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devilat-thedoor · 8 months

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What Is and What Should Never Be Ch. 4

A/N: I know this one took awhile and i’m sorry. life has been life-ing😅 I don’t know if anyone has really noticed or cared, but for each chapter, I’ve linked a song that heavily inspired the story for me, whether it influenced the specific chapter or just influenced the storyline in general. I’m always listening to music while I write and it’s where i draw a good bit of inspo from. idk. But I really recommend listening to the songs or at least reading the lyrics💖

Word Count: 7.8k

Warnings: 18+ Minors DNI. No smut this chapter. Toxic Themes(Fighting/Arguing), A lot of angst and a bit of fluff. Nothing else really? just a general sadness…

…Stay a little longer if you convince me and tell me all the things that you have against me // Every time we make up the truth is fading, everybody’s blind when the view’s amazing...

You pulled the visor down, letting the keys drop into your lap. Your chest felt tight and you fought to keep the tears back, blinking them away as they came. As you turned the car on, you realized that you left your bag beneath the counter and it had your wallet with your license and money and cards, but there was no way you could go back into that place. You looked through the windshield as you put the car in drive and saw Josh barreling through the back door, trying to get your attention. Ignoring his waving hands, you drove out of the lot and went straight home.

“Why are you home?” Bellamy was standing in the kitchen when you came through the door and dropped your keys on their hook, “I thought you didn’t get off until 9?”

You slipped out of your shoes as you turned to her, “Umm. I wasn’t feeling good, so J- I got sent home…” You walked past her to open the fridge, grabbing a bottle of water, “I’m gonna go lay down.”

She caught your arm before you could exit the space, “Don’t lie to me, Y/N. What’s wrong?” She gripped your shoulders, forcing you to face her, “This is the second time you’ve come home upset and I can’t help but think this time also has something to do with Jake. What is it?”

“Bellamy, it’s nothing, I just want to go to bed.” Your voice cracked as you tried to pull out of her hold.

“It’s not nothing. What did he do?” Concern was etched across her face as she stared at you.

You shook your head, trying to hold the tears back again, “He didn’t do anything, Bell, it was me. I fucked up… You told me from the start not to get caught up in them and I didn’t listen. I did this to myself.” You were embarrassed at letting it get to this point. You should’ve just left them both alone and kept it purely professional.

“Hun, I also told you to have fun…” The guilt was creeping over her but it was quickly replaced by her protective nature over you, “Which one of them were you working with? Who’s there now?”

“No. Bell-“

She cut you off, stepping around you to exit the kitchen, “I just want to talk to him. Which one was it?”

Now you were grabbing her arm to yank her back, “Please, Bellamy.” You let out a sigh, “You can’t fight this one for me. I’ll deal with it, I just- Not right now. I wanna forget about it until tomorrow.”

“Okay. Fine.” She released a sigh, nodding her head as she allowed you to exit the room.

You strolled into your bedroom, clicking the door shut, and went straight to your closet. Stripping out of your work clothes, you reached for the one article of clothing that you always sought solace in; Your dad’s old, blue Penn State college hoodie. It was littered with teeny holes and fraying seams, the nittany lion logo peeling away from the fabric, but it still smelled like him. You pulled it over your head, the hem falling to your mid thigh, and held the sleeves over your face to breathe in the familiar and comforting scent.

Grabbing your phone from the dresser, you flicked the light off, crawled into bed and checked your notifications. There was a single message from Josh but nothing from Jake.

Josh 7:21pm: Did i cross a line? What is going on with you and jake?

You 8:02pm: I crossed the line. I’m sorry.

You didn’t wait long enough for a response, just plugged your phone in after turning on Do Not Disturb and laid it facedown. You picked up your laptop from beside the nightstand, opening it up to play some music. After clicking play on a playlist, you put the laptop down beside you and curled deeper into the mattress. The soft organ notes of the first song floated through the room, Cold Heart Killer by Lia Marie Johnson, the lyrics immediately plaguing you with thoughts of Jake.

But my friends keep saying he’s a cold heart killer

Make you crazy, yeah, he’s smooth as liquor

So damn dangerous, I got too close

Oh, I should’ve known better…

You really should have known better but even now, after the constant back and forth, after what he said, the idea of him was still enticing. Pulling the duvet up to your chin, you closed your eyes and willed your brain to conjure up thoughts of anything else, anyone else, but it was no use. Your mind kept wandering back to the night you spent with him, waking up with him, your body longing for the feeling of his draped over it. You gave up on fighting the thoughts and let them run wild until you inevitably fell asleep.

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“Y/N…” Bellamy’s hand was on your back, shaking you awake, “Hey, Jake is here to see you.”

A soft hum vibrated from your chest as you peeked an eye open, not quite registering what she was saying, “M’sleeping, B.” You pulled the blanket up over your head to partially block out the morning light but also to make her go away.

She yanked the comforter away, whisper-yelling, “Jake is in the living room…”

You rolled over, wide-eyed, “No. Get him out.” Sitting up, you pulled yourself from the bed.

“What am I supposed to tell him? He knows you’re here, Y/N!”

Now you were yelling in a hushed tone, “Tell him that I don’t want to see him. Tell him that he’s a fucking dickhead! I don’t give a fuck, Bell, just make him leave.” You pointed at the door to get your point across and watched her slip out and pull it shut behind her. Raking a hand through your hair, you let out a sigh and reached to pull your phone from the charger when your door was flinging open.

“Dude, what the hell is your malfunction?!” You heard Bellamy yell before the door slammed shut and drowned out her shouting.

You whipped around, knowing exactly who you were about to face, “Did you not get the message? Leave.”

He stood just a few feet away from you, those stupid sunglasses covering his big, dumb, brown eyes and his annoying, soft mouth drooped into a frown. He lifted his hand, holding your bag up, “You left this at the shop…” He was looking around your room and you weren’t sure if it was just out of curiosity or because he was trying to avoid your eyes.

“And you couldn’t just leave it with Bellamy? You had to bring it to my room?” Your tone was growing louder and you thought you saw him flinch, “Or better yet, why bring it at all, Jake? Why make the special trip down here for a whore? That’s what I am, right?”

“No. Y/N-”

“No? But that’s what you said, hun…” You were sure you looked crazy with your wild sleep hair and angry eyes, “I’m just a fucking whore who gets on her knees for everyone, according to you.” You released a humorless laugh as you turned away from him, “Yanno, my dad always said all a man’s got in life are his balls and his word and he shouldn’t break ‘em for nobody…So don’t take it back now, Jake. Own the fuck up to it.”

“Can we just have a conversation like adults? Are you capable of that or does everything have to be a goddamn fight with you?” He grabbed your shoulder, spinning you to face him again, “I wanted-”

You were cutting him off again, ripping yourself from his touch, “Fuck you! I don’t care what you wanted and you made it blatantly obvious that you don’t care what I want.” Your voice dropped, cracking a bit as your emotions became overwhelming, tears prickling in your eyes., “Why are you here, Jake?” You brought your hands up to your face, trying to stop the tears from falling. When he didn’t answer, you dropped your hands to see him coming towards you. He was grabbing your waist with one hand, the other curling around the back of your neck, as he collided his lips with yours. You instantly melted into him, moving your mouth against his without a thought as your fingers desperately searched for any sliver of his skin they could find. He was pulling you in tighter, his thumb pressing into your hip, when you finally realized what was happening. You flattened your palms on his torso and forced him away, “Stop it- Just-”

“Y/N, please…” He reached for you again, but you threw your arms up, blocking his hands.

“Don’t touch me… I want you to leave.” You could hear your voice shake with every word, but you tried to remain stern, “I don’t want to see you anymore, Jake, just let me be.” You finally started crying, unable to hold it back anymore, “Can you please just leave me alone? I can’t do this anymore, I can’t- I need you to leave.” You sat on the bed, letting your head hang as you stared at the floor, watching the hardwood collect the salty droplets from your cheeks.

He stayed rooted in place for a minute or so and you could feel his eyes boring into you, begging you to just look at him and tell him to stay. You saw his old, filthy vans turn around, followed by the sound of the bedroom door opening, “I didn’t mean it, peach. I’m sorry…” Your head snapped up at his dejected voice, but he was already gone, leaving the door to hang open as he left you alone. Just like you asked…

“God, he’s a real piece of work.” Bellamy came into the room after a few moments and found you crying, “Oh babe…” She rushed to your side, sitting down on the bed to hold you, “What did he do?”

“Bell, I just want my dad…” You leaned into her, letting your tears soak into her shirt, “I d-don’t kn-know what to do.”

She took one of her arms away from you to pull her phone from her pocket, “I know, Y/N. Hang on…” After a few seconds, you heard the facetime calling tone coming from her cell, “It’s not the same, but it’s the best I can do, babe…”

You raised your head just as Bellamy’s dad picked up, “Hey, hon- Oh, it’s both of my girls! How are you guys?” Mr. Cole’s jovial greeting brought a tiny smile to your face.

“We’re okay. Umm… Y/N could really use some advice, dad.” She angled the phone in your direction.

His eyes focused on you through the blurry pixelation, “Awwe, sweet pea, what are you crying for?”

Your heart warmed at the nickname; Your dad graced you with it when you were three years old and took it upon yourself to pick all of the flowers from your mother’s garden. You held them tight in your grasp, running to find your mom on the back porch and presenting what you thought would be a nice gift, Mommy, look what I got for you! When she saw you, covered in soil with fistfuls of the tiny, pink blooms, she was furious. She yelled and threw a tantrum about her precious flowers, but your dad just smiled as he pulled you to the side of the house and turned the hose on to clean your little fingers off. He looked at your mother with a gentle smile and said, “We can always plant more, honey… But this sweet pea? She’s irreplaceable.” He pinched your chubby cheeks and left a soft kiss on your head and the name stuck. Even after a few years of him being gone, Bell and her family still kept the nickname alive for you.

“I really messed up, papa Cole… Dad would be so disappointed with me.” You put your head in your hands again, shaking with soft cries.

“No, Y/N. There is nothing you could ever do to disappoint him.” He paused, only speaking again once you brought your attention back to the phone, “You were the world to him, his perfect, little sweet pea blossom.” His voice held a solemn tone now, “Talk to me about what’s hurting you, honey.”

After a few more sniffles, your eyes flicked to Bellamy and she gave a gentle, reassuring nod. You know she was dying to know what was going on so she could help. You looked down at your fingers, twisting them together as you started to unload on your best friend and her dad, leaving out the moment in the parking garage, for obvious reasons. “...And Jake saw me kissing Josh and he said some really shitty things…and maybe I deserved it, yanno?” You shrugged, confused by your own feelings, “He made me feel disgusted with myself, but I…can’t stop thinking about him. Part of me still likes him and I hate myself for it…And I like Josh too, of course I like him. He’s so sweet and he’s funny and he doesn’t make me insane, but I just-.” You couldn’t find the right words to describe what you were feeling, but Mr. Cole and Bell both listened to your ramblings with no judgment. “God…I can’t even imagine what dad would say.”

You could tell Bellamy had so much she wanted to say, but her dad spoke up first, “I think he would say that you went with your gut and you shouldn’t punish yourself for that. You may have made a few missteps, but that’s life, Y/N. You can either make decisions with your heart or your head, and though the outcomes may be different, neither choice is wrong… Now given what the boy said, I can confidently say that your father would’ve made him eat his words and his teeth.” He released a soft chuckle. It was times like this when you realized just how close he and your dad were. He could form sentences to sound exactly the same way your father would put them, “Girls, I have to get back to work but you can call me later. I love you both.”

“Love you, dad! I’ll call once you’re home, I wanna see mom too.” She hung up the call after you waved bye and mumbled a ‘love you.’

You flung your arms around your best friend, pulling her backwards to fall into the mattress with you, “Thank you for sharing your dad, B…and thank you for just being you. I wouldn’t be able to get through life without you.” You planted a hard peck on her cheek, making sure to pop your lips when you pulled away.

She forced a grimace as he wiped the wet splotch from her face, “Pea, my dad loves you like you’re his own, hell you practically are. I don’t think of it as sharing. You’re my sister, you know that.” She rolled on top of you, grasping your face to return a sloppy peck to the middle of your forehead, “I’m gonna make some breakfast. You hungry?” She popped up from the bed, heading for the door.

“No. I’m gonna shower and try to get my shit together.” You pushed yourself to stand and snatched your phone from the nightstand. The screen illuminated as you pulled the charging cord, showcasing a few text notifications. You pulled the old hoodie off and folded it, tucking it back into the safety of your closet for the next time you’ll need it, and made the short walk to your bathroom. Allowing the water time to heat up, you finally opened the new messages, three from Josh, one from Jake…

Josh 8:11pm: Y/N i wanted that kiss but if there’s something between you and my brother then tell me. Why did he say that?

Josh 8:32pm: Can you at least answer me to tell me you made it home okay? You were crying when you left

Josh 12:02am: Okay I’m trying to give you space but I’m going a little crazy worrying about you Y/N please

A new kind of pain rippled through your chest at his messages and you knew you owed him an explanation.

You 10:56am: I’m sorry, Josh. I didn’t mean to worry you. I made it home and just went to bed early. There was something with me and Jake or at least I thought there was. I never should’ve kissed you the first time, it wasn’t fair to either of you. I’m just really confused about my feelings.

You hit send and swiped out of the thread to read Jake’s single message, only it wasn’t a text, it was a voice message. Your heart dropped into your stomach as you clicked play to listen, his slurred speech coming through the speaker.

Jake 2:35am: *inaudible grumbling* … Youuuu… ha ha…. You really have me soooo *hiccup-burp* so fucked up… I don’t know hoooow you do it, peach…ha ha ha ha…peeeeeach. *glass clattering* You love it when I call you th-that. My sweet pea- *hiccup* My sweet peach… But you’re not miiiiine, are you? Nooooo. Naaaah. You’re too good for me…drive me fucking craaaazy, baby… *childish giggle* You and that goddamn mouth…just love to… press… my but- *droning snore* Shit…*more grumbling* ha ha. She…loves it…

What the fuck…

You listened to it again. And then again. The bathroom was filled with steam by the time you put your phone down and stepped into the shower. His message continued to replay in your head, the nauseating rush of butterflies growing more powerful each time you thought over it. You had him fucked up??? Did he even know what kind of effect he had on you? You finished washing up and pulled a towel around you to go back to your room. Sitting on the edge of your bed, you let his voice play one more time, catching on one thing that hit you with a head rush; Your nickname. Albeit accidental, caught in a boozy hiccup, but it was there. Spoken through Jake’s lips with that intoxicating rasp that made you weak in the knees. But it didn’t matter… None of it mattered anymore because you sent him away, told him to leave you be and that’s what he did. Would you have acted differently if you’d heard his message before he’d shown up? You shook your head, trying to dispose of the thoughts altogether, and started getting dressed.

When you walked into the kitchen, Bellamy was sitting on the counter, eating a bagel, “Hey, babe…” She mumbled cautiously around her bite of food.

You looked up at her as you pulled the fridge open, “What’s up?”

“Would you be like…upset if maybe…Sam came over later?” She lifted her shoulders, bracing for you to tell her that you would absolutely be upset, but it was the complete opposite.

You chuckled at her, “Bell, of course not.” Grabbing a string cheese, you closed the door and leaned on the counter beside her, “I love that weird little guy.” There was a pause and you turned your head to see her smiling shyly as she typed on her phone, “You like him don’t you?”

She looked up at you, her smiling growing, “I think I do, Y/N. Don’t tell him that, I can’t let it go to his head.” She bumped your shoulder with her own, laughing quietly, “We’ve been hanging out a lot when our schedules line up. Most of his classes are either early morning or early afternoon. He goes to CCA.”

“Oh yeah, you said he’s majoring in photography, right?”

“Yeah! He’s actually really fucking talented too…Hang on.” Bellamy held her phone up, opening instagram to find his account, “Look at these pictures, they’re unreal.”

You took the phone from her and scrolled through the array of photos. A mix of landscapes and portraits, even a few wildlife. You were quickly noticing how much he favored film over digital, but nevertheless, his talent was undeniable. Scrolling for a few more seconds, you were about to give her phone back when one portrait grabbed your attention. You tapped on the tiny square to get a full view. Jake. A black hat, wild hair and an intimidating glare, his eyes staring straight into the lens. He looked exactly like the Jake you knew, yet different…younger maybe? You slid out of the app and handed your friend the cell, “You’re right, he does have talent. Those are all amazing.” You looked away, peeling the wrapper from your string cheese.

She clicked on instagram again, the screen popping right back to the photo of Jake, “Don’t do this to yourself, sweet pea… He doesn’t deserve you, not with the way he treats you and definitely not after what he said.” She jumped down from the counter with a sigh, “You have to understand that, babe. You are worth so much more than what he’s reducing you to.”

You wanted to argue, to tell her that he wasn’t the guy she thinks. He was sweet in his own warped and twisted way. She thought he was sadistic…maybe he is…but not always. Not in the way he held your hand or how he always made sure you had lunch when you worked with him. The way his tongue would beg for permission before slipping against your own…But arguing was no use, she made up her mind about him, “Yeah, Bell. I know…I uhh- I’m gonna go get a coffee and maybe check out a few of the local shops.” You turned away and stalked out of the kitchen, wanting nothing more than to escape everything for a bit, “I’ll be back later. Love you.”

After getting your coffee, you wandered through the streets, slipping in and out of different locally owned stores. You found a cute little thrift store that you wound up spending over an hour in, sifting through vintage t-shirts and knick knacks that could be considered relics. When you finally started your trek back home, it was slipping into early evening. The apartment was too quiet when you entered and you found Bellamy napping on the couch. Deciding to let her be, you went into your room and followed suit, stripping out of your clothes to pull on an oversized tee and some boxer shorts, and fell into bed for a nap of your own. You opened your music app and clicked on your ‘Dad’s Favorites’ playlist, being met with the distortion heavy opening of War Pigs by Black Sabbath. Placing the phone on the opposite side of the bed, you snuggled beneath the warm blanket and allowed yourself to drift.

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*bzzbzzzzzbzzbzz*

You woke up to the feeling of your phone vibrating beside your head. Snatching it up from the pillow, you squinted through tired eyes, focusing enough to swipe the button and lay the device over your ear with a groggy, “Hello?”

“Y/N, hey…You answered…”

You shot up into a sitting position, pulling the phone in front of your face to be sure it was who you thought. Slowly bringing it back to your ear, you squeezed your eyes shut, “Josh… What’s up?” You tried to sound normal but you’re sure he could hear the anxiety in your voice.

“I wanted to apologize for not texting you back earlier, the store was slammed all day. We did really good in sales, but the order is gonna be a bitch to put away next friday.” The casual conversation threw you off a bit, but you were lying if you said it wasn’t comforting.

Your nerves eased at his usual joyous tone, “That’s great about the sales, though. And if you need me to come in to help out with the delivery, I’d be more than happy to, Josh.”

“Y’know, I might hold you to that, especially since I don’t know where to pick up with your organizing in the storage room.” You could hear his smile through the phone, but then there was a shift, “Hey, listen…” You braced yourself for what was coming, staying silent, “I don’t want you to feel uncomfortable about anything. I like you, Y/N… You’re cool as hell and such a sweetheart. But if there’s business between you and Jake, I’ll step back.”

You released the breath you didn’t realize you were holding, “I like you too, Josh, really…and not just as my boss, but-” You took a pause, not really sure what to say, “It just that- Jake and me, whatever it is or was…it’s unresolved and I don’t know where we stand right now.” You dropped your voice to a whisper, the bleak shame settling in, “I made a complete mess of everything and I don’t know how to begin to fix any of it…”

“There’s nothing to fix with me, consider the slate clean. As for him… Jake is easy. Just ask him.” He stated it so plainly, like it was the most obvious answer, “I know he wears his bad guy mask pretty well, but it’s just an act. He’s not good when it comes to feelings ever since-.” He stopped like he was about to share something sacred, “He just has a hard time dealing with his emotions. You have to push a bit and he will push back, but he can only fight for so long. I promise, I know exactly how he is.”

“I don’t know…” You fell back against the pillows, talking to Josh like he was your middle school best friend, “He’s so confusing, Josh. Just when I start believing that he likes me, he’s saying mean things or he’s flirting with Olivia. I just can’t help but feel like he only serves to hurt me.” You sat up again, realizing how shitty all of this probably was for him to hear, “Fuck. I’m sorry, I shouldn’t-”

He was quick to shut you down, “Don’t fucking apologize. This is the shit friends talk about. We’re friends, aren’t we?” He let out a breathy laugh and put on a valley girl accent, almost like he was mocking Olivia, “Baaabe, like, you know that, you can tell me, like anyyyything.” When he heard you giggling he broke character, “Okay, seriously, Y/N. Just talk to him and find out where his head is at. If not for yourself, do it for me…If he doesn’t want what you’re selling, I know somebody who’s dying to take it off the market.” He was laughing again, a sweet, melodic sound, “Listen, I gotta get everything cleaned up for closing but I’ll see you tomorrow, okay?”

You were smiling wide, feeling the hot blush spread across your face, “See you tomorrow, boss… and thank you, Josh. This- I like being able to talk to you, it’s nice.”

“Feelings mutual, Y/N. Goodnight.” He hung up the phone before you could respond.

Pulling the phone from your ear, you checked the time, feeling a comforting warmth spread through your body. 8:39pm. You slept a lot longer than you wanted to, but you felt great after the conversation with Josh. Flinging the duvet from yourself, you rolled out of bed and heard voices coming from the living room. You stretched your limbs as you remembered that Bellamy invited Sam over and made your way out to say hi. They were both on the couch, Sam leaned back with his bare feet kicked up on the coffee table and Bell, stretched across the cushions, with her legs over his. You stepped closer, making your presence known, “Made yourself right at home, huh, Sam?” You said it with a laugh so he would know you were joking.

“I actually did, yes. The moving truck is downstairs, I was waiting for you to wake up to help carry the big stuff.” He flipped his palms up with a shrug, “I’m surprised you’re not spending the night with Jake since he has tomorrow off.”

Bellamy pulled her legs from his lap to sit up, smacking his arm, “You’re brother is a dickhead, Sammy. She’s done with him.” She said it with finality, like she was making the decision for you.

He dropped his feet to the floor, looking from her to you, “Wait, what did I miss? Weren’t you guys like-.” He poked his fingers together, making kissy noises.

“I thought we were, but shit happens, I guess?” You dragged a hand over your face with a sigh.

Bellamy popped up, “He made her think that he liked her and then practically called her a whore. Not to mention the way he flirts with that other girl.” She shuffled around his legs to walk to the kitchen, “I’m gonna grab another beer, do you want one, babe?” She pointed at him, receiving a nod in return as she disappeared through the doorway.

When you turned back to him, his eyes narrowed, giving you a questioning stare and prompting you to tell him what happened, “Look, Sam, I don’t know, okay? We hangout, have fun, and then he changes in a flash and becomes this malevolent force that just loves to jumble my brain. I can’t do it, the back and forth, it’s- He’s fucking twisted but…I still feel this pull towards him, I hate it.”

Sam sat up straight on the couch, “He’s got some shit to work out, that’s for sure… And I don’t know all sides to the story, but there’s something you have to understand about Jake.” He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees as he looked up at you, “He’s barely even looked at a woman since his last girlfriend. Yeah, he flirts, he’s had hookups, but it’s never serious, not to him.”

“Nothing excuses what he said, Sam.” Bellamy chimed in as she came out of the kitchen, “He’s been treating her like trash since the minute he met her. Brother or not, you can’t sit here and defend him.” She handed him the IPA and sat down beside him.

“Bellamy, just let him talk. I wanna hear this.” You sunk into the chair opposite the couch and turned your attention back to Sam, “What were you saying?” You ignored your best friend’s scoff as you encouraged him to continue.

Twisting the cap from his bottle, he took a long drink before speaking up, “I’m not defending him. I just think there’s a reason that he’s acting like this.” He took another drink and placed the beer on the table, “His last girlfriend, Ivy, she really fucked him up. They were together for four years, really fucking lovey dovey.” Sam shook his head as he recalled, “We all kind of thought they were a forever deal, even mom and dad. Jake was so deep in love, he talked about moving across the country with her because she wanted to live in New York… Two years in and he was gonna drop his entire life to stay close to her.” He paused, scratching his chin, “He’ll kill me for telling you this.”

“Sam, please. Help me understand.” You stood up again, pacing back and forth, “Explain to me what I could’ve done for him to treat me like this, because I can’t keep forgiving his behavior. He’s letting me in, making me feel like he might really want me, just to push me away again. Over and over, and I can’t do it, I won’t.” You were rambling out of pure anxiety and frustration, “It’s not fair… I made it clear that I liked him, that I wanted him. We had fun on his birthday…at least I thought we did. We stayed up all night, completely wrapped up in one another, then the next thing I know, he wakes up a completely different person and kicks me out? I mean, what the hell was that?” You stopped to take a breath and Sam was quick to raise a question.

“Wait, you- He let you stay the night?” His confusion was clear as you nodded your head, “Like, slept in the same bed?”

Now you were confused, “Yeah… He begged me to stay. Not that he really had to.” Your shoulders dropped in defeat, “It was kind of sweet, when I woke up, I mean.” A faint smile appeared as you remember the warmth of his body draped over you, “He was out cold, laying on top of me. Fuck, he was like, clinging to me. But then he woke up and it was like a switch flipped… He pushed away from me, wouldn’t even look at me. I tried to ask him what was wrong, he gave some bullshit excuse and practically told me to get the fuck out.” You wrapped your arms around yourself as you stood in the middle of the room.

Bellamy stood up and came over to you, “He kicked you out after you slept with him? Why didn’t you tell me that when I picked you up, babe?” She was mad, that was clear, “I would have went straight up there and beat his ass. What an asshole!”

“We didn’t have sex…” Your voice was quiet as you stared out to the balcony, “But we still did things… That’s why I didn’t say anything. I felt used and I was embarrassed, Bell…”

“You didn’t sleep with him and he still let you stay? All night?” Sam was standing now too, trying to connect the pieces.

You released a huff of annoyance at having to repeat yourself, “No, I didn’t sleep with him and yes, I stayed all night. We made out, cuddled, wrestled a little bit and listened to music and then we fell asleep in the same bed, wrapped up in each other. Any more questions?” Pulling away from your friend, you stalked towards the sliding door to get a breath of air.

“He likes you, Y/N… Like, really fucking likes you.” Sam let out a chuckle and you turned around to glare at him, “No, I’m serious! It makes sense now!”

“No it doesn’t, Sam! Nothing makes sense!”

He flinched at your loud tone, “It does though…” He held his hands up in defense, waiting for you to lash out, but you stayed quiet, allowing him to explain, “Jake doesn’t let himself get close to anyone anymore. Not since Ivy. He barely hooks up, but when he does, it’s always some girl he meets in a bar that he knows he’ll likely never have to see again and he’s sending them home the minute he’s finished. Then here you come.” He was smiling like he solved an impossible puzzle, “I knew something was up with him. That day that I met you, when you came into the store and he forced me out?” You nodded to let him know that you remembered, “He was off his game. Normally, nothing can bother Jake, he’s always so sure of himself. But he was messing things up, putting shit where it didn’t go, and just overall in a shitty mood. Kept checking his phone and staring at the clock… Then you came in and there was this shift. For someone who doesn’t know him, it wouldn’t have been noticeable, but I noticed.”

You thought back on it for a moment, “You said he was on edge because of me…I wanted to ask what you meant but he was shoving you out the door before I got the chance.”

“I just kind of forgot all about it, but him sleeping with you- or not sleeping with but- well, you know what I mean.” He was waving his hands to get his point across, “Anyways… You said he kicked you out in the morning?” Nodding your head slowly, you told him about the entire interaction you had with his brother that Sunday morning, “He got freaked out. That’s it, I’m telling you!”

“Freaked out about what? He woke up with the same girl he asked to spend the night. What is there to get freaked out about?” Bellamy stared at Sam with her eyebrows raised high, clearly frustrated.

He slapped his palm over his forehead, “How can I simplify this…” He took a deep breath, “Jake hasn’t wanted anything past sex with women for two years. After Ivy, he changed. He-he’s closed off, doesn’t let anyone in, doesn’t let himself get close to people or let people get close to him. Ivy fucked him up, destroyed his trust.” He was talking with his hands, waving them around as he explained, “But he likes you and he refuses to admit it to himself. That’s why he freaked, because when he woke up, all cuddled up with you, it scared him. He’s afraid to get close to you because he thinks you’re gonna hurt him just like she did, Y/N.” Sam tossed himself onto the couch with a grin, proud of himself for cracking the case.

You let it all soak in, but something was still digging at your brain, “What did Ivy do to him, Sam?” You didn’t know what Jake was like before, but the way his little brother described it, she must’ve done a good bit of damage.

“That’s something he’s gonna have to tell you himself, it’s not my place.” He shrugged, leaving it at that, before grabbing Bellamy’s hand to pull her down on his lap, “Sorry, Y/N.”

You were fiddling with your fingers in silence for a few minutes while they both stared at you, completely lost in your own head. Your eyes went back to the balcony door as you gazed out at the city lights and then you were moving, heading for the front door and slipping your vans on. Bell called after you, asking what you were doing, but you just grabbed your keys from the hook and left.

💿💿💿💿💿💿💿💿💿💿💿💿💿💿💿💿💿💿💿💿

“Come on…” You had been standing outside for at least 20 minutes, waiting for somebody to come through the front door of the building so that you could slip in. You tried calling Jake multiple times, but he would just send you straight to voicemail every time. Just as you were about to give up completely, by some stroke of luck, a man was coming outside. You rushed to get into the door before it shut and went straight for the stairwell, running up to Jake’s floor. When you made it to his door, you hesitated, wondering if what you were doing was a bad idea. Pushing the nerves aside, you shook out your hands to wrangle your nerves before leaving three knocks against the door. You could hear him shuffling around inside, but he wasn’t answering the door. You knocked again. No Answer. Refusing to leave without talking to him, you reached for the doorknob, chancing it with a slight twist. You were surprised when it turned and the door popped open, “Jake?” You said it quietly, unsure if you should have gone in at all. Closing the door softly, you walked a little further in, calling his name a bit louder, “Jake…”

“What the fuck are you doing here?” He came out of the kitchen and walked by you, straight into the living room, making no move to send you back out, “How did you get in?”

You kicked your shoes off by the door and went after him, “You weren’t answering and it was unlocked. You ignored my calls… I need to talk to you.”

Jake was slumped into the couch, a bottle of bourbon in his hand, “Now you wanna talk. Convenient.” He scoffed, lifting the bottle to his mouth for a short chug, “You said you didn’t wanna see me, told me to leave you alone. So I did. Now you can repay that fucking courtesy.” His voice was calm, not the slightest hint of aggression despite his words.

You inched closer until you were standing at the end of the couch, looking down at him, “Tell me about Ivy.” You watched his eyes go wide as he swallowed hard, “What did she do to you, Jake?”

“Who the fuck- I’m gonna kill Josh.” He sat up, slamming the bottle on the coffee table with a bang, “There’s nothing to tell. It’s in the past and it’s nobody’s fucking business.” Now his chest was rising and falling hard, angry huffs pushing through his nose.

You didn’t come here to upset him, you came for clarity and he was the only one who could provide it. You put on the softest tone you could muster, “Baby, look at me…” His eyes flashed to you, a sad vulnerability in them that made your heart ache, “Why do you pull me in just to push me away? Tell me what she did, Jake, please.” He started to shake his head as you took a seat beside him, but you reached down, carefully taking his hand in yours, “How did she hurt you?”

He stared down at your hand wrapped around his, your thumb rubbing over his knuckles, “She left. That’s all people do is fucking lie and then leave.” He picked the bottle back up for another drink.

“Jake, I’m not leaving. I’m-“

“But you still lied, Y/N! You fucking lied right to my face!” His tone made you wince.

You pulled your hand from his, taking his face instead, “You’re right, I did. I’ll own up to that, Jake. I lied and I’m sorry.” You tilted his head, forcing him to look at you, “I can’t take that back, but you have to know it was only twice. I kissed him before I came into work and I don’t know why I did it, but then he came back and it happened again and I just-… You have my mind so messed up.” You watched him roll his eyes, ready to argue, “I’m not blaming you, I made the choice, that was all me. But you’re not entirely innocent either.”

He gripped your wrists gently, removing your hands from his skin, “I don’t know what you want me to say. What do you want to hear, Y/N?” He was lifting the bottle back to his lips when you snatched it from his hands.

“I just want the truth, Jake! You fucking string me along and just when i start to fall a little bit for you, thinking you might catch me, you cut the fucking string and leave me to fall on my face.” You put the bottle on the far end of the table, away from him, “If Sam’s right and you’re just afraid that I’ll hurt you, then tell me that. But if it’s all just some game, then it’s over. You don’t get to question me about what I’m doing or who I’m doing it with, it’s not fair!” Your voice was rising out of pure frustration, but he remained quiet, staring at the floor, “Tell me what you want, Jake… If you want me to leave, I will walk out that door right now and you’ll never have to see me again.” You waited for him to say something, anything, but he was silent, still avoiding your gaze, “Okay… I’ll text Josh my resignation.” Standing from the couch, you looked down at him, giving him one more chance before heading for the door.

