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monstersandmaw · 4 years

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Male vampire x male character - Part Three (nsfw)

Edit which I’m including in all my works after plagiarism and theft has taken place: I do not give my consent for my works to be used, copied, published, or posted anywhere. They are copyrighted and belong to me.

This is going to be a four-parter, folks! And here's 3866 words of Part Three for you. Angst ahoy, but you know me, ok, so trust me. Here we meet Alec's little brother, and you'll find out why Sebastien was so jumpy and weird about the Twayblade name.

Part One, Part Two

Alec’s ‘one night stand’ with Sebastien turned into a whole month of of ‘one-night-stands’, and culminated in Sebastien asking him to dinner the following weekend - a pattern which repeated itself every weekend after that.

Sure, the sex was probably the most incredible sex that Alec had ever experienced in his entire life, but what he came to enjoy even more was the time they spent over meals and cups of tea in the intervening time, talking about everything from history to politics to video games and books and everything else besides. Sebastien talked about literature a lot, and Alec sketched him and illustrated his conversations while he spoke.

“You could really make something of yourself with talent like that,” Sebastien had murmured once as Alec had doodled a quick rendition of the Victory of Samothrace on the back of a coffee shop receipt one afternoon in the park.

“Meh,” he shrugged without looking up. “I’d like to, but I’ve got a steady job now, you know? I’m not going to throw it all away just because some gallery might take my work and I might make something of a name for myself, you know?”

Sebastien sighed. “Talent is such an overused word, and great art is rarely based on raw talent alone, but with your dedication over the years, you’ve really honed what natural abilities you have into something exceptional, Alec. I think you should make a go of it at least.”

Alec had flushed, and Sebastien had been distracted by the rising colour his cheeks long enough to abandon that train of thought in favour of kissing him silly on a park bench, and Alec hadn’t much minded.

At an Iranian restaurant near Alec’s place one Friday, four weeks after Halloween, Sebastien leaned on his elbow and popped a fragrant and decadent zoolbia into his mouth, and Alec watched, oddly fixated by the way his fingers held the little fried treat. His eyes, dark and warm and inviting, blinked slowly and he offered Alec a slow-dawning smile that stole his breath.

“We should go to the museum again,” Alec he blurted, thinking back three days when they’d spent their lunchtime meandering around the Italian Renaissance gallery together.

“Mmm?” he asked, licking his fingers in a way that made Alec’s jeans tighten and his throat close.

“Yeah,” he croaked. “I mean, I know you’re not sick of me waxing endlessly about quattrocento art just yet…” he said, sipping his delicious cup of tea and trying not to choke on it as Sebastien’s ankle skimmed up his leg beneath the table.

“No,” Sebastien admitted. “You’re right. I’m not.”

With the bill paid by Sebastien this time, after Alec had bought them lunch the previous day, the two of them left the cosy warmth of the restaurant and stepped out into a bitter November night. “Oh fuck it’s cold,” Alec swore immediately, drawing up the collar of his coat.

“You want to head home?” Sebastien asked, a hand on the small of his back.

Unconsciously, Alec leaned into it and smiled up at him. They’d not yet been to Alec’s apartment, and he found himself more and more reluctant to let Sebastien in now that he’d seen the stunning penthouse that he called home. “If you’re sure? I think your wardrobe has more square footage than my entire place though…”

“Alec,” he purred, taking Alec’s hand in his and squeezing his fingers. “I —”

“—You’re freezing,” he commented, interrupting whatever Sebastien had been about to say.

“I don't tend to run hot,” he conceded, “But neither do I feel the cold much. I’d like to see your home, and you have nothing to be embarrassed about.”

He leaned in close and kissed the junction of Alec’s jaw and neck for a moment, his lips lingering, tongue just lapping at his skin and sending shivers down Alec’s whole body, shorting out his brain for a heartbeat or six. Sebastien raked his teeth over Alec’s pounding pulse point and he went still, frozen in a paroxysm of pleasure and, oddly, a strange thrill of fear he couldn’t quite place. Instead of pulling away when he recovered himself, however, he tilted his head further to one side, offering himself to Sebastien’s mouth, and the other man moaned decadently, deepening his attentions.

Sebastien’s hands found Alec’s belt and he tugged him sharply closer so that their hips met. Alec tried not to grind himself against Sebastien — they were still on a public street for goodness’ sake — but desire was washing through him in pulsing waves and it was becoming harder and harder to think rationally. That wasn’t the only thing that was becoming hard either, and he let out a harsh grunt before forcing himself to step back with a sheepish grin.

When he looked up at Sebastien, he found that the slightly taller man had frozen and was breathing hard, eyes closed, lips pursed together as though restraining himself from something.

“You ok?”

“Fine,” Sebastien hissed, still not opening his eyes.

Alec frowned. Sebastien looked like he was in pain of all things. “You sure? You look —”

“I’m fine!” he snapped through a clenched jaw. “Let’s go. You’re right. It is cold.”

The short walk to Alec’s apartment passed in tense silence, with Sebastien keeping his eyes locked downwards on the pavement, though he did deign to hold Alec’s hand. He couldn’t help wondering if perhaps he’d pushed things too far in public, given how proper Sebastien tended to be, but then again, Sebastien was the one who had deepened the gesture by practically mauling at his neck for three minutes straight back then.

Alec’s apartment building wasn’t fancy at all, and it certainly didn’t have a doorman, and once they’d stumbled in through the hallway with the busted light fitting in the ceiling, Alec smashed the elevator call button only to find it dull and non-responsive. “Damn,” he cursed. “Out of order again. Stairs?”

“If needs be,” Sebastien said with a gracious smile.

“This would never happen over at Buckingham Palace,” he quipped back, and Sebastien cracked a smile at Alec’s silly nickname for his apartment block.

“Exercise will shake all that dinner down,” he conceded.

Alec twitched his eyebrows in agreement and held the door open to the stairwell for him. As he passed by in the confined space, Sebastien stopped and leaned in, taking Alec’s jaw in his cool hands and kissing him gently, reverently, on the lips.

“I’m sorry,” he breathed. “I was rude back then.”

Alec shrugged, feeling awkward at the sheer, heartfelt tenderness in the gesture.

“I got carried away. It won’t happen again.”

“I like it when you’re rougher with me,” he smirked. “You should know that after a month of fucking me senseless.”

As if Alec’s words had hit him like a sledgehammer to the nuts, Sebastien rolled his eyes and grimaced, but he did laugh. “You do seem to like a firm hand, granted,” he said. “Let’s get upstairs shall we? Before I take you right here, and I’m not sure how sanitary this situation is…”

Alec needed no more encouragement, and he didn’t even get to give Sebastien the fleeting, one-minute tour of his tiny flat before the man was on him, kissing him blind and backing him into a wall hard enough to knock the wind from him. Sebastien came alive in moments like that, when he could kiss him and lavish attention on Alec, and the latter was not about to stop him.

It wasn’t long before Sebastien’s wandering lips found Alec’s neck again, and as Alec gasped, fists balled into Sebastien’s shirt collar, he felt the sharp prick of teeth quickly followed by the generous suck of a love bite in the making. His knees went weak and he nearly staggered as a huge rush of endorphins swam through his mind, leaving him limp and wobbly all over. Well, almost everywhere.

“I want you,” he gasped, and Sebastien lost no time in locating the tiny bedroom and tossing him onto the bed, stripping them both with startlingly attractive efficiency. Alec barely managed to yank a bottle of lube and a box of condoms from his top drawer before Sebastien was spreading his legs and laving his tongue up over the curve of his balls.

“Oh fuck me,” Alec exclaimed as Sebastien’s slick finger slid into him and he hissed at the intrusion. A moment later, he was lying with his head flung back into the pillows while Sebastien slid a second inside him and began to do just that with his fingers until Alec was finally ready — and more than desperate — for Sebastien’s cock.

Sebastien had a beautiful body, all lean, corded muscle and slender lines, and as he got more and more aroused, his deep olive skin seemed to glow almost supernaturally. He was perfection incarnate. Bernini couldn’t have carved him, even if he’d been given a lifetime to try. Alec was no Bernini but he’d still love to sculpt him.

Sebastien chuckled sweetly and crooked his finger, sending a jolt of searing pleasure through Alec so hard his vision whited out for a moment and his back arched. “I’m flattered,” Sebastien murmured, placing open-mouthed, messy kisses down Alec’s leg as he spontaneously bent that knee up.

“Shit, I said that out loud…” he laughed, still vague and giddy with the sensations sparking under his skin.

“Mmm,” he smiled, lowering his face to Alec’s inner thigh and kissing fervently all up his leg to the crease of his thigh and hips before smoothing his leg back down onto the bed. His breath fanned out across Alec’s sensitive skin and he quivered and bucked, causing Sebastien’s curled finger to brush his prostate again and he yelled.

“Please…”

Moments later, Sebastien entered him at last and stilled, allowing him to adjust to the new intrusion.

When he fucked him like this, Sebastien seemed to take on a new energy, becoming something almost more primal, and Alec lived for it. The expression on his face as he closed his eyes and simply enjoyed the heat of Alec’s body closing around him, taking him, drawing him in, was something he would never get used to, no matter how many times it happened. He was certain of it.

“You’re so tight,” Sebastien grunted, easily shifting Alec’s hips up a degree or two and adjusting his own angle so that he could thrust into his prostrate with every stroke.

Alec’s words failed him as immense pleasure ripped through him, building and building. “You’re gonna make me come if you keep that up,” he barely managed to grunt as Sebastien somehow picked up the pace and began to pound into him with renewed vigour. The man seemed utterly devoted to Alec’s pleasure, as if it was the only thing driving him.

With an utterly inhuman snarl, Sebastien opened his mouth and whispered, “Come for me.”

The sheer weight of command in his voice tore through Alec and he came instantly, untouched, painting his torso with ropes of his release and wrenching Sebastien’s own orgasm from him by sheer force a second after.

Sebastien curled forwards with a hiss, hips spasming as he released, and his lips found Alec’s neck again, and then his collarbone. In the daze of his own peak, Alec thought he saw a flash of red in Sebastien’s eyes again, but he was out of sight too quickly for him to believe what he’d seen. Instead, he found Sebastien kissing his hammering pulse while he finished. Finally going still, Sebastien slumped atop him, breathing hard, his white-blond hair spilling everywhere and tickling Alec’s stubble. He was too tired to care though.

When he woke, hours later, he realised groggily that it must be the middle of the night. Sebastien was curled up beside him, obviously having found the tiny bathroom to clean up, and he was now spread out beside him on his small, lumpy mattress as if this were a palace and he a prince, not some tiny, shitty apartment in the rough bit of town.

Something about the way Sebastien slept still freaked Alec the fuck out. He didn’t seem to be breathing, and when he had laid his palm on Sebastien’s chest on their first night together, the man had gasped and jolted awake like the living dead, sucking in air like he’d been underwater for hours. This time, he refrained from touching him, and instead stared at his inhuman beauty. There wasn’t a mark or scar or freckle on him, and his darkly tanned body spread out over the white sheets like a bronze sculpture arranged in a gallery for the adoration of thousands. And yet he chose Alec to be his only supplicant. Something lurched in his chest and he smiled bashfully, blushing, although there was no one to witness it.

Awake, Sebastien looked maybe thirty, thirty five years old, but asleep, he looked far younger; closer to eighteen or nineteen perhaps, with an innocence around his white-lashed eyes and the natural downward curl of his beautiful lips.

Unable to resist touching him completely, Alec kissed him and rolled over, drawing the duvet up around his ears and sinking back into a deep, dreamless sleep. His whole body felt heavy and satiated in a way he’d never experienced before with anyone. Something clenched in his heart; this felt right somehow.

But nothing is fated to last forever, is it?

Alec stirred groggily, unwillingly, the next morning, becoming aware of a rapid-fire knocking on the apartment door. Grunting, he kicked back the covers and fished for a pair of boxers and a shirt from the floor beside the bed. Sebastien slept on, apparently not having moved at all since the previous evening. Did he have sleep apnoea or something? It was something he’d have to bring up after he’d sorted whatever this was. It wasn’t natural for a man to sleep like that.

Like the dead.

“Alright, alright, I’m coming,” he grumbled, stumbling across the apartment and peering though the peephole in the door. Twitching back in surprise, he opened it. “Theo?”

His little brother’s bright, sunny grin beamed back at him. “Hey bro,” he chuckled jovially, stepping in as if he owned the place and shooting him a cheeky look back over his shoulder. “Brunch?”

“Brunch?” Alec frowned. “Since when do you do ‘brunch’? And since when is it brunchtime anyway?” He glanced at the clock in the kitchen and his eyebrows rose. It was well past eleven o’clock.

“Late night, I see,” Theo snickered, eyeing Sebastien’s shirt which was still on the floor outside the bedroom door, currently ajar from Alec’s hasty exit.

“Shut up.”

Theo’s grin doubled and his blue eyes glittered. Like Alec, he had the unusual combination of dark hair and blue eyes, and like Alec he could be described as ‘roguish’ at times. Now though, it bordered on downright Puckish. Looking not his actual twenty-one years but somewhere closer to sixteen, Theo shook his head.

“Brother mine, when will you —” he snorted but then stopped and his expression fell, shattering from playful to horrified in a heartbeat before he rapidly attempted to cover it by turning towards the bedroom. “Is he still here?” he whispered.

“Yeah, so keep the jokes to a minimum, would you?” Alec snarled. “What did you want anyway?”

But Theo had changed completely. Gone was the ebullient Labrador puppy and instead a tense, alert, wary young man stood before him.

“What the fuck’s wrong?” Alec hissed, heartbeat ticking faster like an over-wound clock.

And Theo spun and then froze as the door to the bedroom opened and Sebastien appeared on the threshold.

Theo’s lip curled into an ugly snarl and Sebastien regraded him steadily, apparently unfazed by the unexpected hostility.

“The younger Twayblade, I assume,” he said with such ice in his usually warm tone that it shook Alec into stunned silence. “Well, this is unexpected.”

“You’re shitting me,” Theo whispered, horror thickening his tone.

Alec blinked and looked from Sebastien to his little brother and back again. Never in all his years of dating men had he felt so uneasy around a family member. “What’s going on…?” he finally croaked.

“That’s what — who — you’re sleeping with?” Theo practically spat out.

Cold, defensive vitriol bubbled up inside him and he might actually have lunged for his brother had Sebastien not crossed the room in three rapid strides and laid a gentle hand on his forearm. “I take my leave,” he said quickly.

“Not so fast, fang-face,” Theo sneered and Sebastien froze. “Get away from my brother.”

“Or what?” Sebastien said in the quietest and steadiest of voices.

“What the fuck is going on!” Alec blurted into the tense silence that followed Sebastien’s taunt.

The other two blinked, and Sebastien sighed. He met Alec’s eye as he asked, “You really didn’t know at all, did you?”

“Know what?” Alec snapped, rage rolling through him. “Do you two know each other or something? What am I missing here?”

“I think this is a family matter that you need to work out between you,” Sebastien said, voice still tinged with frost. “Alec, you know where to reach me if you decide to continue what we’ve shared this past month.” And with that, he turned and walked from the apartment.

“Wait, stop!” Alec yelled after him, but he was gone down the stairwell and Theo was at his side, tugging him back into the apartment. “Fucking explain yourself!” he snapped, rounding on his brother.

“You’d… better sit down.”

“No. Tell me what’s going on. Right now.”

Theo stared him down, meeting blazing sapphire stare with blazing sapphire stare. “Sit. Down.”

The tone of his voice shocked Alec into doing exactly that, and he sank numbly down onto the saggy old couch in the living room without a word.

What followed next was like something from a movie.

“The Twayblades are an ancient family of monster hunters,” Theo said gently. “Father’s not in the military. Well, he is, but it’s not a normal unit or anything. That’s just a cover.”

“And mother?” he asked mechanically, the information-dump that Theo had just heaped upon him not sinking in, but floating like scum on the surface of his churning mind.

“She’s one too. And Ellie.”

“Ellie hunts… monsters?” he asked. “Like… what… the Boogeyman? Bigfoot?” Incredulity made his tone flippant, but something in the calm sincerity of his brother’s eyes told him it was true, no matter how stupid it sounded.

“Dracula…?” Theo added darkly.

“Dracula.” And then the penny dropped. “Wait. ‘Fang-face’. You’re saying you think my boyfriend is a vampire?”

Theo levelled him with a look from where he was leaning against the windowsill, arms folded over his chest in a manner eerily reminiscent of his big brother.

Now as Alec regarded him, he saw the harsh young man that this little kid had become. The puppy fat had melted into a steel jaw and a hard gaze, and his body seemed coiled for action at any moment. He had the body of a soldier, Alec realised with plunging horror. He knew Theo worked out — he was apparently a personal trainer and nutritional coach for celebrities in London, but even that seemed to have been a lie after what he’d just learned. Apparently the Twayblades actually hunted monsters — he and their parents and their older sister Ellie. Alec and Angie had been left out because they were apparently not ‘hunter material’ whatever that meant. Maybe it meant he was a monster fucker instead. He almost laughed.

“Theo, come on… I can’t believe any of this,” Alec said, leaning back into the sofa and pressing the heels of his palms to his aching eyeballs. All he’d wanted to do this morning was to wake up and maybe have Sebastien fuck him into the mattress a few times before breakfast until he was wrung out and softly buzzing like they had every weekend for the last month.

Now he was having some bizarre fairytale forced at him and he was supposed to believe it like it was some kind of sick joke. But he did believe it, and that was what scared him most of all. It wasn’t a joke. Theo showed him videos his father and he had captured on some of their ‘hunts’, exterminating a poltergeist here and eradicating a revenant there, and in the end Theo phoned their father on speaker, opening without preamble, “Dad, Alec’s dating a vampire.”

“Do you have proof?” was their father’s instant, chilling response. No ‘I'm sorry, what did you say, son?’ or ‘What’s all this nonsense?’. No. He went straight to the heart of it. With a stake.

“Just walked past the sucker leaving the flat.”

“Ancient?”

“No, thank goodness. Maybe just a century at most?”

“Can you eliminate him without alerting Alec?” their father asked, at which point Alec’s heart cracked.

He leapt to his feet and blurted, “Fucking what?”

After a heartbeat of silence, their father sighed. “Unfortunate. I had hoped to keep you and Angela out of this.”

“You’re telling me it’s all real?” he asked, goggling at Theo who held the phone out on speaker between them like it was a live grenade. “You’re all insane!”

“Tell me something, son,” his father said flatly. “Have his eyes ever flared red during a moment of passion? Does he seem to fixate on your neck? Do you find yourself willing to do as he wishes without question?”

Theo interjected quickly, “He’s not compelled. His eyes are clear.”

“Well, that’s something at least,” their father scoffed. “Theo, you know what you have to do. Kill it.”

“‘It’?” Alec shot, eyes bulging, and Theo did have the grace to cringe. “Kill it? You’re going to kill him? He’s a lecturer at the university, Theo. You can’t just fucking kill him?!”

“He might be under the guild rules…” Theo said. “He might be a blood bank user, not a live-feeder… I’ll look into it first.”

Alec’s knees turned to water but he kept himself upright through sheer force of will.

“Fine. But don’t hesitate. And don’t make concessions just because Alec might be compromised.”

Theo nodded and hung up without farewell. “Look, Alec,” he grimaced. “I’m… I’m sorry, ok? I didn’t come here to —”

“— to kill my boyfriend?” he growled, taking a step towards his little brother. To his credit, Theo did actually take half a step back in the face of Alec’s confused, hurt, betrayed ire, holding his hand palm-up.

“No. I came here to see if you wanted to grab lunch, but —”

“—Get out.”

“What?”

“Get out!” he roared, jabbing his index finger at the door and pulling out his phone.

Theo surprised him by nodding and leaving, shutting the door behind him with a click and leaving Alec standing in the centre of the living room, chest heaving, phone in hand, ears ringing.

As his brother’s footsteps disappeared down the stairwell, he unlocked his phone and dialled Sebastien’s number.

Three rings in, Sebastien answered.

“It it true?” Alec asked without preamble.

After a long inhale, Sebastien answered. “…Yes.”

Sorry for the cliffie!! More soon, but it’ll hit Patreon first, then Tumblr. Don’t let me forget, either!

Part Four

___

I really hope you folks enjoyed this one! Don’t forget to let me know if you did enjoy it by leaving a like and/or reblogging it!

#vampire #vampire boyfriend #exophilia #male vampire #male vampire x male human #male vampire x human #mlm #mlm exophilia

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yeochikin · 4 years

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sick days. | j. yunho

a/n: phew i finally did it! this is a sequel to this fic but this can also be read as its own too! i won’t lie, i had so much trouble writing this. the amount of times i typed then erased then typed over and over again was a huge struggle for me in the past week, so i understand if this fic seemed a little... blegh ;;;; writer’s block sucks but it’s alright, i enjoyed writing it anyway hehe hope you enjoyed this. do excuse any mistakes as this has not been proofread ✨💖

word count: 3k+

main focus: yunho x fem. reader

warning(s): none, i think!

“tell me i'm hot.”

“yeah, you're hot, yunho.”

“aye.”

“you have a fever.”

“aye?”

“say ‘aye’ one more time, and i’m gonna stab you with my paintbrush.”

“aye!”

your eye twitched at his answer, showing him the temperature you had taken for him. the boy in question, who was currently laid all tucked in bed with a wet cloth on his forehead, merely gave you a bright smile despite his face looking all flushed. sometimes, you wondered whether your roommate was literally a golden retriever in his past life who got reincarnated into a human, but still somehow having the energetic personality following his next life.

“little rose, you're gonna catch my fever too. i can take care of myself.” he protested, watching as you gathered the empty ceramic bowl that was previously filled with yunho's favourite soup, mentally thanking seonghwa in your head for the recipe he gave earlier, promptly placing it onto the wooden tray you left on his bedside drawer.

“pup, you know i have a stronger immune system between the two of us. i'll be fine.” you retorted, causing the sick boy to jut his lower lip out into a little sulky pout.

“you're lucky you're cute, pup.” you grumbled, moving the cloth away to feel at his forehead, the playful glare in your eyes melting into a soft gaze. you couldn’t stay mad at him, even if you tried. luckily, his skin wasn't burning as much as before, though the pinkness in his cheeks were still present.

everything seemed like a blur today. all he remembered was trying to get up from the bed but for some reason, yunho felt as if someone had dumped a huge pile of bricks on top of his body while someone kept hitting his head with a hammer. he was lucky that you came into his room to wake him up as soon as his best friend, mingi, called you up to ask where the peachy haired boy was since he couldn't reach him for some reason. that's when you know something was up.

of course, panic started to fill your entire being as soon as you saw how flushed his cheeks looked upon entering the room, along with him shivering underneath his blanket. you immediately went to his side as you phoned your other friends to tell them what was happening. it didn't take long for yunho to be dragged away from the bed by mingi, and jongho (mainly jongho) just so seonghwa could drive them to the doctor's, despite yunho mumbling that he's fine to which he was absolutely not fine at all.

you were thankful that it wasn't that serious, but nevertheless, yunho still received an earful of scolding from you for not taking care of himself more, as if seonghwa’s nagging wasn't enough.

so now here he is, laying still on the bed as his eyes blinked slowly before his lips lazily curled up into a grin towards you once he felt your palm resting against his forehead. the dazed look in his eyes was already a sign of the medicine he took earlier slowly kicking in. noticing how droopy his eyes were, you made sure the blankets were properly tucked on him.

“rest, pup. by the time you wake up, it will be when i wake you up for dinner so you can take your meds.” you hushed him, sitting down on the edge of his bed.

poor boy only grunted in response, finally giving up to force his eyes open, letting sleep take over him. you had decided to linger a little longer in the room, just until you were completely sure that the taller male was finally getting that much needed rest. sighing to yourself, your lithe fingers gingerly moved away some of the stray strands that managed to cover most of his eyes. your expression softens at the way his lips parted ever so slightly, chest heaving up and down in an even pace, adoring the way he looked so serene. with quick yet quiet movements so as to not wake the male up, you picked up the wooden tray, and crept up on your tiptoes towards the door.

you let your body drop onto the couch in your small living room, an arm over your forehead as your eyes stared up at the ceiling. the room was filled with silence that if someone were to drop a pin, it would have created a loud noise. the silence… it was almost a little too eerie for you. normally, it would have been filled with the sounds of you and yunho discussing your assignments as if one could give the other an inspiration to do so. it was when you turned your head to the coffee table that you saw something on the coffee table.

it was your sketchbook.

the object sitting idly on the table made you recall a particular conversation you had with yunho a couple of night’s ago.

“what are you up to, little rose?”

yunho’s voice effectively made you look up from your sketchbook, the page though seemingly empty, it was a tad crumpled from your many attempts of sketching, doodling, and the many amounts of erasing. the peachy haired boy made his way from the kitchen overlooking the living room to sit down right next to you with two mugs of what seems to be coffee in both hands, handing one of them to you.

sending him a defeated smile along with a low mumble of appreciation, carefully lifting the mug up to your lips to take a small sip of the drink. as if almost immediately, the bittersweet taste of the drink washed over your tastebuds, warmth being sent throughout your entire being. clearly, nothing can really beat coffee whenever you were in a stumped position.

“professor kim wanted us to draw something yesterday.” you finally answered, momentarily pausing to take another sip of the coffee, the boy next to you putting an arm on the couch behind your head while his other hand held onto his mug, listening to you intently.

“he mentioned that he wanted something that.. makes our chests swell with a warm feeling that you feel in your chest whenever you look at your own drawing?” you mumbled, furrowing your eyebrows as you set your gaze onto the blank sketchpad that was laid idly on your lap, lips pursing in deep thought.

“well, surely you must have felt the feeling before, don’t you?” yunho asked, reaching out to place his mug on top of the coffee table in front of where the two of you were seated at.

“i..” you started but somehow, the words died off in your throat.

you wanted to answer ‘yes, of course i have!’.

you wanted to say, ‘everything makes me feel that way too!’

but..

..you had come to the realisation that you had never felt such a feeling in your life before. but, wasn’t that the same thing as happiness? if that was the case, then everything would’ve been ‘a warm feeling’ to you.

yunho, who seemed to notice you being in your usual thinking bubble again, merely smiled to himself. from the couple of years being your roommate, and dare he say, your best friend, he had picked up all of your habits, and actions. from the way you would rub your nose due to being flustered, or how you would pick at your lips whenever you felt nervous - to which, he tried to make you stop by giving you a small keychain with a stress ball attached to it, fortunately making you squeeze it instead of picking your lips again - yunho could read you like an open book most of the time.

though of course, he would have to admit, it is when you seem predictable would be the time where you would be sprouting up something so.. unpredictable. the memory of you pulling a sudden all nighter because of a sudden inspiration from watching a movie would always make you look so endearing in the male’s eyes. it was when your eyes meeting his own was what made yunho flinch ever so slightly in his seat out of surprise.

“tell me, pup. have you ever felt such a feeling before?” you asked, curiosity evident in your bright eyes.

your question was to be expected, making yunho’s features soften at you. folding his arms in front of his chest, his back leaned further into the couch as he hummed underneath his breath in thought. the happiness that managed to make him freeze in place, huh? it took him a moment, but eventually, he nodded his head.

“i have, little rose.” he responded.

“and what was it, if you don’t mind sharing.” you inquired, shifting in your place to sit criss-cross as you turned to face the male next to you.

yunho could only stare at your face, slightly caught off guard upon hearing your sudden interest. he couldn’t help but to release an amused laugh at the way you leaned in ever so slightly, reaching a hand out to playfully ruffle your hair.

“it may sound a little ridiculous. but it was when you threw that birthday party for me last year.” he mentioned, only to feel an amused chortle threatening to leave his lips upon seeing the confused look painted over your face, as if waiting for the peachy haired boy to explain what he meant.

“you baked a cake for me, no?” the corners of his lips quirked up as soon as realisation seemed to hit you. you did bake a cake for him. but really, it wasn’t that special so made him pick that certain day of all days? before you could even ask, however, yunho already beat you to it by giving out his own answer.

“no one has ever baked a cake for me before, it was either bought from our local bakery in town or none at all. but something about a homemade one.. you can feel the effort and so much love from someone who had taken their time in doing so.” yunho trailed off, eyes somehow shining with an unknown sparkle in them as soon as they landed on your own.

“and i have you to thank for, little rose.” he continued, fingers gingerly curling the stray strand of hair behind your ear.

you swear you could feel your heart increase its pace, feeling as if it was about to burst out of your chest. your cheeks felt warm due to the feeling of your blood rushing up to them, a hand quickly reaching up to rub your nose before tearing your gaze away from yunho’s warm one.

you didn’t need any more explanation. you had found your inspiration.

a fond smile curled itself over your tiers at the memory before deciding to stand up as you made your way to your room, grabbing the sketchbook with you along the way. you have a drawing to finish.

❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀

a small creak from a door being opened resonated throughout the small hallway of the house, along with heavy footsteps, and the sound of a deep yawn mingled in the air. yunho rubbed his eyes as he made his way into the living room. his eyes were still heavy with traces of sleep lingered in them before looking over to the wall clock idly hanging on the wall, wanting to know how many hours had passed after he fell asleep earlier. judging by how dark it was outside, it was already night time, or maybe even midnight. with how long he slept, it was possible he slept the whole day away.

although slowly, yunho was thankful that the medicine seemed to make him recover considering how his head wasn’t throbbing painfully like before, though he still felt a little heavy but it wasn’t as bad as earlier. he could get up on his own, and that’s already enough for the tall male.

