#every one of this mans tweets is a curse upon me | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

venusiansilk · 5 months

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𝐎𝐇 ?

꒰ your egg just hatched, @cinnamoneve ! ꒱ — nanami kento \ online dating \ drunk confessions.

⋆˙⟢ MAN OF INDULGENCE.

popular baking influencer kento may be the man of your dreams. or, your online friendship with kento is unorthodox, but it’s yours.

f!reader ⊹ no curses, online dating au ⊹ fluff. lil angst. strangers to lovers. one dummy n a lover. drunk confession-ish? ⊹ kento’s bi-lingual. baker influencer!kento + hobby baker!reader ⊹ 6.7k lol ⊹ footnote. maggie, thank you for attending my event. :3 ily so bad n i hope you enjoy your hatchling.

꒰ 𝐌𝐃𝐍𝐈 ! ꒱

𝐍𝐀𝐍𝐀𝐌𝐈 𝐊𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐎. kentobakes 18 hours ago: [ video ] ez-pz nutella pastry wreath tutorial for the winter spirits. if you make your own, be sure to tag me. i’d quite enjoy seeing everyone’s results with this one :-)

shethesea replies: [ image ] did the best i could heh. 😅

nerves making your hands rattle, you shakily hit send on your tweet. immediately, your heart races at the thought of the potentiality that he may actually reply. in your shallow breaths, there exists both anxiety and thrill. you see, twitter is evidence of hell’s position on earth, but nanami kento sprinkles a bit of wholesome sunshine onto the timeline borderline religiously, and that’s enough to keep you around, ducking and dodging unprovoked opinions spewed from a sometimes cesspool. among a plethora of people who’re miserable and feel nearly obligated to project it, there’s a single man who likes to ask others about their day, follow recipes, and show everyone videos of his absurdly rambunctious cat, satoru, doing gymnastics around his modest flat. there’s something about men who gravitate towards domestic endeavors, men who love staying at home so much that they make a hobby out of it by ensuring they never have to leave to enjoy themselves. a man who sees taking care of their home and related activities as desirable and goal-worthy? to you, that type of man is the pinnacle of attraction. nanami kento is that man. but of course, he’s also an incredibly wholesome mostly-baking influencer based in an entirely different country that you reason you have no chance with whatsoever, but witnessing his existence is a constant reminder that the type of man you’re holding out for isn’t only a myth. it isn’t the fabrication of a delusion or a daydream. you aren’t picky; your standards are high and unmoved, rightfully so. the bar you have set for a lover is real and reachable, and you know it is because of every slice of life kento offers his audience. every video he creates is an obvious labor of love for those who, like him, find great enthusiasm for being at home and enjoy spending time in the kitchen. he’s just your type. you reason everything he does must be thorough and authentic. he never adds ads to his videos. he never takes on or talks about sponsored merchandise. he always responds to followers and strives to make his content a group effort. everything he shows is just a glimpse into who he genuinely is at his core: a simple man with simple hobbies who’s responsible and has a heart that’s teeming with kindness and pleasantries. so, of course, taking the leap and finally completing one of his follow-along tutorials just for the chance that he replies is absolutely nerve-wracking for you. like him, you have a great love for baking. you’re no professional baker and you’re no successful baking influencer, but it’s stress-relieving and you love fresh bread, desserts, and pastries. in fact, finding new things to try baking is how you stumbled upon his youtube channel, fell head over heels in infatuation with him, and now follow him across all his socials, smiling like a fool when he posts. ꒰ you’re not obsessed; you’re just enamored. ꒱ and on your attempt, you actually feel a little proud. it comes out damn near identical to kento’s. it maybe doesn’t taste nearly as good as his likely does, but it’s sweet and you enjoyed the time spent on it. as you close the app in post-reply sent shame, you inwardly hope the sight of your result is praise-worthy.

it takes three days before you finally dare to open the app again. it may sound invariably insane, but even the potential that he might reply fills you with a sense of deep, overwhelming dread. the thought of being perceived by him gives you equal amounts of anxiety as it does excitement. both feelings differ but they feel exactly the same in your body. your nervousness seems to be warranted as you log on, eyes wide with perceivable shock, and 123 highlight in a red circle on your notifications tab. once again, there’s the instant drop of your heart in your chest straight to your gut. you freeze for a moment, terrified for some reason to tap it. it’s clear that he’s replied or something since you’ve never had more than ten notifications on a good day. you tap the frightening little bell and swallow hard. you try your hardest not to eagerly take it all in at once and instead scroll all the way down where the notifications first begin. when you do, you’re left gasping at the words on the screen.

𝐍𝐀𝐍𝐀𝐌𝐈 𝐊𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐎. quoting shethesea: ‘the best you could’ was perfect! wow. color me impressd :-)

shethesea: [ image ] did the best i could heh. 😅

𝐍𝐀𝐍𝐀𝐌𝐈 𝐊𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐎. followed you.

𝐍𝐀𝐍𝐀𝐌�� 𝐊𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐎. and 23 others liked your tweet.homemade lemon bread. nothing crazy, but it’s delicious. 𝐍𝐀𝐍𝐀𝐌𝐈 𝐊𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐎. replying to shethesea: so it’s not just wreath! it looks crazy delicious :-D 𝐍𝐀𝐍𝐀𝐌𝐈 𝐊𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐎. quoting shethesea: oh man i think i found a rival, you all.

shethesea: [ image ] decided to make blueberry cheesecake from scratch on a whim. 😅

꒰ elusivemoon io ꒱ and 64 others followed you.

scrolling through all the notifications, you can’t help the way you’re beaming, a child-like and wondrous smile on your face as you see he not only replied to you, but followed you, scoped through your account, and boosted your hobby work as well. you blink in sheer shock as you see the stream of likes and retweets flooding in. what makes you hold your breath is the little notification on your dm tab that reads (3). you don’t know it right then, how could you, but that bolded notification in the bar and your choice to tap on it seals your fate.

kento: what a pleasant surprise! someone just as enthusiastic about baking as me. i can’t believe this is your first time showing us your results! thank you for participating in the follow-along. kento: lovely presentation. i looked through your media and salivated at your blueberry cheesecake. kento: so i am here to ask what i have to do to get my hands on that recipe? i’d love to do a video over it and try it myself, with credit and your permission of course.

shocked doesn’t even begin to cover the way you feel. butterflies unfurl ruthlessly in your stomach, making you clutch at your gut as your lips purse. the nanami kento just dm’d you. he sees your baked goods; he likes them. he sees your follow-along to his video; he likes it. he sees what you do in your spare time and he admits he’s impressed by you. he wants something from you to add substance to his channel. the realization of it all finally settles in and your lips part, your phone slipping from your hand and falling right onto the surface of your mattress. that’s when you just start squealing and haphazardly moving yourself. before you know it, you’re in your bed belly-first, face stuffed into your pillow while your legs kick rapidly behind you. thrilled, you roll onto your back with a content sigh and a smile. you stare at the ceiling, recalling it all over again and you excitedly grab your pillow, cover your face yet again, and continue as you were. “oh my god, oh my god, oh my god! is this real?” you ask the ether in disbelief. “nanami-fucking-kento?” taking a deep breath, you steady yourself and finally reply to his dms.

you: i cannot believe THE nanami kento is following me, saw my treats, and is now dm-ing me for a RECIPE. am i dead? is this heaven??? you: wow, thank you so much for all your support. i’m so shocked that you replied, let alone followed me and sent me a dm. :3 i’m honored you like the things i’ve baked and i’d be even more honored to have you recreate my own recipe!!!

it takes him much less time to reply ꒰ an hour ꒱ than it did you ꒰ two days ꒱.

kento: haha i’m just a guy at home with his cat. i’m really nothing special to think you’ve died over, but i’ll admit your enthusiasm does boost my ego a little. kento: are you kidding? i’d be a fool not to recognize talent and support it wholeheartedly. have you considered making videos of your own?

you: i have, but i tried once, realized the extent of time content creation takes, and realized i was a salary girl with work in the morning.

kento: well now i /really/ have to do this recipe in your honor.

and you’re not sure what emboldens your next words, but you don’t regret them and you’re only mildly embarrassed about them. it isn’t you blatantly shooting your shot, but it’s definitely you laying the groundwork to do such a thing. after all, nanami kento might just be the man of your dreams.

you: i don’t know. what if you take off with my recipe and i never hear from you again? 😔

kento: unfortunately, you have evidence against me so my diabolical plan to heist your blueberry cheesecake recipe without consequence has failed. i’ll /need/ the exact measurements so i’ll eat this cost, i suppose. kento: i fear i may be stuck in contact with you :-)

and it probably shouldn’t make your heart skip. it’s your first time speaking to him and he’s obviously playing along with you, definitely not reciprocating your slightly flirtatious efforts, but you can’t help it. even his humor confirms he may just be the man of your dreams.

11:04 am. kento:

testing, testing. one two three.

it takes three weeks of back-and-forth communication before you toss it out to the wind that, perhaps, it’s a good time for the two of you to exchange numbers and shift your consistent messaging to something a bit more formal and casual simultaneously. you use the excuse that keeping up with the app just to talk to him is adding to your insane amount of time spent online lately. he teases you initially about getting onto the app just to respond to him, about not being able to leave him waiting, but you know it’s the truth. you love talking to kento. sure, the first few days you’re arguably starstruck, but by day five, there’s a budding sense of comfort and casual dialogue exchange. you stop thinking about him as the nanami kento and start to see him as the guy who’s a blossoming friend that you just so happen to have an impossible crush on. you both have a great deal in common, from your love of baking to your surprisingly shared love of classical music and bad movies. your interest in him romantically has yet to waiver in the slightest, but you understand that even if you both talk every day, there’s no way he sees you as more than an online companion in his same realm of interests. he’s half a world away in japan while you’re wading around the west. you already have to jump through time zone hoops just to catch each other and build a friendship. still, you can’t help the way your heart flutters when you get a notification from him. you can’t stop the butterflies that swarm when you make a treat and post it on the timeline only to have him quote it and brag that he got to see it before anyone else.

11:07 am. you:

received. and excuse me, what time is it for you, sir?

11:08 am. kento:

a very measly 1:08 am. it’s morning for us both :-)

11:10 am. you:

kento !!! sir, go to bed.

when he finally responds, you find yourself in a similar state as when you notice his follow and retweets: your mouth slightly parts and your eyes are glued to your screen as your stomach turns flips where you stand, which just so happens to be right in the middle of your kitchen.

11:11 am. kento:

and why would i do that when talking to you is on the table? i’m a man of indulgence after all.

꒰ 4 𝐍𝐄𝐖 𝐌𝐄𝐒𝐒𝐀𝐆𝐄𝐒 ! ꒱

5:35 pm. kento:

i think we should watch ‘the happening’ hm. i can’t say it’s “bad” but it really might not be good. 5.0 rating. it’ll be just like flipping a coin :-) what do you think?

it seems like he’s always punctual, prompt out of habit and respect for your time. a true gentleman through and through just like you always believed him to be. your feet have just barely tiptoed over the threshold and into your home before he texts you. it doesn’t occur to you that he’s memorized your schedule. all the ways time weaves between the two of you hardly ever crosses your mind.

interestingly, you don’t realize you swear off all your monday evenings without either of you ever actually agreeing to it. interestingly, you don’t realize that it’s been three months already in full and nearly two months worth of your monday evenings reserved for his tuesday mornings and a bad movie over facetime and tea. most interestingly, the only thing you do realize is that he’s now embossed into your habits, a consistent variable in all of your equations.

5:42 pm. you:

i’ve seen it already. 😞 got another?

5:45 pm. kento:

i always have a backup plan, of course. ‘twilight’ perhaps? i won’t lie it looks especially awful.

5:50 pm. you:

saw that, too. but honestly take that back because that movie is a cult classic. 🫤

5:52 pm. kento:

i can almost assure you it is not.

5:55 pm. you:

ope! let’s watch it anyway. i just found an opportunity to prove you wrong and i’m taking it.

5:57 pm. kento:

if you’re wrong and i find it to be especially awful like i know i will, you do realize i’m going to make you watch ikiru again, right? you ought to consider stocking up on kleenex.

5:59 pm. you:

if i catch you having even a sliver of enjoyment like i know i will, you do realize i’m going to make you watch new moon next, right?

6:01 pm. kento:

if i’m honest, i’ll watch anything you want. but still, you’re truly insufferable :-P are you almost ready?

6:03 pm. you:

i’m making tea. are you rushing me, nanami kento?

6:04 pm. kento:

no i would /never/ but…you can’t call me for that? :-( i’m only indirectly emphasizing a need for haste due to the sheer capacity of which your absence has been felt.

6:05 pm. you:

going shakespeare to rush me is /crazy/ truly unprecedented. perhaps, dare i say it, unnecessary even? 🤔 if you miss me then just say that. 😌

6:06 pm. kento:

i’m not rushing you but i wouldn’t mind if you hurried. i miss you.

you stare at the screen for approximately four minutes, heart oscillating wildly, breathing deeply as you feel it sinking and soaring in your chest ceaselessly. you almost can’t take it. every moment you spend seems to be a blend of familiarity and comfort, something remnant of home. there are moments when you blink and for a twinkle, you feel like you’re his. all his. his impatience is what drags you out of disbelief and reticence.

kento. facetime video

six months pass in a dizzy blur and you’re quite certain that you are very much doomed. between the daily facetime calls, sitting on the phone with one another until the wee hours of the night for you or for him, baking together over calls, and the night/day-long movie marathons, it’s official. nanami kento is the man of your dreams and despite the offensive amount of distance and time scattered between your bodies, you can no longer fight how badly you want to call him yours. you’ve realized a few things about kento in the time you’ve known him, the first thing being that this man is as consistent as they come. he texts you every morning between 9-9:30 am your time, 1 am his time. in fact, he’s so consistent that you don’t think he’s gone to bed before the sun rises on his side of the world since the day you exchanged imessage details. consistently, he stays up just to greet you, just to know how your day is starting and going. the second thing you notice is the intensity of his reliability. if he says he’ll do something, he does it without fail, without falter. he doesn’t give excuses, only results, responsibility, and reasons. the third and most impactful thing to your heart is his shamelessness when he’s fond of someone.

it started a week ago when he hit you with a goodnight text so charged, you almost couldn’t bring yourself to sleep. you mused over the words, turned them every which way in your mind to discover the hidden meaning behind them before accepting he meant exactly what he said: ‘goodnight. i’ll be here when you wake up, but i’ll most certainly miss you.’ and he was there right when you woke up to greet you. you find it strange the way he barely did anything at all to weasel his way into the most important parts of your life. he slid in with ease and without warning. the most frightening part is the growing perceivable desire to be there with you even though he can’t be there with you. this little development is exactly what lands you where are right now: waiting in line for a very specific laptop you’ve been saving for and waiting to release for months. it’s unbearably frigid outside, early december air nipping away at everyone’s comfort. you’re as bundled as you can be, but it somehow isn’t enough.

7:17 am. you:

kentooooo, i made it, but the line is huge and it’s so cold. i’m going to be waiting forever, too. 😔

7:19 am. kento:

poor thing. are you sure you want to do this? are you bundled? will you be warm enough?

7:20 am. you:

i’m bundled but bored 😔 i’m sure but shivering. 😔 my legs are bouncing like i’m a bunny or smth just to produce /perceived/ warmth. that’s how cold it is.

7:22 am. kento:

aw does my bunny want some company while she waits? :-) i have something to ask anyway.

there he goes again, catching you off guard with his sudden burst of cute responses that teeter on the line of flirting you can’t seem to appropriately decipher. it’s the way he indirectly, even playfully, calls you his. it’s the string of worry you can feel in all his questioning. it’s the certainty you have in your bones that he’s the one who wants to keep you company. for a split second, it almost dawns on you that he’s courting you. almost. you dismiss it as the reminder of time and distance plague you.

7:23 am. you:

what exactly are you suggesting? hmm?

a few minutes pass and no reply comes despite him reading it immediately as it delivers. you know it’s not abnormal for some time to pass between replies. you know that he’s a busy influencer; he has content to create and other people that require his attention, but you can’t help but want his reply as fast as all the others have come. you can’t help but want him to take care of you first before his work, worry about you first before all of the other arguably more important things.

i had his attention first anyway.

the simple thought crosses your mind and shock follows. you can’t believe you had such a blatant and disgustingly possessive thought. your feelings for him are blossoming far out of your control, you fear. the fear is solidified when your phone suddenly starts ringing and excitement pours out of you when you realize kento is facetiming you, entirely unplanned and unprovoked. you answer timidly, earphones in as you look at the screen nervously waiting to connect. when it does, you’re met with eyes that pool with warmth looking at you pleasantly and a slow smile spreading across supple lips. his blonde hair is tousled around his head and a loose white tee clings to his frame. you gulp, swallowing down the thick sweetness rising like bile. your heart goes wild for him, fluttering at first before becoming a monstrosity of rapid beats and ceaseless thumping. “well hello, what a bundled bunny we have here indeed. cute,” he breathes. an arm rises to rest behind his head as he lays in bed, holding his phone slightly above him to give you a clear view of his coziness. your voice is soft and mumbled as you speak. “not cute, but this is a pleasant surprise.” “very cute,” kento emphasizes. “i know it’s sudden, but i couldn’t give you wiggle room to reject me if i asked to call.” “as if i’d ever,” a grumble as your eyes move to the side. kento, amusement tugging on his lips, chuckles.

“what was that, bunny?” “i said…good evening.” you lie. you know he heard you and you know that you meant it, but when he asks you to repeat yourself clearly, you think it might tell him much more than you want him to know, at the moment. he hums curiously, studying you with a fixed gaze until you feel bashful. “good morning to you.” “what are you doing?” a soft inquiry laden with coyness, as if you haven’t been talking to him each day for a string of months now. he tilts the camera, revealing a bundle of white fluff curled up into a ball right next to his hip. his cat, satoru. as if well aware he’s now being observed, piercing cerulean eyes open wide and stare into the screen intently, a perpetually grouchy look gracing his features. “i’m in bed, snuggling with my beloved cat who hates me.” kento jokes, petting the cat’s head to which satoru hisses and bares his teeth. “aw, cute catoru. he’s so evil but so adorable.” you both laugh. “it’s getting late there, isn’t it?” “it is and i want to rest, but i have something particularly pathetic on my mind that i can’t shake. if you have time, could you help me out?” your agreement is immediate, almost a given. “of course, kento. i’ll help you with anything.” he sighs, a wistful breath full of an emotion you can’t pin down, perhaps longing. “what’s silly is i know that. i know that very well.” “so what is it then?” you hum, a push for him to go on. “well, i’ve found myself in an interesting predicament. i like someone, a good friend of mine. quite a lot. and i’m at a loss as to how to make it obvious without putting myself in line for harsh rejection and ruining our friendship. it’s very dear to me, as i don’t have many.” “oh,” you murmur, disappointment filling your body with pressure and heat, embarrassed by your own adoration of him. “well, kento, i highly doubt anyone would reject you. you’re…y-you’re kinda the total package, you know?” it comes out as a mumble and a simple point of encouragement, but it feels like a confession the way you’re trying to bury all the loving connotation under your breath. “is that so? well, then i’m struggling to understand why she hasn’t shown the kind of interest in me i want. i’ve…tested the waters a little bit.” you shrug, eyes down as you speak to avoid him seeing the despondence in your eyes. you keep telling yourself that it’s always been silly to like him as more than a cherished friend, to fantasize about him in a romantic light even after getting close. you sigh. “maybe you’re not being clear. what have you tried?”

“admittedly, there’s only so much i can do, as it stands. i have tried to be subtle about it, but at the same time, maybe i’m far too subtle.” “hm, maybe you should confess, you know?” your voice is sad, but kento is your friend and he’s confiding in you. you take a deep breath and finally look at him. “some girls like grand gestures. maybe you could try that and segue into telling her how you feel.” “a grand gesture?” he questions, brows raising as his head tilts. you nod. “yeah, like whisk her away on a day together and then confess.” “i feel it might be difficult to do so, but say i do it. say i go out of my way and i whisk her off for a day with me. won’t that be very telling of my feelings?” “isn’t that what you want? more clarity? be bold, kento. don’t play it safe or you might miss your shot.” don’t make the mistake i’m making. “like i said, you’re the total package. no one would reject you unless they’re blind, don’t like nice men with manners who mind their business, or just…isn’t the one for you.”

because maybe i am.

days pass and form into weeks before you’re worried it’s becoming painfully obvious that you’re sort of, kind of avoiding kento now, but you don’t know what exactly to say to him. your enthusiasm since his admittance to liking someone else is drained. you want to talk to him, but talking to him seems to be coupled with deeply rooted anxiety and soft sadness. you know it already, but now you can’t even delude yourself: there’s no chance for you with him. you have to fix the way you think of him, and fast, or you’ll watch your friendship fizzle out, buried under a heavy avalanche of your jealousy, insecurity, and unrequited affections. the friendship is still important and impactful even if it can never lead to romantic love, and you need to start acting like it. the truth is, there’s a thick fear slowly brewing under the surface of losing your consistent communication and gentle companionship. so when he texts you for the third consecutive morning at the exact same time, you reason that he’s doing nothing but proving himself and his position in your life. you’ll still be important to him even if he starts to see someone. right?

9:30 am. kento:

good morning bunny. i hope you’re okay. i haven’t heard from you lately. i miss you a lot :-(

‘bunny’ seems to be a new integration from your facetime fiasco during your laptop acquisition. you don’t mind it, but it makes the indirect friendzone hit even harder. that sickening, fuzzy feeling fills your gut; yearning floods your chest. underneath all of it is a dull ache, a painful anticipation of loss. but it’s impossible not to adore him, not to find endearment in everything he says and does. it’s impossible not to be riddled by your own feelings when he gives you cute names, texts you each morning and evening, stays up late just to speak to you, sends you pictures of the mundane but loveliest aspects of his day.

9:43 am. you:

i’m sorry. i haven’t felt the best lately.

9:47 am. kento:

feeling sick, dear? make sure you rest and stay hydrated for me, okay?

you groan, reading while a hand clutches at the fabric covering your stomach. saccharinity seeps from your lonely pores and drenches you in an unbreakable and loving reverence. it dawns on you right then. the longer you know him, the closer you get to him, the more you spend time talking about nothing and it feels like everything, you’re slowly submerging into the depths of a sink hole that steadily fills up with love, genuine love decoupled from any fantasy or pretense you once had of him.

for you. god do i want to be for you.

9:50 am. you:

eh, it’s more emotional sickness. got news i don’t think i wanted to get and it’s been rough emotionally. don’t worry about me. i’ll bounce back. i always do.

he seems to leave it at that and you assume that, for the first time, kento goes to bed at a slightly reasonable hour for him ꒰ 2 am ꒱, which isn’t very reasonable at all, but it’s better than knowing he stays up until the crack of dawn or until whenever you bid him farewell for your busyness throughout your day. yet, somehow, the shift in his behavior feels like an indication.

did he tell her? is he seeing someone now? is his attention already being divided?

you feel silly for your string of panicked thoughts and the way anxiety finds comfort settling in the chasm of your chest for over an hour when out of the blue, he responds.

11:10 am. kento:

sorry, bunny. i was packing. anyway i always worry about you. always. what if i told you i had good news that might cheer you up?

you swallow the lump of your relief hard. it sinks and swirls around your lungs so swiftly that you feel a little breathless.

11:19 am. you:

oh yea? give it your best shot.

11:22 am. kento:

i’m taking a trip near your area to film content with another baker. i would love to meet my bunny in person finally…if you’re willing to, that is.

and now here you stand, frozen in disbelief at the words you’ve just read. you read the text repeatedly, in rapid succession, confirming its content and its meaning. for a moment, you stop your breathing and stare. you thought that you’d both carry on like this, your hopeless feelings and his relentless consistency always having the distance between them in common. it was supposed to be easier in theory and practice to move past your pointless emotions because you weren’t ever going to have to look in his eyes for too long. there would always be a way to hide the severity of your fondness from him. although, underneath your disbelief is sheer excitement.

11:27 am. you:

you’re coming here?! from japan?! AND YOU WANT TO SEE ME?! UH, NANAMI KENTO!!! DUH! you were so right. that news did cheer me up a bit. when are you coming?

11:27 am. kento:

my flight is booked three days from now. i’ll only be there for the weekend.

11:30 am. you:

only two days? 😞 will we have time to meet between your work? i don’t want to get in the way.

11:32 am. kento:

you don’t know by now that i’ll always make time for you?

as you stand in your bedroom, phone clutched in tensed fingers, it becomes quite clear that you’re doomed. you’re absolutely doomed. devastation. you’re sure this can only end in your devastation.

the last couple of days have been interesting, to say the least. you danced the line of excitement and anxiety, but you also planned relentlessly with kento. so much so that you have to keep reminding him that his trip is intended to be a work event and not solely so the two of you can have fun together. he always only responds in a tender hum and asks you about what places you frequent and places you’ve never been. it’s facetime calls full of “what’s the weather going to be like?” and “don’t worry about your precious catoru. my neighbor geto will care for him. he likes him much more anyway.” it’s kento changing the destination of his flight to arrive at an airport closest to you. it’s the two of you coordinating schedules and his murmurs that he can’t wait. it’s the utter lack of mention about his content filming with another influencer. it’s the fact that it feels like he’s coming to see you and your heart clings to the delusion with glee. so now, the sky blazes, the evening a fiery mural above your head. and it happens, the moment nanami kento is standing in your doorway, smiling at you like a fool. you can’t believe it. when you open the door, the last six months of your life flash before your eyes and you see a little collection of messages and moments that all lead you to right now, staring at a tall man with his broad shoulders and sculpted, blond hair, gentle eyes gazing back at you with a boyish smile, carrying a suitcase in hand and a jacket draped over his arm. he went from being your guilty pleasure to being a mutual, from a mutual to a kind-hearted and loving friend, from a good friend to a heart-bursting crush, from a little crush to being the man you are undoubtedly in love with, a man that you’d give your blood, sweat, tears, and every dollar you have for even a fraction of a chance with. “you’re…actually here…” a murmur made with a distant voice, soft and full of wonder. “you’re…” kento nods, his voice equally tender but flooding with tepidness. “i’m here, bunny.” “i have to say. this wasn’t on my bingo card.” he chuckles. “are you going to let me in or stare me down?” you step to the side, trying your best to be discreet about the deep breath you take. kento quietly discards his shoes at the door. “perhaps both,” you tease, closing the door behind him. “here, let me take that. i’ll show you to the guest room.” you reach for his luggage and he quickly pulls it away from your grasp. “don’t you dare. tell me where to put it. you don’t carry things while i’m here, not even your own things.” “i—” you pause, your heart beating so hard you can hear and feel it in your ears. heat fills your body; your face is full of pressure. “o-okay, i’m sorry.” kento’s brows bunch together. “bunny, the last thing i want to hear is an apology when you’re quite literally hosting me for free. you could have easily left me to fend for myself.” “you know i wouldn’t.” you look down at your hands, fingers fumbling over one another. “you always have a place to stay if you’re ever in town again.” and nanami kento’s next confession leaves you standing there, totally stunned and flustered. “as long as you’re here, i’ll be back again and again, i’m sure…i hope.” and you don’t know exactly what he means, but it’s another instance that passes when you catch something in his tone and you almost realize he’s courting you. you feel like a common fool when you just stand there and don’t speak. kento purses his lips in amusement before adding to the myriad of reasons you’re unlikely to ever get over him. “i don’t mean to rush you, but i’ve only got so much self-control in me. i need to know where to put these things before i abandon them anywhere just to hug you. i’d hate to leave such an awful first impression.”

is he…flirting with me?

“i…uh…follow me.” it comes out as a whisper as you hurriedly scurry from your foyer, down the hallway and to your left, right through the threshold of the simple guestroom. a bed, a book, and a side table. the room is otherwise bare. “i know it’s not much, but...” kento shakes his head, entering the room with a pleasant smile. “your home is quaint. i love it.” you stand in the bedroom’s entry and watch as he sets down his suitcase and jacket, only to turn around, stride across the room and stand before you. “c’mere,” he urges, arms opening and beckoning you forward. you open your mouth to speak, nervousness layering your every motion and thought, but he seems to be unmoved, indifferent to your hesitation as he grips your shoulders and pulls you into his torso. you hardly have time to understand what’s occuring before you’re engulfed in his arms, head pressed to his chest. the scent of teakwood, amber, and spice embraces you, too. you’re in his arms and it’s the most comfortable you’ve ever felt. of course yours slide around his waist. what feels like several minutes pass and kento hasn’t moved from his position, keeping you tucked in the confines of his hold with no indication of releasing you. “you okay?” a delicate inquiry followed by is affirmative hum. “you like long hugs?” his chuckle vibrates against his chest. you feel the thrumming with your cheek pressed against his ribcage. “i do now, but only with you.” you wonder if he can feel your heart racing the way you can hear his.

it takes kento a while to be willing to let you free from his enveloping hold. you enjoy it, but you can’t deny the confusion that sends your mind spiraling, nosediving into a faraway daydream of the possible, unspoken implications of his actions since he arrived.

is this normal for him? is he usually this affectionate and chivalrous? everything he’s doing feels so unlike him but also very like him. sure, but a hug that lasts for ten minutes? he hasn’t stopped calling me bunny for weeks. i swear i saw something in his eyes when i opened the door. maybe i’m insane. maybe i’m seeing what i want to see.