Just as you slid your shoes on and grasped the doorknob, his hand was grasping onto your shirt, tugging you backwards, “Please don’t go.” His big brown eyes were pleading with you, holding all the emotions that his words couldn’t carry, “It’s not a game… Not anymore. I-.” He paused, fighting to find what he wanted to say, “I’ll tell you about her, just- Not tonight… Don’t make me talk about it tonight, peach.” He sounded so deflated, the complete opposite of the Jake you’d come to know.

“Okay.” Your hands went to his arms, sliding up over his shoulders to cup his face, “We don’t have to talk about her tonight, baby, it’s okay.” You kept a gentle tone, guiding your arms around his neck to pull him into an embrace. Despite the tension keeping his body stiff, you held him close, “Do you want me to stay, Jake?”

His movements were hesitant, but he slowly brought his arms up, circling them around your waist, “I do.” His face was buried in your neck as he mumbled the two words.

“Are you still gonna want this in the morning?” It came out a whisper.

“I will.” His body finally began to relax against you, “Promise. That night you stayed, my birthday…” His was still murmuring against your throat, “I slept so well. For the first time in so long.” He was tightening his arms around you as the confession spilled from his mouth.

“Then why did you kick me out?” You brought your hands back to his shoulders, trying to push him away so you could look at him, but his grip remained locked.

Jake released a soft sigh, “That shirt you picked to wear- the old store shirt… That’s the one she always reached for.” His lips were tickling over your skin as he spoke in a solemn tone, “When I woke up, I was groggy. I saw the shirt, your body underneath me…felt like the last time I woke up with her and it made me sick.” He finally lifted his head from your neck, meeting your eyes, “When I came out of the bathroom, I wanted to tell you to stay but the look on your face… I knew you’d want an explanation and I couldn’t-.”

“Whatever she did, whatever pain she caused you,” You held his liquor-blushed cheeks, “I’m not here as a reminder, let me help you forget it, Jake… Just let me in.”

“I’ll try” He let his head fall back into the crook of your neck, letting the silence take over as he breathed you in. You held onto him, pulling your fingers through his tangled hair, until he finally spoke up again, “Can we go to bed, peach?”

His arms tightened around your waist again as he lifted you from the floor. You wrapped your legs around him, keeping a grip on his shoulders as you whispered, “Yeah, baby. Let’s go to bed.” Allowing him to carry you into his bedroom and kick the door shut behind him.

🤍Taglist🤍

@jakekiszkasbuttsweat @ieatedasammy @twistedmelodies @dropdeadalyx31 @ageofbajabule @ohgodthefeeling-gvf @ignite-my-fire @becinabubblegvf @literal-dead-leaf @sanguinebats @myleftsock @laneygvf @writingcold @sinarainbows @lipstickitty @giraffehippy @jakesmustache @gracev0609 @gretavansara @profitofthedune @gvfmarge @brookekiszkaa @earthgrlsreasy @welllauragvf @takenbythemadness @swim2shore

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skoulsons · 1 year

Text

Dialing In All Your Pheromones

• gif from @olisgifs

• title from Novo Amor’s song “Terraform”

Relationships: Joel and Ellie

Word count: ~2800

Authors note: Just some father and daughter fluff :) If you ship them I will tie you to a table and force you to eat wet bread. This is the first proper fic I’ve ever written, so please be kind <3 I do have a ton of other wips I’d love to post eventually, if I ever finish them. But, for right now, enjoy this!

Summary: based entirely on this post which sent me into cardiac arrest when I first read it.

(Thank you to my lovely beta readers @ellie-licious @sunflower-0180 @swinging-stars-from-satellites *I was too antsy to post but thank you still!!*)

~~~

Note- I know she rode that one horse into Jackson in episode 6, but we’re going to ignore that for the sake of this. I don’t know, say they just walked them there. Or Ellie sat behind him. I’m just saying that she’s never sat and lead/steered a horse on her own before. Also, I know almost nothing about horses, only what I find out through google. So, apologies in advance if I get something terribly wrong or weird

Ellie never knew comfort like she did right now. A different comfort to her warm bed on a rainy day or even a lukewarm shower after FEDRA school drills around the gym. A comforting presence. A grounding presence that she could touch. The presence her heartbeat would match with and she could steady her breathing alongside. This presence in a man she has her cheek pressed against and her arms wrapped around, her fingers linking together in front of his stomach.

When she’s not bothering him with questions about construction, Tommy, or foods from Before, or she’s not taking a nap against his back, she kicks at his ankles with the tips of her feet. He ignored it the first two days, simply letting out a sigh when she’d tap his boots in a rhythmic manner, clicking her tongue to make a beat. But now, he kicks back at her, a smile on his face as they fight with their boots against Callus’ side. Joel always knew he won after a defeated “ow…” came from behind him as she shifted her weight to rub her ankles to relieve the pain.

“You kick too hard,” she grumbled, placing her forehead against his back and readjusting her hands to his sides.

Joel smiled, “Ain’t kicking you that hard.”

“Then why’s it still hurt?”

“Need s’more meat on your bones, you’ll be able to take it better,” he argued.

“Or you could kick softer,” she challenged, earning a laugh from him. It reverberated through his chest and back and through her forehead, forming a small, almost reluctant smile on her lips at the feel of it. It felt…warm.

“Sorry, kiddo. Not an option,” he smiled, throwing the lightest kick he could to her foot, just to tease her.

“Oh, funny,” she huffed, leaning defeated into his winter coat.

They continued riding a few more hours, passing car pile ups, fallen over utility poles that stretched across every lane, and overturned tractor trailers. They were getting closer to the highway. Ellie’s cheek was pressed against his back again, arms against his stomach as she held onto each of her wrists to keep a tight hold around him. Callus’ trotting kept a slight bounce in their step, and with the added velvet material of his coat and the steady thump-thump of his heartbeat in her ear, she couldn’t help but relax into his back.

Joel turned his head to the side, trying to get sight of Ellie behind him. She had been still against him the last few minutes. “Ellie?”

“Hm?” she mumbled, sleepiness present in her voice.

“You want to switch?”

Ellie perked up immediately, beaming at the salt and pepper mix on the back of his head. “Really?”

“Yeah, before we stop for the night. That okay with you?”

“Yeah, man!” She shouted, excitedly tapping the sides of his arms at a rapid rate, half expecting her tapping to make Joel slow Callus down faster the quicker she tapped.

Joel brought Callus to a stop along the shoulder of the road (old habit with driving, he claims) as Ellie climbed off first, nearly bouncing with excitement as her feet hit the mossy asphalt. Joel climbed down after her, keeping a hand on Callus’ shoulder as Ellie is nearly glowing beside him, stepping up close to the saddle.

“Alright, gimme your foot,” he instructed, squatting down and linking his fingers together underneath her left boot as she swung her right leg over the saddle. Her feet barely reach the stirrup once she’s in the saddle, so Joel leads her boot through as the tip of her boot grazes the iron.

“Hold on to both,” Joel says, handing the reins to her lap once she’s settled into the saddle.

She eyed him sarcastically, “I know, Joel,” she said, grabbing hold of the reins. “You need a hand up, old man?”

“Cute,” he scoffed, putting his left foot through the stirrup and swinging his right overtop Callus, grabbing Ellie’s shoulder briefly to stabilize himself.

“You just doing this so you can kick my feet better?”

“Mmm,” he hums, raising his eyebrows in consideration, a slight smile on his face. It wasn’t his intention, but since she mentioned it-

“No…” she starts.

“I won’t, I won’t,” he reassures.

It was nice. Holding her. Getting to have her against his chest. To keep his arms at her sides as she settles into the saddle.

You’re not my daughter. And I sure as hell ain’t your dad.

He hadn’t meant it. Not really. It was a mess of feelings. His inadequacy and fear. His need for her to be protected, just not by him. And for her to shove him and tell him she cares about him? For him to tell her he cares about her, without missing a beat? Course I do. He didn’t even think when he said it, it came out as clear as any other truth he’s ever spoken to her. Because that’s what it was; truth.

But to say she wasn’t his daughter was the furthest thing from the truth. Over the last three days (their whole journey, really), she was nothing but that. Teaching her how to shoot, start a fire, and do the ‘dressin’’ part of their hunting. Those and the teasing, laughing, bickering, and earth-shattering annoyance with each other is what really sold the family unit. He lied to himself, and he hopes Ellie isn’t thinking about it nearly as much as he is.

Getting to hold her almost felt like his way of apologizing. Of taking back what he said and telling her ‘I’m sorry.’ He’d never say it aloud, but he hopes she gets it, even just a little bit.

“Joel?” She asks, breaking him from his thoughts. “You with me? You haven’t moved or spoken and I don’t exactly know how to get Callus going.”

“I’m good,” he reassures, squeezing her side gently and offering a smile that was more for him than her. “…wait, Callus?”

“Yeah, it’s what I named him. Tommy didn’t exactly tell us his name, so…figured I’d give him one.”

“And you went with Callus?”

“Listen, man, it was the first thing I thought of! Besides, I think it fits him well,” she tries, praising herself at the name she’d given him. “Anyway, I was scared I’d do something wrong and he’d fling us off or something, I don’t know,” she admits.

“He won’t fling us off, kiddo. Well, you maybe…”

“Hey!” She said, throwing her heel back and making contact with his shin.

“Alright, alright. Here-” he started, moving his left hand from her side to both of her hands, grabbing the reins from her as she dropped her hands in her lap. “Hold the reins overhand, like this,” he demonstrated, the reins held securely in the curl of his fingers. “You don’t gotta hold ‘em real tight, just enough so they’re secure in your grip.” He turned his hand over, palm to the sky as the reins draped across his hand. “Show me.”

“Right hand or left?”

“Whichever you want. I use my left so I can draw my revolver or knife easier, but it’s up to you,” he said, reins still draped across his hand.

She brings her left up from her lap, taking the reins from Joel’s hand and holding them as Joel showed her; secure grip in the curl of her fingertips.

“Good,” he said, his left hand falling back her side as his right came up to her shoulder, gently adding pressure. “Release the tension in your shoulders, too. I can feel it all the way back here.”

She rolled her eyes at the comment, but obliged and inhaled deep, held it for three seconds, and exhaled, letting her shoulders fall as she did. Joel’s hand stayed on her until she relaxed, reverting back to her waist when she did.

“Now, for walkin’, It’s easy. You just gotta give him a little squeeze with your legs.” Joel glanced down to where her legs fell, noting how close they were to Callus’ shoulder. “Keep your feet away from him now, cause if they nudge him, he’ll think it’s time to go when you may not be ready,” he explained, Ellie nodding in understanding. “Now, gently squeeze your feet to his side. Gently,” he repeated, wanting them to start slow.

Callus started walking as Ellie tapped his shoulders with her feet, letting them fall back to a more relaxed position in the open air beside him. A toothy grin grew on her face knowing she was the one doing this, not Joel. “Whoa,” she smiled, barely a whisper as the clop-clop of Callus hooves stepped along the pavement.

“How he responds and reacts comes down to your weight in the saddle and any pressure in your legs against him,” Joel explained, Ellie nodding in understanding again as she watched Callus’ mane wave back and forth slightly. “Here, gently tap your feet against him again.”

Ellie did as instructed, tapping her feet against Callus’ shoulders once again. The signal against him made him go from walking to a trot, Ellie letting out a small “whoa,” at the change of pace. Her right hand went to the reins, holding a little tighter to the ropes with both her hands. She felt Joel hold a little tighter to her sides, keeping her steady.

Joel noticed her tightened grip on the reins and he gave her left side a gentle squeeze, as well as attempting a, “hey, relax,” but no words came to him. She didn’t need them. They didn’t need them. One squeeze was enough for her to hear him, and she let her right hand go from the reins, letting her hand fall back in her lap as she inhaled, held for three seconds, and exhaled, letting her shoulders fall again as Callus carried the two of them along in his trot.

After about five minutes of the steady trot, Joel broke the silence. “Alright, Ellie, try and make yourself feel a bit heavier in the saddle and gently squeeze your thighs against him, don’t tap your feet.”

“Feel heavy, squeeze thighs. Gentle…” she repeated to herself, squeezing her legs against Callus gently as he slowed his trotting to walking. Ellie let out a breath as she smiled, craning her neck around to look at Joel, the two of them sharing a smile together.

Joel rubbed his right hand up and down her waist lightly, commending her. “Good job, kiddo.’

“Can we gallop?”

“Ah, no.”

“Joel, please?” She draws out her ‘please’, leaning her head against his chest with a goofy, over-the-top grin on her face.

“You keep askin’ and I may just have to take the lead again.”

“No,” she breathed, a hint of offense in her voice, though sarcastic. She sits up from his chest, her posture straightening as she continues watching Callus’ mane flow back and forth as the clop-clop of his hooves fill their silence

They stay in a gentle walk for miles as the sun sets, creating a glow of orange, pink, and a dim purple across the horizon, stratocumulus clouds highlighted by the contrasting colors.

“Joel?” She asks, voice seemingly smaller than normal. Maybe it’s the exhaustion from a day of traveling. Or maybe it’s the setting.

“Hmm?”

“Look, the sunset.” She throws her right hand up in front of them, pointer finger haphazardly out in a pointing motion, like she needed to point to the incredible painting-like view in front of them that nearly covered the whole sky. His head perks up over her beanie from where he kept it down in thought, taking in the view. It was really nice. He could hear her breathing change to controlled, stable breaths. Content breathing as she paused after each inhale and exhale. Joel smiles to himself as he notices the light from the sunset creating a glow overtop her beanie and one shaping Callus’ muzzle. He smiles to himself, knowing that Ellie’s face is definitely also glowing, and it’s not from the sunset alone.

Ellie lets out a content sigh as she drops against Joel’s chest, letting her weight fall against him. Joel smiles at the contact. This is new for them, really new, but it’s nice. The comforting presence they bring to each other; the security. He’d be lying if he said his heart didn’t grow a size or two with these moments. Or even three or four when he wraps his arms around her a little tighter as she lets out another sigh against his chest, his chin coming down to set atop her beanie.

Joel’s not one to let his guard down, especially not in the open like this. He always has one eye open, one foot in the door. Always looking for an exit or being extra keen on their surroundings, despite his lesser hearing on his right side.

But right now is an exception to that; to what he’s built up so heavily the past twenty years. He unclenches his jaw as his face relaxes in the cotton of her beanie. He holds his own forearms with each opposite hand, arms against her abdomen. He holds far enough up his own forearms that they press against her, keeping her securely held against his chest.

Joel closes his eyes. For a brief moment, he succumbs to the embrace; to the gentle clop of Callus’ hooves, the calm breeze occasionally blowing Ellie’s loose ponytail hairs into the air, and her breathing against his chest. How her shoulders rise and fall with his; how they’re in rhythm with each other.

His lips find the top of her beanie and he inhales deeply, exhales just as deep. It’s so familiar to him, physical touch. Holding her face, snuggling together on the couch for movie nights, her holding his ovenmit of a hand during trips to Walmart, and kissing her forehead when they’d say goodnight. And man if he doesn’t curse at how strikingly easy it is to fall back to those old ways when this little girl is against him, his lips pressed into her beanie.

She turns and presses the side of her face against his chest. “Joel?”

“Hmm?” He mumbles, lips still pressed into her beanie, holding still.

She lifts her face slightly against his chest as his lips struggle to follow her moving beanie. She turns her head a bit more, trying to see him.

“Why can’t a nose be 12 inches?”

Oh, a new one. Joel breathes in and lets a sigh escape his lips, preparing himself for the disaster. He lifts his face from her beanie, “why?”

She sits up straighter, trying not to jostle Callus too much as she tries to face Joel. “Because then it would be a foot,” she answers, trying to contain her giggles by pressing her lips together. She cranes her neck more to try and watch Joel’s reaction intently.

“Wow,” he responds, trying a little too hard to keep his stone cold expression. “That…was terrible.”

“Oh, come on! It was a good one! You’re laughing!”

Joel shakes his head to the side, avoiding the attempted gaze and strain of her neck to see him. “Am not,” he denies, repressing the smile in his voice.

She sighs, turning back around and dropping her posture back against him. “You’re a loser.”

“Oh, I’m the loser? Someone can’t handle a little tap to her feet.”

“You kick me.”

“Oh?” he questions, tapping her right foot gently, but with enough force to send it forward into the air for a second. “I wouldn’t consider that a kick.”

“You’re such an asshole,” she sighs.

He wraps his forearms back around her middle, nearly holding his elbows to hold her close as his layers allow him. He gives her a tight squeeze as his lips find her beanie again. “Mhmm,” he smiles into the cotton, planting a light kiss to it as she relaxes into him. He breathes in the scent of the beanie. It smells like their fire from the night before; the one he taught her how to make. It smells like pine from two nights ago when she mocked his snoring, he mocked hers (nonexistent, but he sure made a convincing argument), and she balled it up and threw it at him, Joel deflecting it into a pile of pine leaves and acorns. There’s a hint of…shampoo? From when they were in Jackson and they had the chance to clean themselves up with hot water and soap.

It smells like Jackson. It smells like Tommy and that blue house they were so graciously given and the stables with that foal ‘Shimmer’ that Ellie seemed to connect with so quickly. It smells like fresh wood and whiskey and home cooked casseroles and morning coffee. It smells like home.

Now, come dawn, we’re going our separate ways.

No, he definitely didn’t mean what he said.

~~~

Tags: @not-so-mundane-after-all (thank you so much for posting what you did) @sentientmasstransit @memelovescaps @tloubraininfection @tlouobsessed @fieldsoftulips @bejeweledmp3 @swol-bear @cassianendor @bluestar22x @elliiewiilliiams @longl0ngtime @dancealongthelightofday @protectorsjoel @joelxmiller @scootkiddo @astrasomnium @fallenstar07

I have just simply tagged you cute people that I always love seeing in my notifications. If you want to be taken off bc you don’t like me or hate fics, please tell me. Or, if you’re someone who’d like to be tagged for any future fics, feel free to ask me :)

#the last of us hbo #joel miller #ellie williams #L writes #tlou fanfiction #idk what else to tag this???

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trashyswitch · 2 months

Text

The Orbeez Monster

Brandon, Cameron, and Angel have just finished filming the 'Hilarious 5 Minute Crafts 100 Million Orbeez Extended Version' video. But when Brandon gets a little too playful, Angel comes up with an entire plotline for a non-existant, childish creature...and Cameron is here for it!

This fanfic was a fun little idea I came up with after watching the playful video it's based on. As a result, this fanfic is going to have some spoilers for both the originsl video, and the extended version. So, I advise you click the link and watch the video before reading the fanfic.

Brandon, Cameron and Angel were in a pool of 100 million Orbeez water beads, and about 10 percent dark soil mix. They had filled the entire studio with these beads and dirt as a part of their 5 Minute Crafts video. The boys had calmed down from their Orbeez pool wrestling, and were now chilling out in the Orbeez pool. Honestly from an outsider, seeing 3 grown men ‘swimming around’ in a pool of over 100 million Orbeez water beads, was a hilarious way to end off the video. But even though the video was pretty much finished, Brandon didn’t get up to turn it off.

“Aren’t you gonna stop the camera?” Cameron asked.

“Nah…” Brandon replied as he bent his knees down to engulf his belly in the Orbeez pool. “Might want to save some footage for the BTS channel.” He admitted. Though if Brandon was to be completely honest…he just didn’t feel like turning off the camera anytime soon.

Plus he’s got at least half the battery left in the camera…so why not?

“So…” Brandon said as he started to sink himself further into the Orbeez pool.

“So…?” Angel asked him, still wearing his green hood.

“What now?” Cameron asked, bringing himself back down into the Orbeez pool.

“I don’t know.” Angel admitted.

Brandon looked at Angel with a deadpan look on his face…before jumping up and flopping onto Angel once more. This ‘whale flop on Angel’ had been their bit during the last 2 minutes of the video. Cameron had been doing it too beforehand. But this time, he just bursted out laughing as he watched.

“Dude…” Angel muttered.

“Oh, it’s in your sweater?” Brandon asked in an accent that showed the slightest bit of a Spanish accent. “How ‘bout dis?” Brandon declared before flopping onto Angel’s chest.

Aaah-!” Angel poked his arm in an attempt to get him off. “Brandon.” He poked his side a few times.

“AH- No stop!” Brandon yelled, falling off Angel and into the Orbeez pool.

“Stop what?” Angel asked.

“Poking me!” Brandon replied.

Cameron turned to look at Angel, and smirked. “Poking you?” Cameron poked his exposed right side a few times. “STOP!” Brandon yelled.

“Who would do such a thing?” Cameron teased.

“No one, that’s who.” Angel replied, also poking the closest side to him.

Brandon jumped and wheezed, before sinking into the orbeez pool to try and escape them. But all this did was make Cameron and Angel follow him into the colorful abyss.

A few seconds later, Brandon’s head and shoulders popped out of the pool as a typical Brandon screech left his mouth. “STOPSTOPDOHOHON’T!” Brandon flopped backwards, with a large wobbly smile on his face. “HAHAHAhahaha!”

“We got ‘em!” Cameron declared, throwing his fists into the air. “We got the Orbeez monster!” He declared.

“Orbeez monster?!” Angel gasped.

“Yeah! It’s been swimming around us all this time.” Cameron told him.

“I have NOT!” Brandon argued.

Cameron picked up the front half of the raw red fish. “-And he’s been terrorizing us with his fishy friends.” Cameron finished his sentence.

“Ew, gross!” Angel reacted with disgust, still holding Brandon.

“I have NOT- Well…” Brandon muttered, taking back his blatant lie.

“Mhm!” Cameron nodded and crossed his arms. “And do you know how to deal with the orbeez monster?” Cameron asked Angel next.

“I believe I do, Cameron.” Angel replied with a smirk.

“Oh?! That's good, cause I don’t. Please tell me.” Cameron rested his chin against the palm of his hand.

“Well I don’t know about you…” Angel brought Brandon closer to Cameron. “But I like to pick him up…” Angel lifted Brandon higher to show the camera his grip on Brandon. “And I like to tickle him.” Angel started squeezing and digging his fingers into Brandon’s gripped sides.

Brandon spazzed and threw his body around. “ANGELNO!” Brandon threw his head back and wheezed, before wiggling like a madman to get out of Angel’s grip.

“Wow!” Cameron reacted, a little too enthusiastically. “Have you done this before?” Cameron asked more casually. Angel grunted and yelped as Brandon wiggled out of his grip, knocking them both into the orbeez pool. “NO-!” Angel yelled before his screech was muffled by the orbeez.

Cameron dove into the Orbeez pool after Brandon, and emerged from the pool with Brandon in his arms. “I GOT HIM!” Cameron shouted.

Angel stood up from the Orbeez. “YES!” He shouted. “I forgot I could stand up in this…” Angel admitted with a laugh.

Cameron bursted out in a fit of laughter, before looking at Brandon from the side. “Any last words, Orbeez monster?” Cameron asked him.

“.......I…Um…” Brandon muttered.

Cameron raised his eyebrows. “Uh huh?”

“Uh…Uh-um…W-Well-” Brandon kept fumbling.

Angel leaned his head back and lost it with laughter for a few moments. “He just fumbles-!” Angel yelled.

“Uh-w-wha-umm-” Brandon kept purposely fumbling before breaking out in laughter of his own.

Cameron looked at the camera and shrugged his shoulders…before ultimately digging his fingers right into Brandon’s exposed armpits. “Truer words have never been said.” Cameron declared.

“BAAAHAHAHA!” Brandon bursted out as he started squirming and kicking absolutely everywhere. “CAMERON-LETMEGOHOHAHA!” Brandon yelped and curled to his right the moment he felt deeper skitters against his right armpit. “GaAAH!”

Cameron grunted and dodged a flying arm. “Damn…Orbeez monsters are a lot more wiggly than I remember.” Cameron admitted.

Angel chuckled and poked Brandon’s belly button, making Brandon squeak. “A little rusty in your monster-hunter abilities?” Angel teased, looking up at Cameron.

“Wha- no, I’m not!” Cameron reacted, clearly lying.

“Oh really?” Angel raised an eyebrow and crossed his arms. “When was the last time you captured an Orbeez monster?” Angel asked him.

“It was two months-wait…No, 4 months…” Cameron tried to think, pausing his tickle attack momentarily. “Uhhhh…Huh…” Cameron muttered.

Angel rolled his eyes and sighed. “Just admit it…” He gripped Brandon’s sides, and squeezed them both repeatedly. Brandon shrieked and went silent as he tried to kick Angel off of him. “I betcha it’s been over a year.” Angel teased, letting go and grabbing Brandon’s left ankle mid-kick.

Brandon widened his eyes and stared at Angel and his foot. He tugged on it, quickly realizing how strong his grip was. “Uh oh.” The poor man muttered.

“Would that be right, Cam?” Angel asked.

“Wh-Whaaaa? N-Noooo, no way!” Cameron replied. Again, it was clear as day just how much Cam was lying to him.

“Angel…” Brandon warned.

“Shush.” He gave his foot a warning tickle, to stop him from interrupting him and Cam’s conversation. “NoO!” Brandon tried to kick his leg free with his other leg.

“Keep doing that-” Angel caught Brandon’s other ankle, and looked Brandon straight in the eyes. “And you’ll regret it.” He warned.

Brandon blinked at him…before pulling on his ankle one more time, for good measure. But predictably, Brandon’s ankle didn’t even budge.

(He fucked.)

Angel smirked and looked at Cameron. Getting a confirmative nod from Cam, Angel took one more look at the Orbeez monster. “So the first thing you do…” Angel started as he danced his fingers against both his feet at the same time. “If you continue with a few more tickles.” Angel told him.

Brandon twisted his feet and threw his head back with a wheeze.

“Your goal is to get him all loosey goosey.” Angel told Cameron.

“Uh huuuh…” Cameron reacted rather dramatically.

“ANGEL, IHI swehehehehear!” Brandon laughed. His laugh was naturally a little quiet, but that didn’t change how effective Angel’s tickling technique was.

“Oh! You hear that?” Angel asked.

“Hear what?” Cameron asked for clarification. “His words “I swear”. You heard it, right?” Angel clarified.

“Yeah! I did.” Cameron replied as-a-matter-of-factly.

“About that…Make sure to not let the monster swear.” Angel warned. “He’s a orbeez monster, not a potty mouth monster.” Angel warned.

“Okay, okay. What do we do if he swears?” Cameron asked, getting way too invested into the ‘lesson’.

“Well, you’ll just have to see.” Angel replied confidently.

“Thihihis ihisn’t FAHAHAIRR!” Brandon yelled at them.

“Don’t you think we’re being a little harsh towards the monster?” Cameron asked.

“No no no…He’s fiiiine! Orbeez monsters have endless amounts of energy. And don’t even get me started on an Orbeez monster’s flexible body.” Angel told him.

“Ooooh, well now I gotta know.” Cameron teased.

Angel chuckled. “Why? Are you planning on trying something?” Angel asked, lessening his tickles so Brandon could get a break.

“Nah…” Cameron pretended to open a book with his hands, before grabbing an invisible pencil from behind his ear. “Just wanted to take some notes.” Cameron admitted.

“HAhahaha- Oh geeheeheez…” Brandon muttered.

Angel smiled and put Brandon’s feet down. “Put the notebook down.” Angel told Cameron. “You’re gonna learn by doing.” Angel declared.

Cameron gasped rather childishly and threw his fists in the air. “YES!” Cameron picked up Brandon and started digging right into his underarms.

Brandon screeched and clamped his arms against his sides, hanging his head as laughter practically fell out of him. “DohoHOHON’T!” He shouted.

“Yeah, there you go! Make him absolutely elated.” Angel told him.

“No problemo.” Cameron picked up Brandon, and threw him into the Orbeez pool.

When Brandon sank into the pool, Cameron dove in after him and absolutely wrecked him with tickles within the pool. The moment Brandon’s slightly muffled laughter could be heard from inside the Orbeez pool, Angel threw his head back and bursted out with laughter. It was sidesplitting hearing Brandon laugh so loud.

“CAHAHAM! HAHAHAHA- GOD DAHAHAHAMMIHIHIT!” Brandon could be heard shouting.

“Oh, getting lippy now, huh?” Cameron smirked and lifted up Brandon bridal style. “Don’t make me do it~” Cam warned.

“Do what?” Brandon asked.

“Don’t make me feed you raspberries~” Cameron clarified.

Angel gasped and covered his mouth with his sleeve-covered hands. “OH NO!”

“IIII’m gonna do it~” Cam declared with the most evil smirk he could muster.

“WaitwaiTWAITCAM-” Brandon shrieked the moment he watched Cam take in a gasp of air, before absolutely losing it with laughter.

“HOHOLY SHIT!” Angel shouted with shock.

Cam’s raspberry, as well as Brandon’s laughter, was practically echoing throughout the room. It was almost a blessing no one else was in that house…because Brandon’s screeches and shouts could’ve thrown someone into a panic.

Cameron’s laughter soon overpowered Brandon’s as he put him down. “IHI’M NOT KILLING YOU!” Cameron threw his arms up in arrest. “IHIHI SWEAR!” He shouted.

Brandon’s laughter slowly began to die down. “Hahaha…hehehe…f*ck…haaah…” Brandon muttered.

Cameron laughed a little bit. “Are you okay?” He asked.

Brandon wiggled his body a little bit, so he could fall into the Orbeez pool they were still in.

“Uhhhh…Did…” Angel pointed to the camera. “Did you realize the camera was still on?” He asked.

Brandon widened his eyes as the horrifying reality hit: He had forgotten about the still-recording camera…meaning the boys’ entire tickle-wrestling had been fully recorded.

Brandon had groaned and began pouting like a child while he hid himself deeper within the Orbeez pool. It would appear that Brandon’s laziness had gotten the best of him.

Cameron and Angel had both bursted out laughing. It actually looked like Brandon was trying to cover up his own face out of pure embarrassment. And boy oh boy, was it not working. If anything, it made him look even more childish than he already was. And a small reminder: This man has a wife! And 2 kids!

Though this man does own a YouTube channel, where his whole schtick is buying useless stuff off Amazon and reviewing them alongside his best friends…So…Take that as you will.

#boys being boys #teasing #roughhousing #orbeez water beads #ticklefic #ler!cameron #ler!angel #lee!brandon #post-hilarious 5 minute crafts (100 million orbeez extended version)#imbrandonfarris

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opalsiren · 3 years

Note

could you elaborate on the h2o season 3 plot being an oirish colonial trope? (im not doubting you i just wanna hear your perspective) (also i had to google what oirish meant lol)

sure!

i’ll try to keep this as brief as possible since delving into ireland’s entire colonial past would take far too long, but the important bit is as follows: colonial powers seek to other and dehumanize colonized peoples in order to justify colonialism. one way to achieve this is by fixating on the magical and mythological elements of the colonized culture. after all, why should respect be afforded to a primitive and infantile culture? surely cultural imperialism should be enforced in order to civilise the savage barbarians mocked for their preoccupation with ‘leprechauns, rainbows and shillelaghs?’

the way that h2o approaches irish identity and culture is no different. whenever bella discusses the time she spent in ireland as a child, the audience is treated to a twee irish flute motif which evokes pretty much every misrepresentation of irish culture from ‘the quiet man’ to ‘wild mountain thyme.’ the place in which bella transforms is not temporally specific, as ‘the sea caves of ireland’ are about as much of a thing as ‘the tall buildings of ireland.’ we see a younger bella, uninhibited, playing in the green fields and down by the rocky cliffs, lost in a natural, primitive setting and embracing the magic of the noble savages (read with heavy sarcasm)

later, when the girls are trying to solve the mystery of the comet, bella references irish mythology surrounding the first appearance of the comet. the audience is subjected once more to the tired flute music, and we learn of the story of aoibhe eva, a mermaid who saved the irish people using the tower of light and disappeared without a trace

what’s the harm in an innocuous story about an irish mermaid, i hear you ask? against the backdrop of every single representation of irishness as superstitious, traditional, primitive, and backward, the comet plot is a cultural hangover of colonialism. consider the ways in which the h2o writers have approached the mythos of former mermaids prior to the comet: louise, julia, and gracie are alive within the current merms’s lifetimes, and their stories are not temporally nor culturally specific in the same way

the way that the h2o writers chose to represent colonised cultures is entirely bound up in colonialism. if bella had transformed in the english countryside, or if eva had been a mermaid from florida, would the effect have been the same? let us all be wary of representations of irishness—especially those which fixate on magic and folklore—even if such representations may seem ‘positive’ on the surface!

tl;dr: ireland is a real country with real people and big industrialized cities. at the time bella transformed ireland was at the height of an economic boom and is a prosperous, developed nation, not just rural towns where everyone tries to avoid fairy rings and tells tales about mermaids and selkies while playing dodgy irish flute music. jonathan shiff if we ever meet it’s on sight

also while we’re here we should probably talk about the orientalism in h2o and mako mermaids but that might be a conversation for another day

#not gonna put this in the tags for obvious reasons #also please click on the links and read them before you try to argue #colonialism #irishness #irish identity #like this is something that seems relatively innocuous on the surface. but let's talk about the representations of australia in the show #and how there's nothing specific to australian identity within h2o bar the accents and some of the slang (most of which is also heard in #the uk)#irishness is not treated the same. irish culture and identity is something which has to be presented with flute music and bound up in #magic and mysticism. yes this is a show about mermaids but why is eva's story from hundreds of years ago?#why doesn't australia seem to have the same magic aura about it? why does vaguely eastern-souding music play during the scene where #charlotte mentions japanese brush painting? why is everyone obsessed with talking about hozier communing with the fae and becoming one #with the bog when he's literally chilling in greystones aka a very affluent suburb just outside of dublin making music?#ask #answered #'i'll try to keep this as brief as possible' she says while typing out a post that is a mile long #actually no if i had to suffer 800 years of colonial oppression you can read my long post lmaooooo #thank u for the ask also!