“y/n?” the peachy haired boy called out, wandering around the house in search for you.

it was when he reached the door to your room that he noticed the door was slightly ajar, along with a faint sound of what seemed like a song playing coming from the inside as well. his knuckles, gently knocked against the wooden surface before gently pushing the door a tad wider, just enough for yunho to peek in.

and there you were. all hunched over your desk with your head on top of your folded arms, seeming to have fallen asleep with whatever you were doing earlier. as much as yunho wanted you to let you have you rest after busying yourself by helping him earlier during the day, he didn’t want you to have a sore neck and back due to the position you were in. he knew how much you would complain about the pain in the two regions afterwards but then doing it again, it was a never ending cycle that yunho was amused to see from the years of living with you.

walking over to the desk with an intention of wanting to wake you up so you could properly lie down, the male noticed something right next to your head. it was your sketchbook. he walked up behind you, looking down at your sleeping figure. with how your pencil was loosely being held in between your dainty fingers along with a couple of crumpled up papers, mixed in with the other pencils in a variety of colours you had strewn all over the surface of your desk, yunho had made the conclusion that you were working on the assignment you had told him a couple of days ago.

he was glad to know that you were finally getting started on it, knowing how much you would procrastinate until things were a little too late for you to do. but with how you managed to finish everything right on time despite having such little time left, would never cease to amaze him every time.

with slow movements (clearly not wanting you to wake up all surprised and accidentally smack him in the face), yunho leaned over you to clear up your desk from all the clutter and coloured pencils around you, only then having a clear view of what you had drawn onto the sketchbook which caused his eyes to widen ever so slightly at the sight, pausing in his ministrations.

his gaze was set on two drawn figures in what seems to be a bedroom, standing side by side with their faces facing each other, joyful smiles painted over their features, each having a paintbrush in hand. it looked like the two of them were enjoying their time together. but what had caught yunho’s eyes was one of the figures having the similar shade of peach as his hair colour, mirroring yunho’s own hair colour. it was when he saw the familiar details on the walls of the drawing that the peachy haired male noticed what, or rather, who the two figures were in the sketchbook.

“yunho?” a soft voice called out, grogginess laced in their tone as they spoke up which made the tall male flinch ever so slightly in place as he tore his gaze away from the drawing down to you.

from his mind, he had already answered you calling out his name but in reality, he was staring down at your face. tilting your head up, eyes half-lidded from the sleepiness still apparent in your irises. it was when you looked down that you might have caught the gist of whatever has made him speechless. emitting a gasp out of realisation, your hands quickly covered the drawing, whining at him.

“y-you weren’t supposed to see that. i wasn’t d-”

“tell me, little rose. what do you see in me?” was his sudden question, effectively making your words die down in your throat. gulping thickly, your heartbeat was suddenly too loud in your ears. finally having the courage, your lips parted to answer the male’s question.

“i have found comfort in you.” you whispered, yunho’s eyes staring into your own nervous ones.

“i have found happiness whenever we spend time together.” you noted the way your faces were mere centimetres apart from each other.

“i have found the.. the warmth that made me feel at home.” his hands reached out for your hands, holding them in his much larger ones, feeling the pad of his thumbs caressing your knuckles.

“i have.. found myself falling for..” you murmured, yunho resting his forehead on top of your own, both of your eyes fluttering shut, and your noses touching against each other.

“i have found myself falling for you.”

you were scared to open your eyes. you were scared that if you did, everything would have taken a completely different turn. you were scared that you would ruin the friendship the both of you have built together. you were scared to see the disgusted look on yunho’s face after the little confession.

you were scared to lose yunho.

however, those thoughts were completely thrown out of the window upon hearing the words being uttered by the male looming above you.

“little rose, can i kiss you?”

the question kept repeating itself in your mind. you wanted to say yes, you wanted to throw your arms around his neck, you wanted to scream out in relief. yet, not even a whisper came out. not trusting your voice, and the choice of words, you merely gave him a nod. to yunho, that was already enough for him. without wasting any more time, the taller male leaned in to press his lips against your own. yunho wasn’t sure if his fever was coming back or it was due to his heart pumping so fast that blood rushed to both of his cheeks. he wasn’t sure, but his face was undeniably warm.

your smaller hand released one of the male’s bigger ones, reaching up to rest itself against his cheek while your lips moved against his own in sync. everything around you felt muted, the only thing you could hear was the beating of your heart like some type of drum. you never knew that a simple action could make you crave for more, but of course, the need for air was already screaming in the both of your minds that made you pull away from each other, albeit reluctantly.

yunho could faintly taste the sweetness that lingered over his lips as his eyes stared into yours in silence, his hand squeezing yours, before a gentle smile spread itself over his brims, you finding it contagious as you can’t help but to show him your own smile in return. deep down, he wanted to kiss you again, seemingly longing to feel them on his lips once again. so, he did just that. much to your surprise, of course you weren’t complaining.

you would be lying if you denied any more of his kisses.

once the both of you pulled away for the second time, one specific thing popped into your mind, eyes widening in realisation which caused yunho to tilt his head ever so slightly to the side in question.

“if you get me sick, i swear.”

“hey, you said you have a strong immune system!”

“jeong yunho!”

251 notes · View notes

xfandomwritingsx · 3 years

Text

Hold Your Breath – Chapter Five: Helping Hands - Draco Malfoy

-gif source unknown-

Description: After decisions put you on opposite side of the war, returning to Hogwarts to finish your education proves to be challenging. Maybe closure isn’t the only thing you need from Draco.

Approx. Word Count:

A/N: Well…hello. Yes I’m still alive and working on this story. I had a hell of a time writing this chapter for no reason at all. Hopefully now that I’ve bitten the bullet and gotten it out of the way, I can get everything flowing more smoothly again.

Story Masterpost

December 1998

You arrive to Potions just a little before everyone else. The air around Hogwarts is brisk and chilled, just how you’ve grown accustom to enjoying, so you’d woken earlier than usual to take a walk around the grounds before your first class.

You take a seat at a middle table on the far side of the room. You’ve started to avoid the back rows as it feels too much like hiding but you don’t like being front and center in lessons, so you’ve found a comfort in middle and off to the side. Unpacking your bag, you take a look at the lesson board that Slughorn is still currently prepping.

The room slowly fills with more students, a slight bustle of movement and conversation coming with it. You keep your focus on the board, already pulling out a quill to jot down notes and pulling out your lesson book to flip to the correct page.

When the chair next to you is pulled from the table, you assume without looking up that someone is taking it to make a seat at another table. It’s not until there’s a body in the chair and the person is shuffling through their bag that you realize someone actually chose to sit beside you. Your confusion at this only rises when you turn your head to see the person is Draco. He doesn’t look at you or acknowledge you in any way, but you still feel a little pull in your chest as you watch him.

Then you cast your eyes around the classroom. There are still plenty of open seats which clearly means he’s purposefully chosen to sit next to you. Your heart beats a little faster and you find that pull in your chest to be a slight fear. Is anyone watching you? Do they notice him sitting here? Do they think you’re friends again?

You give a small shake to your head and face front again. What does it matter if anyone thinks you’re friends? Besides, you’re clearly not friends when there’s no greetings exchanged, right? You’re not friends.

Draco remains silent and unbothered by you when the lesson begins. Slughorn’s lecture at least takes your focus off of him and the rest of the students as you concentrate. It doesn’t take long for you to immerse yourself in the lesson and nearly forget about Draco’s presence entirely.

You’re jotting down notes, shifting your glance between your parchment and the blackboard. It’s nearly twenty minutes into the lecture when you notice words appearing on the margins of your page that you haven’t written.

Notice he said three sprigs and the book says two? Trust the book.

You recognize the handwriting immediately and you can’t help the way your head snaps to look at Draco who is still ignoring you entirely. He’s stoic enough that you second guess yourself. Maybe you’re imagining things? Curious and apprehensive, you look back to your notes. The extra bit of advice is still there, permanently inked into the parchment. You run your finger over it briefly and you’re sure it’s his.

It’s been over a year, but you still recognize it easily. Written notes had always been how you two had chosen to communicate when you were friends. You used to have books filled with notes exchanged between the two of you. Everything from jokes to flirtations to helpful tips for classes. You’re lost in thoughts and memories when more words start to fill in beneath the pads of your fingers.

Focus. He writes. No wonder you’re dreadful with potions. You’re not sure if it’s meant playfully or as a sharp jab. You used to be able to literally read his tone, but now you’re unsure and out of sync with him. It gives you a sinking feeling somewhere in your belly.

This time when you look at him from the corner of your eye, he looks back at you. He gives you a pointed look, baffled by your eyes on him. With a sharp, but subtle tilt of his head and raise of his brow, he indicates to you to face forward and listen to Slughorn’s droning. You straighten your back, clear your throat quietly, and refocus on the lesson.

Draco continues to help you throughout the lesson. He does it mostly silently through notes and small gestures, rarely actually speaking to you. The lack of spoken words makes it feel secretive, though you don’t truly believe you are meant to be hiding your interactions. It also makes it feel more personal. Understanding his directions and critiques without the use of words only serves to remind you how connected you still are with him.

He does things as small as raise an eyebrow or tap his finger onto the table and you understand exactly what he’s telling you. As he gives a stir to his cauldron, you wonder if anyone else can read him like you do. It’s not like he doesn’t have friends. You have to assume someone has picked up on his habits and behaviors.

You don’t like the way your stomach curls at the thought.

The feeling tightens and turns to a pleasurable heat as his knee knocks seemingly casually into yours beneath the table. It’s not subtle or soft and judging by the way he ignores the contact, you assume it’s an accident. But then you notice his knee barely moves away. It drifts just enough to no longer be touching you, but you can feel the edges of your pants brush against each other and it’s enough to leave you wondering if he did anything by accident.

The lesson ends just as quickly as it started, your mind having constantly run off on its own. With a swish of his wand, both his and your cauldrons are emptied as everyone around you starts to gather their things. You look once more to Draco and find him still avoiding your eyes, instead shuffling around his bag. You stand to leave, ready to go back to your room and study and try to forget about anything Draco Malfoy related.

Before you can even sweep your bag onto your shoulder, there’s a pale hand sliding a star chart across the table towards you. Surprised, you raise an eyebrow at Draco. He taps his fingers on the chart.

“I need this back by tomorrow,” he says. “Will you have enough time?” It’s not the most polite way to ask you to review his work and you have to bite your tongue to refrain from snapping back at him with a smart remark. He releases the chart and waits for your reply.

