#skip forward to today. now that we don’t do that cleaning shit anymore bc that phase lasts 2 weeks at best

[ilguna]

managers really think they know it all, huh?

[honey-makki]

Firsts

Characters: Tsukishima Kei X Fem!Reader

Summary: Fate works in mysterious ways to bring people who are destined to be together, to actually be together. 

Warnings: Sex!! blow jobs, face riding, virginity loss 

Genre: fluff, smut

Word Count: 5k

A/N: Well this started as a drabble request but here I am a week later with a 5k fic about it. Soft tsukki inbound. I hope you enjoy @salty4tsukki bc I def enjoyed writing this.

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Being an only child is not a precursor to being lonely. Memories of family game nights, shared dinners and movies watched filled the air of your house letting you know that you were both never alone and, oh, so loved. 

You knew that having as healthy a home environment was unusual and that it was part of the reason that you are so emotionally intelligent. Many of your peers couldn’t stand their parents and found every excuse to avoid being home. Sure, you and your parents had arguments about curfew or the number of texts you sent every month. The last argument happened every time you brought home a grade that was unsatisfactory, which wasn’t often, but consistent enough that it was a recurring problem. 

“I’m just tired of them expecting me to be perfect! It’s unreasonable for them to expect perfect grades, being on a starter for the soccer team, and involved in other clubs! I’m only one person.” You ranted to Tsukki, sulking around his room before plopping on his bed, arms covering your sighing face.  Tsukki was the only person you came to with family problems because you knew he would understand and not push you. The usually sassy boy always softened these days, knowing that this was the one thing that you couldn’t handle being teased about. Today, he looked at you with soft pity, knowing the amount of work you put towards everything just to be told it’s not enough.

“I could tutor you in English if you want? I know we have our usual pre-exam study sessions, but I really don’t mind making them more regular if you think they would help.” Tsukki might listen to you complain but he still isn’t the best at empathy, rather resorting to problem-solving. He showed his care and compassion to you subtly. Offering his solutions in a way you could make them sound like your own, knowing that provided a semblance of comfort. Allowing you into his room whenever you needed to complain and not questioning your feelings. Always offering you a hoodie or jacket when you were worn out from crying, knowing that the warmth would lull you into a much-needed sleep

You knew he cared about you. Yes, sometimes you over exaggerated your feelings to take advantage of that, but only because you wanted his jacket on your body. The thought that it was his arms rather than just a Tsukki scented cloth surrounding you. Only crying a little harder with the hopes he would offer to have a movie night which always meant cuddles. No, you never faked your feelings to him, not wanting to lie to your best friend and consistent childhood companion, you just embellished them.

Relishing in the fact that for maybe, just ten minutes that Tsukki wasn’t just your best friend, that he grew past friends as he aged, and saw you like more, as his other half. The person he wanted to spend not only his childhood years with but also every single one he still had left. 

You aren’t sure when you fell in love with Tsukishima Kei.

It could have been his moment against Shiratorizawa when you saw him truly experience joy for the first time in the sport he spent so much time. It could have been the time he gave you his rain jacket when it was pouring before you walked home, knowing it wouldn’t do much against the downpour, but the barrier being symbolic. It could definitely have been the time you went over to study and you walked in on him singing to himself while studying, the soft tenor notes gracing your ears. You only really remember how his voice made your heart skip a beat, the flush of his ears when he turned around catching your eyes.

All you know is that you were hopelessly in love with the man who had been with you every step, every stumble of your life. The man who towered over you but never made you feel smaller than he, the man that laughed before checking on you when you tripped, but always ensuring you were truly ok. 

Watching him grow into his height and his body gaining muscles during highschool was both a blessing and a curse. Your eyes were drawn to his figure, shoulders hunched over on his desk, deltoids peeking out of the sleeves in a way that made you want more. Yes, you loved looking at him but sometimes it plagued you. 

Eyes scrunched shut and heavy breathing, all you can think about is what Tsukki might look like under those clothes. It was a curse, lewd thoughts of your best friend being the only way you could get off anymore. That didn’t stop you from plunging two fingers in and out for your dripping cunt edging yourself closer to your release. At the precipice, you pull your fingers out and eagerly circle your clit, the other hand moving from gripping the bedsheets to pulling at and groping your nipples. Tsukki’s name leaves your lips like a fervent prayer as you cum to the thought of him. You never felt worse about yourself than you did at this moment, but somehow you found yourself here regularly. 

You didn’t know that at that exact same moment Tsukki was in his room thinking about you. The way your smaller hands would fit around his dick, the hesitation you might experience but be driven forward by lust. The thought of being the first and maybe the only person to touch you always drives him to his release. 

He might have fooled around with some girls before, a handjob here and there, amidst a make-out session, but he could never find it in himself to go further. He couldn’t, no, didn’t want to be with anyone else, because he knew that the whole time he would be thinking about you under him.

As you had aged, sleepovers became less frequent but were something the two of you still cherished and actively made time for. Tonight is one such night, having just finished your final midterms and gorging yourself on celebratory ramen from your favorite shop. Tsukki’s parents were out of town for the week, but were used to your presence in the house and didn’t mind you being over. 

You being there should have been fine, nothing out of the normal but that's not how fate works. 

Once you arrived at his place you both changed into lounge clothes getting ready to binge the latest season of Game of Thrones. You went to the kitchen to grab you both some water, knowing neither of you will want to get up once you start.

Tsukki must have had the same idea because as you rounded the corner of the kitchen, you were met with a brick wall and a frigid wave running through your body. You realized it wasn't through your body when your nipples began to harden, peaking through your now translucent shirt. While you are still shocked at the chill, Tsukki looks down to see what happened. Instead what he sees is you, accidentally exposed, the white shirt clinging to the curve of your body like a second layer of skin.

He knows that if he doesn’t avert his gaze that he won't be able to suppress a rising tent in his pants. Committing the image to memory quickly, he apologizes for being in the way, “Shit Y/N, I’m sorry. Feel free to go grab one of my shirts to change into. I’ll clean the mess up.” With that, he moves towards the kitchen to grab a towel, brushing against your body in the narrow hallway.

You head up to his room and go to his dresser, you’ve watched him put his laundry away before, knowing exactly where he keeps his biggest and most comfortable shirts. You strip off your shirt, skin pebbling at the breeze from his fan. Blushing at the fact you are taking your clothes off in your crush childhood friend room, you strip off your lounge shorts now noticing they also have been soaked.

As you pull his practice jersey on you notice it reaches your midthigh, which causes a brief internal conflict. Should I grab a pair of his shorts even though I know they’ll be too big? This shirt is longer than my shorts were anyways, but it’s not the most decent thing. The deciding factor in opting for no shorts was nothing to do with you, rather with the man waiting patiently downstairs. It had everything to do with the glint of intrigue in Tsukki’s eye you spotted earlier, the almost imperceptible hitch in his breath, and the burning touch he left on your body as he passed you in the hallway. 

Tsukki was not even thinking about what you would look like in his clothes as he had more urgent problems. His cock was achingly hard in his sweatpants, the gray not doing him any favors of hiding how he felt about seeing your body. He was doing everything he could think of to suppress both the thoughts of you and blood rushing downstairs. 

After quickly cleaning up the spill, he got situated on the couch with a blanket hoping it would help hide his current problem as he got it under control. Tsukki spent the remaining time of your absence struggling to distract himself, reciting poetry meditating, anything to not think about it, think about you, think about the curve of your che- fuck he was failing.

His eyes shot open at your weight landing next to him on the couch. Subtly looking over your form, that he now has burned into the back of his eyelids, seeing you drowning in his clothes, his volleyball clothes. Wait, is she just wearing my shirt? His gaze lingering on the soft expanse of your thighs, knowing that he should be able to see the hem of your shorts with the way you are sitting. The thought of you in your underwear almost makes him moan, his already hard dick twitching with precum budding at the tip.

You shoot him a smile, apologizing for taking so long and say you're ready to watch if he is. After some time has passed, the air is nipping at on your still slightly wet skin, you scoot closer to Tsukki and get under the blanket with him. The slight abrasion from his sweats on your skin sent electricity tingling throughout your body and unknowingly did the same to him. 

Reaching forward to grab a glass of water after a particularly gruesome scene, your phone tumbled out of your lap. Not really thinking you lean forward and grab it, slightly raising your ass into the air to reach the last few inches. You plop back down with a grunt and throw your arms open, hoping Tsukki would know that this is your way of saying you needed to take a break from the show for a bit.

Neither of you expected the moan that escaped his lips as you brushed across his now very obvious erection. Neither of you knew what to do after either, he flushed red with embarrassment and hid his face, you with your arm still where it landed on his thigh, unable to move. “Y/N, can you please move?.” he barely chokes out. The obvious restraint in his voice was a sound you had only previously daydreamed of. 

Driven by lust, or excitement, maybe even fear that another opportunity would arise, you do move, but not in the way he had intended. You get up off the couch and he's sure that you are getting ready to leave, disgusted with him, but instead, you settle in on your knees between his thighs. Doey-eyes looking up through your lashes with hesitant excitement. “Ok, I’ve moved, what next?”

Is the one thing he dreamed about is really happening? The actuality of it seems almost incredulous. “Y/N, stop joking, I’m sorry about this. They just kinda, happen sometimes.” He can’t meet your eye because he’s sure he would cum just from the sight of you between his legs. 

“If you don't want me here Kei, I’ll move, but I’m serious.” As you say his first name, another moan comes from his throat, spurring you to action. Biting your lip, you move the blanket and hesitantly grasp his erection. 

Tsukki is hazy with confusion but simultaneously everything is crystal clear with pleasure, unable to focus on anything due to the duality inside his head. Even if he wanted to tell you to stop, to stop and think, he wouldn’t be able to choke out the words.

He notices you aren’t really moving which is driving him mad until he looks down and sees just how pure you look. “Kei, I don’t-- I don’t really know what to do. Just tell me what you like and I’ll do my best.”

“Princess, are you sure you still want to do this?” as he pulls you up to eye level, cupping your cheeks. Seeing your nod and nervous smile, he leans forward to kiss you. 

The chill that had previously permeated your body is replaced with warmth, the feeling of his soft lips moving in time with yours, his gentle but assertive grip on your back acting as heat sources. It’s a comfortable warmth, an invitation into him.

You plan on taking that invitation as he deepens the kiss, one hand in the hair at his nape, the other returning to palm him through his sweats. As he stops your kiss, holding in a groan you take that opportunity to return to your original position in front of him. Waiting patiently, looking up at him for instruction with an absolutely pornographic gaze. 

Tsukki thought the image of your chest was the best thing he would ever see, but this takes the cake. Your hands playing with the waistband, with slight hesitation before pulling both his bowers and sweats down with his assistance. 

You knew what a dick looked like, but that doesn’t mean you are any less intimidated when one is just a few inches from your face. Long and curved, a prominent vein running up to the head that is flushed red and slick with precum. His hand rests on your head with the other on his thigh. Seeing his excitement on his face gives you enough encouragement to kitten lick his tip two times. “Fuck Y/N, please don’t tease me,” his voice wavering between a moan and a whine, you’ve never heard him sound so dependent, so needy before. 

Knowing that you are the one doing this to him gives you the confidence to start taking his dick in your mouth. You pause at the head, moving your tongue around, unsure what feels good until his grip on your head tightens as you rub against the bottom, just before the shaft. “Fuck pretty girl, please move your head down, please I wan--” A groan cuts him off as you follow his command. Slowly starting to bob along a portion of his length, with increasing speed.

“Spit on your hand and stroke the rest, god your mouth is heavenly” after pulling off to follow his command, you finally notice the familiar Tsukki-induced burning in your stomach, but amplified by a hundred when you see his cock twitch as you spit into your hand. He watched you with half-lidded eyes as you positioned your hand under your mouth, whispering uncharacteristically gentle words of praise.

Soft moans fall out of his mouth as you swirl your tongue around his head on every upward movement. Your hand mimicking the speed of your lips, trying to give him as much pleasure as you can. One particular comment of his shoots straight to your core, “Y/N, I never imagined you would make me feel this good.” The implication of him thinking about this, the same way you have, makes you moan around his dick, which in turn elicits a sharp intake from Tsukki.

His grip has been tightening on your head slowly, but all of a sudden he pulls you off. “Don’t wanna cum in your mouth without asking, just hand me a tissue.”

You never imagined Tsukki making the type of sound he did when you artlessly stuttered out “W-Well you have my permission.” 

Returning your tongue to his tip, which is now angrily red and coated in both spit and precum, it only takes a few seconds before he bucks into your mouth as he orgasms. His cock reaches further than you expected resulting in you choking as he hits the back of your throat, unintentionally intensifying his orgasm.

He pulls you off of him, grimacing at the cold air hitting his spent dick, bending forward to look you in the eye.. “Pretty girl, I’m so sorry for that last bit, I didn’t mean to hurt you. Are you ok?”

The pressure of his thumb wiping off a few spare tears makes you wonder what his touch would feel like on the rest of your body. As your mind delves into lewd thoughts, you shift your thighs looking for some pleasure, and give him an absentminded “It was fine, unexpected but I wanna make you feel good.”

He carefully sits you in his lap and pulls you into a deep kiss, slow but hungry. He moves down your jaw to your neck before whispering “Well, I guess it’s my turn to return the favor huh.” You bite back your moan, but as he harshly sucks a spot at the base of your neck it slips out. “You don’t have to hide your noises, princess, let me know how good everything feels.”

He runs his hands up and down your sides underneath his shirt before they find your chest. “I can’t tell you how many times I’ve imagined these.” You tug your shirt off and do the same to him. Both of you are just marveling at the beauty in front of you with lust. 

He makes the first move, gently bringing your right nipple into his mouth, swirling his tongue around it, as his left-hand switches randomly between rubbing along your side and massaging your left boob. The warmth of his tongue flicking against your pebbled bud is miles better than your own fingers, endless breathy moans falling out of your mouth as you find purchase for your hands in his hair. 

You must be unconsciously rutting against him because he stops his ministrations and stills your hips with a harsh grip. “Feeling needy now? Let me take care of you.” Tsukki rolls you off of him and you expect him to get on his knees in front of you, making you clench your knees both out of excitement and embarrassment. 

So when he lays down on the floor in front of you and shoots you a smug smirk, “Come take a seat,” your jaw drops in shock. 

“No, Tsukki, you don't have- What if I don’t taste good, please don’t worry about it-I don't want to suffoc-”  excuses and concerns pour out of your mouth but your body betrays you at the thought of him licking your sex.

“Y/N. Get over here. I want to do this and I’ll ensure you enjoy it.” His tone was commanding enough that you moved from the couch to straddling his head without a thought, losing your panties along the way. Your mind is murky with lust and anticipation, thoughts of how many times you’ve imagined his tongue on your clit being the only thing breaking through the fog. 