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gojo-x-reader · 2 years

Text

So Enticing

Relationship(s): Gojo Satoru x F!Reader

Warnings: explicit sex (in the AO3 link), swearing, one night stand

Tags: One Night Stand

AO3 Link: here (nsfw)

Words: ~11k (nsfw); ~5k (tumblr ver)

Request: “Can I please request a fic where Gojo meets F!reader and takes her back to his place for *sexy times* but they get interrupted by curses attacking (can be as sfw/smutty as you like) and now reader has to process that a) curses exist and b) her hook up is very, very hot when fighting demons. *Bonus points for making Gojo fight naked or him keeping the blindfold on the *whole* time Thank you <3″

Author Note: Below the cut is the version omitting the smut. For the explicit version, please click on my AO3 link. Disclaimer: I am not responsible for anyone under the age of 18 reading the explicit version.

You sighed for what felt like the fiftieth time into the glass of whiskey you’ve been nursing for the past hour. The ice was already mostly melted, watering down the strong taste you were craving earlier when you ordered it.

It had been a long week. First, you found out your boyfriend of three years was cheating on you with not one but two girls. They both had shown up to your (shared) apartment with you and your boyfriend late Monday night. Apparently, your piece of shit (now ex-) boyfriend had set up a date with each of them at the same time and place, then forgot about them. The two girls had bonded over being stood up, then found out they were dating the same guy. That led them to “his” apartment for a confrontation, only to find out that there was another girl involved.

The two girls were nice about it and you let them have their word with your boyfriend before they exchanged numbers with you and left. Immediately after they left, you gave your boyfriend an hour to leave with his stuff and never show his face to you again. He didn’t even try to argue. So now you lost not only your boyfriend but also your roommate that split rent and utilities with you.

As if that wasn’t enough, the late-night you had Monday caused you to be late for work the next day. It was only your third tardy the whole four years you had worked with the company, but it was enough for you to go on probation. Between the stress of now having to pay full rent, being on probation, and losing sleep, you completely messed up your presentation Thursday, causing your company to lose out on an incredible deal. The next day, you showed up only for your things to be packed up in a box and a paper informing you of dismissal from the company.

So that was what led you to be sitting here in a bar, alone and sipping whiskey. You didn’t like the bar scene; it was too noisy, too “fun”, too… not you. You didn’t even like whiskey, either. But you just needed one night to let go of yourself before you had to get your life together. Yes, tomorrow you would worry about everything. Tonight is to have fun and stop worrying.

“An awful lot of sighs for someone alone,” a stranger called over to you from a few seats away. He, too, seemed alone. But that wasn’t what caught your attention. He was dressed nicely, a plain white shirt tucked into dark pants with a belt. Strapped onto his wrist was a watch in some expensive brand you never bothered to care about. His hair was bright white, but he seemed young, about your age. It was messy like he didn’t bother, but it was almost endearing. He wore dark sunglasses, even inside in the dark light of the bar, high enough that you couldn’t see his eye color. He cradled a dark jacket in his arms as he sipped some type of drink with orange juice in it.

“I have a lot to sigh about,” you replied.

“What types of things would make a lady sigh almost twenty-six times in one hour?”

“You were counting?”

“Hard not to,” he retorted.

You sighed again, deciding to humor him. “I’ve had a shitty week.” He nodded, silently telling you to go on. “Found out my boyfriend was cheating on me, then I got fired from my job today. Now I have increased rent and no income. I’m stressed.”

“That sounds stressful.” The mysterious man stood up. He sauntered closer to you, pointing to the empty seat next to you. “Do you mind?”

“Not at all,” you replied, and he sat on the seat.

The man waved over the bartender. “A new whiskey for the lady here and another special for me.” The bartender nodded, then left to make the drinks.

You weren’t sure what to do in this instance. In the very rare times that you went to bars, back in your college days, no one ever offered to buy you a drink. Instead, your much prettier friends were offered drinks upon drinks.

“So, stressed over rent, huh?” the man initiated small talk.

You quickly chugged the rest of your watered-down whiskey. It didn’t burn nearly as much now, but that much whiskey in a short time certainly gave you a buzz. You probably would never see this man again, why not open up to him a bit about your problems in life?

“I met the asshole I used to call my boyfriend in college, my last semester,” you started. “We started off as good friends, but it wasn’t until he graduated a year after me that we started going out. I’ll admit, we moved quickly. Within a few months, he was already practically living at my place so I asked him to move in to help with rent. I had a nice job, but it didn’t hurt to have help paying for things. I probably should’ve gotten rid of him within six months of him moving in. He didn’t contribute much to keeping the place clean, had issues holding down jobs. I felt so relieved when those girls he cheated on me with came to my place. I finally had a real reason to get rid of him.”

The bartender set the new drink glasses down, momentarily interrupting your conversation. You immediately took the whiskey into your hands and took a large sip. It burned all down your chest, warming you up immediately. This man was a really good listener; you felt like you could really open up.

“I got fired because I was so stressed about everything that I fucked up a presentation. Bad. My company lost out on a huge deal and naturally got rid of the weakest link that barred them from it. So now here I am: single, jobless, and tipsy, opening up about stuff I won’t even talk about to my friends to a man I just met.”

You started sipping the whiskey more. You were well beyond tipsy, almost drunk by now.

“Getting drunk isn’t the best coping mechanism out there,” the man admitted. “Especially for a woman drinking alone. Why didn’t you just drink at home?”

That was a good question. Unfortunately, you already knew the answer. “My apartment already has bad memories attached.” You gulped down the rest of your whiskey, slamming the glass onto the counter. The man had barely touched his own drink, instead turning his attention to you. “I think… I think I also wanted some company tonight. My friends told me to get rid of my boyfriend years ago. Hell, they didn’t even approve of him before we dated. I don’t think I can handle the incoming ‘we told you so.’ I’m so stupid, I should’ve listened.”

“Love makes us do stupid things, sometimes.”

“I wouldn’t even call that love. More like, settling for a companionship. Afraid of being lonely for the rest of my life and latching onto the first person who showed interest.” At this point, your words were slurring. You stared hard at the mystery man’s drink, wondering what exactly was in this so-called “special.”

You grabbed his untouched drink, now aware of how drunk you were. Your proprioception was thrown off, and you spilled a little of the drink on the floor. “Fuck,” you cursed, then turned your attention to the man in front of you. “Hey, what’s in this? Vodka? Gin? I could go for something stronger now.” You didn’t even give him a chance to answer before chugging the whole thing. He held out a hand to stop you, but it dropped almost as quickly as he raised it, accepting defeat.

After finishing his drink and slamming it onto the counter next to your own empty glass, you began giggling uncontrollably. After settling down, you said, “What kind of a guy goes to a bar and orders orange juice?”

“Perhaps the type of guy also wanting some company.”

There was a brief moment of silence. “Hey,” you interrupted. “What do you look like under those glasses? Are you ugly? You must be hiding your face like that in a dark bar. And if you’re not, then why would a good-looking guy be hanging around some plain woman like me? So, you gotta be ugly.”

Oh, you were gone. You had no filter now, the logical part of your brain screaming at you to shut up. Of course, this man wasn’t ugly, you were just spouting things off because of your own insecurities.

You began reaching up to his glasses to take them off. He leaned back almost instinctively, causing you to lose your balance and fall face-first into his lap. You were embarrassed first and foremost, but also he was warm. You wanted to continue laying there on his lap and just ignore all your problems.

He helped you back up into your seat, apologizing for causing you to fall. After making sure you were okay (and more importantly, were not going to throw up from being off-balance), he ordered you a glass of water. He gently placed his jacket around your shoulders, the fabric completely engulfing you. After the glass of water arrived, he held it to your lips and tipped it for you to drink. Your face felt warm from the attention, or maybe it was just the alcohol. Was it sad that in less than five minutes, a man you just met showed you more attention and care than your boyfriend had bothered with in the past three years?

After you had a grip on your water and was sipping it, he sat back down. “Do you really wanna know what I look like without my glasses?” he asked, resting his head on his arm on the counter.

You nodded eagerly, nearly spilling your water.

The man chuckled softly, then reached up with his opposite hand to take off the glasses. He took his time, almost teasing you before he finally shed himself of them. You inhaled sharply, almost dropping the glass of water.

He was gorgeous, drop-dead gorgeous. You’ve never seen such beautiful blue eyes, like the sky on a clear spring day. Even in the dark lighting, you could see how bright and beautiful they were. You set the glass of water down on the counter, then grabbed his head and pulled him closer to yours. His hair was as soft as it looked, and you spent a little more time running your hands through it than necessary. As you stared at his unfairly gorgeous face (seriously, how in the world did this man win the genetics lottery like this!), you felt his face warm up. Ah, he was very cute when he blushed.

He pulled back his head and replaced his glasses. He was obviously flustered as he looked away. He coughed, trying to compose himself, then said, “I’ve never had a woman be so forward with me.”

You laughed again at his antics. He was so suave when you first spoke to you and now he was blushing like a schoolgirl trying to confess. It was adorable.

“Oh, really?” you purred, running a finger across his jawline. You felt emboldened, seeing his reaction to just being pulled close to you. “You’re very handsome; I would expect all the men and women to be throwing themselves at you.”

You were never this forward sober, all the newfound confidence swirling within you as you leaned forward and chastely gave the man a kiss on the corner of his lips. You stumbled back and he quickly grabbed your arms to stabilize you.

He checked his expensive watch for the time. “I think it’s about time to leave. My car is in the back. I’ll take you home.” He helped you up out of the seat. You leaned on him the entire time he paid for both of your drinks. You seemed to fit perfectly onto his side, like a puzzle piece. Or maybe he was just freakishly tall.

The bartender gave the mystery man a look but didn’t say anything as he handed back the credit card and receipt. The man pocketed them both in his front pockets and began dragging you through the door.

You tried matching your steps to his, but with how tall he was and how drunk you are, you mostly leaned on him and as he held onto your shoulders. You gripped the front of his shirt, pleasantly surprised by the solid muscles underneath. You giggled like a schoolgirl to yourself thinking about him minus the shirt.

Eventually, you made it to his car. It was obviously expensive, a foreign brand you didn’t recognize, and probably about two or three years’ worth of your previous salary. The man helped you into the passenger’s seat, buckling your seatbelt for you.

He sat in the driver’s seat and handed over his phone with an open GPS app. “Put in your address and I’ll get you there.” You obeyed, handing the phone back to him. He then put it on a stand on the dash and pressed start.

Under normal circumstances, you would never get in the car of a man you (still) don’t know the name of, let alone give him your address so that he could freely visit. You just couldn’t tell if a guy had pure intentions or not. For all you knew, this was some elaborate ploy and you were in danger.

But for some reason, maybe it was because you were too drunk to care, you felt like you could trust this mystery man.

The vehicle was warm, and suddenly you felt sleepy. A little nap before arriving at your place wouldn’t hurt, would it? And so, you closed your eyes and let the soft lull of the radio put you to sleep.

When you opened your eyes, your throat was parched. You sat up, groaning. There was a reason you almost always declined dinners with your coworkers where you knew there would be drinking; you were embarrassingly a lightweight who couldn’t hold her liquor at all, as evident by the headache from only two glasses of whiskey.

You rubbed your eyes of sleep, blinking a few times to wake up more. There was a warm blanket wrapped around you, but you didn’t recognize it as one of yours. You blinked a few times. The room you were in was completely dark. You frantically patted your pockets for your phone, finding it where you normally keep it. The bright glow of your phone was nearly blinding, taking a few seconds to get used to before you glanced at the time. Only 1:30 am. Not bad, considering you arrived at the bar around 9 pm.

The bar… Mystery man …

You turned on the flashlight and checked your surroundings. This wasn’t your blanket, nor your couch, nor your living room. This wasn’t your apartment. You panicked, double-checking that you still had clothes on. Okay, whew. Nothing must have happened last night.

You heard groaning from the other side of the room. “If I would’ve known you would wake up swinging a flashlight everywhere I would’ve fallen asleep in my bedroom.” That must be the mystery man.

You swung your phone’s flashlight over to where you heard his voice, apologizing profusely when it shined in his eyes. He had changed clothes, now in a pair of sweatpants and a loose black shirt. He rubbed his eyes, then got up and turned on the lights. He was without his sunglasses, so his eyes shone bright, almost as bright as the lights.

Looking around, he was obviously rich from not only the size of his apartment but also how it was decorated, if it wasn’t so obvious before from the way he dressed and walked. That only led you to wonder: why were you here?

“You fell asleep before we got to your place,” he answered, almost like he was reading your mind. He yawned, loudly and obnoxiously. “I couldn’t wake you up for you to tell me which apartment was yours so here you are. Welcome to my place.” He walked into the kitchen connected to the living room, grabbing the sunglasses of the counter and putting them on. You wondered why he wore them inside. Maybe he suffered from migraines?

He opened a cabinet and grabbed a large cup, filling it full with water. He walked back and handed it to you. You accepted it gratefully and emptied the glass just as he entered the kitchen again.

“In the mood to eat anything in particular?” He asked, reaching for an apron off of a hook on the wall. He tied it away from you, grabbing a pan from another cabinet and turning the stove on low. He turned around to grab ingredients from the refrigerator. You let out a laugh at his apron that read “Mr. Good Lookin’ is Cookin’.”

You entered the kitchen yourself, bringing the empty glass with you. After filling up on water, your headache was already mostly gone. You sat the glass down on the counter, leaning over the island and resting your cheek on your hand. “Whatever you want to cook I’ll take some as well.”

He grinned giddily like he already had a recipe in mind to cook. Now that you were sober and in better lighting, he was much better looking than you had thought before. As he smiled, there was a tiny dimple on his left cheek. His hair was messy but it added to his charm. He was hard at work, cracking eggs into the pan and scrambling them.

Mystery man was handsome and obviously had experience in the kitchen. He was considerate and much more caring than your ex-boyfriend could ever be. Your mind wandered to where else he may have experience. Perhaps, the bedroom…

You blushed, trying to expel the images of the two of you from your brain. This was not the time to be fantasizing, as a very attractive man cooked you food. Instead, you decided to engage in some small talk. For example, learning what this man’s name was.

“So,” you began, “Mr. Mystery Man, do you have a name?”

He turned around, lifting the eggs off the stove so they didn’t burn with him. “Mr. Mystery Man, huh?” he grinned again. You felt your heart skip a beat. “Gojo Satoru. I feel we’ve had a bit of a heart-to-heart, a deep connection, so I’ll give you the privilege of calling me ‘Satoru’.”

You didn’t feel like the two of you had that much of a heart-to-heart, more like you were just complaining about your shitty life while he listened. But you could agree that there was chemistry, quite the connection between the two of you. You weren’t quite sure why a man like him would feel a pull toward a girl like you, but who were you to complain when Lady Luck was introducing a handsome stranger into your life?

After giving him your name (along with returning the favor to call you by your first name as well), you started asking more questions as he cooked food for the both of you. What did he do for a living (he was a high school teacher), what his favorite color was (black), was his hair natural or dyed (“Would you like to check?” he smirked, as you blushed because yes, you would like to check).

Eventually, you ran out of questions to ask. Satoru freely gave responses, but they were vague enough that you could tell there were things he was purposefully leaving out. That was fine with you; the two of you were technically still strangers and you didn’t expect him to open up with everything immediately. Perhaps, as you got to know him more, he would open up about the omitted information.

As you got to know him more…

You were already moving way too fast in your brain. Next thing you know, you’ll be hearing wedding bells and imagining the two of you with mini carbon copies of Satoru running around…

Satoru put the finishing touches on the plate, then set them in front of you. He prepared omurice, and skillfully at that. He sliced the omelet down the middle. You watched mesmerized as the contents spilled over the bed of rice.

Immediately, your stomach growled. You grabbed the spoon he set down and said a quick “Itadakimasu” before digging in, not even bothering to sit down. Satoru bumped his left elbow into you as you were about to place the first bite into your mouth, knocking the spoonful of egg and rice off before you could get a taste of the delicacy. You whipped your head up to glare him down, but he just burst into laughter and all was forgiven. He was cute when he laughed, the tiny dimple becoming more prominent.

You scooped the food back onto your spoon and shoved it into your mouth. Immediately, your taste buds danced. The egg was so fluffy, the rice perfectly cooked, the sauce perfectly harmonizing with both. It was delicious, quite possibly the best omurice you’ve ever had in your life. You looked up at Satoru and exclaimed, “Delicious!”

He chuckled at your enthusiasm. “I’m glad you like it. They say the way to a man’s heart is through his stomach but I think it works equally well for the ladies.” Satoru winked and your heart skipped a beat. God, he was just too good looking.

You shoveled the rest of the omurice into your mouth. Between the food and the glass of water you were completely awake and sober. You finished your meal before Satoru. Before you could grab your plate to place it in the sink to be washed, Satoru stopped you. He leaned down and placed a kiss on the side of your mouth, his tongue darting out to claim a lone grain of rice left over from your meal. You felt your face heat up immediately, quickly turning around away from him and covering your face with your hands.

“You’re cute when you’re shy,” Satoru teased, placing the last bite of his omurice in his mouth. He grabbed both of your plates and placed them in the sink with the rest of the mess he made from cooking. He turned on the faucet to fill up the sink.

“Oh, hush,” you replied, now beside him to help with the dishes. “Anyone would be embarrassed by that.” You grabbed the first plate and began scrubbing it clean. Satoru ripped it from your hands, holding it high above your head so you couldn’t grab it back.

“No guest of mine will be doing dishes,” he stated.

“You paid for my drinks, let me sleep on your couch, wasn’t a weirdo about it, and cooked me food,” you retorted, then began climbing onto his counter and snatched the plate back from him. You carefully slipped down. “The least I could do is help you with the dishes.”

“There’s something else you could do instead,” he whispered seductively into your ear, nibbling softly on your lobe. Your face heated up yet again, but you weren’t going to let him win this round.

“Yeah? And what would that be?” you purred back, keeping his head in place and trailing your mouth down his neck, leaving a soft kiss on his collarbone. You heard him suck in a breath of air. As you stepped back, you looked up to stare at Satoru’s beautiful blue eyes. On his face was a light dusting of pink. Cute.

Satoru slipped the plate out of your hands once again, placing it in the sink. He began leaning down to your height, staring at your lips longingly. “May I kiss you?”

You bit your bottom lip, then nodded. Before you could even finish your nod, Satoru’s lips were pressed firmly on yours. Immediately, you wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him closer to you. Oh, god, this is what you wanted ever since he walked over to where you were sitting.

The two of you took things to the bedroom. After a few rounds, you were exhausted. You changed into a set of clothes offered by Satoru, then got into bed with him.

Not only were the blankets on top of you incredibly warm, but so was the heat radiating from Satoru beside you. Suddenly, all the events from the day caught up with you, your body completely exhausted.

“Can I hold you?” Satoru asked.

You mumbled an agreement sleepily. Satoru’s arms snaked around you, enveloping you in a safe warmth as you drifted fully to sleep.

When you woke up, the bed was cold and empty. It took you a few minutes to wake your brain up, remembering the events from last night. Embarrassed, you covered your face with your hands. Oh my god. You fucked a guy you just met, and spent the night at his house. What the fuck.

“Oh, good. You’re awake,” a cheeky voice called from the doorway. You looked up, cheeks still red, and saw Satoru with his hair tousled and the apron he wore last night on with a spatula in his hand. “I have breakfast ready. Do you drink coffee? How do you like it?”

“Sugar and cream,” you replied. “Heavy sugar, light cream.”

Satoru fake gasped and clutched his chest. “A woman after my own heart. That’s how I drink mine too. I tossed your clothes from last night in the washer. You’re free to leave when they’re done in the dryer. Free of charge, though I won’t resist you leaving me your number as payment.” He winked, then left the room back to the kitchen.

You headed to the bathroom to freshen up. As you turned the light on, you finally got a good look at your and god you were a mess. Your neck was covered in hickeys, the dark lovebites trailing to your shoulders and down to your chest. You didn’t check, but you were sure there was plenty on your stomach as well. Going to the bathroom allowed you to inspect just how many hickeys were also left on your thighs and well. It wasn’t any better than your neck.

You hoped the weather wasn’t going to be hot the next few days because there was no way you would be leaving your house without a scarf and pants on.

After you were done in the bathroom, you joined Satoru in the kitchen. It smelled amazing; he cooked a wonderful breakfast of rice, eggs, fish, and steamed veggies. If you hadn’t met Satoru yesterday, you probably would’ve just proposed to him. He was a total catch and you hoped you could see him more after this.

Breakfast was quiet, which you didn’t mind. You hardly slept last night; though what little you did sleep was the best sleep you’ve had in quite possibly years. After breakfast, you exchanged numbers with Satoru. There was absolutely no way you would just part ways with him and that was the end of… whatever this is.

Just as the two of you finished up dishes together (a surprisingly messy endeavor leading to a water fight and yet another makeout session that unfortunately did not lead to more sex), the dryer beeped, indicating your clothes were ready.

You changed quickly and settled on the couch with Satoru. It was awkward, because you both knew you were wanting explanation about what the hell interrupted your fucking last night.

“So…” Satoru started. “I suppose you want an explanation.”

“That would be appreciated.”

“I guess I’ll start at the beginning.”

Satoru explained to you about the world of curses and sorcerers, the school he taught at currently, as well as his current students. It seemed almost impossible to believe, had you not witnessed what you did last. He didn’t go into extensive detail, but you would be sure to ask him more later, especially if this chemistry expanded to something more.

“Thank you for telling me,” you told him after he was finished. You checked your phone for the time. “Shit! I need to leave.” You gathered the rest of your things as Satoru grabbed his car keys. He led you to his vehicle (which was very nice, now that you were in it sober) and plugged in the address you gave him last night.

After arriving just outside your apartment, Satoru bid you goodbye.

“Don’t forget, you can text me anytime. I don’t mind. Especially if you wanna meet up like we did last night again.” He winked.

You felt your face redden, but promised to text him later. You headed to your apartment, unlocking the door with your keys. Before you headed in, you waved back at Satoru’s vehicle, watching him leave after making sure you got in safely. The gesture warmed your heart.

You were immediately greeted to an empty and cold apartment. You sighed and kicked off your shoes, then collapsed on the couch. Goodbye, moment of peace and happiness; hello loneliness and stress of being unemployed.

You needed to send in job applications ASAP, but that was a problem for tomorrow as sleep overcame you.

#gojo satoru x reader #gojo x reader #gojo satoru #jjk x reader #jjk #jujutsu kaisen

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wonlouvre · 3 years

Note

hi!! i absolutely love your writing and so when i saw your requests were open, i didn't want to miss the chance 🤧

i'm a total sucker for your fluff writing like A LOT and i was hoping if we could get jeonghan x reader where they're newlyweds? thank you 💛🥺

Seungkwan's Gift

pairing: non-idol!jeonghan x gn!reader genre: newlyweds, fluff warnings: none! word count: 990

💌: thank you so much for loving my fluff writing 😭🤧 i hope you enjoy this! requests are open, just click this link!

For such a small wedding, you can't believe the mountains of gifts that you and Jeonghan received from your family and friends. You don’t even know where to start and with your husband's nature of procrastination, it’s going to take you a long time to discover what’s covered by the colorful wrappers.

But you have to start somewhere so ignoring your husband's pleas to just have a quiet morning, you ask him to pick one to open.

“How about we start with Seungkwan’s?” Jeonghan suggests, lazily sipping on his hot brewed coffee. “It looks like a jar, don’t you think so?”

You sigh and scratch your neck in contemplation. You give your dearest friend’s gift an observation and you know what, Jeonghan might be onto something. It’s not just any ordinary mason glass jar. It’s actually pretty big, like you can put candies and other treats. The shape is also similar to the typical swear jars you see from watching reality shows.

You purse your lips and clap your hands. “Alright, let’s start with Seungkwan’s jar.”

You pick it up with ease and you’re surprised that it’s lightweight. Afterwards, you take the space beside your husband on the couch who’s about to fall asleep again unless you nudge him from his daze.

He chuckles nonchalantly and embraces your waist with one of his arms.

“It’s so light,” you describe as you rip the wrapper apart. “Maybe it’s just air? Or you know, those little colorful stars project during elementary school?”

Jeonghan just agrees with your deducting abilities, finding it endearing. If you’re like this over one gift among the hundreds, it will take you weeks or maybe even months. He doesn’t see a problem though. He won’t mind you investigating these wedding gifts as long as he gets to hold you like this.

“Oh!” You exclaim once it’s naked from the paper material. But your reaction is short-lived as you further examine the contents inside. “Eh? Are these papers?”

Jeonghan leans for a closer look, his interest piqued. “Letters, maybe?”

“Seungkwan already cried so much when he talked to us after the wedding,” you remind him with a roll of your eyes. “Why would he write us thousands of letters?”

Jeonghan also dramatically rolls his eyes at you. “Then open one.”

“Okay,” you say but not before placating his frown with a kiss on the cheek. You hold the lid and twist it open then pull one of the folded papers out.

What did your first kiss with your spouse feel like?

You burst out laughing once you finally read what’s written on the paper. You show it to your confused husband and he laughs along in both amusement and disbelief.

“What is this?” You ask and pick another one but Jeonghan stops you before you can open it. “What?”

“Answer the question first,” he says and take the jar from your hold.

“Of course it felt good,” you tell him what he wants but not meet his eyes.

“Eyyy,” he teases and pinches the tip of your nose. “I’m sure it was more than good.”

“Shut up.” You push his hand away and he lets you be.

“I have to say, your lips locked with mine felt good too so we’re on the same page.”

You can’t believe you married this man, but that’s not the point right now. You wait for him to pick the next question this time and once again, it cracks the two of you up.

What is the strangest gift your spouse ever bought for you?

“Do you remember the silver utensil set you bought me?” Jeonghan asks, tears from laughing too much lining his eyes. “You were so annoyed whenever I accidentally brought your spoon or fork to my apartment you had to buy me a set.”

You try to catch your breath but the reminder makes you fail.

“You gave me a pet rock, Jeonghan,” you fight back in between the laughter. “I don’t think a set of utensils is stranger than that.”

“Excuse me,” he says, offended. “You kept that pet rock like a child and even bought more accessories.”

“Well, you brought the unopened box of utensils you’re complaining about here, wanting to show it to your future children.”

“I wasn’t complaining about it,” he defends himself and childishly pushes you. “I was asking if you remember because I treasure it the most.”

Your heart skips a beat but you don’t tell him that and just snatch the jar from him.

“Anyway, last question for today because I want to shower now,” you say and Jeonghan nods mischievously, definitely plotting something.

When did you know that you one hundred percent wanted to marry them?

Jeonghan puts a hand on his nape, suddenly shy about the question. You stare at him, who’s avoiding your eyes. You laugh and shake your head.

“Should I recite my vows again?” Jeonghan jokes and takes the jar away from you, placing it on the center table.

You snuggle close to him, hugging his waist and resting your face on the crook of his neck. “For me, it was when you exchanged your shoes for Hoshi when you noticed his feet were bleeding.”

Jeonghan pulls a face in bewilderment and you just give him a look, telling him you’re dead serious.

“It was your selflessness and sacrifice, okay?”

“I didn’t know that.” He accepts your answer and hugs you tighter. “I knew I wanted to marry you during that one time we were arguing and you were stubbornly asserting your point.”

Now you’re the one looking at him incredulously. He just laughs at your reaction and kisses your forehead.

“What does that supposed to mean?”

“It means you never give up on me even though I get annoying,”

“Huh?” You ask again but he just pulls you closer again.

“Shhh. Let’s nap for now,” he says, closing his eyes. “Those first three questions made me tired.”

---

if you want to request, please click this link! <3

#seventeen #jeonghan #yoon jeonghan #seventeen scenarios #jeonghan scenarios #seventeen fluff #jeonghan fluff #seventeen fanfic #jeonghan fanfic #seventeen imagines #jeonghan imagines #seventeen scenario #jeonghan scenario #seventeen imagine #jeonghan imagine #jeonghan seventeen #seventeen jeonghan #svt #fic: seungkwan's gift

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twistedlymad · 4 years

Note

I almost forgot, can you please also do a story where the MC (fem reader) finally attends her first dorm leaders meeting. Will it go smoothly or end in a disaster. Once again thank you and stay safe.

I would like to say, nothing will ever go smoothly in my stories, so, expect chaos at every corner :)

And also, I have read a few stories regarding dorm leader meetings here and they’re all so wonderful! So, I decided to make this an online dorm leader meeting!

Anyway, I do hope this story lives up to your expectations! Thank you for requesting and have a lovely day!

What if you had a dorm leader meeting? (Ft. Riddle, Leona, Azul, Kalim, Vil, Idia, Malleus, Ace, Deuce, Sebek, Epel, Jack and Grim) (Lilia, Silver, Jamil and Trey are mentioned)

“Tonight, we will be having our dorm leader meeting online!” Headmaster Crowley said to you while you were on your way back to Ramshackle Dorm.

“Okay, but why are you telling me this?” You questioned.

“Ah… You didn’t know?” The latter responded and you shrugged your shoulders.

“Know what?”

“A-Ah… It must’ve slipped my mind. Well, the other dorm leaders want you to join since you are considered a dorm leader.” You froze when he said those words.

“Do… Do I need to prepare anything?” You asked, hoping with the little time you had left you can prepare the needed inventories.

“Nope, just, be online by 8 o’clock later!” With that, the headmaster had left you and your bag of groceries in the corridor.

“Huh… Dorm leader meeting eh?” You said to yourself and made your way back to your Ramshackle Dorm.

“Grim! I’m back!” You yelled as you closed the door behind you. A small furball can be seen running towards you and leaping to you.

“(Y/N)!!!” The furball said and you caught him in your arms.

“Woah! Careful! I’ve never seen you this clingy.” You said, laughing and Grim just looked at you with the biggest puppy eyes one could muster.

“Did you get it?” Grim asked and you just sighed.

“Yes. No wonder you leaped at me.” You said, reaching in your plastic bag and pulling out two cans of Tuna.

“Yippeeee!! Thanks (Y/N), you’re the best!” Said Grim, running off with the two cans of Tuna.

You just laughed and shook your head. You proceeded to go to the kitchen and set and sort all your groceries. After doing so, you saw that it was already 8 o’clock.

“Ah! The meeting!!” You remembered and quickly ran to your room. Of course, Grim was already in your room, eating his Tuna.

“Alright, Grim, I’m going to need you to be silent for awhile. I’m having a meeting.” You said to the furball and got a ‘fgnaaa’ of confirmation.

You set up your laptop and checked your inbox. Surely enough, there was a link sent by the headmaster. You checked yourself in the mirror to make sure your clothes and hair isn’t messy before clicking on the link.

“Ah!! (Y/N)!!” A voice called to you when you arrived at the virtual meeting room. You had your camera off but your microphone was on.

“Good evening Headmaster Crowley.” You said and were greeted by an enlarged Crowley’s face filling up your screen. You giggled at the sight. The headmaster finally sat back down in his chair and not fill up the entire screen with his face. Multiple notifications can be heard from the headmaster’s end.

“Ah, it seems everyone else is here.” Crowley said and let everyone else in as you muted yourself.

Once he did though…

The seven dorm leaders had come online with their cameras on. Well, all seven except Idia who only had his microphone on.

“Riddle, anything else?” Trey asked Heartslabyul’s dorm leader.

“No, the tea and dessert is fine. Thank you Trey.” Riddle said to his vice-dorm leader. Trey then left the room.

“Uwahhh! Riddle, you have dessert? Jamil! I want some too!” Said Scarabia’s dorm leader.

“No Kalim. You just had dessert, you can’t have any more.” Jamil said as he took his leave.

“Pooey.” Kalim pouted.

“You know, I could probably get you a deal that gives you unlimited desserts at Mostro Lounge.” Octavinelle’s dorm leader said to Kalim. The latter’s eyes sparkled.

“Really?!”

“Oh, Kalim, you potato, don’t trust Azul that easily.” Said Pomefiore’s dorm leader with a small mirror in hand.

“So, how do I do this?” Malleus asked Lilia, Silver and Sebek who were right beside him.

“Just, don’t press anything, me and Silver already set it up nicely for you.” Lilia said as he left the room with Silver and Sebek in tow.

You giggled to yourself as you saw everyone on your screen with their usual chaos.

“Alright, alright, that’s enough everyone. Now, welcome to our weekly dorm leader meeting! Only this time, we have decided to have the meeting online!” Crowley boomed.

“Right, forgive me for asking but, why can’t we have our meeting at the usual place?” Azul asked.

“Don’t you remember? Some students were playing magift when all of a sudden their magic accidentally hit our room, causing the whole place to be ruined.” Idia replied.

“Yes, the students were the first-years. I made my first-years write a 1000-word apology as punishment.” Said Riddle, taking a sip from his teacup.

“Hmph, I made Jack clean the dishes for Savanaclaw for 2 weeks.” Said Leona.