“I’ll see you tomorrow, Draco,” is all you give him before rolling the chart up and putting it gently in your bag. You turn away to leave before he can say anything more, but you could swear there’s a slight upwards tilt in his lips.

~~~

The common room is dark and empty by the time you finish your work and pull Draco’s star chart from your bag. You had completed your assignments slower than usual, finding yourself purposefully waiting for everyone to disperse before you took it out. You choose not to examine the reasons that may be for. Maybe some other time. But not now.

His chart is almost accurate, an improvement from the last time you saw him draw one. Every time he used to bring one to you, it was always wrong. Stars were in the completely wrong quadrants. Sometimes he even had stars from the wrong hemisphere depicted. You wonder if without your aid in the subject, he’s actually started researching and learning. Either that or he found someone else to copy off of. Either is possible, you suppose.

As you mark some corrections with a colored quill, you admire his work. Draco may have been dreadful with accuracy, but his charts were always so elegant and that, you notice, hasn’t changed. His lines are graceful and effortless, varying in thickness from pressure on his quill as he no doubt flicked his wrist without thought or care. Your fingers trace the dried ink and a smile tilts at your mouth.

His natural artistry is not something too many people know about Draco. What he would call the equivalent of children’s stick figures, you’d call works of art. He used to doodle little images on his work, on your notes, even on your hand once or twice and you were always mesmerized by them.

Your fingers drift down from the dark quill strokes to a small blank corner of the parchment. The little white space of nothing gives you a little pang of nostalgia. You used to conceal little messages to each other, often on homework, that the other could reveal whenever they wanted. Occasionally, Draco would draw you a small image in the corner of the paper and while you always knew they were your favorite to reveal, you hadn’t realized how much you missed them until just now. Just another thing to add to your list of emotions when it comes to him.

You sigh and refocus on correcting his work, but when you’ve finished and his chart is filled with little bits of your handwriting to explain what you’d done, your eyes fall back to the still empty corner of the page. You look over your shoulder briefly, making sure no one is in the room and then before giving yourself time to think about you, you’re writing a small message in that corner.

The moment your quill lifts away from making the period at the end of your sentence, you feel a surge of regret. You should remove it. Use a quick charm and act like it never happened. Or you could conceal it. After all, what’s the harm in doing so? He would never see it because he’d never reveal it.

But what if he did? What if he pulls it out when he’s alone, much like you are now, and casts the same revealing charm he used to and sees your little message? The brief thought slips into a daydream. If he were to even think of using the revealing charm, it would mean he thought there was a chance you’d write something, that he was hoping for it, looking for it. You can see his little, hidden smile in your mind and the way his fingertips would dance over your writing much like yours had his chart.

The draw of the possibility is too appealing in the middle of the night. You silently talk yourself into it, calling it a risk-free decision. Either he wants you to do it or he’ll never see it. You slip your wand out of the robes you’re still wearing and whisper the incantation as you press the tip to your written words. There’s a rush in your blood and a flutter in your chest as you watch the ink slowly disappear on the parchment.

When there’s no trace of the words anymore, you feel a mix of emotions; anxiety, release, anticipation. You’re committed now though. Before you can change your mind, you roll up his star chart and put it back in your bag and prepare to go to bed with the echo of your words floating through your mind.

I miss you.

---

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your-denki-kun · 4 years

Text

The Past Should Stay The Past

Kirishima x bakugou

Warning: Suicide attempt, negative thoughts, mentioning of voices, angst, mentioning of bullying, depression, deep thoughts, shitty writing

What: Angst with good ending

A/N: So fun fact I first wanted this to be a story in Bakugou’s point of view, but then I got the idea to make it like a diary thing and ended up making this. I hope you guys enjoy and feel free to make requests, I don’t do smut.

~???? pov.~

It happened three days ago. No one saw it coming and yet it didn't come as a surprise. Funny how those things work from time to time. We hadn't seen Bakugou in about a day and started to get faintly worried, because no matter what he did to Midoriya in the past he's still our classmate. The reason we got worried is because Bakugou always leaves his room at least once a day.

We voted on who was going to check and it had been me, when it comes to Bakugou it's almost always me. So I went up to his room, not really bothered by having to check up on him because I'm worried and sometimes I hear strange sounds coming from his room when it's silent in mine. I had knocked on his door only for it to stay silent.

After a bit I knocked again, yet I didn't get an answer. I told him I was coming in and tried opening the door, but it was locked, so I kicked open the door. That's when I saw it. He was laying in the middle of his room, on the floor with foam escaping his mouth as he was trashing on the floor.

''BAKUGOU!!!'' I had yelled as I ran over to him and pulled him onto his side so he wouldn't choke.

I remember screaming for someone to call and ambulance. Sero, who had followed me up, glanced inside the room confused and quickly called an ambulance as he told everyone else to stay away from the room. It didn't take long for the ambulance people to come and take him with them.

That brings us to now, three days after that. School has been canceled for the rest of the week for us to recover from the shock. This is my first day back at the dorms, seeing I have been with Bakugou since he got brought into the hospital. I'm in his room now, looking for clues as to why. Soon I find his diary and after contemplating for a bit I open it and start reading.

'Okay, I ain't going to make it sappy and write all the classic shit, I'm just going to write down my fucking thoughts or whatever. I read it worked on the internet. So....It's been a few weeks since everything started. Random extra's have been whispering comments about me to each other while giving me disapproving glances and glares. I don't fucking get why it's getting to me but whatever.

I've also been noticing the shitty extra's from the squad have been distancing themselves from me. They no longer want my help studying and more often than not they hang out without me. For some shitty reason it makes me feel really shitty. God this shit is stupid.'

I read on the first page. My eyes tear up as I flip to the next page.

'Been about four days since I last wrote in this shitty thing. Today shit got physical. This bitch purposefully bumped into me and then kicked me before laughing and walking off with her shitty friends. Fucking bitch.

Shit is becoming weird when I'm alone. I will hear these shitty voice that tell me fucked up things, it leaves when I have others to focus on. No one wants to fucking be around me however, so that is shit. I hope these shitty voices will leave before I go fucking mental. I think I might be writing in this shitty thing again because it makes my chest feel lighter for a bit or some shit.

God I sound so fucking sappy right fucking now. Guess that's what happens to people when you get emotionally overwhelmed.

The shitty extra's have stopped talking to me. I removed myself from the shitty group chat. Life has become so fucking dull now. God I hate to fucking admit it but I miss them. God I really am turning into a fucking sap. This shit is stupid.'

I feel a few tears falling as I read what he wrote. I'm glad that even when he writes he's vulgar, because that means he was still feeling like himself somewhat, but what he writes is so sad and depressing. The page beside it has random doodles on it which I can't really make out, so I flip the page and start reading the next one.

'Welp, I'm writing in this thing again. It's been, uhm. three weeks I think since the last time I wrote in this. I should really put dates on these pages, but I'm to tired to do that. Sleeping is hard for me the last three days. Every time I close my eyes I see bad memories of the past. Deku, if you ever read this, I'm so sorry for what I did.

I could never say that to you in real life, because that means showing you I'm defeated. That's right, I'm defeated. I'm slowly breaking and no one sees. The last week I cried more than I have in all the time I’ve been alinve. I cry myself to sleep and no one notices. Guess that's my fault though, I’ve always been a distant person.

I'm glad concealer was invented, because it helps me with hiding the bags under my eyes. I can't hide the deadness of my eyes however, but it's not like anyone notices so what's there to hide? The voices are wining, slowly. It's becoming harder to fight them and they pester me every minute of the day.

The shit I doodle on the side of my note books and papers have also taken a dark turn, just like my mind. Yesterday I drew a black figure hanging from a noose that was attached to the ceiling. A chair was on the ground. The figure was tired of everything, just like me. Funny how something as simple as words can change a person.

Sometimes the voices tell me to end it. I won't. Not yet at least. And I already established that if I do end it, I won't hang myself. It's too slow and painful. I think I'll either slit my wrist or OD. It feels weird writing that down. God I really hope no one ever reads this shit.

I've been silent in classes, barely talk anymore. The only times I talk is to answer a question from a teacher. My classmates don't talk to me anymore, not even when we're teamed up during hero training. It's weirdly lonely, which is new for me. Guess I deserve to be alone however, so I don't really deserve to complain about it.

How did Dek Izuku deal with my shit for so long? I can't even deal with it for four shitty months and he dealt with it for eleven years. I really am weak, just like everybody always tells me. Even the hag thinks I'm weak. Can't disagree anymore though. I wonder if any noticed how silent I've become. Guess they don't, but still. This is stupid.'

Tears stream down my face as I read what he wrote down. It takes up about two pages of the diary and it's breaking my heart even more than it's already broken. As I read a few more pages I notice how every thing is becoming more depressing and depressing. One page catches my attention however.

'Izuku told his friends about what I did when we were younger. Uraraka told the others and now I really don't have anyone left. I deserve it though.

The voices are annoying as hell and won't stop degrading me and telling me to end it. In a way I get where they're coming from. Guess this is what you get for bullying your childhood friend.

Is loneliness supposed to hurt so much? Don't know. Can't really ask anyone either. Guess I'll be pondering about that for a while now. The voices will probably tell me this is nothing. Guess it isn't. God I should be stronger. What the fuck am I doing here?'

I flip the page and read a few more before another one catches my attention.

'It's decided. The day after tomorrow I'll OD, cutting hurts too much and is too slow. People could find me easily when I cut myself. If I OD it isn't very painful, but not painless and it will be quick. It will end my misery fasted, yet still a bit painful.

I drew another suicide drawing. In this one a black figure is standing on top of a building, an empty bottle behind them on the roof and foam spilling from their mouth. The figure is half leaning off it, arms spread as they're just about to fall. I drew one after it, the same figure, but now on the ground surrounded by blood as their body is broken and bloodied.

I’m gonna stop writing in this now. The only things I'll be writing is letters to the people I care about. This is stupid.'

I drop the diary and wipe at my eyes, trying to get a clearer view before getting up and stumbling around his room to find the letters he was talking about. As I open the drawer of his desk I see one single envelope with my name on it. I grab it with shaking hands before turning it around and opening it. I pull out the papers with writing on it and start reading.

'Hey Kirishima,

No idea if you'll even read this, but deep down I hope you do. The only hope I have at the moment. I don't know if you've noticed, but the past half year I’ve been getting bullied. People will beat me up, call me things and talk about me as if I'm not there. I know I shouldn't let it get to me, but I'm not as strong as Izuku.

I have never been. That's why I bullied him, because even though he didn't have his quirk back then, he was still better than me and I hated that. I thought that if I bullied him it would stop and he would break and I would be better, but it didn't work. The reason I wanted to be better is because people told me I was better than him.

If you found this you've been looking around my room, I don't blame you. I have a feeling you found my book in which I wrote first, seeing it was pretty much out in the open. No one would have found it, but I know you did. You know my room better than any one else because you've been here the most.

If you've read it you know why I did this, if you didn't read it.... I OD'ed because I didn't see the point in living. The voices in my head have been telling me to do this for a long time. I finally decided to give in. And here we are.

On the one hand I hope someone finds me and is able to safe me. On the other hand I hope no one finds me until it's too late. I can't take this anymore and I know that makes me weak, but I've already accepted I’m weak a long time ago. Well....Not that long, but for about four months now.

Don't be sad. Please don't be. There is no point in being sad. I....Well, I didn't deserve to be here in the first place, at UA. For some fucked up reason I got accepted however. I got kidnapped and ended All Might, I ruined everyone's lives and got us all in trouble. I guess that was the time shit changed.

I got kidnapped and ever since things have been going down hill. The hag called me weak, you guys had to safe me because I couldn't safe myself, I ended All Might, got you all in trouble, failed my provisional license exam, got into a fight with Izuku and got us on house arrest, I almost lost you.

That really hurt me. When they told me you had gotten hurt while saving Eri. I think that's when I realized what you are to me. That must confuse you...Let me explain. Ever since I met you you have always wanted to be my friend. I still don't know why you wanted to be my friend, but I'm glad.

Maybe that's why I got into UA, to meet you. Anyway, I'm getting side tracked. At first I hated you for wanting to be my friend, I didn't see the point of having any. Soon you showed me that having friends is great however. You and the others were never too bothered by my behavior and stuck with me.

No one has ever stuck with me for as long as you guys did. My past friends just used me for a good image at school. Soon you became my best friend, after the sport festival to be precise. You are my first best friend after Izuku. You stuck with me, made me laugh and smile. You were always there for me.

When you reached out to me that day I knew you'd always have my back. And then you got hurt. You were unconscious and in the hospital. It was then I realized I love you, Eijirou Kirishima. So, so much. I snuck into your dorm and stole a hoodie which I put around a pillow and hugged every night until you were back here at the dorms.

But all good things must come to an end. You realized how I truly am and decided that that is not what you want as a friend. I understand that, I do. Don't feel bad for leaving me behind, never ever feel bad about that.

Like the stupid audio I used to listen to says; I'm used to it. I'm used to people walking out of my life, I'm used to people talking bad about me, I'm used to people pretending to be my friends, I'm used to being let down, I'm used to being lied to, I'm used to being heartbroken.

You didn't let me down thought. Never did you let me down. God, you exceeded all my expectations. Don't ever change yourself, no matter what people say. Because that's the biggest mistake of my life, changing because others wanted me to. I hope that when you read this letter you understand I'm not the vulgar person I let everybody believe I am.

I'm actually a kind, caring person. But because of my quirk people expected me to be different, so I changed so they wouldn't be let down. I care a lot about what others think and being angry is my mask. When I'm angry people won't notice I'm hurting or happy or anything. They just see me being angry.

This is a long letter, sorry about that. I just wanted to get everything off my chest even if no one ever reads this. You are the best friend I could ever hope for so continue being a great person, become the best hero out there. Make me proud. Well, I already am so proud of you, but make me even prouder.

I love you, Eijirou Kirishima.

Yours truly, Katsuki.'

Tears stream down my face as I collaps to the floor and sob. That's all I can manage to do except for clutching the letter to my chest. I sob and sob and sob until I feel arms wrap around me. I glance up and see gold hair. I clutch onto Kaminari as I sob into his chest. He simply rubs my back as he holds me.

I don't know how long we sat there, only that it was a long time. When I finally manage to calm down I break my hug with Kaminari and wipe at me face, getting rid of all the snot and tears. I look at Kaminari with what I can only imagine, red puffy eyes as he looks at me worried, but also a bit confused.

''What happened?'' Kaminari asks softly, almost as if he's scared to speak up.

''B-Bakubro...He......He left me a letter.'' I whisper back, voice hoarse from crying.

''I see...What was it about?''

I silently hand him the letter. He takes it gently and reads it. I just watch him as different emotions show on his face as he comes to different parts of the letter. When he finishes he looks at me with tear brimmed eyes. His hands are shaking as he looks so sad and conflicted. I simply take the letter for him and place it on the ground beside me.

''Yeah...'' Is all I manage to mumble as I look back up at him.

''He...He was hurting so much....How..How didn't we notice?'' Kaminari stammers in disbelieve.

''Like he said...He hid it.......I....I’m gonna go.'' I mumble as I get up and walk out of the room.

I walk downstairs and out of the dorms, ignoring the worried questions form my classmates. I get onto the buss and ride it to the hospital. As I arrive I silently walk up to his room. I hesitate before walking into his room. I stare at the door for a while before slowly opening it. The room is empty except for Bakugou's bed and the machines he's hooked up to.

'His parents must have left.' I think as I walk over to the chair beside the bed. I sit down on it and take Bakugou's hand in mine. It's warmer than when he got here, but it's still cold compaired to how warm they usually are. I stare at his hand as my eyes tear up once again. With my free hand I wipe at my eyes.

''Wake up...Please...I need you.'' I sniffle as I feel more and more tears streaming down my face.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I slowly open my eyes when I feel something shift. As I sit up I groan and rub at my burning eyes. I hear another groan and look at the source wide-eyed. Bakugou has a troubled look at his face as his head moves from side to side, mumbled words and groans leaving him. I jump up and push the alarm button that's attached to the bed.

''What's wrong?'' A nurse asks as she walks into the room.

''He's stirring and groaning.'' I explain with wide eyes as I look at her.

''I see, that must mean he's waking up.'' She states as she walks over and checks the machines and his IV drip.

''So it's a good sign?'' I ask with a hopeful glint in my eyes

''Yes.'' She chuckles.

As if on cue Bakugou's eyes shoot open and his whole body tenses up. The nurse gently removes his mask before rubbing soothing circles on his shoulders, trying to get him to relax. Slowly it works and his eyes go back to normal as he relaxes onto the bed. Slowly he moves his head to look at the nurse who's smiling gently at him.

''Who found me?'' He croaks out as he winches slightly.

''This young man did.'' The nurse says as she looks at me.

Bakugou turns his head to look at me. As soon as our eyes meet his widen in shock as mine tear up for the millionth time this day. I jump up and hug him tight, being mindful of all the wires, and sob into his shoulder. He just lays there, staring at the ceiling as he's frozen in his spot. I can hear the nurse excusing herself before she walks out.

''I'm so sorry! I shouldn't have left you behind! Don't ever do this again! I'm sorry!'' I sob as I hold him tighter.

''Kirishima......You..You found me?'' Bakugou asks in a weak and shocked voice.

''Yes! We were worried and I went to check up on you. You were shaking and foam was coming out of your mouth. I was so scared...Sorry.'' I say, voice getting weaker the longer I talk, as I break the hug and look at his face.

''The letter.''

''I found it and read it. I love you too, so don't do this again. Please.''

''I...You love me?''

''Yes. Of course I do silly. Promise me that you won't do this again. Promise you'll come to me when you feel down. Please, I can't loose you.'' I beg him.

''....Promise.'' He whispers, the look of shock still not leaving his face.

''Good. This is going to be shitty timing, but.....Will you be my boyfriend?''

''Yes.'' He whispers, a glint I can't place in his eyes.

I smile and hug him again, nuzzling my face in his neck and placing a small kiss on it. Katsuki slowly wraps his arms around me and holds me close with the little strength his body holds right now. I instinctively hold him tighter when I notice just how little strength he has. Katsuki chuckles in respons.

''I love you, Katsuki.'' I whisper against his neck.

''I love you too, Eijirou.'' Katsuki whispers back.

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moonknightly · 5 years

Text

Not Thinking Of You : Poe Dameron x Reader

Pairing: Poe Dameron x Reader

Word Count: 3.1K

Request: “For the au + trope + prompt game can I request a enemies to overs soulmate!au with the prompt “you have the emotional capacity of a brick.” And ofc with Poe 🥺”

Warnings: I said a bad word and I also cheated and didn’t use the sentence prompt

The alarm clock shattered as it hit the concrete floor, screws and bolts flying around the room as the annoying ringing finally ceased. Your head was pounding, stomach flipping with each nauseous wave that flew through your body. All of the lights in your quarters were shut off, but you knew that the second you opened your eyes your migraine would only worsen. It was the sixth day that month you had woken up to the feeling of imaginary nails impaling themselves into your brain, and you couldn’t help but groan as annoyance flowed through your veins, wincing just slightly as the sound only made your head throb further. A sixth day of unproductivity, where you wouldn’t be able to get out of bed and get anything done. A sixth day of pain. A sixth day of being useless to your fellow Resistance members.

You thought that you better let them know sooner rather than later.

But you didn’t want to move, not yet. You had been dreaming before being rudely awoken by your alarm, and you thought that, maybe, if you tried hard enough, you would be able to recall the images that had been running through your unconscious mind. You remembered the feeling of grass on your skin, a blue sky and clouds above. You had been on your back, the steady pressure of another’s body weighing down on top of you. The connection you had felt — the indescribable tug and pull in the pit of your stomach, the spark. It had felt so real, so intense. The feeling of soft lips upon your own, moving hastily yet still in sync. Hands on your hips, fingertips bruising your skin as you could feel the desperation pouring through their touch. Your fingers tangled between locks of raven hair, pulling softly, just enough so that you could look up and stare into a pair of dark, familiar eyes-

You sat up quickly, ignoring the pulsing in your head that came with your aggressive movement as you let your back slump against the headboard. It was just a dream, nothing but a dream. A ridiculous prank your brain had decided to play, because surely you wouldn’t have willingly dreamt of kissing him. Dreams didn’t mean a damn thing, and that dream specifically meant nothing.

“God I fucking hate him,” you found yourself gently sighing, trying your hardest to ignore the insistent tingling of your lips and the phantom pressure still present on your hips, on your chest, everywhere.

Without opening your eyes, you quietly called for the small droid in the corner, hoping your voice was loud enough to wake him. BB-8 let out a few, short beeps, but quickly stopped once he processed the pain in your voice. He knew what that meant. It was the whole reason he had started spending the night in your quarter’s, afterall — a direct order from his master to keep an eye on you, though the man in question would never admit it, and often tried to pretend that he hadn’t asked that of his droid. You had voiced your objection to the idea several times, but finally realized that it was useless when BB-8 would just show back up at your door night after night, no matter how many times you asked him to return to his own quarters.

The droid silently rolled over to you, and you gently whispered for him to let General Organa know of your less than ideal situation. He responded only with a nod of his head, remembering to stay as quiet as possible, before making his way over to the door and going to do as you asked.

Once he was gone, you hastily pushed the covers back from your body, all memories of the dream vanishing from your mind. Opening your eyes and letting them adjust to the light, or rather, lack thereof, your gaze immediately flew to your leg, searching for the familiar coin sized, nearly perfect circle on the inside of your left ankle. You watched just as the small doodle appeared, a lazy smile finding its way onto your lips. They apparently had just woken up as well. Your soulmate.

They had been drawing the circle onto their ankle for years now; the same tiny drawing every single day to serve as a constant reminder that they were still out there, somewhere. A reminder that they hadn’t lost hope in finding you one day, they just weren’t ready to. Somehow, from the first time you noticed it, you had known that that was what the little circle meant. They weren’t ready.

Not that you minded, you weren’t exactly ready to find them either. The Resistance was your life — your main focus. You were dedicated to fighting the war against the First Order, and for the time being, that was okay. It was perfectly fine. Your soulmate was still drawing the circle, so it was clear to you that they weren’t ready either.

You weren’t worried. You would find each other eventually. And if it got to a point where you couldn’t wait any longer, it would be easy enough to find each other once you were ready to. All you had to do was write your questions on your arm, and it would appear on theirs. That seemed to be how most pairs found each other, afterall. You often rolled your eyes at that, even though the thought had crossed your own mind. Where was the magic in that? What was the point in finding your soulmate if you were just going to make written plans to meet somewhere, at a set time? Where was the romance?

You shook your thoughts from your head. You didn’t have time to think about that. Reaching to your right, you blindly searched for the familiar black marker you kept on your bedside table. Once it was in your hand, you uncapped it, reaching down to draw a matching circle on your right ankle — a reminder for them as well.

You threw the marker to the side after making your own mark, letting yourself fall back to the mattress. You briefly found yourself wondering what your commander would have to say about your absence the next time you saw him. You rolled your eyes, the thought of Poe alone enough to cause goosebumps to rise on your skin. You guessed that’s what people always meant when they said someone or something made their skin crawl.

You huffed in annoyance, but quickly closed your eyes, letting sleep overtake you once more.

Poe glanced at the writing on his hand, furrowing his eyebrows and letting it distract him from the wild dream he had had the night before. He read over the single word for what must have been the hundredth time that morning, still as confused as he had been the first time.

“Idiots.”

It was in Leia’s handwriting. She had grabbed his wrist and scribbled the word into the back of his hand before he even had time to ask her what she was doing. She had offered no explanation behind her choice of word, or any insight as to why it was plural. He had no idea what had even prompted her to write it. All he had been doing was sitting next to her, complaining about his fellow pilot’s recklessness and the fact that she had been stealing his droid from him each and every night for the last month. Nothing out of the ordinary for him.

He shook his head, his mind instantly drifting to whether or not they had noticed yet. Would the word appear on his soulmate’s hand? Did it even work like that? If he didn’t write it himself, would it still show up? He wondered, if they saw it, what they thought of it. It had been the first word that had ever been written on his skin.

“Well that’s a great first impression,” he mumbled under his breath, rubbing the bridge of his nose as he debated on whether or not he should wash the ink from his hand.

A series of beeps interrupted Poe from his thoughts, and he turned, glancing behind himself only to find BB-8 rolling towards him.

“Buddy!” he called out, instantly kneeling to give the droid a quick belly rub. The action earned him a series of noises that almost resembled purrs, causing the pilot to smile brightly. “Where have you been all morning?”

Another string of beeps, though this time, they brought a frown to Poe’s to face. “Y/L/N is out with a migraine again and you snuck her some pain medicine from the medbay?”

The droid nodded excitedly, wanting to get the medicine to you as quickly as possible, hoping it would make you feel better. He had grown quite attached to you in the last month, even more than he had been before.

Poe rolled his eyes, annoyance another emotion he would never admit to feeling flooding through his body. You had been getting so many migraines, he couldn’t keep up with it anymore. And he hated to admit it, but he needed you. You were their best pilot, other than himself, of course. Things had been rather peaceful at the base for the last couple of days, but he knew that could change at any moment. He — they needed you.

He needed to personally make sure you took the pain medicine.

Turning on his heel, he stalked towards your quarters, BB-8 rolling easily beside him. Poe knew it wasn’t your fault for getting migraines as often as you had been, but he found himself becoming more and more irritated with each one. And often, with the irritation and annoyance, came a strong bout of worry that he attributed to being down one squad member. It wasn’t like he actually cared. You aggravated him to no end, and he knew that he did the same to you, maybe even more. The thought caused him to smirk, for a reason that he didn’t quite understand.

He reached your quarters in just a few short minutes and found himself hesitating, glancing down at his droid who beeped questioningly at him.

“What? I’m not nervous. I’ve been in her quarters before, and besides, it’s Y/L/N.”

BB-8 met his master’s answer with another snarky comment that Poe chose to ignore and, without really thinking about it, he moved to bang his fist against the metal door.

He cursed at himself, having forgotten that the entire reason he was there was because you had a migraine he was working to get rid of, not make worse. BB-8 had a few choice beeps for him as well, and apparently, so did you, as all he could hear from the other side of the door was a series of swears.

Poe sighed, letting himself in without another thought.

You were laying in your bed, your pillow thrown over your eyes. The sound of the door sliding open made you groan, and you quickly sat up, letting the pillow fall away from you. Your groan only intensified upon realizing who stood in the entryway. You should have realized. Only he would pound on your door while your head was trying to kill you.

“Special delivery, princess.”

You frowned, crossing your arms over your chest as Poe flipped on, thankfully, a dim light, giving the room a soft, yellow glow that wasn’t too harsh for your eyes in the moment.

“Special delivery my ass, Poe Dameron. Now what the fuck are you doing?”

“Do you kiss your mother with that mouth?”

“I bet you’d love to know what I do with this mouth.”

Poe rolled his eyes, walking the short distance from the door before sitting down on the edge of your bed.

“Bb-8 brought you some medicine for the migraine.”

The droid beeped quietly, confirming Poe’s words as he slowly started to roll over to you. You smiled down at the small robot, scratching his head as a way of showing him thanks.

“How thoughtful of him, but that still doesn’t explain why you’re here.”

“He’s my droid.”

“Doesn’t mean you had to tag along. He obviously knows how to get here himself.”

“What, do you want me to admit that I was checking on you or something, princess? Holy fuck, you’re so irritating.”

You rolled your eyes at the nickname, ignoring the feeling it brought to the pit of your stomach. “As if you’re any less maddening, flyboy.”

Poe glared at you, but didn’t say anything else. His behavior encouraged you to do the same, only you couldn’t help the involuntary quirk of an eyebrow that followed, a gesture that Poe found almost challenging. He pulled his bottom lip between his teeth, and your gaze reluctantly flickered between his eyes and his mouth. You silently cursed yourself, hoping he hadn’t noticed, but judging by the smirk on his face, he definitely had seen.

“You want to kiss me right now, don’t you?”

You inhaled sharply, causing yourself to cough and splutter as your lungs filled with too much air too quickly. Poe’s smirk only deepened, a gentle chuckle falling from his lips as he watched you in amusement.

It took you a moment, but you soon regained your composure. Your eyes were still wide, and Poe only laughed again, though this time with enough force to shake your bed.

“Why would you ever think that I want to kiss you?”

Poe shrugged his shoulders, a goofy and adorably irritating grin on his face. You huffed, but otherwise stayed silent, not trusting your voice just then. Rolling your eyes, you brought your hand up to tuck a stray strand of hair behind your ear, just needing to move or fidget. Poe saw it as an opportunity to tease your further, as for once, you weren’t fighting back, and Maker would he take every chance to mess with you.

“Admit it, you wanted to kiss-”

He abruptly stopped, words suddenly caught in his throat as he lost all ability to speak. All of his previous thoughts quickly vacated his mind as his eyes followed your hand while it moved through the darkness, and he found himself holding his breath, a sense of anticipation settling in his stomach. Your hand finally settled on your thigh, and as he finally got a better look, all he could do was stare at it, lips pursed and eyebrows furrowed, the confusion evident enough on his face that you found yourself raising an eyebrow for a second time.

“What are you staring at?”

His eyes quickly fluttered between your hand and your face several times, his mind racing as he tried to remember how to speak properly.

“Did you-” he started to ask, though he had to pause for a moment to swallow the anxious lump that had formed in his throat, shaking his head as if to clear his mind. “Did you see Leia this morning?”

“What?” you responded, your own eyebrows furrowing to match his.

“Did you see Leia-”

“No, I haven’t left my room all morning.”

Poe remained silent, though he now kept his eyes trained on yours. His gaze was intense, and he looked slightly troubled — as if he were thoroughly and silently debating whether or not to tell you something. But, soon enough, panic began to flood his veins, and he let it get the better of him.

“Nothing, I just,” he stuttered, furiously shaking his head as he stood from your bed. “I don’t — you just — ”

“Poe, what the fuck is going on?” you quickly interrupted, exasperation evident in your voice.

He didn’t know how to answer your question. Didn’t want to answer your question, because he knew what he saw and he knew what it meant, but he didn’t know how to even begin to process it. He only continued to shake his head before turning on his heel, quickly walking towards your door while lamely mumbling something about taking your pain medicine.

“Poe!” you called out, hoping the tone of your voice would be enough to get him to stay, but it was useless.

He continued to walk away, leaving you more confused and bewildered than you had ever been.

You sat there for a moment, a million questions running through your head. You heard a small beep come from the floor, and glanced down to find BB-8 just as lost, his head swiveling between you and the door.

“What the fuck?” you gently asked him.

He didn’t respond, not knowing what to say or do, and instead of trying to offer up an explanation for his master’s strange behavior, he decided to offer you something else: the medicine that had been Poe’s whole reason for barging into your room.

You had completely forgotten about your migraine, but the moment you remembered, it came back full force. You groaned, gently massaging your temples as the ache settled in again. Without hesitating for another moment, you reached for the small vile BB-8 balanced on one of his tools, but stopped before you could close your fist around it.

“What the-” you started, your eyes settling on a single word, written on the back of your hand in clear, black ink.

“Idiots.”

You frowned, bringing your other hand up to try and wipe it away to no avail.

