei now tries to love without hindrance. 

Kei discovers that he’s possessive. That’s a new trait of his that he didn’t know belonged to him. Before you, before Kei had found something he so desperately wanted to keep, he’d been rather detached. Possessiveness was rare because Kei hardly ever got attached enough to want. Now though, he wants so badly that it hurts. You lean into it. Kei suspects that you like it when he wards off people who hit on you, when he pouts a little because he wants to be close to you, when he gets a little jealous. Kei doesn’t really mind it either. After all, despite his possessiveness, he never feels insecure. The both of you make sure of that. 

This sunny period with you, the one Kei worried would only last a week, drifts easily from one month into two and before he knows it, it’s been five. Kei had worried about that fundamental change. The one imperceivable to the human eye. He’d worried that slowly, it would begin to spoil what is so good between the two of you. 

“Kei,” you snap him out of it, placing a hand on his shoulder, “you okay?” 

He sets down his cup of tea, barely touched. “Yeah, why wouldn’t I be?” 

“Don’t tell me you’re getting cold feet?” You give him a wry smile. “This was your idea, after all.” 

“Yeah, well it was a pretty shit idea actually,” he breathes, “My parents aren’t exactly easy.” 

“You want to cancel?” You ask, your eyebrows pulling up in a clumsy attempt to hide your disappointment. Kei can see right through it.

“No,” he shakes his head. “I want you to meet them. I just don’t want you to meet them.” 

The truth of it is that Kei would like to cancel. In an ideal world, one where the sun rises on the opposite side of his bedroom window, he’d forget the whole thing and take you out to get dinner and see a movie. Things would be simpler that way, less uncomfortable for the both of you. But as uncomfortable as it is, Kei wants you to be a part of their lives too. You’re too important to not introduce to his parents and Kei can’t see it any other way, though he’d like to. 

You snort. “What does that even mean?” 

Kei gives you a pointed and somewhat irritated look. 

“Okay, sorry,” you raise your hands defensively and walk over to place them on his shoulders. “I know you’re worried, but I think it’s going to be okay. I’m excited.” 

Kei huffs out a laugh, unable to vocalize his nerves in their totality. “Excited to meet my dysfunctional, divorced parents that kind of hate each other?” 

“Yup. I’m excited to meet the people who raised you.” 

Kei smiles a little. “You should meet Akiteru, then,” It’s an exaggeration, but for some reason the prospect of seeing both of his parents together has him feeling a little more bitter than usual, even if it was his idea. 

You give him a little grin through narrowed eyes. There’s an understanding that passes from you to him, like you’re acknowledging that you haven’t forgotten what he’d told you nearly six months ago. Kei feels the tension in his shoulders relax a little. 

His parents are already at the restaurant when he arrives. It’s a swanky Italian place. The kind you go to on birthdays or for anniversaries, where the pasta dishes are things like lobster mushroom ravioli or truffle oil fettucini in tiny portions. Kei made sure to book somewhere that his parents would have trouble making a scene in, not that they ever had much of a mind for decorum when they were married. He’s surprised to find them chatting cordially when you both arrive. 

“Kei,” his mother stands from the table and crosses to give him a hug. He pats her back gently.

“Hi Mom,” Kei responds and she gives him a small smile. 

Kei’s dad adjusts the lapel of his suit, the same one he’s had for years, and reaches to give him a hug around one shoulder. 

“Guys,” he inhales, “This is my partner, _____.” 

You grin at Kei and then introduce yourself formally to his parents. Kei watches in awe as you blend right in, like you’ve known them for many years. He sits down while trying to keep the nerves from his face. 

“We’re so happy to meet you,” his mother starts, “Kei’s never introduced us to any of his partners before.” 

“I’m the first?” You smile a little, raising an eyebrow at Kei as if to tease him. 

“There really haven’t been that many to begin with,” Kei grumbles as if that somehow makes it better. 

You laugh again and the ball of conversation begins rolling. His mother tells you how pretty you are and his father nods a quieter approval. They talk about his university’s graduation ceremony, which they attended separately, as if they were together the entire time and then ask about your major, if you graduated with him, where you plan on going. You tell them what you want to do and that you want to go wherever Kei goes. He marvels at how smoothly the evening moves onward.

There are moments where the tension in his family becomes obvious. Little swells or comments that bring up a sour or shameful memory that cannot be ignored. Moments when the air thickens and it feels like the hammer is about to come down. It never does though. The tension, rather than snapping, simply fades away. 

He’d expected everything to blow up for some reason. Kei had expected that, like his childhood, the restaurant dishes would end up smashed on the floor. The glassware always ended up broken in the house, why shouldn’t they be broken here to shatter the illusion of things being good? He braces himself for a ball that never drops.

It takes him until the ride home, after a successful dinner, to realize that the dishes haven’t been smashed in years. Not since he was fourteen and his parents fought for custody. Not since his mother got remarried to her now husband almost 6 years ago and his father met his new wife. Kei wonders why he still feels like he lives in that house. The one his parents were at their worst in. Why can’t he feel like he lives in the apartment he rents with Tadashi? 

“I think that went well,” you say softly on the drive back. 

Kei nods his agreement. “I think so too.” 

You don’t bring up the fact that they didn’t fight, or that they spoke about their new kids with each other as if they were old friends. You don’t accuse Kei of being wrong, of being paranoid even though he most definitely was. 

“I’m glad that I got to meet them,” you say. “You look so much like your mom.” 

“Really?” Kei asks. 

“Yeah, you’ve got her eyes and her nose,” you smile a little. “It makes you two look similar.” 

“Huh,” he says. “I never really gave that much thought.” 

Kei turns the idea that he has his mother’s face over in his head. He’d spent so much time dreading that he was like them on the inside, that he never paused to consider the outside. So much of his life has been spent worrying that he’s just like them. That he breaks the plates and lashes out and acts cruelly even when he’s trying to love. But he has his mother’s eyes and for some reason that unsettles him. It’s like evidence. 

“You don’t really act like them though,” you say as if on cue. “You’re a little gentler.” 

“Me? Gentle?” Kei scoffs. 

“Yeah!” you say. “I mean, sure you’re prickly, but there’s a goodness to you that’s really obvious if you look.” 

Goodness. What a strange word to use to describe someone. Kei thinks that if there’s any goodness in him, if there’s anything that hasn’t been tainted by his parents’ sour personalities, it’s from Akiteru. Kei likes to believe that whatever good he got was from him. No matter how strained his relationship with him might be now, Kei is certain of that. 

“That’s a relief,” he admits in a flat tone. 

After a long pause, he speaks again. “Thanks.” 

“For what?” You laugh. 

“Bearing with me… and with them,” he says. “Couldn’t have been easy.” 

“It was easy,” you say. “Because I wanted to meet them. And I care about you.” 

Kei feels color rise to his cheeks. He turns to look in the sideview mirrors as he pulls the car into a parking spot in his apartment complex’s garage. 

“You say that stuff so easily,” he huffs. 

“What? That I care about you?” 

“Yeah.” 

“Well, I do,” you laugh a little.

Kei’s face grows hotter and he distracts himself by putting the car into park and taking the key out of the ignition. 

“Me too,” he says quietly, waiting for you to catch up so that he can take your hand in his. “Sorry that I don’t say it a lot.” 

“Not to be rude,” you say, “but even if you never said it at all, it would be obvious. You’re kind of a sucker.” 

Kei supposes that that’s true and he gives a small laugh before nudging your shoulder with his. The parking garage is humid and stuffy, but he holds your hand in it anyway. 

—

You’re half asleep in bed beside him and your breathing comes in even sweeps the way it does just before you fall asleep. Kei listens to it for a moment, admiring the sound of it and the way your chest feels expanding against his. 

He thinks about dinner, about how good it feels to have introduced you. How real it makes this relationship feel despite the uneasiness surrounding his familial situation. Kei thinks about his parents. He thinks about their inability to be good for each other. He thinks about the worst of them, something he’s familiar with, before thinking about the best of them. Kei imagines the way their faces looked at dinner, talking about the children they’re raising properly. They’re good people, they just made each other bad. Molecular shifts that changed them for the worst. The notebook theory in its most frightening form. But they were good too. 

Kei thinks about loving you. His reluctance to do so originally isn’t quite beyond him yet. He’s unsure, in fact, if he’ll ever really get past the fear of the fall, the fear of becoming what his parents made each other. But he also thinks about his promise to love you for real. Love is not something that Kei does. He knows now that it's something that happens to him, like it happened to his parents. They loved each other once, even if it made them so blind that they couldn’t see just how bad it made them. 

Kei still resents the fact that he was born to fix a marriage that never would have worked in the first place. He resents being a fix rather than a gift, but at the very least, his existence is proof that his parents cared enough about their family to try. Even if it was misguided, at least they tried even a little. 

In the quiet after of an emotionally charged evening, loving you seems like an easier task for him now. It’s not hard to love you. What’s hard, Kei thinks, is not hurting you. He carries a lot of baggage that, for a long while, felt like too much. Kei thinks he can manage if it’s for you. He’ll bear the brunt of it. He’ll put in the work. 

Yes, Kei is his parents’ son, but he’s also Tadashi’s friend, Akiteru’s brother, the person who loves you. He doesn’t live in the house with a bin full of shards and no glassware anymore. 

“Are you awake?” He whispers across the pillow. 

“Mhm,” you hum, pushing your cheek into his arm.

“Let’s move in together,” he says. 

You tense against him and slowly attempt to blink away sleep. “Are you sure?” 

“Yeah, I’m sure,” he responds. “I want to live with you.” 

“Okay then,” you smile a little. “Let’s do it.” 

—

In the fall, when his lease with Tadashi ends and his friend gives him a tearful, yet somewhat silly goodbye, Kei moves into your new shared apartment. Two small rooms in a modest part of town, a shared kitchen and living room, one bathroom, a mismatch of furniture from both of your old places, and an empty fridge. The first night is spent eating take out on the floor with you in front of a TV with no proper stand. Kei has never been happier. 

And in the morning, when the sun comes through the slats of his window, broken up into gentle dots by the orange-leaved trees outside, Kei rises slowly. He rises gently. Kei doesn’t want to wake you, not before he’s made breakfast. He pads out to the kitchen, where boxes are strewn about, half unpacked, and grabs the little brown notebook from the box it’s been temporarily living in. In it, he writes a grocery list full of the things you like. It’s a good enough reason, a good enough change. 

The notebook theory. 

[izvmimi]

cw: self-indulgent. smut, minors dni. oral (fem!receiving). multiple orgasm mention.

it's once you tip over for the third time that night that the small, still semi-coherent part of you realizes you made a grave mistake.

you miscalculated - give your husband an inch, and he'll take a whole fucking mile (or whatever the equivalent is in orgasms).

a somewhat strangled cry leaves your throat, not unlike a cat yowling, one that cannot possibly be sexy, and you, from somewhere deep inside, find the wherewithal to swat izuku's face and hands away from you, losing strength as laps up the nectar that seeps from between your legs for the umpteenth time, the grip of his hands strong and steady around the fat of your thighs.

"s-stop!" you're nearly crying now, overstimulated, and heart racing in your chest, every part of you buzzing with electricity. you can feel him everywhere, even if the last point of contact is focused - a long, protracted swipe of his tongue from your taint to your clit. you gasp, and your hips buck again in his face, heels digging into the mattress as you try to keep yourself together. cumming again at this point might as well be embarrassing.

he pecks you right on the clit before pulling back and peering at you over your belly. izuku is kneeling now at the edge of the bed, grinning, the shine of his lips, sloppy with spit and other fluid, and you watch him warily as you try to catch your breath, wondering if he's some sort of demon.

"are you sure?" he asks. "you seemed to be liking it." his left hand squeezes at your ass cheek before he lowers you down so that your tailbone can feel the surface of the bed again. your heart still thumps in your chest, brain hazy enough that you can't remember half the shit you learned an hour ago.

... panic reaches you again when you realize that yes, in fact, an hour has passed.

"fuck, izuku, i still have work to do!"

he frowns, then leans over you, intertwining his fingers with yours as he pins you down. he's painfully cute as you look up at him, but you know you can't fight your way out of his grip unless he lets you, and something about that can keep you wet in your panties forever.

he dips down low and kisses you, not without making sure that you come up at least a quarter of the way to meet his lips.

"i think you can take a break," he murmurs. he lowers his weight so that he's laying on top of you, and while he's heavy as he clings, it's a comforting pressure that you've grown accustomed to. he shifts his body so that he's not completely crushing you, and you tangle your legs with his, despite your protests that you need to leave.

you can hear a little bit of frustration in his voice and it stills you. he's a little clingier than usual, understandable since all you do is work and study these days, holed up in a little room, scribbling into a notebook by desk light until the wee hours of the morning. after a few months, he's grown tired of asking you if you were coming to bed every night, especially since you just end up flipping through flash cards under the covers after he physically removes you from your chair.

despite this, he's still tolerated your anxiety and dealt with your silence, outbursts and sensitivity to touch.

it's taken a toll on your relationship and you can tell.

your hands find their way into his hair, twisting the curls between your fingers. and you give in.

"fine, i think i'm done for the night anyway."

the second the words leave your mouth, he's back on top of you again, practically beaming.

you blink, in expectation, wondering how he can look so much like an actual puppy wagging his tail at you, green eyes bright and cheery.

"all night?"

suspicious, you start, "izuku... what do you mean-" but then he's rubbing his shaft right against your entrance again and you suck in sharply through your teeth. his eyelids lower as he watches you start to succumb to pleasure again, and in just a couple fluid rolls of the hips, he induces you to moaning his name again-

screaming his name really, when he bullies himself inside you, buries himself in deep, and reminds you that you can be stuffed full of things other than knowledge.

cock obviously, but also love and affection.

[hotvintagepoll]

Propaganda

Ava Gardner (The Killers, The Barefoot Contessa)— She's so goddamn hot. Her and Frank Sinatra could've sandwiched me and I would've thanked them for the privilege

Dorothy Dandridge (Carmen Jones, Porgy and Bess, Island in the Sun)— The first Black actress to ever be nominated for best actress, Dorothy Dandridge was a groundbreaking actress who deserved better. She started her career as a singer, being put in a song-and-dance duo with her sister by their stage mother, and singing in soundies (I highly recommend cow cow boogie, it's adorable), proto-music videos. She started appearing as a featured singer in films. Her star was on the rise and she soon became a star solo performer. She continued acting, but had limited options because she refused to do stereotypical roles. She finally landed a starring role in Bright Road in 1953, but it was the movie Carmen Jones that truly cemented her as a star and sex symbol. Not to sound cheesy, but she literally sizzles on screen. You can't help but understand how poor Harry Belafonte gets caught in her trap, just look at her. This is the role that got her that Oscar nom. She didn't win cause I mean #OscarsSoWhite, but she was a sensation and continued starring in films, despite troubles in her life (including a shitty director bf who fucked with her career and a traumatizing pregnancy/delivery). Outside of her filmwork, she was also an activist, fighting against racism. She left behind an amazing legacy, and continues to inspire many actresses to this day (including also very hot first (and only) black woman to win best actress, Halle Berry).

This is round 4 of the tournament. All other polls in this bracket can be found here. Please reblog with further support of your beloved hot sexy vintage woman.

[additional propaganda submitted under the cut.]

Ava Gardner:

Ava Gardner is one of my favorite actresses of all time. Although a lot of her roles in movies are about her being beautiful and nothing else, there are some films where her acting truly shines.

Gifset: https://www.tumblr.com/pelopides/721438308726603776/ava-gardner-as-pandora-reynolds-pandora-and-the

Gifset 2: https://www.tumblr.com/portraitoflestatonfire/731899355804598272/if-the-loustat-reunion-doesnt-look-like-this-then

HER FACE. LOOK AT IT. Also was a life long supporter of civil rights and a member of the NAACP, had lots of fun love affairs with other stars, bullfighters, married several times but was also happy in between to just have lovers and was unapologetically herself.

I literally gasp every time I see her.

Between 1942 and 1964, Ava Gardner was credited in no less 50 films, and is still considered by some to be the most beautiful actresses that ever graced the silver screen. Despite life-long insecurities regarding her talent as an actress, she weathered public scandal, industry hostility, and outright condemnation by the Catholic Church with fearless grace. She would later in life talk candidly about the reality and pain of living through two (studio approved!!) abortions during her short marriage to Frank Sinatra, and while the two of them could not make their relationship work, they remained in each other’s lives for nearly 30 years. She would forever describe herself as a small-town girl who just got lucky, but always felt like a beautiful outsider.