“I had Lilia take care of Sebek’s punishment.” Said Malleus.

“I made Epel wear a mask before sleeping for a month.” Said Vil.

You winced at everyone’s punishments as you remembered seeing your friends all looking pale and mumbling incoherently. All you could make out from their mumblings were ‘1000 words, he’s crazy…’, ‘my hands are going to die…’, ‘Lilia-senpai won’t leave me alone…’ and ‘stupid Vil, stupid mask, stupid beauty rules…’.

“Isn’t that what your dorm members usually do?” Kalim asked Vil.

“Yes, but he doesn’t do it from time to time, so as punishment, I made sure he did it every night.” Vil replied, checking his face in the mirror.

“Pfft, sissies.” Leona said with his eyes closed.

“You got a problem pussycat?” Said a slightly annoyed Vil, putting down his mirror.

“What did you call me?” A growl can be heard as well as a scowl can be seen on Leona’s face.

“Now, now everyone! Stop fighting!” And Crowley comes in and saves the day. “Please, we’re here today to have a meeting, not an online brawl.” The headmaster continued, until Idia cut him off.

“Sorry to interrupt Headmaster, but, why are there 9 of us?” That’s when all the dorm leaders noticed.

“Yes, if counting all 7 of us plus Headmaster, there should only be 8 of us. So, who’s the plus one?” Azul asked. Crowley just gave them a smile.

“Well, plus one, introduce yourself.” The headmaster said to you. You let out a small sigh, before turning on your mic.

“Hello everyone, I’m (Y/N) (L/N) and I will be joining today’s meeting!” You said to them as you could see visible shock on their faces. Kalim was the first to overcome the shock and greeted you back.

“(Y/N)!!! I’ve missed you!!!” Kalim yelled into the mic.

“Yes, (L/N)-san decided to join us today for this meeting as requested by all of you during our last meeting.” Crowley said. “Now, can we officially start our meeting?” Asked the headmaster and everyone agreed.

“So, first of all…” Crowley decided to start off the meeting.

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

You did not understand anything at all.

‘Why is it so chaotic?’

‘Were all meetings like this?’

‘Was this normal?’

You thought to yourself as you looked at your screen only to see Vil and Leona in a very VERY heated argument, Kalim laughing himself to death, Idia just went silent, Malleus looking confused, Riddle and Azul were trying to break up the two dorm leaders who were arguing but they roasted while doing so and are on the verge of tears,

And Crowley?

Crowley straight up gave up.

What happened you ask?

Well it was pretty simple.

When Crowley said that you all should take a 5-minute break before continuing your discussion. You let out a small yawn and gathered up your papers, pilling them up nicely. When your eyes looked back at the screen, you noticed 6 of the dorm leaders were controlling their laughter. You were confused until your eyes landed on Leona’s video.

Apparently, he had forgotten to turn off his camera when he stood up to get his water which was located on a table behind him.

Sure, it wasn’t a problem at all…

If he didn’t forget the fact that he did not put on any pants.

So, a pair of pink, cat-themed underwear is shown on everyone’s screen.

“Say, pussycat, I didn’t know you were a real cat lover.” Vil said, trying his best to compress his laughter.

Leona immediately turned around, almost wanting to fire back at Pomefiore’s dorm leader when he realized what he was referring to. The lion turned red and immediately covered himself by squatting down so the camera couldn’t see his lower half and slowly made his way back to his chair.

Once he did, he fired back at Vil by saying the following words:

“You messed with the wrong lion, sissy.”

And he started to share his screen to everyone. Once he did though, a video of Vil singing and dancing to ‘Dancing Queen’ played, leaving Vil in utter shock as everyone stifled their laughter.

“hoW?! HOW DID YOU GET THIS?!” Vil asked furiously. Leona just shot back a smirk.

“Oh, I have my ways…” The lion said as the video had finished playing.

“Why you little-“

“Leona, Vil, that’s enough.” Riddle had spoken. You sighed internally, glad that this chaos would end.

Oh, how wrong you were.

“Shut up shortie!”

“Stay out of this you tart-lover!”

Riddle was clearly in shock. His face began to redden with anger but he couldn’t fire any insults back. He didn’t know what to say. Nothing he said would hurt the two arguing dorm leaders in any way.

“Leona, Vil, I don’t advise you to-“ Azul spoke up until…

“Octo-punk, shut it!”

“This is none of your business, four eyes!”

So, now, you’ve got two dorm leaders who were at the brink of having a meltdown and two fierce dorm leaders shoving insults in each other’s faces. Kalim was laughing with tears almost coming out of his eyes, Idia had already begun to laugh uncontrollably when he saw Leona’s pink underwear. And then there was Malleus.

Tsunotaro looked absolutely dumbfounded. He didn’t know what was happening nor why was this happening because he just came back from the 5-minute break.

Let’s not forget about you. Oh, poor you.

You facepalmed. HARD. Aren’t dorm leaders supposed to show good examples? Aren’t dorm leaders supposed to have the basic necessities to become a leader in the first place?

Aren’t dorm leaders supposed to NOT have petty fights and NOT INSULT one another?

It wasn’t a wonder why the students were so… So chaotic. If, the dorm leaders themselves were this chaotic as well.

You looked down and rubbed your temples as you tried to think of a way to calm everyone down.

“Seriously you guys, I love you guys and all but this is absolutely twistedly mad.” You said to yourself. (Hi, I am very subtle with my name yes? :’) )

Or so you thought.

Suddenly, silence filled your room. You were confused, weren’t they all just arguing, breaking down and laughing uncontrollably just a second ago?

You looked up to your screen to see 6 faces looking at their screens, a slight blush appearing on everyone’s faces.

“Oya? (Y/N) loves us?” Malleus asked, a smirk on his face.

Then, realization hits you like a bus. Your microphone was on the entire time.

They had heard what you said a moment ago.

“Um… GOTTAGOBAI.” You said and logged off.

Well, you tried to.

You see, when the arguing occurred, Grim was sleeping peacefully on the table beside your laptop. You petted him from time to time and expected him to sleep through the night until the next morning, after all, he looked so deep in slumber.

But he woke up and he crawled onto your laptop.

“Yanno, what time is it (Y/N)?” Grim asked as he crawled on your keyboard.

“Grim, no! That’s the video-“ Grim had accidentally pushed down the button.

“-button.” And your camera was on, showing everyone your face. Your… cute face!! Add on your small blush and you have the most adorable face hands down.

And your outfit. Oh, your outfit! You didn’t think you would go on camera, so you just put on an oversized shirt, short shorts and called it an outfit.

To think someone this cute had semi-confessed their feelings for the dorm leaders.

So, now, with the combination of your cute, semi-blushing face and cute outfit, the dorm leaders’ blushes had darken.

“Well, would you look at the time? Our meeting has ended, so see ya!” You quickly said and closed your laptop. You let out a sigh and looked at Grim, who was on your bed, sleeping again. You smiled, pet him a little more and went to bed yourself.

It took all your willpower to not blush the next day when you saw each and every dorm head.

But of course, things changed.

The dorm leaders would follow you around school each day, making your friends look at you in confusion.

“When did Dorm Leader Rosehearts get so close to (Y/N)?” Deuce asked his friends as he saw you talking with Riddle.

“Beats me! Vil also has been sticking around with (Y/N) a lot! From giving her masks as a gift to straight up giving her stylish clothes.” Epel replied.

“Leona-senpai too… Ruggie-senpai had sent me to get him for his classes while he was napping but when I found him, he was already walking with (Y/N)!” Said Jack.

“Malleus-sama had also been hanging around (Y/N) lately. Every time I go search for him, he can always be found beside (Y/N).” Sebek also expressed the changes he saw in his own dorm leader/young master.

“Guys, guys, is this what I think it is?” Ace asked his friends. They turned to look at him confused.

“Don’t you see? They’re trying to steal (Y/N) away from us! Her friends!” Ace concluded to them.

“Nah, I don’t think they would do this… Right?” Deuce started to question alongside his friends.

And so, you were left with 7 clingy dorm leaders and an additional 5 clingy best friends. All of them, wanting you to themselves. You might find yourself overwhelmed from time to time, but hey! You’ve got a bunch perfect boys looking after you and making sure you’re okay 24/7.

Lucky you ~

*Bonus!*

“And so, that is why we must enhance our defenses to our dorms if anything ever happens again.” Azul concluded and the dorm leaders nodded.

Your eyes were glued on the screen when all of a sudden Malleus’ video had turned off. You noticed this and were quick to inform him on it.

“Malleus-senpai, your video turned off.” You said.

“A-Ah? Really? But I could still see everyone?” Malleus said back.

“No, Malleus, (Y/N) meant that your camera had turned off.” Vil said to Diasomnia’s Dorm Leader.

“Alright, so, what do I press to turn it back on?” Asked Malleus.

“The button with the camera icon on it.” Riddle replied calmly.

“Alright... So, all I have to do i-” Malleus was cut off.

He... He accidentally logged out. Everyone stayed silent, not knowing what to do. No, wait, not everyone. Idia was laughing uncontrollably.

It wasn’t long before Crowley received a notification saying someone wants to join the online meeting.

“Ah, Draconia-san is coming back in again.” Said Crowley.

“Welcome back Dra- Vanrouge-san?” Crowley asked, shocked to see Lilia’s face on the screen.

“Good evening everyone. Sorry for the inconvenience.” Lilia said as he moved away to reveal Silver and Sebek trying calm down a Malleus who was on the brink of having a panic attack.

“I... I don’t know what happened!” Malleus said as Silver and Sebek tried to comfort their young master.

“Is... Is he going to be okay?” You asked.

“Oh yeah, he’s fine.” Lilia replied and everyone had spent a good 5 minutes trying to calm Malleus and refrain him from using any offensive magic that would potentially ruin his entire dorm.

3K notes · View notes

organabanana · 3 years

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What spring does to cherry trees || Supercorp

Chapters: 1/1

Fandom: Supergirl (TV 2015)

Rating: Explicit

Warnings: None

Relationships: Kara Danvers/Lena Luthor

Characters: Kara Danvers, Lena Luthor

Additional Tags: mostly fluff, with some porn for flair, pre-canon, but also, post-canon, tooth-rotting fluff.

Summary: I want to do with you what spring does to cherry trees. What does that even mean? It's taking a simple I love you and putting lead-lined glasses on it to keep its power contained. No offense, Mr. Neruda, but that's just weak. Kara doesn't like poetry. Until she does.

Notes: Written for a very patient anon who prompted me with “Seeing the cherry blossoms in Washington DC” but I got sidetracked by Neruda and my favorite of his poems and it turned into This. It's poem number fourteen, found in "Veinte poemas de amor y una canción desesperada" (Twenty love poems and a song of despair) by Pablo Neruda, which you can read here (Spanish) or here (English). I mostly translated the lines I needed myself, so I can't guarantee they'll match the official translation (I'm also not sure there is such a thing as an official translation, so there's that). With special thanks to the most patient anon in history for the prompt, to @lavenderrry for praising my vibes, and to @emiltons for the gorgeous graphic.

[ao3 link]

The first time Kara encounters Neruda's poetry she's nineteen and bored. In her defense, she thought taking a poetry class would make her feel sophisticated and cultured, but all she feels is annoyed at the insistence of using language to obscure your message rather than share it.

And yes, yes, she gets it. It all sounds very pretty and evocative. It's just Kara has been hiding her true self in plain sight for the last six years, and she can't understand why anyone would willingly and needlessly do that to themselves. To their feelings. She may never have been in love, but Kara is pretty sure if she ever is -- if her heart ever feels full to the brim with the kind of big feelings her professor keeps making them read in metaphors and symbolism -- she'll want to make them clear as day.

I want to do with you what spring does to cherry trees.

What does that even mean?

It's taking a simple I love you and putting lead-lined glasses on it to keep its power contained.

No offense, Mr. Neruda, but that's just weak.

***

Kara doesn't take any more poetry classes, and she doesn't think of Neruda (or any other poet, for that matter) for years. She has so many other things to think about. She moves to National City and starts working for Ms. Grant. She grows into herself, she thinks. She becomes Supergirl and feels more like herself than she has since her pod left Krypton. She dates, a little bit. Dips her toe in the dating pool, if you will. She meets Lena Luthor.

And that's the second time she runs into Neruda. Right there on a shelf in Lena's living room, on a book that looks well loved and well read, spine full of small cracks and lines from being opened over and over again. Kara has always thought you can tell a lot about a person by looking at their shelves.

"Pablo Neruda," Kara says, one finger tracing a line down the spine of the book like she's trying to read something in the pattern of the cracks, "I didn't know you liked poetry."

"I don't dislike it." Lena's heels click-clack on the hardwood floor before she sets the bottle of wine and two glasses on the coffee table and sits on the couch. "Have you made up your mind on what we're going to watch?"

Kara can hear the faint electrical hum of the TV being turned on, but she's a bit too distracted by the book to focus on deciding whether tonight is a night for a romantic comedy or an epic drama. She couldn't say exactly why this book feels important. It just does. Maybe it's because Lena keeps so much of herself hidden somewhere not even Kara's X-Ray vision can reach, and finding little clues about her thoughts and feelings feels a lot like she's struck gold.

Yeah. Maybe that's why.

Her fascination with the book only grows when she pulls it out of the shelf only to find the title written in Spanish. "Veinte poemas de amor--"

"And a song of despair," Lena finishes in English. "Atonement? I've heard good things about it."

"No way. I said I could be persuaded to watch a tear jerker, but I did not sign up for actual depression." Kara brings the book along when she walks over to sit down next to Lena. She's so focused on the book, still, that she miscalculates her landing just by an inch or so and her thigh bumps against Lena's as she settles on the couch. But Lena doesn't move away, and Kara figures there's no reason why she should. They're friends, after all. Close friends. Figuratively and now very, very literally close.

"I didn't know you spoke Spanish." Kara speaks again, breaking the silence before it solidifies into something potentially awkward.

"I don't. It's a bilingual edition. Can we please pick a movie?"

Kara would love to do exactly what Lena wants. In fact, giving Lena everything she wants has become sort of a constant in this fledgling friendship between them. It just feels nice, you know? Giving her what she wants and making her smile. But this book. It's all so very distracting.

"So. Do you prefer the twenty love poems, or the song of despair?"

Lena rolls her eyes, but she can't quite hide the amused smirk behind the glass when she sips her wine, so Kara knows she's not nearly as annoyed as she's trying to appear.

"What is it with you and Neruda? I didn't know you were a poetry fan."

Kara scoffs. "I'm not." She still remembers the feeling of relief washing over her when she saw her passing grade on that stupid course and realized she'd never have to read another line of poetry in her life. "I don't even like poetry. I'm just curious, that's all."

Lena cocks one eyebrow at her. Studies her, in a way that makes color rise to Kara's cheeks and has her wondering if Lena can see through people, too.

"Anyway!" Kara shakes her head like she's hoping that'll make the blush fade. "The love poems, or the song of despair?"

"The poems," Lena finally concedes, "and I'm very surprised you don't like poetry. You seem the type."

"What?" Kara is already thumbing through the edge of the book, trying to find the place where it'll open naturally and hopefully show her which of the twenty love poems Lena happens to like the most. "What does that even mean?"

"Well, you have a big heart. Big feelings." Lena looks into Kara's eyes like she's trying to read all those feelings right there in shades of blue, and Kara finds herself looking down at the book just in case. Just in case all those big feelings she can't even name herself are there for Lena to read. "Seems like a recipe for liking poetry."

Kara shakes her head and pushes her glasses up, just in case. Just in case the lead in them can shield more than just her powers. And just as she's about to argue -- just as she's about to tell Lena precisely why she doesn't like poetry -- she opens her book and her gaze lands on a familiar phrase.

"Quiero hacer contigo," she reads out loud from the page on the left, and her fingertip is already finding the next verse on the right when Lena finishes for her.

"What spring does to cherry trees."

If Kara was just Kara Danvers, she'd have missed it all. She'd have just heard her best friend speak a line from a poem that -- much like most poems -- means very little to her. But she's not just Kara Danvers. So Kara hears the way Lena's heart beats just a little bit faster. The way her breath catches just so. The exact fraction of a tone her voice drops when she speaks. The faintest hint of a sigh.

"See? This is why I don't like poetry." Kara chances a look into green eyes, and she's so very grateful Lena has no superhearing to tip her off to the way Kara's heart seems to trip all over itself. "'I want to do with you what spring does to cherry trees'. What does that mean?"

Kara swears -- she swears -- she catches Lena's pupils dilating just enough to make her think she knows exactly what the poem means.

"It's not about what it means, Kara. It's about what it makes you feel." Lena lets out a soft chuckle, something light and airy like this is just a silly little conversation with no weight to it at all. Like she can't feel the way the air itself seems to have changed into something new.

"Is it your favorite line?" Kara pretends she can't hear the way her own voice has changed, too.

Lena shakes her head. "No. My favorite is actually--"

Kara hears the DEO alarm before Lena's fingertip can make contact with the paper, and she almost considers ignoring it. She almost considers letting whatever danger is looming over this whole city have at it because finding out what's Lena's favorite line in her favorite poem seems far more important right now.

But of course, that would be crazy. Crazy! Kara would never.

"I'm so sorry, Lena, I--" Kara stands up, already hearing Alex's voice telling her where she's needed as she pulls her phone out of her pocket and pretends to read a text, "I have to go. I forgot I had this thing with--"

"Go." Lena's smile is just small enough to make Kara's heart twist in an uncomfortable way that's become familiar since she started lying to her friend. "Sounds important. I understand."

Kara nods, just once. "Tomorrow?"

Lena's smile doesn't grow, but it suddenly reaches her eyes, and something settles in Kara's chest. "Of course. Tomorrow."

Five hours later, foe defeated and safely locked away at the DEO, Supergirl touches down on Lena's balcony. There isn't a single light on inside the apartment, and Kara hesitates for a second by the sliding glass door. She shouldn't sneak into Lena's apartment in the middle of the night. That's a little creepy, right? Even if she knows Lena's said over and over again Kara's welcome any time.

It's just.

That book.

Lena's favorite line.

Kara may never be able to sleep again if she doesn't find out what it is.

So with a non-zero amount of shame at her own choice, Kara ends up sliding the door open and slipping into Lena's living space. She listens for Lena's breathing to make sure she's asleep, and once she's satisfied that's the case she makes a beeline for the shelf and the now-familiar book. It doesn't take her long to find the page she'd been reading before, and soon enough she's reading the lines Lena had been pointing to.

How you must have hurt getting used to me, to my savage, solitary soul, to my name that sends everyone running.

The words wrap around Kara's heart like a vice. If she could do it without blowing her cover and putting Lena in danger, she'd go in her room right now just to wake her up and tell her what Kara thinks about her soul. About her name, too, while she's at it. She'd tell her everyone else is free to run if they want, but Kara isn't going anywhere.

But she can't do any of those things.

***

The two lines stay with Kara, sort of swirling under the surface of her thoughts. She never actively thinks about them -- about poetry in general, for that matter -- but they're there.

She remembers them sometimes. When their friendship grows and strengthens and one day Kara realizes Lena may be the person she loves the most in the world (tied with Alex). When the secrets and lies catch up with her and she thinks she may have lost Lena for good. When she finally gets Lena back.

It's been five years since she snuck into Lena's apartment that one night to find out about her favorite line in her favorite poem. Five years since she's actively thought about Neruda and the book and the words inside it. But for some reason, when Kara wakes up a couple hours earlier than she needs to and finds herself unable to sleep, she feels like that's precisely what she needs to read to soothe her brain. Maybe poetry will have the same sedative effect it used to have in college.

Wearing only an old t-shirt, Kara walks out of the bedroom and into the living area, scanning the shelves where she thinks she last saw that book. It's hard to keep track when your book collection has multiplied and turned into more of a home library situation than anything else, but she eventually finds it -- spine still cracked and pages still well-loved and well-read -- and settles down on the couch.

Kara flips from poem to poem, not really paying attention to any of them. A line from the third and then two from the eighteenth and a word or two from the seventh, eyes flicking between the Spanish lines and their English counterparts on the other side of the page. It's soothing, in a strange way. Like white noise, she figures. Nonsensical but calming. Until she lands on the fourteenth.

"Oh, those cherry trees," Kara half-groans in a whisper. The cherry trees and the spring and the convoluted way to say I love you. And Lena's favorite lines.

Kara feels it all over again. The pang of pain at the sight of that line.

My name that sends everyone running.

It lands different this time, five years into a friendship that turned out to be so much more and nearly went up in flames at one point. Because of names and lies and... well. Everything else. Lena was right after all, wasn't she? It's not about what the poem means. It's about what it makes you feel. And right now Kara feels a lot more than she'd be able to put in words if she had to.

Maybe Mr. Neruda was on to something after all.

"Hey," Lena's voice is laced with sleep, and Kara smiles as she listens to her footsteps bringing her closer, "what are you doing? It's the middle of the night."

Kara wouldn't call it the middle of the night -- more like a very early morning, really -- but she's not about to argue. "Reading. I couldn't sleep."

"Everything all right?" Lena reaches the back of the couch and makes the most of the rare height advantage over her girlfriend to press a kiss to the top of blond hair. "Why couldn't you sleep?"

Kara opens her arms before Lena can even think about sitting next to her instead, and smiles at the familiar weight of Lena sliding onto her lap. Even as she shrugs off Lena's question, Kara is already burying her face against the soft skin of her girlfriend's neck, breathing her in and letting the familiar scent filling her lungs soothe her like no amount of poetry ever could.

"Kara," Lena's fingers slide into blond hair, blunt fingernails scratching at Kara's scalp and making her hum in delight, "that's not an answer."

"No reason. I'm just not tired anymore I guess." A deep, content sigh. "Baby, you're so good at that."

There's still a slight crease between Lena's eyebrows, but that doesn't stop the smile Kara's praise brings to her face. "You'd tell me if I had to worry?"

Reluctantly, Kara pulls away from the warmth of Lena's neck. Her arms wrap around Lena's waist as she looks into green eyes. "You know I would."

And Kara watches Lena let the words sink in. They've had this conversation before, and Kara knows they'll have it again. They both have sore spots that need special care from time to time. And just to keep Lena's mind from going down any sort of rabbit hole, Kara decides it's time to continue a conversation they left unfinished five years ago.

"It didn't hurt at all, you know. Getting used to you." Kara shows Lena the book she's been holding, and grins when Lena smirks as the reference clicks.

"I thought you didn't like poetry," Lena chides, taking the book and flipping through the pages until she lands -- unsurprisingly, if you ask Kara -- back on poem fourteen.

"I don't. It's like... giving feelings a secret identity."

Lena arches one eyebrow, looking somewhere between amused and curious. "Care to explain?"

"Well, you know," Kara leans in to steal a quick, soft kiss, "say I want to kiss you. I can just say it. That's better than hiding it behind some kind of... flowery metaphor that'll make you wonder if I'm even saying that in the first place. Right?"

There's this look on Lena's face. Kara knows it well. It's like a challenge. Like she's playing chess and she's already thinking six moves ahead and knows you're toast whatever you do from that point on. Kara finds it nothing short of delicious.

"So you're saying," Lena says, and there's victory right there simmering under the surface of her words because she knows -- she knows -- she's won, "you'd rather I say 'this is a lovely sunrise we get to see together'," Lena's gaze drops to the open book in her hand to refresh her memory on the line she's about to quote, but she makes sure she's looking into blue eyes once again when she speaks, "than 'so many times we've watched the morning star burn, kissing our eyes, and over our heads the grey light unwind in turning fans', right?"

Kara swallows, hard. Her cheeks burn with a blush that will simply not be contained, no matter how hard she tries to keep some semblance of dignity. Her mouth feels dry all of a sudden, heart beating just fast enough -- hard enough -- that she's sure even Lena's plain human hearing can pick it up. And the look on her girlfriend's face lets Kara know she knows exactly what's currently happening to her.

"W-- well." Kara blinks, shaking her head like she's trying to physically clear the fog inside. To her credit, she thinks she manages to sound more indignant than turned on. "I mean that's unfair. You made it hot."

Lena lets out a delighted chuckle that hits Kara right in her heart, like a little pinball ball making it ding with the knowledge that Lena Luthor is happy enough to laugh. Really, truly laugh.

"What?" Lena asks, still grinning, fingertips teasing the soft hairs at the back of Kara's neck like it's nothing -- like she doesn't know what she's doing to her. "What is that supposed to mean?"

"Ohh no, ma'am," Kara grins, cheeks still burning with the feeling simmering down low in her belly but too charmed by her girlfriend's teasing smile to stop, "you don't get to pretend you didn't do that on purpose."

"Kara," Lena says, in that way, because she knows, she knows, she knows Kara's weaknesses so perfectly well, and Kara wouldn't have it any other way, "I was just quoting Neruda, I didn't do anything."

"You did the voice thing!"

"What voice th-- Kara, if you can't just admit plain language and poetic language are simply not on the same level I--"

"You purred the words! How is that fair!?"

Kara presses her lips together like she can retroactively keep the words from exiting her mouth. Too late, though. Lena looks positively delighted.

"I purred the words?" Lena echoes, barely able to keep a straight face. Actually, you know what? Scratch that. She's openly pleased with herself. Smug, even.

"I mean. I mean," Kara says, and she touches the bridge of her nose with one fingertip because for a moment she's forgotten there are no glasses to push up at all, "obviously it's not the same. Poetry and prose, they're inherently--"

"Different, right," Lena finishes Kara's thought, "so you see how you'd use one or the other depending on how emotionally charged--"

Kara shakes her head. "But you don't need flowery metaphors to convey emotion! You can just say what you mean and mean what you say."

"But you just said it yourself. It felt different when I just said it's a sunset, and when I quoted--"

"You purred poetry at me, Lena, of course I'm going to feel a certain kind of way!"

And there it is. Kara feels it in her bones. The checkmate Lena had seen coming a mile away. She sees it right there in the smirk on her girlfriend's face. In the way Lena's pupils dilate just so. The way her tongue peeks out to lick her lips as she looks at Kara like she's lunch.

Or, you know. Breakfast, as the case may be.

"You feel a certain kind of way?" Lena shifts on Kara's lap and they've been together for long enough that Kara absolutely knows there's nothing innocent or coincidental in the way Lena's night shirt (Kara's high school gym t-shirt, mind you) rides up to expose Lena's lace-covered ass. "What kind of way is that, Supergirl?"

Kara perks up at the sound of her name. Her other name. Because maybe it wasn't checkmate after all. Maybe it was just check. Because the thing is, it's not just Lena knowing all of Kara's weaknesses. That knowledge very much goes both ways. And Lena calling her Supergirl?

Oh, Kara is absolutely not the only one who's feeling a certain way.

"You know." Kara shrugs slightly, pretending to still be the mouse in this little game. She rests one hand on Lena's knee and lets her palm slide up her thigh, slowly, listening to Lena's heartbeat speeding up with each inch of skin Kara explores. "You know the way I mean."

Lena's breath hitches just so when Kara's hand slides further up, and Kara savors the sound of Lena's heart tripping over itself when her fingertips drag along damp lace.

"You're listening, aren't you?" Lena cocks her eyebrow, but her lips stay parted and her breathing comes in short, warm puffs so the whole thing really doesn't come off as stern as Kara is sure Lena would like.

"Hmm?" Kara knows she's probably pushing her luck, but she bats her eyelashes anyway, her face the very picture of innocence as if her fingertips weren't tracing the very edge of Lena's panties, hinting at what they could (will) do if she just happened to push that fabric aside. "Listening to what, baby?"

Lena tries not to -- Kara can see the struggle right there in her eyes -- but she whimpers anyway, quiet and just barely audible to the human ear.

"Kara." It tries to sound like a warning, but it falls just this side of pleading instead. Lena blushes so very pretty when she's feeling a certain kind of way.

"Yes, Lena?"

"You're listening," a breath, slow and measured like she wishes she could take in a deep one but her lungs can't quite cope with that right now, "to me."

"Well, I mean," Kara shrugs slightly, like she can't feel the warmth of Lena's pussy against her fingertips, "I try to. I feel like it's good girlfriend etiquette."

Lena is trying so hard to look at least moderately annoyed. It's not working at all, but Kara can see that's her intent. She also knows exactly what Lena means, too. She means Kara is listening to her. To the beat of her heart and the air in her lungs and all the tiny, inaudible (for everyone else) sounds that tell her exactly how much Lena wants her.

"You're listening to what you're doing to me." Lena drops the book on the floor to wrap both hands around Kara's neck, hips shifting forward just enough to get more contact with Kara's hand between her legs. Kara knows Lena doesn't need superhearing to notice the way Kara's breath catches in her throat.

"And what am I doing to you, baby?" Kara won't cross the barrier of Lena's panties just yet, but her fingers becomes more purposeful, less teasing as two fingertips press against Lena's clit through damp lace. Lena's eyes flutter closed and she takes in a sharp breath that sounds almost like a gasp, and Kara rewards such a gorgeous sound with a kiss to Lena's jaw. "What Spring does to cherry trees?"

Lena must feel Kara's teasing grin even if she can't see it, because she lets out a breathless chuckle even as her hips start rocking to meet the movements of Kara's fingers. "Just admit poetry can express richer emotions than prose ever cou--"

Kara's mouth is on Lena's before she can finish her thought, and Kara would maybe feel a bit guilty for interrupting, but Lena's fingers fist in blond hair and pull her close and there's no way someone who's offended would kiss her like that. And Kara isn't even listening anymore, because Lena's tongue is in her mouth and all she can hear is her own heart thumping along anyway.

When she breaks the kiss, Lena keeps Kara close. She's panting slightly, breath hot and wet against Kara's lips and pupils so dilated Kara wonders if she can see her at all. A quiet, hitched moan escapes parted lips, and Kara swears there's nothing in the world -- in the universe, really -- more beautiful than Lena when she's like this. Like putty in her hands. And Kara just can't resist.

"Admit you purred," she whispers against kiss-swollen lips, knowing if there's one chance for her to win an argument with her girlfriend this must be it. When she has Lena rocking against her fingers, wet and wanting and just the right amount of needy to get her to give in, for once.

"Kara." It's practically a whine, and Kara swears it sounds like victory. Until she sees the glint in her girlfriend's eyes, and Lena gets her checkmate move after all. "Shut up and fuck me."

Kara feels the words rather than hears them. They hit right between her legs and spread all over her body, and you know what? Kara really is okay with losing under these particular circumstances.

Two fingers hook under the crotch of Lena's panties and Kara tugs lightly, almost like she's testing the strength of the lacy fabric. "Do you really like the..." Kara's voice trails off as Lena pulls the t-shirt up and over her head, blue eyes staring unabashedly at her girlfriends breasts as she struggles to finish her thought, "...these?"

It's just polite to ask before tearing someone's panties to shreds, if you ask her, even if you're currently transfixed at the sight of her breasts.

"I don't care." Lena's voice is doing that thing again, except this time Kara is pretty sure she's not doing it on purpose at all, it's just that's what Lena sounds like when she needs Kara now and isn't that just the best thing ever? "Baby, please, I don't care."

Kara doesn't know if she rips the panties off first and then leans in to catch Lena's left nipple with her mouth or if it happens the other way around, but she honestly doesn't care either, as it turns out. All she knows is two fingers slip inside Lena in one smooth, firm thrust, and her free hand grabs Lena's right breast, and then--

"More," Lena moans, breathy and greedy, but when Kara starts thrusting harder into her Lena shakes her head, "no, no-- more fingers," and Kara lets out a quiet whimper around the stiff nipple between her teeth.

Kara pulls her fingers out of Lena and stretches her ring finger to join the first two before sliding them back inside. Her movements are slow and careful, all of her senses focused on detecting even the slightest hint of discomfort in her girlfriend until her three fingers are fully inside Lena.

"Go on, Supergirl."

Lena's tone is just the right amount of teasing to make Kara chuckle lightly, mouth leaving Lena's breast to trail kisses up her sternum and to the freckles on her neck as her arm starts pumping once again. She's so very close, Kara can tell, and even more so when she turns her wrist just so to press the pad of her thumb against Lena's clit.

Lena's fingers dig into Kara's scalp, into the strong muscle at her shoulder as Lena holds on and rides Kara's hand, hips rocking hard and fast in time with Kara's thrusts. Kara couldn't listen to any one thing if she tried. It's a symphony of sighs and moans, whimpers and ragged breaths and stuttering heartbeats that nearly overwhelms her senses until she feels Lena clench around her fingers, hips losing their rhythm as Lena comes with Kara's name on her lips.

Kara pulls her face away from Lena's neck just so she can look at her. Watch her come around her fingers and then relax, chest heaving with the effort of trying to catch her breath. Kara swears there can't be a more beautiful sight in the universe, especially not now, with the sun rising and bathing Lena's damp skin in early morning light. And as much as Kara tries to suppress it, there's a thought running through her head. A line from that stupid poem with its stupid cherry trees.

A long time I have loved the sunned mother-of-pearl of your body...

"You're thinking very loudly," Lena whispers, already resting her head on Kara's shoulder as her fingertips play with the hem of Kara's shirt, "what are you thinking?"

For a second, Kara considers telling her, but Neruda's words aren't what comes out when she opens her mouth. "Just how beautiful you look," she says, which is in fact the truth. Kind of. She can't let Lena win every single time, right?