“bunny,” kento calls, snapping you out of your thoughts. you look up at him and notice he holds the bottle of tequila he suggested to you prior to his arrival. “you got it.” there’s a thankful smile on his face and you nod, matching him. “i did. you said you wanted to play a drinking game.” “i have a confession.” he says with a sigh. “i haven’t actually drank in years.” you giggle. “same, so maybe let’s take it easy? half shots.” he only hums, but you swear you hear him mumble, “i’ll need all the courage i can get.”

at first, the silence builds into thick awkwardness.

it’s only resolved by the ridiculous movie you guys decide to watch ꒰ this time with the intent of taking half-sized shots in response to every single instance someone says something ridiculously corny ꒱. this time it’s hercules in new york.

‘hey, mister! watch your talk!’ ‘i can hear my talk. i cannot watch it.’

“kento,” you laugh, preparing to take yet another swig. “what is this movie? the dialogue is horrendous. we might have to change the rules or i’ll be hospitalized.” like you have for the last few rounds, you pour just a bit of the brown liquid into each tiny glass, carefully measuring out the liquid. when you turn to hand kento his glass, you find half-lidded eyes staring at you, flushed cheeks and a kiddish smile. “thanks, bunny.” he says, chuckling as he loosely raises his arms to grasp it. you narrow your eyes and pull the glass back. “hold on, sir. are you already too gone? mister ‘i need to have the exact measurements,’ do you know your limit?” kento’s smile widens and his arms fall. “i do. i’ve reached it.” “and you were really going to grab the drink anyway?” you ask, a brow raised he shrugs. “it’s because…i think i’ll take anything you give to me.” “what are you even saying?” you grumble, placing the drinks down and your hands in your lap. the tv drones in front of you both, but the sound is drowned by the way your nervousness clouds all your senses right then. this is precisely what you feared, how you wouldn’t know how to react to his friendliness that feels so close to pursuit. silence settles for a moment; it rests between you both, teetering somewhere between comfortable and all-consuming. finally, kento speaks. “you know…there’s…something specific i want you to give me.” he sighs and sits up, large body hunching over bent knees. slowly you turn your head and look at him. “m-me?” “you. i’m sorry if this isn’t as grand as you might have hoped.” confusion befalls you, and yet your clueless heart still bounces to the tune of his emphasis on you. “i’m uh…i’m not really following, kento.” he grunts, straightens himself up, turns to look directly at you, and leans his face so close to yours, the feeling of his breath tickles your mouth. his eyes peer into yours, curiosity sparkling brilliantly like moissanite before he murmurs, “don’t you know by now that i love you?” kento only lets two ticks pass before his desirous mouth collides with yours. he wants you to know the flavor of ardor on his lips. he wants to know if your longing tastes the same. he’s a man of indulgence, after all.

#𖥨. ݁ 𝐛𝐲 𝒗𝒔𝒊𝒍𝒌 ꒱ ֺ🩰ৎ #! 𝐄𝐌 𝐄𝐆𝐆𝐒𝐓𝐑𝐀𝐕𝐀𝐆𝐀𝐍𝐙𝐀 !#jjk #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #nanami kento #nanami x reader #nanami kento x reader #jjk fluff #jujutsu kaisen fluff #nanami fluff #jjk x you #kento nanami x reader #kento nanami #nanami #jjk nanami #nanami x you #jujutsu nanami

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nojey · 3 years

Text

reminiscing (fans 2)

dreamwastaken x streamer!reader

genre: angst pronouns: they / them word count: 2.1k warning(s): failed relationship, cursing

fans (part 1)

synopsis: after taking 6 months off from social media, you finally explain to your fans why you took so long and why you needed it.

go live. *click*

you watched as your chat strolled in and viewer count go up. your computer screen illuminating your face in the dark room as your webcam caught the nervous look. you were shaking your leg up and down, a habit you caught whenever you tried to calm yourself down.

“hi everyone, it’s been a while since my last stream, huh?” you dryly chuckled. “it’s been about.. 6 months since i last streamed and at this point i think i’ve taken enough time to correctly word how i’m going to tell everyone why i decided to take a break from streaming.” you said looking down at the ground and fiddling with your fingers.

“uh, donation notifications will be off for this stream and chat will be on emotes only because i really just want to focus on getting this out. but if you plan on donating, thank you so much, really, it means the world to me.” you said finally looking at your webcam and smiling a bit. you read a chat and answer, “yes, i’m doing okay. i just have a big announcement i want to say after i tell you guys why i took a break.”

you took a deep breath in and started. “ over a year ago, almost 2, i met this guy through a friend and we started talking. it was very little at the beginning but as little as it was, his texts always made me smile.” you scratched the back of your neck. “and as time went on, we started talking more and more and he just became part of my daily routine. when i woke up i’d see a good morning text from him, we’d spend most of our day being on the phone with each other, i was even on facetime with him most of my streams but i had an airpod under my headset so you couldn’t really see it, i almost always fell asleep on facetime with him. i really fell for this guy.” you fondly smiled, looking at your desk, where your phone used to be propped up and you would see clays face just looking at you.

“then we started streaming together. ‘omg he’s a streamer too’ yeah, and a lot of you probably know who i’m talking about at this point but i still won’t disclose who it is. i uh, got a lot of messages from you guys telling me that i looked super happy that stream and i was. i was always happy when i talked to him. but along with those messages i also got a lot of hate, telling me to stay away from him. it didn’t really bother me because i always get hate when i stream with my guy friends; i was used to it.” you said, taking a sip from your water then wiping the side of your eye as it teared up.

“and today... i’ll be going on the dream smp! with the man himself, dream. dream, say hi now.” you introduced, you waited a few seconds but was only met with silence. you grabbed your phone and sent him a voice message, “clay! you’re on deafen! introduce yourself!” you screamed into your phone. dream then took himself off deafen and said. “hi (y/s/n)’s chat! i’m dream, i’ll be showing (y/n) around the smp today and we’re gonna get started on their house.” you smiled fondly when you heard him speak. “yeah! what dream said!”

so you both logged into the dream smp, said hi to sapnap, and dream gave you a tour. you then started building your house in a forest, quite far from everyone else, “i don’t want anyone bothering you or ruining your house when you’re not on.” he explained. you told dream you wanted to build a cottage so if anyone does end up stumbling upon it, it looks welcoming to them. so dream started building your house for you even though you insisted you do it together. “dream! let me help, this is supposed to be my house.” you dragged. “well we can both decorate inside and make it our house.” you started blushing. “i guess..” you mumbled. you then started adventuring out to look for flowers and some things to decorate the house with.

you started placing flowers down into flower pots when you noticed something. “dream there’s only one bedroom.” you mentioned. he slowly turned around to look at you and quickly turned back and placed two beds next to each other. “this is our room, dumbass.”

later that night you checked your twitter dms and saw many people telling you to stop talking to dream and that you weren’t good enough to even know him. you sighed and powered down your phone.

“i think a few weeks after that he asked me if i could fly out to him and we’d meet in person. i was so excited i immediately started packing and i met him. it was amazing! i got to meet the guy i’ve been in love with for the past few months. i think it may have been a year already. but yeah, i finally got to meet him and being in his arms was the best feeling in the world, i felt so safe being with him.”

“it was the day after that, when he asked me on a date and i, of course, said yes. like who would say no to the person they fell in love with... so we went on a date and at the end of it we were just sitting on top of the hood of the car, eating dinner, watching the sunset and talking about a future we wanted together. and it may seem like we were moving fast but i knew 7 months into talking to him that he felt the same way about me. no matter if either of us disclosed it. i could tell and i knew he knew the same about me. then i went home and everything was perfect, i wasn’t his girlfriend yet though because we wanted to wait a bit.”

“that’s when everything went downhill, i think” you looked up to try to stop the tears from going down your face, but they fell anyways so you just let it be.

“we started streaming more and more and i started getting more hate than i usually got, this time getting death threats, people threatening to leak my address if i didn’t stop being friends with him. it was crazy but i was willing to endure it all for him. who cares what people on the internet are going to say to me? i really didn’t because i was happy enough with him that, that happiness overcame whatever type of hate i was getting.” tears kept falling from your eyes but you didn’t bother to wipe it, knowing it would just keep happening.

“dude you’re so annoying! you definitely cheated!” you screamed as you died. through your headset you could hear clay wheezing. “there was no way i was cheating!” he said through his laughs. “ask my chat, they saw the whole thing.” you breathed out, not wanting to believe him till a dono was sent to you, “yeah, (y/n) you just suck at this game,” you gasped, your jaw hanging then you started pouting. it was clipped and one of your viewers sent it to dream. he suddenly started laughing harder and you asked him why he was laughing, with a pout still on your face. “even your chat knows i didn’t cheat!” you started laughing too, till you read a message in the chat saying, “ew, their laugh is ugly. i don’t know why dream likes them.” you stopped laughing but kept a fake smile on your face.

“then he called me and he told me that he didn’t think we should be dating anymore, or even be friends. and i think it was because he saw the hate i was getting and he didn’t like that. he told me a different reason as to why he didn’t think we should date anymore but i didn’t believe it, but i let him go. because i was not going to force him to be with me if he really did mean it. “ you said, sniffling after so you didn’t sound too congested as you spoke.

after you hung up, you curled into a ball and cried. you cried, and cried, and cried. the feeling in your chest hurting more than you could ever imagine. you just lost the guy you wanted to marry, the guy you had spent over a year going to because of your problems, the guys you saw having kids with, the guy that made everything worth it. he was the only person on your mind as the pain in your chest grew. you tweeted and powered your phone off straight after. you didn’t want anyone messaging you asking what was wrong, knowing your friends they would do that.

“so the reason i took a break from streaming was because of that. because i resented the people that sent me hate so much i couldn’t bring myself to stream. i didn’t resent them because they sent me hate. i resent them because the hate they sent me caused the guy i really wanted to be with to make me believe he didn’t love me like i love him.” now, you were sobbing, letting your cry’s out because you had been holding them in for too long.

it had been a few months and you were on snapchat, seeing that you had a memory a year ago today, you checked it. “i think i literally met my soulmate.” with a picture of you and clay in a discord call. your breath got caught in your throat and your breathing became labored. your eyes started stinging as the tears started falling. it’s happening again, all the pain from the day you stopped talking to him came back and once again, you were crying into your hands and you couldn’t stop.

“i had always known that becoming a streamer i would get hate, but i never thought that i would get enough hate to prevent a relationship i really wanted to work. now all i do is reminisce of a guy i wish could be mine”

“streaming has brought me so many opportunities and i am so grateful for everything you guys have done for me, and for me to be able to do something i love and make money from it is insane to me. you guys have given me everything i ever wanted in life up until that point and i am so grateful and appreciative of that. you guys gave me friendships that i will never lose and never forget. so many of you have told me that i’ve saved you and changed your lives but trust me when i say you guys have saved me and changed my life too. i hope i repaid you back by making you smile, being your comfort streamer, and being a support system for each of you. but i think this is my end of the road. i fucking love streaming, i love you guys. but every time i click that “go live” button or even try to, all i think about is him and that’s too painful for me right now. maybe in the future i’ll find my way back here but i can’t promise that.”

“thank you guys, so, so, so, so, much for every single opportunity given to me, for everything. i love you all. my dms are still open. and this was (y/s/n), signing off for possibly the last time. goodbye everyone.”

end stream. *click*

a tear rolling down his face and falling onto his keyboard as he watched you finally say goodbye to your stream. it all just felt like you were saying your last goodbye to him again.

for the last 6 months all clay could do was think about you and how he wished he just messaged you and told you he was sorry and didn’t mean what he said. that he misses you and he would quit streaming if that meant he could be with you. that all he wanted was to feel you in his arms again and just live out the future you two planned together.

but if you just said goodbye to your chat for your last stream because you couldn’t stand the thought of him whenever you tried to stream. how could you ever forgive him?

the thought of never speaking to you hit him once more and again, he cried, sobbed, screamed, threw things, and even then, he knew.. you would never be coming back to him, with every fiber in his being, wishing you would.

—————

taglist: @loxbbg @bozowrites @noahsfag @sparklykeylime @bi-narystars @axths @cheybaee @letsloveimagines @meatte @julesamen21 @classyunknownlover @bad268 @strawbrinkofdeath

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onesheeptwosheepandachicken · 3 years

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26 Reasons why Qrow is not Ruby’s father and why Taiyang is Ruby’s father

In response to the toxic aspect of the fandom attacking CRWBY and demanding that their desires for Qrow be chosen over canon, or how they feel their theory is more valid than the show itself? I have researched RWBY to make this 26-point Discussion as to why Canon is valid, and fancanon is not when it comes to Qrow Branwen, Ruby Rose, Taiyang Xiao Long, and Summer Rose.

1. “Monty said NO” Most obviously. Monty Oum.

He said in this tweet that ruby and yang are half-sisters…half-sisters, which means they share the same mom or dad…in this case Taiyang….

https://twitter.com/montyoum/status/492070189731565568

Now people have claimed “he obviously meant step-sisters or cousins” Why is it that every time we show the English dictionary to you people or ask you to read it, that you claim you are being attacked or that you claim Monty was misleading us?

2. The writers said NO

Miles Luna debunked this theory on Reddit…

He pointed out that Ruby sees Qrow as a Role model, so she adapts her colors to be similar to his.

And you don’t need somebody to be blood to be your role model.

https://www.reddit.com/r/RWBY/comments/7x3w4s/crwby_ama_w_miles_luna_kerry_shawcross_and_paula/du5d67g/?

3. “Rooster Teeth said NO” Rooster Teeth even said that Qrow is "Ruby and Yang's Uncle" They also said “Ladies, he’s not your man”

https://twitter.com/RoosterTeeth/status/1067205612331782144

4. “But what if Summer had feelings for Qrow? Why does Qrow Serve Ozpin?” Qrow said in Volume 6 " No one wanted me... I was cursed... I gave my life to you because you gave me a place in this world... I thought I was finally doing some good... " So he was saying he wasn't wanted, so no relationship with Summer. SUMMER DID NOT WANT HIM. And he was literally saying he served Ozpin because Ozpin gave him purpose. It’s pretty sad how people think Qrow can only be a complex character if he obsesses over another person’s wife and child. What , you wanna make him Severus Snape, the Lilly Potter stalker who insulted a girl’s face and tried to poison a boy’s pet and publicly outed a teacher?

https://rwby.fandom.com/wiki/Qrow_Branwen/Quotes#So_That.27s_How_It_Is

5, "But Qrow could be lying" Except in volume 6 Qrow literally said "Don't lie...we're better than that"

And in volume 7?

" Long time ago. I just found working alone tends to be for the best "

" Gotta say, I’m still not really used to working with other Huntsmen in the field. "

And finally World Of Remnant on Patch.

" Nice place to raise a family, if you're into that sort of thing. "

https://rwby.fandom.com/wiki/Qrow_Branwen/Quotes#So_That.27s_How_It_Is

6. “Qrow fans claim that Ruby and Summer form a core part of Qrow’s character and backstory.” WRONG! The main accusation for demanding Rooster Teeth / CRWBY change the backstory for Qrow would accomplish nothing.

Raven already pushed Yang onto Taiyang to raise on his own.

Qrow forcing Tai to Raise Ruby alongside Yang while Qrow could regularly visit, and while Summer lived with Taiyang, Yang, and Ruby?

It would cheapen Qrow’s character….blood isn’t everything. Neither are cliches.

7. “But what if Qrow gave Ruby to Tai to raise after Summer’s death?” Volume Chapter 6, Burning the Candle.

Yang tells Blake that she (yang) and Ruby were raised together by Summer and Taiyang…not by Taiyang on his own, but by Summer and Taiyang.

Yang clearly had memories of being raised by Summer and Tai both, which meant that Summer and Taiyang lived together raising Ruby and Yang for Several Years.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=yZkN-53h5Os

8. “Does Taiyang care about Summer or Ruby?” Taiyang was noted to have shut down when Summer didn’t come back…. Yang noted this in Volume 2 Chapter 6, and Ruby mentioned in the first episode of Volume 3 that Taiyang missed Summer. Qrow also said that Ruby is Taiyang’s “Special Angel”…. Ruby has also pointed out numerous times that Taiyang is Overprotective of Ruby. In fact, Ruby's conversation with Penny about overprotective fathers.

9. “Qrow knows Taiyang is Ruby’s Father. Taiyang knows Ruby is Taiyang’s daughter. Qrow has referred to Taiyang as Ruby’s father during volume 3 and 7. Taiyang referred to Ruby as his daughter in volume 3.

10. “Why didn’t Taiyang train Ruby in Martial Arts?” Taiyang is a martial arts fighter. Ruby has neither the build nor the personality for ruthless hand to hand combat like her sister… Taiyang would trust Qrow, despite his semblance. Remember how bad Ruby was in v5?

11. “Qrow’s semblance is not what his fans exaggerate it to be”

Speaking of Qrow’s semblance? He was playing video games with his nieces, taught at Signal Academy, and could train Ruby… Clearly, his semblance is not what theorists make it out to be.

12. “Why doesn’t Qrow treat Yang the same way he treats Ruby?”

Yang is the daughter of Qrow’s sister,who abandoned the team.

During a one on one interaction between Qrow and Yang after yang vs mercury, Qrow called his own niece crazy, after she had been framed.

Qrow was not empathetic to Yang.

Qrow may not like Yang’s resemblance to Raven.

Ruby is the daughter of his two closest friends, so of course he’d prefer Ruby over Yang.

13. “Examples of Taiyang caring for Ruby.”

Volume 2 Ruby was excited when Taiyang sent a package in the mail, not even knowing it was Zwei.

Taiyang was at Ruby’s bedside in V3, and gave her a kiss on the forehead.

He also tried to bring her breakfast in bed.

Taiyang said he wanted to chase after Ruby, but had to nurse Yang back to health.

During the V8 broadcast, Taiyang was upset when the broadcast was cut.

14. “Genetics research”

Black hair is the subtype of the pigment for blonde hair…

Also, Ruby’s got the same hair strand that Yang and Taiyang have.

Finally, black hair is more dominant.

So Ruby doesn’t need blonde hair to be Taiyang’s kid.

https://askinglot.com/is-black-hair-a-dominant-or-recessive-gene

https://www.quora.com/If-a-jet-black-haired-parent-and-a-blonde-parent-have-children-what-color-hair-would-the-children-likely-have

15. “The STRQ Photo”

The photo....Qrow was with STRQ for four years...do you really think Qrow is not allowed to cry on the photo unless he was romantically involved? Can't a man grieve over the death of a female friend that he was NOT in a relationship with? Or are men not allowed to have female friends? Ichigo and Rukia from Bleach for example...friendship. They were his friends, his family. People seem obsessed with the idea that Qrow cannot care about a woman unless he was romantically involved or unless he's their bastard father.

16. “Men and Women…as friends, platonic” Harry Potter as a book showed that a boy and a girl can interact and still be friends…

Why can’t Qrow be Summer’s friend?

Why does he have to be her lover?

We’ve seen Qrow talk about Innkeeper’s skirt lengths and leer at Barmaids who flirted with him.

Also, he’s shown to be bonding with both Clover and Robyn.

People act like he doesn't flirt with anyone , and yet he does.

17. “Bad Luck Charm” Qrow has spent his whole life with his semblance, named after a Crow.

Raised by the Branwen bandit tribe.

“You and I are not the same, you don’t want the burden of my name” Both Branwen and Qrow are names that Qrow hates due to his semblance and past…

People may think of him as cool, but Qrow suffers from self-loathing.

So NO, the Bad Luck Charm song does NOT in fact allude to Qrow being Ruby’s father, but that Qrow hates himself, hence a major part of why he’s alcoholic.

Proof of which is his volume 6 exchange with Ozpin about being useful, which Qrow disagrees with, leading him to drink further. Yang literally said that she had never seen qrow so drunk before in v6.

And Ruby encourages his self-worth leading him to try giving up alcohol….

His alcoholism is tied to low-self-esteem, not relationships.

18. Manga Anthology

Taiyang was shown in the Manga Anthology to have shut down upon Summer’s Death. That impacted his relationship with Ruby and Yang. Qrow? Is relatively unaffected. The good Uncle helping around the house. Taiyang haters and Qrow stans took this to demand that Qrow is entitled to Ruby, despite Taiyang recovering and doing his best to be a father. Anything Qrow does is worshipped like Mother Teresa, while anything Taiyang does, good or bad, is downplayed and smashed. Taiyang loved Summer so much he was devastated by her death. Qrow was unaffected. Think about that.

19. “I like Brats” Why does Qrow spend time with kids he’s not related to? Because he likes kids. You know how there are adults who enjoy being around brats? That’s Qrow. He didn’t have romantic feelings for Summer, he liked being around her because she was like a kid. Similar to how Blake likes Ruby’s idealism? And trusts her leadership?

20. “Taiyang the 2-timer accusation”

A woman on youtube claimed that Taiyang was a 2-timer who cheated on raven with summer, as there was, in her and her friends’ minds, “no way that taiyang could be with half his team” When asked about TaiQrow as a joke, she was angered that people even ship TaiQrow.

But let me ask you this. Are you the same person you are now that you were 10 years ago? People claim that Qrow was somehow cool in beacon…because he’s cool now. But Taiyang, who raises two kids, and holds a job and a house…cannot be ruby’s father…because he’s not cool? And that somehow he was never cool? I’m sorry, I didn’t know you had to be cool to be a parent. I also had no idea people were only allowed to be in one relationship per lifetime. Raven freaking abandoned Tai for the tribe. Summer chose Taiyang over Qrow. People literally make Qrow out to be either an OC in a shipping fanfic, or a Naruto fanfic where Naruto is written to be fawned over by a girl whose canonical spouse, boyfriend, or male friend is somehow rewritten as evil.

1 year…..in 1 year since Raven abandoned Taiyang and Yang, Summer Rose the friend of Taiyang’s who he had known for 4 years, became more than a friend.

So no….Taiyang is not a two-timer…he moved on from Raven.

22. “Why can’t Taiyang talk about Summer?” To WHO? He’s barely got 15 minutes of screentime, and the writers did NOT do him any favors when they had Qrow demand he leave so Qrow could tell Ruby a secret Ozpin trusted him with, before telling Ruby to run away from home leaving only a freaking note. Terrible daughter. Even Yang was prepared to do the same! To a man whose first wife abandoned him! At least Weiss has a legit reason for acting as she does against Jacques, several at least. Ruby? No. Now why would Taiyang talk about Summer’s fighting style to Yang when trying to get her to stop acting like Raven in her fighting style and semblance? Sure if there was more time…but RT at the end of the day isn’t some money-hungry political entity, it’s a startup at the end of the day, they don’t have the ability to do a full anime episode. Also, Taiyang cannot go out on these active missions…he was a schoolteacher who did not do missions until only recently…he was retired, remember.

23. “These fanworks make more sense to me”

Qrow fans have tried using fanworks to justify their theory or ship, the same way Blacksun fans or Adam apologists make similar claims, and even Raven fans try to claim Raven is somehow a good mother. What do these fanworks do? Hate on Taiyang. Dismiss Ruby and Yang being half-blood siblings. Ignore multiple elements of the show or scenes. Occasionally shit-talk the writers.

Every time somebody tries to make a “rwby rewrite” or “rwby alt” or “Qrow is ruby’s father au” they cannot do it without completely rewriting the characters in so many forms and even the show, till Qrow, Raven, Taiyang, and Summer are NOTHING like they are in the show…And ONLY how a shipper wants qrow to be.

Or rewriting qrow to be nothing like he is in the show.

Most Alt or Rewrite consists of making Taiyang abusive, a cheater, or refusing to allow him to interact with Summer, while regularly pushing qrowxsummer at each other.

So no…it’s not that it makes sense to them through some fanart….a headcanon that has been debunked is no longer headcanon. A theory that is shut down is no longer a theory. There’s a reason anti-vaxxers and flat-earthers still exist. Because to them, their theories make more sense than reality. Which is why people still believe Qrow is Ruby’s father the same way people believe vaccines cause autism. Neither are true, and no amount of facts will shut them down, but they’re both popular theories.

24. “Qrow Rings and Cross”

People claim that Qrow was married to Summer or that his cross represents him mourning Summer. Did the STRQ photo, in v3, the same volume as his appearance, not show Qrow with his rings, his cross, and angrily scowling, while Summer was right next to Taiyang?

25. “What about Summer Rose’s choice?”

Remember how I said making Qrow’s character based on solely Ruby and Summer, ignoring everything regarding the tribe and ozpin giving him hope, and the grimm reaper…was bad writing? There’s a reason people hated v5. Raven was proven to be the deadbeat, Qrow was shown to have friends, and that Taiyang knew about Salem, and of course it was confirmed that Yang and Ruby again were sisters by Raven.

Now how about Summer? Team leader….took a man and a daughter who were abandoned by her friend…and made them her own. Yang calls Summer Rose “Supermom” and “Her Hero”…was literally willing to storm a bandit camp so Raven could use her portal to take Yang to Qrow, so she could get to Ruby. And yeah, I know the RWBY critics scream “why didn’t Yang just look for Ruby in Mistral?” It’s a bloody kingdom, and Yang was pursuing a lead, that Tai had given her, and Qrow told Yang he’d look after her sister. Remember that? Oh wait, RWBY Critics forget, my bad. Anyway, she’s more of a sister to Qrow than his blood sister Raven, she’s more of a mother to Yang than Raven, and she’s more of a spouse to Tai than Raven. Good Stepmother. Non-married couple. Relationship built on trust. Blood is not the same as family. (Example Weiss’s remark to her father) (Or Dom Toretto)

So making Summer into a throw-away character who dies so that a brooding jerk of an alcoholic can claim character development? Making a woman nothing except a throw-away for a man to get development is BAD WRITING. For God’s Sakes, even Pyrrha was written better than that! She interacted with team rwby, nora was always helping her out, and so was Ren (though those shakes are a crime against humanity” But when Qrow fans try to demand he’s ruby’s father? Their fanworks make Summer as much of a flat character as Preston Harvey from Fallout 4, where they make Summer unable to do anything but be obsessed with Qrow and having his child, similar to how Preston cannot think of anything other than “Another settlement needs your help, I’ll mark it on your pip-boy”

26. Finally, the accusations that CRWBY are lying.

“You have to be ****** if you believe CRWBY when they say Qrow isn’t Ruby’s father” “CRWBY is lying, it’s what writers do” “It’s okay for writers to lie, it’s good for plot” “I’d prefer it if CRWBY was lying to us” “Monty is dead, the writers should change it now” “Monty is dead, nothing else in the writing matters” “Monty was hiding the truth from us” “CRWBY is hiding the truth about Qrow being Ruby’s father” “It makes sense for CRWBY to lie to us” Look at this…Twitter, Youtube, Facebook, Tumblr, Reddit, instagram…. The first quote? Was a woman who was using an anti-autism anti-disability slur defending the theory. Never have I ever seen people so obsessed with a theory that they would deny reality and be rude to the very writers and original creator. But the QrowxSummer and Qrow is Ruby’s Father fandom group has made countless cases of this. THIS is how they defend their theory? And people upvote, like and support these remarks? SHAME SHAME SHAME

Conclusion:

I get how people desire qrow to be Ruby’s father for ships or fanfics.

Even to where they make Taiyang a hated character just for the sake of making sure nobody disagrees with them.

But the attacking of RWBY and CRWBY, claiming that “this needs to be fixed”, or getting angry at RT for not giving you the non-canon ship you want? Claiming that just because you want it to be so, that somehow your ship/theory has “validity?”

That reflects poorly on the fandom and critics.

But then again…. It’s easy to ignore what’s real and what’s a fact that when theorists and ship-pushers and CRWBY Haters on youtube tells you to stop listening to monty and the writers, and instead believe whatever you want and claim whatever you want, Because surely you know what’s better for the show than the people who worked on it, right? Ha ha ha, no. THAT is the ULTIMATE disrespect somebody calling themselves a fan could ever give. And if you think or agree with that type of logic, you should look in the mirror.

I looked for backup sources to defend CRWBY and RWBY, you’ll find them below.

Backup sources include:

https://aminoapps.com/c/rwby/page/blog/qrow-is-not-rubys-dad/422o_0rbCYuoXj36VoB7obK3MXPZRbPKkz5

https://aminoapps.com/c/rwby/page/blog/why-the-qrow-is-rubys-father-theory-is-wrong/z668_nQlIxu0dmRdRpEPxqE3qlWlZEmoE2

https://aminoapps.com/c/rwby/page/blog/qrow-cant-possibly-be-rubys-and-heres-why/8BB5_LPVCmu2bonkw8eEP3Yokg8m8zJlgNV

https://aminoapps.com/c/rwby/page/blog/why-qrow-isnt-rubys-father/lXXx_5QoUQuPVGo3Wgko3wJ52mMBl7644P

https://aminoapps.com/c/rwby/page/blog/is-qrow-rubys-father-short-answer-no/422o_0rbCYupDKezxPxpdje7dRn3nB8YvZ

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=KPbft3KJd6o

https://aminoapps.com/c/rwby/page/blog/qrow-is-rubys-dad-theory-debunk/d33g_pQEcbu1NKQoMEv0kmDpP6N8bmowkkq

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synchronmurmurs · 3 years

Text

Dead Weight

[ Gen | Nero-centric ]

I scrolled past a particular tweet earlier of the infamous "NERO GO UR JUST DEAD WEIGHT!" cap from DMC5, but every time I see it, it blasts me back to this post I made regarding the parallel to that moment and when Credo told him almost the same thing.