Really genuinely one of the most beautiful human beings I have ever seen. An autodidact. Had amazing chemistry with Gregory Peck to the point where I do think about watching On The Beach again sometimes because they're so good together even though that movie did destroy me. Was a great femme fatale in many movies.

Dorothy Dandridge propaganda:

Beautiful actress and hand-working and talented singer, she's especially notable for the number of firsts she accomplished such as the first African-American woman to receive a nomination for the Academy Award for Best Actress and the first African-American woman to appear on the cover of Life magazine.

Dorothy Dandridge was a classic Hollywood triple threat, singing, dancing, and acting with the best of them. She was the first African American nominated for an academy award for Best Actress for her role in Carmen Jones and she was just jaw-droppingly beautiful.

this og of black film needs no introduction (star on the hollywood walk of fame anyone?), voice of an angel, heavenly features, just an overall stunning lady :)

Look at her!!! She is so unbelievably charismatic in Carmen, it’s insane. Her chemistry with Harry Belafonte is off the charts, and every time she puts another outdoor [sic] on it’s like ‘oh god this is a whole new level of stunning’ 🥵. She was so so talented, when she’s on screen I genuinely dare you to tear your eyes away from her. Deserves to be known so much better but due to Hollywood racism and a tough personal life she didn’t make it as big as she should have done. She’s incredible.

First Black actress to be nominated for the Oscar for Best Actress! Was the first choice for the role of Cleopatra that went to Elizabeth Taylor (we were ROBBED).

[heartss4val]

"COSMIC FEELINGS."

synopsis: you were supposed to go stargazing with percy, but you get carried away. pairing: percy jackson x gn!reader word count: 1.1k

"isn't this like, against the rules?"

it's an hour past curfew. an hour since percy showed up at your cabin with a picnic blanket under his arm and insisted you come with him. he wouldn't tell you where he was taking you; he just held out his hand for you to hold and urged you to trust him.

"not if we don't get caught." percy replies, swinging your intertwined hands back and forth. "woulda brought you earlier, if it weren't for those harpies. you can't even imagine how many times i had to run for my life to avoid getting eaten."

you smile at his comment. a comfortable silence settles between you two as percy continues to lead you away from the chaotic camp and deep into the wilderness.

the night air is cool and refreshing, hitting your skin as the tranquil sounds of crickets chirping and owls hooting echo through the air, creating a serene and soothing ambiance that envelops you. you probably would've been lost in your thoughts forever if it weren't for percy coming to an abrupt stop.

"we're here." percy says, letting go of your hand to smooth out the blanket he brought.

looking around, you realize he's led you to a grassy area that offers you both an unobstructed sight of the stars. the crescent moon shines brightly over the camp, and the constellations are incredibly clear and vivid. you can't help but notice the andromeda constellation standing out in the center of the sky. fitting.

as you were lost in thought, percy's voice suddenly breaks through, prompting you to snap back to reality. "well, what are you waiting for?" he asks, his tone playful yet insistent. you realize that he's already settled himself on the blanket, waiting for you to join him.

you're about to respond when, without warning, he latches onto your hand and pulls you towards him, causing you to lose your balance and fall on top of his chest. a surprised yelp escapes your lips as you try to regain your composure, while percy chuckles warmly beneath you.

"was that really necessary?" you ask in faux annoyance, though you don't put up much of a fight that would match your "complaint."

percy, still grinning, replies, "don't blame me, i was getting impatient."

you sigh, melting into percy as he holds you flush against his chest. you can't help but feel a sense of contentment wash over you. being a demigod isn't easy; or particularly safe. moments like this are rare and precious. you savor the feeling of his warm embrace as he holds you close, cherishing every second of peace and relaxation that you can find together. despite the chaos and danger that often surrounds your lives, moments like this make it all worth it.

percy draws you in closer, kissing the top of your head, and intertwines his hand with yours as if it was made to be held by him and him only.

as his fingers delicately brush against your skin, percy's voice fills the air with a soft whisper, "you know i'd do anything for you, right?" percy all but muttered as his fingers ran down the side of your cheek, awaiting your response.

"where'd that come from?" you ask, slightly caught off guard by his words. not that you were complaining, though. percy only smiled at you in response, his eyes crinkling at the corners.

"dunno. just wanted to remind you." he said, his tone gentle and reassuring. "in case you forgot." grinning down at you with a smile so bright it could light up the night sky.

"oh yeah, 'cause i'd totally forget with you reminding me only like 10 times a day." you respond, and percy only laughs a little.

the atmosphere was peaceful and quiet, but not in an awkward way. it was a pleasant silence. nevertheless, you still couldn't help but gaze at the dark-haired boy next to you, taking in his features. his cheeks were slightly rosy, indicative of the chilly weather, and the reflection of stars in his eyes was captivating. you could stare at him forever.

yeah, a sky full of stars and you were staring at his eyes.

percy seemed to take notice of your gaze and quietly remarked, "you're staring." a smile spread across his lips as he looked down at you.

"you caught me." you admitted, putting your hands up in mock defense.

"yeah, well you you made it pretty obvious."

you swatted his chest playfully, but his smile only grew wider. now that you were "caught", you didn't try to hide your gaze anymore. a faint smile curved up your lips as you tenderly ran your finger along the bridge of his nose, playfully booping the tip. he scrunched his face and snickered quietly in response to your movement.

a warmth spread through your heart that could only be caused by hearing the sound of percy's laughter. his laughter, so genuine and carefree, was, as cliché as it sounds, like music to your ears. you know all too well the struggles and hardships he has faced, so seeing him so happy in this moment was truly heartwarming. his face lit up with pure joy, features softened and relaxed. his laughter, whether loud and throaty at a joke someone made, or soft and sleepy like right now, was infectious and you found yourself smiling along with him. his arms tightened around you in a lazy but needy embrace, a desperate attempt to bring you even closer to his body. in this moment, everything else faded away, leaving only the two of you wrapped up in each other's arms.

"damn, thought we were supposed to be stargazing." you comment, taking a quick glance at the stars before turning back to percy.

"oh, who cares about stars when i have you? you're a better sight, anyway." he replies, followed by a soft yawn but a surprising amount of energy peppering the side of your face with little kisses.

"tell that to Astraeus." you remark, and percy only rolls his eyes in response, clearly more interested in showering you with affection.

you continue to lie there with percy, your legs intertwined as he kisses your forehead every few minutes. no words need to be exchanged; just being together is enough.

you're aware that you should go back to your designated cabins before the harpies catch you, but the peacefulness of the night, combined with percy's embrace, is too good to leave so soon. the chirping of crickets and other night animals fill the air while the moon and stars shine particularly bright with a radiance that surrounds you both.

suddenly, percy breaks the silence, "i love you." "to the moon and back?" "to the moon and back."

a/n

kinda got carried away with this one and forgot i was writing about stargazing.. had to change the synopsis so it would make sense, work smarter not harder 💪💪

also in no world should writing dialogue be this hard.

xx val

[angelwhisp3rs]

⍣ ೋ star crossed

Pairing: RE4!Leon x Fem!Reader

Summary: Two lovers, destined to not be together all across history

Tags: fluff; angst, a little gory (not descriptive! but tragedies happen); there is a happy ending (i'd kms if it didnt); they just suffer a lot

Notes: imagined that as i listened to a disney songs playlist, and i couldnt hold myself back. This was a little different for me, so any feedback is welcomed (pls be kind ill cry)

Rome, 456.

As the moon reached the sky, shining upon the stars, Empress Serena gave birth to a beautiful baby boy, the future of the Roman Empire: little Leo. He grew to be strong and dashing, a dignified heir to such a impotent throne.

Unfortunately, the royal life proved to be unforgiving with so many obligations, and the certainty that no matter what he did, it would never be enough. 

As the empire went through a rough patch, so did his relationship with the townsfolk - whenever he believed he was doing something helpful, the critics were always the first ones to prove otherwise. 

In a particular evening, an old lady in one of the poorest villages stomped into the castle, and pointed directly at Leo as he sat in his throne, sending a powerful spell on his way: “Your actions ought to be punished for all of your existence, and as long as you live, your heart shall never be free! For all eternity, like the sun and moon, your heart won't be complete!”

With the heavy words, she was escorted away from the palace, as Leo's heart felt heavy. She must be just some crazed lady.

Oh, how wrong he was.

'•.¸♡ ♡¸.•'︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵'•.¸♡ ♡¸.•'

Through his traveling and diplomatic affairs, Leo met a bright woman in Egypt. Her eyes shined like the brightest constellation in the sky, her wits were unmatched, and her body could lure even the blind. To say he fell in love was an understatement.

“On another visit?” she asked him as they met, her eyebrow arched.

“Egypt is quite successful these days. I can’t miss on opportunities” Leo answered with a knowing smirk, the back of his fingers caressing her jaw.

She looked up at him, her eyes sincere in her feelings as his touch was very welcomed “Opportunities or people?”

“I think you know the answer.” he said quietly, pressing a kiss to her forehead.

Their shared moments would be forever marked in his mind, appreciative that he could be the man he was with her, not Rome's Emperor. 

After deciding that she was the only one he ever wanted to marry, they met up in a nice flower camp, as he planned to ask for her forever on the same day. 

As they reached the designated place, Leo managed to get on one knee and pour his heart out to her. When he made the important question, as she was about to answer it, raiders invaded Egypt in a surprise attack, and before she could even say “yes”, the clan leader sliced through her heart, making her fall down and soon Leo followed, throat sliced open by another member. 

As life drained from their bodies, they looked at each other as they bled, their hands touching as they said their last goodbyes.

'•.¸♡ ♡¸.•'︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵'•.¸♡ ♡¸.•'

France, 1789

Leonidas fought against the imbalance that happened between the poorest and royals. The people were tired of poverty, brought by the dumb decisions of the French Monarchy.

As he disseminated his knowledge and beliefs, a royal carriage passed through, with the Princess inside it. She and Leonidas locked their eyes, and a shiver ran through their bodies. 

The monarchs always had empty eyes, but hers was so alive. She gave him a gentle passing smile - even if he was criticizing her existence, making his heart beat fast.

Whenever royal gatherings happened, Leonidas and his followers were the first ones there protesting. The only one who ever dared to meet them and talk was her. It was bad - his heart throbbed whenever she spoke, her voice acting like a sweet melody to him.

“Another one of your hate campaigns, Leonidas?” she asked, smirking, fanning her painted face with a luxurious fan.

“Just fighting for my people and myself” he answered in a dignified voice, his eyes not breaking eye contact with her.

“Just fighting? If you keep following me I might as well think your objectives involve me, but not as in a revolutionary sense” she winked, hiding her face behind the pink fan.

“Don’t even waste your time thinking about false pretenses” he smirked back, pulling her fan down as he watched her pretty features, all worthy of a Princess.

It was satirical - the biggest fighter against her family was the one who managed to catch her heart. She was usually the quickest one to brush off suitors, but the rebellion leader caught her heart, and she didn't want him to let go.

When Leonidas was finally ready to act on his feelings, the fall of the Bastille happened, and soon did the fall of the monarchy. As a punishment, all were to be beheaded in a public gathering, their heads thrown around to celebrate France’s new beginning.

As she was guided to the guillotine, her eyes locked in his as the blade sliced her, a lonely tear running on her cheeks. 

Leonidas, at that moment, felt hollow and empty, wondering what he did to deserve such feeling.

'•.¸♡ ♡¸.•'︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵'•.¸♡ ♡¸.•'

Italy, 1944

The war was at its peak, causing pain and destruction anywhere it passed by. Lionel fought bravely battle after battle, trying his hardest to stay safe at least till this he'll was over. 

The highlight among all that destruction was the newest nurse, hair always in carefully made curls, and lips adorned in the most lovely shades as she tended every soldier with care.

Whenever he laid on the infirmary in her care, she always spent the longest on him, sharing heartfelt comments and small jokes, hoping to bring a smile to his serious face. Also, she chose not to mention that his heartbeat was always fast with her - they were in a war after all, they had more serious matters to pay attention to.

“Although it makes me happy to see you, it pains my heart that it needs to involve your pain” she said softly, holding his hand with one of her hands as the other one cleaned his wound.

“I’m tough, if I could I would bruise myself completely to be under your care for days” Lionel answered with a whimper as she hit a soft spot.

“Don’t you ever think about that! I need you in one piece, so we ought to live our lives together, in happiness, after all this tragedy ends” she said in a hopeful tone, pressing a kiss to his skin.

“Do you promise me a nice house and delicious dinners?” he asked playfully, an endearing smile not leaving his face

“Better. I promise you a home” she answered quietly, moving away to tend another soldier's wounds.

After a German attack in a secluded village, the soldiers could only try to pray for any survivors - the attack was brutal. The houses were on the ground, some toys and furniture disorganized all over the place, a gray feeling hanging around their heads.

When the troop was ready to leave, Lionel heard a quiet sound under some rubble, calling his colleagues to check it out. Working their way to the sound, an old lady was buried underneath it, breathing with difficulty.

Lionel didn't think twice and fought to work her out of there, but when she was at his hold, it was already too late. On her last breath, she pressed a palm to his face and whispered “son… It's already late for this life, but I banish the dark hold in your destiny. After so much suffering, your hearts deserve happiness” and with that, she was gone.

Lionel cried, so tired with all the tragedy and death around him, he didn't really understand what she meant, but laid her body in respect and moved forward.

Sadly, no one could predict a blitzkrieg, and one that hit exactly where they moved, and also so near their base - their safety. Lionel was unfortunately one of the victims, the bomb hitting near his body.

The last thing he could comprehend was his body being moved as the pretty nurse moved desperately to save him, crying as she held his body and he finally let go, thinking of their home.

'•.¸♡ ♡¸.•'︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵'•.¸♡ ♡¸.•'

USA, 2023

Leon was sore after returning from another mission - one that could be considered a suicide one, but he wasn't that lucky to finally be able to rest peacefully.

He threw his body on his couch, but soon stood up and grunted as he reminded himself that he promised to go to an art exhibition with Claire and Chris, a piece of normalcy in a word reeking with monsters and nightmares.

How Claire managed to get Chris to come to a thing like that? Only God knows, but it would be a welcomed company amongst the bullshit that the art world revolves around.

As they reached the gallery, packed with artists, critics and obnoxious people who saw art in a dot of paint, Claire looked in glee at all the art pieces as Leon and her brother played a game of “blind or high?”, where they tried to guess if the artist was blind while making the piece or just purely high on whatever drug Umbrella passed along the streets to control people.

As they looked at the pieces, Claire stopped specifically at a painting of a couple sitting on a field, a picnic towel underneath them as the sky was purple, with the sun setting down and the moon reaching up. There were some children playing in the background, but much couldn’t be said, as they were mere shadows.

Leon looked at the painting puzzled, something in the art making his heart ache and long for, but he had no idea why. While Chris just whispered a “oh, definitely high” at him, he couldn't answer. The sight felt so familiar, but so painful, that he wanted to cry. Maybe fighting monsters and almost dying everyday was finally getting him.

A lady stopped in front of that painting, and looked at Leon with a witty smile and sparkly eyes “what do you see?”

As he looked at her, it was like the world stopped. She was just an unknown woman, but something felt so familiar in her. His heart was screaming for him to hug and kiss her, and Leon didn't know if he finally went insane or he was just deprived of affection (maybe both, but he didn't want to put a lot of thought into it).

Her hair matched her face perfectly, her makeup was minimal, contrasting with the red lipstick on her inviting lips. Her clothing molded perfectly into her pretty body, and he had to hold himself back from looking at her for too long.

With a deep sigh, he truthfully told her “I'm not good with art… but I think they look like a couple in love. A family, even. Maybe enjoying a picnic on a Sunday” he answered the stranger, holding back a blush.

Claire slapped him, embarrassed “you just described the painting you idiot, she meant more profoundly!”

The lady giggled, making Leon forget how to breathe for a second. She shakes her head and adds “no, I liked his observation. It looks like a dream Sunday, in my opinion” She winked at Leon

Still fighting a blush, he teased back “Okay then, Picasso, what do you see?”

The woman took a long breath and looked at the painting again “I see pain, but also hope. It feels like broken hearts being brought together. Kinda poetic.”

Leon could only look at her and smile, as she did the same. Pain and love. Leon could understand those feelings mixed together.

As they kept talking and walking through the gallery together, they failed to see the owner of the painting, an old woman who watched them with a smirk. 

She turned to her assistant and said “Isn't destiny a funny thing? I guess I have to watch closely for inspiration for my next pieces, I've never gotten the full story before.”

The assistant looked at the artist in confusion, but didn't press the matter. The only thing she could think was: “Guess all the best artists are crazy people.”