His tongue pierces through the haze as he runs the flat of it along your entire soaked core. Your body wants to pull away from the pressure but buck into the pleasure at the same time but Tsukki makes the decision for you, wrapping his arms around your thighs so you are snug against his face. 

He repeats the action, trying to coax a moan out of you, adding a little more force each time. It isn’t until the bridge of his nose brushes your clit that you finally let out the noises you’ve held in. “Kei- hi- fuck- higher,” breathy moans coat your words in lust.

 “Your wish is my command, princess.” His smug tone would have been annoying except for the fact that he was pressing hesitant licks against your clit eventually circling it with the tip of his tongue. You have no control over the whines you are making, only broken up by saying “yes Kei, yes, fuck” and other words of praise

Knowing how it felt when you moaned around his dick, he tries humming with his lips surrounding your clit and if he wasn’t already hard, he sure is now after the way you lewdly moaned his name and fiercely tugged his hair. 

The view of your tits heaving along with your breaths drive him to be a little more aggressive with his tongue, mercilessly switching between toying with your folds to harshly drawing shapes into your clit. 

Your cunt is drowning Tsukki in slick, coating his face and chin and he’s never been happier. Sucking your folds and using his tongue to taste all of you. He can't believe that anything has ever tasted better than you do right now.  

He can tell by the legs squeezing his head, and the shake of your entire body you are close to your orgasm. Wanting to try something new, he slides his tongue into your hole, causing you to grip his blonde locks so hard, you probably pulled some out. 

The wanton moans reverberating through the room are the only encouragement he needs to keep pressing his tongue against your tight walls. Your cunt so desperately wants to be filled its almost sucking his tongue in, but you know that alone won’t be enough to make you cum.

“ ‘m close, fuck. Please my clit, Kei please” The loss of his pressure in your cunt is overridden by the shockwaves of his lips around your clit, paired with him tracing letters and a deep moan from his throat. That was all you needed to be pushed over the edge. His moan continues as you ride out your high, hips jerking forward at the intensity.

As he pulls you into a sitting position on his lap, “Obviously I didn’t need instructions on how to make you feel good. I’ve thought about this for years.” You aren’t clear-headed enough to slap him like you usually would. All you can think about is the painful tension already building again in your core and his painfully hard dick pressed into your thigh.

You pull him into a kiss that conveys your unspoken words. Full of need and lust and wanting to make up for all of the time you lost. Your lips meet his harshly, like if you stop that it might disappear, afraid to pull back for air.

As he moves to your neck you instinctively rut your hips against him, looking for some form of release. Growling into your ear, “Oh, so one wasn't good enough for you? You want another orgasm?” 

“Well, It’s obvious you want another one,” matching his smugness with another roll that causes him to groan.

Before you can recognize it, he's flipped you over on your back and is hovering over you, eyes committing every inch of you to memory, drinking in the sight of your body, pebbled nipples, slick coating your thighs, love marks he's left thus far. It’s almost enough to make him go feral. 

Almost. 

“Y/N, are you sure you want to do this? We can stop. I really don’t mind.” The concern in his voice is clearly fighting against the lust, just barely winning over his more carnal desires. His answer comes in the form of your hand grabbing his dick and giving it a few soft, needy strokes.

“Please Tsukki, I need you in me. I’ve thought about this for so long, no way am I stopping” 

“Alright pretty girl,” and with that he returns to your deep kiss, your lips feeling like a home he never knew he left. He brings his hand down to your core, ghosting his fingers on your lips before teasing one finger in slowly. 

You hiss at the pleasure, hands finding stability rooted in his shoulders. He takes your bottom lip in between his teeth to help distract you while he rocks it in and out of your pussy. Quickly, he could tell that you were ready for a second and slipped it in, being met with you clawing at his shoulders while letting out a wanton moan.

Tsukki moves to place wet kisses along your neck and down to your chest, sucking every once in a while and then following it with a swipe of his tongue. You miss the pressure on your mouth, but you can feel another orgasm building, and it's getting harder to breathe. 

You genuinely do stop breathing when he takes one nipple in his mouth and uses his free hand to start rubbing circles into your clit. Well, if this is the way I die, I don’t really have any complaints. The coil in your stomach is about to snap and the only warning you can get out is slapping his shoulders.

The wave almost knocks you out, back arching off the floor while also trying to get more from the man between your legs. Inserting a third finger stretched you so good, he watches you try to fuck yourself on his hand through the orgasm, greedily wanting more. 

“You ready, pretty girl? Ready to take my cock?”

“Shit yes, Kei, please fuck me. I’ve dreamed about cumming on your dick, please please--” you are reduced to babbling pleas when he runs his dick along your slit coating himself in your slick. The jolt of pleasure every time his head hits your already over-stimulated bud edges on pain but you don’t want him to stop. 

You see stars and hear symphonies when he thrusts into you. A duet of his staccato grunts and your euphonic moans, accompanied by the fortissimo sounds of your pussy as he slides in. After taking a rest for you to adjust to his girth, his pace starts off slow but gradually increasing as you beg him for more. 

“Fuck, please, fill me up, god I never thought your cock would feel so good, Fuck” 

Your babbling praise is reduced to a high pitched whine when he starts slamming into you harder than before. The heavy slaps of his hips into yours replacing your moans in the melody. You barely process his words as the tip of his cock slams into your cervix with no remorse, over and over and over again. 

“Did I just hear you say you didn’t think my cock would feel good? Do you want to go back to cumming on your fingers to the thought of me or do you want me to continue stretching your tiny little pussy out?” 

Tsukki never minced his words, but the sheer lewdness of them causes heat to rise in your face. “N-no Kei. Please help, shit, me. Wanna cum on your dick so b- so bad.” His answer is to push one of your legs back towards your shoulder, the new position and the curve of his cock has him hitting that spot inside you always struggled to reach. 

Every muscle in your body is tensed up, burning from the desire to cum. Shockwaves of pleasure radiating from your pussy reach the tips of your toes and through every hair on your head. 

Your walls are clenching around him, wanting him deeper, even though there isn’t really any room left for him. Your body is driven by lust and disregards any pain you should be feeling, rather interpreting it as a different octave of pleasure. 

You find your fingers on your chest, groping and tweaking your nipples, knowing that you get even more sensitive when you are ready to orgasm. “Kei, please cum in me, I wanna cum but I wanna, no I need to do it with you,” it sounds more like a moan or a plea than a request, but Tsukki was already struggling to hold back his own orgasm.

He took your lead, moving his mouth down to your chest and rolling your other nipple against his tongue. Simultaneously, he snakes a hand down to your vagina, to the spot you begged him to touch earlier and rubs meticulous circles on your puffy and neglected clit..

Your back arches off the floor at the first touch of your clit, and your cunt clenched around his dick, making it even harder for Tsukki to thrust in and out. Your orgasm is stronger than its ever been, you’re certain you blacked out for a minute, only coming to when you hear a hearty moan from Tsukki and another wave of warmth in your sex, this time coming from him.

His forehead pressed against your chest as he fucks you through both of your orgasms, hand still curling your clit, attempting to extend the euphoria you both feel for as long as he can. Your hands find their way into his hair and you gently tug and scratch his scalp, making him look up at you. 

Your face may be covered in tears, and spit but he’s never looked at you with more adoration. You continue to pull him up to your face, placing sweet kisses all over his face as you both ride out the last waves of your high, his dick still inside of you. Wincing as he pulls out to lay down on the floor, he ends up pulling you into an embrace.

You look over to his content face, illuminated by the television,  eyes closed with a ghost of a smile dancing over his lips before he murmurs, “I never knew Game of Thrones sex scenes were quite so realistic, but I’m not complaining.” 

“God, Tsukki you’re so annoying,” you say trying to shove him off of you with a laugh, but he just holds you tighter. 

“I like it better when you call me Kei.”

Tags

@ceo-of-daichi @roandtheroses @sugawara-sweetheart @nonexistent-social-life​

[marveloussupernerd]

The Flu - SakuAtsu

Writing this for my wonderful friend’s bday !! Sorry it’s posted so late whooops also this is short af bc I might do a part 2 or something idk

Summary: Omi gets the flu, which is a rare occurrence, and Atsumu goes to take care of him. Pure fluff

Background: Sakusa is attending college in Tokyo and Atsumu is still playing volleyball in his home town so like still a commute for them

Omi never got sick. Man was one of the most careful people in the world — he always wore his mask when he was out and about around large groups of people, carried hand sanitizer with him and sanitizing wipes to clean off any surface he may have to touch (the handles on the train, for instance), and made an effort to keep his home spotless, even wiping down groceries as they made their way through the door.

So when he did get sick, it kicked his ass.

The last thing he needed was to get sick now, with an exam in a little less than a week. He had outlined what he needed to study, but hadn’t actually gotten to studying yet. And it wasn’t a cold... his high fever, chills, and congestion made it very clear to him it was the flu.

What was he going to do though? He had to skip class. At least today was a Friday, so he could spend the weekend recovering. He grabbed his phone and texted Komori, begging him to bring some medicine because he couldn’t imagine pulling himself out of bed.

He hated asking people for help, or showing any sort of weakness. That’s why when Atsumu texted him, he proceeded through their conversations like usual, trying to conceal the fact that he was sick until he finally passed out from exhaustion, leaving Atsumu’s texts hanging.

Omi never left the conversation abruptly. It made Atsumu uncomfortable, but he ignored it. He was probably studying. Still, he sent him a few messages to get back to him as soon as possible.

When a few hours had passed, he asked Komori if he knew what was up, and that’s when the cat was out of the bag: Sakusa Kiyoomi was sick.

It was the weekend, so it wasn’t like Atsumu had any priorities. He packed his bag, strapped on a mask, and took the train to Tokyo.

He always traveled this trip with a mask for Omi. His boyfriend was always so careful that he’d feel like a jerk for giving him a sickness he picked up on the trip because he hadn’t been careful. His boyfriend had, admittedly, rubbed off on him just a little—trains were gross and unsanitary and he couldn’t help but think about it from time to time during the trip.

His first stop in Tokyo was at a pharmacy near Omi’s house. He purchased some canned soup (there was no way he’d be able to make anything from scratch... he was... himself), medicine, a few boxes of tissues, the hand sanitizer Omi liked, and some ice cream for good measure. The next stop was to Omi’s place.

It was a good thing they had gotten locked out that one time and his boyfriend told him about the key he hid in the flower planter. He didn’t have to wake the sick man up at all to enter the house.

“Omi Omi!?” He called, not actually expecting an answer. It was pretty clear that he had been napping, and was likely still asleep. He just hoped his boyfriend wouldn’t hear him moving around and think someone had broken in (although technically, he had).

He went to the kitchen and wiped down his groceries with Clorox wipes to make sure they were sanitary before putting them away. He pulled open one of the drawers to grab a piece of notebook paper to write to his boyfriend.

Hi Omi <3 I’m in the shower. Love you lots.

Tsumu

That would be fine for now. He slid the paper under Omi’s bedroom door and went in the direction of the bathroom. He had to make sure he washed away anything he could have picked up on the train.

He liked using Omi’s body wash — it smelled like lavender. He had never been huge on the scent in the past, but now it made him feel all warm and fuzzy, associating it with his boyfriend’s scent. He made sure to wash every square inch of his body, leaving nothing up to chance, but still tried to get done as quickly as possible. He didn’t want to keep his boyfriend waiting (more like even though he knew his boyfriend was sick, he couldn’t wait to see him... it had been two months already since their last hangout).

He turned off the shower and shook some water out of his hair, going into his bag for a fresh, clean pair of sweatpants and a t-shirt. He pulled on the outfit then made his way to his boyfriend’s bedroom, knocking quietly on the door before entering.

Omi was passed out in bed, his phone next to him, blanket covering half his body. Atsumu strolled over to the bed, taking a seat on the edge of it next to his peaceful-looking boyfriend. He very gently placed his hand on the sick boy’s forehead, then put his other hand on his own forehead to compare. Yep. He was definitely warm. He tucked a stray hair off of Omi’s forehead and gently took his arm away.

He was going through a crisis of whether he should wake his boyfriend and inform him of his presence or not. He looked so relaxed, and it was probably hard to fall asleep to begin with. But also, he was very worried Omi would groggily beat the shit out of him when he woke up because he was afraid he was an intruder.

Yeah, sounded like his mind was made up.

He shook the man’s shoulder carefully. “Omi,” he whispered, trying to wake him gently. Luckily it worked, as the latter’s eyes peeled open slowly. “Hi,” Atsumu whispered.

“Tsumu?” He asked, his voice hoarse.

“Ya coulda told me you were sick,” Atsumu playfully complained, leaning forward to kiss his boyfriend’s forehead. “I was all worried.”

“I’m okay,” he frowned, but he knew that playing it cool wasn’t working. His throat felt all ticklish and he started to cough.

“You haven’t gotten sick since what? Middle school? Ya need someone to take care of you.”

“I don’t wanna make you sick...” Sakusa whispered, his eyes shutting.

“You won’t. Even if you do, though, I’m a big boy and get sick all the time too, so I’m used to it.”

“Fine. I don’t want you making me more sick because you were out,” Sakusa grumbled. It was clear he was actually concerned about his boyfriend’s health, but sometimes speaking this way was the only way to get it through to Atsumu. Tsumu was somehow the most arrogant and selfless jerk he had ever met.

“I wore a mask on the train and everything! Sanitized the groceries, took a shower before I came in here. All for you Omi,” Atsumu explained proudly, his back straightening a little bit as he spoke.

“Mm whatever,” Omi mumbled. He still hadn’t opened his eyes from when he shut them earlier. “Can we go to sleep now?”

“You want me to too?”

Sakusa reached out and grabbed his boyfriend’s hand, pulling it closer to him. “Cm’ere and lay down. This is the only time in your life you get to be big spoon.”

Atsumu carefully clambered over his boyfriend to the other side of the bed, plopping down beside him eagerly. He was trying to not make too many motions that might shake the bed and make his boyfriend nauseous, but he was extremely cuddle deprived and would be lying if he said he wasn’t on cloud nine. He wrapped his arms around his boyfriend, pressing a kiss to the back of his neck. “Sleep tight Omi. I’ll be here when you wake up.”

Omi slept like a rock for a few hours. Atsumu took a nap with him, woke up, went on his phone, checked up on his boyfriend, and those sorts of things. It had probably been about three hours when Sakusa started moving, tossing and turning and trembling.

“Omi? You okay?” He asked, reaching over to feel his boyfriend’s forehead for a temperature. It felt even warmer than before.

Atsumu clambered out of bed, rushing to the kitchen to get an ice pack and a glass of water. When he returned, Omi was now mumbling in his feverish state.

“Atsumu...”

Atsumu rushed to his side, sitting on the edge of the bed. He carefully put the ice pack on his boyfriend’s head, holding it in place despite Omi’s sudden movements.

“I’m here Omi. It’s okay.”

“Don’t...” he whispered.