***

"Apparently the first cherry trees got here in 1910, but they had to burn them all because of a bunch of insects." Kara holds the little guide book in her hand as she reads, her other hand safely in Lena's as they walk along the Tidal Basin. "These ones are newer, from 1912."

"Oh, like the Titanic!" Lena looks delighted with the coincidence, and the bright smile on her face makes Kara lean in to steal a kiss from her lips. Her fiancée is super cute when she lets her inner dork show, if you ask Kara.

"See? I told you buying an actual guide book would be worth it!" Kara holds the small book in her hand with the pride of someone who's just won an argument (for once). "Where else are you going to get that kind of high quality trivia?"

"You do know the prototype L-Corp keychain I gave you last week can access Google, yes?"

"Not the same."

"Not to mention the actual supercomputers we all carry around in our pockets. Or the high-tech communicator in your wat--"

"Lena!" Kara groans. "Look around! The cherry blossoms! The quaintness of springtime! A romantic stroll along the river! Where's your sense of romance?"

Lena chuckles lightly, her free hand sliding up Kara's arm to wrap around her bicep. And Kara would complain about the obvious use of one of her many Lena-related weaknesses, but you know what? It works.

"Kara Danvers," Lena says, voice low and teasing, "that's all very poetic."

Kara rolls her eyes, but she can't quite stop the bright smile that's already appearing on her face. "Don't you start with me," she warns, not very convincingly.

Lena presses a kiss to Kara's shoulder, and it makes color rise to Kara's cheeks even through the soft fabric of her cardigan. Even after all these years. But she figures if there's one day to be particularly enamored with one's fiancée, that's the day she's scheduled to receive a Presidential Award for her contributions to science and the betterment of humanity.

Not to brag. But Kara is proud.

"I love you," Kara says, because she can't not, "and I'm just so proud, I--"

Lena presses a finger to Kara's lips, stopping what was potentially about to turn into a whole speech about the many ways in which Lena Luthor could not possibly be any more perfect if she tried.

"Kara," Lena warns, all cocked eyebrow and slightly pursed lips, "you promised. You promised you wouldn't cry before the actual ceremony."

And Kara would argue. She'd argue that she's perfectly capable of going on about Lena's many virtues without actually crying, but you know what? Her eyes are feeling just a tiny bit misty already so she's just gonna go ahead and trust Lena on this one.

"You know what I also love?" Kara presses a kiss to the pad of Lena's finger and obediently changes subjects. "Sushi. Let's go get some." Kara starts walking away from the beautiful soft pink trees and in the general direction of the street festival, tugging Lena along. She's all for the romance of blossom-watching, but she'd be lying if she said hearing about the culinary side of this whole festival hadn't excited her a bit more than that.

It's only when she hears a sigh coming from Lena that Kara's focus shifts from food to the woman next to her. That wasn't a happy sigh.

"Are you okay, baby?"

Lena smiles. It's not a fake smile, but there's a hint of something in it that isn't fully happy, either. "Yes. Yes, I'm fine. It's just... between the cherry blossoms and all this talk of sushi, I guess it made me a bit nostalgic for Sendai."

"Sendai?" Kara looks at Lena with curiosity written all over her face. "What's Sendai?"

"Oh, it's a city in Japan. I lived there for a few months for an exchange when I was in college. Did I never tell you?" Kara shakes her head, her face the picture of delight at getting to learn something new about Lena. "There was this little restaurant near Tohokudai, I swear they had the best sushi in the world." Lena hums, letting her eyes flutter closed for a second like she's trying to imagine the taste. "I'd do anything for some negitoro maki from that place right about now."

Kara listens intently to her fiancée's words. She knows it's just a silly little comment. She knows Lena will be perfectly happy eating the undoubtedly delicious sushi currently being sold at the street festival. And yet.

She can't resist a chance to make Lena just that little bit happier, can she?

So Kara looks around to make sure they're not being watched, and lets go of Lena's hand. "Be right back."

"Where are you--?"

But all Lena gets is a quick kiss and a gust of wind on her face before Kara disappears.

She's only gone for a couple of minutes -- just enough for Lena to wander back towards the cherry trees -- and when she comes back she's holding a small box which she immediately presents to Lena.

"Sushi for my... sushi," Kara lets out a chuckle, her now-free hand coming up to scratch at the back of her head like she's aware she may have gone just a little bit overboard but she's hoping it won't be too much, "Sendai's beautiful, by the way."

Lena's smile is soft, and Kara has a feeling -- not to toot her own horn -- if she'd been listening she would've heard Lena's heart skip a beat.

"Kara Danvers," Lena sighs, shaking her head like that'll do anything to hide just how charmed she is right now, "you're something el-- what's that?"

"Nothing," Kara shifts slightly and puts her hand -- and the little carton box it's holding -- behind her back, fully intending on letting the focus of this moment be on her romantic gesture, but Lena raises one eyebrow and Kara loses her resolve. "Potstickers." Kara's voice is quiet as she shows Lena the box. "What? I was in the neighborhood!"

"In the neighborhood of," Lena squints slightly as she reads the words on the box, "Shanghai?"

"Well, China is next door to Japan, if you think about it."

Lena chuckles, clearly too charmed by this whole thing to even continue teasing Kara about it. "Thank you. For this. You didn't actually have to fly all the way to Japan to get my favorite sushi, but I appreciate it."

Kara shrugs, chopsticks already grabbing the first potsticker in the box. "I'd go way farther than Japan to make you happy. You know that."

"I do know," Lena nods, looking just a little thoughtful, like she's just now realizing she fully believes Kara would stop at nothing to make her happy, "you even promised when you proposed."

Lena wiggles her finger, flashing the kryptium ring that's been there for a few weeks now along with a teasing smile, and Kara can only shrug. "Well, I meant it," she says, popping the potsticker in her mouth and leaning against the trunk of a nearby cherry tree.

"I know," Lena says again, but this time she's smiling, amusement shining in her eyes, "if only Lex had figured out the one true way to have the world in the palm of your hand is to make a Kryptonian fall in love with you."

"To be fair, I really don't think your brother is Kal's type."

***

Eight hours later, they're seeing the Tidal Basin from above, the cherry blossoms looking nearly white in the moonlight. They could be in National City already, but Kara figures there's no reason why she can't take the scenic route with Lena in her arms and enjoy the view without the crowds and the bustle they experienced earlier today. Perks of being your own private jet.

"Go a bit lower, baby," Lena's voice is soft against Kara's ear, like she's afraid if she speaks too loud she'll break the spell and they won't feel like the only two people in the world anymore, "I want to see the flowers."

Kara doesn't make her wait. Lena's just been awarded an actual medal by the President, and spoiling her a little is the least Kara can do. So she dips until they're hovering just above the soft pink blossoms and then a little lower still, close enough that Lena can smell the sweet, fresh scent of Spring.

The night is clear and quiet, just cool enough for Lena to reach for Kara's cape and pull it forward to wrap it around herself. Kara holds her a little closer, just enough to hopefully provide a bit of extra warmth, and she figures it was the right move when Lena slips one arm from under Kara's cape to reach for the tree and pick a particularly pretty blossom from one of the branches that's closer to them.

Lena looks at it for a moment, twirling the little stem between her fingers like she's pondering what to do with it. And then she turns and tucks Kara's hair behind her ear, sliding the small flower between soft blond strands and smiling when she's satisfied it'll stay exactly where she wants it.

"Happy?" Kara chuckles, something soft and quiet and a little teasing because there's something equal parts amusing and endearing about Lena's perfectionism when it comes to silly little things like putting a flower in Kara's hair.

"Very."

And there's something about the way Lena smiles, more with her eyes than with her mouth, that makes Kara see, clear as day, just how serious Lena is. How sincere, when she says she's very happy.

Maybe that's why Kara gets a little transfixed just looking at her, suddenly aware of just how different this Lena -- the Lena wrapped in her arms and her cape, wearing her ring and smiling with a smile that's just Kara's -- is from the Lena she first met all those years ago.

"Kara Zor-El," Lena's voice is soft just like the sound of Kara's true name on her lips, "what are you thinking about?"

And Kara wishes she had the words to tell her. But how does she even begin to explain what she's feeling right now? How she's still the same Lena that made Kara's heart trip all over itself the first time she saw her, but she's so very different all the same time. Brighter. Lighter. Loved. God, she's so loved, and Lena knows it, finally, and that's what's different, maybe. Not just Kara's love, because Lena's had that from the very first day, probably, but the fact that Lena can feel it now.

How do you put that in words? I love you just doesn't feel like enough.

And then it hits her.

"I'm thinking," Kara smiles, cheeks pink with the knowledge that she's just been proven wrong, "about what Spring does to cherry trees."

#fic #fanfiction #supercorp fanfic #supercorp fanfiction #supercorp

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spactcle · 3 years

Text

you say it first

Archive of Our Own Link

Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Archive Warning: No Archive Warnings Apply Fandoms: Boku no Hero Academia | My Hero Academia Relationships: Bakugou Katsuki/Kirishima Eijirou Language: English

Summary: “I can’t tell him.” “Why not?” “Because then he’d know.” Kirishima and Bakugou seek advice from their friends about UA's worst-kept secret (except, apparently, from them).

“I think I’m in love with Bakugou.”

Kaminari is bent over his homework, cheek resting on his fist. His shoulders freeze, he doesn’t look up from his workbook, but his pen stops scrawling across the page. After a few beats, he lifts his chin and plops it on his fist instead.

“I mean… obviously.”

“What?”

“Dude, c’mon. I know I’m me and this will sound weird but let’s get serious and study, please? My grades don’t have time for you to state the obvious.”

“The obvious?” Kirishima pops up from where he's sprawled out on the ground, looking at Kaminari in disbelief. “How did you know?”

“Everyone knows, slick,” Kaminari retorts, sarcasm dripping from the nickname. “Now we have finals next week, can we please focus?”

“Everyone?”

“Okay.” Kaminari’s hands clap together and he snaps his workbook closed. “Clearly we are focusing on the wrong thing. Why are you bringing this up,” the tip of his finger jabs as his closed workbook, tapping at it for effect, “now?”

“Why have you not brought it up?” Kirishima accuses, arms gesturing widely.

“Because I thought you knew!”

“How would I know?”

Kaminari jabs his finger accusingly at Kirishima instead now. “They’re your feelings, Kiri!” His finger curls back into a fist and he brings it to his lips, brow drawing in with concern as he thinks. “Your weird, weird feelings. But still.”

Kirishima blows a raspberry at him, leaving his lips out in a pout with the gall to look offended. “How are my feelings weird?”

“Bakugou is an emotionally constipated trash can,” Kaminari deadpans. “And you’re… I don’t know? Whatever the opposite of that would be.”

“Diarrhea recycling bin.”

A beat. Kaminari’s face pulls back into a disgusted grimace. “Really could have done without that mental image.”

Kirishima shrugs and starts to nervously pull at his hair. It’s a Saturday and he didn’t style it today, just has his bangs pulled into a half ponytail behind his head. Kaminari has told him to just chop it off but Kirishima insists that it’s part of my brand, and besides how is Blasty going to call me shitty-hair if I don’t have any?

His confusion is what’s most baffling to Kaminari. They’re in their third year and it feels like Bakugou and Kirishima should have figured each other out by now – they know one another better than anyone else could, so how are they so bad at this? Kaminari figured out his feelings for Jirou the previous year, Midoriya and Uraraka got together just a few months later, and even Kendou and Tetsu finally stopped beating around the bush. Now that he thinks about it, a lot of people more emotionally dense than Kirishima have confessed to their respective partners, like Todoroki and Tokoyami.

One of Kirishima’s sharp teeth hangs over his bottom lip as he chews at the skin. It makes Kaminari feel a little bit bad. But only a little. He really should have joined Jirou and Momo for studying instead.

“Why are you bringing this up now?” he repeats his previous question but without the edge to his voice, trying to exercise patience for his friend.

Kirishima collapses on the table, voice muffled by his arm. “Because I don’t know what to do.”

“Tell him.”

“I’m being serious.”

“So am I.”

Kirishima lifts turns his head up slightly to glare at him from over his arm. “I can’t tell him.”

“Why not?”

“Because then he’d know.” He hides his face again.

Kaminari rolls his eyes so far back he’s surprised he doesn’t see the inside of his skull. “That’s usually the idea.” Kirishima’s answer is a wordless scoff, tongue sputtering around words he can’t form. “Just tell him. There’s no way he doesn’t feel the same.” The sputtering worsens and Kirishima snaps his head up from the table, gawking at Kaminari as his face turns as red as his hair.

“I said I was serious!”

“Yeah, seriously blind.”

“What?”

This time Kaminari is almost positive he sees his skull, but that could just be his vision whiting as he strains his eyes. “Kirishima Eijirou,” the full name absolutely required to get his full and undivided attention. “The fact that you and Bakugou have got it bad for each other is the worst kept secret in the entire school – except, apparently, from the both of you. I’m almost positive that there’s some kind of bet going around about when you two will stop being complete boneheads and make it official.”

Kirishima’s eyes wandered around the room as if searching for a cosmic answer to all his problems. “We… bet? Bakugou… I’m…”

“Yes. Now can we please study? And you can deal with your love life later?”

Kirishima’s cheeks grow big as he puffs them up with air and stares blankly at their workbooks. Kaminari gives him a full minute then clicks his tongue and starts to pack up. “Alright. I’m going to leave you here to process. Good luck, bro.” He sets a hand on Kirishima’s shoulder as he wraps his other arm around his schoolwork. “I know I said it was weird and all – and in my defense, it is – but I think we’re all rooting for you two.”

Lips formed around words that didn’t seem to want to come out of Kirishima’s mouth and Kaminari just sighed, patting him on the back before making his exit. He really should have just studied with Jirou and Momo.

- - -

“I think Kirishima is in love with me.”

Uraraka looks up from her place at the desk. She spins in her chair to find Bakugou collapsing on her bed, then she looks to find the hidden camera that someone must have hidden in her room. No one pops out of her closet laughing, and Bakugou is laying on his back staring at the ceiling, arms lying limp at his sides. He’s frowning in the way that he only does when he’s encountered an obstacle that he can’t quite figure out. So, this isn’t a prank.

“Why are you telling me this?”

He snaps up, rage normalizing his expression again, and argues, “Who the fuck else am I supposed to tell?”

Uraraka frowns at him pointedly and his lips fall out of the snarl and into a resigned grimace, a sign that she has come to recognize as his apology. “Kirishima, for starters.”

“Fuck that.” Bakugou flops back onto her bed. “Why should I have to do anything when he’s the one in love with me?” He gestures wildly at the ceiling like it’s the one that he came to for advice on his love life.

“Are you in love with him too?”

Instantly, his expression closes off. He turns his face away from her and lets his arms fall back to his sides.

“Bakugou?”

“Shut up. The hell are you asking for anyway?”

Uraraka’s cheeks blow up with air before she huffs at him. “It’s the obvious question.”

“The fuck it is.”

“If Kirishima burst in here, just as rudely as you did, and declared his love for you – what would you do about it?”

Bakugou’s head turns away from her, but she can see the back of his neck redden and she isn’t big enough to not feel satisfied by that. He’s treating his and Kirishima’s feelings as if it’s some huge secret and revelation – but she, Deku, Todoroki, and Tsu have a bet about how long it will go before one of them does something about it. Iida disapproves.

If it happens in the next week, the pot goes to Todoroki.

Her bet starts the week after.

He’s lucky that Uraraka is at least a big enough person to help him now instead of waiting.

“Probably something along the lines of,” she clears her throat, bringing her hands together and resting them against her cheek, then continues in a high pitch, “oh, Kirishima, I love you too! Sweep me off my feet!”

Bakugou sits back up before she’s even finished, hands poised to attack, and face screwed into a scowl, but the effect is decidedly lessened considering the deep blush coloring his cheeks. “Shut the fuck up if you want to graduate, round face!”

She leans back in her chair, lifting an eyebrow, unimpressed. “Bakugou, you obviously have feelings for him. This wouldn’t bother you so much if you didn’t.”

“It doesn’t fucking bother me.”

“It bothers you that he hasn’t said anything.”

“It—” His mouth snaps shut and his eyes dart away from her. His ears also start to turn pink and then he zeroes in on her with a sharp glare. “You bother me.”

Uraraka rolls her eyes and waves him off. “Everything but Kirishima bothers you.”

“He bothers me too.”

“Because he hasn’t told you that he loves you.”

“Fuck off.” He throws himself backward on the bed, again, arms crossed over his chest as he glares are the ceiling instead of her.

She observes him. Over the years, she’s learned to read Bakugou – being one of the few to earn his respect early on had those perks, if it could be called that. But she knows when he’s thinking too much – which is what he’s doing right now.

“Bakugou, why are you here?”

He doesn’t answer.

“Do you need me to tell you that you need to tell him?”

“I don’t need you at all,” he snaps, but there’s no heat behind it.

She ignores him. “You should tell him.”

Bakugou makes a frustrated noise in the back of his throat. “He’s the one that always goes on about manliness. What the fuck is manly about keeping shit to yourself?” His arms uncurl from his chest and his fingers make a fist. “Fucking own up to it.”

“Well, you’re the one that always says you do what you want,” she points out, tilting her head to the side. “So… if you want Kirishima, then shouldn’t you say something?”

He doesn’t reply, and his arms fall back onto the bed. Uraraka shrugs and turns back to her desk. Their finals are coming up after all and he interrupted her studies.

“I’m fucking going to sleep,” he says finally, pushing himself off the bed.

“Or you could help me study,” she offers without turning around, voice airy. She knows the answer to that.

“Fuck no.”

“Oh, that’s right. You only ever help Kirishima.”

There’s a small explosion as the door slams behind him, but Uraraka smirks and isn’t big enough to not feel satisfied.

- - -

What the fuck does Uraraka know anyway? She’d shacked up with Deku a year ago, so Bakugou clearly overestimated her judgment and overall sense.

Truthfully, not that he would ever say this out loud, Bakugou doesn’t know why he went to her room. He doesn’t know why he was so tracked on this when his main objective should be elbowing his way to the top of his class. Finals were soon for fuck’s sake. What the fuck was he worrying about Kirishima or feelings for, anyway? He is Bakugou fucking Katsuki, and he is going to be the undeniable number one.

Hands clenched into fists, the right one still steaming from his outburst at Uraraka’s last words, he takes the girl’s elevator down to the common area. Water first, then he’ll take another practice exam before sleeping. He shoves his clenched hands into his pockets and stalks across the common area.

It’s dark outside and the rooms here are empty, everyone already separated into studying groups or gone to bed. If this was two years ago, Bakugou would already likely have been asleep. He didn’t normally stay or socialize in the common room, and if he did it was only for a few minutes or maybe an hour. But Kirishima persisted and it was annoying. He wouldn’t fucking leave Bakugou alone or stop nagging him about hanging out with his peers more (Your friends, Kirishima would correct him, but Bakugou only started calling them peers in their second year). How was he ever going to connect more with their classmates if he just holed himself up in his room to study?

Fuck you. I fucking help you, don’t I?

Exactly! And now we’re best bros!

When the hell had Bakugou asked for more friends? He hadn’t even asked for the one!

But, honestly, he’s quietly glad he’d been forced out of his room, even if he won't admit it out loud or say it in so many words. Some – and only some – of his classmates were actually pretty cool. His friends from before hadn’t really been friends. Lackeys, maybe… Kids that were taken with the boy with a great quirk and a domineering personality. Other bullies, he reminds himself. And he’d been fine with that at the time. He hadn’t needed anyone else, and he hadn’t wanted them. He would think that other people would hold him back, ask for things, for compromises – or worse, look down on him.

Then Kirishima decided they were friends and Bakugou hadn’t really done anything to stop that from happening. It changed him… for the better.

Fuck. He needs to stop thinking about it. He’s got more control than this.

Bakugou gnaws at his lower lip, glaring at the bouquet of flowers sitting on the coffee table. Blue bell-shaped flowers that he couldn’t be bothered to remember the name of. What he does remember is everyone’s look of surprise when it had been Todoroki carrying those flowers, and with the confidence that he always seemed to possess, walked right up to Iida and asked him on a date. Four-Eyes turned redder than Todoroki’s left side and started sweating so badly that his glasses wouldn’t stay on his face. But the takeaway from the story for Bakugou was seeing Kirishima’s soft, almost sad smile and the awkward way he laughed it off when Bakugou asked him what was wrong.

Well, more specifically Bakugou asked, What the fuck is wrong with your face?

The petals were starting to wither at the edges, but Class 1A had really come together to keep them alive for this long, though he’s pretty sure it was the girl with the vines in 1B that was doing most of the work. The two classes met and hung out a lot more than they used to. It was always so damn loud now.

Scowling, Bakugou keeps moving toward the kitchen. Yeah, maybe it had been the wrong thing to say. Maybe. Like he doesn’t already know it was the wrong thing to say.

Are you in love with him too?

“Fuck,” he swears, throwing open the fridge. The water bottles were running low, and he frowns, taking one of the last four after a moment of consideration.

When he rights himself, he starts to close the door when Kirishima comes around the corner. Because of course he does, and of course he has his shitty hair down and not styled since Bakugou always thinks he looks so goddamn pretty like that. He looks just as caught off guard to see Bakugou. “Oh, hey man, what’s up?” He asks, his hand going to the back of his head and that fucking adorably shy, little smile on his lips – the one where Bakugou can only see his top teeth and his eyes crinkle a little.

You should tell him.

Bakugou grits his teeth at the thought and wills away the blush that threatens to dust his cheeks as he remembers what Uraraka said. “Water,” he grunts, the fridge door standing awkwardly open as a physical barrier between them. “What are you doing down here?”

“Snack,” Kirishima replies, with a small shrug as he moves closer and further into the kitchen. “Kaminari abandoned me to go study with Jirou and Momo, I think.”

“You think?”

And dammit the huffy little laugh Kirishima lets out, the one that Bakugou recognizes as him being embarrassed makes his heart stutter in his chest. “Yeah. I was distracted…” He starts absentmindedly looking through the cabinets as he speaks. “Thought some food might help, though.”

Bakugou shakes his head at Kirishima. “You’re always getting distracted. You need me there to keep you on track.”

Kirishima glances at him with that smile. “You study by yourself on Thursdays,” he replies with good nature as he moves to the next cabinet, the one full of nothing but dishes. When his eyes return to see the contents, he still stares into it like he’s looking for something, clearly feigning interest and clearly still distracted.

“You could’ve asked if you were having trouble,” Bakugou grumbles, his brow wrinkling as he watches.

Kirishima lets out another awkward laugh. “Yeah, I guess I could,” he agrees. He doesn’t move from the dish cabinet.

Is he pointedly avoiding looking at Bakugou now? A frown lowers on Bakugou’s lips and he stares at Kirishima’s profile for a long moment, waiting for him to say something else. Kirishima fills silences, not Bakugou. Kirishima doesn’t avoid eye contact, Bakugou does. Kirishima doesn’t stare into dish cabinets when he’s hungry and looking for a snack, Bakugou—well, no, he doesn’t. He shakes his head, annoyed with where this thought process is leading.

Bakugou doesn’t shy away from conflict. And neither does Kirishima. So…

“What the fuck are you doing, shitty hair?”

That seems to startle him, and his eyes tear away from the dishes. “Oh! There’s no food in here.” His sheepish laugh returns, but this time it’s annoying because that's the one he uses when he's trying to brush something off. “Guess I’m still distracted.”

“No. You’ve been acting weird all day.” Ever since the Todoroki-Flowers incident, but Bakugou doesn’t say that.

“Have I?” Kirishima asks, closing the cabinet as his eyes dart around the room and look anywhere but Bakugou.

That makes him grind his teeth. He knows Bakugou hates being answered with questions. He was going to wring this shitty-haired, perfect piece of shit’s neck. His gaze zeroes in on Kirishima and he narrows his eyes. “Kirishima.”

At the sound of his name, ruby-red eyes find Bakugou’s own, and he blinks rapidly. “Uh…” He stutters as sharp teeth worry at this bottom lip and Bakugou hates the way he can’t help but follow that movement. Pink dusts Kirishima’s cheeks and Bakugou’s hand clenches into a fist as he tries to avoid moving over there to touch and see if his cheeks are warming with the color. The bottle crackles in his hand as he squeezes it. “Sorry, Bakugou. I’m really just a little distracted, honest.”

Bakugou looks at him, his expression gradually easing out of irritation. He feels like there’s something in his throat and he still hates it. “Tch. Just come get your damn food,” he says, stepping away from the fridge like an offering. And he hates that he knows that Kirishima will recognize that as Bakugou looking out for him in his own way – that it’s his way of saying eat something and maybe that will help.

He hates it even more that it works.

A knowing smile flits across Kirishima’s lips and he nods. He says something that Bakugou doesn’t register because all he can think about is that Kirishima is moving closer and stepping around him to take a look in the fridge. He stands back, watching the back of Kirishima’s head as he looks through what he could eat, and the proximity makes Bakugou’s chest feel full, and his hands sweat, and he hates it.

No. Fuck. He doesn’t hate it.

Bakugou, you obviously have feelings for him. This wouldn’t bother you so much if you didn’t.

Uraraka really got in his head. Because she was right. It did bother him. Kirishima was good with feelings. He was the one that was always encouraging Bakugou to embrace his emotions – shit, all the nights they’d spent staying up talking after Bakugou woke from nightmares to a panic attack and Kirishima could hear him through the walls. Kirishima vocalized his worries and his anxieties, he used them to talk and relate to their classmates and lower classmen, hell, even villains. Because Kirishima was good.

It bothers you that he hasn’t said anything.

Of course, it bothers him! Why should Bakugou have to take the initiative here? He was never the one who had to take the initiative before. Kirishima brought him into a friendship kicking and screaming, but that didn’t deter him. Even on Bakugou’s worst day, he knew Kirishima would still be there.

Are you in love with him too?

Fuck.

“Kirishima.”

Kirishima rights himself and looks back at Bakugou like he’s surprised to hear his name again. He turns around and he’s backlit by the light from the fridge like a goddamn angel and fuck if he isn’t the prettiest thing Bakugou’s ever seen. Bakugou’s brain feels like mush for the first time in his life and all he can do is glare at Kirishima’s confused face while he tries to decipher what exactly possessed him to say this stupid, wonderful, infuriating, amazing boy’s name.

Well, you’re the one that always says you do what you want.

Before he manages to catch up with himself, Bakugou finds himself stepping into Kirishima’s space and reaching up to hold the sides of his neck. He's never done this before because no one has ever caught his attention like this, no one has ever felt so close to him as Kirishima, but fuck if it isn’t perfect when he presses his lips to Kirishima’s, swallowing the small gasp that passes his lips.

Kirishima is still for a few beats, but he moves just before Bakugou begins to worry that he made a mistake. His hands find Bakugou’s hips, and he presses back, tilting his head into the kiss.

Bakugou might not know what he’s doing, but even to him, it’s clear that Kirishima does. The hands at his hips don’t stay there for long as they wind behind him to lie flat against his back, just under his shoulder blades as Kirishima bends and pulls Bakugou up into him – when did he get so damn tall? And he will never admit to the noise that he makes into Kirishima’s mouth when his tongue pushes gently into his mouth, or to the way his arms secure around solid shoulders as his fingers twist gently into red hair. He’ll die before he ever says he feels lighter and over the moon and like he’s having a moment straight out of those stupid American movies that Ashido likes so much.

The kiss is slow and sweet and everything like what he thought a kiss from Kirishima would be, because now that he’s actually kissing him, he will admit to thinking about it before. He lets Kirishima explore his mouth with his tongue, letting him lead and he’s never been so happy to follow.

As it slows to a stop, their lips press together in a lingering way and it’s Kirishima that finally pulls away. Despite the way he’d been so confidently and thoroughly kissing Bakugou, his eyes are completely full of questions and some uncertainty, wide and staring at him.

Bakugou looks back at him and realizes they’re still wrapped around each other and he’s a little out of breath. He doesn't know what he did with the water bottle he had in his hand, but it's gone too. No, right now, nothing else matters. So, he sets his jaw and tightens his hold slightly on Kirishima’s shoulders. Resolve. He’s full of resolve. He’s Bakugou fucking Katsuki, and he goes after what he wants.

“I do what I want,” he says, his voice sure even if a bit winded. “And I want you.”

The way Kirishima’s eyes light up and a slow, blindingly happy smile creeps onto his lips sends Bakugou’s heart into fits and his stomach turns upside down with fucking butterflies.

“You want to do me?” Kirishima asks, a laugh tinging the back of his throat.

Moment ruined.

Bakugou’s cheeks warm faster than his quirk and he knows he’s turned the shade of Kirishima’s hair. “Fuck you,” he says, putting a hand on Kirishima’s face and shoving him away as that piece of shit laughs – and goddammit if it’s not Bakugou's favorite sound.

He pulls away, pushing off of Kirishima’s face as he goes and extracting himself from his arms. He storms away, hands balled into fists at his sides as he swears at himself because he doesn’t know how to fucking do this. The door to the fridge closes somewhere behind him and Kirishima’s laughter follows him to the elevator.

“Oh, come on, that was funny and you know it!” He says, catching Bakugou’s upper arm and letting himself get dragged onto the elevator as the doors pull open.

“No, it wasn’t,” Bakugou snaps, but all the fire there is just to mask his embarrassment. “I take it back. I hate you.” He shrugs off Kirishima’s hand and jams his finger against the button to their floor.

It doesn’t deter Kirishima in the slightest. It never does. “No, you don’t,” he laughs brightly. He takes his hand back, but steps back into Bakugou’s space as the doors close. “You like me.” His hands find Bakugou’s waist, and he turns Bakugou to face him, his lips pressing warm against flushed cheeks.

Bakugou turns his head slightly away, his hands grasping Kirishima’s forearms, but he can’t find it in him to pull away. “The worst,” he mutters, but still leans into the kisses pressed along his cheekbone.

A low chuckle rumbles through Kirishima’s chest – oh, oh that’s a new one and Bakugou doesn’t know what it means and he’s a second away from worrying about it because he’s gotten to the point where he can recognize Kirishima’s laughs or nonverbal cues and that’s new, but then Kirishima is stepping forward and pushing him back slowly. He presses against the wall of the elevator and it’s cold through his shirt but Kirishima is warm at his front and oh okay, fuck. There’s a little huff that works its way unbidden from his throat and his arms are moving without thinking as he clings to Kirishima.

“The worst, huh?” Kirishima grins, nudging his nose against Bakugou’s cheek for his attention.

And he gives it to him, turning his head back and letting Kirishima kiss him silly again. He feels hot all over, in a way that doesn’t have anything to do with his quirk. The cold at his back is exhilarating, somehow, as Kirishima presses him against the wall. He’s vaguely aware that the elevator has stopped moving and the doors are opening but he doesn’t care because Kirishima’s tongue is in his mouth again and it’s such a weird feeling but so, so right when it’s Kirishima.

Those lips trail away from Bakugou’s and he grunts at the loss, but then bites down on his bottom lip as Kirishima makes his way over his jaw and mouths at this throat. That’s when a whine – a fucking whine – forces its way past Bakugou’s tongue. His hands drop to Kirishima’s shoulders and he grits his teeth. “Fuck,” he growls, forcing his voice lower.

Then this mother fucker giggles and pulls away – and Bakugou honestly doesn’t know which one he’s more pissed off at – smiling at him. It’s blinding. “You’re so cute,” he exclaims. “I like you so much.”

“Shut up,” Bakugou groans, digging his fingers into Kirishima’s shoulder and ducking his head as he feels his cheeks redden again.

“Say you do what you want again! Say that you like me!” Kirishima pleads, laughing the whole time.

“Fucking—” Bakugou cuts himself off, not even sure what he wants to say. “You—” He growls unintelligibly again, and pushes Kirishima away from him, even if it is the gentlest push he thinks he’s ever given in his life. He slams his finger on their floor again, and the doors open immediately. He stalks around this laughing, amazing mother fucker and into the hallway, making a straight line to his room.

As always, ever since they were first-years, Kirishima follows. And he’s still laughing like an idiot, and there’s a section of Bakugou’s chest and stomach that is absolutely giddy, and he grinds his teeth instead of smiling. “Bakugou,” Kirishima calls, elongating his name and fuck it’s cute and he’s going to wake the entire floor up and if that happens Bakugou knows that he’ll die.

The door recognizes his fingerprint – a security measure that the school added in last year, but Bakugou knows it’s because some people just couldn’t ever keep track of their damn keys – and the door opens. Kirishima still follows him, stopping the door with his foot and a hand flat on the door. Damn, he is so lucky that Bakugou wasn’t slamming it because he didn’t even harden.

“I just want to talk,” Kirishima says, smiling sweetly at him. The laughter has mostly subsided, but it still shines in his eyes.

Bakugou’s heart thumps loudly in his chest, and he softens. He loves this boy and it’s so weird to think that so openly to himself now, but he likes it.

“And then, maybe you can cross a few things off your to-do list.” Kirishima waggles his eyebrows, that sweet smile turning into a knowing smirk.

Nope, nevermind, Bakugou hates him.

“You shithead,” he groans. But despite that, he walks away from his door and makes no move to close it again. A silent invitation for Kirishima to enter which is wholeheartedly taken.