[padfootagain]

Old Crush

Hello ! Here is a request that was sent my way by an anon : ‘Great! So I had this idea for a Ben imagine... So you were a big fan of Ben since you saw him in the Narnia movies, and you had a crush on him for years. Now, years later you're dating him but you never told him about knowing who he was before meeting him nor about this crush you had on him/his character (does that have sense?😅) And somehow he finds out and he's mad about it because he feels betrayed that you lied and he thinks you are only dating him because of who he is. But a happy ending, please!’

Thank you for sending in a request, anon! I hope you enjoy what I’ve written for you!

I hope you all like this! Tell me what you think!

****

Pairing: Ben Barnes x reader

Warnings: a bit of angst. Hurt/comfort. Fluffy ending. (the ask was perfect to use some interviews about Ordinary Day so… because I don’t know but whenever he speaks about being enough my heart just goes dfiejierjiejri)

Summary: Ben didn’t know that you were a fan of his already before you started dating, and when he finds out, he doesn’t like it at all. All his insecurities are suddenly brought back to life…

Word Count: 3156

Ben's Masterlist - Main Masterlist

It was a beautiful day, odds were in Ben’s favour to spend a lovely afternoon with you.

Lunch in the sun on your balcony, in your shared home, eating a tasty meal and drinking some fine wine. He glimpsed at the shining ring on your finger as the gem caught the sun and glimmered even more than usual, while he listened to you ramble about something exciting that happened at work. And it was perfect.

Perfect. Everything about this moment, about you, about the two of you… was perfect.

He wasn’t claiming that it wasn’t hard sometimes, because it was. You butted heads, you fought from time to time, you got annoyed at him and he got mad at you. He was away often and you weren’t always around. Sometimes, it was rough, but it was worth it. That was what Ben meant when ‘perfect’ popped into his mind to be written on everything around him. No matter what, he was certain you were the one. No matter what, he was certain he would fight for you. The two of you would make it work, no matter what. Because you were everything he wanted, and he was enough for you.

Him. Ben. Not Ben Barnes, not the actor, not the fame, not the money… just… him. Simple Ben who overthought everything, was too cautious sometimes, had only a vague idea of what a meme was, loved goofing around, and made a mediocre chili that he claimed was amazing. You loved him, and he knew it. He knew that if tomorrow he dropped everything and walked out of the glamour and fame you would hold his hand and give him a bright smile and ask ‘okay, where are we going, then?’ And it made it perfect. To be enough made it perfect…

A dreamy smile formed on his lips at the thought that this was going to last forever. You were signing up for a lifetime together. Endless supplies of banter, of conversations that lasted till dawn, of cuddles on the sofa, of kisses in a kitchen bathed with dawn, of hands holding on each other as if they never wanted to let go. Endless supplies of silly fights forgotten on the pillow, of eyes opening to the sight of the other sleeping, of boxes of chocolate brought home every day for a week every month, of flights caught to close the distance, of faces drawn in pixels and voices distorted by phones, of painful goodbyes before climbing in a cab.

All of it, good or bad, was about to last for the rest of your lives, together. A couple of months more to wait until you would both say yes and be each other’s for a lifetime…

Sometimes, he wondered if things would have been different if you had met under different circumstances. Instead of bumping – quite literally – into each other in this supermarket… what if you had met and started dating knowing who he was? Would he have opened up so easily then? Would he have let himself be drawn to you with such a force?

But then again, you didn’t know who he was back then. And he was thankful for it. He hadn’t had to worry about the fame, about you being earnest, about money… none of that mattered, not between the two of you.

He was just Ben with you, and it was enough. And you were just Y/N, and it was enough.

“Are you even listening at this point?”

Ben shook himself out of his dreamy state, looking away from your shimmering ring and up to your eyes again. He wanted to drown in their colour forever…

You were amused more than annoyed, head tilted to the side and a playful smile on your lips.

“You’re talking about Francis breaking the coffee machine. Again,” he answered with a cocky smile. “Of course, I’m listening, love.”

“You seemed to have zoned out for a moment,” you explained before eating the last bite of your dessert.

“Was just… kind of lost in thought, I guess. But I was listening.”

“What were you thinking about? You were smiling, it ought to be nice.”

His smile widened, something mischievous and flirtatious added to the crooked gesture.

“I was thinking about this,” he answered, nodding towards your ring. “And about all the naughty things we’ll do on our honeymoon.”

You laughed, choking on the piece of fruit you were eating. And God, did he adore that sound…

“And… what kind of thoughts these might be? Are you making plans?” you asked back, flirt lowering your voice too, and Ben couldn’t help the way his heart jumped in his chest at the sound.

“I am, actually,” he fought back, leaning a little across the table, a dangerous glint darkening his black eyes. “I have a full list, at this point… of things I’m going to do to you.”

He noticed your sharp intake of breath, and leaned back in his chair, winking at you in a seductive way, making you nervously giggle.

“Can’t wait for that, then… Can I get a preview?”

Ben let out a loud laugh, shaking his head.

“No way, I’m keeping that for later. We should relax this afternoon.”

“Sex is… relaxing…”

“No…” Ben shook his head, amused.

Instead, Ben ended up doing the dishes while you settled on the sofa and looked for something to watch on TV. You went through the channels, until Ben’s face appeared on the screen.

“Oh! Honey! You’re on TV!”

Ben chuckled, putting away the last plate before walking inside the living room to join you. Indeed, his face was on the screen; a shaven, much younger version of himself.

“Oh, it’s Narnia,” he said with a fond smile on his lips as some of his friends appeared on the screen as well.

He sat by your side on the sofa and immediately snuggled against you, rolling his eyes as you whistled when he was on the screen again, playfully catcalling him.

“My… my… look at this handsome guy, right there!” you teased, pinching his side, and Ben couldn’t help but blush.

“Not bad, huh? Is he your type?” he asked, playing along, the red reaching the tip of his ears.

He tried hard to refrain a grin, but he couldn’t.

“Definitely! He looks a little like my fiancé, you see?”

“Oh, I see…”

You both exploded with laughter, unable to keep a straight face for much longer.

“You are definitely my type,” you went on. “God… even then, I had a crush on you!”

Ben frowned, looking at you questioningly.

“What do you mean?”

He squeezed your thigh, the feeling of your body against him reassuring.

“Well… even as Caspian, I had a crush on you.”

“When?”

His frown deepened, and he couldn’t help the way his heart sped up all of a sudden. Because… you couldn’t be meaning that. You didn’t know who he was when you met…

“I mean that when I watched Narnia for the first time, I had a crush on Caspian. So… on you… kind of.”

“But when did you watch it?”

“When it came out! I went to see these movies with some friends at the time.”

You seemed puzzled by his reaction, and perhaps it was normal for you to do so. You frowned, the small crease forming across your brow. And perhaps it was but logical for you to react like that, but Ben didn’t think so. Instead, he merely stared at you, frowning hard, almost glaring, his jaw clenched tight, all of a sudden…

“What?” you asked, even more taken aback as Ben sat up, letting go of you completely.

You knew him before you met. You knew who he was that day, in the supermarket, and during your first date and…

You had a crush on him already? What… if you knew who he was then… had you ever been interested in him back then? That rainy afternoon when you bumped so hard into him in this supermarket he fell over?

He couldn’t control the way his heart was racing, the growing feeling that was crushing his chest more and more. This feeling, so painful, of… betrayal…

“Ben? What’s wrong, honey?”

He got up at the sound of the nickname.

Was it real? From the beginning? And why had you not told him you knew who he was? What was your plan? Were you… were you lying about the two of you?

“You’ve never told me,” he spoke at last, voice low and shaking with an anger he struggled to control.

You shrugged; and Ben hated you for it. Because everything was crumbling around him, his mind was spiralling, and you were… shrugging?

“What about it? I love these movies. Haven’t watched them in ages, though…”

“When we met… when we went on our first date, you never told me you knew who I was.”

You frowned hard, failing to understand why he seemed angry now, why his voice was so low, a rumble of upcoming thunder.

“I didn’t recognize you at first,” you admitted. “Not in the supermarket. Not before you told me your full name, and that you were an actor.”

“That was on our first date! Why didn’t you tell me then?”

But again, you shrugged, at a loss for words. And he could see it in your eyes: that you didn’t understand what was happening, why he was mad, what you had done wrong.

Ben tried to take a few deep breaths, in an attempt to slow down his pounding heart and to clear his head. But it didn’t work well…

“What does it matter, anyway?” you asked, and Ben scoffed in response, running a hand through his hair in frustration.

“You should have told me…”

“Why? It was ages ago… who cares?”

“I care!” he replied, raising his voice, the announced storm finally reaching the surface, making the air heavy and filled with electricity.

“I don’t understand,” you admitted, keeping your voice low and calm, but it didn’t soothe Ben’s anger.

“I thought… You said you hadn’t watched anything I was in. You lied!”

“I didn’t lie! At the time, you had just finished working on the Punisher, and I hadn’t watched that.”

Four years… that was too long ago, he couldn’t remember the exact words that were spoken. And perhaps you were right. Perhaps you had never claimed to have never watched anything he had been in but were only unaware of the project he was working on at the time. Perhaps he had been the one distorting your words a little. But it didn’t matter. Ben was still angry, even if he might be in the wrong.

Because it meant that… how could he trust you now? How could he know that you were the one? That he he was enough?

“Did you go on a date with me because I’m an actor?”

It was your turn to be hurt, he read it in your eyes.

“What?”

“Did you accept to go on a date with me only because I’m an actor? Just for the clout?”

“How dare you!” you protested, standing up as well, hurt mingling now with anger. “Of course not! Who do you think I am?”

“I don’t know… I’m not sure to know that anymore…”

“What do you mean?”

“I thought you went on a date with me, and then became my girlfriend because you… not because of the fame, or the money or…”

“Of course, I didn’t! What’s next, you’re gonna call me a whore and claim I only slept with you for money? I don’t need your money, and I never have!”

“I didn’t say that…”

“You’d better not! Besides, let’s bring your ego down a notch, because you might be talented, but you’re not a superstar either, Ben.”

“No need to be mean.”

“You’re basically saying I’ve slept with you for money! How is that not insulting?”

But Ben was less and less convincing at hiding his hurt behind his anger. Because there were tears at the corners of his angry gaze, and a shakiness in his voice due to a tightened throat; and if he clenched his jaw and fists now, it was to hide the fear that crept within his heart.

Because if you had fantasized on this person he wasn’t… was it what you saw in him? Was it what you saw at the beginning, at least?

Because he thought that he was enough, but then again… was he? Had you fallen in love with him or with the image of him you already liked?

“What about the fantasy of it then? What about that crush on someone I’m not?” he spat, holding onto the rage to hide the fragility he longed to forget.

“What are you even talking about?”

“Was I a fantasy to you?”

“What?!”

“You heard me.”

“What do you mean ‘a fantasy’?”

“Well, I don’t know… Apparently you had a crush on me before we even met! Or, to be more precise, you had a crush on someone I am not.”

He expected you to keep your voice high, maybe to raise your voice even more. But you didn’t. Instead, he was taken aback as you visibly relaxed, as your gaze softened, as you heaved a sigh.

“Ben… what’s wrong? For real?”

“I told you what was wrong! You lied, and now… I don’t even know if this is real anymore. Us. Our whole relationship… we were supposed to get married!”

“Were?”

“I don’t know anymore.”

But he regretted these words as soon as they passed his lips. Because despite his stupid doubts, he loved you with all his heart. You were the one, he knew it.

Why was he pushing you away like this, then?

But you didn’t fall for it, didn’t follow him down this path of anger he was opening for you. Instead, you wrapped your arms around him, holding him tightly, and he was so taken aback that he didn’t protest, nor moved away.

“I love you,” you said, your voice soothing again, warm and reassuring, your natural tone. “I love you more than anything. And this has nothing to do with your job, or with whether or not I liked Caspian years ago. I fell in love with you on our seventh date when you got us lost on our way to the beach because you have no sense of direction whatsoever.”

He rolled his eyes, but you weren’t fooled. You could feel the muscles of his back relaxing under your hands.

“I love you, Ben. You know I do. So… what is this all about?”

He shrugged, looking away so you wouldn’t see that he was holding back tears.

How could he say it? That he was terrified all over again that one day you would change your mind. That one day, you wouldn’t think as him being enough…

Because it happened before, but you didn’t really know that. It happened, over and over again. Because people expected him to be someone else, and they fell for his public image at first, for a fictional character, and then they woke up next to him and they just… disappeared. Because disappointment always drove people away.

But this time around, it was different. You were different. You made him feel so safe, so confident, so loved… if you turned up to dismiss him just like the others, Ben wasn’t certain he would be able to overcome it this time around.

But he couldn’t tell you that.

It was okay, though, he didn’t really have to. You read it in his eyes when you caught his gaze for a second before he could look away once more, you noticed it in his clenched jaw and the slight shaking of his hands, you saw it in the fear that he tried to hide still but was painted in every crinkle of his handsome face.

“There’s no need to push me away,” you spoke in the softest voice, and he felt safe all over again. “I’m not going anywhere. I’m not leaving. I’m happy with you. And I don’t care about anything but being with you. With the real you. The one waking up way too early on Sundays, and who gets lost everywhere he goes, and always has to make lists for everything, and sings all the time, and cuddles me every morning, and worries about our tickets way too much when we leave for a vacation and… You. Just you. I just want to be with you, Ben. Everything else doesn’t matter. Okay? Do you understand? I don’t need anything more, as long as I can spend my life loving you.”

You could have gone on, but Ben suddenly wrapped his arms around you as well, finally reciprocating your gesture, and he held you tightly, so tightly you could hardly breathe, but you didn’t mind.

You heard him sniffing as he buried his face into your hair, breathed deeply the sweet scent of your shampoo.

He was being ridiculous… this was ridiculous… You were right. You loved him. And he loved you… God, he loved you so damn much, it physically hurt…

“I’m sorry,” he breathed, trying to calm down, anger slowly being replaced by this sense of fragility he was desperate to avoid. “I didn’t… I’m sorry. It was pretty ridiculous, right?”

“It’s okay.”

“I… I guess I had a little… insecurity crisis for a moment.”

“Yeah, I got that. I don’t really understand why though.”

“It’s just… I’m afraid sometimes that people don’t like me as much as they like the idea they have of me. Do you understand?”

Slowly, you nodded, he felt your head moving against his cheek and shoulder.

“I see. But I don’t care about that. I love you for who you are.”

It was his time to nod.

“It’s just… I’m worried sometimes that one day you’ll realize I’m just me, nothing more. And that… I’m not… that I can’t get you more than that. More than me.”

“But you’re everything I need, Ben. You’re enough. You’re so much more than enough, actually.”

Finally, he smiled, grinned even, you felt the gesture against your skin as he pressed his lips to your temple.

“I feel very stupid. I’m sorry,” he apologized in a whisper.

“It’s alright.”

“Are you mad?”

“No, I’m not. I think you could have handled that better, but it’s okay. Do you still want to watch a movie with me?”

He chuckled, pulling away just enough to gently hold your face in both his hands, and kiss you for a rather long time. If any trace of anger had remained in your heart, it was fully gone after this loving gesture.

He offered you a grateful smile when you finally opened your eyes again.

“I will always want to watch movies with you, my love. Even when I act like an idiot.”

***************************************

Taglist: @reg-arcturus-black @wolfmoonmusic

[mettywiththenotes]

Thinking about how this shot in the opening reminds me of the panel in 340 and I'm fairly certain it's meant to be the same scene (except obviously a little exaggerated but it's the same situation - window, chair, tied up in a room)

When I watched this part in the opening, the word "judgement" came to mind. It sort of feels like that with how the light is cast over him, his head low in that dark room alone

And when you pair the dialogue in the panel with it, it feels like "situation vs emotion", and what I mean by that is the reality of the situation is Aoyama is tied up spilling his fears to Aizawa on the other side listening to him. He's literally not alone. The window is also much smaller in comparison to what the opening depicts. That is the reality of the scene

Emotionally though, this is a low point in Aoyama's character. He betrayed his classmates, his friends. He was arrested. He hurt the people he cares about. Even before he was caught, it was clear he thought of himself as a scumbag, a "villain", for having ties with AFO. In the scene in 340, he goes on to say he wants to crawl into a hole and die, to leave it all behind, which shows just how much he detests himself for what he did. It shows his mental state at the time

So I think the feeling of judgement fits so well with the visual Bones chose for the opening. This is Aoyama confessing his feelings of despair to his teacher, his fear not just of AFO but not being able to sparkle as his friends do. And the judgement paired with the way Aizawa tells him his sins will be with him forever, how Aoyama later goes on about "atoning for his sins" in the story, that matches the atmosphere here too

I'd like to also add that while there's the symbolism of the light outside the cell being associated with good and freedom while the dark inside of it could be associated with feeling trapped and that despair I mentioned earlier, it also reminds me of what Aoyama said about his friends sparkling

"I'm also scared that I can never sparkle and shine as they do."