He pushed the sweat-coated hair off his boyfriend’s forehead so he could get the ice pack on well. “You okay?”

“I’ll be better...”

“Omi? Are you dreaming or talking with your eyes shut? You’re freaking me out.”

“I’m sorry...”

“That’s not helpful for my question honestly.”

“Don’t go...” he sniffled, inhaling heavily, the congestion making it hard to do so.

“Dreaming it is.” Atsumu shook him gently, trying to wake him up. “Get up Omi, it’s just a dream.”

His eyes snapped open, then blinked furiously, a few tears escaping as he did so. “Tsumu?”

“It’s okay. I’m here. It was just a dream,” Atsumu cooed softly, dropping the ice pack and opting cup his face gently and stroke the tears off his cheek.

Sakusa sat up, scooting to his boyfriend to give him a hug, burying his face in the crook of his neck. “Had a dream you left. Said you didn’t love me,” he muttered. “I was still sick and everything.”

“I’d never do that.” Atsumu kissed his cheek. “I’m sorry.”

“You didn’t do anything.”

“I know. But I’m sorry Dream Atsumu did that.”

Omi laughed, a pitiful laugh that sent him into a coughing fit, but a laugh nonetheless.

“Oh! Let me check your temperature. You feel warm,” Atsumu remembered, scrambling out of his boyfriend’s grip to run to the bathroom cupboard and grab a thermometer. He quickly returned to his spot, sweeping his legs to plop down on the bed. He held the thermometer out towards his boyfriend. “Say ‘aw’.”

Sakusa sighed, rolling his eyes, then opened his mouth and let out a small ‘aw’. Atsumu put the thermometer in his mouth and waited patiently, silently, as the temperature was being read.

“102. Why is your thermometer in Fahrenheit?”

Sakusa laughed. “I didn’t realize it was when I bought it.”

A Google search later told the two that it was, indeed, a fever, but he would be okay.

“You sure you’re alright? You wanna take some more medicine and go back to sleep?” Atsumu offered, laying back on the bed.

“Not yet. I don’t think I can sleep anymore.”

Atsumu paused, a small smile forming on his face.

“What is it Miya? You’re scaring me...” Sakusa asked, averting his gaze from the blonde’s.

“You know what’ll help your fever? Ice cream. If you’re up for it, I bought a pint.” Atsumu offered, looking up at his boyfriend with a very small pleading look that said ‘please give me ice cream or I’ll cry’.

“Okay,” Omi smiled. “It’s going to help me get better, so how can I say no?”

[nmnostalgiadrabbles]

Then and Now - Iwaoi

soooo put all three together bc that’s what I should’ve done in the first place lol

 The story of Oikawa and Iwaizumi, over the years.

 -

 They’ve kissed more than their teammates might think.

The first time, they were twelve, on one of their days off from practice in the summer and they’d spent all morning searching for caterpillars. They come in for watermelon and a break from the sun and humidity, that, once they’re upstairs reading Iwaizumi’s comic books splayed out on the floor, turns into a nap. A half hour later, they wake, and Godzilla resumes defending Japan from another kaiju terrorizing the earth on glossy pages beneath sticky fingers. They talk a little as they read, about caterpillars and the upcoming school year, volleyball and what Iwaizumi’s mom is making for dinner.

“What do you think kissing is like?” Oikawa says, stretched out on his back with his hands folded on his stomach. He’s counting the plastic glow-in-the-dark stars on Iwaizumi’s ceiling. “Makki and Hanna got married on the playground the other day and got in trouble for kissing.”

Iwaizumi grunts, uninterested really, but a couple moments pass and he decides he’d like to know too. After all, he and Oikawa compete in just about everything else; he can’t lose here either, even if he is feeling kind of chicken. So he sits up cross legged, and Oikawa follows, and they don’t say a lot, but before they lean in, Oikawa asks, “Should we close our eyes?”

Iwaizumi hasn’t a clue but he says he thinks so.

And it’s exactly what an experimental kiss between twelve-year old best friends should be: scrunched up faces and pursed lips that meet only for a second before they pull away and look at each other again.

Iwaizumi grunts again, shrugging a shoulder, and Oikawa agrees.

“Yeah, don’t really get what all the fuss was about.”

 The second time, they’re fifteen, and its after Oikawa’s knee starts hurting during practice. Aside from sets that aren’t up to Oikawa’s own standard – but still entirely hittable, Iwaizumi thinks – Iwaizumi knows his partner well-enough to see that something isn’t right. He doesn’t mention it during practice, and neither do the coaches; they probably think he’s just having an off day. He’d been kind of tightly wound since Kageyama had taken his place in that match, after all.

They walk home together, where usually Oikawa is skipping about in front of him, going on about his latest girlfriend, but today, he lags behind in strange silence.

Iwaizumi turns to face him and goes for normalcy. “Shittykawa, spit it out.”

Oikawa looks up. Iwaizumi wants to see his face twist into that all-too-familiar shit-eating grin. Instead, he notices Oikawa looks pale. He’s leaning to one side – weight on one foot – and says, in a voice Iwaizumi has never heard before, “It hurts, Iwa-chan,”

They make it home to Iwaizumi’s, because Oikawa’s parents are out of town and he’s staying over, and Iwaizumi helps him up the stairs and onto his bed, leaving him for a moment to retrieve an ice pack from the refrigerator downstairs. He offers ibuprofen too, but Oikawa says he needs to be able to feel it.

“What? Why?”

Oikawa mumbles out an answer that Iwaizumi doesn’t like: that he needs it to hurt to remind him to try harder.

“Don’t be a dumbass. Your play is already suffering; if you continue like this, it’ll get worse and then Kageyama will take your place for good.”

Oikawa flinches and looks away from Iwaizumi, who’s kneeling at his legs and holding the ice pack in place.

“I want you setting for me, not him.” Then he stands and chastely kisses the top of Oikawa’s head, hair unreasonably soft, in one quick motion.  

“Iwa-chan, if you wanted to kiss me you could have just said so,”

Iwaizumi slaps the back of his head and stomps downstairs to start dinner.

 The third time, they’re seventeen, cicadas call loudly, and they’ve come back from a run. They’ve just had lunch, and Iwaizumi tastes like peanut butter and Oikawa like a popsicle.

“‘Blue’ isn’t even a flavor, it’s a color,” he says, and Oikawa sticks his purple tongue out. Iwaizumi makes a face, but Oikawa’s put a hand behind his head and leisurely, like he’d done it as often as he’d served a volleyball, kisses Iwaizumi. It isn’t like when they were twelve.

Oikawa pulls back, triumphant, saying, “See, there is flavor.”

 The fourth time, they’re eighteen, getting ready for bed early because they’ve a match in the morning, brushing their teeth in Oikawa’s bathroom, play-fighting with elbows until Oikawa swallows some toothpaste and hacks over the sink while Iwaizumi, already rinsed clean, cackles behind him till his stomach hurts. Oikawa catches his breath and rinses eventually, and turns to Iwaizumi, who recognizes the danger immediately. He intends to flee from the bathroom, but Oikawa, long-limbed and oddly flexible, manages the get the door shut. Iwaizumi does his best to look intimidating, but Oikawa smiles confidently and ghosts his hands over Iwaizumi’s ribs. Involuntarily, Iwaizumi shudders as Oikawa says, “Please, Iwa-chan. In close quarters like this, you don’t stand a chance. I know your weakness.”

Iwaizumi swallows, mouth parted in a nervous, have mercy smile, but Oikawa will have none of it. The same fingers that deliver the only sets Iwaizumi could ever ask for tickle his sides till he wheezes and tears form. He breaks mostly free and reaches for the doorknob, but Oikawa seizes the opening and then Iwaizumi’s back to laughing and trying desperately to grab hold of Oikawa’s hands while still defending himself. A few misfires, but eventually he gets one and holds it behind Oikawa’s back and the edge of the vanity while he nabs the other wrist and takes them both his is calloused hand. He presses forward with his whole body, still breathing heavy, but finally, finally he can relax.

Oikawa smirks. “I could get free if I wanted to.”

Iwaizumi scoffs. “No you couldn’t.”

Oikawa’s smirk remains, and entirely too confidently for someone with his arms pinned behind him, he leans forward and looks Iwaizumi directly in the eyes as he kisses him. It’s brief, so he can pull back and raise his hands and wiggle his fingers.

“Told ya,” he says, and Iwaizumi expects him to cross his arms over his chest and continue gloating, but he doesn’t. Well, he still gloats, but he puts his hands on Iwaizumi’s sides again, and Iwaizumi sucks in a breath.

“I like them here better. Don’t you?”

Iwaizumi swallows. Looks at Oikawa, all smiles and lidded eyes, and decides this time will be different.

So he pushes forward and they kiss there, in the warm light of the half-bath off the corner of Iwaizumi’s room, with open mouths and think they’ve finally understood what all the fuss is about. Iwaizumi half-wonders if maybe Oikawa understood a while ago, because he moves himself and directs Iwaizumi with a confidence Iwaizumi doesn’t have yet. At some point though, they separate, and Iwaizumi is pleased to find Oikawa’s face – and mouth – as red as his feels.

They hear the front door close and Iwaizumi’s mom call out. Iwaizumi wavers, but Oikawa grabs his face and kisses him hard, and a moment later darts out the door, down the stairs and in into, Iwaizumi suspects, the kitchen, where he’ll be hiding behind Iwaizumi’s own mother. Iwaizumi clambers after him.

 The fifth time, they’re still eighteen, but they’ve just lost to Karasuno. Oikawa knows it isn’t the end for him, but it’s bitter, because it’s the end for him and Iwaizumi.

He’s glad when Iwaizumi turns up at the Shiratorizawa-Karasuno showdown. He’d been afraid to reach out and meet up formally because what if it hurt? He didn’t feel like crying anymore; he’d done enough of that. And it does hurt, them analyzing the match together. Hearing Iwaizumi call him an asshole and laughing because he knows it’s true. Toward the end, Oikawa, unsure, says, “I was imagining it was us out there.”

“Me too.”

They get coffee. Iwaizumi remarks about how little crème Oikawa gets in his.

“I’ve got to start taking care of myself,” Oikawa replies, and Iwaizumi reads between the lines.

“Come back to my place. I’ll make dinner.”

“‘Your place?’ You still live with your parents, Iwa-chan,”

Iwaizumi huffs. “They’re out. We’ll have to stop at the grocery first. Guess I oughtta teach you how to do that too, huh.”

Oikawa smiles, but when Iwaizumi turns and heads out the café door, it slips.

He wants to enjoy these last moments together, so he laughs and teases Iwaizumi like he should, but it’s hard, so after dinner when Iwaizumi puts a movie on, Oikawa excuses himself to the bathroom upstairs, sees the toothpaste on the counter, and cries. He’s in the there entirely too long and knows Iwaizumi is probably getting suspicious, but he’s still surprised when he opens the door to find Iwaizumi flipping through an old comic book on his bed.

Oikawa sniffs.

Iwaizumi pats the space next to him.

Oikawa curls beside him with his head on Iwaizumi’s stomach and tries to breathe without shaking. Iwaizumi puts the comic book down. They’d done this before. Oikawa had cried in front of Iwaizumi more times that he’d cried alone, though he can’t help but think that will be changing. Universities across the world from each other – how could they ever hope to close that distance?

“I know you’re thinking.”

“Iwa-chan had a thought?” Oikawa hides his face in Iwaizumi’s sweatshirt.

“I’m trying to be genuine here, asshole.”

Oikawa has a decision to make – allow Iwaizumi to start this conversation, the one he wants to pretend won’t happen if he avoids it, or try to enjoy one of their last nights together. He isn’t sure he can do either.

He feels a hand in his hair, soft and warm, and though he knows Iwaizumi is offering comfort, Oikawa needs to take more. So he sits up, sets his glasses on Iwaizumi’s bed-side table, and moves to straddle his best friend’s waist.

Iwaizumi is taken aback. He’s perceptive, but Oikawa can be a mystery if he really wants to be, and now, Iwaizumi notes, is one of those times. He waits. Watches Oikawa’s chest rise and fall.

Oikawa puts his hands on Iwaizumi’s chest. He can do this. He wants to do this. He has to do this. There likely won’t be another chance. With worry and separation in the back of his mind, he leans down and kisses Iwaizumi. Iwaizumi kisses him back, moves his hands to either side of Oikawa’s waist, above the hips but below the ribs, which is an incredible relief; Oikawa had half-expected Iwaizumi to say no, we shouldn’t, not like this, or worse, just no, because he didn’t want Oikawa the way Oikawa wanted him. That just because they’d kissed a couple times didn’t mean he’d mourn him from how-ever many thousand miles away. How could Oikawa blame him? They weren’t even twenty, and Iwaizumi was going to move on from volleyball. He was going to study sports medicine in college, but that wasn’t a team sport; Oikawa couldn’t be a part of that world, and maybe that was for the better. Maybe that was what Iwaizumi wanted.

Oikawa feels sick at the thought, and decides that at least for this moment and the few that would follow, he would be something Iwaizumi wanted.

Oikawa kisses him in what he thinks is the sexiest way possible. Tongue, but not too much, just enough to tease, because that about sums up his entire personality, doesn’t it? If Iwaizumi could read his thoughts he would have said no, you’re entirely too much, all the time.

Oikawa holds back tears.

He presses his hips down and wills himself to feel something that doesn’t hurt. He trails wet kisses from Iwaizumi’s mouth to his jaw to his neck – the kind that leaves bruises – and Iwaizumi, who is breathing faster than normal, whose hands roam from Oikawa’s sides to his shoulder blades to his hair, makes a noise Oikawa hasn’t heard before. Oikawa’s chest tightens.

It stops when Oikawa pauses opens his eyes because he stupidly, stupidly wanted to see what Iwaizumi, what Haijime looked like beneath him. It’s everything he’s hoped for – flushed down to his neck, red, shiny lips parted perfectly for his own, eyes shut almost tightly, almost like it was too much and Oikawa would cement this moment, this Haijime in the back of his mind for the rest of his life – but Iwaizumi opens his eyes, why Oikawa didn’t know, and for a reason Oikawa is frustrated he can’t overcome, Iwaizumi blinks and it’s too late, it’s over Oikawa recognizes; Iwaizumi has been snapped from the moment Oikawa had tried so desperately to create, and all the ones he’d hoped would come after.

“Oikawa,”

How could he live without hearing Iwaizumi say his name like that ever again? Say his name at all?

“Oikawa, what’s wrong?”

So it had been his fault after all. He’s given himself away, but isn’t sure how until Iwaizumi brings a hand to his cheek and Oikawa feels him thumb wetness away.

Iwaizumi sits up as best he can, pillows at his back, and looks at Oikawa with the furrowed brow Oikawa had loved from the moment Iwaizumi’s face had first scrunched up when they were five and Iwaizumi had stepped in water with his sock feet.