And I was like "I should try to write something about that". So I did, and while it's not really at the level of complete that I would like, I'm happy with where it is right now, because it's out of my system, and I can stop thinking about it. 🤣 It isn't all that long either, so I hope y'all don't mind if I just post it without a cut. 🙏

———

"Ya know, I've been meaning to ask..." Dante lowers his bottle of beer from his lips, placing it down on the curb beside him. He relaxes his posture a little, back slouching, legs stretching onto the road in front of him, physically indicating his question is nothing serious. Normally, Nero would tell him to tuck his legs back in, but at this time of night, in their deserted little cul-de-sac, the only car on the street is the DMC RV, and it, at least for now, sits silent and still.

"Meaning to ask what?" He engrosses himself with the label on the back of his own bottle. He shouldn't be able to make out the words out here in the darkness, away from the soft lights of the dinner happening inside, but the blood that flows through his veins affords him perks such as this.

"Why you came back."

At last, Nero peers over at his uncle at his side, his eyes narrowed into the telling squint that Dante recognises as the first signs of Nero's annoyance. "What the hell are you talking about?"

A corner of his lips quirks upward into a playful, toothy grin. "You really went all the way back to Red Grave with a cyborg arm just because I called you dead weight?"

The way Nero freezes up at what he thought was a harmless question is a clear indicator to the contrary.

He casts his mind back to that day in the Qliphoth. To golden sparks of hell-forged steel clashing against vine and claw. He remembers Dante—a demon himself, with black and red scales that glow like embers—sending him a desperate look over his shoulder. Telling him to leave. To run.

"Nero, go! You're just dead weight."

He casts his mind even further back. To when he was younger. To the day his static life on Fortuna burned down and changed forever. Another man he'd looked up to—a demon himself, with feathers a pristine white that seemed too divine to be borne of such evil—pleading with him over his shoulder.

"Nero, run!"

The insult Dante had picked by pure chance meant nothing to Nero. Not then, and certainly not now. What made him charge forward, what still spurs him on to this day, is a memory of loss, and a desire to grow from his inability to change it.

Nero shrugs one shoulder, trying to appear nonchalant, but his expression is tight and his smile is forced. "Being told to run brings up bad memories. Being told to run means I'm about to lose something again."

Again?

Dante studies his nephew from his periphery; he didn't really stick around after the whole Fortuna thing, and he never thought to ask about it in the years after. Not when the city seemed to be healing just fine. But to think that even Nero has suffered a loss potent enough to have him charge back into the fray. He wonders if that's a blessing upon their bloodline, or a curse instead.

Nero sighs, his smile finally easing into something wistful. "Guess I just got tired of losing family."

#devil may cry #dmc #dante #nero #credo #my writing #i'll polish this up one day #one day...........

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whereisten · 4 years

Text

Sweet Pea

A Haechan fic that’s part of our Halloween Series!

Summary: Who knew the undead could be so..lovely. You hated arrogant singer Haechan when he was alive, but could you love him now that he was..dead?

Pairing: Rockstar!Haechan (turns into a zombie) x Journalist!female reader

Genre: fluff, angst, horror, a little smut

Word Count: 9K

Warnings: death mention, car accident mention, blood and gore mention, wild animal death, character death (and resurrection?), cursing, some violence, cheating mention, smut: mention of penetration.

(A/n: THANK YOU GUYS FOR ALL YOUR SUPPORT FOR THIS SERIES SO FAR!! We hope you enjoy everything we put out🥺❤️ i did not proofread this so sorry for any mistakes uh ha ha)

————

“Lisa..I really don’t want to interview Mr. I-Am-God’s-gift-To-This-World.” You sigh and hold your head down while sitting at your desk.

“Well, do you really want to switch and dive into the dark web for me?” Lisa turns to face you.

The two of you are journalists assigned to two very different topics for this week’s news articles.

You, being the one responsible for writing articles based on the music industry, were faced with the grueling task of interviewing pop rock’s most famous star, Haechan.

From what you had heard, Haechan was an arrogant bastard that gave all of his interviewers absolute hell. He gave sarcastic, abrupt answers that they could barely work from. But lucky for you, you were the one assigned to interview him as he promotes his second album in your town.

If there was anything worse than a crazy rockstar with a bad reputation, it was one that was incredibly good looking too.

You had to admit, from the pictures you had seen, Haechan was dangerously handsome with brown wavy hair and skin kissed by the sun itself. Girls swooned over the way his delicate fingers strummed his guitar and the way his soothing, high pitched voice sang words about love to them.

You had to remind yourself that it was all an act, however, he didn’t give a damn about them or anyone else besides himself.

Could interviewing him be worse than risking your life by going too deep into the dark web? Maybe.

You looked up at the ceiling and bit your lip as you thought about it.

Lisa scoffed and shook her head. “Don’t tell me you’re actually thinking about it.”

“Listen…I-“

“You got this, what’s the worst he can do? Call security on you like that one magenta-haired rockstar guy did to his makeup artist?”

You groaned and placed your head back down onto your arms. But she was right, what was the worst that could happen?

———

[The Next Day]

You were let into Haechan’s dressing room by his manager.

“Well, good luck in there.” His manager raised his brows and quickly closed the door. It felt like you were being let into a Lion’s cage with no way out.

You took a deep breath. Your hair was tied back, your bun felt tighter than it did five minutes ago. You smoothed your hands over your pencil skirt and quickly fixed the collar of your button down shirt.

When you turned around, you saw the legend himself, typing on his iPhone. He was probably tweeting something out to his 10 million followers or coming up with some “sweet” caption for his Instagram groupies.

You cleared your throat, you didn’t want to interrupt him, but you really didn’t have much time.

“Excuse me...Mr. Lee?”

He didn't respond, he kept typing.

“Mr. Lee?!” You said with more volume.

He rolled his eyes and looked up. You felt your breath get caught in your chest. He was magnificent. Not a flaw in sight. His eyes were of a perfect crescent shape and sparkles in the light of the vanity mirror. And his lips were a beautiful heart shape as they puckered before he spoke.

“Yes?” He answered with annoyance in his tone.

“My name is y/n, I’m here to ask a few questions.”

“Oh..I see, well, I’m not really into the “boorish teacher type” but I’m sure we can make it work with some role playing..” Haechan bites his bottom lip as he eyes you up and down.

“Um..I..”

He places his phone down and walks over to you.

“Tell me, teacher, do you have a ruler to spank me with?”

You stumble backwards, your back hitting the door.

“I-I from the Neo Chronicles actually, I am here to interview you.”

He stands over you in his leather jacket, placing his hand on the door beside your head as you cower. He seems to be misunderstanding your purpose for being there, but you did like being close to him. He smelled like fresh lemons and summer. His warmth was unlike anything else and with his face being so close to yours, you could see every beauty mark. You knew any other person would’ve been a puddle had they been this close to him, but you were growing to be quite annoyed.

He leans down to whisper in your ear. “Oh, so you want to be a journalist, okay then so you want to record me? I can make any sound you’d like me to make, all you have to do is touch the right spots.” He says seductively while staring down your shirt.

You shiver and shake off your goosebumps. “Oh my God, Haechan! I’m just here to ask a few questions okay?! I’m not some..escort!”

He steps back and furrows his brows. “What? Then what the hell are you here for?”

“I’m the journalist!” You show him your badge with your name on it as it hung from a lanyard around your neck.

He rolls his eyes and plops down into his chair.

“Boring. Go on.”

He waves a hand and motions for you to continue.

You sigh and hurry through your notes so you can get the hell out of there and away from this weird man.

“Okay, well let’s start off with your name. Your real name is Lee Donghyuk, why did you choose ‘Haechan’ as your stage name?”

“Why did you choose to pair that shirt with those god awful shoes?” Haechan begins to type on his phone again.

This little brat.

“Haechan, please take my questions seriously, your manager has only given me ten minutes with you.”

“And yet, I could be doing so much more with our time than answering your useless questions..” he stops typing and looks you up and down again. “I could be giving you an interview to remember, don’t you think?”

You chuckle. “No offense, but you’re not my type, and also, I’m faithful to my boyfriend.” The first part was a lie, but you hoped he would feel a blow to his ego.

He scoffs. “Honey..I’m everyone’s type..”

“Anyway...what inspired you the most when writing this new album of yours?”

“Hmmm...you.”

You slam your iPad down onto the counter. “We don’t even know each other.”

“I wasn’t finished...Youuuutube.” Haechan smirks as you get more and more visibly upset.

“Haechan...I respect your musicianship, but you’re making this interview really difficult. I can’t do my job if you keep acting like this.” You try to play nice, maybe that would work.

“Well you’re not very good at this job, I have another job for you, if you’d like to try that.”

You scoff and raise your eyebrows. “You know what…”

He places his phone down and crosses his arms. “What? Is it time for the part of the interview where you storm off back to your little cubicle and fabricate an entire interview with bullshit answers I never gave?”

You remain still, silently thinking of ways to kill this man without being caught.

You grit your teeth.

“Write a nice and pleasing story about me, sweetheart. I’ll be anticipating it.” He gets up and walks towards the door but you step in front of him to stop him.

“Listen, you little twat—“

He furrows his brows and gives you a frightening glare. “No, you listen. I’m the rockstar here, I don’t owe you anything, I’m worth so much money, you wouldn’t be able to wrap your head around it if you tried. You don’t matter to me or to anyone else. There’s 5 million of you and only one of me, the only difference between you and them is that other journalists are smart enough to get on their knees and prove that they’re worth a celebrity’s time. Now, miss—what was your name again?”

“Y/n.” You say through tight lips.

“Move.”

You step to the side as he walks past you, bumping into your shoulder on purpose before leaving.

You tried your best not to cry as you headed home that evening. You knew he was an asshole but you didn’t think he’d be *that* bad. You were thankful that you’d never have to see him again, but you hated the fact that it was up to you to create some story about your interview and fake his answers so that he’d remain a positive figure in the spotlight.

It pained you to lie. Would you risk your job to just write about your actual experience and expose him for who he really was? No. You couldn’t do that, you needed this job. So you went home to your boyfriend.

But your boyfriend wasn’t there. He came home about two hours late.

“What happened, Mark?” You sat up in the bed and watched him take his work uniform off.

“Oh, nothing, y/n. The boss just kept me late to finish up some work.”

Mark was lying through his teeth and you knew it. You had your suspicions for a few months now, for he always came home late with that excuse. But you ignored your feelings for tonight, you just wanted him to cuddle you as you complained about your “interview” with one of the worst celebrities alive.

Mark held you close and comforted you as you told him your worries of being bad at your job. He listened carefully, but thought about how he had planned to tell you the truth. He wasn’t working at all. He was staying home with another woman during the day, doing an online job and spending time with her while he made money. She was pregnant and Mark knew that he would have to break the news to you, but he couldn’t, not now while you were at your lowest.

He rubs your back as you fall asleep.

————

[The Next Day]

“Breaking News. There’s been a massive accident on Highway 15. Several injuries and possible deaths are being reported. We are on standby as we gain more information from those at the scene.”

You look up from your computer in your cubicle and at the TV above you.

“Coming to you live from exit 45, it seems that there is a car on fire and an overturned tour bus. Upon closer inspection. It seems that it is the tour bus of none other than pop star, Haechan.”

Your eyes widen. Gasps fill the room as everyone watches the live footage from the scene.

“As of now, we are unsure if Haechan is in the bus..”

The reporter continues, but your focus shifts to the car on fire.

“Oh my God, y/n, what if—“ Lisa starts but you shush her with your finger in the air.

Your brows furrow as you stand up and take a closer look.

A red Dodge Challenger...the car on fire is a red Dodge Challenger.

No.

You take a closer look at the license plate and see ‘WTERMLN.’ That’s his personalized license plate.

You pull your phone out and dial Mark. But there’s no answer. Lisa places her hand in yours and squeezes it. “Y/n..I’m sure he’s fine.”

You dial him over and over again but still no answer. You watch in horror as they begin to pull bodies out from the cars and the bus, they’re covered but your heart aches.

“Breaking news. It has been confirmed that Haechan is of the casualties lost from this terrible accident.”

While the office cries out in a collective “no!,” You run out to the bathroom and start to cry by yourself.

“Mark..please answer.”

But he doesn’t, and a few hours later, you get a call from the hospital informing you that Mark was also killed in the accident.

———

[1 Week Later]

Days go by and you mourn Mark’s death. You can’t fathom that he’s really gone. Your apartment feels strange and empty. And his family didn’t make things any easier, they didn’t speak with you or tell you anything. They acted like you were some stranger.

“You’re not invited to the funeral, we are sorry.” You hear Mark’s mother say over the phone and before you can ask why, the line goes dead. Tears flow from your face like a waterfall. How could they do this to you? Did they really dislike you this much?

The world mourned Haechan’s death, everyone was shocked, vigils were held everywhere in the world. From Brazil to Japan, and Ghana to Turkey. He had a massive impact on the world as musicians from all over covered his songs and sang them on YouTube or in the streets for live entertainment.

Everywhere you went, you saw RIP posters or T shirts with his face on them. His album was released early and topped the charts in all countries. The world was grieving but finding comfort in his music.

But none of that mattered to you, you were truly alone, left to an empty apartment and crowded with memories of your moments with Mark.

They wouldn’t even let you into the hospital because Haechan was there too and there was so much ruckus with the media. The deaths of everyone else never made the news. It was all about Haechan. And that made you even more upset. They painted him out to be some perfect angel, if only they knew what a jerk he was.

———

[Two Weeks Later]

Your family and friends did the best they could to help you move on, but you just couldn’t.

Everything reminded you of Mark, you couldn’t eat or sleep properly.

One day as you jogged through the park to clear your mind, you ran into an old woman by accident.

You had been staring at the fountain that you and Mark used to sit at while eating treats from the food trucks nearby. You didn’t see her standing in the walkway throwing pieces of bread to ducks.

“Oh, I am SO sorry.” You reach out to help her up, but she only laughed.

“That is okay, dear..” she gasped as she stared deeply into your eyes, her curly white hair fell into her face. She quickly moved it out of the way and continued to stare at you intently. Her brows furrowed.

“Dear...you are in pain, so much pain.”

You gasped as your mouth fell open. She read you like an open book and your eyes weren’t even red from crying.

“I-“ you stuttered.

“I can help you, I am a psychic, come to this address, tonight at 7. I will help you.” She quickly handed you a card. You look down at it in your hand then looked back up to respond but by the time you looked up, she had already started walking away. You stepped towards her.

“Ma’am?”

Then suddenly a bicyclist ran right in front of you, stopping you in your tracks. You lost sight of her and turned to head home. You thought about how strange everything was, but even more strange was your desire to actually show up to her place.

You were welcomed in exactly at 7.

The door creaked as did the floor once you stepped inside.

“Dear..I am so happy you came.”

“What is this about? How can you help me?”

You looked around the strange cabin decorated with beads and distinct ornaments hanging from the ceiling.

“You’ve lost someone dear to you, haven’t you? Mark..that’s his name.” She said as she sat down at a table in the center of the room.

Your mouth fell open. “How do you..how do you know that?”

“I’m a psychic, I see things.” She said with a wide smile.

You raised your brows. “Yet, you couldn’t see me running towards you this morning.”

She laughed out. “I see MOST things. Take a seat.”

You sat down across from her.

“What if I told you that you could bring him back and be happy again?”

“No..no that’s not possible.” You shake your head.

“But it is, dear. And I’m gonna show you how.”

“This isn’t right, don’t get me wrong..I miss him..I miss him so much, but I can’t do this.”

You swallowed hard as you started to tear up.

“Why not? Death took him away too soon, right? He’s a young man, he deserves a second chance at life and you deserve to be loved.” The old lady held her hands out. “Here, take my hands.”

You thought about what she had said, could this be possible? Could you be reunited with Mark?

It sounded too good to be true. But you were desperate. You held her hands.

“My father passed away when I was just two years old. But I grew up with him right in front of my very own eyes. My mother was able to bring him back to life so he could be with her and raise me. It is possible, I’ve seen it work firsthand and I want to provide you with this opportunity so you will no longer feel the pain that my mother felt.”

“Why? Why do you want to help me? You don’t even know me.”

“Because..I know that I have a way to make things right.” She reaches under the table and picks up what looks like a piece of granite stone. It has strange writing on it in a language you don’t understand.

“I can’t sit by and watch people suffer.”

“What is this?”

“Listen carefully, this is what you must do. Take this tablet to your dwelling, keep it on a table in the room that the two of you spent your most time in. Surround it with objects that Mark used most when he was alive, then light five candles and repeat these words five times.”

She hands you a crumpled up piece of paper.

“You must say this sternly, do not falter or have weakness, or it will not work.”

“But what if—“ you still stare at the rock in confusion.

“You must do this at 8:23 tonight for it is when the full moon will be at its strongest. It will protect you from other beings that will try to enter our world.”

“Wait, other beings?..”

A harsh knock fills the room. You look behind her and see a door with all sorts of bolts and chains on it from the bottom to the top. She moved to the side to block your view of it.

“You must leave now!.” She jumps up from her chair and grabs your hand.

“Oh! Okay!” You walk hurriedly to the door as she practically pushes you towards it.

“May you be blessed, my child.”

“Thank-“ the door shuts in your face and you hear the lock turn.

You think about all that’s happened and wonder if you should really try to bring him back.

You decide to sit in the center of the living room by the coffee table, where you would play video games with Mark, and lay out items that reminded you of him. His favorite hat, his watermelon charm, and several pictures of the two of you together.

You turn all of the lights in the apartment off after you’ve lit five candles as instructed.

You sighed as you sat down. “Please bring him back to me, I love him.”

You place your hands over the tablet and read the words on the paper out loud, in your best imitation of Latin.

“Anima corpori, fuerit corpus totem resurgent.”

You repeat it four more times. The flames go out.

A gust of wind blows through your apartment, causing your blinds to shake and your hair to blow forward slightly.

Your eyes widen as you sit in the darkness.

You sit in silence and wait for the unknown. Would he just pop up? Would he knock at your door? Did you say “copori” or “corpori”?

You breathe heavily and sit for about 2 minutes in the darkness, trying not to shake as you feel the air become crisp and freezing. You jump up from the floor and turn your lights on.

Nothing’s changed. You search around the apartment and don’t find him, so you begin to feel a sense of defeat. With tears in your eyes you take a shower then fall asleep. How could you be so desperate? You felt like a fool, there was no way this crazy old lady knew what she was talking about, she just wanted to see you act like a fool.

He was never coming back, you had to accept that.

———

[The Next Day]

You’re woken up by glass breaking.

You hop out of your bed and grab your baseball bat that Mark gave you for protection.

Someone had broken into your apartment. You quietly around the corner with your back against the wall.

When you peak out, you see that your door was hanging from its hinges. Your mouth fell open. Whoever this was, was clearly big and hefty, powerful enough to break down your freaking door.

What damage could this baseball bat do?

You heard grumbling and groaning sounds as the person shuffled through your fridge.

You stepped closer with your bat in hand.

But when you got a closer look, you saw that the person was small, slim and...grey.

They smelled too, like raw meat from the butchers market or more specifically, rotting flesh.

“Hey!” You called out and swung your bat up high.

They spun around quickly. Your eyes widened in shock.

It was leather jacket wearing...Haechan?

He grabbed the bat from you, snapping it in two before throwing it across the apartment.

He was incredibly strong, but you couldn’t focus as he then grabbed your ankles and pinned you onto the kitchen counter.

“FOOD!” He yelled.

His eyes were of a white color, like he was blind, his face was a mix of purple, green, blue and grey, and bone in his neck stuck out of his skin. He looked—dead.

His fingers were frigid cold as he gripped your skin.

You looked in horror at him, confused. Had he not been holding you, you probably would’ve lost all feeling in your legs at the sight of him and collapsed onto the floor.

“Haechan?? How is this..how is this possible?”

“GIVE ME FOOD.” He yells again as green spit oozes out of his eyes and mouth, you nearly pass out from his smell.

“Let go!!” You yell.

“IM HUNGRY.” He dashes his arms across the counter in one sweep, causing all of your utensils to scatter across the floor.

“Okay, okay! Um..I..I don’t have anything here..oh my God what the fuck is happening?”

Between the mess in your kitchen and Haechan sounding like the Hulk while looking like something from the Walking Dead, you didn’t know what to do. Was it possible that you accidentally brought Haechan back instead of Mark?

“BURGER.” Haechan grabs you by the collar and groans.

You nod quickly. “Okay! There’s a McDonald’s down the street, I’ll be right back, um.. stay here.”

Haechan shakes his head violently. “RAW..RAW.”

“Okay! You like it raw, I get it, you can let me go now!” You fling your freezer door open and shuffle through your collection of ice cream, hoping to find a frozen package of beef.

Haechan bangs on the counter and grumbles as you search.

“Found it!” You quickly hand him the package and watch as he tears the plastic cover off and devours the raw meat.

Your face crinkles in disgust. What have you done?

About thirty minutes pass and Haechan slowly starts to look and smell better. His eyes have cleared and returned to their brown color, the green and purplish veins no longer stick out as his skin returns to its normal, warm color. He looks more like a human than a monster. However, the bone in his neck still sticks out.

This all felt like a dream...or nightmare, rather.

“Where am I?” He opens his eyes slowly.

You hand him a napkin to clean up the blood and meat around his mouth.

“You’re at my apartment..Um..do you remember me?”

He squints as he stares at you. “I don’t remember much..”

You step closer. “What do you remember?”

“I remember the music, the crowds, my mother..my father.. but that’s it.”

Your brows raise. “You don’t remember who you are? You’re Haechan, you have the biggest ego in the land, you treat people like crap and you even told me I meant nothing.”

“What? I did that? But why?” Haechan looks so surprised, you can’t help but feel sorry for him. He rubs his neck, wincing at the pain he feels when he brushes his palm over the exposed bone. “Why does my neck hurt?”

You shake your head. “It wasn’t supposed to be you..” you whisper quietly.

“What?”

“You’re only here...because I summoned you. There was a big accident a few weeks ago and..you died..my boyfriend died too. I was desperate..I tried to bring him back.” You sighed and closed your eyes. “I’m an idiot. Because now I’ve brought you back instead.”

“I DIED?” Haechan sits forward.

“Yeah, but you were a dick, I just want my Mark back, not you.” You turn away from him, he looks up with sad eyes.

“I don’t remember who I was before, but I apologize for whatever I did.” His tone was so sweet, he was virtually unrecognizable from the man you interviewed.

“That’s fine, Haechan, but you’re missing the point. You’re back now and I don’t know what to do with you. You can’t leave because then everyone will wonder how you’re alive again especially after they’ve spent so much time mourning you.” You rub your temple.

“Woahhh. I was a superstar?”

“Yes, a superstar I hated.”

“I don’t feel so good.” Haechan clutches his stomach.

You stand up straight. “What do you mean?”

“I feel..sick.” He starts to rock back and forth, you start to see the color drain from his hands and face. His tone becomes deeper, he starts to sound more and more like he did before he ate.

“Shit..it’s happening again.”

Haechan groans and grabs onto the table as he transforms back into what seems to be his zombie form.

“Need..to EAT.”

“Oh my God, your appetite is crazy.” You rush to your freezer and find a frozen chicken.

You turn around to toss it to him, but Haechan is already behind you, he growls and grabs the chicken from your hands.

With wide eyes, you watch him devour yet another piece of raw meat.

When he’s done he sits back in the chair and lets out a loud belch. You chuckle as his cute and handsome face returns to normal.

But you couldn’t ignore the fact that you truly had no idea what to do with him.

“You can kill me..since you hate me.” Haechan says softly while staring at the table.

“What is this..thing I’ve become..I don’t know why it’s happening, but when the hunger kicks in, I feel like eating everything to satisfy it. My mind goes blank, I can’t even form normal thoughts. I only see red. I’m sorry for doing this to you, I’m sorry for breaking in.”

Your heart breaks when you hear him apologize and look up at you somberly. “No..it’s not your fault. It’s mine, and I won’t kill you. I’ll find a way. I have to find her.” You pick your bag up and grab your car keys.

“Where are you going?” He stands up fast.

“Stay here, I have to find the lady that got me into this shit.”

———

You bang against her door. “Open the door, lady!”

After a few minutes, she reluctantly opens the door. “Yes?”

You push yourself into her house.

“Hey!” She yells to try to stop you.

“What the hell? You set me up!”

She scoffs. “I did no such thing! I gave you the tools you needed.”

“I have a zombie in my apartment! He goes berserk, like full frickin monster mode when he doesn’t eat raw meat for just 30 minutes! Do you know how crazy this is?!”

“Oh, dear, I’m sorry, you must not have done the spell correctly.”

“No! No, don’t blame this on me, I know you gave me that cursed tablet because you didn’t want it in your house anymore! I knew it was too good to be true but I trusted you! And I have no fucking clue why!”

You stepped closer to her as you yelled.

“You have to fix this!”

Her face fell. She had no idea that you would’ve suspected she was trying to use you to get rid of her curse, but you were right.

She sighs. “Dear...there is no way to get rid of this curse..it is final.”

“Final my ass! I should’ve brought him here so he can eat YOU! But you’d probably taste like shit because you’re full of it!”

A loud groan and beastly sound comes out from behind that same door.

“Shhh!! Lower your voice!” She places her finger on your mouth.

Your brows furrow. “Is that...your dad?”

She looks to the floor. “It’s..my son.”

The beast wails loudly.

“I thought...if I gave you the tablet, he would be released from this curse..but I was wrong. He doesn’t seem to be getting any better.”

“Are you serious? You knew about this..you knew what would happen, yet you let me do it too?” You scoffed.

She nods. “I am sorry, dear, but let me help you.”

She walks to her kitchen and brings back a large jar of lavender colored powder.

“If you mix 1 teaspoon of this powder with water and give it to him every day..he will be “normal” for 24 hours.”

“And what happens when it runs out? How do I stop him from eating everyone and everything in sight?” You snap back.

“I will be here, come back to me and I’ll give you more but this should last you for at least a year.”

“Really? So you’re telling me that there’s 365 teaspoons worth in this jar? Also, why don’t you use it on your son?”

She closes her eyes. “I’ve been doing this for twenty years, I’ve experimented with him, trying to find a permanent solution, however, when I cast a spell on him, it gave his body and mind a tolerance to this potion, meaning that it no longer has an effect on him.”

“Where do you get this from?”

She chuckles and opens her eyes as she looks out of a window. “From the fairies...they do not wish to be seen, but if you offer them something, they will leave a gift.”

You take the jar from her. “I am going to try this..if it doesn’t work, I’ll be back and I’ll be sure to bring him.”

“I hope that you and your lover can live peacefully in the end, dear.”

“Oh, that’s the thing, he’s not my lover.” you roll your eyes and slam her door shut.

———

[2 Months Later]

Living with zombie Haechan was..interesting. The potion worked and Haechan didn’t have those crazed hunger pings that turned him into a monster straight out of an 80s film.

You were thankful that he wasn’t like who he was before the accident, an ignorant asshole. He was incredibly sweet and helpful. He didn’t speak much because of his decaying brain, but he kept you company and helped to clean.

You bought him clothes and eventually replaced them with Mark’s, for you couldn’t bear to see his things anymore.

You’d leave for work and come home to see him fixing things like the cabinet doors he broke.

“I don’t remember much, but I do remember my father..he never liked to watch me sing at school..he’d rather I have a hammer in my hand. He taught me how to fix most things when I was just 7 years old. But my mother..she supported everything I did..I miss her.”

Haechan said quietly as you both ate dinner. You ate spaghetti and meatballs, he ate the same thing but the uncooked version of course.

You felt a slight pain in your heart as you thought about how this must’ve been for him. Surely, he would want to console his mother and tell her that he’s okay, but he couldn’t.

You helped him dye his hair a dark red color and gave him a new haircut. His luscious licks were now gone, but if he wanted to go outside, he’d have to look different than he did before.

So you bought him round glasses and a scarf to wear to conceal his broken neck bone whenever you went to the supermarket together.

You still missed Mark, but you had been so busy with caring for Haechan that you sometimes forget the loss and pain.

You cleared your throat and thought of something quickly to distract Haechan from thinking about his mother.

“What is something that you would like to do? For example, I’m sure you couldn't go ice skating when you were famous right?”

Haechan chews and looks up to his right as he tries to remember. “I don’t think I’ve ever done that.”

“Would you like to?” You say with hopeful eyes.