Aoyama fearing being, say, dull and lackluster in comparison to his friends is also depicted in the shot in the opening. Aoyama in the dark, no longer twinkling like he usually would before this, while the window shows bright light shining through the bars, almost as if his friends are on the other side, casting his shadow

"The more they express their faith in me, the more I lose faith in myself."

You could also say the idea of the light being his friends on the other side of the bars is also those same friends waiting for him to come out, to join them and fight with them again (which he later gets to do in the war). But then, even as they are waiting for him, he loses confidence, which I think you can see in the way that his head hangs away from the window, so as his friends are waiting for him, putting faith in his return, he is losing faith in himself

I don't really have much left to say on this but I think it is just so interesting how you can tell so much from something that only lasts, what, a second? Which just goes to show how amazingly well this opening was put together. Of course, manga readers already know what happens with Aoyama's plot line, but to be given a shot that shows a symbolic angle on the scene AND Aoyama's feelings is so great

[voylitscope]

Stucky Recs: Back To School

It's September, and that felt like the very most appropriate time for a back-to-school-themed rec post.

So: A rec post of 11, very seasonally appropriate, high school/college Stucky AUs.

Note: As part of my personal campaign to combat the persistent idea that every great fic in this fandom was written in 2015, I'm now marking recs of fics written post-2016 and recs of fics written post-Endgame.

🎓 The Daily Rogers | Nonymos | Explicit | 32,154 words | College

We have a (surprisingly?) large number of fics in this fandom that use tumblr as a decently central plot point. Of all of them, I feel like this one is probably the most well-known. (Unless it's this one?) This fic, featuring a defenses-way-up skinny Steve and a very sweet, but also very assertive, Bucky, is super memorable, and so incredibly well done. It's somewhat of a meet-ugly, or, honestly, a first-several-encounters-ugly, and I love the way their relationship develops from there over the course of the story. I also love what that relationship turns into once they're together. Plus, the place this story gets them— both as individuals and in their relationship — before it ends is a satisfying and beautifully done one.

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“She’s not my girlfriend,” Steve mumbled, handing him the phone back. “She, uh, she’s the one who drove me to the hospital when Rumlow broke my arm that first time. She’s a bit protective now.” Bucky stared at him. Steve—and when had Bucky started to think of him as Steve?—looked fucking adorable in Bucky’s hoodie, with his stupid glasses and his pink lips. He’d also left Bucky’s bed completely covered in blood and dirt after attempting to fight a guy twice his size. Who’d broken his arm before and threatened to do it again. “I think I understand a bit better why they made a whole Tumblr about you,” Bucky said. Steve bristled all over again. “What’s that supposed to mean?” Bucky looked heavenwards. “Somethin’ nice, Rogers.” Steve looked—well, he looked puzzled. Like he didn’t know what to do with that.

🎓stars shining bright above you | cable-knit-sweater @cable-knit-sweater | Teen | 3,339 words | High school & College | **Post- Endgame Rec**

Look, sometimes, you want to read angst. Intense emotions. Canon. Canon divergence. Sometimes, you want to cry about these boys. But then there are times that your heart needs to read about them just being all happy and painfully cute about each other — just being wide-eyed teenagers with wide-eyed feelings about each other. My heart does, anyway. This fic is perfect for that. So sweet, so lovely. A fic that left me smiling and thinking about the two of them on a blanket under the stars.

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Steve thinks he’s going to die. He wants nothing more than to say yes. To the holding down, that is. But he cannot find his voice at all. He looks up into Bucky’s eyes. It’s dark, but the moon and the stars in the sky already provide enough light to see those eyes sparkle. They’re so close now, almost breathing the same air. Forget stars, forget meteor showers. Steve wants to drown in those grey blue eyes, and he’s barely holding his head above water as it is, judging from how hard it feels to breathe.

🎓He's All That | crinklefries | Teen | 88,665 words | College | *Post 2016 rec*

All of the rom-com AUs forever for these two, please. This is such an engrossing and immersive fic. That's something I really enjoy about college AUs, and that works so well in this particular fic —the way that, because actual college campuses are often their own little world, the world's of college AUs can be these really tight little realities with their own specific sort of pacing and consequences. I love that, and I love it in this fic — it's so beautifully done, and it's such a great read, too, I think, because the original rom-com is both high school set and limited to being movie length/tied to Hollywood standards. There is so much more depth and additional story here, while still having that really fun element of being an AU loosely based on a film. So enjoyable, and such a satisfying read.

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“You do this often?” he asks, keeping his voice quiet to preserve the stillness around them. “Lay on the ground and play dead?” “Yeah,” Steve quirks a smile. “It was the second trick I learned after fetch.” Despite himself, that makes Bucky grin. “You always have an answer for everything huh?” he says. That makes Steve sigh a little, his shoulders droop enough that it’s only then that they both notice they had been hunched close to his ears. “Yeah,” he says. “Character flaw.” “One man’s character flaw is another man’s personality trait,” Bucky says. He stretches his legs out in front of him, props himself up on his palms behind him. “Pretty sure a personality trait can also be a character flaw, but I appreciate the sentiment,” Steve says with a half-smile.

🎓That Boy is a Problem | 2bestfriends | Explicit | 10,091 words | College | **Post- Endgame rec**

I sometimes debate whether I should go with including fics on these rec posts that fall heavy on the porn side of a porn-to-plot ratio, solely because, at a certain point, smut-heavy fics feel like their own thing that should go in their own post. But! That said, this fic, although it does fall pretty heavy on the porn side of the porn-to-plot-ratio is very, very solidly a college fic. It also does have a really fun plot, and I really, so much, enjoy that it features a Steve POV that is an absolute, just total and complete disaster about Bucky. Also! This fic has vibes and aesthetics that I quite appreciate.

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Steve grins like an absolute buffoon when he sees him, frozen in place like he's rooted there. Bucky glances around, gaze settling on Steve. The expression that spreads across his face in response to the realization that Steve is in fact there waiting for him is incandescent; Bucky actually brightens like maybe he wasn't expecting Steve to show. He draws his shoulders up and walks to Steve. When he reaches him, Bucky reaches out and grabs him by the front of his hoodie, pulling him into a kiss. Steve goes with a muffled squeak, ducking down to meet the firm press of lips. For a second, Steve doesn't know what to do with his hands, hovering just above Bucky's hips as he grasps tightly at Steve's shirt. Just as Steve's knees go weak and fireworks start to go off behind his eyes, Bucky pulls away, blinking at him with big, sultry eyes. "Hey, pal. You're very punctual. You ready?"

🎓Natasha Romanoff's Dating Service | HMSLusitania | Mature | 12,223 words | College | **Post-Engame Rec**

So, here's a thing about me: I really like it when fics emphasize that Steve and Bucky are meant for each other. That's it always them, In all universes. It's a thing I'm big into for these two. And this is why I enjoy so much when a fic pulls off the thing where there is some sort of doubled get-together or double feelings build. Like, ID porn fics can do this sometimes — falling for each other two different ways at once — as can fics like this one — a fic about Steve and Bucky both ignoring Nat's insistence that she knows the perfect guy for them and instead going out to a bar and meeting a total stranger. A total stranger they fall for basically on sight. A total stranger who, as it turns out, is that exact guy Nat meant the whole time. — Yeah. That's a premise I really enjoy. This is a fic I really, really enjoy. A total delight.

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“Now I’ve got some ridiculously low resting heart rate,” Steve said, tipping his head sideways towards his wrist. Taking the hint, Bucky pressed his fingers to the pulse point below the base of Steve’s thumb. Maybe he did have a low resting heart rate, but if he did, Steve was not currently at rest. It made Bucky feel a little better, knowing that for some reason – Bucky? – Steve’s heart was racing. “Do you want to, um,” Steve started. When he paused, unsure, he touched his tongue to his bottom lip before chewing on it and something in Bucky’s body short-circuited. He just hoped it wasn’t the actual mechanical hardware attached to his left side, because that would be ill-timed. “Go home with you?” he suggested quietly. “Yeah,” Steve said. “That.”

🎓What a Wonderful World This Would Be | Mambo | Teen | 28,723 words | College

You know how sometimes you read a fic and you find yourself literally making embarrassing sorts of noises out loud about it? And also feel yourself making ridiculous faces at your screen in response to it? Right, that was me reading this fic. Featuring an art major Steve who is completely convinced Fraternity Bucky is going to be some total jerk of a guy when they're paired as project partners — until they have all of one conversation and Bucky is ... you know, sweet, friendly, smart, charming, and generally Bucky-like. So then Steve spends thousands and thousands of words falling hard for Bucky while also being super confused by why Bucky wants to keep spending time with him — and incredibly doubtful that Bucky actually does want to be spending time with him. Even though Bucky spends thousands and thousands of words being the Very Most Obvious that he's super into Steve. It's so ridiculously and delightfully cute. I love it a lot. Also! This fic is actually the start of an entire college AU 'verse. I've only read this first fic, but the rest of the 'verse is on my TBR and is likely equally delightful.

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Steve’s brow furrows. “How do you know I do?” Bucky moves his laptop off his lap, sets it on the floor. He stretches his arms up over his head, exposing the stretch of tan skin where his shirt rides up over his jeans. And Steve is definitely not looking for purely artistic and aesthetic reasons, but manages to drag his eyes away before Bucky notices. “You always annotate your books. I can see all those post-its from where I sit, even. You don’t talk much but you’re always leafing through your book because you know which exact quote will prove somebody wrong. Don’t try to argue; I totally notice.” That’s not untrue. “No fair,” Steve says. “You sit behind me. I can’t stare at you creepily at all.” “Not starin’, just appreciatin’ the view.” Steve must look confused because Bucky laughs again. “You’re kinda cute,” he says. “‘Specially when you blush.”

🎓Alkynes of Trouble | yammz | Explicit | 11,450 words | College | **Post Endgame Rec**

The author tagged this "enemies to friends to lovers" and "the softest of enemy-ships though," which, honestly, is absolutely perfect tagging for this incredibly sweet fic. It is soft. Everything that happens in this fic is very, very soft. Steve and Bucky are assigned to be lab partners! They spend all semester in this terribly and wonderfully cute slow burn! There's tutoring! There are coffee dates shop hangouts! There is cake! There is a Very Meaningful hug! It's all very, very charming and super adorable. Plus, this is a fic that works with one of my personal favorite tropes: someone slowly realizing that they were wrong about another person and falling for that person — hard — as they do. I'm always weak for that, and I love this fic's delightful — and, yes, very soft — take on it.

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His notebook was full of eraser marks, his lines uneven and confusing, running into each other when he made his structures too small for the amount of bonds between molecules. He could always see them in his mind, but drawing them out was hell for him, his hands just a little shaky. Steve didn’t seem to have that problem because Steve’s notebook…that shit was just about the prettiest art Bucky had ever seen. He couldn’t help himself from reaching out his fingers and running over the neat, perfect hexagons with their lines and perfect little letters for the attached elements. They looked straight out of a printed textbook. Steve didn’t move, the solid mass of him almost against Bucky’s side. “How long do these take you?” he asked. “Oh, I’m quick,” Steve supplied cheerfully. To prove his point, he drew a quick acetyl salicylic acid, copying its structure from the sloppy one on the board, where the lab’s flowchart was. Bucky was mesmerized, his form perfect and confident and tiny, so at odds with how huge Steve’s hands were. “See?” “Okay, well,” Bucky let out a laugh, “You can definitely write the lab report.”

🎓Lane Lines | sparkagrace @sparkagrace | Mature | 132,519 words | College | **Post-Engame Rec**

A fic I spent a weekend totally engrossed and lost in on first read and that, ever since, has always been sitting somewhere in my brain. I think something that really, really appeals to me about sports AUs is when they're used as a lens to translate some things Steve genuinely struggles with in canon — the ways he handles guilt, the ways he feels responsible for things and people, his loneliness, etc — into these incredibly real-feeling modern, actual world, contexts. This fic does that so unbelievably well. Steve isn't truly okay, at all, during most of this fic, and affects everything. I love that so much. I also love this fic's worldbuilding, with a childhood Steve and Bucky backstory, a college swim team friend group, the pressures of professional athlete life, Olympic sponsorships, world records, and in-verse media like fake tweets and news articles. (This fic is the first fic in an in-progress 'verse, all of which I would also recommend.)

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“I didn’t want to come,” Steve says, trying to be honest, “but I’m glad I did. It feels nice to clear the air. I think it’s the most fun I’ve had in a while actually.” Steve thinks maybe this has been the happiest he’s been in a long time. He doesn’t want to tell Bucky that or speak it out loud, but the knowledge that this is happiness, and that he truly feels lightness in his bones, thrills him and he wants to keep that feeling close to him as long as he can. “I’m glad you’re here now. Just you.” Bucky says. Steve doesn’t know how to respond to that so he takes another swig of the champagne. There’s bubbles in his stomach but he’s not sure if it’s from the champagne or Bucky’s words. “We’re really going to do this, aren’t we?” Bucky says. It takes Steve a second to understand what he’s referring to.

🎓Targeting | queenmab_scherzo | Explicit | 149,148 words | High school & College

I do not know if I will ever be over the way this fic manages to mirror canon so closely while being about high school and then college football. I feel as if that shouldn't work. And yet it does, and I love it. I also love the way, because this fic so closely mirrors canon, we get a lot of Steve refusing, just absolutely refusing to give up on Bucky. Or doubt Bucky. Or listen to anyone's objections or concerns about Bucky. There is a lot of Steve being determined to get real answers to things, and Steve being determined to make things right, and Steve being determined to not let Bucky take the blame/punishment for things, and Steve being determined to not let Bucky go. So you know, very much like canon. Except it's about football? It's so, so good.

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Bucky doesn't attack. He backs away instead, an immediate, heartbreaking reflex, crystallizing proof that Steve isn't dealing with a predator. It's inhuman, the raw metal of his eyes and his expression, his hollow features, the way he blinks slowly and deliberately. He just won a football game, for crying out loud, not just any football game, the Game of the Century, he beat the number two team in the country and he can't even crack a smile. There is James Barnes, but where is Bucky. Bucky used to smile through broken bones and blood in his teeth, where is that Bucky. Come back, what happened, come back to me. Heart thudding, Steve surges forward, thinking about 49-yard field goals. "At least take my phone number." For a long time, he doesn't think Bucky will respond, and when he does, it's on an exhale, an inaudible brushstroke on dry canvas: "Fine." "You—do you want to write it down or something?" "I'll remember." The noise of the crowd rises and falls.

🎓Okay, so he can play… (pretty's got nothing to do with it | Darter_blue @darter-blue | Explicit | 50,858 words | College | **Post-Endgame Rec**

I realized when I was pulling this list together that I actually probably should have included this fic back in June as part of my Pride recs post I didn't, obviously, and I'm a little annoyed at myself about it. But, that allows me to rec it now, and this is absolutely a college fic. So I guess that works out. Anyway, like I said when I talked about Lane Lines, I love when a sports AU also works as a lens to look at some of Steve's less-than-healthy ways of dealing with things. This fic, which is about college hockey, is another great example of that. There are a lot of things in this fic — many of them, but not all of them, related to Bucky — that Steve has told himself he Absolutely Cannot Do, and his journey of letting go of some of that over the course of this story is one I enjoyed so, so much. Like I said, I could've rec'd this one in June, so there's a lot centered on sexuality happening here. There are a lot of feelings and a lot of romance. Also, one of my spreadsheet notes in the tropes column for this one says, "GRAND GESTURES." So.

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Bucky doesn’t know what to do with those smiles. He doesn’t know where to keep them (because he so desperately wants to keep them) that they won't cloud him. That they won’t press into his stupid crush and spill it over into something more dangerous. The team dynamic is flowing, winding, warming into something so comfortable, it bleeds into their game, and it’s like they can’t lose. They win their next two home games, Bucky chasing down Steve’s scoring record and loving every second of it. The way Steve isn’t even mad about it. The way Steve nods at him in the locker room at the end of the games. Claps him on the shoulder now with the rest of the team… All of it leaves Bucky so wholly unprepared.