Why would your soulmate write that on the back of their hand? The first word your soulmate had ever written, and it was “idiots”? What did that even mean?

And why had Poe been so alarmed to see it?

You let yourself fall back onto the mattress for the second time that morning, never letting your eyes wander from the back of your hand. You could only stare at it and stare at it and stare at it, until it slowly started to disappear from your skin, washing itself away.

But you were already asleep, the pain medicine having kicked in fairly quickly.

BB-8 moved to his spot in the corner of your room, dedicated to following his master’s orders to watch over you as you slept.

And Poe was in the bathroom, furiously scrubbing at the back of his hand under boiling water, until his skin was red and raw and all traces of Leia’s writing was gone.

#poe dameron #poe dameron x reader #poe x reader #star wars #tros #tlj #tfa #sw

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thegrimmgrimm · 4 years

Text

oh im sorry did you think i was done with this?? 😂😂 https://thegrimmgrimm.tumblr.com/post/620532449904132096/an-idea-bouncing-around-in-my-head-for-the-last

Fair (I'll Stand Here With You)

Jaskier lets himself into the apartment, loudly declaring his entrance, and fairly sure he's left the two lovebirds enough time to finish up their morning celebrations. (Which he is certain will have involved pancakes, and copious amounts of maple syrup and whipped cream.)

Thankfully for his sanity, it appears he's correct in the assumption. He hears Yennefer call him into the kitchen where she stands nursing a fresh cup of tea, hair still damp from the shower and frame dwarfed in an obviously stolen shirt. Jaskier can't see any more of her from behind the counter, but he has to imagine that's all there is to the outfit. She gives him a lazy grin and a wink as greeting

Behind her, Geralt is quietly swearing at their perpetually-broken coffee machine and mumbling about infernal machines, wearing nothing but the most colourful pair of unicorn-patterned boxers Jaskier has ever seen. He turns to greet Jaskier with his own warm boneless-seeming smile and Jaskier can't help but laugh affectionately at the pair.

"Do you two still need a bit longer? I can go for a walk around the block and come back later?" Jaskier teases, watching Yen roll her eyes and Geralt huff out a silent laugh. Geralt just pushes a steaming cup of coffee across the counter towards him, looking fond and exasperated already.

"So, year number five, eh? I, for one, am pleasantly surprised you two haven't managed to kill each other by now." It's Geralt's turn to roll his eyes at the line, but he's well versed in Jaskier's style of affection by now.

"What are we in for this time, Jaskier? More maudlin tunes to send us to sleep?" Yennefer asks, though the fondness in her expression takes the bite from her words.

Jaskier puts a hand to his heart in mock-horror. "Yennefer, you wound me. I have it from a good source you love all my songs."

Yennefer eyes him skeptically, then turns a suspicious eye on Geralt, who is suddenly very interested in the coffee machine again.

The three of them polish off their drinks whilst catching up around the kitchen counter, and soon enough Jaskier finds himself ushering his dearest friends into the living room to sit over on the couch.

He sets himself up on their sturdy coffee table, one leg tucked under him that he knows will fall asleep before he is finished but can never bring himself to care. Yen and Geralt sit watching him with the expression of school children told to be on their best behaviour.

Jaskier pokes his tongue out them and pulls out his phone to rest on his knee with lyrics he won't need, while they settle themselves down more comfortably and naturally. Yennefer sits forward with her knees tucked under her, and Geralt lounges back against the sofa with an arm thrown around her waist.

Jaskier smiles at them fondly before clearing his throat, "Right, now don't get all judgey-judgey. I've worked hard on this and no, I will not accept criticism."

They just laugh softly and Jaskier shakes off the barest of nerves daring to threaten him. It isn't really stage fright, or anything like that, and nor does he think they would be cruel or mean about it, not really. But Jaskier really has poured his heart into the song, and it'll feel inadequate if they don't end up liking it.

"Right then." Jaskier clears his throat again and starts plucking away at his guitar.

"It's what my heart just yearns to say In ways that can't be said..."

He watches his friends' reactions as he sings the first few lines, though he soon finds himself uncharacteristically overwhelmed by the attention and he looks down sightlessly at the words on his phone screen.

There are lines that draw small sounds of amusement from the two, but mostly they're silent as they watch and listen. Jaskier's eyes drift closed as he holds each line in his mind and tries to focus on keeping his voice steady. Each time he feels his voice strain or crack he fights a wince, as strong emotion threatens to choke his voice away.

There's just something about capturing how Jaskier sees the love between the two, and offering it back to them, raw and bare and honest.

"...Oh how, oh how unreasonable How unreasonably in love I am with everything you do I'll spend my days so close to you cos if I'm stood here Then I'm stood here And I'll stand here I'll stand here with you."

He fades off into a dreadful silence and waits for a moment before looking up, hiding only a little behind a hand he cards nervously through his hair. Yennefer and Geralt are staring at him with wide, shocked eyes.

"So, it was... good?" He ventures, tension growing in his stomach. He'd expected a much more jovial response, perhaps he'd overstepped? Maybe they're just that impressed. Completely lost for words. Jaskier is confident, but not that confident.

Yen and Geralt turn to look to each other in such synchronicity that Jaskier almost laughs aloud, and they share an indecipherable look before turning back to their long-suffering friend.

It's Yennefer who moves first. She rises from the couch to stand in front of Jaskier and gently takes the guitar from his hands. Confused, he hands it over without complaint, did she not like it? She leans the instrument against the coffee table and her hands come up to cup both sides of Jaskier's face, her expression serious, yet somehow awed.

"Is that truly how you feel?" Her voice carries the same awe as her eyes, and Jaskier swallows round a lump in his throat, unable to answer with more of a jerky nod.

Something alights in her expression and all of a sudden, her hands are sliding back into Jaskier's hair and her mouth is on his mouth and she tastes of too-sweet tea and mint toothpaste and she's kissing him.

She pulls back and it's Jaskier's turn to stare in shocked awe. His traitorous voice remains elusive and his eyes flick to Geralt who looks so astoundingly soft and fond as he also moves forward, brushing his thumb gently across Jaskier's cheekbone, before he also captures Jaskier's lips in a kiss.

It's soft, and hard, and sweet. When he pulls back Jaskier eyes flick back and forth between amber and violet, slowly losing his mind. His hands are clinging to the fabric of his jeans, knuckles white, and he's sure he doesn't even have the leg he's sitting on anymore. "Hm." Jaskier finally manages.

"That's my line," Geralt rumbles back, and it's like the breaking of a dam. Yen's laugh ripples like a river over rocks and Jaskier can't help but join in, even as she pulls him in for another kiss, and Geralts hands pull him up off the table. He stumbles a little on his sleeping leg but is caught and held fast by strong arms. Cheeky ones at that.

Hands tease at the hem his shirt, and there's a mouth attached to either side of his neck, which is lovely, but might also kill him. Finally regaining the use of his hands, Jaskier twines them with one each of Yen and Geralts, briefly halting their fervour.

Jaskier clears his thoughts with the slight shake of his head, but the only discernible thing is, why on earth would you want to stop this? And Jaskier is hardly one to argue with himself, especially on such matters.

He gives an encouraging squeeze to each of the hands grasped in his and nods with a somehow shy and sly smile towards the bedroom door. "Should we, uh...?"

Yennefer's grin is cat-like and almost feral, and the rumbling groan he hears from Geralt is almost enough to make his knees give out, but like so many time before, but also like no other, Jaskier finds himself dragged after these two. And he wouldn't have it any other way.

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

Sometime later, (Minutes? Hours? Days? Who can say?) Geralt is, predictably, fast asleep, and Jaskier lies tracing meaningless shapes on the soft skin of Yennefer's back with his fingertips.

"So, I take it you liked your gift," Jaskier teases, mouthing softly at her shoulder.

Yennefer preens like a cat, dark curls falling about her shoulders. "Definitely the best one so far."

Jaskier gasps mockingly at her candour and she nudges him away with a laugh, sending him dramatically sprawling backwards, though careful not to wake the sleeping mountain. Yen just scoffs and rolls her eyes at him.

"Though, I'm not sure who out of us really got the better end of it." Yennefer teases back, and her smile turns devious. "We shall just have to endeavour to have you beat next year."

Warmth spreads through Jaskier at the implication, "You're on." He challenges, and he returns to doodling on her back, this time words forming under his quick fingers.

"What are you writing?" Yennefer asks, though she can probably sense the answer.

"Next year's song, of course." Jaskier hears the low rumble of laughter from behind him and Geralt's warm forearm wraps around his waist, stubble scratching between his shoulder blades as Geralt softly presses his face in.

"A hard act to follow," he murmurs, voice still thick with sleep. "But I'm sure we'll think of something."

#Geraskefer #Yennskier #Geraskier #The Witcher #modern au #rip my fic apparently yall get 1500 words of fluff instead #ohohoho #happy friyay #enjoy

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spookyboywhump · 4 years

Text

So apparently I can’t write anything plot relevant to progress the story, but I can write almost 2000 words of Wren being a bitter teenager. Cool.

Yeah this was inspired by This ask from A While Ago, I had been thinking about it and got an image in my head and it’s not going to go anywhere but here’s what their first interaction would look like. Wren is probably 16/17 here and Zander would be 18. Also using their old names is weird as hell.

CW: A few mentions of bullying, other than that nothing really

***

Elias sat at the table, fidgeting nervously as he struggled to focus on the papers in front of him. He normally avoided the cafeteria, it was always too much for him, too many people, too many voices all talking at once, shouting to be heard over one another, too many smells making him sick to his stomach, the fluorescent lights only adding to his irritation. Normally, he hid in the library to avoid it all, and if not there he would slip outside, but the library was closed and it was too cold out for him to endure going outside and he was stuck in here and miserable.

He’d probably read over the same page three times now, but the words wouldn’t stick, drowned out by all the noise around him. He knew it would be easier to do it at home, like he was meant to after all, but if he wanted to sleep at all that night then he was better off finishing it now. He just wanted to get it done, wanted to complete something with no interruptions, the last thing he wanted was for somebody to sit down in the empty spot across from him, a thousand bad scenarios running through his mind.

He hesitated to look up at the boy, trying to keep his expression neutral, trying not to look as irritated and anxious as he felt. He briefly glanced behind him, looking for his group of friends watching the interaction go down, snickering and talking amongst themselves, but there wasn’t anyone with him, just the boy in a leather jacket looking at him with a smile. He certainly seemed a lot more genuine than most people who tried to talk to him. Must be a better actor then, Elias thought bitterly.

“Hi there!” The boy said happily, clearly in a better mood than Elias was.

“Hello…” He was slow to respond, almost not wanting the interaction to go further, wanting him to lose interest and leave him alone.

“You looked a little lonely over here by yourself,” I wasn’t, “I don’t think I’ve really seen you around before, what’s your name?” He asked, and if he was any less scared and any bit more mean, he would’ve told him to fuck off before this could continue.

“It’s Elias...” he murmured, habitually starting to pick at his fingers below the table, one of many nervous tics he would cycle through before this was over.

“Elias… do people ever call you Eli? You look like an Eli.” He said, and he wasn’t exactly wrong, he’d always felt his name was wrong for him.

“Sometimes, not… not many people do...” He spoke cautiously, choosing each word carefully, praying he was saying the right things to avoid ridicule.

“Well, it’s nice to meet you Eli!” He said happily, holding his hand out across the table. “I’m Daniel.” He said as Elias warily shook his hand, but was quick to pull it back when Daniel let go, pulling down the sleeve of his hand me down hoodie to try and cover his hand, cover the scratches on his fingers he’d been irritating all week.

“Nice to meet you too…” He tried not to phrase it like a question, but he couldn’t help but be suspicious. He was waiting for Daniel to tell him, it was a dare, he’d lost a bet or a game, he’d walk off laughing and he’d tell his friends about the weird kid he talked to and they would laugh and Elias was getting worked up at the thought of it. He wanted the bell to ring so he’d have a reason to escape, but he knew this was quickly going to feel like the longest lunch period ever.

“What are you working on?” He asked, leaning over to see the homework he had laid out, the actual page he was working on and the several pages of hastily scribbled notes and calculations.

“It’s just algebra homework, trying to finish early.” He said, and it took all his self control to not snap at him when he picked up one of his papers, looking over the problems he’d been working on. He wanted to snatch it out of his hands, to snap at him to fucking go away already, but he didn’t, watching him anxiously as he started fidgeting with his pencil, just praying he wouldn’t keep the page, or worse, tear it up. He didn’t though, he just looked up at Elias, almost looking impressed.

“You’re good at this, aren’t you?” He said, handing the paper back to him, which Elias was quick to take, relieved he had it back at all.

“I… I’m okay at it, I guess, I don’t know…” He said softly.

“It sure looks like it to me. I like your little drawings too, does all of your work get that?” He asked, looking at the papers all covered in little doodles on the sides. The notes he took during class always got the most, small jellyfish and sharks scribbled in blue ink.

“Yeah, it just… helps me pay attention I guess, to draw while they’re talking… not that I’m really an artist or anything but, the doodles help…” He said, immediately cursing himself for saying too much, for wanting to talk so bad he’d give in to what was most likely another trick being played on him.

“Fuck, I wouldn’t be able to multitask like that. Then again, I can’t draw like that either so I guess it’s not a problem.” He laughed. Elias was at the point where he wanted to ask him what exactly he wanted, why he was here, but Daniel hadn’t really done anything, and that just bothered him more because he felt guilty for being so suspicious of somebody who was actually being nice to him.

Even if he was just being nice though, Elias knew he wouldn’t stick around for long. He’d realize he was boring or strange, he’d get sick of him quickly, and Elias wouldn’t even blame him. Even now, a simple conversation between them, it seemed to come naturally for Daniel, as though he had everything he wanted to say on hand, and wasn’t afraid to say it, while Elias struggled to find the words he needed, struggled to word things and respond correctly. Trying to figure out how to talk to people, just enough that they didn’t look at him like he was stupid, it was always hard for him, he hated it more than anything. He couldn’t help but think he’d rather be stressing over his homework, even algebra wouldn’t hurt as much as this did.

“What class do you have after this?” Daniel asked, and Elias was just relieved it was a simple question he could answer. “This is your first year here, right?” He was unfortunately used to that question, but sighed heavily anyway.

“I have English next, and no, I graduate next year actually.” He said, an edge to his tone that he didn’t intend.

“Really? Oh man, I thought you were younger, my bad.” He said, and Elias was almost amazed that he could just keep talking. “I have a friend like that too, she’s real small, people get her age wrong all the time!” He laughed. “She’s really nice, maybe you’d like her, I don’t know where she got off to though- it’s way too crowded in here.” He said, turning to look behind him, searching for this person who Elias desperately hoped he wouldn’t have to meet. One uncomfortable interaction was more than enough for him.

“It’s too loud in here…” He muttered, and Daniel turned back around to look at him.

“Have you tried listening to music? Earbuds can normally drown it out.” He said. “I don’t know about you, but it usually helps me focus too.”

“Yeah, but I lost mine a while ago.” He suspected they had been stolen, he’d left his bag alone for just a moment and he knew he had them before that class and after, he just didn’t. He knew it wasn’t worth it to try and get them back, and he couldn’t afford to replace them, he’d already resigned himself to this suffering.

“Oh, I have an extra pair!” Daniel started to search through his bag, covered in patches that had been sewn on, though Elias only really recognized a few of the bands and the pink, purple, and blue heart shaped one.

“No- it’s fine, I don’t- I don’t need any-“ He stammered, but Daniel had already found them.

“Here- they’re brand new too, I bought ‘em when I thought I lost mine, but they still worked when I eventually found them so I had these sitting around anyway.” He said, holding them out to Elias.

“I don’t… I can’t pay you back for them…” He said hesitantly, but he just shrugged.

“That’s fine, you don’t need to. Just take them, I don’t really need it.” He said, and even though he already felt guilty for it, he could tell Daniel wouldn’t take no for an answer, so he reached up and took them.

“I, uh… thanks, Daniel.” He tried to smile at him, and his face absolutely lit up, as if that was what he’d wanted out of this conversation.

“No problem!” He said, and Elias nearly jumped when the bell finally rang, sooner than he had thought it would. He was quick to jump to his feet, trying to gather all his stuff so he could get across the building and get to class on time. Daniel wasn’t in the same kind of rush, standing up and grabbing his bag, looking at him before he left. “It was nice talking to you, Eli! Hopefully I’ll see you around again!” He said, and he seemed to genuinely mean it, Elias doing his best to smile back.

“Yeah, um, hopefully…” He said slowly, hoping it was the right thing to say, and it seemed like it was as Daniel smiled at him before heading off, and Elias instantly felt that rush of relief he got when he escaped a stressful situation. He didn’t feel like he escaped this, more that he survived it, maybe even successfully, he wasn’t sure of that though.

He may have been uneasy, and rather cynical about the interaction, and he was hesitant to trust anybody who spoke to him randomly, but he almost hoped that maybe they would see each other again, anxiety clashing with the innate, human need to just talk to someone. He knew that if they did, he’d probably drive him away pretty quickly, once he realized how downright annoying Elias really was, but it would be nice while it lasted, a break from his near constant isolation.

Of course, that was assuming he even wanted to actually see him again, instead of just being nice, and the sudden doubt he felt had him once again wishing this interaction had never happened.

#not whump #my writing #my oc's #wren #zander #not canon #i am so sorry wren holy shit my son #this was #interesting to write #hm

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musicaltheatrewannabe · 5 years

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mystery flowers - a seblos oneshot <3

decided that i had to write this before next week’s ep comes out!! based on my post from yesterday lol where the flowers are from seb for carlos but he messes up and doesn’t attach the card - enjoy!

“We’ve got mystery flowers people!” Carlos shouted, carrying in an enormous bouquet of flowers and drawing everyone’s attention. Seb put down his brush, hoping his makeup would make his actual blush less obvious, but the entire cast and crew were looking at the flowers, so he had nothing to worry about. Maybe the size of the bouquet was a little bit overkill, but once he had started adding flowers he couldn’t stop. He had wanted to give Carlos an opening night gift to show his appreciation for all of his hard work on the show throughout the semester, and when he had found that basket abandoned in the barn, it had all come together. He picked the flowers from his backyard discreetly, but when his mom saw what he was doing and started yelling at him, the damage had already been done. It had still been worth it, though, to see the smile on Carlos’ face as he carried in the giant bouquet.

Seb was about to go up to Carlos and talk to him alone when he processed one of his words and Big Red articulated his next thought: “why mystery?”

Carlos shrugged and said, “there was no card, so I’m guessing it’s dealer’s choice, but, if I had to bet, I’d say it’s for our leading lady!” He pointed at Nini who returned a shy smile, and everyone returned to their state of pre-show chaos.

Seb knit his brow in confusion. Why did Carlos think the flowers were for Nini? He had very clearly written Carlos’ name (accompanied by little hearts) on a small piece of card and-

Seb stood up suddenly, earning a concerned look from Kourtney. “You okay?”

“Yeah, yeah,” Seb stammered, his eyes darting around the room for his coat, “I just left something in my coat, I think.” Kourtney shrugged and continued doing her own makeup as Seb made a beeline for the corner of the room with the pile of jackets.

Once he found his corduroy jacket, his hands fidgeted frantically with the button on the right top pocket. He stuck his hand inside. Nothing. He opened the pocket on the other side and when he reached in he did feel the crisp edges of the card. Seb rolled his eyes at himself. Of course he had forgotten to actually put the card in the bouquet. He glanced around the room to make sure no one had caught onto what he was doing, but everyone was preoccupied with one last-minute emergency or another, including Carlos. He made his way back to the makeup tables and decided he would have to tell him about the flowers after the show.

As the cast walked off stage from the curtain call, bursting with energy, they all cheered and yelled incoherently. They had ushered Miss Jenn and Carlos onstage after all of the cast bows, and Seb had beamed with pride as the other boy grinned and bowed for the cheering audience. Their eyes met across the stage and when Seb caught up to Carlos in the wings the other boy took his hand.

“You were so good! Absolutely stole the show,” Carlos said, swinging their arms as they followed the rest of the cast backstage. “I told you you had nothing to worry about,” he squeezed Seb’s hand, earning a smile from the blonde boy. Their eye contact lingered for a few moments before Nini ran up to them and hugged them both.

“Seb!!! You were so incredible, it was so hard to hate you!” she gushed, and the boys laughed. “Oh my God, and Carlos,” she added, “might I just say, the best portrayal of Chad Danforth I’ve ever seen.”

“I second that!” Seb giggled.

“Let’s never talk about that again,” Carlos groaned. “But you? Nini Salazar-Roberts, you blew me away!”

Nini grinned, keeping her arms around them on either side. “Thanks! You know, knowing that the dean was here, it actually motivated me… Speaking of, I should probably go back out there and introduce myself!”

“Yes, go go go!” Seb pushed her back towards the stage and Carlos gave an encouraging thumbs-up. “I’m gonna go and quickly change out of these pants, they just don’t breathe at all,” Seb gave Carlos a knowing glance.

“Ok,” Carlos chuckled and raised his eyebrows as Seb rushed off to get his clothes, before turning to find Gina.

Once everything had quieted down a bit and most of the cast had filtered out, Seb, with the only trace of his Sharpay costume now the glitter in his hair, spotted Carlos packing up his binder in the corner of the room. He took a deep breath as his hand wrapped around the card in his pocket. Carlos glanced up and met Seb’s eyes with a smile. “What are you still doing in here? I thought everyone had already gone to Ashlyn’s.”

Seb fidgeted with his hands and looked down as he walked towards the other boy. “I was looking for you, actually…” Carlos raised his eyebrows in response, waiting for Seb to go on. “I know we joked about it earlier, but you seriously did such a good job stepping up to play Chad,” Seb said earnestly, as Carlos started shaking his head. “And I mean, as much as all the role-swapping tonight was an absolute mess, we managed to deal with it pretty well!”

“Luckily we had you as the star of the show to hold it all together,” Carlos smiled, swinging his bag over his shoulder.

Seb blushed, muttering a shy “thanks,” before realizing that he needed to say something now if he was going to. “Hey, um, before we go,” he started, Carlos glancing up expectantly, “I found the card that was supposed to go with the flowers.”

Confusion washed over Carlos’ face. “Wait, what do you mean?” he asked, and Seb held out the card in response.

“For you,” Seb said with a shy smile, and Carlos took the card, blushing at the little hearts doodled around his name.

“They’re from you?” Carlos asked, completely dumbfounded. He really had thought they had been for Nini. The possibility of the flowers being for him hadn’t crossed his mind at all, not even for a moment.

Seb nodded, gathering up the courage to respond. As a result, it came out all at once. “Yeah, I picked them on my farm this morning, did the whole arrangement as an opening night gift and even made the card, but because I’m an idiot, I forgot to actually put the card in the bouquet before leaving it in the hallway…” he trailed off with a shrug and a smile.

Carlos was overwhelmed. He still couldn’t believe the flowers were for him, let alone from Seb, the love of his life, or his crush, who was standing here all flustered in front of him. “You picked them yourself?” was all he managed to say, and Seb nodded sheepishly.

“I’m sorry- do you not like them?” Seb looked concerned, “I should’ve just bought a bouquet on the way here-“

“No, no, I love them, Seb!” Carlos reassured the other boy, putting his hands on his shoulders. “They’re beautiful,” he dropped his hands back down and cocked his head to the side. “But why didn’t you say something earlier? When I brought them in?”

“Well, you said that they weren’t addressed to anyone and I didn’t want to embarrass myself in front of everyone,” Seb explained. “Especially after everyone thought that they were for Nini - I didn’t want to disappoint her right before going onstage,” he added, and Carlos nodded along.

“Ok, good point,” Carlos replied. “That might have dramatically increased the stress level in the room, and it was already pretty high, mostly thanks to me,” he chuckled.

Seb looked Carlos in the eye. “You know how incredible you are, right?” he asked. Carlos just stared back at him, speechless. “I didn’t just bring you flowers because I- I like you,” Seb blushed, and Carlos did as well upon hearing those words, “I brought them because you deserve them. This whole year you’ve been working so hard to bring this show to life, basically singlehandedly, when Miss Jenn was going through it, and no one has truly acknowledged that.” Carlos stared in awe at the boy in front of him. “I just wanted to show you how much I appreciate you, Carlos, for everything, but especially for giving me what I’ve always wanted by helping me become Sharpay.” Seb’s heart was pounding in his chest, and he couldn’t believe he had said all of that, but he was glad to have gotten it all out.

Carlos took a step closer to brush the few stray hairs that were hanging down onto Seb’s forehead out of the way, resting his arms around his shoulders, and the blonde boy thought he would combust right then and there. “Thank you,” Carlos said, his voice softer than Seb had ever heard it before. “For the flowers,” he added, smiling and shaking his head in disbelief, “and for everything that you just said.”

“You don’t need to thank me,” Seb smiled, glancing from Carlos’ eyes down to his lips and back, “it’s all true.”

Seb took another step forward and they both leaned in, their eyes fluttering shut moments before their lips connected. Carlos tightened his arms around Seb’s neck and Seb wrapped one arm around Carlos’ back, gently pulling him closer. The kiss was soft and careful but they pulled away after a few moments because they both found themselves smiling too much. Seb giggled and couldn’t help but give Carlos a quick peck right after they pulled apart, making the other boy blush even more. “Oh my God, you’re the cutest thing I’ve ever seen,” Carlos said, keeping his arms around Seb’s neck and ruffling his hairspray-hardened hair with one hand. Some glitter fell into his face and Seb scrunched up his nose and eyes but still couldn’t stop smiling.

“Stop, the glitter’s gonna get everywhere!” Seb laughed, and Carlos pulled his arms back but shrugged.

“Isn’t that the point?” he asked, reaching for Seb’s hand and intertwining their fingers. Seb shot back a giddy smile and squeezed Carlos’ hand.

A thought suddenly dawned on Seb and he pulled Carlos toward the door. “We should really get going if we wanna make it to Ash’s in time for the cake!”

“Cake? No one ever told me about cake!” Carlos replied with just as much urgency. “But will you at least help me carry the flowers to the car, since it’s your fault that they’re so big?”

Seb laughed and picked up one side of the basket. “Of course,” he said, and they carried the bouquet out into the East High parking lot together with dumb grins plastered across their faces.

#hsmtmts #seblos #carlos rodriguez #frankie rodriguez #seb matthew smith #joe serafini

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t0ngue-tech · 5 years

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All Yours | Seven

“’Was I not enough for you…?’

Seolhyun parted her lips but hesitated to say anything. She also dropped her head, possibly trying to get everything in her mind organized.

‘Yoongi, I’m so sorry.’ She said sadly.”

↠fluff, angst, universityAU↞

word count: 4.5k

↠series: 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | ↞

A/N: yall idk what’s gotten into me. i literally just uploaded a story and here i am with the update of all yours lmao. tbh ive also been working on this chapter for a while so tyj i finished it huhu. enjoy ^-^

“Come on, Yoongi. Just text her.” You stood in front of your mirror and adjusted your hoodie.

From the moment you woke up, had a cup of coffee, took a shower, and changed into an outfit, Yoongi spent the entire time debating if he really wanted to text Seolhyun. You agreed to go with him to see her because it was his stipulation, but he was the one hesitating.

“You know what, maybe I don’t need closure. It’s all good.” Yoongi placed his phone on your nightstand and laid back down.

“Ugh. Yoongs.” You grumbled and strode over to sit beside him. “Sure you may not need closure, but I know deep down you want to talk about your feelings. You don’t deserve to be cheated on—nobody does. Please text her.”

Yoongi glared at you for a few seconds before he softened his eyes. He mumbled something along the lines of I hate it when you’re right and reached for his phone but took a detour to grab your hand first.

“So, you promise you’re going to come with me? You’re not going to flake out?” He kept his eyes on your fingers as you lazily grazed the back of his hand.

Could he get any more adorable?

“I promise.” You replied earnestly. “But I start work at three today, so keep that in mind.”

Yoongi squeezed your hand and locked eyes with you. Never in your life did you ever picture yourself to be in this position. He held your hands before, mainly to guide you around places when you were extremely drunk but nothing like this. Yoongi had a sweet look in his eye with a smile to match and you were so sure you were dreaming. Yoongi was perfect. Why would Seolhyun want to cheat on him in the first place?

“Okay. Now, go to class.” Yoongi lifted your hand and kissed it. Your cheeks flared a bit and you probably failed to hide the disappointment in him not kissing you on your lips instead.

“Fine. But go outside and take a walk,” you gave him your dorm key. “You need some sunlight.”

After listening to Yoongi’s bullshit excuse about how sunlight was never necessary for him in the first place, you left his side to slip on your sneakers.

Why can’t time just fast forward to later? I just want Yoongi and Seolhyun to meet already so it can all be over with and done. How am I supposed to even focus in class?!

“Wait.”

Yoongi’s voice broke your thoughts and you stood up from your floor. He scooped you by your waist to press your body against his before stealing a long kiss on your lips. You felt your entire body relax and you clutched onto his nape to support yourself.

“You may have more knowledge about people’s behaviors and shit, but I know you well enough that you were waiting for that, right?” Yoongi said with a smirk after breaking the kiss. Your face bloomed crimson and you playfully shoved him a few inches away from you.

“Bye, Yoongi.” You walked away from him with bliss coursing through you and just before you stepped out of your dorm, you caught the satisfied grin on Yoongi’s face.

↠↞

I will die in this developmental psychology class, I swear.

Time in your psychology class always ticked on like you had nothing else planned for the day. You jotted down chicken scratch notes, promising yourself to fix them up when you had time later; thank goodness your professor put up the lecture slides at 7pm on the same day of class. You began to mindlessly doodle at the bottom of your paper.

So many things could go wrong later.

Three stick figures were drawn at the bottom; one with a crude drawing of a beanie, one with hair just below its “shoulders”, and one with long hair blacked out with your pen. You drew scribbles of symbols around the drawing of the figure with long hair indicating how pissed off Seolhyun would be if she saw you two together.

Ugh. I can hear her voice now.

“Why did you bring her?”

“Unless you were cheating on me first!”

You scribbled all over the drawing and turned over the page.

The same stick figures were drawn at the top this time and instead of symbols, you drew tears coming from the figure with long hair and hearts around the beanie figure; Seolhyun would be in tears, apologizing and begging Yoongi for forgiveness and he would play right into her and fall in love all over again.

This time, you fiercely scribbled over the drawing.

Nope. Nope. Nope. Nope. Nope.

Like clockwork, you drew the stick figures. Hearts were drawn around the beanie and medium haired figures while the last one had a giant X covering its face; Seolhyun is completely cut out of the picture and forced to watch how lovey-dovey you and Yoongi were.

This drawing caused your face to heat up a little. There was no way Yoongi would show any affection towards you in front of her because he wasn’t the type to purposely make matters worse.

One last time the figures were drawn back onto your paper and this time, you drew speech bubbles with squiggly lines inside that ended with periods and a few exclamation points. The most likely scenario would be a calm conversation with a few outbursts between Yoongi and Seolhyun. The last thing anyone would want is making a huge scene in front of everyone—

Wait, I don’t even know where they’re meeting!

[10:32] You: hey, where are you two going to have this conversation anyway??????????

Yoongi’s reply came through like lightning.

[10:33] Yoongz: You know the benches outside of the library?

[10:33] Yoongz: There.

Great. We’re going to be in public…

His texts didn’t stop there.

[10:35] Yoongz: I told her to meet me at 11:15 so that you have time to be here before she comes.

[10:35] Yoongz: I’ll be wearing the light brown coat you gave me for my birthday and the blue beanie you hate so much

[10:36] Yoongz: You’ll be able to find me pretty easily.

That damn beanie.

The mental image of Yoongi in the blue beanie made you snicker, but you quickly cleared your throat realizing you were in class laughing to yourself like an idiot.

[10:40] You: okay. i’ll see you then

[10:40] You: fuk that beanie doe omfg.

↠↞

“So you’re seriously going to be there? With Yoongi and Seolhyun? Possibly arguing in front of you? Right in front of your salad?!”

Walking to the library, you gave Hani a quick call to update her with everything that had happened since you told her about Seolhyun cheating on Yoongi.

“Yes, right in front of my salad.” You laughed. “To be honest, I’m kind of scared. Like why did Yoongi have to say he kissed me! Actually… I don’t know what would be worse, her knowing the truth or his lie.”

“Either way she’s going to raise hell, but if you need me, you call and I’ll come running!”

You smiled softly. Hani was serious in the most endearing way possible.

“I know—” Yoongi’s blue beanie stood out at a table underneath one of the large trees. “Yoongi’s there. I’ll call you later Hani or better yet, I work at three so you can come to the coffee shop anytime after that and I’ll update you on what happens.”

“Okay. Be safe. I love you!”

“I love you, too.”

You took a deep breath and approached Yoongi who had two cups of coffee and two sandwiches sitting in front of him. As much as you hated that damn beanie, he still looked as handsome as ever.

“Hi, Yoongs.” You smiled.

Yoongi instantly smiled at the sight of you. “Hey—no, sit by me.” He reached for your hand to stop you from sitting across from him and tugged you over to sit beside him instead.