Haechan chuckles and smiles at you, making your heart run wild. What was this feeling? Why did he make your chest weak?

Was it this new undercut that he had? Or perhaps the dazzling smile paired with beautiful eyes and a dainty nose?

“When I’m here alone, I watch TV and I saw an advertisement for..the fair?” He asks innocently.

“Oh! You want to go to the fair?” Your eyes widen.

“Yes.” He nods.

———

[The Next Day]

Haechan tightens his scarf around his neck tightly before the two of you get on the next ride.

“I like this one a lot, we used to ride it over and over, me and M-“ you stop before saying his name.

“Mark?” Haechan sees your hesitancy. He wishes you wouldn’t be in pain over his death anymore. He didn’t like seeing you like this, he wanted you to be happy, especially when you were around him, for your smile felt like a garden of bright flowers had bloomed simultaneously.

“Yeah..” you hold your head down.

The man at the ride lets the two of you on. It’s the pirate ship that swings back and forth, rotating you guys upside down as you scream your heads off.

Haechan holds onto you for dear life as you are flipped over in the air and held there for nearly 5 seconds.

You giggle while he screams and closes his eyes tightly.

When the ride is finally over, you jump up from your seat and take his hand in yours. He freezes and stares at your hand. It was the first time you had touched him. He felt sparks fly from your beautiful fingers to decorate his skin.

“Come on!” You say excitedly while beaming.

He smiles like he’s just seen gold and jumps up from his seat as well.

The two of you continue on through the fair, going on the worst rides just so you can laugh at how Haechan suffers through them.

After about an hour and a half, you decide to get some to eat.

Haechan looks up at the menu from a food truck.

“Uhhh..do you have anything...uncooked?”

“Uncooked? Like..raw?” The chef looks at him with concern.

“Yeah. Like just a turkey leg..without the smoke?”

You run up to him after leaving the restroom. You can see from the puzzled look on the man’s face that the conversation doesn’t seem to be going well.

“It’s for our dog!” You quickly exclaim while wrapping your arm around Haechan’s. He once again felt soft from your touch. He loved being close to you, seeing you smile, feeling your warmth and love. The two of you had grown close as time went by, and even though he slept on your couch, he’d never felt more at home.

The man nods and hands Haechan a raw turkey leg. You get a hot dog and lead Haechan to a corner of the park where he can eat his food without being watched.

The two of you ate quickly as you hid, the sun was starting to set and you were growing tired.

“No one seems to recognize you!” You take a bite of your hot dog.

Haechan nods.

“It’s the haircut..thank you, by the way.”

You nod. “You’re welcome, sunny.”

Haechan stops chewing, his eyes widen. Did you just come up with a cute nickname for him?

A piece of meat dangles from his mouth.

You giggle as he stares. “What? Don’t choke now.”

He quickly chews and swallows. “Why ‘sunny?’’

You shrug your shoulders. “Hmmm i don’t know,..you’re bright..like the sun!”

Haechan blushes. “You think I’m bright?”

“When you’re not full monster mode, yeah..”

“What can I call you then...hmmm...sweet pea!”

You chuckle and throw your head back. Haechan’s smile widens.

“Sweet pea?”

“Yes! Because you’re sweet and small like a pea,”

Haechan teases and steps closer to you.

“I am NOT small.” You wave a finger.

“You’re shorter than me so…”

You laugh and turn away from his strong gaze. “well, I guess you have …”

You stop in your tracks when you recognize the brown haired man stepping out of the restrooms.

No, it couldn’t be.

You walk up to him and tap his shoulder.

“Mark?”

Haechan follows behind you.

Mark turns to you slowly, gulping as he feels your touch.

“Y/n.. I can explain.”

You step back and bump into Haechan while covering your face with shaking hands.

“What’s wrong?” Haechan asks.

Mark steps forward.

“I-I..wait, it worked after all?” You tear up.

“What—are you talking about?” Mark’s brows furrow.

“You died and I brought you back to life..but..”

Mark shakes his head, thinking that you aren’t handling his “death” well.

“Y/n..no..I didn’t die..I faked my death, I’m sorry..I-I had to.”

“What?!” Your hands fall from your face.

“Baby, who’s this?” A pregnant woman walks up to Mark while holding her back and wincing in pain.

“This is..y/n.”

She holds her hand out for you to shake, but you glare at Mark.

“Baby? Mark, what...is this..are you messing with me right now? Am I on camera? Haha very funny, jokes over.” You hold your hands out and look around you for the cameras, for none of this made sense.

Mark sighs. “Y/n..I was going to tell you, but I couldn’t. I cheated on you with her and got her pregnant. I got into the accident but left the vehicle as fast as I could and escaped the fire. Im fine but..I told everyone to tell you that I died.”

You chuckled and bent over.

“I’m serious..I needed to start over..without you.” He continued.

You stand up straight with tears flowing down your cheeks. “Was I that bad, Mark? Was I that worthless?” Your voice cracked.

“Did I mean nothing to you?”

Mark shook his head. “No..you were everything to me. Which is why I did what I did like a coward, I didn’t expect to see you here.”

“Do you have any fucking idea how much I cried over you? What I DID for you?” Your voice starts to raise.

Mark’s mouth falls open into silence, for there is truly no excuse for his shitty actions.

“You’re a lying bastard and I wish you nothing but the pain I felt when I thought you were dead.” Upset wasn’t even a strong enough word to describe your feeling right now.

Haechan also grows upset when he sees how hurt you are.

“You know what? I’m really hungry right now.” Haechan stepped forward, a low growl escaping him. You stepped in front of him and held his hand.

“No..”

“You look familiar…” the woman beside Mark speaks as she looks at Haechan.

“And you look like the whore my boyfriend, wait, EX boyfriend knocked up! Come on, let’s get out of here.” You took Haechan’s hand and led him out of the park.

You drove in silence, a million thoughts running through your head. Once again, you felt like a fool.

Later that night, you crawled into bed and sobbed quietly, but Haechan heard you.

He opened your door slowly.

“Sweet pea?” He says softly in the darkness.

You can’t help but laugh when you hear the nickname.

Haechan smiles when he hears it.

“Yes, sunny.”

“Do you need a hug?”

You roll over onto your back and swipe at your eyes. “Yes, please.”

Haechan climbs into your bed and pulls you into his arms tightly. You place your hands over his as he rests his chin on top of your head, and the two of you fall asleep soon after.

The next day, you wake up to Haechan rustling through your pantry.

He wails and groans loudly. You jump out of bed.

“Shit. I’m late.”

You run out to the kitchen, Haechan tosses things out of the fridge while green and purple veins bulge from his grey skin. His hair is messy and great and he sounds demonic as he screams. You dodge his thrashing arms and quickly mix the potion for him.

You hold his head and keep him still with both hands.

“Haechan! Drink! Now!” You look into his white eyes.

You grab the glass and pour the liquid into his mouth.

24 hours was up from about 30 minutes before you woke up. You had to be on time or Haechan would quickly change into zombie mode and could potentially leave the apartment to find someone to eat. This was the downside to having him around. But it was your curse and you had to deal with it.

You always thought it fascinating how he never tried to eat you.

Haechan calms down and sits onto the floor while panting.

He holds your hand and looks up at you with teary eyes. “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry ..I’ll clean this up, I promise.”

“It’s okay, Haechan.” You sigh and head back to bed.

———

[Three Months Later]

You and Haechan live together happily, you slowly get closer, sleeping together in bed on most nights and doing coupling things like going to the movies or taking dancing lessons.

He helped you get over Mark, he made you feel so loved.

He couldn’t talk much so he was unable to get a regular job. But one day, the two of you walked by a floral shop. Haechan stopped walking and stared at the lilies. They were beautiful.

“They’re beautiful, aren’t they?”

You smiled as you touched the flowers.

“Yeah..Like you.”

You felt your face become warm as he stared into your eyes.

“I like flowers, which explains why I like you.”

Haechan says smoothly.

“You like me?” You say giddily and tug his hand.

Haechan rolls his eyes. “You’re cute.”

“What if you worked at a place like this since you like flowers?”

He nods “I’d love that.”

And so, you spoke to the owner and helped him get a job there. Of course, he’d have to wear his scarf to conceal his “scar,” but other than that, he would have no issue with preparing bouquets and cleaning up.

He’d bring home flowers for you all the time, making you smile and forget all about the pain you felt months ago.

——

“Sunny!” You cry out as Haechan flips you over his shoulder and takes you to the bathroom.

“Ha! I love hearing you call my name, baby.”

He helps you into the shower then steps in with you.

“Ah! I don’t have much time..”

“I know, that’s why I’m going to help you shower..”

He rubs you down with body wash, slowly caressing your body as you fall weak in his hands.

His touch was soothing, gentle..

“Are you sure you don’t want to call out sick today?”

He whispers into your ear as his hands trail down your abdomen.

You turn to him and kiss him for the first time. It felt like you were skydiving, falling through the blue sky without any indication of stopping, you felt a rush so indescribable your mind went blank.

Haechan can only think of how beautiful you are, he doesn’t want this moment to ever end. You’re refreshing and his chest feels like a hundred butterflies are roaming around freely in it.

He kisses you back slowly tracing his tongue over your lips. You inhale each other’s breath, closing your eyes and adoring the warmth of each other’s skin.

When you have finished showering together, Haechan carries you to the room and lays you down onto the bed. He crawls over you and lays his lips back onto yours while gently pressing his hands onto your sides.

You moan and hold yourself up on your elbows.

You hold his face in between your hands while you kiss for what feels like hours. He gives your thighs a light squeeze.

You widen your legs and fall back into the bed.

“I don’t have much time, go ahead.” You say breathily into his ear.

He bites his bottom lip. “Are you sure?”

You nod. “Absolutely.”

He pushes into you slowly, merging your bodies in the bright room and on the plush bed for the first time.

You gripped his shoulders and wrapped your legs around his waist. Your fingers trailed up to his soft hair as he kissed your neck.

It felt magical, unreal, you felt like you had a small piece of heaven during your moment together.

Haechan whispers “I love you.” as the two of you lay in bed after.

“Is that code for “call in sick so we can do it again”?” You tease him before kissing his nose.

——

[6 Months Later]

You were running out of time to find more powder for your solution. You tried not to be worried in front of Haechan but he knew you were.

You were both worried about the future of your relationship.

You headed to the old lady’s cabin, hoping to get more.

But when you reached the exact spot, you were frightened to see an empty area littered with black dust.

“No..this can’t be..what the-?”

“Can I help you, ma’am?” A man on a bicycle passing by asked you.

“Yes, where is the cabin that was here?”

“You’re looking at it, honey. There was a fire about three months ago. The sweet old lady that lived in it passed away after inhaling too much smoke..”

Your mouth fell open as you searched the area. This couldn’t be real. How would you get the solution now?

———

[A Few Days Later]

You searched the Internet long and hard for a solution but found nothing. You were playing a dangerous game by shortening the amount you gave him, in hopes that it would last longer and give you more time.

But instead of the effects lasting for 24 hours, they’d only last for 18 before he started to grumble while the two of you laid in bed together.

You’d quickly grab some meat from the closest supermarket and feed it to him, but that also meant that you couldn’t sleep at night.

“Hey..you’ve been at it all day. What are you looking for?” Lisa asks you one day at work.

The truth was, you couldn’t tell anyone about your predicament.

“I..it’s nothing, it’s just some old recipe I’m looking for.”

“Oh really? What’s it called?”

“I’m not sure, my mom used to make it, but it involves some pretty scarce materials.”

“Ohhhh..sounds interesting, well, what I can tell you is that when I did research on the dark web, I found a website that included weird stuff like 16th century recipes for potions and shit, it was crazy. They’d be like “you must drink four quarts of animal blood for this to work.” Wild.” Lisa shook her head and went back to her desk.

What if you needed to delve deeper into the internet, what if you searched for the potion on the dark web?

No, you couldn’t, you’d just be asking for trouble.

Later that day when you went to pick Haechan up from your work, you saw that the shop had been destroyed, glass and flowers were scattered all over. The door had been ripped off and thrown across the floor.

You stepped out of the car but was stopped by the owner.

“Get out of here! You’re the reason for this! What the hell is wrong with your boyfriend? Look at what he did to her!” The owner pointed to another worker at the shop.

She was whimpering and holding out her arm. When you looked closely, you saw that she had been bitten. A chunk of her arm was missing. Your eyes widened as you backed away.

The potion..it wore off.

“Oh no..” barely left your lips.

“He was eating her like a maniac! I came just in time to run him out!”

The owner yelled as you jumped back into your car.

You drove around the area looking for him. You're on the brink of a full meltdown. What if he had attacked someone else? What if the police tried to get him and failed? How many more people could he hurt?

You had to find him...now.

You parked the car and ran around a park nearby. It was relatively quiet until you heard bones cracking. You snapped your head in the direction of the sound and rushed towards it.

You heard the high pitched cry of an animal. You peered through the bushes and saw a terrifying scene.

Haechan guzzles down the meat of a deer. He grumbles and makes demonic sounds as the deer’s eyes close slowly.

“Haechan..” you croak out quietly.

His head snaps up towards you while he still devours the intestines of the poor animal.

“Haechan..stop.. please..” you start to tear up. Your lover is unrecognizable in front of you, grey and purple skin and black fingernails. His mouth and chin is covered in blood and guts and his teeth are nearly fully decayed and yellow. His hair falls from his scalp like leaves fall from a tree.

He stands up slowly as he finally comes to realize who you are. He steps towards you but you don’t back away, you only stand there and cry.

“I’m sorry..I’m sorry I couldn’t help you in time.”

You sob.

He breathes heavily and looks into your eyes, he’s confused because he doesn’t feel the need to feed on you, he feels like...crying, and the monster doesn’t know why.

You take him to your car and drive him home while he eats what’s left of the deer. The last thing you wanted was a dead deer in your car, but it was the only thing that kept him from thrashing around and being dangerous towards you. Once there, you use chains to tie him to a chair. You pour out the final teaspoon of powder and mix the drink.

He yells and groans as you give it to him to drink. You had never seen him this bad before. He has holes in his grey skin and his veins are now black. He was decaying faster than ever before.

His eyes were completely white and he spat out black blood as he yelled and strained against the chains.

“Haechan..please..baby it’s me, sweet pea..” you give a small smile.

But he doesn’t stop yelling.

You try to force the liquid down his throat but he coughs it up and spits it out.

“Haechan! No!!” You watch as the last bit of potion splatters onto the floor

You fall onto the floor and sob into your hands. What could you do now?

You remembered a conversation that you two had a few months ago.

“Should I threaten your safety or the safety of anyone else..you must kill me..” Haechan says while squeezing your hand and looking up at the stars.

You laid on the roof of your apartment building and watched the stars together.

“What are you saying..you know I can’t kill you.” You chuckle.

“Y/n...I’m serious...I am a monster, and if I lose control..” he shakes his head. “I can’t bear to think that I could hurt you. So you have to stab me in the head, that’s the only way.”

“You’re being ridiculous. I’d never do that.”

He turns to you and holds your chin in his hand while looking deep into your eyes. “Sweet pea..I love you, but please take care of yourself first.”

You raised your head as you sat at his feet now, the man in front of you being completely different from the man beside you on the roof long ago on that night.

“I love you too, sunny.” You cried harder and stood up. There was no going back, you couldn’t find any solutions and he was only getting worse. You loved him but he was right.

He lets out a loud groan as you walk past him and to the kitchen.

You take out a sharp knife and close your eyes before driving it into his skull.

The wailing stops.

You fall to the floor again and cry.

———

[The Next Day]

You wake up and see Haechan’s lifeless body slumped over.

You miss him so much, your feeling of desperation begins to creep in again. And so, you jump onto your laptop and get to the dark web.

You scroll through many websites, some leading to porn websites, some leading to games with jump scares, and some just leading to flat out dead ends.

But as time goes on, you get closer and closer to what you need, finding websites about satanic rituals and sacrifices.

You eventually find a resurrection spell.

With nothing to lose, you take the knife out of his head and lay him down on the floor. You set the stage and prepared for another ritual, you should’ve learned from what happened the first time, but you loved him dearly, you needed him.

“I call upon the ancient power to help me in the darkest hour… with a drop of my blood…” you use a small knife to cut into the center of your hand. You wince from the pain and squeeze your hand to let drops fall onto his forehead.

“I will heal this man with all my love..” you say a few more words in Latin and close your eyes.

When you are done, it’s silent in your apartment, but your eyes are still closed.

Then you hear it.

You hear a breath leave his lips.

He sits up straight suddenly and opens his eyes. You gasp and watch as his skin heals and his eyes turn to brown. His teeth are back to being bright and white and his hair is luscious.

He smiles when he sees you. “Sweet pea..”

You grin with tears in your eyes.

“Sunny!” You got to hug him, but his body disappears and you fall to the floor.

Your smile fades, you hold yourself up from the floor and look behind you. Haechan sits there with a look of confusion.

“Y/n..” he holds his hand up.

You sit back up in front of him and place your hand on his, but your fingers fall through thin air, failing to grasp his hand.

You didn’t read the fine print..the terms and conditions. This spell only worked for you to be able to see someone that has died, not for you to touch them.

“Haechan..I’m so sorry.” You begin to cry but he touched your cheek, it comes off as a light gust of wind.

“Don’t cry, sweet pea..I’m here..with you.”

And he stayed with you as a ghost for the rest of your life. He comforted you even though you couldn’t feel each other. You still explored the world together, watched movies and slept together. You missed his warmth and he missed yours, but seeing your beautiful face was enough for him. Even as you aged while he stayed the same, he thought you were the prettiest woman to ever grace the Earth.

And when you too had passed, you joined him as a ghost, walking hand in hand as you roamed the world.

come back tomorrow for the next spooky story...

463 notes · View notes

bloodpacks-archive · 3 years

Note

saeyoung and ‘smiling while kissing’ ma’am. please and thanks. i’ll sob.

hey everyone i love saeyoung choi send tweet.

radiance | saeyoung choi

warnings: idk man they be driving. vroom vroom y’know. they be uh. goin. and saeyoung gets sad for a moment but aye no worries whoop

word count: like 2k or smth idk

His hand curls around her waist late into the night. It’s been hours since she pulled him from his chair, her hands delicate as they traced over the curves of his face and when she asked him to please, come to bed.

Yet as the sun dipped further under the horizon and as the stars grew brighter in the sky, he continued to listen to her breathing. He tried to stay still as he laid next to her, tried to stop his fingers from tracing the divots of her skin as his hand fell beneath the loose shirt that hung off her body.

But he knows it’s the stiffness in his body that gives it away. The way his torso refuses to melt into hers, the way his fingers itch to tap at her skin. She can feel it as he lays next her, he knows. He feels the way she tenses to bring her hand down to his whenever his fingers give in to press against her.

She’s the one who gives in eventually, allowing her hand to drift down to where his head lays against her chest. She runs her fingers through his hair and his eyes slip shut—but it’s never enough for him to slip into a rest.

“Can’t sleep either?” She asks, her voice quiet even against the silence of their bedroom. It’s at the sound of her voice that he finally allows himself to move, shifting so his hand travels from her hip to beneath the curve of her back, turning his head so it burrows into her chest.

“No,” He breathes, and part of him wants to say I never can, or to explain that the reason I work so long is to avoid moments like this. So I don’t have to deal with the silence that comes before sleep. Yet when he opens his mouth to speak again, nothing of the like leaves his lips. “Wanna go for a drive?” He asks instead.

When she agrees, it’s in silence. He moves so they can both stand, and then he pulls her through their house. She moves closer to him in the chill of their air conditioner, and he wraps an arm around her—noticing that she’s only wearing a t-shirt and shorts. When they reach the garage, she’s light on her feet, barely letting them touch the cold ground before she moves to the next step.

So Saeyoung’s quick to choose a car, opening a passenger-side door for one of the non-convertibles—he figures they wouldn’t want the top down on a night like this anyway—and allows her to climb inside before he gets in on the driver’s side.

She relaxes into the heat from the car as he pulls onto the driveway and she slowly begins to unfurl from how she’d curled into the seat next to him. Her hand moves up so her fingers delicately rub against his shoulder as he drives—he had leaned into the touch before it ever arrived to him, had known the motion before she had begun it.

The tires hum against the asphalt as he hits the main road. Trees surround both sides of the two lanes, but overhead the sky peaks out. He can see the stars so clearly from out here, catches sight of the moon’s soft glow through the leaves of the trees.

“Music?” He asks, hoping to find some solace in something other than silence. She hums in agreement, and then reaches over to dip her hand into the front pocket of his sweats. She pulls his phone out between soft fingers, plugging it in and scrolling through his music before settling on one of his playlists.

Soft beats settle into the frame of his car, the leather seats shaking with the bass. He moves to turn down the volume, but she beats him to it, allowing the music fall into the background. Then her touch returns to his shoulder, and he continues to stare ahead at the empty road.

He catches her lean onto the center console out of the corner of his eye, notices the way she twists in her seat. Though her touch remains on his shoulder, she balances her chin in the palm of her hand so her gaze can settle on him. He arrives at a stop sign and glances over to her, his brows furrowed at the way she looks at him.

He only catches her for a second, but the sole streetlight that lays above them seems to have decided to settle upon her features. Her hair’s falling into her face, her lips are upturned but her eyes are half-lidded. Not tired, it seems, not by the way she taps her fingers into his shoulder. She seems relaxed, he decides.

“Sitting like that can’t be safe,” He says as he turns back to the road, moving past the stop sign.

“I trust you,” She replies simply. He huffs a breath of laughter through his nose.

“I’m glad,” He begins, but moves a hand away from the steering wheel so he can guide her back to her seat. “But please, sit normally.” She laughs as she sits back, a bright yet quiet thing, and grabs his hand before he can move it away from her. She twines their fingers together, and although she doesn’t twist in her seat again, she leans against the console with his hand in both of hers.

“You’re concentrated tonight,” She notes, and then brings his hand up to press her lips against his knuckles. “Any particular reason?”

“No,” He says, and it’s a lie. It’s so easy to fall back into that habit, to ignore his emotions until he breaks. But he knows that isn’t what she wants, so when she doesn’t speak, and instead presses her lips to the middle of his wrist, he speaks again, “Yes, there is. I’m sorry.”

“No need to apologize,” She mumbles against his skin. He allows her to move him as she wishes—he wouldn’t be sure of how to move anyway. He doesn’t know how to comfort like she does, doesn’t know that he ever will. He scrambles for gifts and spends hours looking for solutions to whatever problem leaves her curled in their bed.

But she’ll just press her lips to his knuckles. She’ll run her fingers through his hair and pull him in and just let him be. He doesn’t know how to, sometimes. She’ll have to coax things out of him until he’s mumbling answers into the skin of her neck, curling around her until he’s sure he can feel every part of her against him.

“Are you happy?” He asks, with no prior warning to even himself. She pauses where her hands hold his, both of their elbows leaning against the console. He doesn’t look at her for her response, even as they come to a stop at another sign. He hears her sigh, feels her breath against his skin, and sees her move to look out the window out of the corner of his eye.

“Can you pull over?” Her voice is quiet, and when he glances over she’s looking ahead. She points to a small clearing between the trees. “Just up there.”

So he does as asked, moving the car to the side of the road. As soon as he’s come to a stop, she steps out of the car. He feels the chill of the night air crawl through the opened door and he curses for not bringing blankets or a jacket for her.

She closes the door then and leans back against the car. When she doesn’t move, he gets out as well, walking around the car so he can stand next to her. As he gets closer, he can see the chills that raise across her arms and wraps his arms around her. She leans into the touch of his warm hands, closing her eyes and letting her head fall until it’s against his shoulder.

“It’s been awhile since I’ve looked at the stars,” She says simply. He doesn’t know what to say, so he hums, rubbing his hands into the exposed skin on her arms. “Do you remember what I said to you on the phone? It must’ve been one of the first times I heard you talk about the night sky.”

He does, of course. He remembers nearly every word she’d said to him back then. He’d hung onto the syllables as they passed her breath as though they were the only thing keeping him alive. He’d repeat them far past when he’d hit the “end call” button. He’d whisper them to himself as he worked—mindlessly.

And now his hands shake as they trace against her skin. He knows she could have so much more, knows that, if she ever asked, she could be living a life of grandeur that he can’t offer her. He can’t offer her vineyards, or Broadway shows, or art of his own creation. He’s hardly a person, more a jumble of code than anything that could resemble something so beautiful—could hardly compare to the work of marble and satin and silk that he could only ever imagine her as.

“I told you that I’d give every star to you,” She continues. She cranes her neck so she can face him, and though he wishes that he could make her more comfortable, he’s hesitant to take his hands away from the cool touch of her arms. He doubts he could do it gracefully, he’s sure he would shake and she’d catch his hand in the air. She’d smile and press a kiss to his hand, and though he’d continue to shake, it’d be under her delicate hands. He could hardly complain about that.

“I wish I’d-“ He begins, but she shushes him, shaking her head and closing her eyes.

“Nothing for you to wish. It was my wish to give you every star I could find in the night sky. I still wish for it. You can wish for the rivers, or the moons, or the clouds, but the stars are my gift to you.” Now, she turns so he releases his grip on her arms. She brings her hands up to his face, the pads of her thumbs soft against his cheekbones. His hands rest on her hips without another thought, feeling the way her shirt slips under his touch.

“Does that answer your question, my dear?” She asks. He doesn’t dare speak, not when he can feel every consonant she speaks against his skin. He doesn’t dare move to change the moment—would never dream of it. He’s kissed her before, he’s loved her and loved her and loved her—yet the shake in his hands won’t go, yet the way his chest tightens is a familiar feeling and one he’s grown to enjoy.

“No,” He breathes, finally. A smile pulls at her lips, and she lets soft laughter fall into his chest.

“Then let me say it clearly,” She replies. “Yes. I am happy.” She doesn’t let him reply, already pulling him the small distance that lays between them until his lips finally meet hers. He feels the way she smiles into the kiss, and he can’t help but follow, his lips tugging until he matches her. They both laugh, breath mixing with the night air. She pulls away, burying her face into the crook of his neck and he pulls her closer, wrapping his arms around her until he’s sure he’s covered enough of her bare skin.

They stand together, arms wrapped around each other, and finally he begins to feel that pull to sleep—he can feel the stars above them, and he can feel her heartbeat against his chest. Hers, hers, hers.

taglist: @drketim @kimjihyun

#saeyoung choi #saeyoung choi x reader #saeyoung choi x mc #707 #707 x reader #707 x mc #mysme fanfic #mysme #mystic messenger #mystic messenger fanfic #kimjihyun

144 notes · View notes

ererokii · 4 years

Text

Repudium || Shouto Todoroki & Katsuki Bakugou

Pro Hero Shouto Todoroki x Fem! Reader x Pro Hero Katuski Bakugou

Repudium means rejection in Latin.

Warnings: angst, cursing, Todoroki is a douchebag once again, mwah katsuki is a king

Word Count: 10,734

Synopsis: Shouto leaves your heart in pieces and expects you to come back to him, but doesn’t realize someone is mending it back together.

Taglist (message to be added): @shoutodoki @shoutosteakettle @miinaashido @saltie @fryingpanitachi @kingtamakimurder @sugacookiies @pixxiesdust @sacro---sainte

➺: Note: This is for @bnhabookclub‘s bingo event! The prompt is Pain Comfort. You asked, so now you shall receive, this is part two of Once More. I suggest you read that first before reading this. Thank you Zeze, Mar, and Gabs for betaing <3

Bingo Masterlist

“I thought you were changing. You don’t care about anyone. You rather see those around you to die than save them. How can you call yourself a hero if you can’t even feel for the public? You are the worst hero ever.”

Those words replayed like a song worth listening, over and over again. Your mouth that could sing dozens of symphonies sang a song that could curse a man for the rest of his life. Words of hatred and malice drowned Shouto to the pits of the earth, each syllable leaving your mouth another pierce to his heart. The twinkle in your eyes that could outshine any of the stars in the night sky were dimmed to the lowest as a waterfall of tears cascaded down your face.

The look on your face could have brought anyone to their knees to beg for forgiveness, stuttering nonsense that was coherent only in their head. He could see it in your expressions. The way your bottom lip quivered as you listened to the poison of his words. Your smaller hands clenched and unclenched by your sides, your body shaking with each blow. Your head shook with nothing but denial as you tried to shrug his words off. You couldn’t.

The grip you held his shirt with was full of pure disappointment, hurt, and dishonesty. He heard nothing in the moment, his cerulean and grey irises staring at the movement of your mouth, watching it open and close with each sentence you spoke. Your lips were curved down as you continued to yell at him. He suddenly felt light in your grasp. You had every right to tell him how you felt. He deserved your words.

He felt even lower than dirt. The steel door blocking him from your life grew thicker and thicker, leaving him vulnerable and isolated. He used to be untouchable. He would stand on his throne, watching as everyone slowly sank lower and lower. A surge of pride and power would fill his body as he watched those struggle to get to his point in life. Until you came, and sent one kick to his throne, making him fall right through as he desperately tried to sit on top once again.

You were a tide that kept washing him away. You caught him by surprise. Your twisted ways made him open up in ways he didn’t realize until it was too late.