🎓Persued by a bear | Zenaidamacrouras1 @zenaidamacrouras1 | Explicit | 19,200 words | **Post-Endgame Rec**

So, they're slightly older in this fic than any other fic on this list. (Well, actually, maybe not? They're a bit older in Natasha Romonaoff's Dating Service, too.) Steve is a professor and Bucky is a PhD candidate. This is also the very most academic of all fics on this list, and it's a complete and total delight from start to finish. It's a Shakespeare conference! There are tweed jackets, and suspenders, and pickup lines using Shakespeare, and the cutest Steve POV voice. I'm always, always a huge fan of a fic that features what could have been, should have been, a one-night stand, but that turns into so much more — with some hiccups, but also a lot of shameless flirtation, along the way. This fic delivers that so incredibly well and is just such a fun read.

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“You’re good at what you do, too, James,” Steve says softly, looking up at Bucky through his lashes, and shit, he didn’t mean for this to get all sexy all of a sudden. Bucky’s just. Really sexy. “You should call me Bucky. If you want," Bucky says softly. "I think I do, Bucky," Steve says because. He does. And Bucky's at a completely different university, and he's obviously a full-on, real-deal grown-up. Maybe this is okay. "Watching you work and listening to you think after following your scholarly writing for so long was incredibly hot,” Bucky says in a rush. “I’m sure you get that all the time. God, now I sound like a groupie.” Steve suppresses a smile. “Believe it or not, I don’t really have groupies."

There are a few additional fics that could be classed college/university fics and that absolutely are on my rec spreadsheet/in my bookmarks, but that I didn't include here. These are almost all fics with a plot about driving home (from campus) for the holidays/car sharing/motel room sharing/etc. that I feel like are holiday fics more than college fics, and holiday fics will almost definitely be their own post. (I didn't realize I had more than one fic like that bookmarked. But apparently, I do.)

I do have an apocalypse/dystopias/etc rec post sitting in my drafts I'm stressing myself out about it. Probably unnecessarily. I swear it's coming soon. Maybe I'll also do something seasonal in October? I haven't thought about that yet, but it's completely possible.

Fic Rec Series

[lenny-thequeen1]

Forever Together Married! Leon X F!Reader

Leon and you have been married to eachother for 5 years but have been dating for 5 years prior, still going on missions together. The two unstoppable.

talk of romance, violence, gunfire, injured reader

6.4K words

You had never imagined that you would end up marrying the man who had once saved your life. But fate had a funny way of bringing people together, and you and Leon Kennedy were living proof of that.

As you sat next to Leon on the couch in your cozy living room, sipping hot cocoa, you couldn't help but feel grateful for the life you had built together. It had been almost five years since your wedding day. You and Leon had tied the knot in a small, intimate ceremony with only your closest friends and family in attendance. The sun had been shining bright that day, casting a golden glow on everything around you. You wore a stunning white gown that was low cut with lace on your arms, while Leon looked dashing in his black suit. It was a day filled with joy, laughter, and happy tears all captured in pictures that hung upon your walls inside your shared home.

After the ceremony, you had all celebrated with a lively reception filled with dancing, food, and drinks. You remembered the way Leon had twirled you around the dance floor, his eyes never leaving yours. How his hand was in the small of your back, dipping you down and planting kisses on your lips. It was a moment you would cherish forever.

"Remember that time in Spain?" Leon asked, a mischievous glint in his blue eyes. His voice snapping you out of your memories that were replaying.

You smiled, knowing exactly what he was talking about. "How could I forget? We fought our way through hordes of infected villagers and saved the world from a bioterrorism attack."

Leon's face lit up with a nostalgic grin as he leaned back into the couch, relishing in the memories of their harrowing mission in Spain. "Those villagers were relentless," he said, his voice laced with a hint of excitement. "And the way we took down that final boss? Epic." His laugh filled the air like a sweet summer song.

You couldn't help but laugh, remembering how Leon had managed to distract the monstrous creature while you took aim and delivered the final blow. "You were the perfect distraction," you said, winking at him. "I'm surprised you didn't manage to distract me also with that handsome face of yours."

Leon chuckled. "Well, it's not every day you get to fight alongside a beautiful and talented agent like yourself."

You felt a blush rising to your cheeks at his compliment, but you couldn't deny that it felt good to be appreciated by someone as skilled and experienced as Leon. Even if you had known him since Raccoon City, and had been together with him for 10 years.

As you snuggled closer to him, you felt a sense of contentment wash over you. You knew that with Leon by your side, you could face anything that life threw your way.

Suddenly, your peaceful moment was interrupted by the sound of your phone ringing. You groaned, not wanting to be pulled away from your cozy spot next to Leon.

"I'll get it," Leon said, getting up from the couch and grabbing your phone from the coffee table. Which still earned a soft whine as the cold air suddenly filled his spot beside you.

You watched as he answered the call, his face turning serious as he listened to the person on the other end.

"Okay, we'll be there," he said, hanging up the phone and turning to you. "Speaking of beautiful and talented agents," Leon said, his expression turning serious that sent your heart to drop down to your stomach, you always knew what that face he made meant. "We've got another mission to tackle. Chris needs our help."

You nodded, ready to jump into action. The thought of taking on another dangerous mission was both exhilarating and nerve-wracking, but with Leon by your side, you knew that you could handle anything.

Together, you gathered your gear and made your way to the door, ready to face whatever dangers lay ahead. But as you stepped outside, you couldn't help but feel a twinge of nervousness in the pit of your stomach. This mission would be a test of your skills, your strength, and your trust in each other.

But as Leon took your hand in his, squeezing it tightly, you felt a renewed sense of courage and determination. No matter what lay ahead, you knew that you and Leon could face it together.

As you stepped outside, the cool night air sending a shiver down your spine, Leon took your hand close to his mouth planting a kiss on top of it. "We'll always be in this together, (Y/N). No matter what happens."

You squeezed his hand back, feeling a sense of comfort and safety in his touch. "Forever and always, Leon."

And with that, you both set off into the night, ready to face whatever dangers lay ahead. Because as long as you had each other, you knew that you could conquer anything.

Chris had only called to ask for your help, and you trusted him enough to know that it was something serious. But it sent your mind reeling with thoughts. You both had an unspoken knowing of this could always be your last mission.

You and Leon hopped into your car and drove to the designated meeting spot. As you arrived, Chris filled you in on the details. It was a bioterrorism attack in a small town, and there were reports of mutated creatures causing chaos.

Without hesitation, you and Leon geared up and set off towards the town. As you arrived, you could already see the destruction that had been wrought. Buildings were on fire, and the streets were littered with debris with bodies hidden underneath.

The stench of death hung in the air, making it difficult to breathe. It was suffocating to you, just like how all the missions had done before. No matter how many similar missions you've worked, this was something you could never prepare for. You and Leon moved swiftly, surveying the area and looking for any survivors.

You spotted a woman, lying motionless on the ground. You rushed to her side, checking for any signs of life. Miraculously, she was still breathing.

As you knelt beside the woman, you gently placed two fingers on her neck to check for a pulse. Relief flooded through you as you felt a faint but steady beat. You turned to Leon, who was already grabbing medical supplies from his backpack.

"Leon, we need to stabilize her," you said, your voice urgent.

He nodded, his focus entirely on the task at hand. You and Leon quickly carried her to safety and gave her medical attention. Once in safety yo worked together, and quickly to administer first aid and stop any bleeding. As you tended to her wounds, you couldn't help but wonder how many others had been injured or killed in this attack. Your heart yearned for her in a way.

"Do you think she knows anything about what's happening here?" you asked, gesturing to the woman.

Leon looked up at you, his expression serious. "It's possible. We should ask her when she wakes up."

You nodded in agreement, knowing that any information could be crucial in stopping the bioterrorism attack. As you finished patching up the woman's wounds, she began to stir.

"Hey, it's okay. You're safe now," you said, placing a hand on her shoulder. Your wedding ring glistening in the light from the flames outside.

She looked up at you with bleary eyes, confusion etched on her face. "What happened? Where am I?"

"We found you in the middle of the chaos. Can you tell us anything about what's going on?" Leon asked, his tone gentle but firm.

The woman took a deep breath, wincing in pain. "I don't know much. They came in the middle of the night, and everything just went to hell. I heard screams and gunshots, and then…nothing. I don't know how long I was out for."

You and Leon exchanged a worried glance. It sounded like this attack had come out of nowhere, and there was no telling how far the damage had spread. But one thing was for sure – you both were determined to stop it, no matter what it took.

As you continued to move through the town, you encountered various mutated creatures. It was a gruesome sight, but you and Leon worked seamlessly together, taking down the creatures with ease.

Suddenly, you heard a loud explosion coming from a nearby building. You and Leon rushed towards it, guns drawn. As you entered the building, you saw a man in a lab coat frantically working at a computer.

"Stop what you're doing!" Leon shouted, pointing his gun at the man.

The man turned around, fear etched on his face. "I had to do it! They made me!"

As you and Leon approached the man, a sudden wave of pain shot through your side. You winced, feeling a sharp burning sensation spreading across your abdomen. You glanced down and saw blood seeping through your shirt, staining it a deep red.

"Leon," you gasped, your hand clutching your side as tight as you could get it to try and stop the bleeding. "I'm hit."

Leon immediately turned his attention towards you, his eyes widening in shock and concern, a glint of fear flashed inside the deepest part his blue eyes. "Oh my god, (Y/N)," he said, his voice trembling. "What happened?"

You shook your head, trying to keep your focus. "I don't know, it just… it just hurts."

Leon quickly guided you to the ground, propping you up against a nearby wall. He carefully lifted your shirt stopping just before your sports brs, revealing a deep gash on your side that was still bleeding profusely.

"We need to get you out of here," he said, his voice firm and determined. "Can you walk?"

You shook your head, feeling lightheaded and weak. "I don't think so, Leon. It hurts too much. Leon..I'm scared. I don't want to leave your side."

Leon's expression softened, his hand gently stroking your hair. "It's okay, (Y/N)," he said, his voice soothing. "I've got you. Just hang on, okay?" He knew he was scared also, he didn't want you to see it though.

He lifted you into his arms, cradling you close to his chest. You could feel his heart beating rapidly, his concern for you evident in his touch. As he carried you out of the building, you felt a sense of safety wash over you, knowing that Leon would do everything in his power to keep you safe.

Once outside, Leon laid you down on the ground and started examining your wound, applying pressure to stop the bleeding. He murmured words of encouragement, his hands steady as he worked to patch you up.

"You're going to be okay," he said, his voice firm and confident. "I won't let anything happen to you."

You looked up at him, your heart swelling with love and gratitude. "I know, Leon," you said, your voice barely above a whisper. "I trust you."

As you lay on the ground, the pain in your side was excruciating, and you felt the warmth of blood seeping out of the wound. You tried to focus on your breathing, but the sound of your racing heart was deafening. Leon's hands were steady and sure as he worked to stop the bleeding, his eyes fixed on the wound with unwavering concentration. Your eyes were squeezed shut. Leon's eyes were filling with tears as he worked, worried about your well being first and foremost. His vows of always protecting you playing loud and clear in his mind. The memories of how your smile was bright and full of love mixed with faith failing to provide him comfort as he watched how your breathing was shaking underneath his hands. Your blood spilling over his hands also.

"Stay with me," he urged, his voice laced with urgency. "I need you to stay with me."

You nodded, your vision blurring at the edges when you opened your eyes to look at your husband before you. You could feel the warmth of Leon's hand on your forehead as he tried to soothe you, but you could tell he was worried. You knew this was serious, but you had faith in Leon. He was always there for you, no matter what.

As the chaos of the bioterrorism attack continued around you, you couldn't help but feel grateful for Leon's steady presence. You trusted him implicitly, and you knew he would do everything in his power to keep you safe. Despite the danger, you felt a sense of peace wash over you as you lay there, your heart filled with love and gratitude for the man by your side.

Suddenly, you felt a sharp pain back in your side, and you winced in agony. Your cry out was piercing in Leon's ears no matter how you tried to muffle it. Leon's eyes widened as he saw the blood soaking through the bandage on your wound. He immediately sprang into action, pulling his first aid kit back out and working just as quickly to try and stop the bleeding.

"Stay with me, love," he said, his voice strained with worry. The knot in his throat refusing to leave. "You're going to be okay. I won't let anything happen to you."

You felt yourself slipping away again, the pain overwhelming and your vision blurring worse than before. But through it all, you could hear Leon's voice, his words a lifeline that kept you tethered to the world. You knew that he was doing everything in his power to save you, and that thought gave you strength.

As the chaos raged on around you, you felt Leon's arms around you, holding you close and keeping you safe. You could hear the sound of his heartbeat, strong and steady, and you knew that you would be okay as long as he was by your side.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, Leon's hands stilled, and he looked up at you with a look of relief. "You're going to be okay," he said, his voice filled with emotion. "I've stopped the bleeding. Just hold on a little longer, and we'll get out of here."

You nodded weakly, your eyes closing as you tried to conserve your energy. You knew that you were in good hands with Leon, and that he would do whatever it took to get you out of this alive.

Leon carefully applied pressure to your wound, his hands steady as he worked to stop the bleeding. With each passing second, the flow of blood slowed until it finally stopped altogether. You let out a sigh of relief as you felt the pressure on your wound ease, and you knew that you were in good hands with Leon.

The battle that followed was intense, with mutated creatures attacking from every angle. You and Leon fought side by side, taking down the creatures one by one. Despite the chaos around you, you felt a sense of calm wash over you as you fought alongside Leon, knowing that he had your back. Deep down you knew the wound on your side was an unpassable hurdle. It could make you a burden if it opened back up.

After some intense investigation and fighting, you discovered that a notorious bioterrorist organization was responsible for the attack. With your help, Chris and his team were able to dismantle the organization and prevent any further attacks. As the dust settled and the last of the creatures were defeated, you and Leon took a moment to catch your breath. The weight of what had just happened hit you both at the same time, and you looked at each other with a newfound respect and admiration. Before you knew it, Leon had pulled you close and planted his lips onto yours. All the worry he had finally lifting off his shoulders as he held you. Your arms reach up to wrap around his neck, your eyes spilling out tears as you pulled him closer to you. "Leon.." Your voice muffled against his lips. "I was so scared I was going to die." your voice breaks with a lump growing in your throat.

As you spoke, you could feel the warmth of Leon's arms around you, his grip tightening as he listened to your words. He pulled away slightly, looking into your eyes with a mixture of relief and love.

"I know, my love," he whispered, his voice tender and filled with emotion as he pressed his sweaty dirt littered forehead to your own. "I was scared too, but I couldn't let anything happen to you. You mean everything to me."

He leaned in and kissed you again, his lips gentle and reassuring. As he held you, you could feel the adrenaline slowly fading away, replaced by a sense of peace and safety that only Leon could provide.

"I'm so grateful you're okay," he murmured against your lips. "I don't know what I would do if I lost you."

You smiled at him, your heart filled with love and gratitude. In that moment, you knew that you and Leon had a bond that could never be broken. No matter what dangers lay ahead, you would face them together, knowing that you had each other's backs.

After the mission was over, and the bioterrorist organization was taken down, you and Leon returned home battered and bruised. You looked at each other, and in that moment, you knew that you would always have each other's backs. No matter how tough the mission, or how dangerous the situation, you were in this together. You both walk to the extraction site, Leon's hand on your uninjured side as the injured side was guarded by his body.

As you approached the extraction site, Leon pulled out his radio and signaled Chris to let him know that you were both safe and ready for extraction. "Chris, this is Leon. We're ready for pickup. The mission was a success, but we took some hits. We'll need medical attention when we get back." Chris responded quickly, assuring Leon that a medical team was on standby and would be waiting for you when you arrived back at base.

The helicopters blades were kicking up gusts of wind as it landed. Your hair which was once in a tight pony tail had fallen out and was blowing around. Leon's grip on you never loosened.

As the helicopter touched down, Leon helped you aboard, his eyes scanning the area for any signs of danger. Once inside, he made sure that you were secure and comfortable before taking a seat next to you. You could feel his hand on your shoulder, providing a steady reassurance that everything was going to be alright.

As you and Leon boarded the helicopter, Chris was waiting for you inside. He looked relieved to see that you were both alive and in one piece.

"Good job, both of you," he said, clapping Leon on the back. "I knew I could count on you two to get the job done."

Leon nodded, a small smile on his face. "We couldn't have done it without your team's support," he replied.

Chris shook his head. "Nah, it was all you guys. You took down that organization single-handedly."

You smiled weakly, still feeling the effects of the battle. But hearing Chris's praise gave you a small boost of energy and pride. You and Leon had fought hard, and it was good to know that their efforts hadn't gone unnoticed.