The action startled you and almost made you lose your footing, but Yoongi supported you by the waist to let you sit down without injury.

“Th-Thanks.” You stuttered.

“Oh, here you go by the way.” He handed you a paper gift bag that he probably stole from your closet. “You left your work shirt and shoes. There’s also a water bottle in here because you need actual hydration and not just coffee swimming throughout your bloodstream.”

Everything he mentioned was sitting neatly inside the bag and your smile was impossible to hide. You’ve been nervous and jittery about meeting with Seolhyun that you completely forgot about your work clothes. Yoongi was a life saver.

“Thank you, Yoongi.” You breathed.

“Of course. Now eat, you didn’t even have breakfast this morning.”

As you had brunch, you spent the time complaining to Yoongi about how developmental psychology makes you want to jab multiple pens in your eyes. He argued that you say that about every class you have and even flicked your forehead.

“You’re doing great though, so keep on keepin’ on.” Yoongi rubbed the spot he flicked with the pad of his thumb.

You felt the weight of your school work elevate at the touch of his finger. Yoongi had the power to relieve any stress that you had in the palm of his hand and it amazed you. Maybe this was just the effect of you being whipped for him for almost a year. It sounded pathetic, but you enjoyed it nonetheless.

“A-hem.”

Both you and Yoongi tore your eyes away from each other to find Seolhyun standing at the opposite side of the table with her arms folded across her chest. Her eyebrows were furrowed and daggers shot from her eyes right into your own. The aura that came off of her was no less than intimidating and you felt as if your soul left your body.

Fuck.

↠↞

“What is she doing here?!” Seolhyun barked as she took a seat.

“I asked her to come so just leave her be.” Yoongi spat.

You silently observed Seolhyun’s outfit; she wore a casual black dress that stopped above mid-thigh and had a deep v-neck line. A cream cardigan hugged her frame and she even made time to put on makeup and curl your hair. If your suspicions were correct, she dressed that way on purpose to use her looks to win back Yoongi somehow. Seolhyun was honestly gorgeous which made you nervous. What if it reeled him back in?

She cleared her throat again and avoided eye contact with Yoongi. “Thank you for meeting with me.” Her voice grew softer and softer towards the end of her sentence and she fiddled with the ends of her hair. This gave off a vulnerable look, almost “cute”.

“Okay.” Yoongi said sharply.

The tension in the air was suffocating and all you wanted to do was run away, but Yoongi kept his hand on your knee underneath the table to keep you at bay.

“So? Anything else you need to say?” Yoongi kept the same tone of voice, annoyed. He truly didn’t want to be here.

“Sigh. I’m sorry okay? God, can we just talk without you being mad at me?!” Seolhyun raised her voice a bit.

“Of course I’m mad! How the hell am I supposed to be feeling? You cheated on me!” Yoongi raised his voice as well and you were even more nervous. You three were sitting in public with students walking by and you were praying to God that everyone was just minding their own business.

“Y-You cheated on me too! You—!” She pointed at him. “—kissed her!” Her finger was now on you.

Yoongi furrowed his brows and squeezed your knee. “Alright, fine. I kissed her once and like I said, I knew I had to tell you because I was feeling so fucking guilty about what I did. You were my girlfriend, Seolhyun! I had to be honest with you.”

Seolhyun tightly pursed her lips together, probably stopping herself from saying anything else.

“How…” Yoongi breathed. “How long have you been…”

Your eyes softened at the sight of Yoongi faltering. He didn’t want to say it. You reached beneath the table to hold that had that was on top of your knee. Instantly, you watched his shoulders relax.

“Um…” Seolhyun chewed on her bottom lip and picked at the skin around her nails. “Just-Just once..”

Bullshit.

“Don’t you think Yoongi deserves a lot more honesty that?” You boldly questioned. Talking was never part of your agenda, but it’s true, he deserved to know the truth after tearing himself apart from agonizing over his self-worth.

“Excuse me?” Seolhyun stared you down and you couldn’t back down no matter how much you wanted to.

“I–I don’t think you’re telling him the truth.” You tried to sound confident, but your stutter gave it away.

Seolhyun scoffed and crossed her arms. “Who do you think you—”

“She’s right. I don’t think you’re telling me the truth either.” Yoongi interjected. “For Seung Ho to talk to y/n about our situation kind of shows how close you two really are.”

“My thoughts exactly.” You said softly.

Seolhyun aggressively scratched the back of her head. “Ugh. Two months!” She blurted out. “Two-fucking-months! There’s the truth! Happy now?”

Your eyes widened then turned to Yoongi who was looking in Seolhyun’s direction with an empty expression. After remaining quiet for about a minute, a low chuckle pushed past his lips.

“Is that why we’ve been fighting so much lately?” There were hints of both sadness and anger in his tone. “This was why you’ve been so short with me? You would cut our dates short—it was because you would rendezvous with Seung Ho?”

“Y-Yoongi.” You whispered and gently rubbed the back of his hand, trying to calm him down.

“Do you know what the fuck I’ve been going through because of this?! I continuously questioned what I was doing wrong—was I not making you happy anymore? Did I do something to piss you off? Was I not buying you enough flowers on the weekends? Altering my class schedule to match yours wasn’t enough? Skipping class to spend time with you? I talked my friends’ ears off trying to figure out why I didn’t seem important in your eyes anymore…” Yoongi kept his head down and squeezed your hand to the point where his nails could draw blood from your skin. “Was I not enough for you…?”

Seolhyun parted her lips but hesitated to say anything. She also dropped her head, possibly trying to get everything in her mind organized.

“Yoongi, I’m so sorry.” She said sadly.

For the first time in a while, she sounded genuine.

“You were enough for me, but I—I guess… I guess I was being selfish and I wanted more.” Seolhyun lifted her eyes in search of Yoongi’s but he still kept his head down.

“You could’ve told me.” Yoongi choked out. “You could’ve talked to me about how you were feeling and maybe—maybe things could’ve worked out.”

It was your turn to lower your head. This was truly an issue between Yoongi and Seolhyun. There was no reason for you to inject yourself into the conversation anymore.

“Is there any way we could work past this?” Seolhyun asked.

Yoongi finally met her eyes. “No. No way in hell.”

He fumbled with your hand to let go and reached into his pocket to pull out his keyring and wallet. He detached Seolhyun’s dorm key and pulled out a polaroid photo of her from inside his wallet. “Here. I don’t need these anymore.”

Yoongi reached back underneath the table in search of your hand and you stealthy met him halfway.

“Please. Just go, Seolhyun. We’re done here.” Yoongi said firmly.

Seolhyun sat there for a couple seconds and then reached forward to retrieve her belongings. As she stood up from the table, she kept her eyes on Yoongi hoping he would say something else, but he remained silent. Shortly after, Seolhyun took her leave without Yoongi sparing her a single glance.

↠↞

Even with the hustle and bustle of students walking all over campus, the world had never been so quiet. Yoongi had his head down, face buried in the crook of his elbow while still holding onto your hand. You weren’t sure when was the best time to speak, so you kept quiet waiting for him to break the silence first.

It almost physically hurt staring at Yoongi. He had been bottling up so many painful emotions to the point where it almost consumed him. He didn’t deserve to go through this.

“Y/n?” Yoongi finally spoke, but the rest of his sentence was muffled behind his coat sleeve.

“I-I’m sorry, Yoongi. I can’t really hear you.”

“Thank you for coming with me.” He turned his head and made heavy eye contact with you. “Saying all those things… I don’t think I would've been able to do it on my own, but you being here gave me strength to do so.”

His words caused a noticeable blush to form on your cheeks. He chuckled and sat up straight to tuck a few of your hairs behind your ears.

“I think you have enough time left to get to your next class from here. I’ll walk you.” Yoongi lifted you up by your arm and you almost didn’t want to go to class. All you wanted was to sit around and hold his hand all day. The thought of that made you blush even more and this made Yoongi laugh a little harder. “What’s the matter with you? Come on.”

Unfortunately, Yoongi didn’t hold your hand when he walked you to class. This was probably because it felt too soon to do so in public. It’s not like he and Seolhyun were the campus couple, but people might get the wrong idea if they knew they were dating.

After the whole thing with Yoongi and Seolhyun, it made it even harder for you to concentrate. Now that they were broken up, who knows if Yoongi still had anymore underlying feelings for her. They were together for a year, so there had to be some leftover right? Plus, Yoongi made a comment the other night about how he thought about why you kissed him and that he “figured it out.” This meant a whole new conversation, a whole new reason to be nervous.

Fucking great.

This was a conversation you weren’t looking forward to. You needed to prepare yourself somehow, but it seemed like no matter how much you could mentally prepare yourself, you still wouldn’t be ready. After knowing Yoongi for roughly a little over two years and falling for him like an idiot, never in your life did you imagine him finding out about how you felt about him.

You would be lying to yourself if you said you weren’t even a little happy. You kissed Yoongi, held his hand, and even shared a bed with him with your feelings unknowingly exposed in the air. It made you giddy; butterflies roaming around in your stomach, fighting the urge to smile whenever you thought about him. If only the circumstances were different, life would’ve been near perfect for you.

Class dragged on, notes were written down, doodles were drawn, and next thing you knew, you were tying your work apron around your waist.

“Where’s Yoongi? He didn’t walk you here?” Seokjin asked.

“Nah. His energy gauge was pretty much empty by the time he was done talking with Seolhyun so he decided to just nap for a few hours.”

“Okay, so, what’s the tea?” Seokjin stood near you, eagerly waiting for you to tell him all the juicy details.

You playfully shoved him away and walked over to the espresso machine. “I’m not saying anything until Hani gets here.”

“Aw, come on, y/n. She won’t be here till like five or something!”

You chuckled to yourself and continued to ignore all of Seokjin’s pleads for information.

The moment Hani walked through the coffee shop doors, the first words she shouted was “okay bitch, bring forth the tea!”—this was said with a shop full of students. You were immediately put on the spot, but Hani’s intentions meant well.

You made sure to include all details of the confrontation when you told Seokjin and Hani about it. You also made sure to keep your voice low because you weren’t sure who knew Seolhyun, Yoongi, or even Seung Ho. This wasn’t your story to tell, but both Hani and Seokjin were there from the beginning so it seemed fitting for them to know it all too.

Evening came just as quickly as your shift started. Hani didn’t mean to stay so late, but she got pretty invested in the situation between Seolhyun and Yoongi. Both you and Seokjin did his best to keep all of Hani’s reactions at bay, but you had to admit, it was entertaining. At least she was nice enough to help the coffee shop employees close up.

“Wouldn’t your knight in shining armor show up by now?” Hani joked.

“You need to relax—oh, bye!” You chuckled and threatened her with a broomstick and waved two of your co-workers who were heading out.

“It’s true, y/n. He’s supposed to waltz in here and be like ‘my lady, I have arrived. Your chariot awaits.’” Seokjin pranced around the room and even bowed and took your hand in his.

“And by ‘chariot’, you mean his legs right? Because the dorms are within walking distance?” You laughed.

“Well, yes, b-but anyways let me finish,” Seokjin cleared his throat. “So your knight in shining armor swoops in—” he went from holding your hand to picking you up bridal style. “—picks you up and saves you from the dungeon aka the coffee shop! And then Yoongi says—”

“Seokjin, what in zakum’s name are you doing?”

At the mention of his name coming from behind him, Seokjin froze in his tracks and turned around to find Yoongi staring at him with a questionable look.

“I—uh—” Seokjin panicked, almost dropping you on the floor but he still managed to place you back on your feet. “Alrighty-roo, well, Hani—babe, shall we take our leave?”

All Hani could do was laugh until her stomach hurt and Seokjin dragged her out of the coffee shop by her hand; she laughed so much that she could barely properly say bye to you and Yoongi.

“Do I even want to know?” Yoongi asked hesitantly.

“No, you really don’t.”

Yoongi helped you flip up the chairs onto the table while you continued to sweep the floor. As you two cleaned up, you proceeded to tell him about your day and apologized for telling Seokjin and Hani what happened in the afternoon. He brushed it off because he also trusted them.

Unlike your busy day, Yoongi spent his entire day eating, sleeping, and watching netflix; he exaggerated that it was a packed schedule. He even mentioned that Seolhyun still tried to call and text him, but he ignored every single attempt.

“You know, I think she dressed up that way today to lure you back to her with her looks.” You confessed.

“Huh. You think so?” Yoongi walked behind the counter where you were wiping around the sink.

You shrugged your shoulders. “Yeah, I mean, it’s been pretty cold lately and she shows up in an outfit that could barely keep her warm. She curled her hair, put on makeup, like why is doing all of that necessary to meet up with you? It seems so—what?”

Yoongi was just staring at you with a smirk plastered on his face. “Were you worried that it was going to work?”

A blush bloomed on your cheeks. “N-No. I just think it was ridiculous, that’s all.”

He stepped closer and stood behind you, placing his hands on the metal countertop to cage you in between his arms.

“You know, you observe others pretty well but from my observations from knowing you, you kind of suck at lying.” Yoongi laughed and you forced a chuckle out. You weren’t going to even deny it.

From the counter, Yoongi lifted his hands to secure them around your waist, hugging you from behind. You made a few attempts to move around to clean the counter properly, but he remained.

“Yoongi, I have to clean.” You chuckled.

“Just—” He briefly let you go to spin you around so he could hug you from the front. “Five minutes. Let’s stay like this for five minutes, please.”

It was such a genuine request, how could you say no?

Yoongi was leaning into you with his face buried in the crook of your neck. You had your arms lazily slung around his shoulders and just listened to his faint breathing. The blonde tips of his hair tickled your nose a bit, so you gently slide your hand across his nape to brush down his hair. He hugged you tighter at your sudden action and sighed.

“You’re really going to touch me like that, y/n?” The teasing tone in his voice was enough to raise your temperature and cause a blush to appear on your cheeks.

“Y-Yoongi!” You tried to push him away, already feeling embarrassed, but he just continued to hold you.

“I’m kidding, I’m kidding.” Yoongi snickered. “It’s fine, keep touching my hair.”

You were still feeling embarrassed because that was the first time Yoongi used that tone of voice with you. Nonetheless, you listened and continued to stroke his hair. Thankfully he didn’t wear that awful beanie.

Yoongi didn’t say another word and every once in a while, he’d caress your back and readjust himself. Small sparks ignited at the simplest touch and for some reason you wanted to laugh. This was everything you wanted but it did confuse you as to how comfortable Yoongi was doing all of this to you. All you did was kiss him once and the next moment he’s acting as if you two were dating for years.

“Okay, I’m recharged. Continue your cleaning.” He emerged from your body and cupped your cheek. Even if you were the one embarrassed, Yoongi still had a hue of pink displayed at the tops of his cheeks.

For the next ten minutes, you swiftly cleaned up the stations and tossed out the garbage in the dumpster out back. Yoongi waited patiently and even gathered all of your things for you from the back room.

“So you’re opening tomorrow?” Yoongi asked whilst helping you adjust your hoodie.

“Sadly, yeah. So we can talk first then I’ll head straight to bed.”

“We can talk tomorrow, it’s fine. You need your rest.”

“B-But—”

Yoongi stole another kiss from you, probably to shut you up and it worked; it left you utterly speechless. You had to get used to this somehow.

“Tomorrow.” Yoongi whispered. “For now, let’s go home.”

Home?

There was no doubt that Yoongi was referring to your dorm as home since he stayed there the entire day. The idea of him considering your place as “home” gave you butterflies.

Home was a safe sanctuary. Home was a place where someone can easily unravel themselves to be at peace. Home was where the heart was and Yoongi was there with you.

“Yeah.” You blushed. “Let’s go home.”

♡ rae jagi

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fanfic-scribbles · 5 years

Text

Lunch Buddy: Chapter Seven

Masterlist

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Overall Story Facts:

Fandom: MCU Captain America/Avengers

Story Summary: Steve Rogers makes a friend. A prickly, generally people-averse friend, but they’ll both take what they can get.

Quick Facts: Friendship (/Eventual Romance) – Steve Rogers & Reader (leading to Steve Rogers/Reader) – Female Reader

Story Warnings: Reader-insert that verges on OFC, written in 1st person past tense

Chapter 7: Bi Association

Chapter Summary: An accidental assumption leads to an emotional conversation. Being disasters is both a good and terrible thing to have in common.

Chapter Warnings: Talk of coming out, mentions of homophobia, mentions of past Steve/Bucky and past Steve/Peggy

Chapter Word Count: 3669

A/N: So at the beginning of the story I warned Reader/OFC is very definitely bisexual and that really comes into play here. I think this chapter was one of the ones that pushed me to keep OFC as an option for this story because coming out (or not) is a really personal thing. ‘Not all bi folk’ and whatnot. Otherwise, please enjoy these two doofs being terrible with real actual Emotions.

Job hunting was annoying, but surprisingly fruitful.

“Are you sure everything’s all right?” Steve asked.

“Yeah. Why?” I asked and looked at him.

“Your playlists are a little…” He gave the next word a lot of thought. “…Heavy. Lately.”

Poor sweet summer child, I thought. Apparently Lamb of God had taught him nothing. “You said you like Rise Against.”

“I do.”

“So we’re branching out,” I said and went back to my doodling. “Slowly but surely, we’ll get you to branch out even more.”

“I guess– wait. ‘Slowly?’”

“How about you?” I asked, focused on my crummy little tree. “You’ve been a little out of it this week.”

I thought he’d brush me off. Instead I got silence. I lifted my head again and did a double-take at the way he stared at…well, nothing that I could see. After a few seconds he shook it off– literally. “It’s nothing. I’m fine,” he said. “Don’t you have to go soon?”

I frowned at him. “If you don’t want to talk about it it’s okay; you don’t have to–” I caught sight of my phone and the clock numbers thereon. I jumped up. “Fuck!”

“I’m just trying to help,” he said calmly, and he held onto the rickety table while I threw my shit together. “It seems like you’re more reluctant to go back to work these days.”

Of course he noticed. But then, it was hard to be subtle when I dreaded ever seeing my boss in fear of him asking about how ‘It’ was going. I sighed, slung my bag on my shoulder, and faced Steve. “Work is…work. It gets like this sometimes.” I shrugged like it was nothing. “So if you’re ever looking for someone willing to be chucked at an evil alien or something…”

“I have your number,” he said, smiling at me, and I saluted and ran out.

There wasn’t much smiling over the next few days. For either of us. On at least two of those days I was setting up follow-ups and moping about being rejected from the perfect job. And on a day after that I went through most of my lunch break before I noticed that I had hardly spoken to Steve at all.

I then noticed that he was abnormally silent. He sat with his back even closer to the wall and had his sketchbook tilted up so that he was ensconced in his own little world. I watched him for a while. He ignored me and showed an unnerving lack of emotion. No concentrated frown or unhappy scowl, just…nothing.

“Hey,” I said gently. His hand slowed to a stop and after a deep breath he looked at me. Under such a dead stare I almost floundered– was it really my business?– but I managed to spit out, “Are you…okay?”

I should have asked him how he was but that was a mistake I realized too late. “Yes. I’m fine,” he said and went back to his dead-faced drawing.

I didn’t know how to follow up and it was very blatant that he didn’t want me to, so I went to put my second earbud in.

“But…thanks for asking.”

I hesitated but Steve showed no physical sign of having said anything. But just the words, even flat as they were, made me breathe a sigh of relief as I put my headphones in. Something was better than nothing.

We went through the same routine for the next several days. The next time I came in after that, though, he was sitting with a book, his sketchpad shut and sitting next to him, and at least an inch between his back and the wall.

Still, I was wary. “Hey,” I said as I sat down.

“Hi.”

He sounded…not normal, but not bad. Not exactly. Distant, sort of, in a way that I didn’t know if talking to him would be bothering him. But then his eyes flicked up and I tried to think of something to say. An apology for staring would have been nice, but a coherent string of non-creepy words didn’t make it from my brain to my mouth.

“I, um…” I held back a sigh and tried to think, damn it. It took me a bit but Steve waited patiently for me to spit it out. “I know I keep asking how you’re doing, and I-I don’t want to be annoying, so I’m– I’m fine to keep asking, if that’s okay with you, but…but it’s okay if you don’t want me to keep asking. I won’t be offended.”

He gave that some thought. “Is it selfish that I like being asked even though I don’t really want to answer?” he said at last.

“Personally I don’t think so,” I said. “But I also don’t think it’s bad to be a little selfish sometimes.” If he did, I didn’t know why in the world he ever associated with me.

His smile was small and sad. “I’m more selfish than most people want to believe.”

“Everyone is,” I said. “I know it might not be comforting, but…at least you're not alone?”

“In some ways,” he said, staring at his sketchbook. He rested his hand on it, slightly curved and gentle fingertips moving over it with short, light, absent strokes.

I was curious but I didn’t want to ask. Well, not directly. “Are you working on a project?”

He glanced at me and then looked back down at it. And kept looking.

“If you want to tell me to butt out–”

“I don’t.”

I shut up. Steve looked around the shop like he was checking for lurkers and eavesdroppers, but there was no one even close that I could see. He beckoned me to come closer so I hopped over to the chair next to him and scooted in.

He opened up his book to a portrait that was downright breathtaking. A man’s face was lovingly rendered in a mix of pencil and ink, and while the style was similar to Steve’s other drawings, it was so incredibly different just in the obvious amount of time and care spent on it.

“James Buchanan Barnes,” Steve murmured, moving his hand to rest right next to the sly smile and fondly shining eyes. “Bucky. He was…my best friend; he was…”

The thing was– I was not completely ignorant of Steve’s past. He had been a very important figure in history: medical miracle, war hero, and walking tragedy. He had never caught my attention because the textbooks always made him sound so noble and red-blooded American male and boring. But I’d had a classmate-kind-of-friend who had been obsessed with him for a period of time and so I knew some things just by osmosis.

I had thought that, at least, but I really should have considered the source that information had come from. Anything school had fed me had gone in one ear and out the other but my sorta-friend had, at one point, gotten my attention with an aside about Steve likely being involved with his ‘best friend’ Bucky. I hadn’t thought much of it at the time beyond ‘good for him’ but years of being (lurking) in certain communities on the internet had really made it seem like a true-but-generally-unspoken thing. That, and the fact that he had said nothing because he was too busy stroking the drawing, made it pretty damn clear to me.

So I thought nothing of it when I tried to fill in the blank with, “Your boyfriend?”

It was…the absolute wrong thing to say.

Steve’s head snapped up and his face changed through expressions almost too fast to name– shock was one, anger was another, then–

“What did you say?”

His voice was not stern, or scolding, or panicked. It was…chilling. I didn’t know what the hell to make of it, but it scared me. I couldn’t even swallow, my mouth was so dry. “I–I’m sorry; I didn’t–”

He leaned in close. I leaned back, but I could only go so far. “Where did you hear that?” he said low and glanced around the room.

I became vaguely aware of the world around us and, thankfully, we were completely unnoticed. I breathed a sigh of relief but I still felt shaky. The guy could give a death stare like no one’s business. “It’s okay, no one heard–”

“Where?!”

I didn’t know how to answer that, though I scrambled to try, only to be cut off by the buzzing alarm on my phone. I cringed and tried to shut it up. I’d rather be late for my crappy job than leave things like this. “I– S-so I–”

“Go.”

Steve’s voice was dispassionate and calm and he sat back in his seat. He kept his eyes on the table and his hand lay flat on the sketchbook’s cover. I was frozen, stunned by his coldness, but he ignored me. I packed up, feeling sick and miserable, but before I left I stopped and tried to apologize. He glared at me with eyes that looked full of hurt, so I tucked my tail between my legs and ran.

It was evening and I was just settling in to be sad and pathetic and rue the day I ever spoke to anyone ever when my phone alerted me to a message. Only one person texted me without calling first, and after going through my work day in a state of constant near-tears while I replayed that moment over and over in my head, I was too fucking tired to deal with him just yet.

My phone buzzed again though. And again. On the way off-chance that it was my boss with a work emergency, I reached out from the Blanket Pit of Misery to grab my phone from the coffee table. I almost wished it was my boss when I saw Steve’s name.

However.

Steve: This is going to sound forward Steve: But can I come over? Steve: Or can you come to my place

I raised both eyebrows. Thankfully, the next parts came quick.

Steve: I’m sorry for today Steve: And this conversation shouldn’t happen in text Steve: Or public

I sat up and stared at the screen. On one hand: ‘I’m sorry’. On the other hand: an in-person conversation. Ugh.

Me: I don’t want to fight

His response was immediate and came in a flood.

Steve: We won’t Steve: I promise Steve: I didn’t mean it; I panicked Steve: And I’m sure you already figured out why Steve: But I need to explain it Steve: Please

I was really tired. But I knew that panic.

Me: How the hell do you text so fast

I sent him my address and spent his travel time trying not to freak out. When he knocked, I started to freak out about the mess. I shoved the blankets to the corner of the couch and grabbed empty cups to dump in the kitchen sink on my way to the door. I then stood there for a second to give myself a once-over– lounging clothes, but clean, and I was mostly decent, so I opened the door before I could chicken out. Steve’s eyes were cast down and he was hunched over into his usual brown leather jacket. He lifted his head in my general direction but didn’t really look at me but for occasional glances. He looked about how I felt.

“I guess misery doesn’t love company,” he said lightly.

I rolled my eyes and stepped back so he could step in. “You're not nearly sadistic enough to know,” I said and shut the door behind him. “Do you want something to drink?”

“No thanks. I think I’m going to throw up.”

I had been going to the fridge but at that I stopped and turned to face him. Steve was still hunched and seemed to be shrinking more with every second. I took a step forward and stopped when he flinched. “Hey,” I said gently. “It’s not the 40’s anymore; I’m not going to turn you in.”

“Don’t joke about that,” he muttered.

“I’m not!”

I hadn’t meant to be so loud– even Steve looked surprised enough to have a spark of life again. But he was standing up and I had his attention, so I ran with it. “I wasn’t making a joke of it before and I’m not making a joke of it now,” I said, because I had to make him understand. Somehow.

“I know you weren't joking before.” He fell back onto the couch, which creaked. “It made it…worse.”

I opened my mouth but he held up his hand. I waited, but when he took longer to compose himself I slowly walked over and perched on the edge of the other end of the couch. I felt so stiff I probably would have been more comfortable if I had remained standing, but the silence was so absolute that getting up would be too disruptive.

“Some people knew,” he said, so softly that I leaned in closer on instinct. He raised his voice a little. “Nobody talked about it. Ever. We were…as careful as you possibly could be when you love someone that much.”

He didn’t look at me. I didn’t move. I wanted to…reach out, put an arm around him, do something, but I didn’t know if we were quite there yet. Or if he was okay with being touched at all.

“Peggy definitely knew,” Steve said, staring at the floor but obviously not staring at the floor. “And after Bucky…fell…she–”

Steve turned his face away and wiped it. I scooted closer and put my hand on his arm. He didn’t pull away, so I stayed, but I was stock-still, afraid that if I moved an inch in either direction he’d push or pull or run.

He faced forward again with a dry face and his throat pulsed with his swallow. “I loved her too,” Steve said. “I could have– if I had made it out, we could have been happy, you know?” His smile was sad and wistful and his eyes shone just a little too bright. “I like to think so, anyway. Peggy was never disturbed by it. Sometimes even made some comments that, I think, if we had all made it out…”

He shook his head and got to his feet. “Bisexual,” he blurted out. He kept his back to me and barely glanced back. “I like that; it– it suits me. I think.” He turned to face me. “But I’m not…out. Obviously.”

I nodded. My heart was racing and the more he stared at me the harder it hit my chest, the harder it was to say something. But he took a slow step back, said, “Sorry, I shouldn’t have–” and then he stared to leave and I couldn’t, I couldn’t leave that there. No matter what it meant for me.

“I’m not out either!”

He stopped right at the door. I was almost not breathing when he looked at me sharply, but apparently having very obvious heart failure attested to my earnestness, because his eyes widened and his hand slipped from the knob. I swallowed and sympathized with how he’d had such a hard time with it. I felt like I was swallowing an egg-sized rock. But then he was utterly silent, so I asked, “Well? Does misery love company now?”

He flinched. “That’s not something to be miserable about.”

I shrugged, because that was easy to say, wasn’t it? He shifted from one foot to the other and looked extremely uncomfortable. It took me a moment to realize why that might be. “Yes,” I said and he nearly jumped. “We can be closeted bi besties.”

“I didn’t…mean to make you come out. I just–” He ran his hands over his face and through his hair. “I’m sorry. I’m a mess right now.”

“Just right now?” I asked. He actually made a sound that was kind of like a laugh. I sighed. I felt almost completely drained, but at least the hard part was done and over. “Take off your jacket and sit down,” I said and went to the fridge. “I don’t want you to break down in a cab or something.”

“I drove.” But Steve shrugged off his jacket and threw it on the coffee table as he sat back on the couch. “Motorcycle.”

“Even worse.” I brought back two water bottles and set one in front of him before I dropped onto the cushion right next to him. “I’m not gonna be the last person to see you before you wrap yourself around a pole.”

“I’d survive it.”

That was way too flippant and I couldn’t be trusted to touch it without also getting darker than I felt comfortable with. “Well, I’m sure you have a nice bike that doesn’t deserve that.”

We both sat in awkward silence. He picked at the paper wrapping and I chewed on the bottle rim, occasionally consuming some water by accident just because the damn thing was so full. “I’m sorry,” Steve said quietly. “That could have gone better.”

I put the bottle down. “Coming out is always awkward.”

“Even for you?” he asked and lowered his voice for, “Even now?”

“There’s always going to be someone, always,” I said. “And some that do it because, uh…they care, and they think it’s safer if you just… But– the times I’ve come out, I don’t regret it. Even when it blew up in my face. I never– I just don’t trust people, and sometimes I’m scared of what that makes me, of how detached I get, in the interest of keeping myself safe. I’m glad that, sometimes, even I can still trust people. Even if it’s just a little bit.”

I didn’t really expect anything, but of everything, I really didn’t expect Steve to turn his body and hug me so suddenly I went “oof!” He didn’t hold tight though, so I crossed my arm over to my shoulder to pat his hands awkwardly. And then, because he was hugging from my side and I couldn’t really return the gesture, I slipped my other arm around his back.

“Me too,” he said and let me go. “I’m…glad you can trust me with that.”

“Same,” I said. “Even if it was unintentional. I’m sorry; even if I was right I shouldn’t have said it like that. I know how that heart attack feels, so– I’m sorry.”

“I forgive you,” he said. He still sounded utterly miserable though.

I nudged him. “I promise I won’t say anything. It’s no one’s fucking business, right?”

He breathed. “In theory,” he said. He lifted his head and stared at nothing. “I’m going to have to make it be, though.”

Considering the guy couldn’t come out to defenseless old ‘tries not to talk to anyone else ever’ me without freaking the fuck out, coming out to the world seemed like a leap. “Why?”

He didn’t answer at first; he just sat there clenching his jaw so hard I was afraid he’d break his teeth. Then he stood up and paced, but from the marching motions it didn’t look like it helped much. Granted, my apartment was only so big and he couldn’t get a good stomp going, but still.

“I wasn’t going to,” he said and stopped. “I thought I could get around it, brush off interview questions and just act stupid. But then…” The muscles in his neck rippled with his swallow. “I was talking to this kid one week. They were so sweet, and they had a– a rainbow flag pin on their bag. I wanted to compliment it, but they saw me looking and covered it up. Then they made some excuse and left.”

He just stood there, but when I tugged at his shirt he plopped right down next to me. “They didn’t want to know,” I said softly, because as much as it sucked for him, I could really sympathize with that kid.

“And I hate it,” Steve spat like he was full of bile. “I hate trying to skirt those questions, I hate that the people who would have beaten me to death before the war look at me like they think I’m on their side; I hate that anybody like me is afraid to ask anything other than ‘are you okay that I exist.’” He sighed. “Most of all, I hate that I’m such a fucking coward I haven’t just said it yet. I need to, for my own sanity, but it’s…terrifying.”

I wished there was something I could say, something smart, or comforting, or even just kind. However I had a big load of nothing, so I just kept my arm around him and hoped it was enough that I was there. I hoped that he knew I understood.

He sat there, silent, but he didn’t leave, and eventually I got an idea. “Hey,” I said and got up. “Since you’re here, come on; I’m gonna show you how to play a video game.”

He didn’t protest, and even let me tug and shove him around until he was sitting on the edge of my bed and holding the controller in his ridiculous bear paws. “Fuck, your hands are big,” I said and eyed them. Maybe this was a bad idea. “You’ve got a gentle touch, right?”

He looked at me and made his lips a flat line. “You’ve seen me use tablets and phones.”

“Okay, point,” I said and settled in as the system loaded.

“I mean, I broke a half dozen of each before I got the hang of it, but I’m sure it won’t take me that many this time.”

I glared at him and he smirked, the little shit. As the starting screen came up I sat back. “Well,” I said. “At least if you break my controller you won’t have to worry about that pesky ‘coming out’ bullshit.”

He laughed.

It was probably good that he thought I was joking.

<<Previous Chapter Next Chapter>>

#steve rogers x reader #steve rogers & reader #captain america fanfic #avengers fanfic #reader insert #lunch buddy

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hyunsracha · 6 years

Text

home — seo changbin

word count: 2.8k

summary: you hated everything about your school. even the stupid galas your best friend forced you to go to.

You hated your school.

You hated the long, winding hallways that led to dull, lifeless classrooms. You hated the grey courtyard, meant to give students a place to be free, but only made you feel more trapped.

More importantly, you hated the people. The teachers, people who didn’t care and only wanted you to pass so you could get out of their face.

And the students. Greedy, monstrous little demons who hold each other’s secrets like playing cards, ready to whip them out and ruin each other’s lives at any given moment.