It amazes Bakugou how relaxed Kirishima is in his room. He treats it like his own, acting perfectly at home and comfortable as he collapses on Bakugou’s bed. Meanwhile, Bakugou’s brain is reeling. It’s like there are red flashing lights in his head that are screaming at him, Kirishima is in your room and on your bed, as if Kirishima hadn’t ever been here before.

But it’s different now because he just had his tongue down your throat in the elevator and you’re hoping that he does that again, his brain points out.

And it’s fucking right, and Bakugou doesn’t remember the last time he’s felt this unsure in his own space. At least not about something this stupid. Sure, there had been his first year where he was the reason that his childhood role model and reason he decided to become a hero had to retire because of him. And the fact that, at the same time, his childhood rival was starting to rise to his level and surpass him. Kirishima had been by his side then, though, and that made things just a little better. And it made him want to be better. But now Kirishima was in his bed and laid out like a fucking angel—

“I can hear you thinking, babe,” Kirishima said, looking up at him with that smile again. The soft one that Bakugou thinks is probably the reason he fell in love in the first place.

Wait. Babe.

Fuck, he’s on fire, he knows it.

Kirishima laughs and holds out his hand, gesturing for Bakugou to take it. “Come sit down. Don’t worry, I promise I just want to talk.”

Bakugou feels so tense. His shoulders feel like they have rocks on them, but he takes Kirishima’s hand and the sweat that’s layering his palm doesn’t seem to be a bother as he’s tugged forward and onto the bed. “I’m not worried,” he grumbles, crossing his legs under himself, sitting across from Kirishima and he knows that his lie is utterly unconvincing in his presence.

The reassuring look on Kirishima’s face is almost enough to make him actually not worry. “Yeah, okay, tough guy,” he chuckles, looking down at their hands and rubbing his thumb over the top of Bakugou’s. It feels nice. Really nice. Bakugou didn’t know he could like physical touch this much, but it feels so genuine coming from Kirishima, who’s one of the only people who’s never been afraid to touch him. And now he’s holding dangerous hands so gently and, fuck, lovingly.

Bakugou can’t decide if he wants to pull away because it’s overwhelming, or dive in headfirst and drown in it.

“I’ve liked you for so long,” Kirishima tells him quietly.

Bakugou wants to say I know or That’s because you have good taste or something confident but instead, his throat feels too dry and he swallows, watching Kirishima’s hands stroke his own.

“I kinda… love you, actually.”

Bakugou dives. Kirishima’s not going to let him drown.

“Me…” He clears his throat when his voice comes out scratchy. Kirishima looks up at him and he looks hopeful, which Bakugou thinks is stupid. He doesn’t need to look hopeful, he should already know. Kirishima knows him better than anyone. For fuck’s sake, Bakugou had been the one to move first – for the first time in their friendship. Relationship? Shit.

“You?” Kirishima prompts him, and Bakugou realizes he’s just been staring at him like a dumbass.

“I love you,” he finishes because Kirishima deserves for him to actually say it, even if his voice is an embarrassed, low grumble. Not just say me too or yeah or some kind of quick exchange where Bakugou gets to leave it unsaid while Kirishima keeps carrying the burden of initiating everything. He doesn’t need Kirishima to initiate everything. He’s Bakugou fucking Katsuki.

Kirishima’s smile puts every other smile in his arsenal to shame. This one is Bakugou’s new favorite. This is the one he’s going to think about every waking second. The one that’s going to get him to do whatever Kirishima wants, and he’ll do it happily behind a mask of annoyance because that’s just how he is and Kirishima accepts that about him.

He’s Kirishima fucking Eijirou and Bakugou is so damn in love with him.

It is weird to say, though. Bakugou has never said those three words together before. But it’s not a bad weird, and he still feels like himself. That’s how he knows that it’s true.

“I love you, too!” Kirishima exclaims, reaching for him and cupping his face gently at the jaw.

“Yeah, you said that already,” Bakugou replies, averting his gaze for a few moments for his own sanity before inevitably being pulled back in by the magnet of Kirishima’s pure joy.

“And I’ll keep saying it,” Kirishima insists. “Can I kiss you again?”

“I’ll be fucking pissed if you don’t.”

Kirishima’s lips are already on his by the end of his sentence, because he already knew the answer would be yes. It’s just as good as the last three kisses, and Bakugou wonders when he’ll stop keeping count.

This one is different though because Kirishima is pulling Bakugou closer but they’re sitting down. But he wants to be closer, too, so he moves and it’s strange. But this is clearly not the first time for Kirishima, because his hands are on Bakugou’s waist to help him move and arrange them in a mess of limbs where Bakugou sits on Kirishima’s lap. Now his hands are on Kirishima’s neck and he’s above him for the first time. Hand spread over his back and the tension in his shoulders melts away. His eyebrows are scrunched together, and he feels so helpless but safe like this.

Then laughter once again bubbles up from Kirishima but this time Bakugou ignores him. He’s just happy. That has to be all it is. But it doesn’t stop and increases a little when Bakugou experiments with his own tongue, sliding it over Kirishima’s lips.

Bakugou pulls back and glares down at him. The tips of his ears are red. It’s not like he’s ever kissed anyone before so, of course, he doesn’t really know what he’s doing but he’ll be damned if he doesn’t do it confidently. “The fuck are you laughing for?” He frowns.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” Kirishima says. One of his hands leaves Bakugou’s back and covers his face, pressing the pad of his finger under his eye, tears leaking out of the corner. “This is just crazy. I just went to get a snack.” He pauses, wiping at his eye and looking up at Bakugou with consideration. “Well, actually. I mean, I guess I did kind of get one.” He grins and his hands go back to Bakugou’s sides, looking him over appreciatively.

“Shut the fuck up,” Bakugou groans, dropping his head onto Kirishima’s shoulder. It takes him a moment to realize how natural that was, so he doesn’t move, turning his head into Kirishima’s neck.

“Does this mean you’re my boyfriend now?”

“Fuck off.” His voice is muffled on Kirishima’s skin and he fists his hands in the back of Kirishima’s shirt.

“You would miss me too much.” And fuck, if he isn’t right about that.

“Maybe,” Bakugou concedes, a little huffy.

Another bright laugh and this time Bakugou doesn’t try to stop the smile that creeps onto his face. “Alright, so now we can hold hands walking to class. I want to cuddle in the common room on movie nights too, okay?” Bakugou scoffs indignantly, but he’s ignored as Kirishima continues with his list, “You have to kiss me good luck before the big exams, too. And before we go on patrol. Oh! I wonder if Fat Gum would let you patrol with us, sometime!”

“You wanna be the one to ask Endeavor?” Bakugou retorts.

“Oh. No.” He feels Kirishima shake his head before he turns down and kisses Bakugou’s forehead. It’s so sweet and domestic and it’s a gesture that Bakugou doesn’t recall ever experiencing before. It makes him feel warm and he picks his head up to press a lingering kiss to Kirishima’s lips instead.

“I will, maybe, do some of that,” he says, knowing full well that he will do all of it if it means Kirishima will keep smiling like this at him, about him, for him, because of him.

“Can I tell everyone that you’re my boyfriend?” Kirishima asks, brushing a gentle hand through Bakugou’s spikes.

Wow. He really likes the sound of that. Kirishima’s. His. Boyfriend. Which also means, Bakugou’s, mine. It means he’s Kirishima’s and Kirishima is Bakugou’s. He doesn't mind being someone's if that someone is Kirishima.

“…yeah,” he agrees, nodding.

The smile. Yeah, that’s what he wanted to see.

“Can I call you Katsuki now?”

“You’re a menace.”

“You can call me Eijirou.”

“Get out.”

Bakugou isn’t sure how long they stay in his bed. They switch between kissing and talking for hours, and he knows it’s getting late because he’s exhausted and falling asleep on Kirishima’s shoulder. He vaguely realizes that he never studied more, which means Kirishima didn’t either. But they were distracted. He’ll make them study tomorrow and hold kissing hostage until Kirishima passes his practice exams.

To avoid Aizawa’s wrath, Kirishima eventually picks himself up to leave and Bakugou finds himself following him to the door. More lingering kisses by the door and Kirishima complains that he doesn’t want to leave and makes another joke about a to-do list. Bakugou pushes him out by his shoulders, Kirishima cackling and holding up his hands in surrender.

“Goodnight Katsuki,” he smiles, kissing him one more time as he leans back in the doorway.

“Goodnight,” Bakugou insists, mostly closing the door.

“Hm?” Kirishima hums, followed by another peck on the lips.

“Goodnight Eijirou,” he says again and receives a very triumphant look from his boyfriend. Fuck, he really likes that. Kirishima’s beaming like he’s won, but Bakugou doesn’t feel like he lost.

“I love you!”

“…yeah, yeah, you too. Go to sleep!”

It takes a few more tries, but he finally gets his door to close. He can practically see the heart emojis coming off of Kirishima as he leaves.

Finally, he collapses in bed, curling up under his blanket. He stares up at his ceiling blankly for a few minutes before he smiles, biting down on his lips to try to stop it. Then he finds himself laughing quietly, barely a breath and mostly out of his nose, but he’s laughing and he’s so happy.

No. No, he doesn’t hate this at all.

#kiribaku #bnha #bakugou katsuki #Kirishima Eijirou #uraraka ochako #kaminari denki #boku no hero academia #my hero academia #mha #p: my writing #ff: bnha

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restlessfandoming · 3 years

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“the president and the troublemaker” (part 3) (chilumi fic)

“Lumine is the student council president and Childe is the school’s number one troublemaker. They cross paths more than they’d like. Especially when Childe finds out Lumine’s big secret. Highschool AU à la Kaichou wa Maid-sama.”

[part 1] [part 2]

hello sorry for the wait my brain just be straight up farting sometimes

[Fic Masterlist] // [AO3 Link]

the president and the troublemaker (part 3)

When Lumine woke up, she was back in her bed at home, with Aether taking a damp towel off her head. The morning sunlight shined in through the window.

“Did I sleep through the entire night?” Lumine asked, her voice hoarse.

Aether hummed out a ‘yes.’ “I think your body was absolutely exhausted.” He sighed sitting down next to the bed. “Sis, you have to stop overworking yourself; I worry—we all worry.”

She gave a small nod. “I know. And I’m sorry.”

“Just take the day off to relax, okay? I promise the whole world isn’t going to blow up.” He stood up. “Also, mind telling me why Childe of all people brought you back here?” he asked, eyeing Lumine’s hands.

She hadn’t even realized it; her hands were set atop a red scarf—Childe’s red scarf—and only then did she vaguely remember him wrapping it around her as he carried her home. Clutching it, she answered, “About that...he may or may not have found out I’m Outlander.”

Aether’s eyes widened. “He found out? And he didn’t tell the whole school?”

“I’m surprised as well. He actually seems...nicer ever since he found out.”

“Maybe he’s trying to mooch off your earnings. Or blackmail you.”

“See, I thought that too, but he hasn’t done any of those things.” She gripped the scarf again. “In fact, he offered to be my coach.”

“Your coach? What, he does the underground fighting too?”

Lumine shrugged. “I don’t know. Apparently he has ‘connections.’”

“Are you going to accept?”

She looked out the window. “I told him, ‘no.’”

Aether silently regarded her, looking like he wanted to say something, but then shook his head. “Well, remember to relax today. Your work has been taken care of, so just take it easy, okay?”

He left the room, and Lumine turned onto her side, eyes cast out the window. Without thinking, she brought Childe’s scarf up to her nose, breathing in. She was caught off guard as the scent of salty beach shores filled her senses.

Her face flushed and she thought, How do I even pay him back?

* * *

Lumine pushed open the door to the school’s rooftop, taking in a breath of the gentle breeze floating by. Sitting near the edge of the roof was Childe, his orange hair ruffling slightly in the wind. Lumine took a moment to observe him; he looked so serene, and suddenly Xiangling’s words intruded into her mind: He’s so handsome.

“So, Pres, did you call me up here just to stare at me, or did you actually want something?” he asked, not even turning towards her.

Lumine felt a vein pop out on her forehead, and she proceeded to stomp towards him. “I was not staring,” she argued. “Here.” She harshly held out a little paper bag which contained Childe’s red scarf.

His eyebrow raised an inch, and he took the bag. “You could have just left this in my locker, you know?”

“Why do you have to make everything I do so difficult?”

A chuckle. “I’m just teasing you, Pres. Thank you for returning it.”

She gave him a stiff nod, then sat down next to him. “I...I also wanted to say thank you. For helping me.”

Childe tilted his head, regarding her curiously.

Before he could say anything, she continued, gazing out at the city. “And thank you for not telling anyone. I don’t know why, but really—thank you for not saying anything.”

From the corner of her eye, she saw his lips turn upwards in a small smile. “Of course. Wouldn’t want anyone else enjoying our little secret, now would I?”

“This is fun to you?” she grumbled.

“Very much so.”

Lumine sighed. “Anyways, I don’t like to be indebted to people, and I couldn’t think of a way to pay you back—so please think of something.”

“In that case…,” he said almost instantaneously.

“You already have something in mind?”

He leaned towards her. “Let me be your coach.”

...

...Of course he would say that.

* * *

“And you’re sure Childe is trustworthy?” Aether asked Lumine as they walked through the bustling city of Snezhnaya, located in the next city over from their hometown of Mondstadt.

Lumine readjusted the strap of her gym bag on her shoulder. “I mean...he hasn’t said anything yet, right? And anyways,” she muttered, “I owe him for saving me.”

Aether frowned, crossing his arms. “I guess you’re right…It’s just...He’s been a constant pain in your ass for the better part of your council career, and now he just suddenly wants to be your best friend?”

“He’s not going to be my best friend. Maybe he just felt sorry that I have to do all this for the sake of money, so he’s helping us out,” Lumine tried to reason. “If he’s my coach, we’ll get better conditions and pay.”

Her twin nodded, looking around at the modern, high-rise buildings surrounding them. “Snezhnaya is really a rich city, isn’t it?”

“I guess that’s a good sign.” Lumine stopped in front of a building labeled “Zapolyarny Palace.” She glanced down at the business card Childe had given her. “I think this is it: the gym he told me to go to.”

The two of them took in the building before them: a gym with large windows through which they could see many members training intensely within. The building itself was made of sleek, silver materials, making the gym look like a glittering gem in the sunlight. Definitely an upgrade from the concrete basement of Kaeya’s establishment.

Lumine was first to climb the steps, Aether following closely behind her. She pushed open the heavy glass doors, and immediately noticed everyone inside watching her from the corner of their eyes.

“Lumi, these are some real scary looking people,” her twin whispered.

She nodded, but continued walking forward to the front desk. The receptionist looked up at her; her name tag read Ekaterina.

“How can I help you?” she asked. Her tone wasn’t friendly, but Lumine suspected that was the nicest the woman would sound.

“I was told to come here by a friend,” Lumine answered. “By, uhm, Tartaglia?”

Ekaterina looked her up and down, then stood. “Follow me.”

The three of them walked through the gym, heels clicking against the dark slate flooring. The gym was huge, all of the high-tech equipment greatly spaced out, machines Lumine hadn’t ever seen before.

The group made their way towards a boxing ring, elevated off the ground, and even from far away, Lumine could tell it was made from very expensive materials.

“Tartaglia is up ahead,” Ekaterina said, gesturing towards the boxing ring, then went back to her desk.

Currently, there were two people sparring in the ring. To her surprise, Lumine recognized them both.

“Is that...Kaeya? And Childe?” Aether asked.

Lumine didn’t even answer, finding herself speeding up to get closer and watch the fight.

She had only heard of Kaeya fighting from others in his arena, and that he was a fierce opponent due to his training in the military where he had actually been a high ranking captain. Childe, on the other hand, she had only seen in schoolyard scuffles, and never as an actual fighter in the ring. She was mesmerized by the two.

Kaeya’s moves were very sharp and sneaky, while Childe’s style was lighter and much faster—until he struck, which he did so with great force, like the sudden crashing of a powerful ocean wave. Despite the huge gap in years of experience, it seemed like Childe actually had the upper hand in the fight.

Childe threw a jab at Kaeya’s face, which the captain easily blocked. But then, Childe quickly switched his footing, twisting his body around to prep for a spinning heel kick to Kaeya’s unprotected side. As he turned, Lumine made eye contact with him for a split second.

His foot would have slammed into Kaeya’s face, but suddenly, Childe stopped short, his leg still in the air, foot hovering right by Kaeya’s face, who regarded the near hit with wide eyes. Stopping a powerful kick like that took a lot of strength, Lumine knew, and she could see it in the way the muscles were flexed in Childe’s leg.

“It was fun, captain, but it seems our guest is here,” Childe said, relaxing his leg and setting it down.

Kaeya let out a shaky laugh. “It was indeed fun. Though, it seems like I need to get back into proper shape; it’s been a while.”

Childe ducked under the ropes, sliding out onto the ground. “I look forward to that rematch then.” He picked up his water bottle and looked at Lumine. “You made it! Good job not getting lost.”

As he drank his water, Lumine couldn’t help but look him over, at his exceptionally well-toned body. Usually his long limbs were covered by their school uniforms, but now he wore a gray tank top with gray sports shorts. It didn’t help that he was practically glistening in sweat.

She cleared her throat. “So can you tell me why Kaeya is here?”

Her manager walked up to them, offering his signature smile. “Why wouldn’t I follow my dear Lumine to the next step in her career?”

“I invited him,” Childe said. “I figured you’d want to keep him around.”

He wasn’t wrong; it was nice that Kaeya was there as another familiar face. She wasn’t really sure what to expect from Childe now.

“I see you brought a guest as well,” Childe noted, his blue eyes on Aether.

Aether subtly put his hands on his hips, defensively. “I’m Aether. Her twin.”

The ginger tilted his head. “Ah, the Vice-President. How cute.”

“Okay, so you’re my coach,” Lumine said. “Now what?”

He held out his hand. “Where’s your Outlander mask?��

Lumine blinked at him, but then pulled the mask out, handing it over. He flipped it over in his hands, then chucked it behind him. Both her and Aether gasped.

“You won’t need it anymore,” Childe said.

Lumine glared at him. “What do you mean, I won’t need it anymore?”

“Are you trying to get her arrested?” Aether spat.

Childe held up his hands. “Relax. The reason I wanted you to join me is because we’re no longer going to have you fighting illegally. So no need for the mask.”

Kaeya nodded. “Yup. We’re bringing you into the world of legitimacy.”

Lumine crossed her arms. “Kaeya, you know the reason I came to you in the first place. You get me way more money, much faster, than any legitimate competition. Especially at the beginner levels.”

“And that’s why you’re here now,” Childe interjected. “Fighting here will give you even more money without having to worry about the cops busting in and arresting you one day.”

“What if people from school find out?”

“No one from our school is going to come here to Snezhaya, much less to a gym.”

Lumine and Childe stared at each other, unyielding.

“Excuse us,” Kaeya said, pulling Lumine and Aether away from Childe.

“Kaeya, you know it’s dangerous for her not to be in a disguise,” Aether hissed.

“It was dangerous when she was fighting in my arena,” Kaeya said. He put a hand on Lumine’s shoulder. “Look, Childe is trying to help you, not hurt you. He knows you need that money, and that you’re good at this. He, like the rest of us, doesn’t want to see you get arrested for just trying to help your family out.”

Lumine bit her lip. “What makes him so qualified though?” She turned towards Kaeya. “You guys are always talking about his ‘connections,’ but you haven’t really talked about who he is in this community.”

“All you have to know is that, despite you guys being close in age, he is a known professional in this field. He’s fought and won many competitions.” He sighed. “I mean you saw him earlier: he almost handed my ass to me in that little spar. And I was a captain in the military.”

Aether sighed as well. “Lumi...as much as I dislike Childe...I think they’re right. I’ve always worried about you in those illegal fights. You’ll be safer here.”

As scary as it was that she was no longer concealing her identity, a part of her relished at the freedom. And they were all right. It was safer here, down this road.

Lumine nodded before leading them back to Childe. She stood in front of him, arms crossed. “When do we start?”

* * *

[part 4]

#genshin impact #genshin tartaglia #genshin childe #genshin lumine #lumine #childe #Tartaglia #childe x lumine #lumine x childe #chilumi #lumichilde #genshin impact fanfiction #fanfiction #fanfic #me

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katyamorrigan · 3 years

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‘A Hotel on the Board is Worth Two on the Geldstraat’ - Chp. 1!

Gang banner by @verdiris

A Hotel on the Board is Worth Two on the Geldstraat

A trunk of contraband items ends up in the hands of the Crows, but the item that piques their curiosity most is the large box labelled “MONOPOLY”. Kaz is out of the Slat for the time being, so of course they decide to play it. Was there ever a mission more likely to fail than six criminals with lethal skills and undeniable emotional ties all trying to build a make-believe empire without killing each other in the process? Answer: yes - all of the above while attempting to pull off a heist at the same time.

Turns out board games weren’t the only interesting items shipped into Fifth Harbour that afternoon, and now the Razorgulls are interested. It will take all of the gang’s effort to break into two buildings full of rival gang members, regain possession of the contraband, and make it back to the Slat in one piece. And that’s without the inherent strains of playing at business negotiations with a group of decidedly underhand friends.

Join the Crows as they cheat, steal, lie, and bribe each other, all before the heist has even begun.

I am so excited to finally get to share the fic that I have been working on for the @grishaversebigbang over the last few months - A Hotel on the Board is Worth Two on the Geldstraat! Getting to take part in the Grishaverse Big Bang 2021 has been so much fun, and I have had the honour of working with an absolutely incredible gang of artists and the loveliest beta reader. It’s been an absolute blast, and this is one of my favourite things that I’ve written. Thank you so much to everyone that I’ve worked with, and I hope that you enjoy reading and admiring the story and art that we’ve created!

Here is everyone in my gang, with links to the work that they’ve created (some art may relate to chapters of the fic that haven’t been posted yet - the fic will be posted in its entirety within the next 3 weeks and the art will be linked within the fic on the relevant lines, but also there’s nothing that will spoil the story for you, so don’t worry!):

Corporalki: @davonysus (who is the most wonderful beta reader, thank you for everything that you contributed to this story!)

Materialki:

@ciph3rrr with hilarious Crows-minus-Kaz Monopoly shenanigans from Chapter 1

@j-wirth with this brilliant Inej and Wesper moment inspired by Chapters 2 and 7

@bloodysusher with a gorgeous group moment in Chapter 7

@verdiris with some amusing Kaz geniusness from Chapter 7

@maximumbluebirdpatrol (link still to come)

@emmaxtw (link still to come)

There are 7 chapters in total, so I shall be uploading a new one every Tuesday and Saturday until 25th September. Look below the cut for an excerpt from Chapter 1, and if you want to read the full thing (and check out the collection of all the other incredible pieces created for the GVBB) then click either of the links. I hope that you enjoy!

AHOTBIWTOTG Chapter 1 Excerpt:

The front door of the Slat opened with a loud clatter, and slammed shut on itself seconds later. It made Inej jump in her seat as she sat going over ship documentation - which, as it turned out, there was a lot of - in the front room. Nina gave her a look, and Inej wrinkled her nose back at her; the Wraith didn’t startle easily, but equally, there was usually less banging of doors while she tried to organise her finances.

“Honeys, I’m home!” Came Jesper’s voice. “And I brought treats!”

“It had better be more exciting than that time you came back from Cilla’s Fry with meat pies,” Inej called back. “That was underwhelming.”

“Speak for yourself,” Nina chimed in. “I was more than happy to finish up those.”

“We know.” Matthias gave her a knowing look, and Wylan sniggered as she raised a single finger at him in response.

The bickering that came from everyone trying to work on separate projects at the same time was one of the many reasons that Inej hadn’t made it past the first page of her sailing license. That being said, she joined in the chuckling at Nina’s expense.

“Oh, it’s definitely better than Cilla’s pies, but you’ll have to take a look for yourself.”

Jesper rounded the corner, a large trunk tucked under one slim arm. His face was bright from the brisk, cold air of the streets, and a bead of sweat dropped from his chin as he deposited the luggage on the table beside Inej. She sighed heavily as the wad of pages in front of her jumped with the sudden extra weight.

“Sorry,” Jesper grinned. She just rolled her eyes fondly in response.“Come on, who wants to see what I’ve got?”

Nina, Matthias and Wylan all got up from the neighbouring table and crowded around Inej and Jesper. It was uncomfortable having so many significantly taller people stood behind her while she was sitting, so Inej scooped up her papers and deposited them on the floor, taking their place on the table so that she could get a good look at the trunk.

“Where did you get that?” Matthias asked.

“Well, our dearest Kaz decided to put me on shipment duty and I had to wait around at the Exchange for a boat full of contraband to come in. It took hours, so as soon as I saw something that looked interesting, I used my innumerable skills to swipe it so that we could take a look inside.”

““Innumerable” is a long word for you,” Nina quipped.

A bubble of laughter rose up amongst the group, and Jesper stuck his tongue out childishly. “Fine, no contraband for you.”

“No, I want to look!”

“Be nice, then. I get first dibs on anything cool because I found it.”

Matthias snorted. “What happened to the ancient rule of “finder’s keepers”?”

“I found the trunk, therefore I found anything that’s inside it by proxy.”

“Can we just open it up?” Wylan said impatiently. “I feel like we’re building expectations by arguing like this – it’s probably smuggled whiskey or something.”

“Shouldn’t we wait for Kaz?” Inej asked. The others gave her a look of incredulity. “Where is he, anyway?”

There was a brief moment of looking at each other for answers, before Jesper answered decisively. “If he was so worried about what came in on the boat, he would’ve gone himself. And if he isn’t here now, then he’ll just have to accept whatever is left over from the spoils.”

“We aren’t actually pirates, you know,” Inej said.

“Not yet,” Jesper stage-whispered in reply, and Inej found herself grinning, pleased. “Gather around, then.” He beckoned everyone closer like a ringmaster at the centre of a performance.

Inej was surprised to find that her heart was actually beating faster with the thought of what might be inside. Wylan was probably right that they were getting themselves worked up over nothing, but all the same, she couldn’t help hoping that they found something rare or exciting. Perhaps it was gold? Guns? Something dangerous? You could never know when it came to the imports of Ketterdam, and for once Inej was glad for the intensity of life in the city. It could very well be something extraordinary.

The catches on the front of the trunk lifted easily, but there was a thick knot of string around the middle as well. Jesper struggled to untie it, so Inej slipped a knife from her sleeve and cut it off with one flick of her wrist. Giving her a mischievous look, Jesper dug his fingernails under the lid and with a crackle of flaking rust, the trunk opened.

On top there was a loose gauzy scarf clearly intended to keep moisture out of the trunk on the long sea voyage, which had definitely served its purpose; the red print had blotted itself onto the inside of the lid, and there were water stains on it where it had protected the rest of the cargo. Matthias and Nina went to grab it at the same time, but it ended up in Nina’s hands regardless as he passed it to her with a shy smile.

“I thought you would want it, so I was making sure no-one else got there first.”

Wylan made an exaggerated gagging noise, and Matthias’ expression quickly reverted to his familiar scowl.

“Aha!”

Jesper reached forward and pulled out two pistols, both only a little rusty and with a single blue gem stamped into the body of each. With impressive speed he turned around and mimed firing two shots at the wall before holstering them beside his favoured revolvers.

As Matthias pulled out a slim soft-covered book, Inej realised that she was far too focused on the discoveries of her friends and was going to miss out on finding her own treasures otherwise. Lifting up two more scarves – this time green and blue – she found another couple of books which she handed to Nina. Her friend’s focus was pulled away from adjusting her hair under her newly matching scarf to flicking through the pages and wrinkling her nose hard.

“I don’t recognise the language, but I can understand it well enough,” Nina mused.

“Where did the boat come in from, Jesper?” Wylan asked as he opened a small wooden keepsake box full of golden rings in varying levels of ornate decoration.

“Kaz didn’t say, and I’ll be honest, I didn’t pay much attention.”

Nina tutted and continued her reading with Matthias peering over her shoulder. With fingers now covered in rings, Wylan pulled out a long fur coat that smelt of mould. Removing its furry cuffs from the case, Inej reached into the trunk for what seemed to be the last item: a big box made of thick card, with a green cover and the word MONOPOLY emblazoned on the top. The lettering was incredibly clear, but it didn’t look as though it had been done by hand or with a printing press. It had an odd shiny feel to the outside as well, like it had been coated in order to keep out the damp.

Inej sat it on the table and lifted the lid. It came off easily, and revealed a large square of that same thick card in bright red that unfolded into a larger board with regular markings on it.

“What in the Saints’ names is that?” Nina remarked, putting down her reading material.

“I have no idea. It was at the bottom of the trunk.”

“Is it a map?” Wylan suggested.

“Doesn’t look like it,” Inej murmured as she put the board down and looked at what was left in the box.

Underneath that map-like object was a tray divided into several compartments, with little silver tokens collected in one, some colourful playing cards of an unknown variety in another, and some appealing little houses done in an unusual material in both green and red. Beside those lay a rack of what looked like currency, in the same shape and thickness as notes of kruge. Jesper immediately started rifling through it all, mixing up the various collections and inspecting them all with irregular attention. Although Wylan slapped his hand away with a tut, it clearly wasn’t out of lack of interest.

“What is it?” Nina asked again. Taking the board in her hands, she began to stumble through the words written on it.

“Collect 200… something, looks like it could be a currency symbol because it says “salary” after that, as you pass GO... Old Kent Road, another amount of money… sixty? Community chest, Whitechapel Road, same amount of money as the other square…”

As she turned it over in her hands, a slim white booklet fell out onto the table. Inej started forward and managed to snatch it up before anyone else did, although the gesture was useless as she immediately handed it to Nina, who skimmed over the first few lines and let out a delighted noise.

“It’s a game! A board game! Seems like you play by going around the board which has place names marked out on it, and you buy up the land so that you can build houses on it. And you compete to earn the most money.”

“Who’s sending weird foreign board games to Ketterdam?” Wylan said incredulously. “Are you sure it’s not got something contraband hidden in there somehow?”

Inej laughed. “Does a game based on financial gain not strike you as the most Kerch thing in the world? I can well believe a mercher bought this to educate their children on the fun of working under Ghezen.”

Wylan cracked a grin at that, and Nina snorted. She pushed the box towards him.

“Take a look if you want.”

He lifted up the tray of items and ran his fingers along the underside, then looked inside each of the little model houses as if there might be gemstones wedged in the base like on Jesper’s guns. Wylan tapped along the top of the board, but there were no hidden compartments or secret openings. It seemed as though they had genuinely come across some kind of entertainment from another country.

“Shall we play it?” Jesper said with a broad grin at everyone. “We’ve got nothing else on, have we?”

“I’m meant to have applied for my sailing license by the end of next week,” Inej said weakly, but she wasn’t much interested in her own excuse. This bizarre-looking game they had stolen by chance had already caught her attention far more than boat permits and crew-hiring documents.

“I’m happy to,” Matthias said, and Nina and Wylan nodded fervently as well.

“Perfect! Let’s not disturb everyone’s things down here, we can take it into another room.”

“Nobody’s bedrooms are big enough,” Nina complained. “Kaz is too cheap to give us enough space to actually enjoy our stay at The House of Brekker.”

“His bedroom is, though.”

33 notes · View notes

tteokggukk · 4 years

Text

all an act → ksj

✳ pairing: acting major! seokjin x acting major reader, basically they’re both acting majors

✳ genre: enemies to lovers, fluff, college au

✳ warnings: swearing, copulation is implied (not written), just PG-13

✳ words: 10.6k

✳ a/n: I’M SO EXCITED FOR THIS ONE i’ve had this idea on my mind longer than my published stuff so far. i also didn’t think this would even reach 10k+ words, i initially thought it’d only be ~5k but my hand kept slipping and slipping and 10k happened. anyways, enjoy reading! and again, if you’d like to send some comments (esp on things i can do to improve), don’t hesitate to comment or send an ask!

"How many years is it gonna take for you to finish writing a sentence?" You sighed and began tapping on your foot. You were sitting in one of tables outside to finish a short paper about a film your professor tasked you to watch with a partner. Normally you were fine working with anyone, and even if it was individual work you'd have no problem getting it done in no time. However, today was different. You almost wanted to tear your hair out and scream for as long as you could until this was all over.

You didn't expect Kim Seokjin to be your partner this time.

"When you stop acting like a priss, that's when," Seokjin rolled his eyes as he typed out the remaining sentences of your "collaborative" effort. You wouldn't even call it collaborative unless it meant having to argue about several different points of a story just to piece a whole paper together. You rolled your eyes and clicked your tongue, muttering a "Looks who's talking," underneath your breath.

For the whole year you survived not being partners with him and you thought you'd be able to get away with it, until your professor stopped allowing people to choose partners and started assigning them instead. You desperately hoped this was the last time you'd ever be partnered with someone you loathed.

You were both acting majors and were well known as two of the most top performing students in your batch, but you never got along well. When you respectfully asked your professor why he paired you with him in hopes of trying to get out of it, he started talking to you about both of your “potentials” and “how much better it'd be for the two of you to work together”.

"Here. I'm done," he pushes your laptop away from him and towards you, "Can I leave?"

"We still have to print and pass this," you told him through gritted teeth.

"And you need me for that? Wow, I'm almost flattered," He snickers before standing up and grabbing his bag.

"I'm so glad you aren't."

Slamming your laptop shut, you trudged ahead to the library to have the paper printed, moving slightly faster to avoid having to talk to (or argue with) Seokjin. You didn't have the energy to keep bickering, you were just glad this paper was over and you'd never have to talk to each other again.