As the helicopter lifted off the ground and began to fly back to base, you leaned against Leon's shoulder feeling safe and protected in his presence. You could see the exhaustion on his face before you closed your eyes, feeling grateful for the support of your team and the love of your husband; but he never let go of your hand, holding onto it tightly as if to make sure that you were still there. You knew that you were lucky to have someone like Leon by your side, someone who would always be there to protect and care for you no matter what.

As you and Leon returned home, battered and bruised, you couldn't help but feel grateful for each other's presence. This mission had been tough, but you both knew that you would always have each other's backs, no matter what.

As you and Leon returned home, battered and bruised, you couldn't help but feel grateful for each other's presence. This mission had been tough, but you both knew that you would always have each other's backs, no matter what.

Once you arrived home, you and Leon headed straight for the shower. The grime and sweat from the mission washed away, along with some of the physical and emotional scars. You stood under the warm water, letting it soothe your aching muscles while Leon washed your hair for you giving you a shower of kisses as he focused on what his hands were doing. The tender touch of his fingers on your scalp made you feel safe and loved.

After the shower, you both collapsed onto the couch, exhausted but content. Leon wrapped his arms around you, pulling you close as you snuggled up against his chest. You felt his steady heartbeat and listened to the sound of his breath as you admired the man you married, feeling grateful for his love and protection.

As you lay there, your head resting on Leon's chest, you couldn't help but think about all that you had been through together. The countless missions, the near-death experiences, and the constant danger that came with your line of work. But through it all, Leon had been by your side, a constant source of strength and support.

You traced the lines of his chest with your fingers, feeling the rise and fall of his breathing. The sound of his heart beating was like a comforting rhythm, lulling you into a state of peacefulness. You closed your eyes, basking in the warmth of his embrace, feeling his arms tighten around you as he pressed a kiss to the top of your head.

As you drifted off to sleep, you knew that no matter what challenges lay ahead, you and Leon would face them together, as a team. You had been through too much to ever doubt the strength of your bond, and you knew that with his love and protection, you could conquer anything.

The morning light shined through the windows, waking you up from your peaceful slumber. You slowly opened your eyes and looked around at your home, taking in the familiar surroundings. It was a small but cozy house, with a spacious living room, a well-equipped kitchen, and a bedroom with a comfortable bed that you and Leon shared.

As you lay there, you couldn't help but smile at the memories that filled the space. The photos on the walls captured moments from your life together, from the first day you met to the latest mission you had just completed. The bookshelves were filled with your favorite books, and the comfortable sofa where you were lying had been the site of many lazy Sunday afternoons spent watching movies.

You could hear the sound of Leon making breakfast in the kitchen, and the smell of bacon and eggs filled the air. It was a comforting smell that reminded you of home, and you couldn't help but feel grateful for the life you and Leon had built together. You couldn't shake off the memories from the last mission. You gently reached to your side that had been stitched shut, the gauze rough underneath your finger tips.

As you got up from the couch, you made your way to the kitchen and hugged Leon from behind your chin resting between his shoulder blades, taking in the warmth of his body. He turned around and smiled at you, his eyes filled with love and affection.

"Good morning, beautiful," he said, planting a soft kiss on your lips. "I hope I didn't wake you."

"Good morning," you replied, feeling grateful for the simple moments that made your life together so special. "You didn't wake me up either." You softly smile and look at him.

His dirty blonde hair had been pushed back behind his ear as he was cooking. His soft lips had been curled in the most breath taking smile he always wore when you two were alone. You couldn't help but feel a surge of warmth in your chest as you gazed into his eyes. You watched as he turned back to the stove and continued cooking breakfast, humming a tune under his breath. You couldn't resist sneaking back up behind him and wrapping your arms around his waist, resting your head on his back.

"What are you making?" you asked, inhaling the delicious smells emanating from the stove.

"Just some pancakes and bacon," he replied, glancing over his shoulder at you. "I figured we could have a nice breakfast together. Especially after that mission. You deserve it."

You felt your heart swell with happiness at his words. Leon always knew how to make even the simplest moments feel special. You watched as he expertly flipped the pancakes, his movements so fluid and effortless. You couldn't help but admire him. "So do you, my amazing life saver." You stood up on your tip toes to plant a loving kiss onto his forehead.

As you and Leon cooked breakfast together, the conversation flowed effortlessly. You talked about the mission you had just completed, and how it felt to work together as a team. You also discussed your plans for the future, what you both wanted to do together.

As Leon cracked eggs into the pan, he teased you about your cooking skills, saying that he was the real chef in the house. You couldn't help but roll your eyes and laugh at his playful banter.

"Hey, I'll have you know I make a mean bowl of cereal," you joked back, playfully nudging his shoulder. "You should try it sometime." Your eyes glistened with joy as his laugh rung off the walls making your heart flutter like the first time you heard it.

Leon grinned and pulled you into a tight hug, "I love you, you know that right?"

You smiled up at him, "Of course I do. I love you too."

As he finished cooking, you both sat down at the table and dug into the food. The taste was amazing and you couldn't help but compliment Leon on his cooking skills. The conversation flowed easily between the two of you, with plenty of laughter and teasing. It was moments like these that made you grateful for the life you had built together.

After breakfast, you both cleaned up the kitchen together, joking and flirting as you did so. You couldn't help but feel like the luckiest person in the world, having found someone like Leon to share your life with. As you finished cleaning up the kitchen, Leon turned to you and asked, "What do you want to do today, beautiful? What exactly would you like?"

You smiled, knowing exactly what you wanted to do. "Let's go to the park," you said, excitedly. "It's such a beautiful day out, and I want to spend it with you."

Leon's face lit up, and he immediately began to get ready. You both changed into comfortable clothes and grabbed your sunglasses and sunscreen. Leon packed a picnic basket with your favorite snacks, and you made sure to bring a frisbee to play with.

As you made your way to the park, you held hands with Leon, enjoying the warmth of the sun on your skin and the sound of the birds singing. When you arrived, you found a quiet spot under a shady tree and laid out a blanket.

Leon opened the basket, revealing delicious sandwiches, fruit, and homemade cookies. You both ate and talked, enjoying each other's company and the beautiful scenery around you.

After the meal, you took out the frisbee and played for a while, laughing and chasing each other around. As the sun began to set, you lay down on the blanket, cuddling close to each other and watching the stars come out.

Leon's fingers traced lazy circles on your arm as you both sat in comfortable silence, basking in each other's company. The sun was beginning to set, casting a warm glow over the park.

As the sky turned from orange to pink to purple, you felt Leon's hand find yours. You turned to him, and he met your gaze with a soft smile. Without saying a word, he leaned in to kiss you, his lips gentle and tender.

The kiss was filled with all the love and tenderness that had built up between you over the years. It was a reminder of how lucky you were to have each other, and of the deep bond that held you together.

As the kiss came to an end, you both sat back, smiling at each other. The cool breeze of the summer air brushes past the barely open spot between you both. "I love you," Leon said softly, his eyes filled with warmth and affection.

"I love you too," you replied, feeling your heart swell with happiness. You knew that no matter what the future held, you and Leon would always have each other, and that was all that mattered.

As you packed up from your fun day at the park, you couldn't help but feel content and at peace. The warm glow of the street lamps created a cozy and inviting atmosphere as you walked hand in hand with Leon.

As you walked back home hand in hand, you felt grateful for the simple pleasures in life and for the person next to you who made them even more special. You took in the sights and sounds of the city, the distant sound of traffic and the occasional laugh of people walking by. It helped you forget the horrors you came back from. The city always left you in awe each time you came back home. You both shared stories and memories from the day, reliving the moments that made you laugh and smile.

As you reached your front door, Leon turned to you with a mischievous smile that made you giggle. "Wanna dance?" he asked, extending his hand to you.

You couldn't resist his playful charm, taking his hand and letting him lead you into a slow dance right there in the hallway. The world around you melted away as you swayed to the beat of a song that only you two could hear.

It was moments like these that made you grateful for Leon's love and companionship. The simple joy of dancing with him in the glow of the street lamps was a memory that you would cherish forever. Your smile never faded down. His smile growing wider as he takes in the way your hair falls over your shoulders, how your body always fit perfectly to his, how you could make him do anything you asked. You had him wrapped around your finger while you were wrapped around his. You two continued to dance as you made your way into your home. 

As you entered your home, you both were still swaying to the music in each others heads, unwilling to let the moment end. Leon wrapped his arms around you and whispered in your ear, "I love you so much, my darling."

You turned to face him, your eyes shining with love and affection. "I love you too, Leon. You make every moment so special," you replied, your voice filled with emotion. "I never want this feeling to fade." You murmur to him.

He leaned down and kissed you deeply, his hands cupping your face as he did so. You melted into his embrace, feeling the warmth of his body against yours. Your chest pressing against his as his hands hold your face as he deepens the kiss.

"I could dance with you forever," he said, pulling away slightly to look into your eyes.

You smiled, feeling grateful for his love and presence in your life. "Me too," you replied, wrapping your arms around his neck and kissing him again.

As you both pulled away, you couldn't help but feel a sense of contentment wash over you. You knew that no matter what life threw your way, you would always have each other to lean on. He twirled you around again and began looking at you with a sense of pride in his eyes. You giggle underneath his arm and spin, the soft light from the lamp on the coffee table casted a calming romantic glow over you. Making Leon's heart skip a beat.

Leon took your hand and led you to the couch, where he pulled you onto his lap. He wrapped his arms around you, holding you close as you snuggled into his chest. Your knees planted beside each of his thighs, feeling how muscular he was underneath you. You could feel the steady rhythm of his heartbeat and the rise and fall of his chest as he breathed.

"I love you so much," he whispered into your ear, his warm breath sending shivers down your spine.

"I love you too," you replied, nuzzling into his neck and inhaling his scent. It was addicting to you.

You both sat there in silence for a few moments, just enjoying each other's company. But eventually, the need for food and drink became too strong, and you both made your way to the kitchen to fix some snacks.

As you nibbled on some crackers and cheese, Leon told you about his plans for the weekend. You listened intently, smiling at his enthusiasm and excitement. He asked for your input, and you happily gave it, feeling grateful for the way he always valued your opinion.

The rest of the evening was spent cuddled up on the couch, watching your favorite show on Netflix and talking about anything and everything that came to mind.

"Did you see that plot twist coming?" Leon asked, turning to you with a grin. His voice hiding an excited chuckle that made you admire him more.

You shook your head, a smile playing on your lips. "No way, I was totally caught off guard!"

"I know, right? That's what makes this show so great," he replied, snuggling closer to you and wrapping his arm around your shoulder. "I'm glad you chose this show tonight." His words sound like a violin with how it played your heart.

You leaned into his embrace, feeling safe and content. "I'm so glad we decided to enjoy the day today," you said, turning your head to look up at him. "It felt refreshing.

"Me too," he said, leaning down to give you a kiss on the forehead. "I always enjoy spending time with you, no matter what we're doing."

You smiled, feeling your heart swell with love for him. "I feel the same way," you said, snuggling closer and resting your head on his chest.

As the show continued to play in the background, you both interlocked your lips together once more, his hand cradling the back of your neck as your hand runs down his toned chest.

The kiss deepened, both of you losing yourself in the sensation of being so close to each other. You broke the kiss, smiling up at Leon, and snuggled closer to him. He wrapped his arm around you, pulling you even closer.

"Thank you for being here with me," you said softly.

"Always, my love," he replied, his voice filled with warmth and affection.

You lay there for a while longer, content in each other's company. Eventually, you both got up to make a late dinner. You worked together seamlessly in the kitchen, Leon chopping vegetables while you cooked the pasta. The smell of the sauce simmering on the stove filled the room, making your stomach growl in anticipation.

As you sat down to eat, you both talked about your plans for the weekend. Leon suggested a hike in the nearby woods, and you eagerly agreed. You both loved spending time in nature and exploring new trails.

After dinner, you snuggled up on the couch again, this time with a book in hand. Leon had his arm around you, his thumb gently stroking the back of your hand as you read. It was moments like these that made you feel so grateful to have him in your life.

As the night wore on, you both began to feel sleepy. You got up to brush your teeth and change into your pajamas, and Leon followed suit. You climbed into bed, feeling the warmth of Leon's body against yours as he wrapped his arms around you.

The softness of the sheets embraced your skin as you sunk into the bed, feeling completely relaxed and at peace in Leon's embrace. You took a deep breath, feeling the weight of the day slowly lifting off your shoulders as you snuggled up closer to him.

"You're so warm," you said, nuzzling your head into his chest.

He chuckled, running his fingers through your hair. "You're not so bad yourself," he replied, his voice laced with affection.

You both laid there in silence for a few moments, simply enjoying each other's company and the comfort of being wrapped up in each other's arms.

"I love you," he said softly, his breath warm against your ear, his voice filled with tenderness.

You smiled, feeling your heart fill with warmth. "I love you too," you replied, feeling grateful for his love and presence in your life.

"Goodnight, my love," he whispered, pressing a kiss to your forehead. He kissed your forehead once more, his lips lingering against your skin for a moment before pulling away.

"Goodnight, baby," you replied, feeling so grateful for the simple joys of life that you shared with him. "I hope you sleep well." your voice trailed off as his snores slowly filled the comforting silence inside your bedroom. With his arms wrapped around you, you felt safe and loved, ready to drift off into a peaceful sleep. Your mind replays all of what you've done through out the day as your eyelids grew heavier. Leon's face never leaves your mind as you slowly drift off to sleep.

[valeriusxoxo]

A LOOK TELLS A THOUSAND WORDS

pairings: asra x reader, lucio x reader

content: gender-neutral reader, no pronouns specified, angst, supposed to take place in between the end of lucio's route and before his upright ending, asra was originally with reader before reader's death, not proofread

word count: 0.6k+

synopsis: when you look into lucio's eyes, you have the same glint in them that you had once given your former lover.

author's note: this was inspired by @lucent-blade's work! thank you for letting me take inspiration. :)

when you had successfully taken down the devil, petrifying him until who knows how long, you immediately went to lucio. you took him into a tight embrace, looking at him with a bright shine in your eyes. it was like sparks flew in the sky once you both took victory, and you never wanted that moment to end.

after defeating the devil, you and lucio became "wanderers". you took missions all over the world, traveling together. it was great, really; you two saw each other all the time, and you worked together.

lucio never really liked being count. he had to attend boring meetings and deal with political issues. all he wanted to do was fight and party! so, when you asked him if you wanted to travel with him and take bounties, he was ecstatic.

deciding to take a break for a week or two, lucio wanted to visit vesuvia again. it had been a year or so since you both started working together and since you last saw your friends.

it was exciting to come back again. so much had changed yet the city kept the same bright and wonderful atmosphere since you last were here.

you were at the castle library, reading a couple books while asra was searching for some. he already had a tall stack of books at his chair, but he insisted on getting more.

lucio was at the castle gardens, catching up with nadia. it was a peaceful day for you to sit and read, but you couldn't help looking out the window, just to admire your partner.

his blonde hair and his cute little outfit, with the brown leather straps, wrapped around his chest. he looked so adorable.

you didn't even realize asra calling for you, and you snapped back to reality when you saw asra snapping their fingers in front of your face.

"oh- yes, asra?" you chuckled softly. "sorry!"

"it's fine," asra replied. "i was just wondering what you thought about this book. you said you liked this one."

he held a large book in his hands, smirking.

"that's a nice book," you said, before looking back at the window.

asra raised an eyebrow and looked in the same direction before frowning. he immediately noticed lucio, and he didn't know why, but he felt his blood boil. it hurt, seeing you together with the man who took advantage of his parents and put them in the devil's realm for two decades, leaving the magician alone since his childhood.

they knew their parents were back, alive and well. they knew that their parents forgave lucio a long time ago, but they always held a grudge towards the ex-count. they don't like holding grudges, but when it came to him, they would be furious at him forever.

what hurt even more was the way you looked at him, like he was the only person in the world. asra felt alone after you left him, and the fact you left him for lucio hurt him even more.

asra stared at lucio with furrowed eyebrows and a vein nearly popping out their forehead, before walking away in silence.

he remembers when you first told him that you could see lucio. they were horrified. what if he hurt you? he knew it was unlikely, considering his condition at the time, but not impossible.

as much as they wouldn't want to admit it, they would rather lucio stay in between the alive and the dead than be with you.

asra opened the door to the library before shutting it, clenching their fists with pure rage. they took a deep breath and exhaled, trying to keep their cool as they roamed the hallways.

he stopped this habit a long time ago. or at least he tried to. but it was time for him to head back to nopal, to escape his lingering thoughts like he did when you lived with him.