You could only stand two people at your school, and one of them graduated last year. His name was Bang Chan, and he took you under your wing when you were a freshman, guiding you through the halls in a way that kept the hardwood floors from eating you alive.

And you did the same to Lee Felix the next year. He was a new freshman, and his shaking doe eyes made your heart cry. So you took him under your wing, showing him where to go and where not to go.

Chan made you tough, teaching you to stand up for yourself against the assholes on campus.

Felix made you soft, teaching you compassion and empathy for those other than yourself.

They meant everything to you, and you couldn’t really be bothered to deal with anyone else.

But now Chan was gone, and you were a senior, and Felix was a junior.

You always thought that your grim perspective would tear Felix apart, but two years later, he still glows like the sun.

Even when the two of you are sitting in the basement of the school, a cigarette between your lips as you doodle on your math homework.

“Y/N….are you even listening to me?” Felix whined, his brown eyes somehow still sparking under the shitty yellow lamp lighting.

“No, you know that.” You pulled the cigarette from your lips’ hold, exhaling smoke and raising your eyebrow at your friend.

“I was talking about the gala. They’re doing a super cheesy theme this year: Paris. Fun, right?”

You gagged, “Of course they would do something like that. Sounds awful.”

“But Y/N!,” Felix pouted, “We have to go! We go every year. And it’s my last year with you…”

“D-Don’t give me those eyes...Felix! Fine.” You sighed. Damn Felix and his stupidly pretty eyes.

You checked the time on your phone, a soft curse leaving your lips as you put out your cigarette. You were going to be late, and art was the only class you cared about.

You loved your art class. Your teacher didn’t really care what you drew, exclaiming that, “art is everything! Even your breath is art!” And you liked drawing; it was quite soothing. Plus, the teacher loved you and said that you works were “inspired,” so the ego boost is much appreciated.

You were feeling tired today, so your drawing was simple. Just made of pencil, you drew a bedroom scene. Of course, the bedroom was much nicer than your actual one at your house, and you would much rather be in your art’s room. You sketched a bed, big and warm. You sketched a nightstand, paintings on the walls, a dresser, etc.

Your teacher stood by your side, draping a comforting arm over your shoulders, “Missing home?”

Home. A funny little word. This bedroom you drew wasn’t home, and neither was your bedroom where you lived. You didn’t really have a home.

“Yeah. Just tired today.”

—

Felix was part of Anime Club. He had Anime Club every Tuesday and Thursday, so you spent Tuesday and Thursday afternoons sitting in the back of the classroom the Anime Club kids used, getting a quick power nap. Then you two would walk home together, the sounds of your shoes clacking against the hardwood floors making you even more tired.

“What are you gonna wear to the gala?” Felix asked, the faraway look in his eyes signaling his excitement.

“I dunno...clothes, I guess.”

“Nice clothes, Y/N.”

“Fine. Nice clothes, I guess.”

Felix lived three streets away from you, which you thought was weird because you had never seen him before he was a freshman. Those last three streets were your least favorite to walk through, because they brought you closer and closer to the place you didn’t want to be.

There was nothing wrong with your house. On the outside at least. It was quite pretty; it even had flowers in the front yard. But there was nothing growing on the inside.

The air inside your house was suffocating. Your throat felt clogged as you took your shoes off.

“Y/N.”

“Mom.”

“How was school?”

“Fine. How was work?”

“Fine.”

And you were in your room.

Your mom was never the same after your dad left.

You remember that day like it was yesterday.

You were seven years old. Your mom was out at work, so it was just you and your dad. He had spent the whole day coming in and out of the house, but you didn’t know why. You had been in your room, playing with your toys, so all you heard was the door. Around 3:00, he came into your room and scooped you up into his arms. His tears were wet in your hair.

“Daddy? What’s wrong? Why are you crying?” You had asked. He sat down on your bed, setting you on his lap.

“Y/N, you know I love you very much, right?”

You had giggled, “Yes, Daddy! Of course I know that!”

He kissed your forehead before setting you back on the ground, “I’m going out for a bit, okay?”

“Okay!”

And you never saw him again.

When your mom came home at 5:00 to a house without her husband, she had asked you where he went.

When you replied with, “Out,” she broke.

She spent days in her room after that, refusing any of the little snacks you brought her.

When she did finally come out, something had changed. She was much more reserved, and the light had drained from her eyes, almost like she was just a walking corpse.

When you were old enough, she explained to you why she was so sad all the time.

You never had crushes on boys after that.

Her job was hardly enough to keep you two afloat, so you sold a lot of things. Your house was almost bare, only having a couch and a tv on the floor. Your room was like that too, the only furniture being your bed and dresser. When you turned 16, you got a part-time job, and almost all of that money went to paying bills.

You flopped down on your bed, immediately curling under the blankets. You never really bothered with doing your homework. You’d just do it the next day and get an A on it. It was always like that with you.

—

Time passed quickly. Too quickly. Two weeks had already passed and it was time for the gala. You were dressed in the nicest outfit you owned. Felix had come home with you and raided your closet, claiming that you needed his fashion expertise.

“Why don’t you have any nice clothes?”

“Felix I have no money.”

“Well neither-”

“You live in a mansion, shut up.”

But you cleaned up nicely, at least that’s what Felix said. You also had to promise him that you wouldn’t smoke at all that night. He gave you those stupid eyes again, so you agreed.

You thought the gala was even more boring every year. You only went as a freshman because Chan said you needed to have the full experience of New Haven Preparatory School. You didn’t know that meant having to watch all your peers grinding on each other, alcohol and God knows what else in their systems. One thing you didn’t know about prep schools before attending one: the kids were much more rebellious. Something about being so confined made them act out even more. You heard 3 different couples hooking up in the same bathroom when you just wanted to pee.

This year might’ve been the most boring. The way overdone theme made you want to gouge your eyes out. There was a cardboard Eiffel Tower and the lights were hung up to look like stars. If you squinted, it was kind of pretty.

Felix was having a good time though. While you leaned back against the wall, sipping on a punch you were 99% sure was spiked, Felix was living it up on the dance floor. Sometimes you forgot that Felix was a dancer, as he never really talked about it much. But when you saw him dance, you remembered all of the recitals you’ve gone to for him.

You become 100% sure that the punch is spiked when Felix holds out a hand, beckoning you to the dance floor, and you accept. You don’t know if you can dance, but you’re assuming you can’t based on the amused look on your best friend’s face. You two clumsily move to the beat of Top 50 pop songs, giggling whenever one of you trips. You were tipsy, and Felix was just a clumsy guy.

The gym hushes when the doors open, revealing someone you could care less about.

Seo Changbin.

Seo Changbin was practically made of money. Born with a silver spoon in his mouth, Changbin could literally get away with murder. You assumed that was why everyone liked him so much.

After a moment of gaping silence, the party continued. There was more chatter, mostly from people with huge crushes on the senior.

“God, he’s so hot. Do I look good enough for him to talk to me?”

You just laughed listening to their conversations. Felix must’ve heard them, too, as he rolled his eyes.

You didn’t care about Changbin. He had never been mean to you, but he was never nice to you either. So you just didn’t care.

You cared so little that you merely shrugged when he tapped on your shoulder, taking your hand in his and dragging you away from your best friend.

You cared so little that you couldn’t be bothered to push him away when he pulled you into the janitor’s closet and suddenly had you pressed against a wall. You didn’t push him away when his lips connected with yours, with a fire you weren’t aware his possessed. In fact, you cared so little that you kissed him back, wrapping your arms around his neck to pull him even closer.

You weren’t sure how long you were in that closet, or where your shoes were, or how many hickeys were on your neck, but you didn’t really care. You just went and found Felix, telling him that you were tired and wanted to go back to your house. And Felix walked you back, the knowing smirk never leaving his face, even after he dropped you off.

—

Seo Changbin was a complicated guy, especially when it came to matters of the heart.

People called him a player, and from most angles, he looked like one. But he swore he wasn’t.

But he never really talked about his feelings.

“Dude, you’re a fuckboy. Just deal with it.” His best friend Minho had said when Changbin tried to explain himself. His other friend, Seungmin, nodded from his spot in the corner, where he was reading a manga.

Seungmin was a junior, and sometimes Changbin thought about knocking his teeth out. But Seungmin could pay to get new teeth in a day, so what was the point?

He has tried to knock Minho’s teeth out once. He doesn’t really remember what they were fighting about, but he punched Minho in the mouth and got a beating in return. They’ve agreed to never fight again.

But Changbin swears he isn’t a fuckboy.

Seo Changbin, although rough on the outside, was soft on the inside. All he wanted was someone to fall in love with. Someone to hold at night and someone to make breakfast with and someone to kiss and hug and just…someone to love.

Seo Changbin was a strong believer in fate and soulmates, and believed that you would know who your soulmate was the moment your lips touched theirs.

So he spent his whole high school career trying to find his soulmate. So he’s kissed almost everyone at school. That’s actually how he met Minho...and Seungmin.

It took him four years to find his soulmate. He couldn’t understand the energy that passed through him the moment his lips touched yours. It was like someone had lit a match inside his body and set all his organs on fire in the best way possible. When you left, it was like all of the warmth in the world had been taken away from him, and he was left in the cold.

You were Changbin’s soulmate. He was sure of it.

Now all he had to do was make you his.

—

School had gotten weirder after the gala. Everyone looked at you, which is something they never did.

“Felix,” you whined, back in the basement, “why was everyone staring at me?”

“Oh, I don’t know Y/N, maybe it’s because you hooked up with Seo Changbin in the janitor’s closet.”

“We didn’t hook up! We just kissed for a little. I have self-control, asshole.”

You heard footsteps coming down the stairs. Your eyes widened as you put out your cigarette, making sure your foot was covering it as the person showed themselves.

“Seo Changbin, fancy seeing you here.” Felix sent a knowing glance your way, not even trying to make his wink secretive.

“I...I just wanted to give this to Y/N.” Changbin pulled out a single rose from behind his back, shoving it into your hand with a shy smile.

“You...you didn’t fall in love with me because of a kiss, did you?” You laughed awkwardly, setting the rose down next to you.

“I did, actually.”

Oh Jesus, you thought.

“Oh Jesus.” you said.

That wasn’t the last you saw of Seo Changbin that day. He walked you to your art class, then he walked you home, with Felix trailing behind. He wasn’t the worst person to talk to, and you actually found yourself laughing at a few of his jokes.

Changbin couldn’t even describe the joy he felt when he heard your laugh.

And this continued for the next few weeks, as the end of winter transitioned into spring. You could predict Changbin’s lines at this point, and it was pretty amusing.

“The flowers are so pretty today.” Felix mused.

“Like Y/N.” You and Changbin said in sync, sending each other sly grins afterwards. You hadn’t really noticed that his hand was holding yours. It happened a lot, and you didn’t mind it. You didn’t care.

You cared so little that you let him kiss your cheek as he left to go to his house.

You cared so little that you blushed when he said, “See you tomorrow, my darling Y/N.”

You cared so little that you walked home in a daze, hardly able to hear Felix’s teasing laugh.

“Mom.” You had said once you entered the house. Your mother jumped, not used to the lightness of your tone.

“Y/N.”

“I love you.”

A smile broke out on her face, the first one you had seen from her in years, “I love you too, my baby.”

And she hugged you, and she cried, and you cried. Your house felt a little bit more like a home, and you thought you should thank Changbin. He was always bright, bringing a new perspective of optimism into your life.

The next day, you decided you would thank him.

You took his hand in yours on your walk home, startling him enough to make him stutter. You watched him as he spoke, and you told him that he looked nice that day. By the time you got to his house, he was a blushing mess.

“B-Bye, Y/N.” He turned around to go to his house, but you stopped him. You wrapped your arms around his torso from behind, trying to pour every ounce of adoration you held for him into this hug. His eyes watered as he placed his hands over yours, immediately understanding what you wanted to tell him. He knew you well enough to not say anything, only turning around and pressing a kiss to your forehead before going home.

Home wasn’t a building. Home wasn’t a person either. To you, home was a feeling. A feeling of comfort and safety. That feeling started following you everywhere, leaving you feeling at home in your own skin.

You still hated your school. The hallways and the classrooms and the courtyard and the teachers and the students. But you still felt at home there, as your home was anywhere you went.

#changbin #seo changbin #stray kids #skz #changbin scenarios #seo changbin scenarios #stray kids scenarios #skz scenarios #changbin imagines #seo changbin imagines #stray kids imagines #skz imagines #changbin x reader #seo changbin x reader #stray kids x reader #skz x reader

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i-am-liking-the-peppermint-mocha · 5 years

Text

Sundial - Chapter 9

((The next chapter of Sundial is already here!

Ralivil makes a very quick trip to the Eye in the Pyramid. He gets mood whiplash.))

Sundial

Chapter 9 - I Don’t Remember What it is That I Just Said to You

The sentient rocks scuttering about were barely given so much as a glance by Ralivil. He ran down the left wing right past them, giving no thought to how they blocked his path. He just stepped over them. The piles of sludge that squelched about were payed no mind, either. While Ralivil made sure not to step on them, it was made clear that he wanted nothing to do with them. The sludges understood, and left him to run about the roof of the Hagbard, but the rocks’ legs worked much faster than their brains. Or what they had of one.

The Jewel Joggers chased after Ralivil as he turned the corner at the head of the Hagbard. A couple more of the sentient rocks joined the mob chasing Ralivil as he dashed down the right wing. As he reached the end of the wing, he spotted a small hole right at the end. He assumed that it would lead to the inside of the Hagbard, took the risk, and jumped straight down into it.

His assumptions were proved correct. Ralivil only rested for a second, looking over his shoulder to see the Jewel Joggers chasing him fall down and shatter upon hitting the floor. The interior was filled with sentient piles of sludge, minding their own business. Ralivil ran right past them and up the ladder that sat at the center of the back wall. The ladder was tall, and it took longer than Ralivil would have liked to climb up it, but eventually, he made it up to the top room.

The room was empty, save for the silver pyramid that sat in the back, near the right corner. At the top of the metal pyramid was another, smaller pyramid. It was yellow and had a single eye with a red iris. It shone gold.

Ralivil could only take in the sight before the Prophet’s Mark flashed and flared up with pain. Ralivil clutched the Prophet’s Mark with his left tentacle, as per what was becoming routine, and gritted his teeth. The corners of his vision turned white. Without his teammates’ chatter to fill the void, the wait for the white to fill his vision was a painful slog.

The pain from the Prophet’s Mark finally faded, and the white in his vision soon did as well. He was back in the cave he had been transported to while visiting the Misplace Treetrunk. The female green Mook he had seen in the cave last he had been there was nowhere around. It was just the blue Mook. He sat near the old hyberpod, which was looking a bit worse for wear, and quietly doodled on a piece of paper with a crayon. The hyberpod had a small pile of paper on it. He still looked to be a child, but had grown a fair bit since their last meeting. The blue Mook looked up with his upper eyes, then gasped. He lifted his head to look up at Ralivil, who gave a lopsided smile and a small wave.

“Ralivil!” the blue Mook exclaimed. He got to his feet and ran up to him, excitement twinkling in his eyes.

“Hi again,” Ralivil said.

“I thought I wouldn’t see you again! It’s been ages!”

Ralivil’s eyes shrunk. “Oh stars, how long?” he asked.

The blue Mook thought for a moment. “Uhh… Three years.”

Ralivil let a sigh of relief escape him, slouching over for a moment. He straightened his back as he asked, “What have you been doing since I last saw you?”

The blue Mook’s face lit up upon hearing the question. “I’ve started drawing! It was just to remember what you looked like at first, but, uh…”

The blue Mook pursed his lips as he glanced down at the rocky floor. He then looked over his shoulder at the small pile of paper sitting on the old hyberpod, and slithered up to it. He grabbed the papers off the hyberpod and brought them over to Ralivil. He clumsily fanned them out, revealing various crayon drawings on each, all of them partially covering one another. Most of them appeared to be landscapes or the starry sky, but with some unusual colours thrown in, while the rest were simply drawings of something found around the cave.

“Mom always wants me to draw boring things, like gemblooms or rocks. Sometimes I do it so she’ll stop annoying me, but that doesn’t last for long,” the blue Mook explained with a frown. He dropped the drawings of subjects he called boring to the floor, then stared at it as he contemplated his next course of action. Ralivil stood patiently and waited for the blue Mook to make up his mind.

The blue Mook looked back to the papers he held in his tentacles, then looked them over. He mumbled to himself as the frown disappeared from his face. He flipped a piece of paper around and showed it Ralivil.

“I, uh… I sometimes draw us doing stuff together,” the blue Mook said, eyes down on the floor again. “It kinda… became a thing. They’re not that good…”

Ralivil was beaming.

“That’s awesome!” he told the blue Mook.

The blue Mook looked up at him, eyes wide. He was silent for a few seconds before quietly asking, “…You really think so…?”

“Of course! I can tell you enjoyed drawing it,” Ralivil replied.

The blue Mook’s voice lowered to a mumble as he said, “Well… yeah… I guess so…”

Ralivil crouched down to the blue Mook’s eye level and told him, “Don’t stop drawing things that make you happy, okay?”

A small smile crept onto the blue Mook’s face, and he gave a small nod.

Ralivil closed his eyes, and expected to be taken back to the Point of Power. But when he opened them, he found himself standing in a pitch black void. He looked around, feeling beads of sweat already forming on his head. A bright white glow caught his eyes, and he looked forward to see a perfectly circular eye open up to look at him. Said eye had a red iris, like the eye on the yellow pyramid at the Point of Power.

“01000100 01010011 01011010 01000111 00100000 01011010 01001001 01010110 00100000 01000010 01001100 01000110 00100000 01010111 01001100 01010010 01001101 01010100 00100000 01010011 01010110 01001001 01010110 00111111” a voice echoed into Ralivil’s mind. Presumably, it was from the eye itself, but Ralivil didn’t imagine a one-eyed pyramid to sound like an annoyed old man with static laced in his voice.

“I– I don’t know what you’re saying!” Ralivil replied.

“01001100 01010011 00100000 01000100 01010110 01001111 01001111 00101110”

“I-I’m only hearing garbled zeroes and ones!” Ralivil told the voice.

“01000111 01010011 01011010 01000111 00100111 01001000 00100000 01000100 01010011 01011010 01000111 00100000 01010011 01011010 01001011 01001011 01010110 01001101 01001000 00100000 01000100 01010011 01010110 01001101 00100000 01000010 01001100 01000110 00100000 01001111 01001100 01001000 01010110 00100000 01000010 01001100 01000110 01001001 01001000 01010110 01001111 01010101 00100000 01010010 01001101 01001000 01010010 01010111 01010110 00100000 01011010 00100000 01001110 01011010 01011000 01010011 01010010 01001101 01010110 00101100 00100000 01010000 01010010 01010111 00101110”

“Are you trying to tell me something…?” Ralivil guessed, his voice lowering to a squeak.

“01010100 01010110 01010110 01000001 00100001 00100000 01000111 01001100 01001100 01010000 00100000 01000010 01001100 01000110 00100000 01001111 01001100 01001101 01010100 00100000 01010110 01001101 01001100 01000110 01010100 01010011 00100000 01000111 01001100 00100000 01010101 01010010 01010100 01000110 01001001 01010110 00100000 01010010 01000111 00100000 01001100 01000110 01000111 00101110”

“I don’t know what you’re saying! Is that a yes or a no? I— Was it a yes or a no at all?” Ralivil asked. “You’re really scaring me here!”

“01000010 01001100 01000110 00100111 01001001 01010110 00100000 01001000 01011000 01011010 01001001 01010110 01010111 00100000 01001101 01001100 01000100 00111111 00100000 01010000 01010010 01010111 00101100 00100000 01000010 01001100 01000110 00100111 01001001 01010110 00100000 01010100 01001100 01001101 01001101 01011010 00100000 01010100 01001100 00100000 01001000 01000111 01001001 01011010 01010010 01010100 01010011 01000111 00100000 01000111 01010011 01001001 01001100 01000110 01010100 01010011 00100000 01010011 01010110 01001111 01001111 00101110 00100000 01000010 01001100 01000110 00100111 01001001 01010110 00100000 01010100 01001100 01001101 01001101 01011010 00100000 01010011 01011010 01000101 01010110 00100000 01001000 01001100 00100000 01001110 01000110 01011000 01010011 00100000 01011000 01001001 01011010 01001011 00100000 01001000 01010011 01001100 01000101 01010110 01010111 00100000 01010111 01001100 01000100 01001101 00100000 01000010 01001100 01000110 01001001 00100000 01000111 01010011 01001001 01001100 01011010 01000111 00100000 01011001 01000010 00100000 01010111 01010110 01011010 01000111 01010011 00100000 01000111 01010011 01011010 01000111 00100000 01000010 01001100 01000110 00100111 01001111 01001111 00100000 01011001 01010110 00100000 01001000 01010010 01001101 01010100 01010010 01001101 01010100 00100000 01011001 01010110 01010110 01000111 01010011 01001100 01000101 01010110 01001101 00101110”

Ralivil had no reply this time around. He simply curled up as much as he could of himself as the loud, staticky, garbled voice echoed in his mind, telling him things he couldn’t understand.

“00101110 00101110 00101110 01010011 01000110 01010011 00101110 00100000 01000010 01001100 01000110 00100111 01001001 01010110 00100000 01001101 01001100 00100000 01010101 01000110 01001101 00100000 01000111 01001100 00100000 01001110 01010110 01001000 01001000 00100000 01011010 01001001 01001100 01000110 01001101 01010111 00100000 01000100 01010010 01000111 01010011 00101110 00100000 01010100 01010110 01000111 00100000 01001100 01010101 01010101 00100000 01001110 01000010 00100000 01001011 01000110 01001011 01001011 01010110 01000111 00100111 01001000 00100000 01001011 01001001 01001100 01001011 01010110 01001001 01000111 01000010 00101110”

Ralivil’s surroundings blinked back into view. He was back next to the Point of Power, like nothing had ever happened. He could feel his heart pounding. It felt as though it wanted to leap out of his chest. His breaths were ragged. The time it took for Ralivil to stop his head from spinning seemed like forever. Once his breaths were controlled, and his heart had calmed some, he immediately ran back to the Timechasers’ ship.

As he climbed up the walls to jump up to the hole in the right wing he’d jumped down, he noticed that the piles of sludge were starting to suddenly stop and start. The observation almost made Ralivil forget what he was doing for a moment. He ignored it until he returned to the ship.

Anue stared at him silently for much longer than comfortable.

“…You took longer than I thought you would,” they finally said in their monotonous voice.

From the back of the ship, Boson argued, “Yeah, well, not everyone can just magically teleport where they’d like in a split second.”

“He does have a point,” Buzzy Bol added.

Anue grimaced slightly as they quietly huffed.

“Anyway, time to head for Mars!” Buzzy Bol announced.

gsv nzxsrmv szh hklpvm

#mother cogdis #cogdis #ralivil (fc)#alinivar #anue (fc)#boson #buzzy bol (fc)#((arix is still on the ship dw))#(he just doesn't say anything in this chapter))

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agreekdemigod · 6 years

Text

Coffee Whim

“Your designs are always so colorful.”

The brush traced a long curve in the canvas, lining in pastel colors the figure of a profile.

“Are you sure you don’t want any of them as your protagonist?”

The shadow must be done right, if he didn’t want it to look opaque. Light shades to enhance the curve of her cheeks and lips, curved in a peaceful smile.

“I wish I had such amazing ideas.”

Should he add a bit of orange at the tips of the petals? Or maybe at the base of the flowers. But then the colour would contrast with the blond of her hair and that just wouldn’t work.

The tips would be, then, but very slightly, as if the sunlight reflected in her curls.

“My eyes hurt a bit while watching it but it is indeed beautiful.”

Adding one last detail, Kaminari left the utensil in the table beside him, eyes fixed in his last piece of work, his breath uneasy as he watched nervously the face in front of him.

His brain hadn’t failed him this time. All the details were perfect, as if she was there in front of him, real and reachable.

The idea of calling his sister crossed his mind as the feeling of keeping it only for his eyes thickened in his chest.

Later, he would call later.

All his life, Kaminari has painted everything his mind provided.

His mother used to say she and his father had to run to stop him from painting the walls, at the time when “no’s” didn’t mean anything to him.

He was so small and still that didn't stop him from holding a crayon, even before he learnt how to walk without stumbling. And once his grandma bought him his first brush, he was unstoppable.

His sister only seemed to encourage him. Her bedroom walls were an explosion of colour, doodles of their garden, their family and just random stuff covering every inch from the base to where his tiny hand could reach. Their parents gave up soon after he decorated their own bedroom too.

They had another artist in the family, there was nothing else they could do to stop it. And in all truth, they didn’t want to.

The walls in the house were white but Denki brought them colour, just as he did with everything he touched and everyone he met.

His teachers said he had too much energy, that he was different. Some would tell his parents to find him activities to tire him up while others would state that he must learn to control himself, that everything could be solved with discipline.

The doctors gave his parents the name and a better way to deal with it and they accepted it as a part of the son they loved and cared about and heard attentively the recommendations that would help their kid to integrate in a society not as comprensible as them.

They encouraged him and were with him with every step he took, ready to catch him everytime he fell.

Denki learnt how to play the guitar from his father himself, and went to his first art class thanks to his mother.

He learnt that drawing helped him with his ADHD and that listening to things was an easier way to memorize complicated stuff.

He learnt the tricks to control his anxiety and how to make his hands movements less obvious in public, specially after being hours sitting in a classroom with his mind flying miles away from the teacher's explanation.

It wasn’t perfect and most of the times he still got nagged by the adults for not staying steady more than ten minutes but he learnt to get used to that too, to shrug off the harsh words or stares, even when sometimes they hurt so much that he had the go to hide in his mother's arms to find understanding

Things are inevitable in this world, she would say, pressing her cheek against his, her curls tickling Denki's skin.That close to her, he could smell her shampoo and the scent of coffee in her clothes. Things such as love and fate. And you, my dear, are one of those things. You are inevitable, Denki. Inevitable to love and impossible to forget and ignore. She would kiss his temple then and would caress his blonde hair with her nose as she whispered,

You are our star.

Denki loved coffee even before tasting it for the first time.

He loved the smell of it lingering on his house’s kitchen, the way his father seemed so happy while drinking it and the profundity of its colour, neither brown nor black and sometimes with a hint of gold.

And he loved its flavour, of course, the sweet and bitter taste of it against his tongue and the million ways it could be prepared and still taste so rich and contradictory.

He loved coffee and the way his mother would smile while preparing it, with the attentive stares of the three coffee addicts in the household on her, as they waited impatiently for it to be ready.

And he kept loving it, even after she wasn’t there to prepare it anymore.

“...now I have to find a new fucking job that isn’t a total waste of time and without a shitty pay.” Bakugou growled and Kaminari kicked a can in the middle of the street, doing it a couple of times more before picking it up, talking to the other end of the line as he did so.

“I mean, you could have let that old woman shout at you? I know it would have been shitty but at least that would have let you keep your job. It would be difficult to get hired at this time of the year.” The can clanked when he throw it in the trash bin, loud enough to rival Bakugo's rude scoff.

“And let that fucker continue her life without no one telling her how much she sucked? No way. I may have been fired but shit I don’t regret anything.”

Kaminari sighed but nodded nonetheless. He was right, this world sure needed more people that would face middle class woman to suck it up and stop acting as if everyone debt them something.

Bakugou started ranting again and Kaminari readjusted his grip on his backpack, heavy because of the new assignments and homework he didn't have the energy or motivation to do.

The second part of the semester had barely started and he could already feel the fatigue and stress of the upcoming final project.The fact that he should had started planning it weeks ago wasn't helping either.

And that's why he was there that day.

The tinkle of the doorbell of The Coffee Whim welcomed him as a feeling similar to homecoming replaced the anxiety on his chest and the warm and exquisite scent of the coffee filled his nostrils.

The place was rather small, with wooden floors and big picture windows towards the main street, sofas and rounded tables spread around in an organized disorder. The walls were surprisingly empty, though: only a poster of a porcelain cup and a cork board with coffee recipes hanging on the main wall.

“I'm saving the space for your works, dear.” The owner replied when Kaminari had mentioned it casually one afternoon. “Now, where is the promised portrait of my son?”

Denki had laughed before shrugging helplessly.

“He keeps running away everytime he sees me, how can I paint a kid like that?.”

Kaminari had known Mrs. Midoriya since the opening of the café. He had wandered there one night, back in his highschool days, in the middle of a sexuality crisis that had been eating him for the last year.

He must had been looking as pitiful as he felt because she had smiled kindly to his mumbling and added extra cream and chocolate chips to his order. Kaminari had loved her since then.

She wouldn't be there that time though, having getting married only a few days ago. Her honeymoon would probably last, at least, one more month, and Kaminari sure missed her as well as he was happy for her. (The premise was still open though which he was very thankful for)

The cafe was deserted that day, no sign of Mineta or any of the other baristas at the other side of the counter. They were probably in the kitchen, playing on their phones while enjoying the lazy day.

Instead, a black haired guy was behind the register, his black eyes looking uninterested at the numbers on the screen.

Kaminari stopped in his tracks when he got close enough to see his features. The guy wasn't someone he knew but there was something, like a sensation of deja vu in the back of his mind, that made him feel intrigued.

It had happened before, when he had met some of his friends, random people on the streets or even teachers.

Kirishima used to joke it was because they had met in another universe, maybe in a world of superheroes and villains( or in a medieval world depending on whatever Kirishima's mood that day was. They all had gotten use to his writer mumbling by that point.).

“Oi, are you still there, Denki?”

Bakugou’s voice brought him back, and the blond got suddenly aware of how strange he might look there, standing in the middle of the café while staring at an stranger.

“Just about to order some coffee before heading to the dorms, want me to get you something?”

“A macchiato.”

“Got it. See ya there.”

“Be quick.”

Kaminari put his phone on his hoodie's pocket, took a long breath and went right to the register where the guy hadn’t move an inch in the last minute.

The deja vu sensation stayed there, only increasing when the guy looked up and a pair of black eyes were directed at him.

Truth to be told, he looked miserable. That close, the blonde could see the bags under his eyes, the sick pale tone of his skin and a messy hair as if he hadn’t brushed it for three days straight. He also had one long strip hanging off his hoodie’s sleeve, for some reason.

And still, Kaminari could swear he felt like electricity, shivers of excitement going through his body, like the ones he had when inspiration strike him before painting a new work.

How strange.

“-do chai”

Sero stared at the yellow sun eyes for a long moment, his sleep deprived brain trying to focus on what the guy in front of him was saying, his senses still too numb to process anything that wasn't the utter pain of his back, after a whole night sitting on his desk working on a groupal homework assigned a week ago.

The guy looked around his age, tho he was significantly shorter. He black highlights in his golden hair, a pair of very pretty eyes and a friendly smile, wavering with nervousness as Sero’s silence prolonged.

Oh right. Coffee.

God, he was such a mess.

“Ah, I’m sorry but could you please repeat your order?”

The guy's smile turned sympathetic, in that weird way a college student can recognise another of their kind and their suffering.

“A macchiato and a nevado chai, please.”

As Sero worked, his arms moving as if they had been programated, he could feel the guy's gaze on him. Golden eyes following his movements with careful attention. Evaluating.

Had they met before? Sero couldn't tell, as tired as he was, but he was sure he would have remembered him. The guy was cute he couldn't deny that.

He was so going to regret not to try to start a conversation or getting his number, once he was wide awake again.

It would be for the best tho. It was too risky, he would probably said something that would ridicule himself, or even worse, something that could offend him.

So no hitting on that dude today.

Handling him his order, Sero looked at the names written in his messy calligraphy in both cups as they slid in the counter.

Denki. Katsuki.

Which one would be his name? The name Denki certainly fit him but who knows, maybe it was the other one. Guessing his name was probably the only thing he could do right now about this guy.

“It’s Denki” the guy said, and Sero blinked, realizing that he had been voicing his thoughts out loud for who knows how long. “Thanks for the coffee”

An small alarm voice started inside sero’s head as he watched the guy leave his cheeks itching in embarrassment.

Did he..?

No, he wouldn’t think about that right now. He just wouldn't,

Going to the kitchen to tell Mineta to get the fuck behind the counter (his break had finished five minutes ago), he noticed something by the corner of his eye, something long and white hanging of his right elbow, an strip of tape probably left by the twins before he got out of home that morning, as a reminder that he still had to fulfill his promise of playing with them that afternoon.

Shit.

His future self was going to regret so many things.

“...and he prepared the most amazing coffee, I swear. God, how can the same coffee taste so different? Kaminari's cheeks were flushed by the excitement as he moved his hands in big gestures, his sandwich longly forgotten in the tray in front of him.

His friends listened in different levels of attention, torned between their own food and the blonde’s story. The college’s cafeteria wasn’t really full that day so they could eat without missing a detail of the story.

“Tastes better when the barista is hot” Mina said and Kirishima laughed immediately. Kaminari wasn't going to deny it. Only facts allowed here. And it was a fact that the dude had been very attractive, yes. Just like his coffee was really good.

“You say that because you haven’t try it, but I’m serious here. It is amazing.”