The moon illuminated a path of soft light through the curtains in the pitch-black room. The modernized clock resting on Shouto’s bedside table read 5:37 AM. His orbs trained on the time, watching every second change with him. The red digitized numbers are slow to switch.

“Get the fuck away from me.”

His long fingers ran through his hair slowly, lowering his head to look down in his lap as his fingers scratched the back of his head, nails adding a slight sting. A small sigh of distress left him as he stretched his arms above his head, feeling the joints of his elbows crack with the movement.

It’s only been three weeks since his pride took over his brain. Whenever he tried to close his eyes, all he could see was you.

Every day, he would be bombarded with news headlines about how amazing and heroic he was the night before. It was almost as if it was mocking him, reminding him of how much of a horrible person he was. Yet, he couldn’t wipe away that smirk that made its way onto his face when he noticed more people speaking about him.

Big news broadcasting stations constantly asked for him to make an appearance on their shows, to which he happily obliged. Nothing made him more satisfied than being on the big screen for everyone to see. The shining star of the show making an entry. It pleased him.

He mindlessly scrolled through his twitter, noticing some merchandise links and useless tweets from his PR Team. Dozens of notifications flooded his timeline, fans pinging him for meetups, random DMs from his followers or getting nasty tweets—which he didn’t appreciate, but it was the internet, after all.

A red dot caught his attention from his DMs. Curiosity got the best of him as he clicked it, noticing none other than Ground Zero’s profile at the top.

Bakugou: So are we on for that stupid patrol or what? You never responded back asshole.

Oh, that.

Shouto groaned softly, completely forgetting that he had a patrol with Bakugou later today. He clicked the message, fingers immediately typing a response out.

Shouto: Yeah sure. Just meet at my agency at 2 PM.

Bakugou: Don’t tell me what to do bastard.

“Well that settles that,” he muttered, tossing his phone somewhere on his bed, not really caring where it landed. His back collided with the silk sheets, his body relaxing upon contact. His hand reached out to the spot beside him, slowly running his hand up and down on the empty space as if he was looking for something, or maybe someone.

His fingers curled around the material of his sheets, an iron grip at hand. He glanced over, expecting to be met with a pair of eyes or a back turned to him. Instead, he found nothing but the soft light produced by the moon. It peeked through his curtains, a small patch of light resting beside his relaxed body as if it was mocking him for his actions. His eyes gazed on the spot, noticing it was the area where you once laid. He growled quietly, grabbing one of his pillows, chucking it towards the curtains in anger.

Shouto watched the pillow collide and fall on the floor. His lips parted slightly as small puffs of air left his mouth. “Stupid, stupid, stupid,” he muttered, running his hands over his face as he kept repeating the word. His hands hit his thighs with a slap, his nails digging into the skin and leaving crescent shape indents. “What the fuck am I even doing?” he questioned aloud.

“Here I am, in the middle of the night, letting my emotions get the best of me. What kind of crap is that?” He got off his bed, walking over to his dresser. He opened the top two drawers and pulled extra clothes out, deciding that a shower was the best course of action.

When he got in the shower, he closed his eyes as the beads of warm water hit his face and streamed down his body to the drain. His tufts of hair were plastered onto his face like glue. The water jet seemed to be on its best setting for his needs as he stood there, collecting his thoughts.

He placed his hands against the tiled walls of the shower, back muscles flexing as he lowered his head to look downward at the shower drain, watching the water gather around and go down the hole. His long hair at the top covered his eyes, the water trailing down his nose as the droplets hit the bottom of the tub.

“Fuck. What the hell is wrong with me?” he groaned, standing up straight as he slicked his hair back.

☽✧ ✦ ✧☾

You hated it. You hated how weak you became in an instant. In a snap, everything went downhill. You weren’t able to smile as bright as you did before. You hated how he was able to get under your skin and become the only thing you could think about. He was a parasite to you. You despised him, yet he somehow came back to annoy the hell out of you.

“Oh? Is it not? How much longer are you going to deny it? When are you going to learn Y/N? I’m Shouto! One or if not the greatest hero out there! I always get what I want. You were nothing but a stepping stool.”

Your eyes widened as you misplaced your foot, tripping over the ledge of your car. You quickly grabbed a hold of the handle, keeping yourself upright. You felt your cheeks swell in embarrassment as you quickly regained your composure, clearing your throat. Shutting the car door shut, you looked up to the powerful building that was the viewpoint in all of Japan.

Shouto’s Agency.

Just the mere thought of seeing him made you grit your teeth in anger. Your blood boiled at the fact that you had to step a single foot into that forsaken place, and even had to share the same air as him.

The soles of your shoes hit against the cement as you walked around your car, opening the other side to stare at the brown box full of objects that had no use to you. This box was filled with Shouto’s things that he left at your place and the daycare. You didn’t feel like burning them, so giving them back would suffice. Holding the object in your arms weighed more than it had to.

You bumped your hip against the door to shut it, and felt no use in locking it. A small sigh left your lips as you walked to the entryway. Each step felt heavy, like the earth could swallow you whole. Your pulse was beating like crazy, at any moment you wouldn’t be surprised if your heart jumped out from your mouth.

You stopped your movements in front of the doors, watching them slide open before continuing inside. Upon entering, you were hit with the smell of new furniture—which was just the recently cleaned objects and cold air from the ceiling fans. The room was dimly lit, relying on the light from the outside. The main foyer had couches and small tables laid out, covering the area. Men and women filled the furniture, reading a book, or talking amongst themselves.

You noticed that some of the workers were actually some of Shouto’s sidekicks or new interns he once told you about. Even just looking at them made you sick to your stomach.

Clearing your throat, you walked over to the main desk and dropped the box on the counter, watching the employee jump in surprise.

“Uh- Hi yeah, I’m here to drop off some things for Todoroki.”

“For Shouto?” the lady asked and looked up at you. “Hey aren’t you that girl he-”

“Yeah that’s me,” you interrupted her. “I just wanted to give his things back.”

She fixed her glasses and nodded, chewing on her gum as she typed something on her computer. “Alright, I’ll let Todoroki know.”

“Let me know what?”

You froze at the voice, your body stiffening up. Your blood ran cold as you heard footsteps get closer to you from behind until the presence of a body was close. The hairs on the back of your neck stood up as a deep laugh filled your eyes.

“I didn’t expect to see you so soon. Miss me already?”

You growled quietly as you took a step to the side, refusing to face him. Don’t give him the pleasure of seeing you. He doesn’t deserve another glance. He doesn’t deserve anything from you.

“I know you can hear me sweetheart. Come on, let’s talk.” His voice sent chills through your body. His hand rested on your shoulder, giving it a gentle squeeze.

You swiveled around, raising your hand as your palm collided with his cheek. Your vision was blurry as you let out a choked sob, your hand still raised in the air. Your heart was beating out of your chest. The sound caught everyone's attention as they all stared at the commotion. Shouto moved his jaw slightly and rubbed his cheek, wincing slightly. There was now a red imprint on the swollen skin. “Damn, you really know how to slap someone huh?”

“I thought I made my point clear,” you sneered, lowering your hand to rest by your side. “I said I never wanted to talk to you again. I don’t want to see your face again.”

“Well, you came by didn’t you? Must have needed something from me if you decided to show up.”

“I came,” you started, ignoring the lingering stares from the bystanders, “To drop off your things. I could have burned them, but instead I decided to bring them back to you. Trash belongs with other types of trash, doesn’t it?”

The man in front of you laughed softly, shaking his head. Why was he laughing in a moment like this?

“Feisty, huh? Guess that was one of the things I love about you.”

Shouto had the audacity to say that he loved you? Even after all the shit he pulled?

“Oh no you don’t. Don’t you dare fucking say that word.” You wiped your nose with the sleeve of your jacket. “You don’t fucking love anything. No one but yourself. You’re a selfish bastard, how many times do I have to tell you? You are the worst in all of Japan.”

Even hearing those words for the second time in his life, he couldn’t shake the feeling off. Was he hurting? Was he turning upset?

Deciding enough was enough, you nodded in self-reassurance and turned around, only to collide face-first into a muscular chest. “Hey!”

“Hey? That’s what you say when you bump into someone? Some manners you got.”

You automatically recognized the voice and pulled away as if he had the plague.

Standing in the flesh, Ground Zero stared down at you with his intense vermillion eyes, his arms crossed over his torso, wearing that famous scowl of his.

“Some manners I got?” you growled and looked up at him. “Why do I have to move for you? You saw me here, didn’t you? Oh just because you’re in the top five, that gives you authority to act like that?”

His eyes widened slightly in shock. “Hey that’s not-”

“You know what? If all heroes are like him,” you yelled, pointing a finger at the bi-colored male behind you. “Then you guys need to stop being heroes! There’s no point in being out there if you don’t care for those in need! What kind of fakes are you guys?!”

Not giving him a chance to respond, you brushed past him, purposely bumping his shoulder with yours. He stumbled slightly, placing his hand on the counter to regain his balance. “What the fuck was that?” he whispered, watching you exit the main foyer.

Shouto sighed dramatically and shook his head, rubbing the bridge of his nose. “She’s always been like that.”

“Who the fuck is that?”

Shouto quirked an eyebrow and crossed his arms over his torso. “Why do you ask, Ground Zero?”

“I asked because she’s hot. I asked because I’m fucking curious, you bastard!”

The bi-colored male tilted his head slightly in confusion before shrugging, running his fingers through his hair. “That’s Y/L/N Y/N. She works at the local daycare about 20 minutes from here.”

“And how do you know her? What the hell was this shit show that just happened.”

“Oh, that? Don’t worry about it too much. She’ll come back soon.”

A laugh rumbled in the depths of Shouto’s throat as his finger traced the sensitive skin of his cheek. Bakugou stared at him, unamused.

“She rocked your shit and you’re saying don’t worry about it? What kind of bullshit answer is that?”

“Sounds to me like someone is scared to be seen with the number one pro hero, but that would be silly huh?” Shouto asked, completely dodging Bakugou’s questions as he checked his hand, front and back.

“Hah?! What did you say?! I’m not afraid of anything! Especially you!! Now quit talking and start fucking moving!” Bakugou shoved a gloved finger in Shouto’s direction before swiveling around. The ash-blond’s footsteps boomed with each step he took. He clenched and unclenched his fingers, his gauntlet hitting his hips as he walked.

“What kind of bullshit answer is that?” he grumbled, tapping his foot against the cement sidewalk as he waited for the number one hero to come outside. For someone who wanted to patrol, he was sure taking his sweet time.

“Shall we?” Shouto called from behind, walking past him. His chest was puffed out, his chin raised proudly in the air. A sly smirk was displayed on his face as he glanced at Bakugou from the corner of his eye. “Better get a move on. I would hate for you to fall behind.”

Bakugou gritted his teeth as he followed Shouto from behind. Many people on the streets gasped in astonishment at two of the top five heroes walking together. Children pointed at them from across the street, a toothy grin and shining sparkling eyes trained on them.

“Look, papa! It’s Ground Zero and Shouto! I want their autograph!”

Shouto’s head perked up at the sound of his name and looked over to the small boy, who was bouncing up and down. Amused by his antics, Shouto walked over to the boy and crouched down to his height.

A small smile was plastered onto his features as he patted him gently on top of the little boy’s head. “You wanted an autograph?”

The boy’s eyes widened as he nodded furiously, clenching his fists in front of his body. “Y-Yeah! Can you sign my backpack?!”

“Turn around, bud.”

He did as told, almost too fast as he stumbled over his own two feet. The pro hero took the sharpie from his smaller hands. Taking the cap off with his teeth, he kept it enclosed between the pearly whites as he quickly signed the backpack.

“There. Now it looks even more amazing.”

“T-Thank you, Shouto! G-Ground Zero, can you sign mine?!” he gasped and approached rather quickly, holding the sharpie in his head.

Bakugou wasn’t one for signings out of the blue, but this was an exception.

The blonde nodded and took the marker away from him, turning the boy around as he signed near Shouto’s signature, making it a tad bit bigger on purpose.

“Thank you!” he exclaimed and ran back to his dad, who wasn’t that far away. Both heroes could hear the excitement in his tone as he shoved the backpack into his father’s arms.

“I thought you never do signings like this. Has the Ground Zero gotten soft?”

Bakugou clicked his tongue in annoyance, refusing to be part of Shouto’s games. “Whatever, idiot. Just keep on walking.”

“Oh, is someone upset?”

“Shut up and stop talking!!”

☽✧ ✦ ✧☾

The patrol was nothing out of the ordinary. The two heroes made their roundabouts, no trouble seemed to bother them. The only thing that annoyed Bakugou more than anything was the fact that Shouto couldn’t keep his mouth shut. And paperwork was the worst of all. Shouto kept asking small insignificant questions that drove Katsuki up the wall.

Finally getting away from the devil himself, Katuski found himself standing in front of his car, his eyes hard and intense as he had his toned arms crossed over his torso. His eyes trained over a building, taking in the colorful delicate patterns of butterflies and kids smiling on the walls. The paint wasn’t chipping off. Instead it looked like it was fresh, maybe too fresh. The newly trimmed hedges that outline the building bloomed with budding roses. The flowers in the white pots loomed over the ground, each dancing tauntingly with the wind that sent small shivers through his hoodie and caused his hair to sway with each breeze.

Katuski analyzed the area once more before placing his hands behind him on the hood of the car and pushed off, walking towards the door.

Unlike Shouto Todoroki, Katsuki Bakugou arrived with a calm and open mind. Upon reaching the door, he noticed a hanging pot filled with yellow carnations. The bright color of the petals fluttered as if they were welcoming him. He stared, mesmerized by the color before shaking his head quickly, bringing his hand up to the door. His knuckles met with the door once, twice, and finally a third time before lowering it again.

Shuffling could be heard from the other side of the door as the knob turned, the wooden surface opening up.

Katsuki took sight of you, eyeing you up and down before meeting your eyes.

“G-Ground Zero?! W-What are you doing here?! This is so unexpected wow! I’m such a mess, god I’m so sorry! If only I knew you would come I would have at least cleaned myself up!”

“Can you stop rambling and actually let me talk?”

You stopped mid-sentence and shut your mouth, before opening it again. “Yeah uh… why are you here?”

“I wanted to talk to you.”

“T-To me?” You looked over your shoulder to make sure no one was behind you. No one was; you just couldn’t believe what you were hearing.

“Well yeah, who else am I gonna be talking to?”

“I- just you know after I went off on you there… I just didn’t expect you to ya know, come visit. Just caught me by surprise.”

“That’s actually what I wanted to talk about.”

“Oh. Well, we can talk then.”

“Out here? Please,” he scoffed and made his way inside, causing you to press up against the door as he walked past you. In those three seconds, you could smell his natural scent of ash and caramel with a hint of smoky wood. It pleased you.

You automatically shut the door and followed him. He was sitting down on the couch with his hands behind his head, but with his legs bent, no manspreading. His attitude was drastically different from Shouto’s.

“Well,” you started, sitting across from him as you rubbed your sweaty palms on your thighs. “What did you want to talk about?”

“What happened between you guys.”

“Between who?”

“You and Icy-Hot. I saw you hit him and tried prying answers out of him. Better to get it from the other side than from someone whose head is up their fucking ass.”

“Oh,” you whispered and sunk your teeth on your lower lip, looking away. “That’s personal. Whatever happened between me and him, will stay between me and him. Besides, it wasn’t a big deal anyway.”

“Big deal?! You smack his face and say it’s not a big deal? Damn, what kind of shit answers are those?”

“Realistic answers!” you choked out, feeling your voice crack mid speaking. “They are realistic answers.”

“Real huh?” he whispered before leaning forward, clasping his hands in his lap. “Fine. Let’s be real, okay? You guys slept together huh? And he decided he didn’t want you anymore. Is that what happened? That’s the type of guy he is after all.”

Hearing his words made you realize how shitty you’ve been feeling. He was only in your presence for five minutes or less and he already cracked your mid-life crisis. The quiver in your lip was his answer.

“So that’s what happened then,” he whispered.

“And what if it did?! It doesn’t matter, like I said! I was his stepping stool! He didn’t care! I was his doormat and I let him walk over me because I was too gullible to notice before! He’s a fucking heartless asshole!” you cried out, hiccuping as you covered your face from him, shielding the somewhat dignity you had left. Your nose was getting stuffed up by the second as you sniffled, letting out another pained sob, the first of many that day. Each day would end like this, you going into a state of confusion and would cry yourself to sleep. It was a continuous cycle of pain that you wanted to end.

“Everyone thinks of him as this high and mighty person that cares for others, but he doesn’t!” You looked into the hero’s eyes, your own filled with nothing but defeat and pain, the whites of your eyes now turning red from the onslaught of crying. “I hate him! I fucking hate him!” each word had a powerful meaning behind it. “He ruined me! He had me wrapped around his finger and played me like a fiddle!”

Bakugou felt bad for you. You went from someone who told him off hours earlier, to sobbing up a storm and ranting about your feelings. He felt awkward sitting there as you poured out to your heart’s content. His body was tense as he fiddled with the pocket of his black hoodie. Seeing you there hopeless made his heart sting with pain, and he felt like he had to save you, even though he didn’t know you.

To be your hero. The hero you deserve, not Shouto Todoroki.

He contemplated something before standing up and walked over to you. The couch creaked at the new addition of weight that was put on top. “Look,” he started as his mind went blank. What was he going to say? Hey, it's okay, forget him. He's legit shit anyway. How do you comfort someone when their relationship was a total lie?

Your sobs filled his ears as he sighed softly, rubbing his temple in growing annoyance. “First of all stop crying already!”

The sudden change of tone surprised you as you stared at him with innocent wide eyes. “W-What?”

“I said stop fucking crying. It doesn’t look good on you.”

You let out a hiccup as you wiped your eyes with the pad of your fingers. For some reason, Katsuki thought you looked like the most beautiful person on the planet. Here you were, in raw emotion for some idiot who wasn’t worth your time, yet at the same time you decided to show Katsuki and no one else. It filled him with a sense of peace that you trusted him enough, despite barely knowing him.

The ceiling fan shined artificial light upon you, somehow making you look ethereal as your tears glistened. Your lips formed in a pout as your bottom lip kept quivering, no matter how many times you tried to control it. The tips of your ears were red, your cheeks joining in on the rosy color. Your makeup was nowhere perfect anymore. Mascara dribbled down your face as it mixed with your tears, black staining your cheeks.

“Are you done crying yet?”

There was a moment of silence before another whimper left your throat as you shook your head. “N-No!”

Yet again another round of painful sobs wracked through your body. Your head was starting to hurt at the attack to your body. Bakugou inhaled deeply as he wrapped an arm around your shoulder, bringing you closer to his chest. He could feel your shaking form as you threw your arms around him, burying your head into the crook of his neck.

“H-He-”

“Shut up,” he grumbled, his voice rough around the edges, but wasn’t his normal tone. His calloused hand pressed against your back, his fingers slowly running up and down as his thumbs rubbed small circles to calm you down. “He’s a shit person. I get it. But you aren’t going to sit here and cry about him forever, are you?”

The silence was a sign to continue on.

“He played you. He’s an asshole, but I didn’t know he was this big of a dick. Everyone plays him as Mr. Nice Guy or Mr. Hero. I didn’t know he was this bad,” he muttered, bringing a hand to cradle the back of your head, stroking the skin behind your neck in a soothing manner. “Honestly, fuck him. He doesn’t deserve your time and certainly doesn’t deserve your stupid fucking tears. He still thinks you’re going to go back to him. Why don’t you show him who the bigger person is, hah?”

“He thinks I’m going back to him?” you whispered, your words coming out muffled due to hiding your head from him.

“Yeah. He does. His head is so clouded with stupidity that he thinks he’ll always get what he wants.”

“...he is pretty stupid.”

The rumbling in his chest indicated he found it funny, but true. He pushed you away from his chest, placed his hands on your shoulders, and stared into your tear-filled eyes. “So. What are you going to then, Princess?”

You licked your lips and looked down at your lap, staring at the palms of your hands. “I’m going to... Stop crying over him, m-move on and be the bigger person?”

“Are you asking me? Or are you telling me?”

“I-I’m telling you!”

His lips curved upward slightly as he wrapped his arm around you, bringing you to his chest once more. “Guys like him expect everyone to spoon feed him because of his reputation. And everyone says I’m the worst out of the top five,” he grumbled to himself, running his hand up and down your back. “I’ll take care of you. I promise you that.”

☽✧ ✦ ✧☾

A man of his word, Bakugou did as he promised. Since that day he visited you the first time, you stayed in contact. You were wary of course, looking for any red flags that history could possibly repeat itself.

Unlike Shouto, Katsuki couldn’t come around as much. As he told you before, his hero work was the most important since where his agency was stationed, there was a lot of crime. You respected that, of course. It made you feel happy when he would talk to you on the phone about the amount of citizens he saved and how many villains he took down by himself. The kids, they went wild.

When one of the girls took notice of a gauntlet laying around the room, she screamed in happiness saying that Ground Zero was here, or that you bought a knock-off from online. Of course from the screaming, the pro hero ran inside at top speed, looking for any sign of danger.

“Where is it?!”

“It’s Ground Zero!!”

A flock of children surrounded him as they screamed incoherent words of happiness, jumping up and down as if he was their idol; which he was.

“How hot can your explosions get?!”

“Do you burn yourself?!”

“Can you fly?!”

“Do you sneeze and they go off?!”

“Hah?!” he yelled and crossed his arms over his torso, looking away. “What kind of fucking questions are those?!”

“Bakugou!” you snapped, walking into view with a bag of something inside. “We talked about using that language in here!”

“What does ‘fucking’ mean?” a little girl asked, tugging on the material of his pants, looking up at him with child innocent eyes.

His mouth parted but no answer came out. His cream-colored cheeks soon became a soft rosy red as he looked away quickly. “I-”

“I bought mochi!” you said quickly, lifting the bag up and shaking it slightly to grab their attention. At the mention of treats, they all scrambled away from him and stood in front of you with happy grins and eyes.

“Get in a line. Bakugou, come help me please.”

The ash-blond groaned but walked to you anyway, taking the small bowl from you that held the dough filled with sweet ice cream. He eyes them warily before crouching down to their level and stuck the bowl out for their awaiting grabbing hands.

“Only one,” he said to a little boy who laughed joyously and placed it back before running to his friend, comparing the flavors they had.

“And one for me,” you teased, taking one from him. Bakugou clicked his tongue in annoyance and placed the bowl back on the small table. “I don’t know how you can eat those. They seem too sweet. Spicy is where it’s at.”

“Well I’m not going to burn a bunch of six-year-olds’ tongues either, Bakugou!” you huffed and took a bite out of the dough, the taste of the sweet ice cream filled your tastebuds. “Come on try some!” you lifted the sweet to his mouth, urging him to bite it.

“Hah?! That’s bad for you!”

“Come on, Katsuki. Are you afraid of a little sweet? Never took you for the scared type.” You grinned. His heart fluttered at the sound of his name leaving your lips. He growled and snatched the green treat from you.

“‘M’not scared!” he yelled and eyed the delicious treat before taking a bite out of it. His eyes widened slightly from their original state and chewed slowly. He looked away from you and swallowed. “Not bad, still tastes like shit.”

A happy smile graced your features at his change of heart over something as small as this. “So will you eat the rest of it with me?”

“I guess. Only if you wipe that stupid dopey smile off your face.”

A cry of pain distracted you from your reverie as you turned quickly to find the source of pain.

A group of kids was surrounding one young girl who had a hand covering her eye.

“Himarie, sweetie what happened?” You asked the small girl, kneeling beside her as your hand hesitantly reached for hers that shielded her eye.

“Fire!”

“Fire? Honey let me see.”

“I’ll hurt you!”

“No you won’t. Come on, let me see.” you encouraged her softly, wrapping your hand around her smaller wrist and lowered it slowly.

Fire shot out from her eye as soon as her hand was lowered. She cried in pain and covered it again, whimpering softly.

The rug caught on fire as you shrieked, moving the kids out of the way. “K-Katsuki!”

“Got it,” the male voiced out, immediately putting out the fire with the fire extinguisher, his tongue peeking out in concentration. He let out a huff and lowered the hose. “Looks like someone got their quirk. That’s a nice one if I do say so myself.” He put the red canister down and walked over to where you and Himarie stood.

“Is she going to be okay Miss Y/N?!”

“Yes, she’s going to be okay. She’s a strong girl, aren’t you honey?” you whispered softly and stroked her brown hair.

“Let me see,” Bakugou whispered, nudging you away from her gently. “Look at me.”

She shook her head, afraid of hurting him as well. “I’ll burn you!”

“I burn myself on a daily basis, Himarie. I’m used to it. Now let me see.”

The brunette shakily lowered her head, her bottom lip quivering in fear.

Bakugou analyzed her before bringing a hand to her face, rubbing her cheek softly with his thumb. “You’re scared huh? I remember when I first got my quirk. I was scared. I thought I would blow myself up at one point. But there’s nothing to be afraid of. You’ll learn how to control it soon,” he said to her, his voice soft yet rough at the same time. Each word seemed to roll off his tongue with ease, as if he was made for moments like this. His larger hand patted her head gently.

Himarie continued to stare at him with uncertainty before launching herself onto him, her small arms encircling his neck. “T-Thank you Ground Zero!”

He tensed up before hesitantly wrapping an arm around her, patting her back with a gentle touch. “Of course. That’s what we’re here for anyway, to make sure kids like you are out of harm’s way. Just don’t do anything stupid with that, got it?”

You watched a few steps away, your heart softening at the moment in front of you. In all of his fame, his unruly behavior was something that everyone saw. This moment was intoxicating to you. You wanted to see more of him like this. If only the public knew this was how Bakugou Katsuki was, everyone would be throwing themselves at him. The only difference between him and Shouto, was that Bakugou cares. He did it to save those in need, to be a protector, not for the fame and the money.

His vermillion orbs met yours as the corner of his lips curled into a smirk, sending a small wink your way. A wave of heat flooded your cheeks as you gave him a small wave in return. The light’s reflection illuminated his eyes, the different colors of his irises shining. It was amazing to see him here. You only wished for one thing: that he was here before Shouto Todoroki.

☽✧ ✦ ✧☾

As time went by, the hot atmosphere turned chilly, and the trees turned to orange and red. Fall approached faster than anything. Months upon months passed by without a second thought.

The cold air of the autumn wind descends upon you, each needle of the breeze poking through any open outlet through your clothes. You buried your nose in your burgundy scarf, begging for any type of warmth to relieve your shaking body. The vibrant assortments of oranges and red were pleasing to the eye, but getting harder to appreciate as each second passed by.

Your hands were stuffed in the pocket of your jackets as you kept your head down to shield your eyes from any upcoming harsh wind. The annual fall festival arrived and that was something you wanted to see, with a special someone of course.

“Are you that fucking cold?”

You peered up through your lashes, glancing at the blond who walked beside you with ease. He seemed to be content with just his jacket and scarf. His hands were stuffed in his pockets, his fingers curling and uncurling from the inside.

“Y-y-yes I’m cold!” you spoke through your chattering teeth, bringing your hands up and placing them underneath your armpits, relishing in the warmth from your jacket. Your eyes trained over the different stands full of crafts, food, and beverages.

“That’s too bad.” you could hear the smugness in his tone as you continued to walk the brick pathway through the festival. “Your teeth look like they could fall out any minute now due to your stupid chattering.”

“Well not everyone is a walking heater, Katsuki,” you chirped, your voice muffled by the fabric of your scarf warming your neck. “If I was, I’d be looking like you.”

“Like me?! What’s that supposed to mean, hah?!”

“Meaning I could wear a jacket and a skirt and not worry about the cold! I said what I said!”

Bakugou growled and tugged you closer by your elbow, no ill intent in his hold. His hand reached under your elbow, his fingers digging into your skin. It was a simple yet meaningful gesture.

A small smile graces your features as your eyes watch the leaves fall from their respected trees, trails of orange and red filling your vision. The sky was a pink layout with splotches of blue and orange that complimented each other. The clouds floating through the sky effortlessly, the sun saying its slow goodbye before sleeping for the night until the next morning.

“I wish they had more festivals like this.”

“Well if they did, stupid villains would be surrounding this shit place anyway.”

You rolled your eyes in annoyance, leaning your head on his bicep as your fingers curled around his arm. “Uh-huh, sure. Way to be optimistic about it.”

“Just being realistic. Something you should be.”

“Hey!” you pouted, feigning hurt. “I can be realistic!”

Bakugou gave you a side glance before shaking his head. “Don’t fool both of us dumbass.”

You whined and stood on your tiptoes, placing a quick kiss to his cold cheek. “The only one I can fool is you after all.”

A pleased hum left his throat as he laced your fingers together, the warmth radiating from his palm automatically making you fuzzy inside.

Ever since Shouto left, you felt confused, lost and most importantly, empty. The void in your heart felt that it would never be filled again. Shouto left and took your happiness with him, deciding to leave you a wreck for this own personal pleasure. He was everywhere you looked, paper news, broadcasting, twitter. It was like you couldn’t escape him. Each time you saw a photo of him, he always had the same expression. A smug smirk would grace his features, it was taunting you and you knew it.