Oikawa hunches down with his fists in the fabric of Iwaizumi’s sweatshirts and doesn’t care that he sounds like a child.

“It hurts, Iwa-chan,”

Iwaizumi puts his arms around Oikawa’s shaking shoulders.

“I know,” he says. Oikawa raises abruptly; had he heard that right? The tremor in Iwaizumi’s voice?

He finds Iwaizumi is crying too.

“I said I knew what you were thinking, didn’t I?”

Oikawa can’t help it – he laughs. They both spend a moment wiping their faces and sniffing, and then Oikawa says what he’s always felt.

“I love you,”

He’s never imagined how Iwaizumi would react to hearing those words from him because he’s never imagined himself really and actually saying them.

But maybe Iwaizumi has, because he says without hesitation, “I love you too.”

And even though not all of the pain is gone, enough is that Oikawa can grin again, honestly, and says, “Iwa-chan that’s so embarrassing!”

Maybe Iwaizumi hadn’t thought that far ahead, because he balks for a moment, but only a moment since this is Shittykawa after all, and launches himself into Oikawa’s torso so convincingly they tumble off his bed and this time, Iwaizumi makes sure he comes out on top so he can mercilessly dole out payback for that time in the bathroom. Oikawa writhes and shrieks beneath him with smiles Iwaizumi catalogues for when they can’t torcher each other like this every night. Because Iwaizumi is so pleased with himself, he takes Oikawa’s wrists in one hand and pins them above his head, further pleased at the blush that spreads across Oikawa’s cheeks and ears. He basks in his victory and tries his hand at the patented Oikawa smirk.

“You can’t kiss me now,” he says.

Oikawa goes still beneath him, surprise evident.

“Guess you’ll just have to let me do that part.”

Oikawa’s eyes narrow, but he grins and licks his lips.

 .

They don’t actually talk about who won or lost. There’s a jab and a comeback and then they just laugh. They separate to celebrate with their own teams, out for dinner, but Iwaizumi tells Oikawa to come by his room later.

Oikawa makes likes he’s offended, going as far as to summon a faux blush and says, “Aren’t you supposed to take me out first?”

Iwaizumi rolls his eyes and says, “I want to check out your knee. I know you’ve got your own trainer, but a second opinion never hurt anyone.”

Oikawa leans close, and Iwaizumi breathes once, twice, his sweat and deodorant and the way he’s smelled since they were kids. Feels the hand hot on his shoulder.

“But what if I want it to?”

But then he pulls back and he’s just one big shit-eating grin.

Iwaizumi laughs. “I don’t know why I thought you’d mature,”

Oikawa’s teammates call him over, apparently there’s an interviewer waiting for him, which doesn’t surprise Iwaizumi at all, so Oikawa just says for Iwaizumi to text him his room number.

It’s late when he comes by, and Iwaizumi hounds him about getting enough sleep. Oikawa falls with a huff on the twin bed by the window.

“Who’s the one keeping me up?”

Iwaizumi comes to stand at the foot. “This doesn’t count; it’s for good reason.”

“You think you’re worth losing sleep?”

Iwaizumi forgot how often he rolled his eyes when in Oikawa’s presence. “Sit up, put your feet on the floor, legs a ninety-degree angle.”

Oikawa complies, and in his best nauseatingly-sweet voice asks a third question. “Do you talk to all your players like that?”

Iwaizumi kneels in front of him and then realizes.

“Tell me you’re wearing something under those?”

Oikawa nearly short-circuits thinking up the perfect response but he just ends up laughing and stepping out of his sweats.

“Thank God.” Iwaizumi resumes his place kneeling on the patterned carpet and put his hands on Oikawa’s thigh.

“It’s the other one,” Oikawa says.

“I know. But you can’t be trusted not to fuck yourself up for volleyball.”

Oikawa snorts. A few moments later, Iwaizumi moves to the other, pressing into the tissues carefully. A little longer, and then he uses his thumbs to dig.

“Tell me if anything hurts.” He scoffs and corrects himself. “Tell me what hurts.”

“Is it so hard to believe I’ve learned to take care of myself?”

Iwaizumi moves one hand to the other knee and feels them simultaneously for comparison. “It really is.”

Oikawa doesn’t say anything, just watches Iwaizumi continue his examination. He thinks about reaching a hand up to feel Iwaizumi’s hair.

“Okay, lie back.”

“Oh good, the fun part.” Oikawa winks and Iwaizumi flicks him.

“The first thing you do when we see each other after all this time is feel me up and physically abuse me, Iwaizumi? Can’t say I’m surprised.”

Iwaizumi holds Oikawa’s ankle in one hand and behind his knee above the calf in the other. He puts a knee on the bed and presses forward. Only when Oikawa’s thigh is entirely flush to his chest does he wince. Iwaizumi watches him for a moment, as Oikawa pointedly looks up at the ceiling.

“Fucker,” Iwaizumi says. “You’re supposed to say when it hurts.”

“I didn’t want you to stop,”

They’re quiet for a moment, looking at each other, till Iwaizumi releases Oikawa’s leg and settles between his thighs. He moves forward, slowly, because it’s been too, too long since he’d torchered Oikawa proper. One hand on Oikawa’s right side, the other on his left, and he bends down like he’s going to kiss him. But he stops and breathes, leans back just enough when Oikawa lifts his head to meet, and chuckles at his irritation. Oikawa squints, takes the fabric of his shirt in his fists and finally – because honestly it had been torcher for Iwaizumi, too – they’re kissing.

They’re steady for a beat, until Iwaizumi feels a hand tug his hair and then they’re touching all over and scrambling for purchase to bring themselves closer, as close as physically possible after being continents apart, and mold into one another.

Then Iwaizumi pulls away for just a moment because he really wants to see what Oikawa looks like kissed stupid after so, so long.

“God,” he breathes.

“You haven’t called me that in some time,” Oikawa manages, and Iwaizumi laughs. The texts, the phone calls – they’d been enough because they were all the two of them had had for months on end, for years, but now, to see Oikawa blush for him, feel his mouth open for him? Iwaizumi doesn’t cry, but Oikawa reaches up to kiss his cheek like he had. Then he licks the same spot with what felt like basset-hound level slobber and falls back in hysterics while he watches Iwaizumi furiously rub his face in the shoulder of his t-shirt.

Oikawa’s stomach flips when Iwaizumi looks at him again, and he lets Iwaizumi gather his wrists in one hand and hold them above his head. The other splays out on Oikawa’s stomach and it flips a second time.

“That’s more like it, Iwa-chan.”

 .

 It’s not entirely a grunt and it’s not entirely a groan, the noise that Oikawa makes as Iwaizumi digs his thumbs into his traps. It’s just a noise, Iwaizumi decides, that he likes – proper term irrelevant.

“You’re really tight,” he says.

From his spot on the floor in front of the edge of Iwaizumi’s bed where Oikawa sits so Iwaizumi can work more easily, Oikawa only turns his head enough to give him a side-eye and half-assed grin. Iwaizumi enjoys that he’s capable of doing something Oikawa likes enough to actually shut up.

“I hope you’re doing this yourself, too.”

“How’s that?”

“Put a tennis ball between the muscle you want to work and a wall and press back till you feel pressure that’s uncomfortable but not painful. I do it for myself all the time.”

“It is really a massage if you do it to yourself?”

“This isn’t a massage, asshole. It’s myofascial release. I just haven’t gotten to the part that hurts yet.”

“Are you sure you went to school for this? Massages are supposed to feel good, Iwa-chan.”

“You’ll feel good tomorrow.”

“Have you ever known me to be patient?”

Iwaizumi sighs. Thinks for a moment. “Alright, lie on your stomach.”

Oikawa, still half-sleep, rises with a groan (this time, definitely a groan) and crawls like a child up past their bedtime to the center of Iwaizumi’s bed. Iwaizumi grabs something from his work bag and moves to sit atop his waist. Oikawa hums with his eyes closed.

“This’ll be cold, but it’ll take the edge off.”

He sprays a menthol solution across Oikawa’s neck and shoulders and down his back. Oikawa flinches, but after Iwaizumi’s warm fingers return, he finds the familiar cooling sensation more than pleasant. It doesn’t quite numb the area, but it helps him relax the muscles he tenses unconsciously throughout the day.

“Do you foam roll?”

“Yeah, mostly my legs.” Oikawa mumbles into the comforter.

Iwaizumi works up high for several minutes before placing hands on either side of Oikawa’s spine a few inches above the waistline. They’re exploratory at first, lacking real pressure, but there’s one area that’s particularly sensitive and Oikawa jumps involuntarily.

“One hell of a knot there.”

He works it for a while.

“Sure you don’t wanna betray shorty and Ushiwaka and join our side?” Oikawa says between breathes Iwaizumi reminds him to keep taking.

“What, your trainer’s no good?”

“He’s plenty good, but nobody’s got your hands, Iwa.”

Iwaizumi snorts. “Even if it’s not bothering you at the time, try and hit your back when you roll, too. You’ll end up pulling something when you serve eventually, otherwise. Do the tennis ball for your shoulders when you can’t get with your trainer.”

Oikawa doesn’t respond yet. It certainly is one hell of a knot, and he shuts his eyes and presses his lips together while Iwaizumi applies pressure that’s almost too much. Then Iwaizumi pulls back and Oikawa practically shudders.

“Sorry,” Iwaizumi says, sitting back. “It’s four-thirty. You should probably shower and head back to your room.”

Oikawa turns over on his back and rubs his hands up and down Iwaizumi’s forearms. “Yes, what would they say about you aiding the enemy? ‘Did you see? Oikawa returned from somewhere before the sun came up today – who could he have been visiting?’”

The corners of Iwaizumi’s lips curl. “As if they’d have to wonder.”

Oikawa props himself up on one elbow and reaches to place a hand behind Iwaizumi’s neck. He pulls him down and kisses him. Is kissed back.

“I’ll think about you tomorrow. When my neck –” another kiss. “– and my shoulders –” another. “– and my back –” just one more. “ – feel good.”

 .

[for-bucks-sake]

An Apron is Just a Cape On Backwards (Not a Superhero).

Pairing: Stucky x Reader Word count: 6K. This is a whole beast. I hope that’s not too bad.  Warnings: all the fluff!, some angst, smut!! (threesome, DP, fingering, attempt thigh riding.) ,some bad language, LOVE. And for the mad people who haven’t seen it yet: Endgame spoilers.  Summary: Everything was lost, but then it wasn’t. Reader, Steve and Bucky have to make up for lost time. Soon they find it not as easy as they thought, especially because one of them didn’t actually lose anything.  A/N: Some guy was annoying the shit out of me, trashing Steve and Bucky’s friendship, so I cheered myself up by writing a second part that literally no one asked for (also I might’ve written this only bc I’m obsessed with naming my fics weird shit). So this is part 2 of Missing Is a Recurring Theme! Hope you like it! (Also, I am a whore for artist!Steve.) **If anyone is interested, I actually have some spare time, so...Requests are open!

Gif is not mine.

“Hot Stuff Coming Through?” Y/n squinted to read the printed words on Bucky’s ridiculous apron, realization hitting her and she threw her head back, ringing laugh pleasantly filling the room, “when did you get this?”

Bucky was the only one standing in the kitchen. No sign of Steve. His growing hair was tied up on the top of his head in a failed bun, miserable strands of hair escaping it only to be coated with sweat and unidentified powders. Somehow, he managed to already severely stain the black apron and the breathable black t-shirt he wore underneath, spatula in one hand and a knife in the other.

“We got it yesterday,” he said innocent enough, flexing his impressive biceps in different poses, showing off his great new purchase. Y/n breathed, shaking her head, “Wait until you see Steve’s, and yours, of course! Which reminds me, get out of the kitchen!.” “You called me here!” She protested, hitting Bucky with the book she held; Oh, how she wished it wasn’t a paperback. “We’re working on a surprise for you, Darling. You have to keep your eyes closed, or at least stand with your back to us.” “Sure thing, Hot Stuff.” She chuckled, turning around just in time to face Steve going through the kitchen door, wearing a nearly identical apron, clear bag in his hand.

“I got the colors but I’m not sure we have enough blu-“ startled, he stopped talking when he saw her, just in time to hear Bucky’s loud demands he shuts the fuck up. “Colors? What are you two planning? It’s not even my birthday.” Steve gifted her with one of his loop side smiles, “I only said it to throw you off, sweetheart.”

He went around her and passed the plastic bag to the metal arm reaching for him in a sleek motion, pausing for a second above her head indecisively before  kissing the top of it. Bucky’s heart nearly skipped a beat.

Y/n touched Steve’s shoulder as a response, brushing the bare spot the white fabric of his shirt didn’t cover, it was somehow quieter than before.

Bucky cleared his throat, “hypothetically speaking, if we wanted to bake a cake.” Y/n opened her mouth, but was cut when he continued, “hypothetically! Do we really need to add eggs? Back in the day only flour and water were enough.”

“OH MY GOD.” She groaned at Steve’s amused face,

“So…Is that a yes?” Bucky asked again, looking genuinely lost,

“I’m out of here!” Y/n almost sang, stressing the the last words. She left the room, unlocking her phone while imagining the horrors said room is going to go through.

She stepped back, pulling herself closer to the kitchen space, but never entering - only her head visible - “I sent you a link, there are thousands of recipes for cakes. Just choose one.”

They looked grateful, hands petting their pockets, already looking for their phones, “thank you, doll”

She nodded, almost leaving again; “you sure you don’t need help?” She asked on a second thought, blinking and bringing her arms to her sides,

“We’ll be okay,” Bucky said, “besides, this is supposed to be a surprise, c’mon, let us do something nice for you for once.”

She bit her bottom lip and sighed, “Ok, whatever you want.” She stepped out of the kitchen again, “Just, please don’t paint the kitchen with food coloring, it’s going to be a hell to clean up.”

“I told you, there would be no colors involved!” Steve yelled after her, followed by a not so subtle snort from Bucky.

“I thought superheroes weren’t supposed to lie!” Y/n fired back, making herself comfortable on the sofa, opening the book at the marked page. She heard Bucky laughing again, this time joined by his partner in crime,

“Well, good thing we’re not ones anymore!”

Domestic really suited them, she then thought, and happiness might make her explode.

-

“Stevie, this is…I’m at a loss of  words. It’s amazing.” Bucky always did love to praise him, all the way back to the 20th century. He could feel him, soft man inside soft clothes, behind him. Breath warm and light on his neck, making the small hairs erect from the proximity.

“It’s not even finished yet, you really think she’s gonna like it?” Steve eyed his work, melting into Bucky’s touch as he wrapped solid arms around his waist, kissing his shoulder and humming into his skin.

“I know she will.”

Steve shifted his body, turning around to meet a beautiful pair of eyes, today more grey than blue; like ocean skies early in an April morning. It’s a little game he likes to play with himself - what did Bucky’s eye color resemble today? In all the years he played, he didn’t get the same answer twice.