“I don't know it seems biased. What do you say, Bakugou?” Said Kirisha as he elbowed Bakugo's side, who had been hearing the conversation in silence. “You went there this morning, don't you?”

Kaminari felt his eyebrows rise in surprise. He didn’t know that. And he shared a room with the dude.

“The coffee was decent”

Decent. The group let out a choir of “oh”'s in appreciation. If Bakugou was saying that then it meant it had really been something else, in a good way.

“And the guy?” Insisted Kirishima, excited for an opportunity to gossip.

Katsuki shrugged.

“Rather plain”

Kaminari rolled his eyes as his friends giggled around him. “Sometimes I think you are made of stone or something”

“You told me he had a long line of tape hanging off his elbow.”

“And that only makes him cuter”

“Uh-huh.”

“Wait, why did he have a tape strip on his elbow?”

Denki shrugged.

“It was already there when I went. He looked pretty tired too, as if he hadn't slept more than a couple of hours. And I can tell because he looked exactly like Bakugou does right now, except for the frown of course, and more handsome.”

“Shut up, dunce face.”

“Why are you so meaaan”

As the conversation trailed to another topic, Kaminari turned his attention back to his sandwich, his stomach growling in annoyance for having ignored it for so long. Mina inclined a bit into him, her black eyes staring at him with interest. “You know, you never told us his name.”

Another shrugg. “He wasn’t wearing his name tag”

Kirishima whistled, and suddenly all the attention was back at Kaminari. “The (still up to debate) handsome barista remains like a mystery” Bakugou barely blinked when everyone turned at him. “What nickname should we gave him?”

“Soy sauce”

“Rude. I suggest You-know-who.”

“And you call mine ‘rude’?”

“Tapey” Mina intervened, and everyone turned to look at her in silence before bursting again in complains.

“That is so lameee”

“And yikes.”

“Yeah, no cool at all.”

She had shrugged and gave them an small smile behind her smoothie.

“But it works better than yours, doesn’t it?”

They were willing to fight that. And they did.

Kaminari went to the café that same day once the classes were over. After the conversation with him friends at lunch, the mystery guy topic didn’t leave his brain for the rest of the day, his curiosity increasing as the hours passed.

The café was slightly less empty this time. Only three persons in line and two sit around at the tables. A friendly face was behind the register too.

“What’s up, Shouji?” He said, once his turn came, not even five minutes later. Sometimes it was like the guy had six arms or something. He moved so fast, not that he was complaining.“Feeling better after your rest? How’s Tokoyami?”

Shouji's eyes curved friendly, his mouth hidden behind a black mask with a toothy smile printed on it. ( It wasn't Shouji's style at all, too dark and edgy for that and Kaminari could bet that it was Tokoyami's, Shouji's best friend and roommate.)

“I'm recovered but he insisted that I should use it in case there was some germ around.” he explained, pointing at the mask. “My own are dirty so he let me his, refusing to let me go out if i didn’t wear it.”

“Aw, you guys are cute.”

Shouji ignored his comment. “Anyways, what is you order today?”

Kaminari smiled, trying to peek over Shouji’s shoulder to see if there was someone else behind the counter. It was impossible, the dude was huge.

“Just a latte this time.”

His friend nodded and gave him his change before going the kitchen’s entrance, his hands holding the door open as he peeked inside. “Hey Sero, we are almost out of milk, could you please take care of these orders while I go to the back and bring some?” Some incomprehensible words and Shouji nodded before disappearing inside.

Kaminari's heart jumped inside his chest when he saw the tall black haired boy from the day before got out of the kitchen. He was yawning lazily as he tied his apron back to its place and his face shined with recognition when he saw the blonde there.

Both guys blushed immediately. Their gazes trapped in each other for a few seconds before quickly looking away. It was an entertaining sight for the outsiders. And it would had been almost funny if it hadn’t been so lame.

“Your name” said Kaminari, breaking the silence. It came softly, almost like a whisper but he would take it. Better that than a cracked voice. At the barista's confused expression, he explained “You weren’t wearing a name tag the last time.” Or today. The realisation crossed the guy’s features once he looked down to his apron to see the empty space in the front of it.

“I probably took it off before doing the laundry. My mind has been floating around these last days” Not the best choice of words. The guy’s blush got more intense. “It’s Hanta, by the way.”

“Nice to meet you,” Kaminari said slowly, holding back a laugh at the guy distinct dorkiness, and trying to pronounce it carefully. “Hanta”

Hanta nodded and went back to work and Kaminari allowed himself of taking a deep breath, fanning himself with his hands to soothe his blush, drawing on the fact he was opposed to him.

Instead of going to any of the tables or sofas, Kaminari sit in one of the tabourets under the counter and waited for his coffee, trying not to stare too much at the barista and why he found him so fascinating.

He really didn't know why he was acting that way.

Maybe it was because he hadn’t had a real crush in years so his brain was overcoming it by making him act like a highschooler now that he finally has.

Or maybe it wasn’t and Denki was just .

The twinkling sound of the porcelain cup interrupted his train of thoughts as it was left in front of him.

“Here it is, a classic latte.” Hanta said, leaving as quickly as he came, ready to work on the next orders.

Kaminari didn’t pay much attention to it. He was still looking down at his coffee cup, where Sero had drawn a lighting in the foam.

Denki.

He waited until it dissolved before taking a sip.

As the bisexual disaster that he was, Kaminari took that as a sign to keep going to the café to talk more with the barista.

It started kinda awkward and timid, polite conversations made between breaks and orders as they both tested carefully the waters before taking an step.

Sero made a move first, asking for his number one night, just after Kaminari had finished his coffee and was ready to leave.

It was then when things started to move faster. Once they reached topics they were both interested in, all shyness was left behind.

Kaminari learnt Sero had his same age and that he was studying programming. He had three brothers, one older and two young ones, all boys.

“I like to babysit the twins.” He said when Denki asked him about them. “They are so different and at the same time so similar to each other. It just blows my mind.”

Sero learnt that Kaminari had one older sister and that he lived with one of his best friends. He also learnt he was taking painting classes outside the university, in a total different academy, and that he had been doing it for fun since he was ten.

“It is not like you stop once you know all the techniques” Kaminari had replied when he saw Sero's arched eyebrows. “You keep taking them because you just love them.”

They both liked video games and anime, and despite not liking exactly the same genres of music, they were similar enough to enjoy it. And the same went with sense of humour.

“Obviously the pikashook meme wins over the galaxy brain one.”

“You say that because it is like the golden age for pikashook but once it is over you will forget it just like any other trendy meme. But the galaxy brain one is a classic. Totally superior.”

There were times where they prefered to be silent, though, not because they were tired of talking, but because they enjoyed each other’s company without interruptions.

Kaminari used to observe him behind his coffee cup in those moments, taking mental notes of his features to sketch them later, without anyone to see it.

His art teacher had peeked over his shoulder one morning, nodding in approval at his draft.

“A nice face, you should paint him next time.” Kaminari had nodded and excused himself to go right to his dorm, hype to tell Bakugou what a professional had said and that his opinions were invalid.

At some point, it became a custom. Kaminari would stop by the café three or four time a week, (way more times he had visited the place in the last months) with the excuse of a coffee whim to tell Sero how his day went, the good and the bad anecdotes, brightening everytime he managed to get a laugh out of him and his heart expanding on his chest everytime he smiled at him.

So Kaminari kept ordering and Sero kept delivering,to the point that the coffee Denki had loved all his life became something even bigger for him. Something brighter.

Sero had watched Kaminari coming week after week for over a month now.

Sometimes in the morning, other times in the afternoon but thrice a week without fail, always carrying a backpack or a notebook. The days he wouldn’t they would chat until their phones ran out of battery or some of the blonde’s friend stole it because of the ‘bros before hoes’ rule (By Kaminari’s descriptions of them, they all sounded like awesome people.).

There would be times where Kaminari would cross the doors looking like a normal college student, wearing a jean jacket, a hoodie or in flannel, and others where he would look like a total disaster, his ripped old jeans and simple shirt covered in paint and marker stains. (Sero would secretly prefer that one a lot, with his hair tied in a messy ponytail, paint stains on a side of his face and his eyes sparkling with excitement as he asked for the day’s special.)

And he would always smile and Sero would be lying if he said he didn’t ask his grandma for more coffee tips so he could see more of that.

“It is weird for you to ask me all of this in such a short period of time.”she had told him in one of their calls, just a pair of days ago. Sero had tried to respond but she interrupted him. “And it can’t be only for your job. Don’t they have their own recipes? It must be for a certain someone. And I don’t like the idea of my secret tips being shared with an stranger.”

“I’m not gonna tell anyone, grandma, I will just prepare him the coffee.”

“So there is someone!” He decided to end the call there before she managed to get more information out of him and decided to tell his mom.

And just like that a month passed, with them talking over coffee cups and pastries, pretending it was something as casual as a friendship and ignoring the other's blush and secret stares, if only that bought them more time to not confess their feelings.

They would talk for hours until their voices got hoarse and his cheeks numb for how hard they had laughed, and once the night came Kaminari would say his goodbye and Sero would wave back, and they both will wait for the next time, looking forward for a conversation that hadn't happened yet, but they could imagine and replay in their head in such detail that it would be like a memory.

And then Kaminari broke the chain.

He had came one late afternoon, his hair even more messy and his shoulders dropped in surrender and Sero hadn't seen someone so miserable out of final exams season in such a long time.

“Cure my sorrows and pain with your magical coffee, oh good sir.” The blonde had mumbled, with his face against the counter, in front of where Hanta had been drying a cup because of the lack of customers in line.

Sero hadn’t said anything, he only stared at Denki for a few seconds before going to the coffee machine and return with a big plastic cup of a caramel coloured drink, with a lot of cream and syrup on top.

“Drown them all.” He said as he waited patiently for Kaminari to gain enough strength to rise his head and take a sip.

The impact was obvious. Denki's eyes opened in surprise as the mix of sugar and coffee exploded in his mouth and caressed his palate.

“Jesus Christ, what is this?”

Sero shrugged as if it wasn’t much, but the small curve of his lips betrayed his satisfaction.

“Just an Arequipe.”

The blonde shook slightly his head, as if trying to clear his thoughts, watching in astonishment the divine drink he was holding .“This is the first time I’ve tasted something like this”.

He could feel some remaining cream on the tip of his nose, but he couldn't care less. He would whip it later. “It is so sweet and cold. I’m about to cry.” He really felt tempted to, only to emphasize his point. “How did you know this?”

“My grandma is colombian, and every good colombian knows their coffee.”

“That’s awesome.” And then a question popped in his mind and he couldn't just not ask. “Can you talk in spanish then?”

Sero had smiled before saying:

“Un poquito.”

It physically hurt Denki not to scream. Dear god. Could he get anymore perfect? He made a dramatic play of a heart clenching and Sero let out a muffled laugh, watching attentive how Kaminari enjoyed his coffee.

“Back to your issue…” He said, after a long silence only interrupted by Denki's happy sighs.

“Give me a second to put my thoughts in order. I can't even remember it right now. This has cured my everything” He took another long sip. “Wow. Okay, so humm, well okay, I will explain it all in detail so you can’t miss a thing.” licking the cream out of his lips, Kaminari took a long breath before starting.

“I'm an animator student, and by the end of the semester we have this huge project where we write an script of a work of our own. It is not only an script tho, but a whole presentation of our story.” he explained, fidgening in his seat. “We write it all in a notebook, adding sketches of the places and the profiles and designs of the characters and it requires so many details and work to put it all together. It is like trying to put all your ideas in something real, in paper and ink.”

Sero let out a long whistle. “Man, that sure sounds cool”

“And it is! But it is also very frustrating because, what if i do it wrong? What if it ends up being the worst thing the teacher has ever read? I can't deal with this pressure, the ideas just don’t come.” Or not good ones, at least. “It is like I had lost the ability to create something that actually mattered.” Kaminari blushed, noticing how much he had said already. But the waterfall of words didn’t stop and they probably wouldn’t until he had said everything.

“And everyone seems always so focused on my work, comparing themselves with me and I don't understand. I ve seen their works and they are all so lovely, so different to my own.” The blonde bit his lower lip, as his hands played with the now empty cup. “ And i thought i was okay with that, you know. With my style being so colorful and weird and unconventional.”

The way he said it didn't make it sound like a compliment, despite that was everyone meant when they saw his works.

It never felt like it was one though, not even once,not for him.

“Recently when I see my ideas I just-I just can't seem to find them to be anything else than that. I only see them as obnoxious and it is killing me.”

Kaminari thought about his notebook of sketches, the art classes and the painting he kept in his apartment, hidden of the world’s eyes. “Because I do like drawing and creating. But now i wonder if that's enough. What can an artist do when they can’t create something that isn’t garbage?”

And cut. Kaminari took a long breath as he tried to relax his fists, his fingers numb by how strong his grip had been.

Sero hummed, and the blonde gulped in anticipation. The black haired guy seemed to be thinking about his words, his gaze low as if he was lost in his thoughts.

“I certainly can't tell you if you are or not talented enough,” he admitted, “I haven’t really seen any of your works and to be honest I don’t know if my opinion has much importance when I barely know anything about art”

Kamina wanted to fight that. Because it would, at least for him.

“But,” he said, the tip of his tongue poking softly his upper lip, as he tried to find the correct words to express his point of view. “Sometimes what makes humans to create good things isn’t only our confidence or talent, because we could have any of them, or even both, and that wouldn’t garantize us to stop procrastinating and start doing things.”

“Without resolve, us, creators, are just nothing. Because we could have many ideas, the resources and abilities to make it happen, and it would still mean nothing if we just don’t get in front of the screen or paper and start working on it. Do you have the talent? That’s really good. Do you have ideas? That’s even better. You don’t need the approval of the rest to do what you love, then why would you need it while you are creating it?”

Opening tenderly Kaminari’s fisted hands, Sero traced with his fingers the marks the nails had digged in the soft skin, looking at the stains of graphite in Denki's fingertips as he spoke.

“Have confidence and resolve, and then you will immediately have the talent everyone always talks about.”

The blonde looked at his extended palms and Sero’s own placed gently on them. They were different. Sero's fingers were longer and paler, kinda bony even. His were smaller in comparison, with round nails and rough palms. The contrast was fun to look at.

“That's” said Denki, after a short pause,where he let go Hanta's hands so he could look right at his black eyes “...some pretty good advice.

He was met with a playful smile.

“Barakamon's wise words.”

“I really do need to read the manga.”

Sighing, Kaminari smiled, his eyes shining like liquid gold as he took Sero’s hands to hold them again, their palms facing each other above the wooden table. “Thank you.” he said and Sero nodded, looking at their intertwined fingers with an small smile on his lips.

“Always glad to help.”

“If you could change something about yourself, what would that be?”

“Like a possible change? Or something you aren't but you wish you were?”

Denki shrugged. “As long as it is a change”

It had been a few days after the last time they had seen each other. Since the night Kaminari had gone to vent about his studies, their interactions seemed to have changed. Not a lot, but definitely different from how it was before. There was a feeling of trust there now, as well as an slight vulnerability, than instead of scare them out, only made their bond stronger, knowing the other one wouldn’t use it for their advantage.

They also touched a lot more too. they were starting to get more comfortable in getting into the other one’s personal space, as if the hand holding event had broke an unspoken restriction of physical contact.

And Kaminari had to admit, that he liked that.

Back to the present, Sero seemed to think a bit about the question before responding.

“My hairstyle, maybe? Mina keeps insisting that I should get an undercut asap.” (Yes, he knew Mina. Apparently they went to the same university. That’s why she had being so curious about his story when his description of Sero fit her friend’s looks. The world sure was small.)

Kaminari tried to picture him with an undercut and he found out that it was easier than he thought by how much it would suit him. His face would be more visible, changing his looks from relaxed fresh boy to mature and playful guy.

He would definitely look hot as fuck.

And people would start noticing it too, sadly.

“And why don't you do it?” he said, trying to sound unaffected.

“Because I'm scared of messing it up.”

Impossible.

“What about you?” asked Sero. “What would you change?”

Kaminari didn't hesitate. “I would like to have freckles.”

The blonde played with the spoon on his empty cup, his voice and smile going softer as if he was remembering something sweet, “My dad has them and so does my sister. I think I’m the only one that just wasn’t gifted with them.”

His mother had them too, around ten in every cheek. She had many more though, in the entirety of her shoulders upper arms. Like stardust.

A gentle poke on his face startled him.

“I think you have, though they are very tenuous.”Sero’s finger touched an small dot in Kaminari’s cheek, and then another one next to his ear. “More than freckles they look like tiny moles.”

There was one just above his upper lip too, just in the border of it and another one in the arc of his nose.

Hanta's finger caressed slightly the dots, following them all as if they lead somewhere, tracing an imaginary path in Denki's blushed skin.

The last one was next to Kaminaris right eye, that was widened in awe and embarrassment.

And alarm went off inside Sero’s head, too late as he registered his action and took off his hand out of Denki's freckled face. His own face flushing in an instant. “I’m sorry, I just-” He seemed as lost of words as the blonde himself.

Kaminari opened his mouth, his voice seemed to be failing him as his intense blush seemed to extend from his whole face to the tip of his ears.

“It is alright.” he finally managed to say, “It’s okay”

Kaminari tried to shrugged it off but the memory of Sero's eyes roaming over his features, his face so close to his that he felt his breath tickling his skin made him difficult to breath.

It had been overwhelmingly private. And somehow, deleitable.

Sero must have been thinking something similar because his face was getting redder as the minutes passed.

“I think your coffee is getting cold.” he croaked and Kaminari was suddenly aware of the few people who were also at the café and the messy notes and draws that he had left on the table, that were the main reason he had came today.

Mumbling a quick thanks and a goodbye, Denki stuffed all of his things on his backpack, his mind reproducing the moment again and again, and thoughts about what would have happened if he had close the distance between them there.

Yep, it was definitely time to go. He would tell him about his project next time he saw him.

Or text him. That sounded a lot better.

“I think I’m falling hard” said Denki that night, after staring at the ceiling for two long hours. In the bed at the opposite side of the room, Bakugou muffled against the pillot.

“For who? The plain dude from the café?”

“Okay first of all, he’s not plain. Have you seen those arms? Or that wide back? He has the most tender eyes too…-”

“I can see where your priorities are.”

“And secondly,” continued Kaminari “he makes the best coffee in town just so you know, so he's not just any dude from the café. He’s THE dude from the Café.”

Bakugou rolled his eyes and Kaminari sighed. That wasn’t even the point of all of this.

“I'm just saying, he's so nice and funny. And so considerate and he listens and…”

And he’s special.

Because he can give an amazing advice while referencing a shonen manga.

Because his laugh is so sincere and loud and joyful.

Because he makes this furrowed expression while he tries to decipher Mineta’s chicken scrawl and because he never really minds all the harsh complains some clients say unless it is something unfair or mean to his coworkers.

Because his jokes always make me laugh and because he gets all my vine references.

Because this is the first time I’ve feeling this strong about someone.

“I just don't feel like pretending we are only friends anymore.”

The sound of the sheats and the creaking of a bed made Kaminari turned his head, his golden eyes facing his friend’s red ones, both of their expressions neutrally serious as they looked at each other.

“I don’t fucking know. Have you tried asking Mina?

“I can’t, he’s her friend and she will embarrass me trying to organise a date or something”

Bakugou seemed to bite his tongue to hold back a biter reply. He closed his eyes before taking a short breath and said, his voice even and calm. “I thought you wanted to date him?”

“I do!”

“I understand no shit.”

Kaminari blushed, playing to intertwined his fingers just as he always did everytime he was feeling shy or he talked about something too personal. “But I want to ask him myself, you know. And also, I'm pretty scared. I haven't dated anyone since high school and you had seen how good things went back then.”

Bakugou hummed in agreement and Kaminari waited for him to say something else, the knowledge that will solve all his problems, a new point of view he had myself that the genius Bakugou had sure catched.

And then Katsuki said: “You are pretty fucked up.”

Kaminari almost got up to kick him and demand a true answer. Only the love for his friend and his self-preservation stopped him.

“Don’t you have anything else to say? I already know that.”

Silence. Or Bakugo had fallen asleep or was actively ignoring him. And since it was pretty late and his friend hated to be woken up for littleness, it was probably the second one.

But then Bakugo’s voice came very low, almost like a whisper, and Kaminari needed all his attention, to not miss a word.

“If you really like that asshole as you say you do,” he started, his voice steady and calm despite the harshness of his words. “then why not risk it and just ask him out? I mean, wouldn't that be better than just staying around watching him without really having any right to do more? Only because you were too scared to risk it? If you have the opportunity to make a move, because you know it is mutual, then you should stop being a pussy and just do it.”

They both remained still a few minutes, the words hanging above their heads in the silence of the room.

He was right.

And yes, Bakugo most of the time was but there was something now, not only in his voice but in his attitude, that made him look more mature, softer. Like if he talked from experience. Something had changed and Kaminari couldn’t tell what, how or when it had happened, but he sure liked it.

“Thanks man” he said and Bakugou hummed again, followed by a long comfortable silence after, the one someone shares with a roommate before going to sleep.

And then Kaminari interrupted it with “Hey, do you know that I have freckles”

“I would say they are more like small moles.”

“Yeah, he said that too!”

Bakugo groaned against his pillow. “Jesus fucking Christ.”

“I know right”

“When the fuck did this become a fucking sleepover talk?”

“The moment you gave me advice. You have exposed yourself, Katsuki. Now give me all those juicy gossips. I heard from Kirishima that there's this cute boy in your Ethics classe-”

Throwing a pilow at him, his friend screamed and cursed, the mature and empathic Bakugo disappearing in a matter of seconds leaving the classic angry dandelion they all loved and appreciated, jumping out of the bed and ready to fight Denki to death.

Kaminari’s giggles turned into peals of laughter once he saw his friend’s blushed face, and Bakugou started to curse even more colorful and louder.

They both ignored the protesting knocks on their door for the noise, as they played catch around the room as if they were kids, the atmosphere turning playful again.

Unsurprisingly, Mina arranged a date even without Kaminari asking.

“I can’t keep watching you two dancing around each other any longer.” She had said, when Kaminari had sent her a fifteen seconds long audio of him screaming “WHYYYYYYYYY”

“It is this sunday, 5.pm., in the east entry of the Amusement Park. And you better go or I will tell Jirou to kick your ass.”

To be honest, she didn’t need to. Kaminari was definitely going.

Sure, he was nervous and embarrassed as heck, but the idea of spending a whole afternoon with Sero, even if it was a fake date, made him shiver with excitement.do de

An hour before the meeting, Kaminari looked at his outfit’s reflection in the mirror for the third time already. He had bought a new pair of ankle boots only for that and even managed to convince Mina to let him one of her furry coats, after many hours of begging and promises of taking care of it over his life.

“Should I do something to my hair?” He asked Kirishima, who was laying on couch, watching lazily Kaminari’s efforts as he ate the last bag of potato chips in the apartment. Bakugou would probably kick his ass for that later but he didn’t seem to care much by his relaxed expression as he chew.

“Nah, leave it like that. Makes you look kinda wild” Perfect, then.

“Should I try cherry red or raspberry fuchsia lipstick?”

“Go fuchsia, man”

The make up were his sister’s, who had looked at him weird when he explained her why he needed it for. “Is it really necessary? It is only your first date with this guy.”

Yes, it was. It was part of the deal.

12:35: hey quick question, are we really doing that date this sunday

12:37: Yeah why not, Mina was so kind in asking me out for you.

12: 38: She said she was done. That we’ve been delaying it too much.

12:42: The nerve of that girl

12:43: Some people have never watch the teletubbies and learnt the important values of life and it shows.

12:45: I can’t believe I got asked out through my friend who also asked out the other person in my name

12:47: It is like a fanfic plot or something

12.48: Where the dudes decide to fake date so their friends can let them in peace

12:50:...and we were fake dating

12:50: omg we were fake dating

12: 55: what the heck does someone even does in a fake date

12: 56: idk, act like they care? Or pretend that they do not care as much as they do, depending on the fanfic.

12: 57: let's turn it into the next level then

12:57: I’m listening

12:58: Let’s care too much.

It had been an hilarious idea, and they both had agreed on it, but as Kaminari walked to their point of reunion he wondered if he hadn’t overdone it. Maybe the lennon sunglasses were just too much.

Act and look like if they were a pairing out of a cliche novel shouldn't be difficult but still, there was this tiny voice in his head that told him that maybe he had went too far, that he would scare Hanta away as all his other dates back then in high school.

But Kaminari wasn’t backing away now. He knew Sero and they had made a deal. He would have to wait to see him to see if he was up to the challenge or if he did got scared.

And he was not disappointed.

Just as they had agreed, Sero had been waiting in front of the ice cream bus track that always parked in front of the Amusement Park, wearing a pair of ripped sky-blue jeans, a turtleneck without sleeves and a fedora to top it all. He was also wearing hipster glasses, the thick black frame positioned elegantly in the arch of his nose, as if they had been made for him. The blonde took a mental note about asking him about his outfit later. Because damn.

The guy was good, Kaminari had to admit, but not enough to beat his raspberry fuchsia lipstick.

“Sorry for the wait. Ready to go?”

Sero turned, following the sound of his voice and Kaminari waited expectantly for a reaction, something in his face that told him that he liked the blonde's outfit.

For a moment it looked like he was about to burst into laughs but Hanta composed himself quickly before smiling charmingly and extending right arm, offering it to the blonde to hold as they walked. Cheesy.

“Ready as I’ll ever be.”

The best thing about autumn was that there was a lot of breeze.

And not the cold winter breeze, that makes your cheeks itch and freezed your fingers, no. But the refreshing autumn breeze that carried leaves around and smelled fresh and clean.

That afternoon though, the only thing Kaminari could smell was the snacks from the food stalls around them.

Denki inhaled deeply as he watched intensely the cans he was supposed to knock down, at least two if he wanted a decent price.

The man running the booth coughed impatiently and the blonde put his best Bakugou resting bitch face while actively ignoring him.

He was about to win this game. The man could wait.

Sero smiled apologetically at the booth's owner before elbowing him softly between the ribs. “Do you know that we still have another games to try, don't you?”

“After I get this one. I've almost done it”

Kaminari closed his eyes, trying to gain all the concentration before he directed his throw at his targets, with the confidence of a winner.

The luck was on his side.

The two cans that he needed fell to the ground, one of them knocking the other one as it fell, and the blonde smiled to the sound of the bell announcing his victory as the man told him to choose his price.

“A well earned plushie for you” Denki said to Sero, handling him the small stuffed animal of a fluffy grey chinchilla hanging from a keychain.

Sero received it with a wide smile, before hanging it from one of his belt loops. “Just for now, so I don’t lost it.” he explained. “This little guy would look perfect in my backpack.”

Humming happily, Kaminari scratched ‘win a plushie for him’ off his to-do-list, satisfaction filling him as he took Sero’s hand on his.

Kaminari couldn’t deny it, he was excited. He kept looking around, searching for activities to do together, trying to complete all the things-to-do in the least time possible.

His eyes sparkled when he saw another objective, Another point of their list that they still hadn’t achieve on sight.

Holding Sero’s hand to make him stop, Kaminari pointed a photo booth some meters behind him, the shiny lights glowing brightly, as if telling them to come inside.

“We gotta immortalise this moment,” he explained, while dragging him inside. “you don’t know when you will have another opportunity of having a fake date”

Hanta laughed as he watched Denki’s fingers roam over the buttons and options, choosing some before changing his mind and choosing again.

“Just choose the one the corniest one.”

“I'm trying to do that but I want them to match with my outfit.”Kaminari hummed before selecting one. “Okay this one is the one. May you do the honours?” He asked, pointing the button that would confirm it all and started taking the pictures.

They decided to get three pictures each once it was over.

“You can choose first.” Sero said, before pointing at the chinchilla hanging of the loop of his jeans. “You just won me this, it would be only fair”

“You bought me cotton candy before. We are technically even”

“Look at this little guy, and tell me he definitely isn't worth more than cotton candy.”

Kaminari didn’t need to look at the small puff the chinchilla was, with its tiny ears and black eyes, and its long and fluffy tail to know that it was the cutest thing he had ever seen.

“You made a damn good point.” He said before giving Sero the ones remaining and saving the other three in the pocket of his furry coat.

“Now let’s get in the line for the rollercoaster again, the one who screams first buys the other one a hot dog.”

“Deal.”

“You know if this wasn't a fake date then we should probably have gone and eaten something for dinner before the food stalls close up.” Sero said, once it started to get dark. Instead, Kaminari had looked at the red sky, orange and yellow mixing as the sun descended on the sea, and nodded his disagreement.

They had time and there was something more important to do now.

“This is a fake date” the blonde reminded him, pointing at the attraction in front of them with decision. “so, as the fake-dating-rules say, we shall get advantage of the sunset and go and watch it in the ferris wheel.”

Sero had looked at the ferris wheel, its colorful lights and the small line for it, before looking back to blonde, whose eyes were shining at the idea of getting up there, the excuse clear as water.

“Everything just to follow the fake dating rules.”

Kaminari smiled like a kid who had just received a candy.

To be fair, the fanfics had a point in using the ferris wheel for the climax of a date.

Sero had to admit the view from the top was pretty breathtaking. All the attraction’s lights and the people gathered around them under the orange sky. He could have appreciate it more though, if Kaminari hadn't been poking him in the leg every time he saw an All Might through the car's window as they ascended more and more.

“Have you notice how many kids are obsessed with All Might since the new season came out?” He had said earlier, when they had come across a group of children wearing the superhero costume. “It sure does bring back memories.”

Sero’s thoughts got interrupted by another poke from Denki, his eyes not moving from the window as he searched for the distinct blonde hairstyle amongst the crowd.

“Oh, there's another one.” Poke.

Hanta guy looked at the boy's features. The sunlight illuminating his face, turning his eyelashes and hair pure gold. It was entrancing,

He looked at the curve of his cheekbones, the small moles spread around the smooth skin and those raspberry colored lips that seemed to never stop smiling.

Sero wondered when it had been the last time he had been that immersed in someone to notice such small details, and to like every one of them.

Never, his brain responded, you’ve never fallen this hard.

If he kissed Kaminari right now, just as when they had joked before getting in, would the boy react well? Would he freeze in surprise, his body stiffening as Sero inclined to hug him? Would he kiss him back? His pretty eyelids closing as his tongue dance with his own?

He could. do it right now and find out. Less than thirty centimeters. He knew he wanted to, he had wanted it for a long time, but the idea of Kaminari rejecting him fueled his hesitation.

Kaminari poked him again, pointing at the window with a wide smile.

“Look there's a mini Eraserhead too!”

Hanta sighed and saw the blonde's eyes sparkling like stars, just as every time he got excited by something.

No, Sero wouldn’t do any move today and that wasn’t something bad

After all, Denki always was a beautiful sight.

After that one attraction they decided they couldn't delay their hunger any longer.

Their stomachs complained loudly, as a reminder that they hadn't received any food since lunch and Kaminari told him he knew a shortcut to the nearest McDonalds.

They got lost because who would have thought the same streets would look so different at night?

Apparently not Kaminari.

The cashier barely blinked when she saw them: two young boys dressed as vintage models, looking exhausted and ready to faint from starvation at any moment.

Kaminari went to search for a table as Sero ordered, releasing himself of the boots once he spotted a free table near the corner.

Checking his phone as he reclined his tired back against the cushions of the sofa, Kaminari unlocked his phone. It had stayed forgotten in his pocket the whole day. He had many messages from Mina(demanding him details about how the day went), a pair of Jirou and even one of his sister, who was asking him when he was free so they could have quality siblings time together.

He didn’t have any intention of answering Mina’s (at least not right now), but he answered Jiro’s and his sister’s before putting it back to his pocket, where he felt the smooth texture of the paper against his fingers.

Kaminari looked at the pictures they had taken on the photo cabin earlier that day, both of them smiling and doing silly poses and expressions. Each of them funny and completely unique.The last one was his favourite though. A picture of they laughing while looking at each other's eyes, totally lost in their own private joke.