[cometrose]

yap about uhh zhongli and azhdaha (please)

I believe I already talked about zhongli and azhdaha but everytime i reread the last lines of their dialogue together I feel so ill, its just like getting sucker punched

first there are theories that azhdaha could be the geo dragon sovereign and I mean its certainly possible. First he is described as the "Lord of the Vishaps" and he lashes at Morax for being an usurper which is the first time this word has been brought up within the main story itself. Plus Morax also struggled to seal him away during the fight showing immense strength so maybe?? I am leaning towards this theory but I have no idea really.

It would make zhongli and azhdaha's relationship 10x more interesting but a billion times more complex.

But that aside reading through the zhongli's second story quest, I think its interesting how Jiu (evil azhdaha) refers to zhongli as a traitor/betrayer this could refer to the fact that morax sided with humanity to stop him or it could refer the heavens and the authority of the archons.

anyway im still crying because morax sharing his power with azhdaha to stop his erosion is so sad but he can't stop it so he has to watch his consciousness and reason turn to nothing. I can't imagine its not only finding a new enemy but losing a friend.

Azhdaha also holding Morax is very high esteem is also super interesting. Apparently in the chinese text it signals that morax had azhdaha's respect or support in the sense that if azhdaha was the geo dragon sovereign he willingly allowed morax to use his power.

I could talk forever but as you go through act II azhdaha recites a poem "a star appears within the wild...a sun ascends as bright as...jade" LISTEN my number 1 theory for what zhongli's true form is, is that he is a star, just a fallen star for the heavens, so not only is this line super important but it also reflects how much meaning morax had to azhdaha. A blind dragon yearning to see the sun, morax embodied that sun is almost every way.

azhdaha uses kun jun to track down morax but also senses morax is no longer than geo archon, i wonder how he found him then- just the scent of the divinity?

"even without a god above, this remains a nation of men. I was once their god. I ought to be here to witness their rise and fall." ugh zhongli please dont say such things

"you were always the strongest among us, yet it would seem that even you have been eroded" see now im confused and upset. zhongli says he struggled to seal azhdaha away but azhdaha also refers to zhongli as the strongest amongst them. the truth seems as that both of them were very close in power with zhongli just peaking over him. When it comes to their fight in the chasm, it seems morax fought azdhaha alone and out of the chasm while 3 of his adepti prepared the seal in Nantianmen. (fun fact you can see the stone formations where morax "dragged" azhdaha out of the chasm)

BUT azhdaha also says that morax came to him not as an assassin so he was willingly sealed away. BUT then zhongli is like the "movements of the Earth Dragon can tremble the earth and shake the heavens. with your abilities even at my full strength i struggled to confront you, let alone seal you away." First zhongli refers to him as Earth Dragon as in a title so wink wink nudge nudge are you the sovereign azhdaha? then zhongli kind of emplies he wouldn't have been able to seal azhdaha had he not consented to it, but azhdaha also believes zhongli was still stronger than him. I guess for now we have to accept both truths.

Also im upset please dont say such things, like the fact that zhongli has eroded in his own way makes me sad.

"you may live forever, doomed to a lonely existence...yet even this is temporary" FUCK. Like this is also part of the reason I think zhongli is a star, because eternal life? loneliness? the sun shines brightly all by itself casting a shadow on everyone and burning whoever gets too close. zhongli is bright and beautiful but he ends up losing everyone within his orbit, like this is so awful but like the adepti, the archons, azhdaha, guizhong like everyone close to him is always dying. even though he lives amongst humanity now he is still going to watch all of them die. someone hold me!!! Azhdaha does say he will meet all his companions at the end, but that could be an eternity away from now.

Also after this zhongli is like my lifespan can't compare to yours, the life of an elemental being is longer than anything but wait a second, in xianyun's story line she mentions that adepti are pure elemental beings. so like is he or is he not an elemental being. If he isn't why is he called the prime of the adepti, if he is why does he state that he could not compare to the lifespan of an elemental being. then again morax could be non-elemental being that just ascended to the title of adepti.

But- kun jun states that if he were not an elemental being morax would've killed him a long time ago, so maybe it's less of the lifespan but more to do with a cycle of rebirth. In the sense you cannot truly kill an elemental being as they will simply revive or come back to life thousands of years later. who knows!

"that day in the chasm? did you hesitate?" "a heart of stone is a heart nonetheless" I don't even want to talk about it, to this day this is still the most homoerotic line in the entire game. i feel so ill, want to throw up.

I'm kind of curious when zhongli and azhdaha met, because azhdaha is like I was there with Liyue's founder, as in he was there when the harbor was founded 3,700 years ago and was sealed 1,000 years ago. BUT liyue was founded before the end of the archon war, hell it was founded at the climax of the war, so were zhongli and azhdaha already partners when zhongli became the geo archon? If so it could grant more meaning to the idea that azhdaha approved of zhongli as in he accepted morax taking his authority IF he was the geo dragon sovereign.

"you're leaving?" dont talk like that zhongli it makes you sound (and me feel) pitiful

See also zhongli is like “centuries have past since the day azhdaha attacked but the events remain crystal clear in my mind” so like i feel zhongli erodes in a different way than azhdaha i don't think his memories are just degrading away.

BACK to the power thing, zhongli says despite being the victor he cannot claim to be stronger than azhdaha, because in his heart he still retained good will, and although he wished to be sealed away, erosion made him forget this wish. SO azhdaha says morax was stronger but zhongli says azhdaha was stronger.

In this situation, zhongli could be referencing power of will. In the sense that even though zhongli won the physical fight, azhdaha was still "stronger" than him because, despite losing his memories, he still retained goodness in his heart. I will leave the power thing between the two as "ambiguous" just for my peace. But zhongli could also be saying that erosion made azhdaha "weak" in some way and if not for that he could not have bested him in battle.

Erosion talk makes me sad, zhongli describes his erosion as "people abandon and surrender the things the love to pursue the right path". And god it hurts, he loved azhdaha, truly! But to protect liyue zhongli had to turn his back on his companions. there are probably so many people zhongli loved that he couldn't protect or couldn't be with to protect liyue.

Which is why I don't think I can be too harsh on him for stepping down as archon. Not only is erosion more dangerous the stronger the being is, but for a god that has lived so selflessly for all these years I cannot blame him for wanting to cherish the things he personally loves for once. But even then he still loves liyue so much he wants to watch them grow for many years.

So uh yeah azhdaha zhongli hurts me soooo because it was never meant to be, but there are a lot of theories out there that could change the dynamic of their relationship so I am just not sure. But i do like them together I wish azhdaha would come back simply because it would make zhongli happy.

[mako-neexu]

(wakes up in cold sweat) head in hands.sobbing. its about love. its all about love in OC chapter 2 that haunts every little moment in the narrative. holding onto love despite such bleak moments, holding onto love even when faced with carnage, faced with its temptation for vengeance and blood. where your wroth shall burn all those within your sight. where you as well is it's firewood, and shall make use of your battered body and heart, burning you until your dying breath. holding onto love and those bright memories that has made you happy time and time again. holding onto those you love and telling them.

holding their hand for one last dance before the clock strikes midnight and say, "i'm here with you." simple words. honesty through and through. yet even with such simplicity, you feel that you cannot express them enough. its not enough. words arent enough to show much you cherish them. "you are not alone. we will fight together. i will not let you go through this alone without me. even if you hurt me, betray me, or even shun me, that doesnt change the fact that i love you." you hold their hand, a small squeeze to calm your beating heart, to their gaze that you've burned so much into your mind, never truly to forget even as your body itself fails you, as you feel the end draw near, "we've been through a lot together. from the moment we met until now, i'm going to stay by your side until the end." you say, as a shaky breath escapes your lips as you look at them in the eyes with clenched teeth. "you are not doing this alone you hear me? not now not ever."

as love and hate are simply two sides of the same coin. where one can't exist without the other. what you had in the beginning, what you lost forever along the way can't ever be changed. but still. by holding onto love. (accepting love back into your heart). you're still able to gain something. you're still able to hold onto something. you're still able to reach out and look up. and be comforted by a gentle, shining light. its about. love. love that continues to persist. that love is what started those flames and love as well will be the one to end them.

[sanjislillady]

☾ ʙᴀʙʏ, ᴡʜᴇʀᴇ ᴀʀᴇ ʏᴏᴜ ᴘᴛ.2 ☾

ft: ᴄʀᴀᴢʏ ᴘᴏꜱꜱᴇꜱꜱɪᴠᴇ! ʟᴜꜰꜰʏ x ꜰᴇᴍ! ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ

wc: 1.5k

ʟɪɴᴋ ᴛᴏ ᴘᴀʀᴛ ᴏɴᴇ

ʀᴇᴍᴇᴍʙᴇʀ, ɪᴛꜱ ᴏɴʟʏ ʜᴏᴛ ʙᴇᴄᴀᴜꜱᴇ ᴛʜᴇʏ ᴀʀᴇ ɴᴏᴛ ʀᴇᴀʟ.

ᴅᴏ ɴᴏᴛ ʀᴏᴍᴀɴᴛɪᴄɪᴢᴇ ᴀʙᴜꜱᴇ, ʏᴏᴜ ᴅᴇꜱᴇʀᴠᴇ ʙᴇᴛᴛᴇʀ ♥

ꜱᴏᴍᴇᴏɴᴇ ʀᴇQᴜᴇꜱᴛᴇᴅ ᴛʜɪꜱ, ꜱᴏ ɪꜰ ʏᴏᴜ ꜱᴇᴇ ᴛʜɪꜱ ɪ ʟᴏᴠᴇ ʏᴏᴜ ᴀɴᴅ ᴛʜᴀɴᴋ ʏᴏᴜ

| ɴꜱꜰᴡ |

You knew Luffy became protective, it didn't take much when he was around you all the time. Not that it bothered you, no. You love having him around, his loud bright soul keeps you warm and happy. His laugh is contagious, his hugs are addictive, Luffy is like a drug. And you were undeniably addicted to him, the way he flowed through your veins. Just his name, sparking electrons in your brain, chills up and down your body. He was the high that you need to last forever.

He knows you love him right? 

He knows you'd never leave him right?

Luffy couldn't find you for what felt like hours. Time feels fast yet slower than a snail. Where did you run off to? Why are you hiding from him? Luffy was frantic, why are you treating him like this? Why didn't you love him the way he loved you? Until he made it to the kitchen, his heart sank because he found you, standing there. Smile that made him blush, seeing the way the light from the sun danced through the porthole onto your skin, made you shine brighter than any angel. The way your tshirt was tight enough to reveal everything and nothing all at once. Luffy knowing exactly what was underneath it, how perfect your curves are, how incredibly wet you get just for him. Until he hears what you're laughing at, who you're laughing at.

Sanji.

He was right, you were leaving him. You didn't love him like he loved you. You betrayed him, you betrayed him just like Sanji did. Are you two together? Did Sanji really do more for you than he did? No, that's impossible, he does everything for you. 

Enough, he had enough.

“Let’s go.” was all Luffy muttered as he grabbed your wrist. Swiftly and quickly dragging you to your room. As soon as you both arrived, he kicked the door shut. Pushing you up against the back of the door, hands pinned above your head by just his one. 

“So, you don’t love me anymore huh pretty girl. Do you love Sanji now?” He spoke, a crazed look in his eyes, wicked smirk on his face but nothing you don't love about him. As you studied his face, the way his pupils were blown wide as he smirked down at you, growing the longer it took for your answer. 

“Use that pretty voice of yours, tell me if you fucking love me or if you love Sanji, baby come on dont keep me fucking waiting now.” He continued, his tone getting more aggressive, it made your core burn. The longer you remained silent, batting your glistening doe eyes, looking so breedable, innocent and sweet. Luffy was fighting every urge to not devour you right here and now, but no. He had to wait, he needed to wait. If you loved Sanji, you didnt deserve to get fucked like the pretty slut you are, right?

Right, Luffy released your arms grabbing your chin. Pulling you closer, lips barely touching. His eyes glaring into you, saying everything his mouth didn't need to. “Tell me you love me. Tell me you only love me. I won't ask again, pretty.” he spoke, impatiently. You knew he was at his limit, but that made it more fun. 

“Or.. what.” you spoke breathlessly, teasingly. He snapped, his lips feverishly on yours, there was no battle, he drove his tongue into your mouth. Dominance was not something you ever wanted, submitting to him was your role. Luffy had his grip on your thigh right below the cup of your ass. He gripped it tightly, eliciting a purr from your throat. Luffy’s other hand finds its place on your throat. Gripping ever so lightly, your mouth opening slightly, trying to drag air to your lungs that he was slowly taking out. His body was pushed so close to yours, you could feel him. You could feel his heavy pants as he eyed your entire body, watching the way your body, your mind, your soul craved him. The way your body submitted to him, exactly how his girl is supposed to act for him. 

Luffy opened his mouth ever so slightly, and with that a string of spit rolled down his wet lips, and into your mouth. The feeling of it hitting your tongue, closed the case. No more games, you needed him. The coil that has been winding up in your core, on the verge of snapping. The pull and fire inside is burning and raging to unleash.

“Yes Lu I love you, I love you baby yes.” you pleaded, struggling with air. He knew it, he knew you loved him. The way your face was begging to be ruined by him right now, the redness of your cheeks turning him more reckless. The way you tilted your head back when his thigh applied pressure to your throbbing cunt. The way you whimpered as he kissed his way up your chest,your neck,your jaw, your ear. Nipping, licking and marking all the way to tell you, 

“Good… now ride it.” he whispered, and on cue you started moving your perfectly like pussy on his thigh, just like he knew you would. Just like he knew you loved him by the way he could feel you clench around nothing on his thigh. The way your heart was beating in your chest, the way your body was listening to every single one of his commands. Just like his good little girl, right? He knew you loved him the way you gripped onto his shoulders, moving your clothed cunt against his thigh faster and faster. The way you dug your nails into his back, trying to find something to balance yourself. 

“Atta girl baby, keep going.” he whispered into your neck, listening to the whimpering moans you let out as you continued to ride his thigh as he praised you, whispering right into your ear.

“So good for me, you love me baby? Say it baby please say it." He knew you loved him the way you pleaded back how much you loved him, how much you needed him, how much you needed to cum, how much you wanted him to make you cum. You can only cum because of him right? No other man can make you feel this good right? 

He couldn't take it anymore, the way your body was shaking, pulsing, throbbing for him. He needed to be buried in you. He needed you to cum on his cock, not his thigh. He picked up your other leg, bringing you to the bed.

“Fuck.” was all he managed to get out as he took your pants off, spreading your thighs with his hips. Drunk off the way your cunt glistened, your cunt only glistens like that for him right? His mind spiraling, not knowing anything other than your cunt wrapped prettily around his throbbing cock. 

He rubbed the tip up and down the lips, the sounds you and your pussy made, had him wanting to cum on the spot, so beautiful and perfect. All for him right? The way he slowly let you swallow him whole. The way your walls gripped him, guiding him into the deepest parts of you. The way you moaned out back arching off the bed nails digging into his back as he bottomed out. The way he whispered

 “fuck you were made for me baby, so fucking good.” he moaned out threw gritted teeth, pounding into you. He knew you loved him by the way you wrapped your legs around his waist, crying out moans, while tears burned your cheeks, soaking into the sheets below. Begging to be bred by him, scratching his shoulder blades as he rutted his throbbing cock into you, hitting that spot that made your eyes cross, vision go white, on the brink of losing it all. 

He can see it in your eyes, hear it in your moans, hes fucked you dumb. He fucked you like his girl deserves to be fucked. Sanji would never fuck you like this, never treat your pussy the way she desires to be treated, they was she needs to treated. He hears you whimpering out mumbles, nothing making sense. 

“Baby, come back to me, my love, come on baby.” he spoke in your ear softly as he slowed his stroke, trying to bring you back from your boardline black out. As you mumbled back that you loved him, he couldn't take it anymore, he bottomed out for the final time. Emptying every drop of himself into your pussy, not pulling out. Keeping himself buried, just a little bit longer.

He caught his breathe as well as you, he kissed you forehead, “Sanji would never fuck you like me, never make you cum like I do, never love you like I do baby. Remember that, you are mine.” he spoke ending with a smirk and a chuckle. You where fucked dumb, agreeing to whatever he was saying. Truly whatever he said you agreed with, after all it was Luffy.  

You both love each other, right?