“What?” The skies in his eyes chuckled along when Steve stared too long, the skin around Bucky’s eyes wrinkled, a pleasant reminder of how his life had changed, laughter so acquainted with his face it decided to leave a permanent mark.

“Nothin’.” Steve smiled at the thought, feeling the hands around his middle tightened, “I just love you.”

Bucky licked his lips, gaze falling quickly to a pink, delicious mouth he could never resist. Their breaths were heavy, warm, mixing in the small space between them until Steve reached for his hair, resting his elbows on Bucky’s broad shoulders as he found his bun, fingers digging into it, messing it up impossible more, strands of hair falling to frame his face.

“Steve,” Bucky swallowed, nose brushing against nose, so close to him, he spoke into Steve’s own lips.

“Yeah?” He breathed, teeth nibbling at Bucky’s bottom lip, beard grazing his smooth jaw,

“Kiss me.”

Their mouths connected, Steve’s hands still in Bucky’s hair, knotting and pulling harder, forcing him closer; Bucky gasped, head tilted right as he found a better access, his tongue moving slowly over Steve’s lips, sucking on the corner of his mouth. Steve panted Bucky’s name, releasing one of his hands from his hair and bringing it to cup his jaw; right hand pulling his chin up, allowing Steve to trace his tongue on the warmth of Bucky’s, pressing his teeth lightly into his lower lip. 

They smelled like baking, with the faintest hint of sweat. Bucky’s pulp lips sugary to the taste, probably from all the bites he snuck into his mouth, ignoring Steve’s protests.

Metal hand soothed up and down his back, chilly material still unusual to the skin even through a t-shirt. Steve leaned his back against the counter, parting the kiss with a wet sound. Bucky smiled lazily, eyes hooded  as he nuzzled his face into Steve’s neck, fluttering kisses into his most sensitive spots,

“God.” He signed, brushing lips against the sharp edge of Steve’s jawline, “I miss your beard.”

-

Screams from the kitchen was all she heard before she threw her book to the side, cursing everything in the world she had to abandon the last ten pages unread.

Muffled swearing, a terrified “Steve.”, a burnt small and when she entered the kitchen, grey smoke.

“What happened?” Y/n asked, catching her breath but still very much alarmed.

“Nothing!” One of them said in an unnaturally high squeak she couldn’t recognize. Steve cleared his throat, “nothing.” He said again, more composed, fanning furiously the smoking oven along with Bucky.

Once the loud beeping sound stopped - smell still strong and unpleasant in their noses, but the black screen died down - they faced her, the epitome of innocence with their boyish smiles, posture hunched as they fiddled with their hands, looking astonishingly alike.

“We’re sorry.” Steve said, eyebrows furrowed as he struggled to look up, “it’s m’fault. I was so busy paint- working on something else I got distracted-“

“No no, we both know it’s on me, I should’ve-“

“I’m gonna stop you right there.” Y/n said, arms crossed against her chest as she cut them both sharply, they could be so serious sometimes. “All you did was burn half the kitchen! Lighten up guys.” She continued before they had a chance to speak, “there are no faults, I’m not mad.” She smiled, as to convince them she was telling the truth.

Both men exhaled at the same time, relieved the mess they made wasn’t gonna get them in trouble. “I can’t be mad at you, c’mon.” Y/n said wholeheartedly, bringing her arms to the side and walking forward, nudging their shoulders as to cheer them up, “I’m just upset you worked all day for nothing.” She sighed, searching for their hands, she took Bucky’s metallic palm in her right, and Steve’s in her left.

“It’s not entirely for nothing.” Bucky motioned, cupping her face, calloused flesh holding delicate features. He smiled at her, then at Steve, standing inside their impromptu circle made of limbs- “Now,” a dopey grin smudge his red lips, looking proud of himself, “we can get pizza!”

-

“You seemed a little too keen on throwing out all the food you’ve worked on, don’t you think? And look at the road!”

Bucky chuckled, stirring his gaze from her to the black sedan in front of them, “I’d much rather look at you, sugar.” He teased in a sickeningly sweet voice, y/n rolled her eyes, pretending to puke. “No one is moving anyway.” He hit the wheel in frustration, she swore she heard it creaks, “and for your question, darl’,” Bucky looked at her again, “I am extremely,” he stressed, “bummed out it didn’t work. And I mean EXTREMELY. Besides, it wasn’t the main surprise, Steve’s still working on it at home.”

“Yeah, yeah,” she huffed, gently touching his jaw and guiding it to face forward; he opened his mouth, tilting his head down to try and bite her finger, he grazed it with his front teeth and kissed it. Her smile turned to a loud laugh as a very enthusiastic driver honked his horn off behind them, universal way of signaling someone to fucking drive. Bucky didn’t have to look to see the “I told you so” all over her face.

“Shut up.” He muttered under his breath,

She pursed her smiling lips, looking innocent as ever, “I didn’t say anything.”

-

They drove in silence, Bucky hummed to the beat of her fingers drumming on the window.

“Is something wrong?” He said suddenly, making y/n jolt herself up.

“Is there something that should be wrong?” She asked, confused by the unforeseen question,

He sighed heavily, “with you and Steve…I mean.”

Oh shit. “I don’t think so, no.” She swallowed, picking at her fingernails.

“I thought superheroes weren’t supposed to lie.” Damn them, both of them and their way of knowing exactly what she feels.

“I’m not a superhero.”

“You are to me.” He said quietly, both looking intensely at the road.

“I’m not lying,” she exhaled, bringing her abused nails to her lips, biting, “it’s just… Everything is good, you know? Great. I love you, I love you both more than ever.” She shifted in her sit again, visibly uncomfortable.

“We never talked about this.” Her voice was quiet now, barely above a whisper, “I mean really talked about this. When you were gone…it was hard to keep going like everything was normal, so we somehow adjusted to a new normal, our normal. And then you came back, which I’m grateful for, everyday.” She bit her bottom lip, bringing her legs closer to her lap.

“I wake up and I see you, I see him, and I want to cry. Cry because I never thought I would be this lucky again. But when you came back we had to discover the old normal again, remember it, face the damage our previous poor way of coping did to us. Five years is a long time, Buck.”

She was holding her breath, Bucky could tell, the way she was holding her thoughts up until now.

He often forgot. He hated the feeling of memories disintegrating from his grip, in small, unnoticeable bits that he worked so hard scraping together. Most of the things come back to him eventually, the good and the bad. But this was a different type of forgetting; this time he had nothing to remember.

Sometimes it just hit him, when he watched them. How everything so drastically changed when he was gone. He saw it in the dark circles around her eyes, never seemed to fade or to brightened, no matter how much time had gone or how well rested she was. Sometimes it was in the new crease on Steve’s forehead, a grounding reminder that they, too, can run out of time. Sometimes he saw it in their faints attempts to wake up early for morning runs, can’t keep up even when they do. Sometimes it was in the hesitation in Steve’s eyes, every time he came in contact with her skin, almost afraid she doesn’t want his touch anymore.

For Bucky there was nothing to remember, but for them- there was too much to forget.

And he hated it, blaming himself in true Bucky Barnes fashion. Like he had any say on the matter. Sometime, he thinks that if he had, he’d tell them to move on.

Bucky’s life were hard on him, cruel, even - but they also taught him that time was invaluable. Precious seconds and moments had to be clenched on to, not be wasted, not be overlooked; that’s how he knew they should’ve let go. Instead of latching onto the memory of him, distant fading version of  the man he is in their minds, they could’ve started over, make their new normal a permanent one. They could’ve learned to love each other without him. They could’ve healed.

In a greedy, ugly pit inside the dark depths of his heart he was glad they didn’t, selfishness getting the best of him, thinking he might have killed himself if he woke up only to realize he doesn’t have anyone to wake up to.

Five years is a long time.

He gripped the wheel harder with two hands, nearly creating small valleys in the shape of his fingers, “He loves you.” He hushed, in a way that was almost intimate, like a secret.

“I know.”

“Sometimes I think he is going to break. He lost me so many times. Too many times in one lifetime. If he didn’t have you…He would’ve.”

“I would’ve, too.” Y/n whispered,

“I know.” He said softly, body loosen up as he spoke, “you kept each other together, you saved each other from falling apart. That’s love.”

She stayed quiet as Bucky found a parking spot, squeezing the car in a tight fit.

Her mind was roaming, she had a lot to think about.

“Let’s go?”

-

“God I missed this place.” Bucky beamed at the smell, his entire demeanor changes as they walked into the small pizzeria. Fresh dough was baking, a game was on on the beat up TV screen near the freezers, fluorescent lights planting small stars inside his eyes. Suddenly, y/n felt different, too.

They found their way between the tables, an old woman with a child were sitting to their right, a young couple to their left, some elderly men yelled at the television, heating up in a meaningless argument over the players.

They reached the cashier, first in line. His eyes looked tired, yet he treated them with a smile accompanied with a cheerful “what can I get ya?”,not letting the long shift get to him. “We’d like two large pizzas please, one with extra cheese…” Bucky’s voice faded as she dived deeper into her thoughts. His left hand was light on the small of her back, chilling the narrow strip of skin revealed when her t-shirt rode up.

Y/n looked around, tuning down the talking and the noise even more, only to catch a glimpse of a familiar face, now very less bearded, somehow younger looking. A small towel in a soft yellow hung from his shoulder, and the friendly smile that was always there didn’t disappoint, directed to her yet again. He nodded as their gazes crossed, an undisputed spark of recognition floating inside his eyes as he glanced quickly at Bucky.

The old man didn’t stay much longer, responding to the loud “dad!” calls from the back by returning quickly, not before he caught y/n nodding back, latching Bucky closer.

-

They drove in silence. Y/n trying to balance the square boxes on her lap as Bucky allowed himself to steal a slice, taking a bite every time they stopped at a red light.

“This is,” he announced with his mouth full, defying the quiet, “the best pizza ever!”

She chuckled, tightening her grip around the sides of the steaming carton, “save the declarations for Steve, I don’t really care for it either way.”

“You have to decide which side are you on!” Bucky said, finishing and swallowing his bite, looking at her, “playing both sides isn’t going to work any longer baby.”

“ROAD!” She grunted, momentarily losing her balance and falling forward, almost covering her entire sit with cheese and sauce.

“Y/n? You okay?” Bucky’s voice was concerned, and he was looking at her, again.

“I’m fine! Stop looking at me!” She moved, adjusting to a more comfortable position,

“C’mon now, you know I can drive us safely with my eyes closed.”

“I’m sure you can, you’ve had a lot of practice, too?” She scuffed,

“As a matter of fact,” he tensed, smiling sadly, “I have.”

They didn’t talk for the rest of the drive, and Bucky didn’t stir his eyes from the highway.

-

“Time for the surprise!.” Bucky announced after they sat down, eating wordlessly except from his occasional blissful moans, and Steve’s grumpy noises of disgust.

Y/n looked down at him, baffled. Her hands paused their continuant motion in the past twenty minutes. He sat between her legs, hard feelings long forgotten - placated by tender twining of fingers through his hair; chipped nails gently scratching his scalp and slowly descending to the top of his shoulders.

Steve looked up as well, tossing his pepperoni slice back to the box, willingly abandoned. “Sure. I’ll go get it.”

Y/n glanced at Steve, immediately bringing her gaze down to Bucky again, “C’mon, you really shouldn’t have.”

They both dismissed her, getting up and disappearing in the kitchen.

Y/n followed them with her gaze, despite her protests she was giddy with excitement, what it was didn’t matter - the thought of how hard they worked on it all day was enough to make her happy with whatever they made.

Blond head emerged from the room first, quicker than she thought, followed by Bucky- their hands bearing gifts;

Steve held three aprons, and what looked like a tray with a knife on it, laying next to something that was covered, she couldn’t see what it was.

Gently pushing the nearly empty pizza boxes, Steve placed the tray on the table, tossing each the matching clothes.

“Are we really gonna wear them?” Hers was different, printed colors all over it, and even in its folded state she had a vague idea what was on it.

“Open it!” Bucky clapped after he finished tying his behind his back. He was a little too enthusiastic. She caught a glimpse of Steve smiling conspicuously, can’t keep a straight face as she unfolded the apron, revealing a picture of a very detailed, hairy belly. Rolls that seemed like they were acquired by abusing the use of beer, and a pair of man boobs that horrifiedly were too similar to her own for her liking.

Both men howled with laughter, can’t contain themselves any longer when she put it on.

“Do you like it?” Bucky snickered, wiping tears from the corner of his eyes.

“You know what?” She raised an eyebrow, checking herself out, “It’s kinda growing on me.” How unbelievable it was that technically, those men were over a hundred years old.

“Good.” Steve tried to keep a straight face, failing miserably, “because you’re never, you’re never taking this off.”

“Oh, never? Not even for…?” Y/n bit her lips suggestively, looking at them as they looked at each other. She was just teasing, getting them riled up as a payback. She was trying to be funny, but their expressions weren’t as playful.

She stayed in her place, untying the ridiculous apron, unbuttoning her jeans and letting it fall down to her hips.

That was quick, she thought as they walked towards her in unison, trapping her between them and the couch.

Bucky pushed down the denim, letting her step out of it while he sat, parting his legs and pulling her down for a kiss.

Steve tangled his long fingers in her hair, smoothly pressing her against Bucky’s lips, deepening the kiss as she moaned into his mouth; Bucky groaned, hoisting her up on his lap, desperately seeking more friction. His metal arm clutched her waist with a force she knew was going to leave bruises, his other hand was holding her head in place, replacing Steve as he began to kiss her neck, sucking at the skin until it was red and angry. He smirked when she cried out, breaking the kiss only for Bucky to pull her back in. Steve licked at the ruptured blood vessels, soothing them with his tongue before he moved to a new patch of skin.

Y/n gripped Bucky’s shoulder, dire for even the slightest relief, grinding against his clothed crotch, using him to keep her balance. She was suddenly stopped when his arm held her hips steady, not allowing her to move.

“Uh, uh sweetheart,” She heard Steve rasping in her ear, biting at her earlobe, making her squirm under him, “you’re not getting off that easy.”

It was like they found their rhythm again, like buying a new record of old songs; they held her between them, undressing themselves and what’s left of her clothes, not even bothering to leave the couch.

Being so close to them was like a cure; nothing could touch her, nothing but them. She felt the weight of Steve’s lips on hers, tracing his soft tongue on her teeth, breathing lightly into her, opening her mouth for him. She didn’t need anything else.

Bucky found her right breast, bare and soft, with only the contrast of her hardening nipple reacting to his slow circles around it, only stopping to pinch her pink nub, rolling it between his fingers. He chuckled softly when her breath hitched, clinging to Steve’s naked chest and pushing her ass closer to Bucky’s cock.

She shifted on his lap, somehow; now facing Steve, mouth on his, and her back to Bucky, allowing him a better access to her sex.