When Bakugou entered your life, it made you realize that you didn’t have to worry about someone like Shouto ruining you again. Bakugou slowly filled the void in your heart, and you were beyond thankful. At first, you didn’t trust him at all. He was in fact in the top five heroes, and was known as the mean one in the public eye. You couldn’t tell if his actions were genuine or just for show to lure you in like a predator.

“Hey.”

“Huh?” You shook your head, kicking you out of your daze as you looked up at the male.

“Y-yeah?”

“Why do you look like that?” he asked, but more in a demanding tone.

“This is my face?”

“No, you idiot. You look lost. What’s wrong?”

“Just thinking about before is all, ya know, Shouto,” you muttered the last part, your head lowering in shame.

“Well stop thinking of that icy-hot bastard. I hate the way you get over some stupid guy like him,” he growled, his finger curling under your chin to make you look up at him. “Cause Princess, he’s an idiot for letting someone as beautiful as you go.”

He leaned closer, pressing his lips against yours tenderly. Your hand reached up and cradled his cheek, rubbing the swell with your thumb gently. His arm wrapped around your waist tightens, bringing you closer to his chest. In your moment of love, unbeknownst to you, the sound of a camera went off.

☽✧ ✦ ✧☾

He couldn’t believe what he was seeing. His grey and cerulean orbs filled with anger, staring down at the photo that was displayed on his phone, a new headline for the news.

Ground Zero getting comfy at the Autumn Festival!

Shouto’s fingers curled around his phone, his hand unintentionally getting colder by the minute. He was seething in anger. His shoulders moved with his erratic breathing as he threw his phone across his desk, ignoring the noise of his device hitting the ground.

A small flame emitted from his hand. He abruptly stood up, gripping the edge of his desk with a vice-like grip, his fingers slowly turning white from the pressure. His fingernails dug into the hardwood, ignoring the pain shooting through his arms. He sunk his teeth into his lower lip as his hands let go of the edges before reaching under and threw his arms up, flipping the wooden desk over in anger.

The furniture broke on impact as he groaned out in annoyance. Not only were things not going his way, but he also needed to buy a new desk.

“Just who in the hell does he think he is?” he whispered angrily, running his hand through his hair as he paced back and forth in his office, his footsteps hard against the rug. “Just walking in her life and thinking he can do that? He’s far from right.”

Shouto was no idiot. He was intelligent and knew what happened on the sidelines. Bakugou stayed with you to help out with the daycare. He did the same exact thing as Shouto did, and oh did it piss him off more than anything. In Shouto’s eyes, you were going to come back to him. You might just be acting up, but you’ll return to him.

He quickly glanced at the clock on the wall. It read 4:46 PM. From what he remembered, the daycare should be closing at 5 PM. If he left now, he could probably stop you before you headed home.

The chiming of his phone knocked him from his cloud of thoughts as he walked over to the shattered screen, the light illuminating on his face.

Midoriya

“Fuck,” he groaned and reached above his head, his joints cracking with the movement. His finger tapped the green circle as he brought his phone to his ear, sighing softly. “Hello?”

“Hi Todoroki! I just wanted to make sure you knew about tomorrow still!”

“...what’s tomorrow?”

“You forgot already? Figures if you’re so busy! It’s the meet and greet we have with Kacchan tomorrow!”

He choked on his spit as he coughed into his hand in shock. “T-that’s tomorrow?!”

“Yeah! Your PR team didn’t tell you?”

“Uh...” he trailed off, glancing at the mess of his room. Pens and papers were scattered all over the place. “I’m sure they did. Whatever, what time was it at?”

“11 AM!”

“Do I have to go?”

“Of course you have to Todoroki-kun! You’re number one! And number one has to be there, remember?!”

Number one.

Hearing those words made butterflies flutter in his stomach as his head filled with conceited thoughts. He smirked faintly as he hung his head back, staring at the ceiling. “Yeah. You’re right. I am number one, and I always get what I want.”

“What was that? You cut out at the end.”

“Huh? Nothing, don’t worry about it. I’ll see you in the morning with...him.”

“Oh speaking about Kacchan, did you see the photos? Turns out he was with that girl you were seeing before you broke up!”

He growled into the microphone, his noise being caught by Midoriya’s ears. “I saw. They look terrible together.”

“You think so? I think they look cute together! I’m glad he found someone.”

“Yeah well I’m not,” he snapped and began to pace around the room. “I know she’s playing hard to get. She came to visit me again even after saying to fuck off. That obviously means something. I mean, why wouldn’t she want me? I’m rich, successful and the highest out of everyone. Why would she settle for him?” he spat, his voice dripping with malice and hatred for the blond.

“Uh, Todoroki? Do you hear how you’re sounding right now?”

“Course I do.”

“Then don’t you think you’re being a bit too...over the top?”

“I’m not. I sound perfectly fine. Now if you’ll excuse me, I have business to take care of.”

“Ahh okay! See you tomorrow Todoroki-kun!”

Without saying goodbye, Shouto hit the red circle and turned his phone off, shoving it into his front pocket. “I guess some things I have to keep working for,” he whispered and walked past the mess he made prior to the phone call, to the door. His hand wrapped around the knob and twisted it, pulling it to open the door.

“I’m Shouto. I’ll win her back. She’ll realize I’m the one for her, and he’s complete utter shit. I’ll get her back. I’m the best after all.”

An amusing chuckled rumbled through his chest as he made his way down the corridor, on his way to take back what was his first.

☽✧ ✦ ✧☾

Shouto Todoroki would have never thought about this situation in a million years. Yet again, here he was. Arriving at the daycare with a frown upon his face, he exited the vehicle with a gentle push of the driver’s door, the car not moving from the gentle force. He took one glance at the daycare and sighed softly. “It’ll be easy,” he whispered to himself, letting one foot lead in front of the other. As he walked to the entrance, he took notice of the new and improved details. The once peeling paint was newly refurbished, each drawing looking amazing as ever. The hedges surrounded the center like a barrier, protecting them from him. The flowers he ordered were no longer there, which he assumed they died over time or you tossed them out, Instead, they were replaced with lilies and roses, each color displaying just for him. The color orange only reminded him of Katsuki Bakugou, a newfound hatred for him. Each flower moved with the wind as they greeted him.

He walked to the front door with his hands shoved deep into his pockets. Upon reaching it, he slowly lifted a hand that seemed to weigh more than anything in the world. He let out a shaky sigh and let his knuckles hit the door twice. Shouto brought his hand to his mouth and wiped it, his lips dry from nervousness.

He felt as if years passed by as he stood there, waiting for you or someone to answer. He hoped it was only you, but by the looks of it, another car was parked beside yours, and it definitely wasn’t one of the employees.

The sweet melody of laughter filled his ears as he stared at the knob moving to open the door. The hinges squeaked and it was pulled open, Shouto keeping his eyes trained forward.

You opened the door with a laugh, Bakugou bringing up an old memory from his high school years.

Your smile faltered as it was automatically wiped with your face, a scowl replacing it instead. “What do you want?”

“I want to talk to you.”

“I don’t,” you snapped and went to close the door in his face but he stuck his foot out last second, the only thing keeping you from shutting him out forever.

“Please. I just want to talk.”

You said nothing in return, slowly opening the door again. You stood in front of the frame, your arms crossed over your torso. “Outside.”

“Princess? Who is at the door?”

Shouto’s ears perked at the sound of Bakugou’s voice as he tried looking over your shoulder before you moved in front of his line of sight. “No one Katsuki! Give me five!” you yelled back, pressing a hand against Shouto’s chest and you pushed him slightly, shutting the door behind you.

“Princess? He’s here too? So you’re fucking him now?”

“And what if I am? What’s it matter to you, Todoroki? Why do you care now? We aren’t together. You made that quite clear a year ago.”

“I know but, him? Out of all people you went for him?”

“Yeah, I did. Is that a problem for you? Oh wait, I guess it is if we are even having this conversation. Plus I thought you wanted to talk. Not pick on the things you think are wrong with my life.”

Shouto’s hands twitched by his side, itching to feel your body against his once more. “I-“

“Or is the problem is that you can’t even hold a real conversation without making it about you, huh?”

“That’s not true.”

“Oh, it’s not?” You tilted your head to the side. “Prove it then, right now. What the hell is so important that you have to bug me?” you demanded. You hated how he could just waltz up in here and act like nothing happened. One of the many things you hated about him.

“I’m sorry.”

You choked on air as you stared at him, shocked. “You— you’re what?”

“I said I’m sorry.”

“Y-You’re sorry?”

He nodded quietly, a look of sadness in his eyes. You didn’t believe him one bit. You couldn’t. If he was actually sorry, why did he wait so long? Did he expect you to make the first move?

“If you are, why did you wait so long?” you whispered softly, the ground becoming your main interest as you kicked at it gently with the tip of your shoe. “Why a year? Why not when I saw you again?”

“...I don’t know. I thought you would have come back to me after what I said. I didn’t think it would get this out of hand. I’m sorry, I didn’t mean anything I said back then.”

“I don’t believe you Shouto. I’m sorry but I can’t. You caused me so much fucking pain that I—“ you cut yourself off, letting out a shaky breath. “— I couldn’t even trust him. It took me so long to finally trust Katsuki because of you. You ripped my heart and took it with you until you didn’t need me anymore for your selfish desires. You don’t care for me Shouto, you never have.”

“Y/N,” he whispered and took a step forward, halting when he saw you take a step away from him. “Please. I still love you.”

“No you don’t!” you yelled suddenly, clenching your fists as you looked into his eyes. Your vision became glossy with tears, the glistening substance trailing down your face. “You don’t! Stop lying to me! When will you stop lying to people Shouto?! Don’t you see?! We have feelings! We get hurt!” you cried out, pointing a finger in his way. “We aren’t for your personal pleasures!! You used me! You threw me out! And now that I’m finally happy, you want me back?!”

Your bottom lip quivered in pain as you let out a choked sob, bringing a hand to shield it from him. “You aren’t the only human on this planet! Stop pretending that you are! You can’t even see the real message in front of you, can you?!”

Shouto stood there in shock. His mind was moving a thousand miles per hour but nothing left his lips. His body refused to move any closer to your, afraid of a future he didn’t want. He loves you. After all this time, he’s in love with you. He misses your small kisses, your beautiful laugh, your smile that was only for him. He misses seeing you beside him in the awakening morning, your messy hair or tired displays of love. Yet in his own foolishness, he lost you.

“I always thought I might be bad, now I’m sure that it’s true,” he started off with a whisper, letting his body move on its own. “Cause I think you’re so good, and I’m nothing like you, Y/N.”

“Stop coming towards me.”

He didn’t listen, only advancing forward to you. You sunk your teeth into your lower lip as you placed a hand behind you, feeling the door that was behind you. He bent one leg slightly, looming over you. You lifted a hand up, bringing it down to slap him but he caught it last second, holding both of your wrists in his hand.

“Look at you go, I just adore you,” he whispered softly, his voice sending chills through your body. His own orbs glossed with tears, sniffling as he rested his forehead against yours. His eyes squeezed shut as his tears cascaded down his face, the substance hitting against your hands.

“I wish that I knew what makes you think I’m so special,” you whispered meekly, your voice cracking with each word that left your mouth. The wavering in your vocal cords made you upset with yourself. His fingers tighten around your smaller hands, bringing them to his chest. You could feel the steady beat of his heart.

“I learned how to love like you… and in my own stupidity, I ruined it. Please, all I ask is for one more chance. I’m better than him, ” he opened his eyes, his heterochromia ones staring into your own. His tears flowed effortlessly.

Here was the man that once said he didn’t need anyone at the top. That he was the one looking over everyone with no one by his side, that no one was worthy of him. The one who couldn’t believe in trust. The one who was the best at everything. The one who got what he always wanted. Here was the man that you fell head over heels for, but got your heart crushed in the process. Leaving you for the dust, you were left. Until someone else came in, slowly picking up the pieces of your broken heart and piecing them back together until you were ready to hand your heart off to him.

You squirmed in Shouto’s grip until your hands broke free from his grip. “Get off!!” you yelled, pushing him off of you with full force, watching him stumble back and fall on his ass, landing on the soft grass.

“What part don’t you get anymore?! I said I never wanted to see you again and you want to talk and pull that crap?!”

“That’s not—“

“That’s not what?!” you yelled, your tears of sadness turning into fresh hot tears of anger. “You think you can come walking in here and say ‘Hey I’m super sorry I didn’t mean it! Can we get back together again?!’ Did you honestly think that would work, Shouto?! I don’t love you anymore!! I don’t want you anymore!!”

“Hey, what’s going on?!”

You swiveled around quickly, a sense of relief filing your body at the entrance of an ash blond. Bakugou walked up to you and noticed Shouto on the floor, his fingers digging into the earth. “What the hell is happening?”

“Katsuki,” you whispered and threw yourself at him, burying your head into his chest as your arms encircled his torso. His arms immediately wrapped around your body, bringing you closer into his protection.

“Why are you here, Icy-Hot?!”

Shouto got up quickly, wiping the dirt from his backside. “I came to talk to Y/N.”

“I don’t want to talk to you anymore!” you yelled, turning around slightly to face him. Your fingers dug into Bakugou’s side, not hard enough to cause any pain. “I want you gone!!”

“I’m not done talking with you yet!”

“She said she doesn’t want you here. Now leave!! I know you’re a fucking asshole but I didn’t know you can’t listen!!” Bakugou yelled, his face slowly turning into a rosy red as his anger levels rose. His grip on your body tightens, his knuckles turning white.

You cracked Bakugou’s jaw in your face, forcing him to look down at you. Yet, he couldn’t look at you, keeping his eyes trained on the hero in front of him. “Katsuki,” you whispered, gently patting his cheek. “Please look at me.”

The ash-blond reluctantly looked down at you, his nostrils flaring in anger. “I love you,” you said softly, your hand reaching up and brushing some hair out of his face.

His face softens at your words, feeling his anger slowly fade away. “I love you too.”

You nodded and pulled away from him, inhaling deeply as you walked up to Shouto, your head held high. He stared down at you with nothing but eyes full of defeat and sorrow. A small smile of sadness curved at your lips as you cupped his cheek. He closed his eyes as he leaned into your touch, begging for more of it.

“Shouto,” you whispered softly, keeping the gap between both of you evident for Katsuki’s observing eyes. “I don’t want to be with you anymore. I’m happy. Can’t you see?” you asked, pulling away from him. “I love Katsuki with all my heart. I want to be with him. What you and I had, that’s long gone. You decided that you didn’t need that, you didn’t bother to care for someone other than yourself. You chose this route, I didn’t. I loved and cared for you. I truly did.”

You took a step back and looked into his awaiting eyes, his heart waiting for the words he longed for, but knew he wasn’t getting them anytime soon. “You chose fame and money over me, I can’t get upset by your decision. All I ask, is that you leave the both of us alone. Please.”

“Y/N, please. I’m sorry for what I did. Please just-”

You shook your head and lifted your hand in the air, cutting him off. “I’m tired of hearing you now. Please, leave already. You’re making it worse by being here. So do us a favor before he comes in and does something he won’t forget.”

Shouto’s heart of stone fell to the base of his body, cracking upon contact and shattering into millions of pieces. This time it was unfixable. The last time he felt this hurt was when he was a mere child, seeing the abuse his mother was put through by his father. He felt lost and alone like no one was by his side. Here was the woman he loved. He thought he had a future with you. But let’s be realistic, after the show he put on a year ago, that dream was long gone. He chose this path, with many regrets. What was he even thinking? He let his pride win over his own humanity. And now he has to pay the price for it.

Without another word to you or Bakugou, he swiveled on his heel and rushed to his car, his hand fishing in his pocket for his keys. He opened the door as quick as he could and got inside, jabbing the keys to start it up. It wasn’t worth it if he couldn’t get back with you.

You stood under the tree, the sun making its way to take its rest for the day. The gentle rays of orange seep through the leaves, hitting your supple skin that gave you a glow. A small smile of satisfaction graced your features as you closed your eyes, allowing yourself to bathe in the tranquility of this moment.

You wrapped your arms around your body as you hummed softly, your eyes stinging and tired from your previous crying.

Arms from behind wrapped around you, bringing you to rest against his chest. Bakugou leaned over slightly, burying his head in the crook of your neck. “What are you thinking about, pretty girl?”

“Mmm, you as always.”

“That’s funny,” he mumbled, nipping the tender skin of your neck before placing a kiss in its place. “What were you really thinking about?”

“You!” You laughed softly, resting your head on top of his. “Am I not allowed to think about my amazing boyfriend?”

A pinch to your side made you squeak in surprise as you tried pulling away from him, but his strong arms kept you in place. “I didn’t say that dumbass,” his gruff voice whispered in your ear as he suddenly lifted you up, holding you in a bridal style carry. Your arms immediately wrapped around his neck.

“What’s with the over the top affection now?” you teased, kissing his cheek gently, lingering your lips on the warm skin.

“Damn you always have to question everything I do, don’t you?” he huffed in annoyance as he walked back inside, kicking the door of the daycare center shut. “Can’t just take my answer as it is.”

“Oh but you know I love messing with you, Suki!”

He grumbled at the pet name you’ve given him over the course of your relationship. No matter how many times he said he hated it, deep down he loved hearing it come from you and only you. If anyone found out about it, he wouldn’t be afraid to blast them to hell.

“Katsuki?”

“What?”

“What do you think about that whole ordeal?”

“Well it was fucking stupid,” he started off, placing you down on the couch beside him as he threw an arm around your shoulder, bringing you to rest your head on his shoulder. “He had no business coming back again, even after you told him you wanted nothing to do with him. He should have known better than to mess with you. Fucking bastard doesn’t know when to stop,” he growled, his hand rubbing up and down your arm.

“Well I don’t think he’ll be bothering me anytime soon,” you looked up at him, smiling. “Especially now. After all, I got a little guard dog.”

“Guard dog?! Is that what you think of me as?!”

“Maybe,” you trailed the last syllable out, grinning before going serious. “But overall… I’m glad I met you. As you know, I was in a dark place before we started dating and, I just want to truly thank you for coming into my life, Katsuki.”

His vermillion eyes trained on your expressions before kissing your forehead. “Dumbass, you don’t have to thank me. After all, that idiot needs a good punch to the face. And I might be the one to do it.”

You rolled your eyes and nestled your head into his chest, breathing in his caramel scent. Before meeting Bakugou Katsuki, you thought you could never trust or find someone that truly loved you and was not using you for their personal gain. You were a broken piece of art and he was the sculptor. Over time he mended the pieces of your shattered heart and formed it into something better than before. Bakugou Katsuki was not only your lover, he was your best friend, your shoulder to cry on.

But most importantly, he was your hero.

#bnhabookclub #shouto todoroki #shouto todoroki x reader #katsuki bakugou #katsuki bakugou x reader #bakugou x reader #todoroki x reader #mha x reader #bnha x reader #x reader #fic #my fic #bingo event

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towerfandoms · 4 years

Text

3AM Encounters

A/n: I feel like everyone uses that title but oh well I’m uncreative when it comes to titles. I’ve been simping a LOT for Shinsou recently so here enjoy this <33 and ik requests are off but for Shinsou I make exceptions ✨✨✨

Summary: Shinsou had trouble falling asleep and was laying in bed, counting as the hours passed by. That is, until he heard footsteps outside

Pairings: Shinsou Hitoshi x reader

Word Count: 2.4k

Warnings: none just fluff

Despite the many times Shinsou had laid awake at 3am, he still could never quite get used to the eerie silence. It was times like this when he truly understood the phrase “deafening silence”. The quietness felt too loud. The nothingness made him feel uneasy. During the day, he despised hearing the loud screeches of jumpy teenagers but now, he almost misses it. He could hear just about every little thing, the slight gust of wind from outside his open window, the creaking of his bed every time he shifted to get comfier and the footsteps outside.

Wait,,, outside?

Shinsou grabbed his phone from his bedside table and squinted at the screen, the harsh light illuminating his room. It was 3:15AM. Trying to make as little noise as possible as to not draw attention to himself, he heaved out of bed and looked out the window that was overlooking the gardens. He was surprised to be met with the sight of a black silhouette scurrying across the gardens, making their way towards the equipment shed. They were dressed in what seemed to be a black hoodie and pyjama bottoms. He couldn’t make out their face, their hood masking all their features. Leaning out a bit to get a better view, he noticed they were holding something close to their chest. He wasn‘t sure but to him it seemed like a box.

Now this peeked the teenage boy's interest. He wondered what was inside the box to make them run so early in the morning. They were most likely a student in his year as these gardens were predominantly used by second years, since they were right by their dormitories. Should he go after them and make sure they weren’t getting into trouble? Thinking, he had nothing better to do and the chances of actually being able to fall asleep were slim so he decided to investigate. He wasn’t sure what he was going to say or do when he met the person but he just hoped they weren’t up to no good.

He pulled on the first sweatshirt he found and carefully made his way down to the backyard. He stopped when he thought he heard footsteps and thought of just going back to his dorm and letting the person do whatever they wanted. He wasn’t the class president or anything so he wasn’t obligated to check on every little out of the norm. Perhaps it was the lack of sleep influencing his decisions but for some odd reason he desperately wanted to know what the person was up to. When he first joined the Hero Course in second year he announced to everyone that he wasn’t looking to make friends. However that soon changed as he got to know everyone. He still wasn’t the most sociable person but hey who knows, maybe he’ll find a kindred spirit when it comes to the inability to sleep. So he let curiosity get the better of him and pursued onwards towards the equipment shed.

Once he was outside the shed, Shinsou leaned his head against the rotting wood trying to listen in. He was surprised to hear low whisperings but he couldn’t make out anything bar a few hushed be quiet’s. He stiffly stood outside for some time, unsure whether to knock or barge in. He decided knocking would probably be silly so he opted with the latter. In one swift motion, he swung the handle and stepped inside.

The scene before him was baffling, to say the least. Whatever Shinsou was expecting, it definitely wasn’t this. The black figure from before was kneeling down, their back to him, petting a large grey cat while a kitten was on their lap. There were three more kittens around them, all purring and rubbing their heads against them, whining for their attention. When they heard the door creak open, they rapidly swung their head around, eyes wide at the thought of being discovered. So they were quite surprised when their deep e/c eyes met with Shinsous' own lilac hues.

They both stayed staring like that, neither pulling away and refusing to break eye contact. After what seemed like hours but couldn’t possibly be more than a few seconds, Shinsou finally pulled away, looking to the side while sheepishly bringing a hand to rub the back of his neck.

“Sh-Shinsou!” was the only thing you managed to say, confusion clouding your brain. Just what was he doing here this early in the morning? Then an even more alarming thought popped into your head. Was he going to report you???

Sensing your disarray, Shinsou quickly tried to explain himself, snapping you out of your thoughts.

“Oh, um, you don’t have to worry about me snitching or anything haha,” he nervously fumbled out, “I-I just saw you running and was wondering what you were doing is all…” he trailed off, unable to look at you in the eyes.

Of all people he had to meet in the middle of the night, why did it have to be you. You were also in 2-A, in fact you sat behind him in most of his classes. You two had a few brief encounters but it was enough for Shinsou to feel butterflies whenever he crossed paths with you. You were really sweet to everyone, always smiling and happy to lend a hand to anyone in need. Well you were the class president, he supposed, it was your job after all. Still though, the level of kindness you showed them all was something that not even Bakugou wanted to push away. As if your looks and kindness weren’t enough, you also had a killer sense of humour. You were always sending the funniest memes, tweets and tik toks to their class gc and responded to his sarcastic comments with ones of your own. You were without a single doubt one of the most perfect people Shinsou had ever laid his eyes upon. And now here he was seeing you surrounded by cats??? Hell, in his eyes you were quite literally an angel.

“Oh! Whoops, I suppose I should’ve been sneakier,” relief evident in your voice as you chuckled softly. Thank God it was just him and not someone like Iida a stickler for rules.

However, the fact that he was here now meant that...

”Wait a second! Did I wake you up??? Oh my God no, I am so so so sorry. Ugh, I feel so horrible now,” your tone changing abruptly as you ushered out an apology.

“What? No, no, it’s fine. I was always awake,” he quickly replied back looking down to meet your shining eyes again. There was only one window and the moonlight trickled through, enhancing your eyes and accentuating all your lovely features. You really looked as though you were hand-carved by the Greek Gods themselves.

You met his eyes again, sharing a look of sympathy as you understood his pain.

“Oh, you couldn’t sleep either? That’s why I came down here. I found the mama cat and her kittens three weeks ago. No one seemed to be feeding them or even know of their existence so I was kinda like damn, alright I’ll take care of yous,” you rambled on, almost forgetting about the kittens beside you, desperately mewling for attention.

You stopped to take a deep breath and started playing with the kittens next to you, looking up at Shinsou awaiting his reply.

Shinsou on the other hand was so absorbed watching you play that he didn’t even realise you were finished talking until you gave a small laugh.

“Do you wanna come over here and play with them?” you asked a small smile splayed on your lips.

He could not say yes fast enough. He walked over to where you sat and carefully kneeled down so as to not scare away the kittens. He gently started petting mama cat who instantly became smitten with him. Shinsou slowly began to smile, the pure adoration for these kittens displayed on his face.

You allowed yourself to stare at Shinsou while he wasn’t paying attention. Shinsou was a beautiful man, even Kaminari noting his good looks. You two never had much interactions bar a few good mornings and complaining about training. The usual small talk. He was always polite and when in a good mood would throw a few sarcastic comments here and there. Though he was never rude, it always felt like there was a barrier between him and the rest of the class that no one could quite break down. However now, early in the morning you somehow felt closer to him. It was like he was slowly letting his guard down. Even though neither of you were talking, you enjoyed his company, the silence almost comforting.

Despite how much you enjoyed just being next to him and petting cats, you also wanted to talk to him. It was hard talking to him in class, what with the walls he surrounded himself with. You decided now would be the best time to get to know him if you ever wanted to make a lasting friendship with him.

You wracked your brain for a conversation starter, not wanting to be too dry to bore him away nor wanting to be too chaotic to scare him away. God, just why were you so nervous anyways? It's just Shinsou after all. Why did talking to hot boys always have to be so hard ugh?

You looked over at him again, admiring his toned body that could almost be seen through the sweatshirt. You let your eyes trailed down until you noticed his pyjama bottoms. They were baby pink with Hello Kitty printed all over it.

You had to suppress a scream of joy. They were without a single doubt the most beautiful pyjamas you had ever laid your eyes upon.

“I like your pj bottoms,” you said teasingly, though that wasn’t your intention.

“O-oh, thank you,” he muttered, surprising himself by getting out a coherent sentence. Inwardly though, he was cursing himself for not throwing on a pair of sweatpants. You probably genuinely meant it but it was still something Shinsou didn’t want to go around flaunting. Fortunately for him, it was too dark for you to see the tinge of red on the tip of his ears and cheeks.

When he looked back up at you, he was expecting a face of mockery but was pleasantly surprised to see you smiling, your eyes shining brightly under the dim moonlight. The peace he was feeling before returned and he started to feel more confident in your comfortable presence.

“Y’know,” he started, his deep velvety voice becoming more confident. “Aren’t you the class president? What would Iida say if he found out?” he asked, completely breaking the ice between yous.

“You wouldn’t dare,” you said in a low voice, feigning a look of mock fear.

“I don’t know, it just wouldn’t be honest. My guilty conscience would never be able to handle it,” he replied, a teasing smile dancing on his lips.

You couldn’t stop smiling at the thought that he was willing to continue the conversation. You wanted to see how much longer you could make it last.

“Hmmmm, well how about I make it even. If you want, you can join me to feed the cats. They need to be fed in the day too, so it’s not like we’re always breaking the rules.” looking down as soon as you finished, afraid of the answer. You didn’t want to seem like you were being too pushy but at the same time you really enjoyed Shinsous company. The morning was slowly coming to an end and soon you both will have to go back to your dorms. You’ll both have to continue classes the next day and pretend this night never happened. You wanted it to continue. So you waited with baited breath for Shinsous reply.

Coincidentally enough, Shinsou had also been thinking the same thing. He had thoroughly enjoyed his time. Though you both hadn’t spoken much, your presence really put him at ease. He felt so much more relaxed around you. It would be a shame if this was the first and last night of spending time with you and the kittens. So when you asked, he knew his answer straight away. He just had to somehow play it off cool and act unbothered.

“Deal. I guess I have enough time to visit the kittens. And you too, I suppose,” he added with his signature smirk.

You felt your cheeks heat up but managed to return a mischievous grin of your own. You quickly pulled out your phone and sighed with disappointment when you checked the time.

“Unfortunately, I think our time here has ended. It’s nearly 4am, the sun will be coming up soon. And we have annoying classes tomorrow,” you stated a bit sad about the fact that such an enjoyable night has come to an end. However he did say he’d continue joining you so that kept you somewhat excited.

Shinsou looked at you, mouth slightly parted in shock.

“4AM already? Shit, sorry for keeping you up for so long,” with that he tried to remove mama cat from his lap who had fully made herself at home on it. She lazily stretched and got off, a bit annoyed that her nap time was ruined.