Sero appeared a pair of minutes later, carrying a tray with their orders.

“So, a Macnificent, a Big Mac, two big portions of fries and one milkshake to share.”he said, holding two straws up so Kaminati could see them.

The blonde smiled cheekily, an eyebrow playfully raising as he looked at the straws.

“Damn it, boy, you really want to get in my pants, don’t you”

Hanta laughed, his eyes shining with amusement behind his glasses.

“Oh right I've been wanting to ask you, where did you get those glasses?

“They are actually mine” Sero explained as he took a bite of his burger. “though I mostly use them at home.”

“You wear contacts all the time?”

Sero shrugged. “I used to play volleyball in high school, so I had to get use to them.” He quirked his nose as if remembering something painful. “Volleyball and glasses aren't a good match.”

Kaminari cleaned his hands in the napkin before direct them to Sero’s glasses. He pulled them off and then on again, humming thoughtfully as he watched the other guy's face.

“It is weird, no, not weird, but seeing you with glasses… I don't know it feels different.”

“You know I'm nailing the Jeff Goldblum look”

“Blasphemy.” Kaminari said before nodding appreciatively. “But seriously, it isn't bad. think I actually like it.”

“I can't believe you when you are wearing Barney's furr.”

“Tell that right to Mina's face.”

The guy arched an eyebrow before pointing at Kaminari’s mouth.

“Is the lipstick also hers?”

“My sister's. It was this one or cherry red. I look amazing in both either way.”

“Woah you sure took your time to choose your outfit, huh”

Denki rolled his eyes.

“And you are telling me you didn’t? or is that turtleneck yours?” He snatched playfully the hat, Sero's smirk turning wider as Kaminari put it over his own head “And the rest?”

Sero snickered and sipped through his straw before nodding. “We may look extra but that isn't something bad” He looked so happy and relaxed there that Denki’s heart couldn’t help but flutter in his chest.

Christ, this guy was too much for him.

“We do, indeed.”

After that, they walked on silence to the bus stop, hearing the sounds of the street once the night was on its full.

Kaminari had given up on the boots, not willing to put them on again after freeing his feet, so he was walking on his socks now.

“At least until the bus arrives”, he explained to Sero’s exceptical look, “No way I’m walking bare feet on that cold metal.”

That had been once they got out of the restaurant. They were in silence now, the knowledge that the date was close to its end hanging heavy in the air.

“I had fun today” said Sero and Kaminari smiled back at him. He had smiled and laughed so much that day that only by doing that his cheeks hurt. How cool was that? A lot. A hella lot

“Yeah me too, I gotta thank Mina later for this”

He could already see Mina’s knowing-all smile, and her cheeky attitude once he told him how it all went. The worst part is that he really wanted to share it with her. She could be kinda nosy sometimes but she was always there when you need her. Kinda like a heroine.

“What did she say to you to convince you?” Kaminari asked, not even trying to hide his curiosity at that point. The whole day had been a ride (both figurative and literally.) and he was too tired to pretend right now.

“Isn’t being Mina enough?” Sero said and Kaminari nodded in an unspoken “Touché” as the silence sunk between them again.

At least until Sero asked suddenly. “Why do you think she had to convince me?”

The world seemed to stop then.

Kaminari gaped at him, his mind suddenly blank and his cheeks burning. His mouth moved automatically, the words leaving his tongue in an instant.

“Let’s go on a date again.” Both of them blinked at each other and Denki explained quickly: “Not today, of course! I meant another day, you know, without all of this fake dating thing.” Biting his lip nervously he said: “As ourselves.”

He could hear his heartbeats as he waited for an answer, playing with his fingers as he saw Sero’s mouth move in response.

“Bold of you to think I haven't been myself the whole day.”

Kaminari arched an eyebrow, then looked at Seros exposed arms and then back at his face. The guy snickered. He had been obviously kidding, the idiot. How dare he, didn’t he know how nervous he-

“Alright.” Sero said, shutting any complain up inside Kaminari’s head. “Yeah, I’d like that.”

Hanta’s hand reached for his own, playing gently with his fingers before intertwining them and his smile was blinding and beautiful and Kaminari wondered why it took him so much to ask him out, thanking Mina a million times in his head.

“This time for real.” Sero said and Kaminari nodded. He couldn’t wait.

“Dude,” said Kirishima “this universe is so good.”

Kaminari spinned even faster on his chair, the world turning a blur around him. He was feeling particularly anxious that afternoon, which wasn’t contributing to his creative mood. An that was the main reason he had stayed in his room that day, instead of going to the café as always. To finish the rough draft of his project.

That had been the plan but...

“They are not gonna end up together, aren't they?” Kirishima asked and Kaminari winced internally. No, he didn’t plan to. They were only friends, their romantic partners weren’t going to appear until a few more events later.

“Please, tell me Elysia isn’t going to die.” She was already an orphan, no way he wasn’t giving her a happy ending.

“Aren’t you asking too many questions?” Bakugo frowned in confusion, pointing with his chin at the rest of the papers gathered around the carpet. “Isn't it all draw and written there?”

“Yes, but there’s parts that aren’t complete” Kirishima said as he handled the notes to Katsuki.“It is so good”

“It is still a work in progress,”Kaminari explained, as he stand up to open the window. So many spins had made him feel nauseous and he needed some fresh air to calm down a bit. There was also another reason, but he tried to ignore it “Just some ideas written around. I don’t even have a main character yet.”

“How is that possible? Dude, you have no idea how much I love it, I’d write a 34k fanfic about this, I’m dying to get to know more about this world.”

The fact that it was Kirishima the one saying that just made Kaminari’s anxiety grow stronger on his chest. He hadn’t been planning on showing it to his friends yet. Specially not Kirishima. They had just bursted in the middle of it, holding a bag with soda and snacks and declaring it a movie night.

And he was happy to see them, he always was, but he felt like he needed some time for himself for now. To create and think. And definitely not dealing with the pressure of his work being examined by his talented and creative friend.

“You don't have to compete with his ideas or do the same thing you know.” Mina said and Kaminari felt ashamed instantly, despite probably not being his fault at all. She was just too good at reading people.

The girl was looking at him from her position in the bed, far enough so the other two couldn’t hear them. “He doesn't really realises how intimidated people can get just by hearing his opinions, despite them being always positive. He’s that dense about his talent.”

Mina looked at the guys, to Bakugo’s thoughtful expression as he read the profiles of the characters and Kirishima’s excited chatter, showing the spiky blonde some of the landscapes Kaminari had draw.

“But the same goes for you.” continued Mina and Kaminari looked back at those black eyes, which looked at him with sincerity. “Believe me when I say we all admire you as or even much more than you admire us. You create such pretty things, Denki. And you bring them all to live with only a pencil or a brush and it is amazing. Like, really amazing.”

“We also know you had been having a creator’s block since some weeks ago.” Kaminari blinked at that, honestly surprised. He had tried to act like it hadn’t been bothering him but it seemed nothing went over his friends’ heads. Specially when you have someone as observant as Bakugou as your roommate. “Just don’t be scared in telling us your artistic problems, okay? We may not totally understand them but we want to be there for you. For everything.”

“I will, I promise.”

The pink haired girl smiled and layed totally down on his bed, pointing at the two other boys, who were still talking about the project. “You should try to add Sero to the squad you know”

“Oh my god, Mina.”

She shrugged. “If you won’t do it, I will.”

And the worst thing was that Denki actually knew she would.

Sero looked at the board without looking, his fingers tapping softly against the desk, in an imaginary rhythm only he could hear. In the front of the classroom the teacher was explaining something that sure would come in the exam but he had given up on trying to pay attention long ago. (He would have to ask his friends to send him their notes later, the audio he was recording wouldn’t be enough.)

There was only ten minutes left for the class to be over and still it felt like forever. Sero sighed as he unlocked his phone, not even bothering in going unnoticed.

1:20: Hey, do you like sushi?

1:23: is that where you are gonna take me today? ;)

1:23: Yeah, I like it. Let's go for Bubble tea at some point too

1:24: And pair it up with donuts :sparkle: :sparkle: :sparkle:

1:25: you know me ;*

“Who’s that?” Sero startled in the middle of his response and Satou hummed, peeking over his shoulder while trying to read what was on the screen.“Your girlfriend?”

In the seat on his left, Ojiro snickered.

“Don’t you know?” he said, reclining in his chair in the seat on his left as if he was telling them a secret. “He has a date today”

His friends let out a choir of whistles that turned into laughs when they saw Sero’s irritated expression.

“So that’s why you had been distracted the whole class, uh?” Hanta rolled his eyes despite the assumption being absolutely correct. But they didn’t need to know that.

The bell rang and the teacher dismissed them all with a nod and Sero used the opportunity to fled off the classroom, not willing to give any more details to his friends that they will sure save for blackmail him later.

The day was sunny, which was weird, being winter so close, but Sero enjoyed the warm sunlight as he walked to the meeting point, his heart beating strongly in his chest with anticipation.

Kaminari wasn’t there yet, which wasn’t a surprise. Sero had noticed that the blonde always seemed to be running to get on time to his meetings. He tended to get distracted very easily and once he realised how much time has passed, he was already late.

Sero spotted Kaminari as he turned a corner, watching him waiting for the traffic light to turn red before crossing the road.

No ankle boots, lennon glasses nor raspberry lipstick. Just the classic Denki, with his hair tied up in a ponytail and wearing a jean jacket and a simple t-shirt, looking as excited and nervous as he felt.

A date as ourselves.

It wasn’t that unplanned tho. They would go for sushi and watch a movie. Hanta had already bought the tickets, two seats in the middle row (not too close, not too far) for the 10PM play.

In the meantime they could do whatever they wanted.

“Let’s go to the arcade,” Kaminari said, once they got out of the restaurant. They spent two hours there before getting bored and that’s when they started suggesting places to go, dismissing the ones that would take too much time for another occasion.

No to the zoo, yes to the karaoke.

Who would have known that Denki knew a respectable list of 70’s songs?

No to the ice skating parlor, yes to abandoned house near the park.

It was all laughs and fun until they found a creepy doll. They ran their asses outta there.

“I feel like eating ice cream” said Kaminari, once they got near the beach, the colourful light of the Amusement Park shining in the distance. Sero was following some steps behind him, feeling the breeze against his skin and revolving his hair. He felt tempted to take his shoes off and submerge his feet on the sea, hearing the sound of the water splashing with every step he make.

And then he looked up to find Denki doing exactly that. He was already calves in, his jeans rolled up so they didn’t get wet as he jumped around.

“What are you waiting for?” He said and Sero shook his head to him, not even trying to hold back his smile. Because, of course, Denki had had the same impulse. Sero would never get tired of discovering the puzzle Kaminari Denki was.

Leaving his converse next to Denki’s, Hanta ran to the sea, the cold water caressing his skin as he joined the blonde.

Hours later, they were still on the beach, throwing rocks at the sea and competing to see who throw it the farthest. The conversation had died a while ago, both of them enjoying each other’s company under the starry sky.

Kaminari wasn’t paying much attention to the competition though, because right there, sitting that close to Sero on the sand, he could see every feature of his face, from the tip of his ear to the curve of his chin.

Bakugou’s comment echoed inside his head. “Plain”.

“Oh, shit our movie is starting in half an hour” Hanta said, when an alarm on his phone ran off. He didn’t rush Denki as he put his shoes on though, waiting patiently as the blonde shook the sand out of his jeans. “Do you think we have time to get some bubble tea on our way there?”

Yeah, Denki still couldn’t see how an smile like that could have any of ordinary.

“There’s always time for bubble tea.” He answered and the taller guy chuckled, holding his hand as he lead the way to the mall.

Sero’s stupid jokes and Denki’s obnoxious laughs almost got them kicked out of the theater, almost an hour later. They didn’t care though, they were too busy eating the donuts they had hidden in their clothes, sugar powder falling falling on their jeans and covering their cheeks as if they were kids again. Indeed, a perfect date.

Following the map on his phone, Sero took a moment to compare the address before entering into an small neighbourhood. White and beige houses were displayed in order with mailboxes with the family names written elegantly on them and Sero stopped in front of the only house that was breaking the silence, and that coincidentally matched the address that Mina had sent him.

The sound of the drums was loud and probably the reason no one answered the doorbell, so Sero found himself following the tunes through the already open doors of the garage and hoping it didn't count as trespassing. And by the sight of the animal print backpack dropped in one of the wooden chairs of the garden, Sero knew he had found the right house.

Mina had failed to mention that there would have been more people there too. (And it had been on purpose, Sero could tell, after spotting Denki in a corner of the garage, casually playing the guitar as he heard his friends yelling beside him.)

“You gotta get the tempo right! Have in mind that they all will follow you, idiot.” screamed one of them, an ash blonde guy with a frightening scowl and angry red eyes.

“I know!” The guy in the drums responded, a redhead with strong arms and a sprightly smile, that didn’t even flinched when the blonde slapped the back of his head, as if he was used to it.

“Then why do you keep accelerating, you dumbass!” growling, the blonde turned to Denki, noticing Sero’s presence by the corner of his eye.

The sudden silence made the other two to look up to his direction, the spiky redhead barely raising an eyebrow as Denki’s eyes widen in stupefaction.

“What are you doing here?” Denki asked when he approached him. He was smiling though, and Sero felt his body relax under his golden gaze.

“Mina forgot his speaker and told me to get it for her since I was still at uni.” Sero hold the bright pink device up so Denki could see it. “What was all of that?”

Denki smiled sheepishly, his gaze turning at his friends.

“do you see the spiky redhead there? That’s Kirishima. He usually plays the bass but suddenly he decided he wanted to try the drums.” Hanta looked at the boys who were back at their bickering. “Bakugo’s been trying to teach him but he’s too impatient. Mina got tired of them so she went to the kitchen for snacks.” he explained. “Give me a second I will go for her”

Sero felt the gazes turn at him once more after Denki disappeared behind a door. They didn’t say a thing though, they just stayed there evaluating him in terrifying silence while Hanta did his best in trying to ignore them. Denki used to look at him like, before they exchanged numbers and stories.Sometimes he still looked at him like that.

“Sero!” exclaimed a feminine voice and Sero barely had time to blink before a body collided with his and hold him in a tight hug. Mina’s pink curls tickled his neck and Sero chuckled as she released him as fast as she had came. She had already taken the speaker out of his hands before he could say a word. (It wasn’t really a surprise to find out she was already friends with Denki. They both had the same chaotic energy, Sero was more surprised he didn’t take it for granted.)

What happened after that was a blur in his memory. Sero had mentioned something about going back and suddenly Mina was shoving Denki by the wrist at him, saying something about their houses being in the same direction before pushing them both out of the garage and closing the door behind them with an slam.

“Do you tend to do this a lot?” he asked, once he recovered. Denki’s guitar wouldn’t fit on his bicycle so Hanta was leading it as they walked, his eyes fixated on the pavement in front of his feet.

“We are approaching finals so we wanted to release some stress making noise before starting again.”said the blonde “Sometimes when we are all free we give small concerts.”

Hanta turned his head to him so fast he nearly strained his neck, his mouth falling open in shock. “You are kidding me”

Denki tried to hold back his smile by biting his lower lip instead. He seemed kinda proud as he talked. “I’m seriously not. Kirishima’s uncle has an small bar and he lets us play there from time to time.” He turned in a corner and Hanta followed him. They had already passed the avenue that leaded to his own home but Hanta didn't care, he was enjoying the company. “We are trying to find someone that knows how to play the music keyboard so if you are interested, just tell me.” He winked, jokingly and Hanta seriously considered telling him that he actually knew the basics only to see his cheeks turning a cute shade of red.

Denki stopped in front of an apartment building and suddenly the atmosphere was heavy again, crowded in unsaid questions.

“We are here” the blonde said, and Hanta wanted to believe his hesitation was because he didn’t want to say goodbye either. Not yet. “is your house near?”

“We may have passed it already.” Hanta confessed and since he was already doing that, he decided to risk it, trying to ignore his heart throbbing like crazy inside his chest. “I just wanted to expend some more time with you.”

Denki gaped like a fish for a few seconds, his eyes not meeting his as he opened the door, the invitation clear in his tone as he said, “What about a movie then?” and before Sero could say something he was already inside, and the taller guy could swear he saw a hint of redness in his ears.

The blonde’s apartment was on the second floor and it was bigger than Hanta expected, enough for two people to live there without feeling like trapped in a cage. It’s interior was red brick, with a white ceiling that matched the rug that covered the center of the wooden floor.

There were two beds, at the opposite wall of the entrance door, and two personal wardrobes next to each one. A white door was between them, probably the entrance of the bathroom, and windows in the sidewalls.

The small living room was formed by a green sofa, a beanbag and a desk in each sidewall, with two shelves above each of them.

The blonde had told him that he shared the place with Bakugou, so Hanta was expecting his side to be kinda rough, something that was a resemblance of his attitude.

Intead, Bakugo's side was impeccable, and it was Kaminari's side the one that looked chaotic, painting utensils, clothes, manga and papers were scattered everywhere, as if it was a tornado’s doing.

But the most noticeable thing was the canvas that was displayed on the sofa, a painting of a woman with her eyes closed and flowers in her hair, her golden curls adorning a face covered in freckles.

“She's my mom” Kaminari said and Hanta noticed that while he was there daydreaming, Denki had already picked everything up. “It is my best painting so far.”

And he might not said it, but Hanta had the feeling that it was also the most important for him.

“You look a lot like her.” Hanta said and Kaminari smiled, trying to ignore the ache he felt on his chest, a pain he felt every time he saw the painting.

It was a bittersweet feeling, of having someone you lost in front of you, so detailed and perfect and still, finding it lacking: no trace of the sound of her laugh, the shine of her eyes, the tinkle of her voice as she called him and his sister for dinner.

It was empty, and still, it managed to fool his eyes.

“I get that a lot.” Denki responded. “It seems I took a lot after her and my sister after my dad. I don’t have the curls or freckles tho, as you can see.”

In all honesty, Kaminari forgot the painting was there, he had gotten used to think it was inside his closet, hidden of the world and his own eyes. But his sister had com to visit the day before and he knew he couldn’t not tell her about it, between her visit, that lasted until midnight, and the early band practice from today, Denki had forgotten everything about the painting,that was there in the middle of his sofa for everyone to see.

Sero hummed thoughtfully before asking,“And why the flowers?”

The question shouldn’t have hurt so much.

“They are lillies. She loved nature. Our whole house looked like a flower shop, we had so many plants there.” It still did. His father never stopped taking care of her plants, no matter how tired he was after a full day of work. His father, who had to raise two children alone and that drinked tea instead of coffee since she passed away. “She didn’t seem to have a favourite though, so I had to do my research on them to decide which one I should choose.”

He didn’t dare to ask his father if she had a favourite plant. He was the man that lost his heart but kept living nevertheless.

The love story of their parents always amazed him. A college girl who met his future husband in a beach concert. A guy that played in a rock band and that fell for the girl whose arms were covered in flower tattoos, petals and leaves decorating her skin.

“Yellow lillies are beautiful and elegant.” explained Kaminari, brushing softly with his fingertips the painted blossoms.“They also symbolize thankfulness and desire of enjoyment. There’s people who associates them with negative meanings, bad luck, falsity, as well as happiness or joy.” Kaminari wondered what kind of face he was making. Was it reflecting the homesickness he was feeling? “I decided to stay with desire of enjoyment. Because my mom was like that, free and soft and extraordinary.”

Their mom told his sister that falling in love with their father was easy, that she felt so quickly that it was alarming. And that still, she felt no fear, because her love was bigger than it. A love like that. So big, so deep. So easy.

It sounded like a fairy tale and still, he witnessed it, how they were around each other. As if they were about to burst into a musical at any moment,

“Disgustingly in love”, would say his sister, always smiling.

“She sounds like an amazing person.” Hanta said, and Denki blinked away the tears he didn’t know that were gathering in the corner of his eyes.

“She was.” he agreed and then he added, “I still can’t decide which one of you makes a better coffee though.”

Sero looked at the calendar and counted again the days he had left until his deadline. Almost a month. Then he counted the days he would need to study for his other exams, the homework he still had to do and the courses that would probably leave him more. That leave him with two weeks more or less. Two weeks to finish the prototype of a videogame for the most important course of the semester.

He should have started it already. Actually, he had but he didn't plan on using that first attempt as his final work. So he was behind the schedule, but it was alright, because he would rather sacrifice some nights of sleep now than later, he would the energy once exams arrive.

It wasn’t a pleasant thought, tough.

Maybe if he finished on time he could ask Denki out again, maybe this time to the zoo, or any of the other places they had agree to visit another time, in their latest date.

Sero knew it would be impossible. By the time he’d finish, exam's week would had already started, and Denki would be busy with his own exams as well. Hanta hoped he wasn't as stuck as he was with his project, because the blonde had been sending him his ideas for already three weeks and Sero thought that it would be a shame if he didn’t see the end of that story.

What was the advice he had told to Denki, around two months ago, about being a creator?

“Have confidence and determination and then the talent would bloom” Hanta whispered to his ceiling. Or something amongst those lines.

Where did that come from? Definitely a moment of inspiration, Sero couldn’t imagine himself saying something like that again, not even in his best pep-talk.

But he did, once, and Denki had believed him and the prove of it wa sthe pictures he had now of his phone, sketches and messy notes that created new worlds by themselves.

Finish on time. Do it right.

He didn’t need to choose between them if he made other decision instead.

Sighing, Hanta picked up and dialed the numbers of the Coffee Whim.

“It is finals week in our uni” Shouji said when Kaminari had asked him about Sero's absence. “He has taken the last two weeks off, though I wouldn't be surprised if he didnt come some days after. You know how tiring it can be”.

Kaminari had nodded and thanked for the coffee before going back to his place on the sofa.

He hasn't seeing Sero since that movie night, almost three weeks ago. They hadn’t text much either, between his classes and homeworks, the blonde’s energy focused on study to pass his exams, that were just about to start that week. And now, knowing that Sero was the busy one made it impossible.

So the week passed, with the café empty and no sign of Sero, Kaminari coming everyday once the afternoon started and his exams were over, looking at the register and sitting on the table beside the window, drawing and writing, his story taking form in front of his eyes as the ink filled the white pages of the notebook. An story about a ordinary character, that by being surrounded by the unconvencional, was unique.

A knock on the door brought Sero back to the reality.

The door opened swiftly to show his mother, holding a tray with sandwiches and a big milkshake and the boy’s stomach growled loudly with hunger. “I brought some snacks.” she said and just then Sero realised he had been working non stop for seven hours. His fingers felt cramped and his back and neck felt as tense as a violin cord. The incomplete software was shining in his laptop screen, reminding him the time left he had to finish it and some parts of the story he still had to add. But those sandwiches looked good and so did the milkshake, and his mother had made them for him after arriving home after work so Sero decided to stop for a minute. He needed a break.

His mom stayed in the room, sitting besides him in the bed as she watched him eat, her black eyes shining in relief and the slight hint of an smile in the curve of her lips. She was still wearing her work attire, a long tube skirt with a white blouse and a red handkerchief around her neck. She hadn’t even took his make up off and Sero felt a wave of love filling his chest despite the numb state his brain was at the moment. His mom sure was the best.

“How was work?” he asked, once his stomach calmed enough to let his brain formulate words. There was only one sandwich left but Sero concentrated on the milkshake, enjoying the sweet flavour against his tongue.

His mom shrugged. “Kinda boring.”

“No interesting stories then?”

“Oh no, there's always drama in the airport. Nothing really remarkable this time tho.” her long red nails brushed his hair from the front to the back, as she did when he was a kid. He must really look horrible if she was doing that. “What about you? Are you close to finish it?”

Hanta didn’t look at her eyes.“Something like that.”

“One of those days, uh” Sometimes she could read him too easily.

Sero fidgeted in his chair, suddenly interested in the shelf in front of his bed, his figures way more interesting than his mother evaluating gaze.

“Remember when your brother taught you how to ride a bike?” she said after a moment and Sero couldn’t help but raise a brow..

Teach was an overstatement.

“You mean when he just left me in the top of an slope and waited for me to do it by myself.”

“Yes, I taught him that way too”

Sero hold back a laugh. So that's why his brother never got grounded.

“Also he told me you already knew the basics, it was time for him to let you go.”

“Debatable.”

She ignored him.

“I've seen many parents helping their kids when they learn. And I did that too, at the beginning.”

“Marco only did it like four or five times” Sero replied.

“More than enough. I only did it tree times for him.”

“Jesus, mom.”

“Don’t be like that, it was a very small slope.” She said “what i mean is that sometimes kids just need to prove the hardest thing, just to acquire something more important that succeed: experience. Oh, don't look at me like that, niño. Or are you gonna tell me that you didn’t enjoy the rush of adrenaline once your brain assimilated the fear and proceed to act? Overcoming it and try to do something. Anything! Because If you were going to fall, you would fall by your own terms.” Her soft hand cupped his cheek and Sero reclined in it.

“Sometimes i feel like you have changed a little with your experiences, but that’s okay, because you are still turning out and you learn from your mistakes. Just remember that I will always be here to remind you that sometimes it is better to take a risk. In everything.”

She kissed his forehead and Sero sighed, inevitably.

“Don’t doubt and don’t be scared, because when you are already falling you have nothing to lose. And knee scraps almost never leave scars.”

He was late.

The teacher had had a problem with her car and the class representative had told them to wait for another hour until she arrived. They just couldn't leave their notebooks, she wanted to ask them about them, confirm that they were the right authors and to exploit every piece of information they had not noted.

So they needed to wait.

The hours seem to last eternities and Kaminari had never hated that his last name was one of the lasts in the list.

The traffic was a disaster too. Winter had came and with it the snow and half of the buses in the city were stuck in the traffic. More time passed as he waited for a bus that never seemed to came and Kaminari was late, so he decided to ran.

He ran through the cold streets, his breath creating puffs in the cold air as he ran all the way to the café.

He wished it didn’t close, that maybe Sero was still there, delaying it because someone told him that Denki had gone there everyday and that he planned to do the same that day too.

And Kaminari ran. And he wished.

Sero had closed the cafe late that day.

It had been a busy day. It was the last day of finals and the eve of a long vacation term and the college students felt like treating themselves with caffeine and sugar after having survived hell.

Mineta was still mia (he would call him later, the dude always overdone it for finals) and Shouji had left early so he could go out with his (boy)friend. (Sero had to insist. He had been the only one working while the rest of them studied. He deserved the break.) He himself had finished his exams the day before, and he had never felt prouder of presenting a work on time. (He slept for fifteen hours after that, practically fainting on top of his bed with a victory smile.)

Right then though, he took orders, prepared, served and even greeted some friends and familiar faces, compensating for the days of absence with even more energy while doing his tasks.

“A vanilla cappuccino and a macchiato” a voice said and Sero looked up from the register to found himself in front of Denki’s roommate and friend, Bakugou, who was looking as exhausted and dead inside as everyone else.

Hanta wondered if he should greet him or try to make an small conversation, after all he had been in the guy’s house, but Bakugou didn’t make any sign of recognising him. Instead, the blonde looked silently at the small box next to the register before picking up one of the chocolate chips cookies bags displayed in it, not willing to look at Sero at the eyes as he asked for the price.

“I thought Denki would have been here” Bakugou said, while receiving his change. Hanta frowned in confusion.

“I hadn’t seen him in weeks”

“You must be blind then because he had come everyday in the last week”. Sero’s eyes widened in surprise and the blonde looked at him with curiosity before going back to his table, handling the cookie bag to the freckled guy that was waiting him there.

Hanta repeated that part of the conversation in his head for the rest of the night, unaware of the passing of the time as he swept the floor and cleaned the tables.

He didn’t notice the clock marking that it was already half an hour after closing time, or the clumsiness of his movements as tiredness started to affect him.

And once he heard the footsteps and the doorbell as the doors opened, every sign of exhaustion vanished from his body, his heart stopping for a second at the sight of a messy blond, with his cheeks and hands pinks for the cold and his breath uneven as he gasped, “A coffee, please”

Compared to outside, the Coffee Whim was cozy and warm and Kaminari’s muscles relaxed at the change of temperature.

Hanta had gone behind the counter, opening and closing cupboards before pouring the ingredients in the machine with ease.

Denki just observed, taking every detail of him in, trying to find small changes compared to the last time they had met. But aside from the bags under his eyes, practically hidden behind the frame of his glasses, he found none and he found it more comforting than he thought.

An small cup was slid softly to his direction and Kaminari looked down to the smiley face Sero had draw on the foam, the sweet smell of the coffee filling his nostrils before taking it to his lips.

“This…” he whispered, after a long sip and Hanta’s smile made Kaminari’s heart made a somersault in his chest.

“This time it is not a Nevado, it is too cold for that.” Sero explained, “ But I thought you might needed something sweet. This is the warm and original version: An Arequipe Latte.”

Kaminari sighed happily, his body welcoming the hot drink as his tongue drowned in its sweet taste. A cozy feeling filling him from head to toes the more he drank it.“I'm gonna marry you one of these days.” he said and Sero huffed at his dramatism.

Once he had finished it all, the blonde asked, “I see your finals are over. How did it go?”

Hanta shrugged. “It was rough, not gonna lie, but it turned out fine at the end. Very good actually, I’m satisfied with the results.” He poked kindly Denki’s hand, positioned on top of the wooden table. “And yours?”

“I won't know the results till monday but I'm positive.” Denki thought of his project, his explanation of it and the teacher's face as she checked the notebook. He closed his eyes at the memory of her asking him if she could keep it for a few days and the encouraging smile she gave to him before closing the door behind him. “I really want to nail this.”

“I’m glad to hear that. I’m sure you are gonna kick some asses there.”

Denki mirrored his smile and then there was silence between them again, a comfortable one, as they both lost in the comfort that being with each other was.

At least until Kaminari’s phone rang, the pop song cutting the atmosphere like a knife.

It wasn’t nothing important, only an old alarm he had forgotten to deactivate, but it reminded Denki how late it was, his muscles suddenly aching with the realization.

“I think it is time to go home” he said, rather hesitantly, as he got up of the chair. He didn’t make any more move though, watching Hanta as he put his coat on and turning the last lights off before getting next to him to walk to the bus stop together.

The snow had already started to accumulate in the streets by the time they spotted the bus stop from afar, and despite being a cold night, Kaminari found himself extending his arm to catch the snowflakes, even if they gave him goosebumps when they made contact with his skin. Carefully, Hanta took his hand on his own to put them both in his coat’s pocket, protecting them of the cold temperature, the warm of his palm transfering to his own.

“You know, I tend to do stupid things when I’m tired.” said Sero, as they approached more and more their destination. Their steps had turned slower though, prolonging their time together as long as possible neither of them wanting to say goodbye.

Hanta hadn’t let go his hand yet, and Denki felt his hand squeeze his as Sero turned his body to face him, so close, he could see through his glasses clearly.

“Really? I do them all the time” said Kaminari, suddenly out of breath and his eyes roamed over Hanta’s features, searching for any sign that revealed a doubt, a rejection. There was none. Quite the contrary even, as Denki watched his lips quirk in a shy smile, the blush extending to his ears as Hanta looked back at him, at his lips. “It must be really annoying.”

“It is,” Hanta said and then there was a hand caressing softly Denki’s cheek, raising his chin with cold fingers and touching lovingly the corner of his mouth, and the blonde felt a dejavu as he felt his breath against his skin, his heart stopping as Hanta whispered, “but I think I won’t call it a mistake this time.”

The long awaited kiss was soft and tender, almost shy, and both guys closed his eyes as they hugged each other closer, their lips parting almost immediately with craving. It tasted sweet and slightly bitter and Denki stood on his tiptoes to get to taste more of it.

Hanta and coffee, coffee and Hanta.

He almost whined when they had to separate to breath, joining their foreheads together as Hanta chuckled against his mouth.

“Suddenly I feel like drinking coffee again.” He said and Denki pulled him down by the collar of his coat because for the first time on his life, he did not. He found that he liked Hanta’s lips even more.

#coffee whim #kamisero #full cowl bang #coffee shop au #alternate universe #bnha

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