Slowly, he lowered his hand, the cold of the metal meeting her heat, creating a contrasting sensation that made her whole body shiver with pleasure.

“Look at you,” he whispered in her ear, syncing the movements of both of his hands on her, “you’re so wet.”

Y/n hummed in response, hand shaping into a fist around Steve’s bicep when he caught her other breast, giving the same attention to it as Bucky.

“You’re so good for us doll.” He kissed the edge of her jaw, “Such a good girl, so wet for us.”

She groaned as Bucky slid a smooth finger inside her, slowly pumping it in and out, stretching her enough to insert a second finger between her folds.

“Faster, please.” She cried, mouth now free as Steve resumed working on marking her skin, sucking at her collarbone, allowing her to be as vocal as she wants.

“Steve, Bucky,” she bit her bottom lip, unable to divide her attention; Bucky moving faster inside her, thumb teasing her clit, and Steve squeezing her tits, bringing one of them to his mouth and scraping her sensitive nipple. It was all becoming too much.

Her hips buckled, breaths becoming more urgent as she moaned their names,

“Do you want to cum, darling?” Bucky asked from behind, not any less urgent than her, his cock becoming uncomfortably harder against his stomach and her ass by the second.

Y/n nodded furiously, swallowing a sob when a third digit entered her, “oh shit, I’m so close.”

Steve caressed her cheek, tracing the shape of her red lips with his thumb. She kissed it, taking it in her mouth fully, tongue spiraling its form and coating it with her saliva, hollowing her cheeks around it.

The heat rose to her face, knots tying up inside her stomach and going higher and higher, taking her closer to the edge.

“It’s okay, sweetheart. Come for us.”

She didn’t know who said it, too caught up in her own pleasure, but it was enough; The waves of her orgasm hit her all at once, she moaned loudly around Steve’s thumb, as Bucky didn’t stop, riding her high with her, fingers still being pushed in and out of her, milking her of her pleasure with sweet reassurance in her ears.

Bucky kissed her shoulder as she came down, still sensitive when he pulled his fingers from her heat. He growled when he saw how drenched they were, the metal collecting a good amount of her juices, “Fuck, baby.” Bucky smirked, both men fascinated by her reaction to them as if it was the first time, “I always miss your taste so much.”

He brought two wet fingers to his lips, relishing on her cum, moaning in pleasure for how sweet she is. Steve shuffled closer, bringing himself so close he was sharing Bucky’s lap with her.

He bit his lips, hungrily eyeing Bucky’s forefinger, untouched, still dripping with her. 

Steve secured his hand around the metal wrist in a firm grip, waiting for Bucky to lick his fingers clean, and taking the third one into his mouth, sucking at it until there was nothing left.

Bucky swallowed, cock twitching at the sensation of Steve’s tongue on his body. The subtle reaction captured Steve’s attention, and he moved even more forward, squeezing y/n between them, her eyes hooded in a post orgasm bliss, renewed arousal starting to form in her core again when she felt the weight of Steve against her sensitive pussy.

“C’mere.” Steve motioned, voice deep from lust. Bucky swallowed again when he felt a tug at his hair, pulling him forward. Steve crushed his lips on his, the delicious flavor of y/n still on their tongue as they tasted it off each other, breathlessly exploring. Steve took a hold of Bucky’s thick shaft, stroking him from the base to the tip, removing the precum with his thumb and smearing it on y/n lips blindly, not breaking the kiss. She whimpered, eagerly licking it off.

Steve’s hips jolted involuntarily, forcing them to part, barely catching their breath.

“Fuck, Steve…Please.” Y/n moaned at the new friction, suddenly needy for more. He positioned himself farther, just in front of her entrance, teasing her with his tip, as Bucky parted her thighs, holding her in place.

She shifted, head shaking as she turned to Bucky. “I want both of you.”

His breath hitched in his throat, the clutch of his fingers tightening around her, “it’s been so long, baby. Are you sure you’re read-“

“Please? Bucky, Steve?” She was begging now, voice small, eyes pleading, the pink blush on her cheeks matched the scarlet color of her lips, reminding Bucky of a rose. The red tint casted a celestial shadow across her face, highlighting the splatter of freckles on her nose, her dilated pupils overpowering the color of her eyes. There’s so much self restraint a man can have.

“Okay.” He said hoarsely, barley able to control himself, “whatever you want, darling.”

She smiled, biting her lips to obscure it. She didn’t care it’s been years since they were both inside her. She wanted them. Needed them.

Bucky dipped his fingers inside her soaked core, coating himself in her fluids. She gasped when he pulled them out, slowly, his other hand was parting her asscheeks, searching for her entrance.

“Shh,” Bucky kissed her left shoulder, rubbing circles around the tight ring of muscles, using her own juices as a lubricant, “relax for me, baby.”

Y/n sighed, feeling Steve length on her folds, still not pushing inside her. He stroked her hair, leaving fluttering kisses on her neck, so different from the aggressive lovebites he previously left there.

She felt her muscles loosen around Bucky, slowly but surly opening her up for him.

“Buck.” She inhaled sharply as he managed to get a finger inside her. Steve was rubbing lazy circles on her clit, and she thought she’ll cum again, the familiar coil in her guts starting to form.

“Again already?” Bucky chuckled behind her, recognizing her rapid breaths and the clutching of her walls around him. He added a second finger, sliding inside her smoothly, “I guess we’ll have to pick up the pace.”

A couple of pumps later, and he pressed a third digit into her hole, it was a tighter fit, muscles resisting it at first, but he was persistent.

“So tight.” He exhaled, humming at the nape of her neck. Y/n opened her eyes, not realizing how hard she shut them, only to see Steve’s hungry look on them, devouring both of their naked forms.

She felt the fire igniting in the pit of her stomach, a softer pleasure washing her when she came, panting and hiding her face in the crook of Steve’s neck.

Steve chest vibrated with laugher, placing a hand on her back, “Are you okay?”

Y/n nodded, leaving the safety of his neck to look at him, words too difficult to form.

“We’re almost there,” Bucky reassured, gathering her newly found slick to coat his cock, pulling out his fingers. He moved himself to her entrance, stretching her painfully even with all his caution.

“Yes, just like that baby, you’re doing so good.” He praised her while caressing her arm, moving another inch deeper until his base hit her ass.

She let out a strangled gasp, shutting her eyes and correcting her breaths. Steve squeezed her palm, signaling her to open her eyes. She looked at him, already looking wrecked; “Are you sure, y/n? It’s okay if you-“

Y/n bit her bottom lip, smiling at him as sweetly as she could, “pretty please?”

The man huffed, letting out a low chuckle and placed himself against her dripping cunt, thrusting his hips into hers, gradually filling her up.

“Oh shit.”

It was always overwhelming at the first thrust. Being so full she forgot how empty she used to be. The stretch opening her up, reminding of something she hasn’t felt in five years. Right now, she might’ve felt complete.

She wasn’t ready, until now, having them both in the same level of intimacy like before. But this was so impromptu, so raw, so them; it was only natural for her to feel like herself again.

They stayed still inside her, giving her the time to adjust, already twitching, and she felt every inch of them against her damp walls, clenching around them, making it unbearable for them not to budge.

Y/n was the one to initiate. Recognizing how restless they grew, she rolled her hips, a whine escaping her lips just when Steve and Bucky moaned deeply, holding onto her.

She did it again, this time it stung less, her body getting accustomed to the presence of them inside,

“Y/n.” Bucky groaned, holding her hips in a steel grip.

“Yes?” She blinked at him, innocently.

“Stop that.”

“Why?”

“You’re hurting yourself.”

There was a pause, “I’m not, it’s okay.”

Steve and Bucky shared a look above her head, brief but meaningful. Steve pulled himself back slowly, stopping at the half of his length, only to pound into her again; she shut her eyes, her hands on Steve’s bare chest, feeling the flex of his muscles under it.

Bucky did the same thing- he drew himself out and pushed back in, knuckles tightening around her middle.

Beads of sweat formed in the valley of her breasts as they slammed harder each time, picking up a pace between themselves, moving in turns and then together, whispering words to sooth her pain.

Y/n was a mess under them, being so completely full, any discomfort long gone or replaced by pleasure.

“Guys,” she whimpered, “I’m close.”

Her eyes teared up, head shot back and met Bucky’s shoulder; she squirmed, able to taste her edge now. She couldn’t take it, her hips shifting involuntarily to the sides as they fucked into her.

They held her still again, nearly collapsing over her from how close they were, how good she took them.

She was the first one to come. Waves on waves of pleasure striking harder than before. She could taste her salty tears and hear herself screaming, nails clawing at anything she could find.

“Fuck!” Bucky grunted, hips thrusting into her repeatedly until he came inside her, leaning his head on her neck, holding her close for Steve to continue until he got his release.

“Shh, baby." Bucky whispered, “It’s okay, we’ve got you.” Steve rocked her body, crushing his hips into hers desperately, his eyebrows furrowed, cheeks rosy. He was close too.

She whined, clutching walls around him for the last time, not having any energy left in her to do anything else. Steve inhaled sharply, the tightness of her pushing him over the edge.

He spilled hot shots inside her, nearly collapsing on top of her in a tangle of sweaty bodies.

They stayed like this, not daring to move, still buried deep within each other.

“We forgot the cake.” Y/n laughed breathily.

“You weren’t supposed to know it’s a cake.” Bucky muttered, toying with a couple wet strands of her hair lazily.

“We kinda gave it up, Buck.” Steve admitted, “I’m pulling out, sweetheart.” He gave her a few seconds to prepare -say goodbye to the comforting warmth of the both of them surrounding her- lifting himself up using the arm of the sofa. In one slick motion he was no longer inside her, the sudden emptiness alien and unwanted. A mix of her juices dripped down her legs slowly, blending with the shots of cum Bucky left in her, too, as he mirrored Steve’s actions, removing himself from her hole.

It was awfully lonely all of a sudden.

“C’mon baby.” Bucky lifted her up as well, handling her as gently as he could, “let’s get you cleaned up.”

“No, no.” Y/n protested, “I wanna see the surprise.”

“It can wait for tomorrow.” Steve said, piling up the boxes on the table, cleaning up after them.

“You didn’t spend all day making it so I would see it tomorrow, show me.” She was stubborn, persistent, they knew too well it was a losing battle once she sat her mind to something. And she was already set on the couch again. They exchanged looks, sighing and sitting down to her sides.

“It’s not much.” Steve said, suddenly feeling self conscious about his work.

“It’s amazing,” Bucky reassured, knowing Steve isn’t going to uncover it himself so he did it instead, peeling the cover off to reveal it.

Y/n gasped, drinking in the work of art in front of her; It was a rectangle shaped chocolate cake, completed with white frosting evenly spread on top.

There was a painting drawn into the cream, light strokes of brush that only one person could create, a beautiful mess of blue and red, like watercolors fighting to create harmony between them. It was them, it took her a while to find sense in the chaos, but eventually she recognized three figures, fitting into one.

 Beautiful.

“Steve.” She breathed, “we’re never eating this.”

“We’re not sure how edible it is, anyway.” Steve laughed in relief, embracing her and kissing her temple.

“We are.” Bucky all but jumped on them, wrapping his arms around the two in an awkward yet loving hug, their laughs ringing together in a gracious melody, “It’s not.“

[fuckcanontbh]

confessions in plain sight *stozier*

So this is for @ceftali in @stoziersecretsanta gift exchange! Sorry if this is late for you, but it is officially two hours into Christmas for me! This is my first time writing these characters so I apologize for any OOC-ness that happens. This is also my first contribution to the fandom, I hope you enjoy!

Note: bold lettering is Richie’s handwriting, words in [brackets] are actual song lyrics. Does contain swearing.

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

The sun beat down on the group, water dripped from their hair, and despite everything huge smiles were on everyone's faces as Mike told a story from the farm. Today was the first day of summer, so all of their backpacks crowded the space as well. Soon enough the group would be dry enough to get dressed and hang out in the club house until dinner time. 

"Look, all I'm saying is that half of the problems in horror movies could be fixed if the characters weren't such idiots. I mean, really? If you see the murderer, why would you scream so he sees you?" Eddie's voice was the only noise as the group headed down into the club house.  "Y-yeah. But you have to t-th-think that it's for dramatic e-effect. The character's can't always have a s-s-satis-satisfying ending." The group's leader argued further with Eddie, the two of them continuing their debate in a corner of the clubhouse. 

"You're actually going to be starting school with us next year, Mike? Maybe now you'll actually believe us on how crazy school can be! All the stories we've told you about Richie and Bev are true, and Richie told me he's got some crazy stuff planned for our senior year!" Ben's excited voice came from another side of the clubhouse, Mike and Bev sitting in front of him on bean bags the group had added when winter made the ground too cold and hard to sit on comfortably. Stan watched all of this happen and then his eyes fell on Richie, who was unusually quiet as he sat in the hammock, reaching into his bookbag for something. "What are you looking for?" Richie jumped at Stan's voice, but quickly pulled a comic out of his bag. "Nothing but the newest X-Men comic, Stanny my boy, you'll never believe the kind of shit Storm cooks up this time!" Stan peered down at Richie, but the boy's grin seemed genuine so he shrugged and sat down, looking over Richie's shoulder. ~ "Alright, we'll see you tomorrow! Meeting at my house at four, right?" Beverly had already made her way up the ladder, but Ben was still waiting for an answer from Richie and Stan. "Haystack, you know I'll be there. Can't let your mom miss me too much!" Stan's hand reached out to smack Richie before he could stop it. "Tell everyone Richie has been uninvited." Ben simply laughed at their antics and shook his head as he climbed out into the little bit of sunlight left. 

"We should probably head out soon, did you want to come over for dinner?" The blonde stood and brushed imaginary dust off his shirt and khakis. "Uh, hell yeah! Mrs. Uris makes the best food around here! Don't tell Ben I said that, his mom's cookies are good as hell." "Yeah, yeah. C'mon Trashmouth, I think mom is making meatballs and spaghetti squash." ~ Stan's house had been Richie Tozier free for about thirty minutes when Stan noticed Richie had left his bookbag next to his bed in his haste for dinner. The zipper was mostly undone and everything was one trip away from being all over Stan's floor. The boy rolled his eyes and bent down to zip it up when a small notebook caught his eyes. The book itself was simple on the outside, but it looked like a bunch of random things were also stuck into the book, making it thicker than it needed to be. It also looked like it was almost full, a slim part of the back of the notebook was still flat. 