You and Shinsou both stood up and brushed yourselves down, dusting off any dirt that may have stuck on to you from the old floors.

“I can walk you back to your dorm,” Shinsou offered, his hand rubbing the back of his next.

“How chivalrous,” you giggled slightly. “Don’t worry about it, besides we wouldn’t want anyone to catch you in those stunning bottoms now would we,”

“Shut up,” he rolled his eyes irritably but there was a pleased smile on his lips, indicating he wasn’t really annoyed.

You both made your way back to the dorms, whispering softly to each other occasionally. You broke apart to go to your separate dorms and try to get at least a couple of hours of sleep.

You lay awake in your bed, replaying the encounter and a bit upset at how quickly it had ended. You remembered his eyes, his smell and his deep velvety voice. You couldn’t stop smiling stupidly when you remembered your conversations. Somehow thinking about his voice managed to help you drift off to sleep, your last clear thought being Shinsou playing with the kittens.

A/n: I tried really hard to keep it gender, race and features in general neutral. If there’s any place where I could improve or switch up my words please let me know and I’ll be happy to oblige :)) constructive criticism/ feedback is always appreciated in fact encouraged so do not hesitate to tell me anything. Anyways thank you so much and have a lovely day yall <33

#shinsou hitoshi #shinsou x reader #bnha shinso hitoshi #bnha x reader #shinsou x you #shinsou imagine #boku no hero #boku no hero imagines #shinsou hitoshi x reader #bnha x you #hitsohi x reader #mha x y/n #mha x reader #my hero academia #shinsou x y/n

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tchallasbabymama · 3 years

Text

Potential Breakup Fic

Yes, this is inspired by the re-release of the classic “Potential Breakup Song” by legends Aly & AJ. Check out the rest of my Masterlist HERE. Enjoy!

Word count: 2223

CW: Niggas aint shit. Kiana sat on her couch and tried not to cry into her glass of merlot. She took off her heels and got up to unzip her dress and take off her bra since she knew she wouldn’t be going anywhere tonight. She checked her phone again and was met with an empty screen. No notifications, no missed calls. She threw her phone down in anger, and was thankful when she noticed the screen didn’t crack.

“I can't believe this nigga.”

She looked at the clock and shook her head. It was 12:07am, and her 25th birthday was officially over without so much as a word from her boyfriend. Just last night he had told her to be ready by 7, and she hadn't heard from him since.

They had been together, on and off, for three years. They met their junior year at Howard, but didn’t hit it off right away. He was too slick for her liking, but over time he eventually weaseled his way into her heart. His smile lit up the whole room and his big brown eyes could seduce anyone just like that. And he did, constantly. T’Challa was a huge flirt, and it was cute when they were still single and just getting to know each other, but even now T’Challa turns his charm on for every pretty face he sees. Kiana had brought it up to him many times, letting him know how disrespected she felt. He would always say the same thing.

“But entle, I’m just being nice. You know I only have eyes for you.”

She did know that once, but that ended about a year and a half ago when she was casually scrolling through twitter on his phone and caught him cheating.

“T’Challa!”

“Yes, my love?”

“What the fuck is this?!”

“Why are you on my phone?!”

“Don't fucking raise your voice at me, I’m not in the wrong here. I saw a funny tweet and started scrolling when YOU got a text from some bitch named Jasmine talking bout ‘I miss you daddy’ and sending you pictures of her pussy. Care to explain?”

He reached for the phone and she pulled it away from him.

“Nah-uh, talk.”

He sighed in exasperation.

“If you give me the phone I can explain, sithan-”

“Don’t you fucking ‘sweetheart’ me, answer the goddamn question. How long, T’Challa?!”

“Just once. Eh, one and a half maybe-”

He was interrupted by a throw pillow to the head.

“How the fuck do you halfway cheat nigga?!”

“She just gave me head the first ti-”

“That’s still cheating!”

“Will you lower your voice? You have neighbors.”

“Fuck! Them! Did you even use a condom?”

“Yes, Kiana I’m not-”

“Stupid? You’re not stupid?” Kiana laughed. “Get the fuck out of my apartment.”

“My love, I-”

“Oh now I’m your love? Where the fuck was that energy when you were balls deep in this other bitch?!”

T’Challa stood there dumbstruck. He had never seen Kiana get this angry and didn’t know what to say. He knew he was wrong when he did it, but seeing the tears streaming down her face made him truly regret what he’d done. She had been so busy with school and work that she barely had time for him anymore. He had needs and just so happened to stumble upon someone more than willing to fulfil them.

He cursed himself for not locking his phone or at the very least, turning it over.

“How many, T’Challa...” Kiana sniffled.

“I told you, it was only twice-”

“How many women?!”

He froze, not knowing if he should mention Lisa since that was so much earlier in their relationship.

“Oh my god...oh my god...oh my- are you fucking serious?! I-I have to...I have to go get tested, I-”

“Kia-”

“What?!”

She looked at him with such fierceness that he shrunk under her gaze.

“I-I am sorry, I didn’t do it to hurt you, I was-”

He was stopped by a heavy-handed slap across his cheek that nearly knocked him over.

“Get the fuck out.” She said, barely above a whisper.

Six months later they ran into each other in the grocery store and decided to catch up over a cup of coffee. Kiana had healed and moved on, but T’Challa was still stuck on her. They had spent almost two good years together before he ruined what they had, and he just couldn’t let it go. He loved her, and he was determined to make it work this time.

Or so he really, truly thought before he met Marci...and Tanisha...

T’Challa knew he wasn’t a one-woman man, but he just couldn’t let Kiana go. His dalliances were never serious, just enough to scratch his constant itching. Sometimes they were a one-time thing, but others stuck around if they were good enough and knew how to be discreet. No matter what though, he always came back home to Kiana because despite his trash behavior, he really did love her in his own toxic way.

However, he didn’t love her enough to double check his calendar before leaving work on her birthday, or any day leading up to it. He had forgotten what day it was, and when he told Kiana to be ready at 7 he just meant for a regular date night.

It had been a long day at the Wakandan Embassy and Kiana’s Prince Charming needed a drink more than anything. He stopped at the first bar he came across that looked halfway decent. T’Challa walked up to the bar and caught the eye of the beautiful barkeep.

“Hiya, what can I do for you?”

T’Challa smiled his panty-dropping smile and she smiled back, revealing her perfect, white teeth. There was nothing he loved more than a pretty smile.

“Well, miss…”

“Tanisha,” she responded while using both arms to mix a shaker full of liquid courage and ice. His eyes avoided her chest, slyly watching in the periphery only.

“Well, Miss Tanisha, I had a horrible day at work and I am in need of a whiskey on the rocks. Preferably Jack, but truly anything will do.”

“We all have those days honey. Here’s a double on the house,” she said as she slid the drink to him across the bar top with a wink.

T’Challa licked his lips and lifted his glass to her before taking a sip of the warm amber liquid. He let out a sigh and his day seemed to melt away.

Tanisha kept coming back to check on him and they would chat when the crowd died down. T’Challa was on his third double when she came over with a plate of wings.

“You’re an angel.” He dug into the wings and made a complete mess on his shirt, so he went to the bathroom to try to wash the stain out. On his way back to the bar he noticed a very tall and sweaty man leaning over the bar trying to talk to Tanisha. From what he could see, she wasn’t feeling the conversation, but he kept approaching her anyway. When T’Challa returned to his seat she immediately gravitated towards him. This angered Mr. Tall and Sweaty, who drunkenly attempted to punch T’Challa in the face. T’Challa dodged the lazy punch and knocked him out cold with one hit. Security saw the whole thing go down, and removed Tall and Sweaty from the building once he came to.

“What you got planned for the night, handsome?”

“Nothing at all, why do you ask?”

“I get off at 9, wanna hang out?”

“Absolutely.”

“Good, now here’s a water.”

“Thank you, angel.”

By 10pm he was already halfway inside her, and when his phone started vibrating he was too wrapped up in her to think anything of it. Without looking he quieted the annoying sound and turned the phone off so he could focus on the task at hand.

Two and a half hours later, T’Challa was creeping out of Tanisha’s bed right as Kiana was sliding into hers. She had washed off all her makeup, but she didn’t have the emotional energy to tie up her hair. Normally she would wear one of T’Challa’s t-shirts, but she was too angry with him so she slept in a cute nighty she never wore. She admired herself in the mirror for half a second before bursting into tears and pulling the covers up to her head. She tried to stop crying, but the tears kept coming and she eventually gave herself a headache. How could he miss her birthday?

Kiana got up and threw on her plush maroon robe before she padded to the bathroom to grab some Advil. On the way she noticed her phone getting multiple notifications, the first of which was from her best friend Bebe.

“Have u seen this?! Sis, I’m so sorry. When we slashing his tires? Just 3 tho, this nigga needs to pay $$$.”

“What the fuck is she talking about?”

Kiana clicked the link and saw that it was Bebe’s cousin Darrell’s Instagram Story. Apparently there was a fight at the bar where he was celebrating a coworker’s promotion and he had filmed it for all of Instagram to see. Kayla stared at her phone in shock. There was her aint-shit boyfriend at a goddamn bar on her fucking birthday. She watched him punch a guy in the face on her birthday. At a bar. Without her.

She thought the kicker came when she saw him turn around and flirt with the bartender, but the story after that just about killed her. There he was, leading her out the back door with his hand too far down on her lower back to be simply platonic. Even the caption read “Ooooh someone’s about to get some ‘thank you’ pussy. That damsel in distress pussy hit different!”

Kiana saw red and almost cracked her phone for a second time tonight.

She grabbed the remaining merlot and downed it before throwing the bottle at the picture of them on the fridge. She watched the glass shatter and cut their faces while the trace bit of deep red wine seeped down the picture like blood. She wanted to trash the whole place, but remembered she would have to clean it later. Kiana started to hyperventilate and felt like she needed to get some air when she heard the lock turn.

“Kiki, what are you doin- are you ok? What happened here?”

Kiana ignored him as she walked towards where she threw her phone, silently pulling up the story and handing it to him. She watched his face go from confused, to shocked, to fearful. No regret, though.

“Ki-”

“Give me your key.”

“Kiana, please let me-”

“The key. Now,” she said with her voice completely devoid of any emotion.

T’Challa assumed she would be angry and yell or throw things, but this quiet storm terrified him. To him, it felt like she didn’t even care anymore. He was right.

He slowly reached his hand out and she snatched the key ring, removing hers and tossing the rest back to him.

“I’ll have your stuff packed by the morning. It’ll be outside my door by 8am. If it’s still there when I get back from work it’s going in the trash.”

T’Challa couldn’t bear the coldness in her voice. Tears rolled down his face and his knees buckled.

“Kiana, please. I can explain, I didn-”

“I don't give a fuck what you did or didnt do. You know why?”

“W-why?”

“Because it was my birthday, T’Challa. MY FUCKING BIRTHDAY and YOU forgot it. Not only did you forget it, my gift was you fucking some other bitch and leaving me lonely yet again. So no, I don't care if you fucked her or not even though I know your sorry ass did. I know she’s probably not the only one because I saw how easily you slid on in there in that video. You were way too comfortable, so I don't even want to ask you how many because it doesnt fucking matter anymore. Now you can stick your dick in every fine ass Black girl you see without remorse, oh wait...you were already doing that. So fuck you, get out my apartment before I call my brothers.”

“Kiana…”

“5, 4, 3,...” Kiana counted as she dialed her eldest brother Trey’s number, ignoring T'Challa's pathetic excuses. “2, 1… Hey Trey, I’m sorry did I wake you up?...Yeah I have a situat- oh look at that, his bitch ass is leaving-”

“I am sorry, Kiana,” T’Challa said one last time before she slammed the door in his face. He could hear her on the other side of the door explaining the situation to her brother, and when she started to cry it finally hit him. Her wails broke his spirit and more tears fell from his eyes.

He knew Trey would be over soon to comfort his baby sister and he needed to get the hell out of dodge, so T’Challa left Kiana’s apartment and never came back. Not even for his things, which turned out to be the best thing for Kiana because she and her girls got to burn it all up in Trey’s backyard fire pit and finally release that toxic man from her life.

#cecewritessometimes #black panther fic #tchalla fic #tchalla x oc #angst #niggas aint shit #aly & aj #potential breakup song

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mondayrobot · 3 years

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Year-End Fanfiction List (M)

This year has opened me to so many fan-fictions. Here are the list of EM fan-fictions that I thoroughly enjoyed reading this year.

Warning: The contents contain adult themes.

Rating: Mature

a royal weakness ( liquorisce ) @liquorisce

In everyone else’s eyes, she was just his Commander, the Silver Lady, the first woman to take control over the entire King’s fleet. But to him she was so much more, the girl who’d been by his side for the longest time, his most trusted companion… His lover.

Abditive ( Blanca21 )

It was a countless time he heard them calling her cold-blooded and heartless.In his mind, she was anything except those words.

All I need ( liquorisce ) @liquorisce

This fic features long time lovers Eren and Mikasa, their bid to make their own family, and in that process discovering what family really means.

and i am a smiling woman ( orphan_account )

and they have longed for each other; mourned for each other.

Big Bad World ( MyTARDISsenseIsTingling ) @my-tardis-sense-is-tingling

What if Eren hadn't gotten there to rescue Mikasa in time?

Broken Down ( miikasaa )

It's in the dead of night, with innumerable regrets and dead faces haunting them, that Eren and Mikasa use each other's bodies to chase away the horrors of a failed mission. It never works, they know this all too well, but it doesn't stop them from trying.

Come to Me, My Sweetest Friend ( Lyssala ) @lyssala

A collection of Tumblr requests that take place in an Alternative Modern Day Universe where Mikasa and Eren grew up as neighbors with both their parents still alive.

Degrees of Sleeplessness ( cupofdaydream ) @cupofdaydream

“To share in the night’s quiet loneliness, a companion for the vast hours of sleeplessness, is, perhaps, all they’ve ever wanted.” Two teachers at the local high school, Eren and Mikasa, in the midst of work and home-life, find themselves indubitably and inescapably drawn to one another.

Elysian ( miikasaa )

Collection of works showing Eren and Mikasa's relationship in canon, post-canon, and modern settings.

Feels Like Home ( Lyssala ) @lyssala

Even when their homes were a thing of the long past, they always found a home in the comfort of each other.

Games ( miikasaa )

Restless after beginning their days as trainees, the 104th decide to relax a bit by playing strip poker. It goes about as well as anyone can imagine.

Girls and Boys ( Lindsey (Lipstick) )

A collection of one-shots depicting the relationship between Eren and Mikasa in various ways.

Happy Anniversary ( blehbleehhhh )

It's Eren and MIkasa's second anniversary. Things get kinky after returning home from dinner.

How to Coexist ( spoilerarlert ) @spoilerarlert

Rent in NYC is ridiculous, but by a stroke of luck, Mikasa manages to snag an apartment for mindblowingly cheap rates. However, upon moving in, she discovers, to her horror, that her roommate Eren was a past one-night stand. In which two twenty-somethings struggle to shrug aside their misgivings, not to mention diffuse a helluva lotta sexual tension—for the sake of affordable rent.

I Bet My Life For You ( Lyssala ) @lyssala

A collection of Tumblr requests that take place in the canon universe within the story line, or were predictions for future chapters at the time, focusing on Eren and Mikasa.

I'll Take You Back Where You Belong ( Lyssala ) @lyssala

A collection of Tumblr requests that take place in an Alternative Modern Day Universe where Eren saved Mikasa as children from a home invasion that killed her parents and caused her to live with her much older brother Levi.

I'm Gonna Be the Man Whose Coming Home to You ( Lyssala ) @lyssala

Still determined to keep things normal after a twist in their relationship, Eren and Mikasa still go through with their plans to take a road trip to the the Jaeger's beach house with Armin, Connie, Sasha, and Jean their summer after their first year of college. Their friends are weary of everyone being crammed in a car with them at close proximity, but they soon learn not all is as it seems (and that there are far more awkward things to deal with in close spaces).

Kaleidoscopes ( Kaekiro ) @kaekiro

A collection of stories that will follow Eren and Mikasa through various AUs.

Keeping Warm ( lionhart )

Eren and Mikasa’s first time.

king, lover, hold me tight ( artsycat )

Mikasa, as one of the heroes that single-handedly ensured the victory of Eldia against Marley during the war, must now use her newfound status to marry Eren, judged as a traitor in the eyes of Eldia, in order to ensure his protection.

Kiss With a Fist ( DenDenSushi, Lyssala ) @lyssala

It's always a normal day at school when an Apocalypse decides to descend. One minute Eren is trying to pass his chemistry class & the next he's wielding a baseball bat against bodies trying to bite him. Along with Mikasa & Armin, they are forced into a world where all it takes is one bite & you're dead.

Lawless ( kuchenackerman ) @kuchenackerman

Despite his youth, Eren Jaeger is one of the best and most required doctors of the Kingdom. Among those interested on his services is included a recognized criminal clan, which does not hesitate to use the youngest of the Ackerman as bait. Eren never imagined that this "harmless" girl in red dress would get him into so much trouble.

Lullabies in the Night ( happymikasa ) @happymikasa

People's voices sound quite beautiful when they sing, hum, or tweet. Mikasa discovered that after the defeat of the Titans.

Eren's voice is the most powerful though. Especially when he takes her to bed at night.

Lulls in the Sea ( dialectus ) @dialectus

"Lull: a temporary interval of quiet or lack of activity."

milk and honey ( bbyunnie ) @moonguks

a series of oneshots centered around eren and mikasa, across variant universes and situations.

OFFSIDE ( La_Ultima_00 )

Eren returns home and meets someone unexpected. After so long, his poor heart has not forgotten her.

Peace time ( almost_certain )

Eren and Mikasa haven't spoken since the last battle. Perhaps they can be civil long enough for their friends to tie the knot.

Reason for Dreaming ( mikasuhdude ) @mikasuhdude

Mikasa and Armin have known each other for the past three years, having the same college major and all. It's traditional of them to study in Mikasa's dorm with her stoner roommate, Sasha. One afternoon, they opt to study in Armin's apartment, and that's where she meets his roommate. He's a fiery guy, interrupting their study session by loudly cursing over a mustard-stained shirt and a family-owned restaurant.

Reckless Roses ( mikasuhdude ) @mikasuhdude

Not every couple is blessed with fertility.

Ruins In Bloom ( miikasaa )

Three years after the eradication of the Titans, Eren, Mikasa, Armin, and a few other survivors are ready to settle down in the free world. Finished with their travels and free from the oppression of the Titans, they're ready to begin their new lives. However, as each of the veterans knows, somethings are impossible to bury completely in the past. Scars will never completely heal, and sometimes, leaving behind a lifetime of warfare is unattainable.

Mikasa wishes for the domestic life she's always craved, and with Armin and Eren by her side, she thinks she'll finally get it. But the sudden change proves to be too much for Eren, and to her horror, he leaves. He leaves her behind, leaves everyone behind, and leaves her to deal with a change in her life she never wanted to experience on her own.

Say You'll Stay With Me ( miikasaa )

Sometimes it was enough simply to be with Mikasa, to hold her close, to hear her heart and know that they'd survived one more day together. And sometimes, she needed to be closer, to let him help her to forget the terror they witness every day.

Seasons of the Sea ( Lindsey (Lipstick) )

At the age of twenty-three, Mikasa gives birth to their first child – a small, tiny little girl – in their home by the sea, built after the defeat of the titans. An hour later, Eren disappears for three days, only a kiss on her forehead prior to signal his departure.

set in stone ( Beatingheartanthem )

Eren is jostled around by time, experiencing and re-experiencing different moments with Mikasa. Some choices made are the same. Some choices made are different. He knows he's going to die, but he'd like a moment of peace before he does.

So, then— ( Beatingheartanthem )

Over the past two years, Mikasa and Armin have grown estranged from their childhood friend. With a new girlfriend, new friends, Eren Jaeger is a person they don't quite know. Senior year: With graduation around the corner, Eren disappears forever. Now Mikasa wonders if things could've been different. In every version of history, in every universe, every path taken, is his fate set in stone?

the rivers song ( artsycat )

Mikasa has always dreamt about life afterwards.

Under the brine ( milkywaywide ) @milkywaywide

But Eren is still in her. And she can’t shake the utter alienation she feels, so bad it almost feels like an out of body experience, like a weird dream, like she’s drowning.

vermillion ( sionnacha )

Eren’s mouth tastes of blood—like putrid liquefied iron, and still, she cannot stop herself from diving in for more. Even though the earth around them is scorched, even though there is rubble and ash everywhere she looks, all she wants his him.

Washed-Up and Rundown ( spoilerarlert ) @spoilerarlert

Levi, a washed-up ex-journalist working a dead-end custodian job, finds himself transplanted into a suburban neighborhood, serving as the legal guardian of his sixteen-year-old second cousin, twice removed, Mikasa. There, he struggles to navigate the dynamic of this two-person household and in the midst locks horns with the local pain-in-the-ass: a teenager a few houses down the street by the name of Eren Jaeger.

We'll Go Home and Start Again ( Lyssala ) @lyssala

A collection of Tumblr requests that take place in Alternative Universes of many varieties featuring Eren and Mikasa.

When You Break ( cupofdaydream ) @cupofdaydream

"And when he kisses her, she can immediately tell that tonight is no different than the others." Eren and Mikasa seek shelter from the memories that haunt them in each other's arms. Mikasa comes to realize that you can't always kiss away the pain.

With You, I Am Home ( cupofdaydream ) @cupofdaydream

A collection of drabbles following Eren and Mikasa's relationship through various scenarios.

#eremika #tbd #fanfiction #writing

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sweet-barnes · 4 years

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for when you’re feeling soft - fic recs

hey! so i’ve made this masterlist full of fluffy fics that i’ve enjoyed to give light to some smaller pieces of work that i think deserve the attention! i hope you all enjoy them as much as i do and it would be lovely if you could reblog this to share their work further!

all fics can be found below, including Bucky, Steve, Sam and Loki✨

sorry i had to repost this, the account tags weren’t working properly!

Bucky x reader

Series

what a man gotta do - @barnesjamcs

Pairing: Bucky x reader

Summary: All Bucky wants is a date with you, to which you agree. But only after he completes the long list of instance tasks you’ve given him. In short, it’ll never happen. Fast forward to six years later, and not only is he back, but he’s completed more than half the tasks on said list. No big deal, until you get a tweet from him asking about the date you promised him so long ago. Will Bucky finally get the girl of his dreams that he’s been chasing all this time?

Warnings: no warnings given!

bottles, babies and bucky - @its-elle-bitch

Pairing: dad!Bucky x reader

Summary: Y/N and Bucky are a couple of newlyweds eager to bask in their honeymoon period after their dream wedding. However, they soon find that this won’t be easy with 3 rambunctious small children running around the Brooklyn small apartment the family lives in. What happens when Y/N finds out she’s expecting? How will she tell Bucky who made it very clear that their third child was also to be their last?

Warnings: no warnings given!

the setup - @justagirlinafandomworld

Pairing: firefighter!Bucky x reader

Summary: Still heartbroken from your last relationship, romance and relationships are far off from your radar. But your friend has taken it upon herself to set you up on a surprise blind date. God only knows where it can go from there.

Warnings: first date/blind date jitters. Firefighter!Bucky & Firefighter!Steve.

call me baby - @starkillerbarnes

Pairing: biker!Bucky x reader

Summary: Returning to Brooklyn for the summer after a year of travelling from city to city, you hadn’t expected to find your best friend, Peggy Carter, hopelessly in love with a biker, and when she decided to introduce you to the rest of his club, you hadn’t expected to fall for one either — that was until you met one with pretty eyes and a habit of calling you baby.

Warnings: violence, implied smut, swearing, smoking, mild drinking.

that summer - @tellmealovestory

Pairing: modern!Bucky x reader

Summary: You’ve spent every summer since you were a child in the idyllic beach town that you call home three months out of the year. This summer should be no different except for the addition of Bucky Barnes. Sparks fly upon first meeting, but it’s only a summer fling, right? Modern AU

Warnings: Swearing, fluff, smut, angst.

One-Shots

missed you, missed home - @buckybarney

Pairing: soft!Bucky x reader

Summary: Bucky has a hard time accepting your love.

Warnings: A bit of angst and self-esteem issues, nothing serious, mostly fluff.

your aftercare - @buckys-minty-breath

Pairing: Bucky x reader

Summary: Bucky takes care of you after a long, exhausting mission.

Warnings: no warnings given!

dance with me - @kitkatd7

Pairing: Bucky x reader

Summary: Saying 'I love you' for the first time

Warnings: none, just fluff

more hearts than mine - @nastybuckybarnes

Pairing: mechanic!Bucky x reader

Summary: Your car breaks down during a road trip, which results in Bucky finally meeting your parents, and finding out the reason why you've been so opposed to him meeting them for the past year.

Warnings: Fluff, tiny bit of angst, More Fluff

protector - @starkillerbarnes

Pairing: mob!Bucky x reader

Summary: Ironically, the man with blood on his hands and a permanent target on his back was the one you’d never felt safer with.

Warnings: swearing, mild violence + assault, stalking, mentions of illness + death, fluff.

the little things - @starspangledseb

Pairing: Bucky x wife!reader

Summary: just a dance in the rain

Warnings: no warnings given!

a possible test run - @writingsoftheloser

Pairing: Bucky x reader

Summary: When Y/n’s sister asks her a favor, Bucky Barnes steps up and offers his precious and surprising help.

Warnings: none, some swearing maybe but it’s a fluff fest

moonlight attraction - @writingsoftheloser

Pairing: Bucky x reader

Summary: Searching for help against a new threat, Sharon brings Bucky and Sam to an isolated house in the middle of nowhere, inhabited by a quite mysterious person.

Warnings: some violence, swearing

dream a little dream of me - @writeyourmindaway

Pairing: Bucky x reader

Summary: Prompt “Can I call you”

Warnings: a curse word (just the one)

meant to be - @writeyourmindaway

Pairing: Bucky x reader (Diner AU)

Summary: Wanda arranges a surprise for the team but you really didn’t expect what you find on the other side

Warnings: none, I think, just a very different take on this AU

Steve x reader

Series

morning siren - @tales-of-spring

Pairing: Steve x baker!reader

Summary: Your usual mornings at the bakery change when a handsome customer comes waltzing right through the front door and into your heart.

Warnings: Different POV’s, Flirting, Falling in love, Blushing, Steve and reader being shy, Fluff

One-shots

the golden knight - @buckys-forgotten-plum

Pairing: knight!Steve x maid!reader

Summary: Sir Steven Rogers surely has become your Golden Knight.

Warnings: Really none? Steve being a hopeless romantic and reciting poetry!

lazy afternoons - @honeydew-rogers

Pairing: Steve x reader

Summary: cottagecore meets steve rogers; soft afternoon naps in the sun.

Warnings: tooth rotting fluff, soft boy steve

two good dogs - @jobean12-blog

Pairing: vet!Steve x reader

Summary: You meet Steve at the dog park :)

Warnings: no warnings given!

loose acquaintances - @poppunkdork

Pairing: Steve x reader

Summary: Prompt: “I miss being surrounded by loose acquaintances who think I’m funny and smart and charming”

Warnings: mostly fluff, shocking i know, a lot of banter

nice guys finish last - @slyyywriting

Pairing: Steve x reader

Summary: Steve wants you to notice that he’s the one you should be dating and doting on but you only have a thing for bad guys.

Warnings: cuss words, villains being shot, Steve being a puppy

Sam x reader

nervous - @dreamwritesimagines

Pairing: Sam x reader

Summary: Sam Wilson is never nervous.

Warnings: none

firefighter!Sam - @marvelsswansong

Pairing: firefighter!Sam x reader

Summary: request: how about firefighter!Sam?

Warnings: no warnings given!

no worries - @melanoms

Pairing: Sam x reader

Summary: A hello/good-bye kiss that is given without thinking - where neither person thinks twice about it

Warnings: no warnings given!

Loki x reader

perfectly, my love - @lov3nerdstuff

Pairing: Loki x reader

Summary: You and Loki talk about the importance of the perfect pace.

Warnings: no warnings given!

akkeri - @writingsoftheloser

Pairing: Loki x reader

Summary: akkeri, Old Norse for anchor (n), someone or something that gives support when needed.

Warnings: none

#fic recs #fic rec masterlist #bucky barnes #bucky x reader #bucky barnes x reader #sam wilson #sam x reader #sam wilson x reader #steve rogers #steve x reader #steve rogers x reader #loki #loki laufeyson #loki x reader

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missorgana · 3 years

Text

can’t say anything to your face

pairing: bucky barnes/sam wilson

fandom: marvel cinematic universe

rating: teen and up

word count: 7779

warning: swearing, alcohol, brief mention of death

summary: Bucky loves Sam, and he tells him so, in his own way. (mostly canon compliant sambucky pining)

(my longest fic yet??? since TFATWS is still taking over my life, here’s some more sambucky fluff slash angst. they’re everything to me. this thing is a bit self-indulgent too, after the idea from this tweet! so all thanks to twitter user @/SAMBUCKY616 for this concept, even tho my danish is probably not the best interpretation jgdjd.... oh well! and thank you to Cat / @wendigostag as always, because you convinced me to write it and beta read and just..... ur perfect. mwah! hope you all enjoy this???)

read on ao3

A remnant that sticks with Bucky, still sticks with him after he’s rid of the Winter Soldier for good, is the language.