You stood next to Seokjin, making sure there was distance between you two as your professor, Mr. Brown, began silently reading your work.

So far so good, he was nodding and smiling as he mouthed the words on the paper, making only a few marks on every other page.

All you needed to do was wait for him to announce your grade and you could both go your separate ways. Why couldn't time move any faster? You began counting the seconds to save yourself from boredom, but also to keep your eyes away from your partner.

"Wow, this is…" Mr. Brown spoke, breaking the silence.

"Yes?" You and Seokjin both asked in unison before glaring at each other for a millisecond.

"Unexpected," Mr. Brown says as he places your paper in front of you.

"Sir?" Your right eye narrows as you call in confusion. What does he mean?

"Unexpected. I thought for sure bringing you two together would produce a well-thought paper, but… this is terrible."

Terrible.

You felt your heart sink. No one has ever called your paper terrible. In fact, most of your papers almost always had good comments and praises and perfect marks, how could this have happened? You even made sure to check everything thrice before finalizing everything.

"What?" Seokjin exclaimed, "What do you mean our paper's terrible?"

"It lacks unity. Your opposing ideas are all over the place, I can tell you tried to link them, but you failed at it," Mr. Brown sighs in disappointment before taking his glasses off to breathe deeply, "You're aware of how many points this paper is, yes?"

"Yes," you and Seokjin spoke nervously.

"And you know only one submission is allowed, yes?"

"Yes," you both answered.

"You know where I'm getting at, right?"

You swallow nervously before speaking up, "Sir, can't we revise it and pass it again? We'll just tweak some of the—"

"I'm afraid you can't. You know the rules very well, Ms. Y/L/N," Mr. Brown shook his head. You sighed, feeling defeated.

"You both clearly have problems working together. Teamwork is part of the criteria, you know," Mr. Brown stood up to sit on the edge of his desk, "You're both our top performing students. I can understand how much your grades mean to you, but did you not consider how your differences could affect your output?"

"Is there any way we can get some extra credit to make up for this paper?" Seokjin asks. You felt a little relieved at his question as you were already feeling too nervous to ask any more.

Mr. Brown looked around in thought, "Well, there is a way I suppose. Some of the upperclassmen under my class are creating a short film and they need extra actors for their project. If you'd like to help them out, I'll give your paper full marks and add some extra points to your other outputs. It might be too taxing for you though."

"No! It's alright, could you give us their names so we can talk to them?" You asked. Mr. Brown nodded and began writing something down on a piece of paper before handing it over to you.

"I wish you two the best of luck. And please try to get along." Mr. Brown says before you and Seokjin excuse yourselves out of the room.

"What do you know? Even our papers show we don’t work together well," Seokjin mutters as you two rushed to find those seniors you needed to work with, "I could've passed if I just had the right partner."

"You're blaming me?" You couldn't believe it, the audacity, "I would've gotten perfect marks even if I wrote that paper with my eyes closed."

Seokjin laughs, "Yeah, okay. You might not have even gotten any marks if you weren't with me."

"You know, my expectations for you were low, but holy fuck," You snickered, "This is the first time I've ever gotten a comment like that on an output. I don't think you being my partner this time around was a coincidence.”

"Oh yeah? If you had just agreed to add my opinion on—"

Just as Seokjin began leaning in to you to defend his ideas, you turned around to face him, abruptly stopping his speech, "Could you just shut up and walk while we look for the guy on this paper?" Your blood was boiling at the sound of his voice, all you wanted to do was get this over with.

The two of you continued searching rooms with Seokjin following behind until you reached the room with the door number your professor had written down. You stared at the piece of paper and looked at the door, hesitating to knock.

"Give me that," Seokjin took the paper from your hand and quickly knocked before letting himself in as you followed.

"Hello, is Oliver Beck here?" Seokjin asked and everyone around stared, making you feel a bit uncomfortable. A guy with long hair wearing a plaid shirt came forward, "That's me, what is it?"

"Hi, we're students from Mr. Brown's class and we were wondering if we could participate as extras in your short film? He says we need the extra credit," Seokjin explained.

Oliver looks confused. "Extras? We've already got that covered," he says, "We need main actors."

"Main actors?" You asked.

"Yeah, no one has agreed to do it yet, but we've already asked some to—"

"We'll do it," Seokjin cuts him off, causing Oliver to raise his brows in surprise.

"You will?"

"Yeah, we really need the credit."

"Are you sure? You haven't seen the script yet," Oliver asks hesitantly.

"Positive. We'll do our best," You spoke.

"Er— alright then, follow me," Oliver motioned for the two of you to walk along. You and Seokjin couldn't help but send each other mutual confused expressions.

Neither of you knew what you were getting into. How bad could the film be that no one has agreed to do it?

Oliver pulls out two copies of what seemed to be scripts from his bag and hands them to the two of you, "Here. It's pretty short, so it shouldn't take long to memorize."

The script wasn't as thick as you thought it would be, so you decide to flip through pages to see what some of the scenes were like. Seokjin just stares at the title on the front page.

"I don't mean to pressure you but we start filming next month, so I'd start practicing if I were you," Oliver announces, "Anyways, I'd better get back to my friends. Send me your numbers so I can contact you guys for details."

After exchanging names and numbers with Oliver and a few of his group mates for the project, you and Seokjin finally left the room.

"Why do you think no one agreed to film with them?" Seokjin asks. You didn't exactly think you were both on friendly-conversation-terms, but the same question did linger in your mind.

"I don't know. Why? Are you backing out?" You asked mockingly.

"If there's anyone between us who'd back out from this, I'm pretty damn sure it wouldn't be me," He scoffs.

"You know, if we had just done that paper properly we wouldn't be stuck here doing some film that I don't even know," You sighed angrily.

"God, get over it. You should be glad you're even part of this extra credit thing. Technically I was the one who asked about it," Seokjin grunts.

"I am so close to taking this script and stabbing you with it," You glared at him.

Before you two parted ways, you both agreed to meet tomorrow at an empty rehearsal room to practice some of the scenes. You didn't know how this was even going to work, you blamed the whole thing on the paper even though you knew it was both your faults. How would starring in a film make up for everything if your paper couldn't even save you both?

You hung around in your dorm for the rest of the day to read through the script. A few hours later, Courtney, your best friend and roommate, arrived.

"I got your texts," she said a little too loudly as she entered, "Seriously? You're filming with Kim Seokjin?"

You let out a groan as you fell back on your bed with the script covering your face, "Ugh, I know! Can you believe my luck?"

"You know if any other girl had the chance, they'd thank all the gods right about now," Courtney laughed as she lied down on your bed, "I'm sorry about your paper though."

She was right. Seokjin was incredibly liked by everyone. He was the kind of person that exuded this welcoming aura, like you could easily be friends with him. Even people from other classes knew him. He always had that bright smile when it came to others. It was just different with you.

"It's fine. I didn't think our hate for each other would be reflected on our paper," you sighed, "And now I have to meet him tomorrow just to practice, ugh."

"You're meeting tomorrow?" Courtney raises a brow. You nod disappointingly.

"Well," Courtney sighed in annoyance, "Make sure he even gets there. If he stands you up again, I won't hesitate to beat the shit out of—"

You laughed, "Please, Court. He'll have to come this time. He's the one who got us into this."

"Yeah he'd better. Listen, call me immediately if he doesn't, okay? Wouldn’t hurt to give him a piece of my mind."

Ranting about Seokjin left you feeling ravenous, and it didn’t take long before you two decided to leave the room to grab some food from the cafeteria and talk about your day. When you both got back, you headed for bed and began reading the script, mouthing some of the lines to familiarize yourself with everything.

Not even a few pages later and you felt your mind wandering off as your eyes rolled back, feeling yourself drift away with the script falling off your bed as you fell into a deep sleep.

Seokjin was a few minutes late in the rehearsal room but you decided to let it slide since you two had to be on good terms to make this practice work. Based on what you've read so far; the story was about friends who've had feelings for each other for so long but couldn't do anything about it in fear of ruining their friendship. Generic, you thought.

"I'd say sorry for being late, but it's only you waiting," Seokjin says as he enters the room and drops his bag on the floor.

"I'd say no problem, I didn't wait long, but you're an imbecile that probably made me wait on purpose," You faked a smile before quickly turning back to a stern expression, "Did you read the script?"

"Just halfway," He says and pulls his copy of the script out from his bag, "Did you?"

"Same," you muttered, "So, let's start with the first scene?"

For the first thirty minutes you two had agreed to sit down and rehearse your lines. You were both good at reciting the dialogues, it almost seemed like you were professionals. You thought there wouldn't be any problems when it came to actually acting out the scenes until you both finally had to practice with delivery, you both sucked.

"What is so hard about not being stiff?" Seokjin exclaims.

"I am not stiff! You're just not moving that close to me!" You retorted, crossing your arms in defense.

"You know what? We've been going at this scene for an hour now and nothing looks right," Seokjin sighs.

"Of course nothing looks right, it's our first time practicing together. I've literally never done a scene with you before," You sat down on the floor and ran your fingers through your hair.

You'd think two top performing students would have a piece of cake acting out simple scenes with perfect chemistry, but you and Seokjin were far from it.

"We've never been partners before?" He asks, sitting down in front of you.

"No, never. And I honestly thought it'd stay that way," You grumbled.

"God, you talk as if this was my fault," Seokjin glares at you, "If we were the last people on Earth and had to do that paper again, I hope you know I'd rather choose a monkey than work with you."

"Why? Because great minds think alike?" You fought back.

"It's a well-known fact those animals have bigger brains than you do."

I swear to God, hold me back or I am gonna hurt him so bad.

"Why don't we just practice reading the lines and act them out tomorrow?" You suggested politely with a smile that was so painfully forced.

And so that was what you did for the next two hours, only rehearsing the first half of the film. That was what you did for the next two days, but the problem was though you two did sound great in dialogue, your act wasn't close to it.

Jin had a secret.

He's been keeping it for months now, and only his best friend, Yoongi, knew about it.

He didn't actually know why you two hated each other so much. He had no idea why you hated him at all. He just started going along with it until it became a habitual thing, but as to why this all started he had absolutely no clue.

"She's nice to me," Yoongi spoke as he shoved another potato in his mouth.

"She's nice to everyone," Jin added.

"Everyone but you," Yoongi laughed.

"I think the reason why you two can't get your scenes right is because you act like you hate each other," Yoongi told Jin as they ate their lunch, "Why don't you just ask her why she hates you so much?"

"I can't, she thinks I have a reason. It wouldn't make sense if I asked her," Jin shrugged, "It's kinda fun though, bickering with her. I just don't understand why."

Yoongi raised a brow, "Fun? Hold on, you're not…"

"It's not whatever you're thinking," Jin rolled his eyes, earning him a smirk from Yoongi.

"Right," Yoongi spoke, "What are you gonna do about your practice? Hasn't it been like, two weeks?"

"Yeah, and we're nowhere near done," Jin sighs, "Speaking of which, I have to go meet her now."

"Sounds like a date," Yoongi teased.

"I will hit you with this script," Jin warns him before taking his bag and muttering goodbye.

He hurriedly walked to the rehearsal room and checked his watch, he was late again today. Jin was sure he'd earn another lecture from you and how he lacked punctuality and that they'd never get anything done if he never arrived on time. Today he brought ear plugs, and before walking in he made sure to put them on before entering the room.

There was no noise.

It took him a minute to find you lying down on the floor on the side of the room, using your bag as a pillow. You were sleeping soundly as you clutched your script in your hand with earphones plugged in.

Jin closed the door behind him and quietly sat down in front of you. He watched as you slept peacefully, hair strands falling on your face.

You're pretty, Jin thought. You always have been attractive to him, and kind to others-- but it was always a different case when it came your relationship with him, or lack thereof. Without thinking, he found himself reaching out for your face, tucking the strands of hair behind your ear.

You opened your eyes and saw Jin sitting in front of you, his hand close to your face. His eyes widen and he quickly moves back, his ears turning red.

"What are you doing?" You asked, pulling your earphones out of your ears.

What was he doing? You hated each other. Was he not thinking straight for a moment just because you looked so peaceful and harmless while you slept? Was he forgetting how much you hated his guts?

"There was a bug," he lied and quickly stood up, shyly turning away from you.

That was odd. I could've sworn…

"Okaaay," You spoke awkwardly and stood up, rubbing your eyes to get rid of any eye crusts that may have formed while you were sleeping, "Whatever, let's practice."

You had to admit though, your practices were getting better. There was less banter and more productive work and you couldn't help but feel like a huge weight off your chest has just been lifted. Oddly enough, there were less insults coming from both sides and subtler, masked compliments.

"You know for a monkey, you're doing pretty well," Seokjin teased, causing you to roll your eyes but smile anyway.

"You can just say I'm talented, don't be shy," you joked, making him chuckle a bit.

It was awkward though, being "nice" to each other. With Seokjin, you were more used to insults and arguments rather than trying hard at compliments. At the same time, it felt kind of nice to know that it was possible to have more to your "relationship" rather than constantly fighting.

By the time you two had finished practicing, it was already dark out. You both sat on the floor for a good ten minutes before standing up and deciding to leave.

"Hey, Monkey, it's dark outside," Seokjin spoke, breaking the silence between you two.

"Yeah, I know," you replied. You were already used to going home alone in the dark, so you figured him trying to scare you wouldn't make any difference.

"How far is your dorm?" He asks.

"It's a twenty-minute walk, I guess," You tried not to sound surprised at his question, "Why?"

"Come on," he says and opens the door, "I'll walk you home." Seokjin turned all the lights off now, which thankfully hid his ears that were now red.

Your eyebrows were raised in shock as you stood there wondering if you heard him right.

"What are you doing standing there? Hurry up!" He called.

You stared in disbelief as you walked towards him, silently analyzing what food he must’ve had before practice that messed with his brain and made him nice all of a sudden. He closes the door behind you two and you both start walking.

It was silent. And awkward. And you were confused. Why was he suddenly being so nice? It felt so… weird.

"Are you sick?" You asked.

"No?" He looks at you, confused, "Why?"

"You're being nice," You said, a little too quietly.

"If something happened to you people would blame me because I was with you last," he explained quickly, "Plus, there are many animal abusers on the loose—"

"Oh, shut up, forget it," you shoved him lightly, holding back a smile as Seokjin laughed.

And then there was silence again.

"How do you wanna go about the last scene?" Seokjin asks out of nowhere.

The last scene? Oh, that scene.

It was your turn to turn pink now as you avoided trying to sound like the question bothered you. You tried your best to sound nonchalant as you answered.

"I don't know, just go with the flow, I guess…" you told him.

"When do you wanna practice?" He asks, sounding casual.

"Whenever you're ready," You muttered. Am I even ready?

When you finally got to your dorm, you contemplated whether or not you would say bye to him. While silently debating with yourself on what you should do as you stepped on the stairs leading to your building door, Seokjin beat you to whatever decision you might've made.

"I'll see you Monday, Monkey," Seokjin said, stopping in front of the first step.

"Thanks for walking with me, see ya," you said in a voice that sounded more monotone than you wanted it to be. Neither of you said anything else so you went ahead and walked in. Seokjin watched and finally left when you were no longer in sight.

The way he was acting today bothered you. Not in a bad way, you just didn't understand why he was being that way. Had something changed?

Once you entered your dorm room, you tried to fix your face into a normal one as you pushed your thoughts aside. Courtney immediately rushed over to you to ask you questions.

"You don't usually come home after dark, what took you so long?" She asked.

"I practiced with Seokjin, remember?" You spoke, carefully avoiding eye contact as you placed your bag on your chair.

"For this long?" She asks suspiciously.

"Yeah, we finally got some scenes right," you turned to face her as you plopped yourself onto your bed.

"About time," she sat on her chair, "Hey, will you go out with me tomorrow?"

"Ooooh, are you asking me out on a date?" You teased as Courtney rolled her eyes with a smile.

"No, at least not with me," she grins.

"Huh?" You asked, squinting one eye.

"Micara set me up on a blind date with someone on campus. Apparently they're bringing a friend so now it's a double blind date," she sighs.

"You agreed on a blind date? That's so sketchy," you commented, earning yourself a look from Courtney.

"Yeah, yeah, it's sketchy. I just did it for fun, Micara says he's really cute. I don't know about the friend, though."

"Cute is subjective."

"You have to come with me," Courtney pleads with puppy dog eyes.

"Courtney! No, ask someone else," you tried to shake your hand away from Courtney who was now holding onto your arm.

"It's gonna be so weird if I hang out with the two of them!"

"Well, that's what you get for saying yes to blind dates."

"Please! What if they actually are weirdos who want to take advantage of me?" She pouts. That did make you think twice. A smile begins to creep up on Courntey's lips, knowing you were about to say yes.

"You're lucky I love you," You sighed.

"Yes! Thank you so much, y/n," She pulls you in for a tight hug, "You won't regret coming with me."

The next time you saw Seokjin wasn't on Monday.

You saw him the next day. On the double date. In a movie theater.

Your heart nearly stopped.

At first you thought Courtney's date came alone and you almost made an excuse to leave, until Seokjin came carrying two bags of popcorn with him, almost dropping them when he saw you standing there.

"Monkey? What are you doing here?" Seokjin asked in shock.

"Do you two know each other?" Josh, Courtney's date, asks while taking one bag of popcorn.

"They hate each other," Courtney whispers to her date.

"You’re the friend?" You asked out loud.

"Before you two come for each other's necks, why don't we fall in line for the movie?" Courtney anxiously smiles as she and Josh begin to walk away to line up, leaving you and Seokjin staring at each other. The whole situation reminded you of that Spiderman meme.

Seokjin sighs and walks closer to you, "Guess I'm gonna have to stay with you."

"No one's forcing you to," you told him.

"Do you want me to leave then?" He challenges.

"I never asked you to come!" Your voice slightly raises in defense.

"Great, then!"

"Fine!"

But neither of you moved from where you stood. You just stared at each other, arms folded while Seokjin clutched onto the bag of popcorn. Finally, you let out a deep breath.

"I can't leave my friend," You spoke.

"So can I," He says, "Let's just fall in line."

Courtney and Josh were so far ahead now you could barely see their faces from where you were. Seokjin stood behind you in the line. Neither of you said anything.

There was a group of guys standing in front of you talking loudly to themselves. Suddenly you notice their voices turn down and they began whispering among themselves. You could've sworn you caught them stealing glances at you. The guy in front of you turns around to face you. You raise a brow.

"Hi, I'm Max," he introduces, "I couldn't help but notice you."

Well, duh. I'm right behind you.

"Oh, hello Max," You forced a polite smile.

"These are my friends," he motions at the group of guys behind him and they all wave, "You should join us."

Does he not know the tickets have assigned seats? Embarrassing.

"No, I really shouldn't," you tried to sound as friendly as possible to avoid any trouble, but the guy was persistent and he was beginning to annoy you.

"It's alright, we don't bite. Are you alone?" He asks, slowly moving closer while you tried to move back. This guy was extremely creepy.

"Uh—"

"She said no. Fuck off," You heard Seokjin speak up from behind you, his voice much deeper and more intimidating causing chills to run down your spine. It was different from the way he spoke to you whenever you would banter.

"I was talking to her, who even are you?" Max says rudely and glares at Seokjin.

"I'm the guy she came with. What's your deal?" Seokjin moves forward and places his hand on your shoulder to subtly move you away from the guy.

"Oh, yeah? I never saw you talking to her," Max challenges.

"I think she already said no once. How many times does she have to decline before you understand that no means no?" Seokjin crosses his arms. He was much taller than the creepy guy, who was obviously starting to become intimidated by him.

"Dude, back the fuck off. We were here first," Max spits. They were so close, you almost thought a fight was about to happen.

"Do you realize how stupid you sound?" Seokjin frowns. That was enough. People were beginning to stare so you held onto Seokjin's arm, "Seokjin, it's fine. Just stop talking to him."

"No, this guy is extremely disrespectful and creepy!" Seokjin's voice was a little too loud now, "You don't get to force girls you don't even know to stick with you and your friends. That is so close to predatory behavior," he points at the guy and people start backing away from him and his friends.

"She already said no once, you shouldn't try to peer pressure her into coming with you!" Seokjin says, "And she's not alone," he grabs your hand, taking you by surprise, "She came with me. Now screw off before I call security."

Max, along with his friends, were evidently scared of Seokjin now as they all glared at him and left. Your heart was beating fast from anticipating the worst out of the scenario, but Seokjin handled it pretty well. You were too shy to admit it, but he saved your ass today.

The two of you watched as the group of guys left, his hand still clutching onto yours. When they were gone, he looked down at you, "Are you okay?" He asks, concern evident in his voice.

You were at a loss for words. He defended you, and he's still holding onto your hand really right. This was the first time you've ever seen him truly concerned about you. You'd like to think you could've defended yourself as well, but the fact that Seokjin did it for you sent this warm feeling in your chest that you couldn't understand.

"Yeah. Fine," you spoke but it came out as a whisper. You cleared your throat, "Thanks. I really appreciate it."

"No problem," he gives you a small smile, "I don't suppose you still wanna watch this movie?"

"God, no, honestly," you laughed a bit, "I never wanted to."

He laughs and steps out of line and so do you, then he politely mentions the people behind you two to take your place. His hand was still holding yours, and you were beginning to wonder if he had noticed. You didn't let go, either.

"Let's hang out then," Seokjin blurts out. He tries to ignore the feeling of heat on his ears as he looks at you to wait for your response. You tried your hardest not to seem at all fazed.

"Sure."

Seokjin suggests going to an arcade, and so you did. When you got there, you both had to stand outside for ten minutes or so trying to finish the popcorn he bought because food and drinks weren't allowed inside.

"Why'd you buy such a big bag anyway? Were you planning on feeding the whole audience?" You tried to chew and swallow five at a time to hurry up.

"I thought the movie was gonna be boring, this was all I could do," Seokjin says defensively.

"At the rate we're eating this we're gonna get some kind of ulcer," You grumbled.

"You don't seem to be having a problem," he laughs and you playfully slap his arm.

Once you got in, you raced to one of those zombie shooting games. Seokjin was good at aiming and definitely had more kills than you did, but you couldn't help but laugh at how startled he got every time a jumpscare appeared.

"Look at all your deaths, you suck at this," he laughed while pointing at your score.

You blushed, "Ha-ha, funny. I bet you can't beat me at racing," you smirked, challenging him to a race.

"You're on," he grinned.

The two of you then proceeded to one of the car games and true enough, you beat him at it. He wasn't even close to being good. He hit every sidewalk and his car kept slowing down.

"Are you even driving? You might as well run if you even want a chance at winning," You teased as you continuously accelerated.

"How are you so good at this? Are you secretly part of those illegal street racers?" Seokjin was struggling with his car as he moved his steering wheel around.

When you were done racing, Seokjin spots one of those stuffed toy machines. "Do you want one?" He asks jokingly, not actually expecting you to say yes, though he didn't exactly mind getting one for you…

"No. Nuh-uh, that is so cheesy," you laughed and shook your head, "Let's play guitar hero."

It was difficult to admit it to yourself at first, but you were having so much fun with Seokjin. Of course, you two never stopped teasing each other with little insults, but now it felt so much more lighthearted. You started getting along well with him, it no longer felt awkward or forced.

Seokjin felt the same way. In fact, there were moments where he'd subconsciously find himself staring at your lashes, or giving you soft pats when you won a game as an excuse to get close to you. He didn't realize how natural it came to him at all, until he found his gaze fixed upon your smile that sent a warm feeling all over him.

You've never smiled at him so genuinely before. Seeing it now, it was as if your beauty had been completely magnetized. Now all he wanted to do was see more of that smile. In almost all the games you played, Seokjin decided to go easy on you so you'd win most of them. It was amusing to him, seeing you so competitive. Seeing you happy every time you won felt like a win for him as well.

When your eyes shifted to meet his, you noticed how he quickly looked away while the color of his ears turned into that familiar shade of red.

"Let's just play one last game, I'm starving," you held your hand to your stomach.

"Really? After all that popcorn?" He teased, followed by the sound of his own stomach rumbling, making you laugh.

"You tried," you laughed, "Let's play that one." You pointed at the Just Dance machine.

After a minute of arguing on what song to pick, Seokjin ended up choosing (your song of choice). Of all the games you could have picked, you started to regret choosing Just Dance. You didn't even /know/ how to dance, what made you think you could beat him at this game?

You glanced over at Seokjin who was dancing flawlessly and effortlessly. Your mouth dropped, and you stopped dancing altogether to watch him move. He was so focused on the game, he hadn't noticed you stopped playing just to watch him.

Your eyes fixated on his every move. He moved so well, you could feel your heart thumping louder as you watched in awe.

He was so attractive.

Finally, the game was over and Seokjin was surprised to see you standing there, just watching him with your mouth open. He holds back a laugh and moves towards you, placing his finger on your chin making you close your mouth. He was so close to you; you could feel your cheeks heat up.

"Surprised?" He asks.

"Who knew you could dance like that?" You spoke, but mostly to yourself.

"I don't know, natural talent I guess. Why'd you stop dancing, monkey? I thought you'd beat me at it," Seokjin pokes your forehead.

"I was just giving you a chance," You played off, "You should me thanking me."

He raises a brow and smiles, "Then as thanks I'll buy you food, come on."

You both decide to go for churros in a cafe. Seokjin suggested to dine in because you'd probably spill the chocolate as you walked, so you sat across each other in a small but comfortable space. Even though you insisted on paying for your own food, he beat you to it and paid for it instead.

"Just take it as a thank you gift for 'letting me win'," he says while adding air quotes. When he was no longer looking, you broke into a smile at his thoughtful gesture.

"You know, I never thought I'd say this but I'm actually having fun," You told him in manner where you tried to play it cool. He smiles and nods at this.

"See what happens when you aren't busy hating me?" He says with a cheesy smile, "You'll never find anyone as fun as I am."

"Sure, Seokjin," you rolled your eyes, "Just wait ‘til we start practicing and start ripping each other's throats out."

"That's not gonna happen."

"And why is that?"

"I'm confident something's changed," he grins charmingly with eyes looking fond for a moment you had to look away for fear of turning red in front of him.

You cleared your throat, "Whatever you say."

As you two continued to eat, you started talking about all sorts of things. Why you got into acting, how he was so good at dancing, how you and Courtney met. The flow of your conversations came naturally and you found yourselves wanting to know more and more about each other.

Time kept ticking, but you two didn't seem to notice. Even when you were done with your food, neither of you seemed close to running out of things to talk about.

Out of nowhere, Seokjin suddenly stopped and brought his hand close to you and you felt him gently touch your face. You stopped breathing.

"An eyelash," he says while moving his hand back.

"Oh, thanks," you tried hiding how flustered you were.

His phone started ringing, muttering a "One moment," before quickly answering it.

"Josh," he spoke. Your eyes widened.

Courtney!

You checked your own phone as Seokjin spoke to his friend. Your phone was filled with hundreds of messages from her asking where you two were and what you were doing.

"I'm with her," You heard Seokjin say, "You want us to leave you two alone? Then I guess you're doing well."

Leave them alone? That made you look up at him before typing a message to send to Courtney.

I'm with Seokjin and I'm doing great. I'll tell you everything later. I think Josh wants us to leave you guys alone. You alright? Are you having fun? Message me if you need me.

"Alright, see you tomorrow then. No, no it's fine, I'll bring her home," Seokjin continued, "Bye. Stay safe."

"They want us to leave them."

"I have ears, Seokjin."

"Big ones too, monkey," He jokes, "I'm kidding. And stop calling me Seokjin, no one calls me that."

Right, his friends called him Jin.

"Just call me Jin," He says, "None of my close friends call me Seokjin."

"Are you saying we're close friends?"

"I feel like we're moving too fast," He says sarcastically, laughing at his own joke before he continued, "No, our relationship's much more special than that."

You choked on your own saliva, "What?" Did you hear that right? Our relationship's what?

"We're partners that failed a paper and are now working on a movie," He laughs, "I'd say it's been great journey so far."

"And I'd say it's been a pleasure but it really hasn't."

"Seeing as you had fun with me today, I don't think that's true," he smirked. Why was it getting harder to get back at him?

"Shut up," You couldn't think of anything anymore.

You suddenly thought of asking him about it.

The reason why you disliked him so much in the first place. Why he left you alone without telling you.

Does he even remember?

But the mood between you two was great right now, so you decided to push the thought aside and ask some other time.

Shortly after, you two finally left the cafe and walked around, continuing your conversation. After a few more hours later, you decided it was getting late and that you should probably get back. Jin offered to take you home. The ride home was just as fun, blasting music and playing songs that you both knew.

He walked you back to your dorm and you both stopped at the steps outside the building.

"Thanks for today Monkey, I had fun," Jin smiles.

"Stop calling me that," You laughed.

"Then what do you suggest I call you?"

"Your highness."

"Too long. Princess?"

"Jeez, I was kidding," You chuckled nervously, obviously flustered so you took a step back on the first step, "Keep 'Monkey', I don't care."

He raises a brow at your response. "Your replies were better than that," Jin took a step in front of you, your faces were now close and your eyes levelled each other's. You gulped nervously.

"I'm just running out," You said coolly (or at least, in your head you thought it was cool), "You're moving to some new level of annoying and it takes some getting used to."

"I annoy you?" He asks.

"Yes. 24/7."

"I guess I'm living in your mind, rent-free," he smirks, "24/7, huh?"

You were beginning to feel even more flustered now and you knew that Jin noticed by the smirk on his face. He begins to step back and his face turns back to a warm smile.

"You wish," you spoke, "Bye, I'm leaving. Thanks for the drive." Before you could turn your back, Jin takes your hand and holds onto it. You almost muttered an "Oh my god" out loud at his action.

"Y/N, wait," he says, pulling you close to him, making you step down. Your faces were inches apart now.

"What?"

You heart was beating, trying to anticipate what he was gonna do next. Was he gonna lean in? Why was he staring at you like that? His face was so near. Did you want him to lean in?

"The last scene," he spoke.

"What?" Seemed like the only words you knew how to say now.

"The last scene," he spoke again, "We haven't practiced it yet."

Whatever it was you were expecting was off the table as you let out a sigh that Jin thought was out of relief. "Monday, we'll do it Monday. But we can't use the rehearsal room," you told him.

"Yeah, I figured. Where do you wanna practice, then?" He asks.

"Is your place available?" You asked before realizing how suggestive you sounded, "Because Courtney's usually home early."

Seokjin grins, "Yeah, my place is fine."

"Okay, great."

"Great."

"So, I'm gonna go now," You said slowly.

"Right," Jin lets go off you, "I'll see you Monday. For real this time."

"Monday, okay. See you," you waved before turning around and entering your dorm. You resisted the urge to look back and check if had already left, so you walked quickly before you changed your mind.

However, if you did look back, you'd find Jin patiently waiting until you were out of his sight, smiling to himself because of today's events. When he was sure you were gone, he finally left.

Jin was right. Something has definitely changed between you two. The day after your "date", you couldn't stop thinking about the way he was with you. He was kinder, more fun to be around. You didn't expect him to be that thoughtful, either. Of course, he was all these things to others, but now he was like that with you. Then you realized he was all you've been thinking about. It scared you slightly.

He really did live in your mind, rent-free.

"What happened, by the way?" Courtney asked.

You snap out of your thoughts and looked at her, "Yesterday?"

"Yeah, you and Seokjin disappeared."

"We decided not to watch the movie, then we hung out in an arcade."

"You hung out with him?" Courtney eyed you suspiciously, slowly making her way towards you to sit next to you on the bed.

"Yeah."

"And you're both still alive?"

"Yeah."

"So what was he like?" She asks.

"He was… nice. He saved my ass from a group of creepy guys," you smiled as you thought about it, "And he's good at dancing."

"You danced with him?"

"No, on Just Dance."

Courtney just stares, obviously shocked because she never thought you and Seokjin would get along, "You basically went on a date."

"It wasn't a date!" You said defensively, "We just… left you two. Didn't Josh tell Jin to leave you guys?"

"You call him Jin now, that's actually really cute," Courtney teases, then changes her expression to a frown, "Wait, no. Josh never said anything like that."

Huh? But I thought... "What do you mean?"

"He called Seokjin two hours later after you two still didn't show up, then he started going all 'What? What are you saying? No, I never said you two should leave us' and all that," Courtney explained, "Then he said Seokjin offered to take you home and that you two were still together. I got your message minutes later and you said you were doing great so I didn't worry."

"What? But Jin said he asked us to leave you guys…" You trailed off.

"He did? Well Josh never asked you guys to leave."

Oh my God. It didn't make sense. Why would Jin…?

"I'm thinking he wanted to spend more time with you," Courtney says, giving you a teasing look like she knew something. You only look at her. You didn't really know what to say.

It took you a while to sleep that night trying to analyze what was going on with Jin. Every little thing he did stuck in your head and it was making you confused. He affects you now in ways you never thought he ever would, you weren't sure if that terrified you.

One thing's for sure, this was the first time you wanted the weekend to pass by quickly.

You saw Jin on Monday, and the next day, and the day after that. Sometimes you'd practice, other days you'd both just sit down and talk if you were too tired. You still hadn't got the last scene right, both of you were still in the "dialogue-only" phase. Truthfully, you were both just waiting for the other to initiate it first.