"Just leave it alone, Stan, it's none of your business." The boy brushed his teeth and put on his matching blue and white striped pajamas before climbing into bed. Minutes seemed to drag on forever before Stan stopped fighting himself and turned on his lamp before he grabbed the notebook. "It's probably just some dumb jokes Richie's thought of...or maybe some songs he's working on?" ~ 'Science HW due Thurs 28th' 'hang out after school @ quarry' '[Somewhere I'd never ever known, right at the back of my head, it hit me like a flashlight lighthouse beam of light]' ~ "Seems like it's just somewhere for him to put all his thoughts. Wonder who the song's about..." With the idea that the book was just a glance at Richie's mind as it worked a mile a minute, Stan continued reading. ~ 'Bev is the best!! girl offered me smokes even after i had to convince her skipping mrs. hepburns class was a good idea.' 'FUCK BOWERS' 'Math HW due Tues 4th' '[Cause you talk to me and it goes over my head...]' 'operation: get haystack the girl of his dreams walk her to class!! maybe walk her home sometimes? don't offer too much help bc bev hates that! write more of his sappy poems' 'gotta stop with the your mom jokes, not funny anymore' 'why is history so boring? REMINDER: ask ben to explain' 'start saving money-no more big spending at the arcade' ~ Stan scoffed at the thought of the curly haired boy giving up his favorite past time. "What's he even need to save money for anyway? He's already gotten that truck of his." ~ 'work @ 12-9 sat, sun and @ 5-12 mon, wed, fri' 'do i have an "it" factor? don't wanna miss out on making my mark on the world.' 'i don't even think he knows he does it. soft little smile on his face when he gets to a difficult problem, who does he think he is???' 'ma and dad fought all last night again. big bill asked what was up but i didn't want to talk about it. comedy is a good distraction' 'work @ 12-9 sat, sun and @ 5-12 mon, tues, wed, fri' 'glad i saved up some money, had to buy groceries again. ma's getting real bad again. haven't seen dad in a few days.' 'can't believe i got lucky enough to have such good friends. billy invited us all over for a horror movie marathon, ben and bev were put in charge of snacks. seems operation: get haystack the girl of his dreams is in motion. good for him! now if only i could get bill, mike, eddie, and stan lovers...' '[you've been on my mind boy girl since the flood]' 'ma passed out on the couch last night, guess it's a good thing i'm a lot bigger now. carried her to bed then went for a drive.' 'i swear he gets prettier the more i look at him' 'haystack just told me he scored a date!!!' 'HW due wed 18th' 'dad came home last night. got a good earful from him. maybe i should just stop talking? not like i got the nickname 'trashmouth' for something good. wonder if anyone would even notice' 'taught myself how to make chicken alfredo, actually got ma to eat with me.' 'i think i'm gonna tell him' 'nope. not gonna tell him. there's no way it would end good. out of all of our friends he's the least likely to want me' 'they say it is better to have loved and lost than never to love at all. but then it's 2 am and all you can think about is him, and you know he isn't thinking about you' ~ Stan snapped the book shut and quickly shoved it back into Richie's bag, thoughts flooding his mind. "Who is this boy Richie is crushing on? Is it Eddie? Eddie does yell at him a lot...and they have a bunch of classes together." "I didn't know things had gotten so bad at home. Mrs. Tozier used to be a saint.." "Is Richie okay?" He couldn't pin point why, but as  he clicked his lamp off, Stan's chest hurt, but before a tear could escape his eyes he rolled over and pulled his covers up to his chin. ~ "Hey Rich, you left this at my house last night." Stan held the bag in-between them, his eyes refusing to meet Richie's, his chest still tight like the night before. "Stan the Man! My savior, got some important goods in here!" The blonde's eyebrows raised, finally looking at Richie's face just for the boy to look away quickly. "Can't lose my comic so soon now can I?"

"My mom made cookies!!" Ben walked into the living room,  plate piled with chocolate chip cookies in his hands. "Ben Handsome, you are nothing if not the son of a saint, if you know what I mean." Richie dived for the plate, one cookie already in his mouth and three in his hands. 

"Beep, beep, Richie!" Eddie scoffed and bumped the boy's shoulder, taking one cookie from Ben's plate. Stan watched as Richie's shoulders deflated, and the brunet ate his second cookie much slower. Before he could say anything Mike and Beverly's voices took everyone's attention towards the TV. 

"We're not doing more horror movies, we did that like two weeks ago!" Beverly was swatting at the movies in Mike's hands, trying to reach across him to put her VHS into the VCR player. "She's not w-wr-wrong Mike. Let's just do the Disney marathon." At Bill's words Mike sighed and gave in, backing away from the TV so suddenly that Beverly fell forward slightly. 

"Did you see that foul play my good man? Foul play I say!" Richie nudged Bill just to be shrugged off as the boy grabbed a cookie and moved to sit on the couch. ~ "I think I'm gonna go ahead and head home you guys. I'm getting one of those notorious Tozier headaches." Richie stood behind the couch as the credits to Bambi played, bookbag slung over his shoulder. "Yeah, yeah, bye Richie." "See ya, Trashmouth." "I think I'm gonna head out too, gotta help my mom clean up a bit before my aunt stays with us." "Dang, bye Stan." "Have fun with that Stan!" ~ "Hey Rich, think you can give me a ride?" The boy nodded and started his truck, hurriedly throwing a couple things behind the bench seat of his truck. 

"Only the best for a prince, amiright?" If Stan didn't know better he'd say Richie's ears had gone a little pink. His truck started and he pulled out of Ben's driveway onto the road. 

"Are you actually getting a headache Richie? Cause if not, I wanna talk.." His hands gripped the steering wheel a little tighter but Richie put on a smile and glanced at Stan.

"Always knew you could see through me. Don't know if we can have this conversation without your mother though, she wanted to be the one to break the news."

"Oh shut up asshole." Despite his words Stan felt himself smiling as Richie snickered. 

"I just want to say I'm sorry first. Because I shouldn't have pried. But I thought it was just gonna be stupid stuff. Maybe some black mail material."

"Wait, you read my fucking journal? Stanley that's fucked dude! I would never do that to you. I can't believe you went through my bag. Guess straight cut Stan isn't as honest a man as I thought. Dude, what is your problem?"

A red light had stopped them, and Richie was able to look at Stan in the eye now, his brown eyes angry, but also coming off as slightly panicked. 

"Look, I really didn't mean to get into your heavy shit. I thought it was just gonna be full of those little doodles you do in class and some new song lyrics. I didn't read too much of it Just a couple pages, maybe three tops! It's just got me worried about you."

"What did you read Stanley? Worried I'm sick? I can't really say I'm surprised." Brown eyes rolled and he clicked his tongue as he pulled forward.

"Sick? What- no. I'm worried about your mom and dad." 

"You know that's none of your fucking business. We're just fine at the Tozier residence. Nothing has changed, Went works all the time and Ma takes care of the house. Don't start talking like you know anything about them. Get out of my car, Uris."

"Rich-"

"No, I said I'd give you a ride home, and here we are. The Uris residence. Go help your mom clean up and figure out how to stay out of other people's business."

Stan sighed and hung his head as he got out of the truck, only turning his head towards the street when Richie sped off, a cloud of smoke following him. ~ "Beverly, I really messed up the other day." "Sweetheart, Richie is known for the theatrics, don't let it get you down." "Yeah, Stan, that boy is like a rubber ball, he'll bounce back."

A shaky hand worked it's way through blonde curls, brown eyes bounced around the room, landing on Bev sitting in the window smoking, the radio sitting next to her turned down quiet enough for them to talk over, and Mike sitting criss cross on the bed. 

"Stan, what even happened? I have never seen you this worried over some little fight with Richie."

"Look, I know it was wrong, but I accidentally read his very personal journal." Stan cringed as he said the words, already feeling Mike's eyes on him when Beverly whipped her head in his direction.

"How do you accidentally read someone's journal man?" "What did you read Stan?

Mike and Bev spoke at the same time, and Bev's cigarette was out before Stan could explain. 

"Look, he's just got some shit going on at home, and he doesn't want to bother us with it...andIthinkhemighthaveacrushonEddie." "What was that last part?" "I think he mighthaveacrushonEddie." "Stan, breathe sweetheart we aren't gonna yell at you." "I think he might have a crush on Eddie and I'm not sure why I'm upset about it." 

Mike and Bev shared a knowing look over Stan's down tilt head, Bev's eyebrows raised in a silent question that Mike answered with a nod.

"You may be one of the smartest most oblivious person I've met Stanley Uris." "You've had that boy wrapped around your finger since you became friends in second grade." "Guess you just didn't realize he had you around his finger as well."

Mike's words stung at first, but when Beverly pointed out who Richie's crush was, Stan's face lit up like a light. His cheeks dusted with pink as he met their eyes.

"You're being serious. Fuck, now I've really messed up. He thinks I hate him!" ~ "This is such a bad fucking idea. He hates you right now Stan." With a sigh the boy threw the first stone at the second floor window. It took three stones for Richie Tozier to open his window, and only one glance to see Stan before he was retreating again. 

"Wait, Richie! Please, I just want to talk. Can we go for a ride?" Stan watched with bated breath as the shadow at the window hovered another moment before it retreated.

"Called that one."

And then Richie was climbing down the siding of his house.

"Be careful! Why didn't you use the front door dumbass?" All Stan got in response was an eye roll and a thumb pointing to the car in the drive way, Went was home.

"Oh." "Yeah, oh. Let's go. Been itching to go somewhere anyway." ~ The only sound in the truck was the two boys' breathing and a soft static from the radio. Stan swallowed air and watched as they passed the movie theatre. 

"Look, I really am sorry. I just want you to talk to us more. You're acting like some shitty parenting is where we draw the line, have you completely forgotten that fucking clown?"

"I know. Sorry for being a brat the other day. I just don't like people to see that stuff, I have a reputation ya know? Comedian first, dumbass second, and softie never."  Richie turned left, leading to the outskirts of town.

"Yeah, wouldn't want to ruin this perfect "class clown" persona you've got going on."

"Stanley Uris, did you just use air quotes to describe my entire personality to me?"

A chuckle escaped Richie and the truck air suddenly felt much lighter. "You're a lot more than that you know. You're more than some shitty but perfect timed your mom jokes. We keep you around for a lot more than a laugh." "What else am I good at Stan? All I do is mouth off and tell bad jokes." Brown curls came down from Richie's bun as he shook his head, leading the two of them past a sign asking visitors to come back to Derry.

"They may be bad jokes, but they still make us laugh. You're always the first one to put aside time for any of us, all we have to do is ask. And- stop shaking your head. Who took the time when we were all younger to listen to Eddie explain which of his inhalers were for what and how to administer them? Who learned how to cut hair just to help Bev save money and keep it trimmed? Who helped Mike shear the sheep when Spring started just so he could hang out with us sooner? Who practiced endless tongue twister with Bill to help with his stutter? Who did all that? Richie Tozier did. You give us everything and never expect anything back. All I wanna do is give back. God knows you deserve it."

"Hey now, don't bring the big man into this conversation." Despite the levity of what he was saying, Stan could hear the tears on the other boy's voice. 

"I didn't mean to make you cry. You just have such a big heart, and I think sometimes you don't know what to do with it...I saw the notes about a boy. You know we wouldn't judge you for that! Shit, none of us batted an eye when Big Bill came out as bisexual, so why would we care. You deserve to be happy, Rich. I just want you to be happy." 

The more he spoke, the quieter Stan's voice became and the louder his blood rushed in his ears. Silence enveloped the truck again, and soon the tires came to a stop over a patch of grass. 

"Did you mean all of that?"

Richie Tozier was not a small boy anymore, he was all long limbs of 6'2, and had developed a jawline sharp enough to cut a man, but right now, in the dim light of his dashboard, swallowed by a grey hoodie and hunched over, Richie Tozier reminded Stan of that scared boy in the sewers. 

"Every last word. And I think you should know that a little birdie told me that I might be the inspiration for some of those lovely lyrics in your book..." Glasses nearly flew off Richie's face with how quickly he shot his head up, worried brown eyes magnified by the lenses. 

"Bev, that bitch."

"I wouldn't say that quite yet. She pointed something else out to me too. She said I've had you wrapped around my finger since we met in second grade, but she also said that you've had me wrapped around your finger for a while now too. And I've got to say, she's right. Can't believe she knows me better than both of us. But yeah, Rich, you've had me wrapped around your finger since you told my mom at age six that she had better get used to you because you'd be around for a while."

Richie put the truck in park, unbuckled and shifted to be more in the middle of the truck, and the yellow of the radio highlighted the pink on his cheeks perfectly. "Stan...I don't really know what to say. Still can't believe she ratted me out like that." 

"Say you're gonna let us in more. Say she was right. Say you want to give this a shot.”

"I want to give this a shot. I'm pretty sure I've been in love with you since we were twelve." A warm hand gently took Stan's as he spoke, squeezing gently before he scooted just a bit closer. 

"Slow down there Tozier, I've only just opened my eyes to the fact that you might be it for me, let me catch up before we start tossing the L word around. Buy me dinner first at least."

A genuine chuckle and Richie moved back to his seat, his hand still in Stan's. "How bout a late dinner at-", brown eyes glanced at the clock,"-nearly one a.m?" "Lead the way, Tozier. I'll be right with you."

[patchworktail]

ITS 4:30 AM AND I DONT FEEL LIKE SLEEPING so I’m gonna do this meme that i got tagged for twiCE and totally forgot to do til now!!!! (i had 2 dig through your blogs to find them omg)

ANYWAY i was tagged by both @mooitstimdrake​ and @cynessie​ (I MISS U BOTH BTW ❤)

RULES: Share 11 facts about yourself, answer 11 questions provided by the tagger, tag 11 awesome people and leave 11 questions for them to answer!

(I’m gonna skip tagging people/asking 11 questions - 1) because I’m lazy 2) because a lot of people who I would tag either have already been tagged or woN’T DO IT and 3) I have to answer two sets of 11 questions anyway so I’ll let one of those sets take the place of my 11 questions!!)

11 Facts

I was supposed to leave to move into my college 3 days ago but since my college is in Savannah they pushed off move-in/orientation for a weEK BECAUSE OF HURRICANE IRMA AND I’M STILL UPSET/DISAPPOINTED

That being said I’m about to start as a college freshman at art school, planning on majoring in animation! :D

I binged all of Buzzfeed Unsolved in like 2 days and I fuckin LOVE IT

Also BNHA is like my current main obsession???? I fell in love w that anime and uhhhh I’d Die For My Kids

I almost never use skype anymore - I’m always on Discord now (mutuals may add me just message me if you want my tag :3c)

I loooove creating OCs and my main OC is a forest elf named Rally and he’s precious and I LOVE HIM AND COULD TALK ABOUT HIM FOR HOURS (also my best friend @/harpxer and I have a huge ongoing rp with him and her mountain elf oc, Kahl!! they’re really gay)

Hmmm fun fact I guess I’ve been involved with internet communities since I was 10 years old and I made my very first internet friend when I was 10 and we’re still great friends and talk p much every day to this day (hi @/fiishr)

I want a tattoo super bad but idk what I’d geT

I worked at a jewelry engraving stand at an amusement park this summer and one night I accidentally gave myself a 1st degree burn on my finger from the hot glue gun and it hurt So Bad

I had my graduation party this July and it was really fun but the best part was when 14 of us played this giant game of spoons and it got really intense, made worse by people randomly screaming during it, and then we collectively decided to blast hardcore rap music from the speakers and Let Me Tell You i have not been involved in a more stressful card game in my LIFE

I’ll always always always fall for the hero/happy character/protagonist basically....idk what it is about me but I’m so Predictable...I love cute optimistic brave characters who just wanna do Right.....I don’t cARE IF PEOPLE THINK THEY’RE BORING I THINK THEY’RE PERFECT AND AMAZIGN AND I LOVE THEM

AS FOR AN EXTRA 12TH FACT ABOUT ME AS U CAN SEE I WRITE WAY TOO MUCH AND ALSO I’M THE BIGGEST OVERSHARER E V E R IT’S SO BAD SOMEONE STOP ME

ANYWAY ONTO THE QUESTIONS :3c

@mooitstimdrake​‘s Questions:

If you were to make a new blog dedicated to one single thing (fandom, hobby/activity, etc) what would it be? Honestly, right at the moment probably BNHA!!!! it’s legit my most recent big obsession and I love it?? so much???