©𝟸𝟶𝟸𝟹 sᴀɴᴊɪsʟɪʟʟᴀᴅʏ ᴅᴏ ɴᴏᴛ ᴄᴏᴘʏ, ᴛʀᴀɴsʟᴀᴛᴇ, ᴇᴅɪᴛ, ʀᴇᴘᴏsᴛ  

[gabessquishytum]

Charro!Dream from Watercubeee's au is driving me insane. I can just picture Hob as a buckaroo under the Nevada skies working closely with Dream to herd these cows from the ranch to where they need to need to go. Hob, who doesn't speak a lick of Spanish, and Dream, who doesn't speak a word of English, secretly pine after each other but obvi can't tell the other how they feel. Which leads to a lot of eyefucking over the camp fire and them fighting over the cooking duties bc they both wanna care for the other. Until one hot afternoon where Dream has mostly abandoned his stuffy coat and Hob who's naked from the waist up stop by a watering hole for the cows and dip in to cool off and one thing leads to another.

Eventually, they settle in New Mexico and have a little ranch together

- 🤜

Ohhh I love this and of course I'm obsessed with everything @watercubebee ever does <3

Imo the language barrier has so much sexy potential. They can't talk, so their bodies have to do the talking instead... and the nights get so cold, it's only sensible to huddle up for warmth. Back to back at first, and then curled up together, practically on top of each other. Hob wants to tell Dream how big his feelings are, how he wants and desires nothing more than a life at his side forever. Dream, of course, wishes he could say exactly the same thing.

And of course they both have needs… Hob tries to be subtle when he has a quick wank under the blankets or behind a tree, but the whole time he’s thinking about Dream! And Dream meanwhile tries to deny himself, which only makes his need more pressing. That day in the water Dream turns bright red as he stares at Hob’s lovely furred chest. His neglected dick quickly perks up despite the cold water, and Hob… well, he can’t help but see. Their eyes meet over the shining water, and suddenly it doesn’t matter that they can’t speak to each other.

The cows get a far longer stop by the water than usual. Hob pulls Dream to the bank and they collapse into a heap of limbs and needy kisses, and he finally gets to hold Dream against him in the way he’s been thinking of since the very first night they worked together.

The first words he learns in Spanish are “te amo”. His accent is awful. But he learns.

[mxnkeydo]

doctor's orders ✧ a solangelo oneshot

✧ summary nico's only intention was to get a drink and take a break from the constant challenges of his life. little did he know that his world was about to be turned upside down by a blond-haired, blue-eyed doctor.

✧ genre fluff

✧ word count 1.85k

✧ warnings none

✧ A/N writing this was so fun!! it was inspired by a pinterest post i saw a month ago, and i knew it was made for solangelo. i hope ya'll like it, and happy belated birthday will! all credits go to @soia-jpg for the fan art on the banner. also, pls reblog, it would mean so much to me!! <3

✧ link to main masterlist

✧✧✧

Nico DiAngelo woke up in an impossibly white room.

It was rather unnerving; after all, his own bedroom at home was dark and shady with no light other than the sun’s merciful gaze, which also retreated into the horizon as dusk fell. So when his eyes opened to the bright walls surrounding him, he flinched and closed them immediately, groaning as the pain in his stomach finally sank in. Slowly, surely, his senses started coming back to him; the soft cloth on his body, the cold, still feeling of the air around him like time had ceased to exist, the strong scent of artificial fragrances with a bitter undertone. Gently patting down his torso, Nico soon realized his jacket was gone–the one his sister had gifted him on his tenth birthday–and his feet were bare. Lying here in the small rectangular room made him feel cold and restless, a feeling he didn’t like one bit.

Suddenly, like a bursting dam, memories flooded into his mind. They were completely out of order, but Nico managed to piece them together. 

“Did you push me?”

“What if I did?”

“Oh, you’re so gonna get it, goth boy.”

Every movie made bar fights seem cool and tough, but in reality they were just petty fistfights between drunk people. Nico mentally berated himself for being so stupid, responding so rashly to that tattooed man. He just wanted one drink, really, one drink to forget…everything. One drink to take his mind off of things. But the after-affects made him regret all of it. If he was sober, he wouldn’t have stumbled into the large, muscled man next to him, and he most certainly wouldn’t have a throbbing black eye.

The lesson of the night? Being high alone was better than being high in public, because that just meant trouble for everyone.

But all that regret rushed by him and anger washed over him like a waterfall. Gushing anger, like the rush of blood thrpugh his veins. Bubbling anger, like a scalding pot of boiling water. He didn’t even know why – maybe he was still slightly drunk – but envisioning the man who’d given him so many bruises made Nico want to punch him where the light didn’t shine.

So when he heard light footsteps approaching, he blurted, “Fight me.” The exact words he’d recklessly said to the drunk man before he’d generously given him not one injury, but four: two punches to the jaw, one black eye, and a blow to the abdomen. It sort of sounded like a restaurant order, Nico thought deliriously.

“I’m sorry?”

A slender figure appeared over him, frowning with his head tilted. His bushel of blond curls made Nico want to reach up and touch them, though he was too tired and too beaten up to do so. This person seemed to glow, like the sun’s rays impersonized. 

But the thing that really caught his attention was his eyes. They were the clearest blue he had ever seen, like a crystal clear lake. Nico couldn’t bring himself to look away.

“Fight me,” he repeated in a daze.

“Okay, I think you should get some more rest, uh..” The man looked down at the clipboard in his hand, furrowing his brows. “Nicholas. Can you get some rest for me?”

“It’s Nico,” Nico snapped on instinct. The name Nicholas was long gone, lost forever, buried beside his sister. No one ever called him that anymore, and he didn’t want anyone to call him that either. That name had been for Bianca to use, and for Bianca only.

“My apologies. Nico, we’re going to give you some pills and have you go to sleep so the pain doesn’t bother you as much. Okay?”

Nico did nothing but stare with his mouth hanging open, his head spinning so his thoughts jumbled and mixed with one another. An image of his sister flashed in his mind as the events of the night before played over and over in his head like a broken videotape.

The man placed a mask on his face, making everything in his line of sight go blurry and then fade into a black void. “Bianca..fight…me?” Nico mumbled, his head lolling to the side.

And yet again, the darkness grasped Nico in its deadly embrace.

***

Nico got used to the white walls. It was inevitable; after all, he was due to be there for a week, minimum. He no longer winced when the brightness flooded his eyelids, and the constant hum of the hospital would lull him to sleep every night. It was different, yes, but it became routine.

What also became routine was seeing the doctor, that blond man with the blue eyes that seemed to peer into his soul whenever he turned his gaze towards him. It sent electrical shocks through Nico’s body, though he had no clue why that happened. It just…did. He found himself watching his movements, catching his breath when his arm brushed against his skin, making him shiver pleasurably. It was a new feeling. Now, Nico didn’t like new things, but this? This was something he could get used to.

Nico remembered the first time he’d really talked to him, apart from the dazed mutterings on the first night he’d arrived. He turned red all over just thinking about it. Dr. Solace had been adjusting the machine beside him when he started making small talk.

“Quite the injuries you’ve got there, Nico.”

“Uh…”

“You were drunk, yes?”

“Oh. Yeah.”

Nico had bowed his head bashfully after his comment, completely sure that he was going to receive a talk about how alcohol was not at all healthy for the human body. Instead, Dr. Solace said with a soft chuckle,

“I found it amusing, if I’m being honest. You said some delirious stuff. “Fight me’, you kept repeating. What was that about?”

“Oh… I was just high, I guess. People do stupid stuff when they’re high.”

After a short pause, he’d continued,

“Did you respond?”

Dr. Solace had laughed then, and it was a sound Nico had never heard before. It was the sound of twinkling stars in the night sky. It was the sound of everything good and everything wonderful.

“No. But I wouldn’t fight you if you begged me on your knees. I know you’d win. I can tell.”

The best part (and the part that had Nico blushing furiously) was when he winked, his eyes glittering mischeviously as he exited the room. Every time that moment came to mind was a moment of sheer bliss. It was very unlike himself to be fond of someone after a few days of their company, but William Andrew Solace managed to wiggle his way into Nico’s heart. It was strange, but Nico welcomed it. Seeing that sun of a smile was an experience he’d never get tired of.

Apart from the doctor that came in regularly, life was hell. Hell as in everything hurt like hell. It did get better, but the uneasy feeling in his abdomen every time he woke up from a nap never faded. Nor did the pain he felt when he touched his black eye with a touch as light as a feather. 

It wasn’t the best, but Will (yes, they were on a first name basis) was a ray of sunshine. And sunshine made things better. Didn’t it?

***

“How’s the eye, Nico?”

Will smiled gently as he walked in, his white coat billowing out behind him. Nico abruptly looked up from the book he was reading (a story about a sixth grade demigod on a quest) and shut it closed, placing it on his nightstand. 

“It’s okay. Getting better.”

“The cold compress is helping, I assume?”

“Yeah.” Nico watched as he wrote something down on his notepad.

“The jaw is fine?”

“Yes, except for the occasional pain.”

“And the stomach bruise is healing, right?”

Nico went quiet.

“Right?”

With no warning, Will pulled the blanket draped over Nico’s thin figure down to his waist, gently lifting up the hospital gown he was wearing. Nico felt his face heat up as the doctor studied his stomach, exhaling deeply every now and then. His fingers brushed the expanse of his stomach, grazing over the purple bruise. Nico’s breath caught in his throat, and was only released when Will covered his torso with the blanket once again.

“Why didn’t you tell me about this? That’s a nasty one,” Will finally said with a grimace. “That’s gonna take time to get better. I didn’t think it was very serious at first, but–” He raked a hand through his unruly hair. “I’ll have a nurse bring you an ice pack and some ibuprofen, that should help. In the meantime, get some more sleep.”

“More sleep?” Nico repeated incredulously. All he’d been doing for the past few days was sleeping on and off. If he slept any more, he was sure he was going to go into a coma.

“Yes, more sleep,” Will emphasized.

“But–”

“Doctor’s orders.”

Nico suddenly realized Dr. Solace was closer than he’d ever been before. He could spot the sparkle in his eyes, the slight upturn of his lips. 

“Fine,” he sighed, breaking the moment. He slid down so he was completely on his back, pulling his thin blanket up to his chin. Will shut off the lights after writing something else on his notepad, standing at the doorway.

Although Nico protested against taking rest, he found his eyelids growing heavier by the second. His sight went blurry as he finally closed them, his chest rising and falling with even breaths.

And as he went to sleep, he swore he heard an angelic voice say,

“Sweet dreams, Nico.”

***

Will wasn’t there when he woke up the next day. Today was the last of Nico’s time at the hospital, which meant he was free to go whenever he wanted. But, just in case Dr. Solace made an appearance again, he stayed. Sitting up in bed, Nico picked up his book and gingerly opened it, processing the words slowly. ADHD made reading incredibly hard, but Nico put up with it. Books were his escape from reality, where he had no one to care for, and no one to care for him. In the fictional stories he read, he found friends; imaginary ones, but friends nevertheless.

He had just started reading the first sentence on the page (the protagonist was just about to jump off the Gateway Arch, apparently) when he noticed a sliver of green peeking out just above the last page. Cautiously, he flipped to the end of the novel. There, on the back cover, was a sticky note. Nico quickly scanned its contents, a grin growing on his face as he did so. His heartbeat kicked up rapidly as he read it over and over again, even though he already had the words etched into his mind. He memorized the look of Will’s handwriting as he gazed at the sticky note:

771 Victoria Street, Bert’s Coffee House

Fight me? Doctor’s orders. ;)

[dargoww]

hello everyone! i came with some ps4!peter parker x gn!reader hcs!

i put ps4!peter because he was the one i had in my mind while writing this, BUT:

the hcs are applicable for ANY spidey!

let's goo!!

pic credit goes to the rightful owners

peter is a very, very, very loving person

and he needs someone to be there for him

it's not like he needs for you to comfort him after every fight (sometimes he does need though)

but damn

cuddles are a must every day, every night

after an exhausting day of patroling, all he wants is just snuggle up closer to you

cause he feels peace

i have a feeling peter gets anxious super often

or overthinks things

he's learned to just deal with it over the years

but he simply can't resist how all of it goes away when you're around

especially when the two of you are alone

no one in your personal space

it's so soothing to him

like a sanctuary from his routine work

you two would make plans

like going traveling somewhere

cause peter really needs a break

your first trip together was so funny

you took many silly photos

one of them is now hanging on the wall in your living room

peter says it's his favourite because of how your eyes are filled with joy in this picture

and how his eyes

are locked on you

oh and there's also water splashes all around you

cause you know it was an amusement park

with some water slides

you two were soaked

but never stopped laughing

without any spare clothes, you just kept walking hoping it would dry

and it did

but like after two hours

exactly 15 minutes before your tickets expired

and your bus was leaving

you have such warm memories of that trip

cause it felt very special since it was your first one together

you were exploring, eating really weird food, walking around the same building for three times, asking for directions, getting lost, running to some bakery 2 minutes before the guide tour started, tripping over some stupid fences near a what-is-supposed-to-be-a-palace ('Dammit, who would put it here??')

and even though some of it was supposed to be annoying

it was the two of you

the two of you against all of it

together

that's what made it so important to you, so precious

you & peter still rewind these memories of that trip

even though you now have another ones

all it takes for you to bring a smile on each other's face is to mention that damned palace fence

it's in your memory forever

peter would take photos of you when you wouldn't notice

when your hair looks messy (it adds to the beauty)

when the sun shines on your skin – it's like a saint appeared before him

or maybe he would take domestic photos

like you cooking pasta

with such a bright, big smile after he told you some really cheesy pickup line

he just... appreciates you so much

every now and then he would look at you in awe

because he still doesn't believe how you could be his

when you two first met, he admired your beauty

but as you were getting closer and closer, peter found the way you think about things so amazing

the way your mind comes to things his would never come to

the way you talk, the way you put your words

he always reads between the lines though, somehow

it's unintentional

or maybe he's just seeing something he wants to see

but whenever you're telling him something, his mind would wander about how your choice of words is remarkable

in other words though, he would pay more attention to how you say things

instead of what you say exactly

he has a short attention span anyway

100% always late to everything

even if it's just a pizza night at your & peter's place (living with him is whole another topic)

he tries to make it on time

he really tries

and you know it so you never argue with him about it

but when you two do argue, it's usually not for long

well actually, it never lasts an hour

cause through time you & pete got to appreciate each other just for the way you are

because you know

some people matter to us no matter the fights we get into with them

or no matter the little mishaps that can occur

all of it is nothing compared to the person themselves

and this is why you never stay in fights for a long time

because most of the time they just don't mean anything

idk if its actually possible but i can almost see how your apartment would have a secret spider-man lair

you know for him to make stuff

because leaving it in the open isn't so safe

i can see you entering this little place of his

with some food because he obviously forgot to eat

he just rushed into the 'Lab' as he calls it after he came home

oh and he forgets to drink water, like, all the time

you bought him an annoying watch that would remind him to drink and eat

the voice of the robot watch lady is so bad

like it literally jumpscares

and... never does its thing, peter forgets about food and water a second after

but the watch got turned it off a 5 days after using

5 days because he just couldn't get rid of something you gifted to him

he felt bad to do that

so there was this evening when the two of you were having a dinner

and this thing would just jumpscare you

"HELLO, PETER. IT'S 8PM AND IT'S TIME FOR YOUR HOURLY WATER GLASS."

you spilled your drink

laughed a lot

and got rid of the watch

you regretted buying it... 50 dollars to the trash bin

but it was fun

speaking of fun btw

peter would choose the window to entry the apartment, like, 8 times out of 10

cause a) it's convenient

and cause b) it's dramatic

oh and c) he now has a tradition of showing up using weird roles

like the last time

he entered through the window with a pizza and asked

'hey, is this your pizza? you owe me 5.50"

and you would give him the 5.50

and guess what then?

he took the money and the pizza and swung to the rooftop of a nearby house

with an evil laugh

the laugh that was super, super fake and extremely funny

he was back in a minute though

with pizza, with money

and with a soft kiss just for you

he said it's 'special client treatment'

you didn't object

as a matter of fact, peter can be super naive

not in a stupid way, but in a the-world-is-still-a-good-place way

protect his naivety at all costs please

it makes his eyes shine with happiness

and this boy deserves some happiness

relationship with him is so, so comfortable...

except the times when he comes back home all bruised and bleeding

these are the hard days

but there are always hard days, right?

they do not outweigh the good days though

like your first trip

like that time when peter was the pizza guy

like that time when water from your cup slipped into his plate after you were jumpscared by the stupid watch you bought him

it's always the little things

in them, there is beauty

in them, there is...

love.

BONUS:

↑ the selfie he took on your phone and put it on your lockscreen. cause, you know... you're his. and he loves you dearly.