On days where you and Jin would decide to just hang out and take a break, you began to notice how much nicer he had become towards you. Apart from that, you noticed him so much more now that you almost admired whatever it was he did.

Today was the last day of your practice and you both finally got through the scene. Tomorrow would be the actual shoot and you were already feeling confident that you'd do well. Just one part made you a bit uneasy, the actual kiss. You could feel how you two were so obviously trying to distract yourselves by doing other things, just to prevent an awkward atmosphere.

"Let's take a break," Jin says tiredly, sitting down on the floor.

"Shouldn't Yoongi be back by now?" You asked and sat down across him.

"No, he's over at his hometown visiting. Says he needs his space on his music project," Jin takes a piece of chip from the bag of snacks you brought, "He'll be back in a few days." You only nodded, staring at the television that was showing a movie with people drinking some fancy wine.

"I want that," you said quietly, mostly to yourself.

"Want what?" Jin looks at you, "That high class society? Fancy people around?"

"No, what they're drinking," You pointed at the wine.

"Wine?" His voice slightly sounding shocked.

"Yeah, I should tell Courtney to go get some…" you muttered absent-mindedly as you continued to watch the people drinking onscreen. Jin suddenly stands up and walks over to their mini fridge. You watched as he pulled a bottle of wine out and proceeded to grab wine glasses from a cabinet.

You sat up straight, not expecting him to actually bring you wine. "What are you doing?"

"You said you wanted wine," he says, setting the glasses down on the small coffee table.

"Yeah, but—" You stared at the bottle, "How do you even have that?"

"Yoongi drinks them to think," He says and pops it open, "I drink them with him." You stared as he poured himself a glass. "Do you want one?" He asks.

You took one of the empty glasses and moved it close to him, so he poured you some as well. Jin sat next to you on the floor as you two sat in silence, watching— no, just staring at the TV screen, sipping on your glasses of wine.

Later on, the TV was shut off and you two went back to talking. Your scripts were set aside on the bed, almost completely forgotten.

"I don't get drunk easily," Jin says, "I think you do, though. You're turning slightly red."

It was either that or because of how close you two were right now.

The wine made you talk so much, much more than usual. Jin found it interesting. He really did have a high alcohol tolerance, and watching you talk about the most random things amused him a lot.

"There's something I wanna know," You spoke, "Two things, actually." This was it. You weren't drunk, but you were beginning to lose the ability to filter the words coming out of your mouth.

"What is it?" He asks softly.

"Why did you tell me Josh told us to leave them alone?" You stared at him, he stared back at you.

"How'd you know about that?" He asks.

"Courtney." You heart beat fast. You knew what you wanted to hear, you just wanted him to say it fast.

"I'll answer you, but you'll have to answer my question after, deal?"

"Deal."

Jin set his glass down before looking deep into your eyes.

"I wanted to spend more time with you." He wanted to say something more than that. Something more serious, but he had to know your answer first.

You weren't sure what to make of that now. It was what you wanted to hear… or was it? Now it could mean completely different things.

"Oh, okay," your face began to heat up, and it wasn't because of the alcohol now, "So what's your question?"

"Why did you hate me so much? I mean, assuming you don't anymore… unless you still do," Jin asks.

"What?"

You looked at him, searching for any sign of sarcasm or a tell that he was lying. He wasn't. He looked back at you with a serious expression on his face. There was a silence that lasted for a minute, almost as if time had stopped.

"You don't remember?"

"Don't remember what? Was it something I did?" Jin looks confused. Maybe he really didn't remember. But it only happened eight months ago. Has it really been that long?

"Eight months ago a friend set me up with you," You explained, feeling slightly embarrassed at the context.

"Someone set you up with me?" Jin asks, raising a brow.

"Yeah…" you could feel your face heating up now, "It was supposed to be like a blind date thing, so I initially didn't know it was you. So I went to the place and waited but you stood me up and when I told my friend about it, she told me Kim Seokjin couldn't make it."

"Then when I saw you the next day, you didn't seem to care and it made me so angry— the fact that you never apologized or even talked about it," You continued, "And that made me despise you."

Jin was staring at the floor now trying to recall what happened. He looked lost and confused. He reached out for his glass and took a sip before turning to face you again.

"I don't hate you anymore," You told him, in fact maybe you were beginning to feel the opposite for weeks now.

"Y/n, are you sure that happened? Because I don't remember ever being set up with you—or anyone, for that matter," Jin says, "And believe me when I say that because I've always turned down set ups and blind dates and whatnot."

"Huh?"

"I swear, that really wasn't me. Someone must've used my name."

"Why would someone use your name?"

"I don't know, I—" He runs his hand through his hair, "I've been told there are guys who are jealous of me or something. Maybe they used my name to get back at me."

"That's so low," you felt a pang of guilt now. You've been hating on him for all the wrong reasons, everything suddenly felt like a false memory. If only you'd known sooner, "What the fuck," you muttered quietly.

"What the fuck indeed," Jin sighs.

"I'm so sorry, I should've known," You looked at him.

"No, don't be. I'm sorry you had to go through that, and I apologize you thought it was me all along," He held your hand, "If anything, I should've known. You were never just mean to anyone on purpose. I should've asked you."

There was silence between you two as he stared at both of your hands intertwined, while you stared at his face, trying to get everything to sink in.

"What was your second question?" Jin finally asks.

"Why you stood me up," you laughed, "Turns out you didn't."

"You know," Jin spoke while his free hand reached for his glass. He finishes the drink in his hand before continuing, "If you did ask me out, I wouldn't leave you out in the cold."

You laughed, "Why would I ask you out?"

"I don't know. Got any ideas?" Jin teased. You smiled and bit your lip, not knowing what to say next. The lip bite did things to him, but he was trying his very best not to seem at all fazed before realizing he was already staring at your lips.

Maybe you were tipsy enough to finally do this.

You drank your wine and grabbed your script from the bed. Jin watched as you flipped over to the last scene.

"Michael," you began reading your lines as you stood, Jin's hand leaving yours, "You know we can't do this. It'll ruin everything."

Jin doesn't even need his script anymore due to the countless times you've both practiced the dialogues alone, "It's not gonna ruin everything, or anything for that matter." He stands up to face you.

"Yes, it will. You know how this will risk our friendship. This won't end well."

"Your eyes tell me otherwise."

"I don't—"

"You do, and you know it," Jin moves closer now, and you can feel your heart beating.

"Emily, I love you. I always have, and you know that. I know you feel the same." He places his hand on your waist. There were no lines left for you to read now, just one last thing your characters needed to do.

It was at this point where you both felt the wine was getting to your system.

He leaned in close, staring at your lips as you slowly moved back. When you couldn't anymore, you felt his lips meet yours, and before you knew it, he was kissing you— and you were kissing him back. You could feel his soft lips pressing against yours as your hands travelled up to his chest. You both fell back onto his bed as the kiss progressed into a rougher pattern of movements. Your hands grabbed onto his shirt while one of his hands gripped onto your waist, the other pushed back onto the mattress for support.

When you two pulled away to gasp for air, the awkwardness of the position you two were in never registered your brain. Instead, your eyes met each other's, searching for any sign of denial. When Jin sensed that there was none, he crashed his lips back onto yours.

Your mind was overflowing with euphoria and adrenaline. You were nervous, excited— you didn't know what was going to happen next. The moment his lips started trailing down your neck, small sounds began to escape from your lips. Whimpers that drove Jin wild as he began to pick up the pace.

The scene about to happen was no longer part of the script, but you were both more than willing to play the part.

The next morning, you woke up next to Jin who was sleeping soundly with his arms wrapped around you. Last night's events started coming back to you as you gently tried to squiggle out of his hold.

Panic was the first feeling that rushed over you.

1. The shoot was in a few hours and here you were, dressed in Jin's oversized shirt and sweat pants.

2. Your tendency to over think began creeping in.

What if he only did it because of the heat of the moment? You suddenly felt a wave of embarrassment because you thought you had initiated the whole thing with the script reading and all. Maybe he liked you. Maybe he didn't. Neither of you said anything about liking the other last night, so what if it didn't mean anything? You couldn't deal with this right now, so you silently picked up your things and left.

It was still pretty early in the morning, so you tried your best not to make a sound while Courtney was asleep. You took a shower and got ready before you headed out and went to the place where you had to film.

The group of upperclassmen greeted you as you walked in and made your way to Oliver, who would be directing the whole film.

"Hey, y/n. Glad you're here early, where's Jin?" Oliver asks.

"I think he's on his way," you lied. As if on cue, Jin enters the room and people start to greet him. Oliver calls him and Jin makes his way to you two. You couldn't look at him at all.

"You two should start changing, we'll start in 30," Oliver announces and you two head for the changing rooms. You walked a little faster to avoid conversation.

For the rest of the filming process, you both received compliments from everyone on your acting skills. You barely needed to repeat takes which was a relief. You and Jin had the perfect chemistry.

Jin kept trying to talk to you in between breaks, but you'd just give short and simple answers, sometimes just avoiding him altogether. You just couldn't bring yourself to make any eye contact that wasn't on set, or else you'd feel this churning feeling in your stomach and it made you uncomfortable. Soon enough, Jin got the idea and suddenly turned all silent as he observed your every move.

Finally, you had to shoot the last scene. You tried your very best not to appear bothered which seemed to work because no one has asked about why you look so uneasy. Jin was trying his best not to beg you to tell him what was wrong.

"I want you guys to give this your best shot. This scene is the most important, and I need to see more of your chemistry, got it?" Oliver tells them.

The cameras began rolling and Oliver shouts "action".

"Michael, you know we can't do this. It'll ruin everything." You were sat on a sofa and Jin was standing next to it.

"It's not gonna ruin everything, or anything for that matter." Jin says his line and sits close, next to you. You look back at him.

"Yes, it will. You know how this will risk our friendship. This won't end well." You stood up and turned away from him.

He places his hands on your waist and turns you around for your eyes to meet. He pauses for a brief second before his line, "Your eyes tell me otherwise."

"I don't—"

"You do, and you know it." Jin continues, pulling you closer to him. "Emily, I love you. I always have, and you know that. I know you feel the same." he places his hand on your cheek, and you both stare at each other.

"Maybe I do," you muttered, shocking Jin. He continues the act and finally pulls you in for a kiss. Everything came flashing back. You wanted more than what you two had now, it was so easy to see.

"Cut!" Oliver shouts and he begins to clap and you and Jin began to pull away. He looks at you for a moment, and you look back at him.

"Y/n, that improvisation was amazing!" Oliver shouts, still clapping his hands together. You snap out of it and laugh nervously, "Thanks."

"If I hadn't known better, I'd think you two were seeing each other," Oliver teases, "I'm glad you two took this role. Thanks, you guys."

After a few more praises from Oliver, you headed back to the changing room to wear your normal clothes. Scenes of your kiss and scenes from last night began replaying in your mind. You wanted to ask him what it meant, but you were afraid to be the only one falling.

You left the changing room and decided to leave quietly. As you were about to head out, you heard a voice call from behind you.

"Y/n."

The voice alone made you stop in your tracks. There was no need to turn around to know who it was; it was Jin. He walked over to you, holding your wrist so you would face him.

"You're avoiding me," he spoke. You looked around, checking if the coast was clear. When you decided it was, you soon.

"I'm not," you lied.

"Stop lying," the hurt in his voice was evident, "You are. You wouldn't even answer my texts."

"You texted?" You hadn't checked your phone since you left his apartment, "I haven't checked my phone."

"Why did you leave?" He had this disappointed look on his face. Knowing it was because of you made you feel even worse.

"Honestly? I was scared," you admitted.

"Of what?"

"That we only did that because of the heat of the moment. That it was all just for fun. That it was because of the alcohol. That it meant nothing."

"Is that really what you think?"

"No," You looked down, "I mean, I'd like to think it isn't."

"Y/n, you know it isn't," Jin said quietly.

"I didn't think it was," he admits, making you look up at him, "I meant it all. Me wanting to spend time with you. Walking you home. Kissing you. It all meant something to me."

"It did?"

"Yeah. When you fell asleep before I did, you looked so peaceful. I started thinking about how I could look at you forever, and the thought of waking up next to you made me happy," He held your hand, "But when I woke up, you were gone."

"I'm sorry, Jin, I just—" You sighed, "I thought of all the worst things and left. I panicked. That's really all I can say." He nodded.

"But did you mean what you set on set? Or was it really just improv?" He asked, his eyes staring deeply into yours.

You nodded, "Yeah, I did."

Jin just nodded and looked at your eyes. Had you really upset him this much?

"Jin, I'm really s—"

Before you could finish your apology, Jin takes his free hand and grabs you by the waist, pulling you closer for a kiss.

This time it felt different.

It felt so, real. No alcohol, no script. It was just Jin.

You wanted it to last forever.

When you two finally pulled away, Jin was the first to speak.

"I like you, a lot, y/n. And I've realized that for a while now," he tells you.

"I like you too," you couldn't help but smile, ignoring at how much your cheeks burned. It was fine, Jin's ears were just as red, "Even though you suck at racing games and my ideal boyfriend is an illegal street racer.”

Jin laughs, and you couldn't help but laugh with him because of all this. All the banter turned to compliments and all the eye-rolling turned to kisses. Now you were more than just partners who failed a paper and ended up working on a movie.

"That's alright, Monkey," Jin grins before placing a kiss on your forehead.

"The only thing I need to keep racing is your heart, not a car."

a/n: sorry it got longer than expected. anyways if you read until here, thank you for reading! i hope you liked it! send me comments/asks anytime if u want.

also, if you’d like to read my two other works, here are the links!

let’s fall in love for the night

welcome to my youtube channel

which are both taehyung x readers.

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yyuangss-main · 4 years

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❝chapter fourteen: countdown complete❞

Iwaizumi tapped his foot against the floor, waiting outside of the classroom while other students went around him. You had made the mistake of being on your phone throughout class, forgetting to pack your things up. The ace exhaled, looking uninterested as Oikawa came up.

“Iwa—chan!” He said, “You waited for me!”

“Why would I wait for you?” He raised an eyebrow, head leaning into the door way to see you finally scurrying towards him. “Dumbass. I told you we can’t waste any time!”

“Sheesh calm down. I’m doing my best.” You peacefully said, now turning your attention to the setter. “Hey Oikawa.” The setter gave a smirk.

“Hi (L/N). What are you and Iwa—chan up to that you can’t waste any time?” He put his hands into his pockets, leaning his figure down to make eye contact with you. “Or is it “Talk Shit Five” exclusive?” He did air quotes around the group name.

Iwaizumi’s head nodded to the side, telling you to get a move on. You scrunched your nose, linking your arm with Oikawa’s as the three of you marched down the hallway to get towards the entrance.

You explained you had no idea what was going on, only that Kuroo said he had a surprise for you. Oikawa kept coming up with conclusions, maybe that Kuroo was finally taking you on a date. You mentally facepalmed, remembering you hadn’t told Oikawa about talking to Ushiwaka.

Oikawa parted ways with you two, waving as he rushed down another road. He was going to go see his nephew today. Iwaizumi and you began going to the train station, orders from Kuroo apparently.

“I wish I could go home and change.” You muttered, holding onto Iwaizumi’s arm now.

“No shit.” He looked uninterested. He made the mistake of wearing his school uniform instead of the volleyball’s tracksuit. “Let’s just hope we get there in time.” He said, checking the time on his phone. He started calculating things out loud, barely audible to you.

On the train ride, you two messed around with each other, hoping it would make time go faster.

“How big is this surprise? Are you guys finally going to stop being mean to me?” You lace your hands together, a bright smile on your face that reflected on Iwaizumi’s face as well.

“No, but nice try.” He closed his eyes, crossing his arms and leaning back in his seat. “If I’m being honest, this was all Kuroo’s idea. I’m only escorting you.” He said.

“Maybe Tanaka will spill if I tell him I’ll put him on with Kiyoko.” You whipped your head to your phone, causing the volleyball player to chuckle.

“What ever happened to being patient?” Iwaizumi kicked his legs out, crossing his left over his right. His neck craned to look behind him. “We’re almost at the station and then we only have to walk a little.”

When the train’s brakes came screeching and fully stopped, people began huddling for the doors to open. One by one, they stepped off the platform. Iwaizumi gripped your hand, hauling you behind him so you wouldn’t get stuck. You patted off your school skirt, eyes scanning to find Kuroo’s head lowered who also wore his school uniform. He was fixated on his phone, snorting at whatever was playing.

“There’s Kuroo.” You pointed. Iwaizumi was already making his way to his friend, hand still holding yours. Kuroo heard the clicking of shoes coming in his direction, lifting his head up at the right moment. His grin formed on his lips, locking his phone.

“About time you made it.” He said. “I thought it would be you guys waiting for me.”

“Someone here took forever to put their things away.” Iwaizumi glared, letting go of your hand. “Do we still have time?”

Kuroo nodded.

“Yeah. We just have to hurry.” Kuroo turned on his heel, heading to leave the station.

“Kuroo!” You dragged out his name. He gave you a ‘what’ in the same tone. “Where are we going?”

“If I tell you then it’s not a surprise anymore.” He stated once you three were walking side by side. “And then, your reaction will be a fake one.”

“So stop whining.” Iwaizumi rubbed his temple, “It’s enough dealing with Oikawa during practice and Kuroo in the chat room.” Kuroo and Iwaizumi started arguing, each insult making your stomach hurt from how hard you were laughing. A little while later, you three met up with Tanaka and Tsukishima.

“Wait, is Suna not coming?” You asked Kuroo. You two were walking in front of Tsukishima, Tanaka, and Iwaizumi. Iwaizumi currently had Tanaka in a headlock. Kuroo raised his eyebrows before dropping them back down.

“Kind of.” Kuroo scratched the back of his neck. “You’ll see.” The roads began to seem familiar, you’d walked down this path a few times. Your eyebrows furrowed, trying to remember where this road took you.

Until the kanji embedded in metal read, Shiratorizawa. You stopped dead in your tracks, the three behind following in pursuit. You glanced at Kuroo. His face had a mischievous smirk, knowing he was up to something.

“What? Backing out now?” Tsukishima bumped your shoulder as he walked around you. Kuroo’s fingers wrapped around your wrist, trying to drag you along but your feet stood planted on the cement.

“(Y/N) come on!” He urged. “It’s nothing bad, I promise!”

“You brought me to Shiratorizawa! Where Wakatoshi goes! You’re probably trying to embarrass me!”

“You’re an embarrassment as much as it is,” Tsukishima rolled his eyes, “No point in doing that.” Your jaw dropped at his words.

“That’s gotta hurt.” Tanaka said, coming up behind you to push you. “We didn’t plan this for two weeks just for you to act like this last minute.” With Tanaka pushing you and Kuroo pulling you, it was enough force to bring you to the gym.

Standing outside of the metal doors, Kuroo slid it open. The sounds of volleyballs being hit, the net jangling after being touched, and small chit chat on the sidelines. You began feeling nervous, heart beating against your chest. The white ‘1’ on a muscular back faced the five of you.

“I don’t think Iranizaki is here yet.” Kuroo stepped on the wooden floor, signaling the rest to join him as well. There were a few girls cheering on for the Shiratorizawa boys currently practicing. “Taichi!” Kuroo whispered loud enough for the boy to hear. Taichi’s head turned to your group.

“Up there.” He pointed to a free spot on the balcony, not before leaving to talk to Ushijima. Tanaka took the lead, rushing to get to the balcony and place his things down. With shaky legs, you followed, praying that Ushijima wouldn’t notice you were here just yet.

Making it on the free spot, Tanaka and Iwaizumi sat down, backs pressed against the wall and relaxing. Tsukishima squated down, rummaging through his bag. Kuroo, gripping the bars holding him from falling, flailed his arms like it was a signal. From the bottom, Semi’s nonchalant eyes shot open when catching Kuroo.

Kuroo sent a thumbs up, the silver haired boy sauntering to Taichi and Ushijima. Kuroo checked to see if you were still standing beside him, kicking Tsukishima who kept trying to untie your shoes.

“Kuroo, switch spots with me.” You tapped the captain on his shoulder. That didn’t grab his attention, focused on something else. This led you to examining what he was looking at. Semi, the third year setter, speaking with Ushijima and pointed towards your direction. Ushijima’s head turned upwards, olive eyes meeting yours.

You could see his rare smile, hand waving to say he knew you were here. In return, you did the same thing. His hand dropped back to his side, smile disappearing and focusing once again on getting done with the warm up.

“You like him.” Kuroo said in sing song voice in your ear.

“Shut up stupid.”

❝You send 17 asterisks to your friends about the guy you’d date before Kuroo Tetsurou. They try and figure out who it is and once they do, all hell breaks loose.❞

TAGLIST IS NOW CLOSED!

Taglist: @kokogxddess @cherryblosom111 @mariachiii @it-me-trash @z-llama @differentballooncollection @solarisjae @simpywara @princessmidas @ohashley101 @anejuuuuoy @toaster-stick @izexftheworld @haikyuufairy @yikerb @ratatostada @irenevyas @just-snog-already @doublekrecs @xsmutbucket @not-today-19 @ushi-please @leinnah @moonlightsof @cutepet09 @vinaios @cloudykarasuno @hartbeat-art @svtbitch @sushijima @kageyamasbabygorl @katherine1920 @animatedrapture @anhphunnnn @kiyoojima @michelepiekenma @a-moon-fairy @moremilkforkags @lollyzen @toobsessedsstuff

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horansqueen · 3 years

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New Angel - Chapter 16

story masterlist [x]

chapter 1 ☆ chapter 2 ☆ chapter 3 ☆ chapter 4 ☆ chapter 5 ☆ chapter 6 ☆ chapter 7 ☆ chapter 8 ☆ chapter 9 ☆ chapter 10 ☆ chapter 11 ☆ chapter 12 ☆ chapter 13 ☆ chapter 14 ☆ chapter 15

NOTES

☆ written from Niall’s pov ☆ i don’t proofread, I never do, I hate it. ☆ AU comedy/fluff/smut/romance ☆ 2.6k ☆ i accept requests and ideas for this story, so message me in my inbox! ☆ if you want to be notified when this story is updated (or be taken off the update list) CLICK HERE

NIALL

I blinked a few times as I stared at my best friend who was simply raising her eyebrows at me with a begging face. It was the third day of us spending time together and if I wanted to be honest, I was not completely over the fact that we had seen Grace the day before. I couldn't take it out of my mind of all evening and Millie and I didn't have a long night. We just ate, watched a movie, and I went to bed. I knew my friend was totally aware of what was happening and I suspected that she didn't mention it because she also needed some time alone.

Last night, right after we ate, Louis had came back. He was alone, fortunately, but he barely talked to us. He just grabbed a bag of chips and locked himself in his room, resulting in Millie and I both a bit confused, angry and sad after seeing the person we still had feelings for on the same day.

That's why today, I wanted to do something else and stop thinking about Grace for a while, but Millie's suggestion was not something I would have thought about, ever.

"Mill, I can't dance."

"Oh yea, I'm not really good either. That's why they call it a dance class."

I rolled my eyes and sighed but she took a step closer, intertwining her fingers together in an attempt to beg me.

"Please please please!" she continued, moving her chin up as she sent me puppy eyes. "I have a wedding to attend in a few weeks and I'm gonna have to dance!"

"Like the way you dance in sweatpants in the living room?" I joked, my lips curling into a smirk.

"Exactly! What if a pretty boy asks me to dance and I keep stepping on his feet?" she argued, getting closer again and tilting her head before grabbing my arms. "Please, Niall! Maybe I'll dance with the love of my life! Do it for the pretty boy!"

Her arguments made me chuckle and I rolled my eyes. "Fine, fine! But I don't do it for the pretty boy, I do it for my best friend!"

"How lucky are they!" she replied, smiling more.

"It's you, silly!"

Her eyes roamed on my face for a few seconds and I held my breath when she threw herself in my arms. Her arms wrapped around my neck, choking me slightly as she jumped a bit, bringing me up and down with her.

"Thank you thank you thank you thank you!"

"Yea yea," I replied, trying to hug her back without much success. "Now please I can't breathe!"

I cleared my throat when she pulled away and frowned for half a second at the odor reaching my nose. It smelled like candies, a mix of sugar and fruits, and I just smiled when I remembered how much Millie loved candies. She had probably eaten a few not so long ago and the smell had stayed. I didn't know why but I liked it. It was a good change from the very expensive perfume Grace was wearing.

"What do I have to wear?"

"Clothes, preferably." she let out with sarcasm, a smile on her lips.

"You're missing out, I look amazing naked."

She chuckled and rolled her eyes. "Yea, I'll never know." she pointed out, making my lips curl more. "Just bring comfortable shoes, I guess."

I expected the evening to be long and boring, but dancing with Millie was actually quite entertaining, like everything we did together. I grabbed her hand and pulled her closer to make her twirl, and surprisingly, the movement was graceful and in perfect rhythm. She ended up facing me with a large grin as I stopped her with my hand on her waist. She laughed, shocked by what we had just accomplished, but I sort of thought it was only luck. In fact, I highly doubted we could do it again,

"That was great! You're so good at this!" she let out.

Her hand was on my shoulder and her thumb brushed lightly against the skin of my neck, making me shiver.

"Thanks, but I don't think we'll be able to do it again." I admitted with a chuckle, shaking my head.

"Don't be a party popper okay?" she argued, raising her eyebrows and tilting her chin down. "You need to stay positive!"

Once again, I rolled my eyes as the music started again. We tried dancing one more time but I had a hard time remembering where to put my feet and after a while, we just started laughing together. In the spur of the moment, I moved farther, holding her hand, before pulling her back to me and making her twirl again. When she stopped moving, facing me, my hand squeezed her waist slightly and she chuckled, her eyes getting bigger, once again amazed by how perfect that movement was.

"See? We did it again!"

"Okay, you were right, we're really good at this!"

"It's a gift!"

---

As soon as we stepped foot out of the building, I reached for Millie's hand and made her twirl again. The smile she was now permanently wearing grew even bigger as mine did the same. She giggled and squeezed my fingers before letting go of my hand and we walked to my car in silence.

I waited until she put her seatbelt on to start the car and as I drove, I could feel her gaze on me.

"Thanks for coming with me, Niall." she let out gently, leaning her head on the bench.

"No problem, T'was fun!"

I was surprised of it myself but this evening had been pleasant and my stomach actually hurt from laughing so much. I glanced at my best friend as I turned on our street and realized that it was always fun with Millie. We got along great and we made each other discover things that we definitely wouldn't have by ourselves. I liked that. I liked knowing Millie was helping me becoming a better version of myself, and I hoped I was helping her do the same thing.

"You promised you'd cook for me." she pointed out as I unlocked the door.

I chuckled, walking to the kitchen and opening the fridge. "A promise is a promise!" I let out loud enough for her to hear as she joined me. "What would you like to eat?"

"Spaghetti. I'm in that mood."

I got back up and turned to her, raising my eyebrows and sending her an amused smile. "Are you serious?"

"Very."

"I'm ready to cook for you and you literally ask me the easiest meal ever thought of?" I argued before shaking my head and chuckling low. "Alright!"

Millie sat on the counter while I cut a few vegetables for my sauce before boiling water. I handed a mushroom to my friend who grabbed it and quickly ate it, making me smile again.

"Are you gonna help me at all?"

"No."

"You're such a lazy ass!" I laughed, making her shrug.

"I was always the one cooking with Louis when you weren't there. I hate cooking."

I looked up at her and my lips curled on the right sadly. It was the first time on that day that one of us talked about a love relationship and it made me feel a bit down. We were doing so well without them, yet we couldn't help ourselves from mentioning them. It made sense, after all. We used to spend so much time with them that we could link many memories, activities, discussions and thoughts to them.

"You should add that to your list."

Millie scoffed but still sent me a small smile. "What? That I can't cook?"

"No, that he wouldn't do it."

Millie stole an other mushroom from the plate and I slapped her fingers quickly, making her frown as she let out a quick 'ow!'

"You need to find yourself a boyfriend or a girlfriend that can actually cook."

We remained in silence for a few minutes and my gaze kept moving from my sauce to my best friend. I could see emotions appear and leave on her face and somehow, I wished I could read her mind.

"Actually, Louis didn't do much of the things I enjoyed." she admitted, making me frown a bit. "I asked but most of the time he said no, or he canceled, or he didn't show up. That's why it means so much that you came with me today, Niall. No one else would have done that for me."

I felt my heart break a bit in my chest and turned to her, placing my hands on each sides of her thighs before tilting my chin up to look in her eyes. She seemed sincere, sad, and slightly embarrassed, and I moved closer until my stomach pressed against her knees.

"Louis is like a brother to me, but he was an ass with you. He never treated you like a real girlfriend and it's a fucking shame. Mill, you deserve so much better, do you realize that?"

Her eyes traveled gently on my face, her traits softened and she moved a lock of her behind her ear. I was staring at her, making sure she knew how serious I was, and she finally nodded very slowly.

"Now." I let out louder, pushing myself away with my hands before turning back to my sauce. "You taste this and tell me if it's good."

I grabbed a spoon quickly and gathered some sauce in it before bringing it up to her, my hand right under it in case it would drip. I stared at her as she tasted it slowly, licking her lips and tilting her head on the left.

"So? Verdict?" I insisted, raising my eyebrows up.

"Perfect."

"I would have been insulted if you hadn't used that word." I admitted with a smile. "This is the easiest thing to cook.”

Millie laughed and got down from the counter to help me prepare the plates and we finally sat together at the table. I ate slowly, watching her do the same, and when she leaned against her chair, I grabbed my beer and took a sip.

"Okay, it's time." Millie let out with a sigh, taking a paper out of her pocket and unfolding it.

I found it a bit funny that we both kept our lists in our pockets. I thought it would end up obsessing me or that I'd always feel it burn against my thigh but most of the time, I forgot about it to enjoy my day and I was pretty sure it was the same for my best friend.

I moved closer, leaning slightly on the table to see what she was writing.

'He can't cook'

'He never did things that would have made me happy'

I breathed in and reached out for the sheet, sliding it slowly to me. Millie looked up and frowned but I just had to do it. I didn't know much about the relationship Millie and Louis had together. I knew they were close, I knew sometimes they were very cute with each other, and that other times they barely acted like friends, but I didn't know how hurt Millie had been through this whole relationship and somehow, I felt like she didn't know either. I felt like she was just realizing that she was better off without him.

I took the pen from her hand and quickly scribbled something.

'You deserve better. You deserve the best.'

I added my name right next to it to say it came from me and when she read what I had written, she smiled fondly and tilted her head. I could read in her eyes how grateful she was and I mirrored the same loving smile to her for a few seconds before taking my own list out of my pocket.

"Okay, my turn."

I stared at the name of my ex girlfriend written on top and sighed low, closing my eyes for a few seconds. The more I thought about it, the more I found it ridiculous to go back and date someone who's only good point was that I actually loved her. Love was not everything and despite what everyone thinks, it doesn't heal everything, especially if the person you love is the person who also broke you.

What actually took me out of my thoughts was the sound of my phone. I jumped slightly, a bit too deeply lost in my thoughts, and searched my pocket quickly. I held my breath and felt my lips part when I saw the name written on the screen. Summer. Suddenly, I felt extremely guilty. Once again, I had sort of forgotten about her. I only had written one bad thing on the list about her and had been too focused on the way I felt for Grace and spending time with Millie to even take the time to message Summer. I could always pretend I just didn't want to bother her but I couldn't lie to myself.

'I miss you, I can't wait to see you'

The words made me swallow and the cute little emoji with hearts around its head made my heart skip a beat. Unfortunately, it was out of guilt, and not out of excitement.

"Who is it?"

"Summer." I replied low.

"Oh."

Millie had only whispered her word and it made me believe that she had realized too that we had barely talked about Summer in the past few days. I held my thumbs over the letters, not really sure what I should type back. I didn't want to lie, and I didn't want to say the truth either. It made me remember that I hadn't even touched myself at all since the last time I had sex with Summer and it surprised me.

"D'you miss her?"

I looked up at Millie who was raising her eyebrows at me, waiting for an answer. If I could be honest with someone, it was definitely her, and I shrugged a shoulder.

"I mean, not really." I confessed, making my best friend's lips part too. "I'm not to the stage that I actually have feelings for her, and sex with her is good but not... flabbergasting, you know? Plus, we've been super busy doing a bunch of things, I didn't really have time to miss her."

"But you had time to miss Grace."

I sighed and looked down before nodding. "I guess."

"You know, Niall, you don't have to justify yourself with me. You feel what you feel, and that's it. It's not like you can control your feelings. You can only control the way you react because of those feelings. That's what shows who you are as a person."

I closed my eyes and swallowed hard, trying to keep my tears in. It was the third day and I only had about four more to decide who I wanted to be with. Of course, I could always take more time, but how unfair to both girls would that be? I couldn't just keep them around for weeks until I make a decision. The problem was, I had no idea who I wanted to be with. I had no idea what to do.

"Tell me, Mill, which one should I pick?" I asked in a murmur.

I felt Millie's hand on mine and my eyes fluttered open to stare at her fingers squeezing mine.

"I can't choose for you Niall, you know that." she explained softly. "Just don't force yourself to do anything. It's your life. Your feelings. In the end, you need to take this decision for you."

I looked up in her eyes and held her hand tighter. She was right, I knew it, but I felt like I would never be completely happy, no matter which choice I'd make.

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