If you could have any kind of animal as a pet, what would you have? A RACCOON!!!!!!!!!!!!! I LOVE THEM SOSOSOSOSOS MUCH and some people actually do have them as pets! They can be difficult though but WORTH IT

Who was your favorite teacher and why were they your favorite? OH BOY......I’m gonna say it’s a tie between my AP studio art teacher and my AP US government teacher from this past year, my senior year! My AP art teacher because our class was super tiny, 12 kids, and it really felt like a family?? She was a-okay with letting us all goof around and say weird shit, she was really chill and funny and like. part teacher, part friend, which was always nice. As for my AP gov teacher, he was SO. FUCKING. FUNNY. OH MAN. NOT EVEN ON PURPOSE he just like? put up with SO MUCH? we had some real character kids in that class and my teacher’s reactions were HILARIOUS. he had a sarcastic streak too so his responses were equally as funny when someone did something weird. He would say the funniest stuff just ask @/harpxer I would tell her so many stories from that class sohboshrb. Aside from the humor that class was really interesting, and he’s a really good, invested teacher - he wanted us to learn, he’s super passionate about government and history, and he always started off each class with 2 current events which was really nice and helped me learn more about things happening in the world too!!! overall that was like my fav non-art class I’ve ever taken!!!!

What’s your guilty pleasure (and I’m challenging you not to say some kind of food)? HMMMMM. Honestly I’m gonna go ahead and say really cheesy or lame movies/shows (like, Disney channel movies, dumb shows - like the one summer I watched all of Glee LOL, stuff like that). Like yeah I know 90% of it is terRIBLE but it’s still amusing/lighthearted stuff that makes me happy KLSDJVLSDHB

Favorite pizza topping? EXTRA CHEESE IF THAT COUNTS, if not then pepperoni!!

What’s the last thing you bought (that wasn’t food)? I’ve actually been buying a lot the past few weeks in prep for college/spending a little money for ONCE since I worked all summer. I got a bunch of boring stuff but the things I’m most excited about are: two posters I got for my dorm (The Office is one and one is Lord Huron), a giant wall tapestry (it’s Up themed!!!), tWO BNHA/POKEMON CHARMS THAT CAME TODAY AND EVERY TIME I LOOK AT THEM I START CRYING BC THEYRE SO CUTE, and oh my GOD I BOUGHT THIS GIANT PILLOW FROM TARGET AND IT IS THE SINGLE SOFTEST THING I’VE EVER FELT AND IT’S HUGE AND IT IMMEDIATELY BECAME MY #1 COMFORT OBJECT AND TOP FIVE FAV THINGS IVE EVER BOUGHT!!!!!! I guess MOST recently though I just bought Clip Studio Paint online today (art program) since it’s on sale for 50% off and I’ve heard great things about it!

What upcoming movies/tv shows are you looking forward to? UHHHHH as for movies... justice league part 1, the incredibles 2, kingsman 2, the neW POKEMON MOVIE I CHOOSE YOU, probably a lot more I can’t remember rn. AS FOR SHOWS HMMM I’m...excited for the next season of the good place and izombie, and oh I’m excited for the punisher netflix show!! and the next season of voltron of COURSE!!! and next season of stranger things!! probably more I’m forgetting too tbh

Any recommendations (this could be anything just throw your best pitch at me)? JFISDJKLBJ I DON’T KNOW OMG tbh rachel you watch a lot of the same things I do already LMAOOO

What’s your favorite thing to wear that you own? OH FUCK I DUNNO HMMM I really like wearing my various leggings and scarves, but as like a Single Item....I like wearing....uhhhh I have this giANT sweater like it’s WAY too big for me but it’s so COMFY and I love it. I also love wearing my Star Labs sweatshirt bc it’s soft and comfortable

What was your first pet? my cat!!! we took her in as a stray kitten living in our backyard when I was like. 2 or 3 and so we’ve basically had her my whole life!!

If you could learn any language, what would it be? UHHHHHH honestly probably spanish - I took it 4 straight years and was okay at it in class but one year went by with me not taking it and I forgot everything LOOOL I’m...bad....at languages....

@cynessie‘s Questions:

Where is the coolest place you’ve ever been? I haven’t been many cool places :( I guess the coolest isssss I dunno it depends? Lake George is where I go on vacation every year, I LOVE NYC, I love Savannah too and it’s where I’m gonna be for college so?? ?? ?  ? I’VE NEVER BEEN OUT OF THE COUNTRY AND I’M SAD BUT I’M POOR AND CAN’T AFFORD IT

What was the first thing you remember wanting to be when you grew up? veterinarian!! 

Look to your right. What do you see? a dirty plate on my desk, my bed just past that, and my CHARMS THAT CAME TODAY THAT ARE SO CUTE I CRY EVERY TIME I SEE THEM

What are you procrastinating on? ajkldjboidj lik e 4 art commissions,,,, and 7 MAP parts,,,, and my pre-work for 2 of my classes,,,,,,,and cleaning my room,,,, and sending thank-you notes to relatives,,, SOMEONE KICK MY ASS AND MAKE ME DO SHIT

Which family member are you closest too and what is their name? UHHHH.... I guess my younger brother Luke? or maybe my mom? I’m not on bad terms with anyone though, I love both my older brothers too and we all have a good sibling relationship I just talk more with my younger bro I think - second closest would be with my second older brother Connor!

What’s the last song you listened to? I’m listening to Ultralife by Oh Wonder right now :3c I’ve been on a huUUGE Oh Wonder kick lately!!

What do you generally carry in your bag/pockets when you go out? my wallet (w my license and money and debit card and all), travel size lotion, phone, and chap stick!!

What is one thing you are excited for? FINALLY GETTING TO COLLEGE NEXT WEEK AND STARTING CLASSES FJIODFHINBDFHBNSBO

Do you believe in ghosts? I’m gonna hesitantly say YES but I’m not 100% convinced I don’t think

What is a skill you want to learn? MAYBE THIS IS WEIRD but I think learning how to act would be kinda neat. On a more realistic note I wish I could learn to exercise without dying

Tell me a joke. I’M BAD AT JOKES DON’T DO THIS TO ME NESSIE!!!!!!!!!!!!!

SO YEAH THAT’S ALL FOLKS it’s 5am now...Nice..... :’) I love my ability to stay up obscenely late while also getting Nothing Done JLSDNVDHAGHVDLAK

[eungishat]

fools ch.35+36 (summary)

fools chapter thirty-five and fools chapter thirty-six by youngha and illustrated by park dam note: two for one again. i don’t like jungmin lmao bye. im cooking up real shit for the next two chapters lmao

Eungi stares at Jungwoo and Jungmin in front of him and he notices Jungmin's arm around Jungwoo's. Eungi says he feels like he's being nosy and annoying by visiting Jungwoo's house and he also wonders whether they're back together. Either way, Eungi feels like complete shit and his mood doesn't get any better since he's unable to grab a taxi. 

As he comments that nothing is going for him that night, he gets a call from Minseok, who screams at him for ditching him without paying the bill (like he promised he will. apparently Eungi forgot that he even made the promise). Minseok demand that he pays him back immediately -- he doesn't care that Eungi forgot his card and that ATMs exists for a reason -- and after Minseok hangs up, Eungi makes his way to an ATM. 

Back at the Choi residence, Jungwoo's sister is interrogating Jungwoo about why he was with Jungmin. 

ᴊᴜɴɢᴡᴏᴏ: 『 i just met him by chance. 』 sɪsᴛᴇʀ: 『 chance my ass. what about that other guy? oh my god are you cheating on him? 』 ᴊᴜɴɢᴡᴏᴏ: 『 what oh my god stop being so dramatic. 』

His sister stays put in his room and she asks if Jungmin asked to get back together with him. Though Jungwoo answers her, he asks her why he needs to tell her every little thing that's happening in his life. He tells her to leave so he can change. 

sɪsᴛᴇʀ: 『  that kid seems to like you. he had this silly smile while looking at our building -- though he did look a bit drunk… 』

Jungwoo's shaken by this, but the meeting he had with Jungmin stops him. His sister, on the other hand, presses on and she tries to convince Jungwoo to call Eungi since he seemed like he wanted to confess to him. 

Jungwoo finally tells her to drop it and that he'll handle this matter on his own. 

ᴊᴜɴɢᴡᴏᴏ: 『 the thought of me not knowing whether my sister's words were true or not, me hoping her words are true, and me wanting that neither of these are true keeps confusing me. 』

A flashback of what went down between Jungwoo and Jungmin appears. 

Jungmin keeps saying things about how seeing statuses about Jungwoo and Eungi together was bothering him and he apologizes for jumping to conclusions about their relationship. 

ᴊᴜɴɢᴍɪɴ: 『 it's reassuring that you two aren't too close. you know how it is -- he's straight and, in the end, you'll only end up getting hurt. 』

ᴊᴜɴɢᴡᴏᴏ: 『 'he's straight'? 'i'll only end up getting hurt'? 』 ᴊᴜɴɢᴡᴏᴏ: 『 this is weird. jungmin came here to see me, told me he was jealous, and he's looking at me with those eyes… 』

Jungmin seems to have noticed Jungwoo catching on to his plan, so he steps forward -- holding on to his hand -- and finally tells him what he's wanted all along:

ᴊᴜɴɢᴍɪɴ: 『 let's get back together. 』

He promises to never ignore Jungwoo; that he'll never leave him alone; that he'll never make mistakes again; and that he'll try hard this time. (Jungwoo kind of glares at him when he says all of this.)

Jungmin apologizes for being so surprising with his proposal and Jungwoo -- obviously not wanting to deal with this -- takes his hand out of his -- and tells him that he's gotta go. 

ᴊᴜɴɢᴍɪɴ: 『 i'll take you there. 』 ᴊᴜɴɢᴡᴏᴏ: 『 why? this cafes right in front of my house. 』 ᴊᴜɴɢᴍɪɴ: 『 because i want to, so we can be together. 』

And Jungwoo looks at him like he's 1000000000000% done with his shitty antics. 

They're now walking home and Jungwoo remembers how the two would secretly kiss whenever they'd pass this alleyway/parking lot and Jungwoo finally gathering his courage tells Jungmin that he's not going to meet him anymore. Jungmin doesn't seem too surprised by this, but Jungmin -- seeing Eungi not too far away from them -- decides to make everyone's life a living hell one last time by being all touchy feely with Jungwoo. 

Jungwoo's all what the fuck stop and keeps dodging Jungmin's attempt but of course, Jungmin finally lands his lips on Jungwoo's cheek. 

ᴊᴜɴɢᴍɪɴ: 『 i'm not asking to reply right away. i want you to think about this carefully. 』

lmao. i hate you so much.

Jungwoo is really confused about how he should feel right now. 

ᴊᴜɴɢᴡᴏᴏ: 『 i'm afraid to think about this but what if eungi really does like me? what happens after that? i can't be sure that it won't work out, but if it's not now, then the end will come eventually. 』

These thought keep getting to his head, so he tells his sister firmly that Eungi is straight and that he's had a girlfriend before. 

ᴊᴜɴɢᴡᴏᴏ: 『 you told me before that it'll be hard for me. and i'm tired. so tired that i don't want to win over someone who'll be hard to win over. 』 ᴊᴜɴɢᴡᴏᴏ: 『 even if i like him now, it won't last. i'll just tell myself that my feelings weren't real. 』 ᴊᴜɴɢᴡᴏᴏ: 『 i'll just give up too. 』

His sister can't say anything else (even though everything he's said was wrong and she knows this), so she finally leaves his room. 

Jungwoo is alone in his room and he looks exhausted. He gets a message from Jungmin and obviously seeing his messages make Jungwoo feel way less stressed. 

ᴊᴜɴɢᴡᴏᴏ: 『 it doesn't matter what the facts are, i have to strengthen my resolve. 』

the first half of chapter 36 is just about how jungmin and jungwoo met and literally i don't care lmao. 

met when jungwoo was in high school and jungmin was still an undergrad

jungwoo had major balls back then too bc he skipped school to meet jungmin

"you said you didn't have class today and the weekend seemed so far off"

JUNGMIN IS SHOOK

jungmin's like why'd you lie to me

jungwoo gets angry bc he never lied like jungmin asked him if he was a student in the chat room they met each other and obviously jungwoo's a student.

jungmin is done when he finds out that jungwoo isn't legal (yet) and tells him to go back to school. (jungwoo: what? no play with me.)

jungmin seems to lowkey fall for jungwoo when jungwoo does his classic play which involves him being like: do you not like me? because i like you *smiles* jungwoo's got game 

jungmin's first impression of jungwoo: he's weird

if you don't know that was eungi’s impression of jungwoo too

yeah jungwoo's got major game

doesn't get on the bus bc he likes jungmin and tells him that if he doesn't tell him that he's interested before he gets on, he won't ever see him again

jungmin fucking falls for it and makes a date. 

So the next day it's that famous arc where Eungi cleans himself up and everyone notices how attention grabbingly hot he is lmao even Minseok notices and he's like dude you have a date or some shit. 

Later on, Eungi follows Minseok to the school festival meeting and everyone's like why is he here -- especially Minseok. Eungi's sitting right next to Jungwoo and Jungwoo's uncomfortable af. 

ᴍɪɴsᴇᴏᴋ: 『 you gonna help out with the festival? 』 ᴇᴜɴɢɪ: 『 nope. 』 ᴍɪɴsᴇᴏᴋ: 『 then why are you here? 』

Eungi turns to Jungwoo and casually he's like hey long time no see. Jungwoo's so uncomfortable but he politely answers him and greets him and shit. He feels Eungi intensely staring at him (and turns out that he is). 

ᴊᴜɴɢᴡᴏᴏ: 『 oh fuck. he's really handsome today. 』