The only good thing, really. He could live without every one of the screams he hears in his dreams and lifeless bodies imprinted on his retinas, but that sticks on too, real tight. Being fluent in more languages than he imagined to be is bearable.

Not exactly bearable, though, not when many of them are tainted with those memories that he tries to distance himself to when he’s awake. He’s learning. It’s harder at night, when there’s darkness and stillness and no distractions from what creeps up on him every time.

French is hard. He knows every word to express the chaos in his head, but he can’t pronounce them. German, too. Russian, Spanish, Mandarin. He’s especially fond of Arabic, which is also particularly difficult for him to dig up from his brain, not because he doesn’t remember it, but because the screams in his head get too loud for him to think.

It’s a shame.

There’s one exception in his, quite frankly, extensively large vocabulary, and that’s Danish.

Bucky doesn’t know why this language in particular was something the Winter Soldier (he usually tries to think of him as a separate entity altogether, because, well, it hurts less) needed, given that, as far as his memory reaches, it was never used.

And this is why he finds himself drawn to it.

Of course, English is what he speaks on a day-to-day basis, and it feels… mostly normal. But somehow, Danish becomes a thing of comfort. Or safety, more likely.

He’s pretty sure his pronunciation sounds like absolute hell, the words sometimes more harsh than he intends, making him want to turn himself inside out in embarrassment. All these feelings, they’re difficult to describe.

Especially the ones relating to Sam Wilson.

Sam.

Sam, Sam, Sam. He’s the only other constant visitor in the back of his mind, and whether that’s a good or a bad thing, up for discussion. A welcome distraction or… something more painful.

Yeah, this feeling is a hard one. Maybe it’s because it’s more than two decades since he’s felt it, or maybe he knows, deep down, that he hasn't ever felt it at all.

Since they met, he’s sworn that he hated him. But he doesn’t. It’s so bleeding obvious he might as well get it tattooed on his forehead.

Annoying, positive, calm, vulnerable, perfect Sam. Perfect- ugh, yes, it’s the only word left for him to describe him. It makes sense, like a lightbulb flicked on in his head and since then it hasn’t stopped shining.

Bucky doesn’t really know how this happened. Why or when. Maybe it came to him in that final battle, finding himself living and breathing, and the very first person he saw, first of anything he put his eyes upon, was Sam.

Or maybe it already dawned upon him in Steve’s awfully cramped car, where Sam wouldn’t move his stupid seat up.

Regardless, along the way, his habit of mumbling to himself in the Danish tongue in frustration or anxiety has developed into a way of letting things he doesn’t want his… co-worker to hear flow through, and out into the wide world, without any worry.

If he says what he wants to yell at the top of his lungs, in a way Sam would understand, that could only be the last drop into the oblivion of hating the universe.

He won’t feel that way. Sam is so… good. Bucky isn’t. He deserves better than that.

It’s easier this way, he tells himself. It’s fucking easier. He has a hard time keeping his rage toward himself inside, but he does it.

And that’s exactly what he does, when their reunion in the airport has them at each other’s throats again , and as Sam goes on ahead, refusing for him to follow (of course, he does follow, anyway), and Bucky can’t help himself.

“Jeg skal være sikker p�� at du kommer tilbage.”

He utters the words through slightly gritted teeth, not realising how his breathing picks up too quickly until the other man glances back at him from the entrance of the aircraft, “What did you say?”

It’s the first time he’s not cursed at himself, and Sam’s response makes him jump in his skin. Honestly, the realisation of the words only settles afterwards, and he knows there’s no way he understood it. Not only is Danish one of the least widespread languages, so the chance of Sam even being aware of it is less than microscopical, but his voice is also in a steady fight with the wind. Lucky for once, huh.

“Nothing,” he lies. Sam doesn’t look convinced. Bucky adds, “Talking to myself. I’m still coming with you.”

The sounds are too loud around them, making him all the more eager to get inside. One of the many wonderful side effects of the aftermath of being brainwashed? Massive, stubborn headaches.

Funny enough, the pain might just be getting worse when the man in front of him visibly sighs, “Suit yourself.”

…

Going after the Flag Smashers, getting their asses handed to them, a certain thorn in his eye showing up, it all goes too quick for Bucky to fully comprehend.

In the end, Sam saves his life, because it’s Sam. Sam, who put his trust in him when he didn’t know him, when he had absolutely no reason to, and yet he did. He’s been spending a lot of time scared that the other man will come to regret it.

And it’s when they’re off the road and the world stops moving, and suddenly, Bucky’s looming inches above Sam’s face, grass grazing and tickling their faces. Or he’d probably feel that, if he wasn’t biting his cheek so hard that he might draw blood.

Sam groans but doesn’t move an inch.

I want to kiss you so fucking bad, Bucky wants to say. But that would be the stupidest and most reckless decision of his yet. Instead, he swallows the words and tells him, “Could’ve used that shield.”

Sam’s grip on his arms tightens, “Get off of me.”

The other man’s voice is strained and he pushes him off, leaving him to stare at the sky with a certain feeling of numbness.

He’s prepared for a long walk back from wherever they’ve ended up, too, Bucky’s not really paying attention to the surroundings besides the road and Sam relieving the tension that’s built up between them (far from uncommon with them, he’s got to admit) with his usual joking jabs.

He didn’t welcome his apology for Redwing much. It’s true, he hated that droid, but that doesn’t mean he’s not sorry… although, deeper inside of him he knows he’s saying sorry for totally different reasons.

I’m sorry you got hurt, is what. I’m sorry you had to pull me out of the fire that I got us into.

“What’s going on in that big cyborg brain of yours?”

Bucky sighs non committedly, he’s heard this one before. “It’s computing.”

And Sam laughs, softly and with a warm tinge that makes it hard for him to keep walking like he doesn’t care. The man next to him tries to be smug, and in the past these pokes at him would get him riled up and walk away without sparing it another thought.

It’s different now. He looks at his smirk for just a second before turning his head, and it’s fine, he won’t notice, stop worrying.

Sam doesn’t hate him, he’s realised. He realised that a while ago, admittedly, but what’s more important to the pressing in Bucky’s chest, Sam doesn’t fear him.

All this pain, hurt and confusion, the Avengers torn up from the inside and running from the government for years, and yet, there isn’t a hint of resentment in his steady voice, his deep brown eyes or the way he falls into step with his own body. Sam makes that joke because he’s a smug idiot who doesn’t let defeat bring him down. Maybe, he even makes that joke to get a smile out of Bucky.

The man at his side doesn’t hate him anymore. In fact, he’s not sure he’s ever hated him in the first place.

“You know what?” Sam says in between his breathy laughs, sounding like he just discovered a lost treasure, “I can see it! I can see the gears turning.”

If Bucky had it in him, he would dare to smile. He would dare to join his laughter, but he doesn’t. It’d probably come out sounding all wrong, anyway.

Which is why he keeps his shoulders tight and gets back on track with what happened, and Sam follows suit. Sometimes he’s convinced the other man can read his mind. And because their arms move in synchron, within a distance where he could so easily reach out for his hand and feel what it’s like to hold it, his thoughts start running along with his mouth.

“Hvorfor gav du slip?” Bucky keeps his eyes glued to his feet, determined to keep the question to himself only, “Hvis jeg var modig nok havde jeg kysset dig.”

Sam’s voice returns to him, “Hm?”

“What?”

His co-worker laughs again, but he furrows his brows and suddenly it’s not that exact warmth that Bucky might’ve just allowed himself to feel safe in. Like the man next to him sees something in him no one does, not even himself. He’d like to know whatever secret Sam’s unlocked about him behind that look.

“You’re so weird sometimes, man.” he’s told, but there isn’t a single shred of judgement painted on any of the syllables. Sometimes.

…

“What was rule number two again?”

It was a stupid question, because Bucky knows. Those rules have been repeated too many times for him not to repeat it to himself whenever he needed to silence everything around him.

Don’t do anything illegal. Don’t hurt anyone. I am no longer the Winter Soldier. I am James Bucky Barnes.

Then why, after a failed mission, after meeting that fraud who thinks he can just take on the shield like it’s nothing, after his therapist put him and Sam through a conversation that led nowhere at all, does he feel like he just broke that rule?

Of course, he’s been bending the rules a bit.

Of course, he knows why he’s feeling like this.

True to his word, Sam waits for him outside. “When we’re done, we both can go on seperate, long vacations, and never see each other again.”

The warmth that radiated off of the other man earlier that day had vanished somewhere unknown, and the pressure on that last part made it clear. That’s what fills Bucky with the type of guilt and regret that makes him want to rip his own skin off. He’s all too familiar with that feeling already.

He doesn’t blame Sam one bit, obviously. Well, he’d still like to grab that shield from John Walker and shove it somewhere the sun doesn’t shine, but the anger he’d misplaced on his co-worker, it vanished as fast as it had first arrived.

Sam is so fucking good, it almost makes him want to cry.

Sam trusted his heart, trusted what he believed was right, and he didn’t know the government was going to snatch that opportunity and hand the shield over to some nobody who doesn’t know what it stands for. Hand it over like they had any say in the matter.

Bucky didn’t doubt Steve’s decision for a second, and Bucky didn’t- doesn’t doubt Sam. Especially now, he looks at him in the evening glow and understands why Steve trusted him when he trusted no one else. Bucky trusts him. He hasn’t been this confident about anything in ages.

But because his stubbornness never fails to take a hold of him, Sam doesn’t know that.

The other man notices him coming and is already walking. He doesn’t look him in the eyes anymore. Why would he? It’s not like he earned it.

Bucky tries hard to breathe around the lump in his throat.

And he doesn’t even bother hiding his contempt around Walker anymore, while Sam keeps him tied to reality, a hand on his chest that causes everything in him to freeze, until the malfunction can’t make him do anything other than turn around and walk away.

Down to business, that’s what they fucking talked about.

Bucky has an idea and he’s gonna get it out and make it a reality, and, surprisingly enough, Sam agrees. We go deal with it.

It makes for another long walk. But now it’s long and painfully silent. Fan-fucking-tastic.

He steals glances at Sam too many times for it to be considered casual, or fleeting, and he memorizes his fingers tapping his thigh mid-walk, his jawline, every single eyelash that’s blinking hard, a habit of his when he’s stressed, Bucky’s noticed.

Their movements aren’t synchronised anymore. It’s sort of poetic.

He doesn’t realise he’s muttering it to himself, “Undskyld.” because he doesn’t have the courage to hear Sam’s answer, “Undskyld.” because he knows there’s no way the man next to him is going to forgive him, “Undskyld.” because he doesn’t deserve his forgiveness.

He’d overstepped the boundary. Whatever progress they’d made in this weird dynamic of theirs, whatever closeness became a tangible size, is wiped clean from the slate because he was pissed. But it had nothing to do with him. Steve had, but the shield doesn’t. Sam doesn’t need him to tell him that.

“That some sort of mantra?” is what breaks him out of his head.

Sam’s got an eyebrow raised, his hands absentmindedly reaching for something, phone most likely, given they have to move fast.

“What do you mean?”

So the other man slows down and tilts his head, “What you just whispered to yourself.”

Yeah, Bucky’s a horrendous liar. And he can’t feign ignorance around Sam. He can’t fake anything, his body language, his thoughts, his emotions. He wished they’d shut the fuck up for a minute.

He sniffs, shrugs, pondering on the easiest way to get out of this confrontation, if you can even call it that.

“No.”

“Didn’t sound like English.”

“‘Cause it isn’t.”

Sam looks terribly kissable right now. Not because of the streetlights or the faint noise of traffic buzzing around them, but because he’s standing under the moon, almost glowing. Bucky imagines his stupid, addictive smile, and how the moon doesn’t stand a chance compared to his beauty.

He wishes that he could lean over and the man wouldn’t push him away. He’s a tragic romantic.

His co-worker also has that expression on his face that tells him he’s too drained for snark, probably incredibly close to calling it a day. Actually, he expects him to speak, but five seconds pass, and his whole demeanor shifts, and then they’re walking again.

Once again, Sam seems to know him better than he knows himself. We go deal with it. Never see each other again. It sounds great, sounds perfect, sounds ideal, he tells his internal voice, because if he repeats it enough times he might just convince himself to believe it.

It’s not like the thought of Sam never looking at him, never speaking to him and never, ever, wanting anything to do with him again makes him want to scream until he’s got no air left in his lungs. That would be ridiculous.

…

Things happen, and at this point, Bucky just comes to accept it.

It’s almost become a bitter-tasting routine. Something bad happens, his plan backfires, something worse happens, it goes too fast for him to comprehend, so he’s been attempting for the last months to only focus on the moment.

The moment and the memories creeping in the shadows. They’re the hardest to keep at bay.

And at the moment, he’s seated on Sharon’s couch in her luxurious apartment in Madripoor, she’s telling them what to do, because their plan didn’t exactly work, Zemo’s wandering around like the cockroach he’d let out, and Sam’s taken his fucking shirt off.

So Bucky keeps his look square on his drink.

If he keeps his posture, trains his attention on Sharon’s voice, maybe he’ll avoid feeling so flustered.

He’s become pretty accustomed to faking it, admittedly. Not exactly a good thing to lie to his therapist, he’s well aware, but that’s a problem for when this is over. Dr. Raynor, she just… she couldn’t understand him.

That’s not her fucking job, he reminds himself. Her job is to help him move on with his life. Put the past behind him, get a fresh start. Talk about his feelings. “You have to talk about it,” she’d told him. “You can’t ignore your trauma. It’s dangerous.”

She’s right, but like he told her, he’s fine. Totally fine.

And that’s not what he’s struggling with right now, anyway. He hadn’t let Raynor in on anything about Sam apart from ignoring his messages, because these feelings of his are surely one-sided, and besides, Bucky doesn’t think he deserves it.

Being in love, he thinks it’s called. Or maybe he’s just not ready for it.

“Try to blend in.” Sharon’s voice calls in the distance. Her smile is incredibly smug for some reason.

It doesn’t faze him that Sam’s trying to get his attention, and that she leaves the room, until the other man’s sitting next to him (now fully dressed, both to his luck and disappointment), making it, like, 200 times harder to ignore him. And he’s examining him with those all-knowing eyes of his.

Sam can read people pretty easily. Or maybe it’s just Bucky. Or maybe he’s just too obvious, that anyone could read him like an open book.

“Bucky.” is what he says, and Bucky simply nods tightlipped, but apparently that doesn’t serve as sufficient acknowledgement for Sam, because he places a hand on his shoulder.

He feels sort of pathetic for not knowing how to breathe now. Such a simple touch. A friendly touch. A gesture. Yet he can’t think of anything else.

Out of the corner of his eye, Zemo’s watching them and opens his mouth, but the man next to him beats him to it with, “Didn’t you hear her? Go.”

The hard tone always sounds wrong in Sam’s whole being.

And the man looking at them accepts the defeat, surprisingly enough, seeping out of the room faster than Bucky could blink.

So, they’re alone. Cool. He doesn’t know what to do with himself, besides keep drinking. Keep drinking, don’t say anything stupid, don’t hurt him more than you already have.

When he finally chances a look at Sam, he seems… troubled.

He’s not sure if it’s his imagination playing tricks on him, or if he’s stupidly hopeful, but somehow, it feels like the other man’s got something on his mind. What that is, who knows.

The hand on his shoulder hasn’t left.

“Hey,” he starts, barely a sound, more a whisper, perhaps in fear that Bucky would startle and hide away, “I won’t force you to talk about it- or, well, anything.”

Did Sam just stutter? That was definitely his imagination. He’s just… he’s so… warm. Comforting. Beautiful. Bucky’s hand is getting clammy around the glass.

And when he looks at the man again, his big eyes are utterly sincere, so much so that Bucky would rip his heart out and hand it to him if he wished.

He’s not sure how well he’s doing with controlling his face, careful, not to offer any tells.

How would Sam react if he kissed him, right now? If he made a big, dumb love confession? He doesn’t even know how to describe his feelings to him, so it’d probably be clumsy. Messy. And his worst fear of all, that the man next to him would push him off in confusion, or embarrassment, or disgust.

Bucky can’t risk it.

Sam sighs, “I’m just worried about you.”

That makes him frown, and his co-worker looks back in bewilderment. He should stop doing that. Stop looking at him like he means something to him.

It’s the look that pushes the question out before he can think, “Why?”

Sam just seems tired. Not tired of your shit, but rather tired of you talking yourself down, kind of. That’s what he gets from his face, anyway.

“Come on, Buck.”

“I mean, aren’t we supposed to never see each other again?” he then asks, but it comes out more blunt, and sharper than he intended.

Sam retracts his hand. His shoulder aches to follow it.

“Mmhh.” is all the other man’s voice comes with. He folds his hands in his lap, stares at it for a while like it’s the most interesting thing on the planet. Why, oh God, why does he look like he just got his heart broken? “Yeah, I did say that.”

He’s only seen that expression on Sam a handful of times. Once, when Steve gave him the shield. Two, when his friend- Torres, that was his name, mentioned something about Afghanistan and Sam promptly jumped out of the open shaft without a warning. Three, when he’d pushed him off of him in the field. What does it mean now?

Bucky’s brain plays all his words over and over, but doesn’t know how to process them, or analyze them, or come to a natural conclusion. So he downs the last drop of whiskey, “Jeg har brug for dig.”

Geez, that was blunt. He guesses it's thanks to the stars he chose the right language to blurt that out, and Bucky proceeds to release the tight grip on his glass, about to get up and follow Sharon’s order, but Sam’s looking at him again, and as he established forever ago, that makes him weak in the knees. His entire body, actually, now that he thinks about it.

“Is that- that the same language?” Sam asks. Bucky’s awkwardly frozen mid-sitting, mid-standing, listening. “You know, you were talking to yourself. Outside the station.”

He’s right. He always is. So Bucky nods.

“It’s a saying.” and that only makes it the other man’s turn to frown, understandable. Not the most creative excuse, but now he’s gotta run with it, “Like ‘Don’t give up’, or whatever.”

He recognizes every look in Sam’s eyes, jotting them down in his memory in fear of forgetting the only person that makes him feel human. His co-worker is tying him to reality. Yep, another revelation, and he doesn’t know what to do with it.

This is the I don’t believe you for a second look. “That’s what you said? ‘Don’t give up’?”

Bucky snorts, “Nope.”

And so they both stand up, and from the other man already steps ahead of him, it’s clear he’s ruined another conversation. Like Sam gave up on understanding him altogether, and it makes him feel sick, because he isn’t exactly making it easy for him.

Look at me, Bucky hopes. Just look at me again. Please.

And Sam does. “And here I thought we were beginning to get along.”

…

Sam’s sigh is all too heavy for Bucky not to notice.

He thought he’d distract himself from Zemo’s annoying presence and annoying private plane by polishing his hand, but suddenly, the man in the other row looks painfully hopeless.

Sam can’t be that. It’s all wrong. He’s supposed to be made of sunshine and full of hope. He makes Bucky have some sort of hope.

“You okay?” he finds himself asking. He’d even put a hand on his shoulder the same way the other man did back in Madripoor, but it feels a little too personal when he remembers the third person in the room.

By the way Sam jumps just half an inch in his seat, so subtle you wouldn’t notice if you weren’t looking closely, Bucky can only guess he’s surprised he’s the one initiating conversation, for once.

“Yeah,” he answers, but it doesn’t sound all that true. “Just thinking about all the shit Sharon had to go through.”

That’s the thing about Sam, because he cares, cares like he’s pouring out his heart on everyone and saves nothing for himself. He cared about Bucky after knowing him for a day. He had a hard time believing it, but it’s true. And it’s what he likes- loves… loves about the other man the most.

Sam continues, “And Nagel referring to the American test subject like… like Isaiah wasn’t even a real person.”

Bucky feels stupid for nodding along. He should be saying something, or he feels like he should be making up for weirding him out back in Sharon’s flat, or apologise for yelling at him in the shootout, or anything. Apologise for breaking out the douche who’s plane they’re currently in, most of all.

See, talking seems easy, but it’s not when the words are overthinked as deeply as he does himself. Maybe that’s why him and Sam are as they are. Or maybe it’s in spite of that.

When Sam talks, he means every word. His voice is hushed, and he’s leaning into Bucky’s space now (which may or may not make him panic) to make sure Zemo stays out of their business. Not that they both don’t know he’s not going to do that, obviously. Again- his fault.

“Maybe I should’ve destroyed it.” takes him by surprise, though.

In his mind, in his inner voice of logic that he never listens to, he instantly understands why Sam says it, and agrees. There’s a lot of people in this world Bucky’s wronged. There’s a lot of people he hasn’t, but he still longs to help, or somehow feels guilty for. He still wants to change things. Isaiah is on the top of the list.

Which list is Sam on top of?

He’d not thought about his feelings like that before, but it hits him like it hit him back in Madripoor. He’s the only one I have left is replaced with He’s the only one that makes me feel like this so easily. Lightheaded and aching for his company, his attention, whatever else Sam will spare him.

Instead of agreeing with him like his brain is telling him, though, his pride kicks in and circles back on The shield is yours, Sam. You fucking perfect asshole.

And Bucky’s not gonna take the shield, it’s bullshit. The other man knows it’s bullshit, and the look they share is a silent agreement that it’s bullshit.

Mysteriously, the cockroach owning the plane disappears to the bathroom, or whatever.

Maybe he’ll put his hand on Sam’s shoulder now. That would be meaningful. Would prove to the man that he cares, and he knows that Bucky cares about Isaiah, and the shield, and the mission, but he doesn’t fucking know that he cares about him.

But once again, his stomach drops and he keeps his hand to himself. Stupid.

It’s when the other man leaves his space and opts for leaning against the window that he has time to wonder about Sam fully, and why he hesitated back there. They shouldn’t see each other again, but he hesitated.

Does he regret saying it? No, that’s crazy.

It’s for the best, Bucky figures. He supposes he shouldn’t mourn the loss before it’s even happened, but it already seems like he’s reaching out in the darkness for Sam, who’s better than he’ll ever be, who deserves better than to drag him around like this, and it’s like he’s already gone.

Fuck, he really should talk with Dr. Raynor about that.

And the man he can’t stop looking at would probably have that concerned look on his face if he heard Bucky putting himself down like this again, out loud.

Sam wanted to talk to you that nagging voice tells him, for the millionth time. Why didn’t you let him?

He can’t figure out what he would’ve said if he could go back and change it. Stay completely silent? That would annoy Sam. Take that love confession by the horns? Sam would let him down in the nicest, most gentle way ever, he’s sure.

That wouldn’t hurt that much, but his chest always gets a little tighter when he lies like that. It would hurt endlessly more.

Bucky does come back to reality, eventually, when a door clicks shut and Zemo’s talking to his friend (servant? pilot? who gives a shit), and his co-worker's breathing has evened out.

It’s probably more than a little creepy to watch him sleeping. Hm. But peace rests over him and it, somehow, stretches its wings towards himself as well, regardless of Sam’s position with his neck and half laying on his arm that doesn’t look comfortable in any shape or form.

“Jeg ville følge dig til verdens ende,” Bucky says. It’s barely a whisper to himself, to shut up his head crying out loud of possibilities, because what if Sam wanted him to stay? What if in some miraculous alternative universe, he felt the same way? It’s a daydream, is what it is, “hvis du bare ville give mig lov.”

…

He clenches his fist, unclenches, clenches.

Sam seems worried. Bucky can’t see him, since he’s turned his back towards him and faces the window while gaining the feeling back in that vibranium arm of his, but it radiates off of him.

Maybe he does need the space his co-worker’s giving him. Or maybe he just needs a drink and a hug and a chance to sleep. Who knows?

He hasn’t hugged anyone since reuniting with Steve. Well, unless you count Sam saving him as a hug, which he doesn’t.

It’s when he turns around again that the other man is, first of all, a lot closer than he expected him to be, secondly, giving him a small, tense smile. But it doesn’t look uncomfortable, in fact, the effect is exactly the opposite, and Bucky can’t help but return it, gratefully.

He doesn’t think too much about this smile not being forced, like the ones he’s gotten used to doing in public. Sam doesn’t need to know that.

Bucky also is, for once, two steps ahead of his co-worker, answering the question he doesn’t have time to ask, “I’m fine.”

Not easily fooled, he knows the man watching him from the couch looks wary, but Sam’s probably too shocked by the fight and Zemo’s escape to argue. He himself knows he is, which doesn’t help his guilt. But what point is there in guilt anymore? It’s not like he can un-let him out of prison.

He sits down with reasonable space between them. Significantly further away from each other than back in Sharon’s flat, not close enough to touch.

Truth be told, Bucky’s still processing it. Zemo’s escape, he accepted that easily, and it’s probably the least surprising thing he’s experienced in a while. When Ayo removed his prosthetic, that was something else.

And his friend left without another word. What could she have said that made the case anymore clear, really?

They don’t trust him, and despite the overshadowing thought of No one trusts me, Nothing’s changed, Not even myself, it’s hard to blame Shuri, or T’Challa. They saved his mind, saved his life, and he’ll be in debt to them until his grave.

Bucky understands them, he does. He does. He wouldn’t trust himself.

But a little sliver of his stomach still wrings itself inside out of… betrayal? He doesn’t know if that’s the right word, but it’s sufficient for now. Of not being told. Of not knowing everything there was to know about this thing that was a part of his body now. Still feels partially alien, a separate entity altogether.

But there’s no anger to be found. Instead, he lets his attention fall upon Sam. As always, “Are you okay, though?”

The shorter man furrows his brows. Smile’s still intact. “Depends on your definition of okay.”

Of course, he makes another bloody joke, at a time like this. Bucky snorts, and his co-worker looks all too pleased to have it succeed.

Sam glances back, seems like he’s seriously considering the thought of a drink that Bucky’s too exhausted to fulfill, but apparently decides against it, “I didn’t know you were so sentimental, Buck.”

“Can you shut your face?”

Why does it feel exceptionally good to laugh when Sam laughs? Doesn’t surprise him, the feeling he supposes are metaphorical butterflies in his gut doesn’t, either.

The other man’s keeping his eyes in his lap again, picking at the skin around his fingernails and, for the first time ever in the time he’s known him, looks nervous. It’s strange, but so endearing, and he’s so, so pretty.

Funny, that word endearing, Sam’s strong arms could wrap around him as easily as they could take several people out if he wished, which- okay, don’t think about that right now. The imaginary sensation of the other man’s skin against his and Bucky’s face buried in the crook of his neck, that is.

He feels lighter. Sam always knows what’s needed after a shared experience like this. Does he know him too well?

What Bucky does know is that the other man stands up, and instead of heading towards the door, he passes him on the way to pick up their jackets. A hand on his shoulder again. Gracing it more than a steady grip, but still.

He doesn’t stay for long, but his fingers glide down his arm a bit. The touch is the softest thing possible, ghosting over him like Sam doesn’t want him to notice.

But he does. A shiver runs down his spine.

It’s so faint that it disappears as unexpectedly as it comes, and his co-worker’s already at the other side of the room when he finally gains the courage to raise his chin.

Sam’s attention is taken by his cellphone, so Bucky decides to speak, “I don’t blame you, ya know.”

A beat before he notices, snaps the phone shut, tightens the hold on his jacket just a smidge, “For what?”

“The shield.”

“I thought you did.” he replies, because yeah, that’s what he said literally minutes ago. He doesn’t look offended, though. Good.

When Bucky can’t find the sufficient words, he nods. Licks his lips. Then tries something, “I’m an asshole, I know.” and grimaces at himself, “I’m too stubborn. I’ve been listening- I listened to you. I put all this shit on you… I’m trying to apologise.”

The other man smiles again, not tense anymore. Not gripping the jacket like it’s lifeline anymore, either. He slips it on instead.

He just wants Sam to know, so badly, that he cares. This is a start. “Sorry. I can’t believe my apologies suck, too.”

The silence is calm, it’s maybe ten, fifteen seconds tops. Just enough time for his insides to freak out before the shorter man hands him his own jacket, and then offers him a hand to pull him up. Act cool. Act fucking cool, Bucky.

He also wishes he could cling to Sam forever, but that would be the direct opposite of cool.

“It doesn’t,” he tells him, like it’s the most obvious thing in the world, pats his arm a couple of times to get the message across, he guesses, “Thank you. And thank you for having my back. You know, I think this communication thing could work, if we really tried.”

Stop being so ridiculous. Stop being so fucking dreamy. Seriously.

Bucky doesn’t roll his eyes, and if he looks lovestruck right now (he’s fairly sure he does), he’ll just have to feign ignorance later if the other man notices. This feels… yeah, you guessed it, good. Tingling in his chest a little. A lot.

He doesn’t even care that the man in front of him reaches for his phone when it rings, controlling his neutral tone of voice when he says, “Tak fordi du stolede på mig.”

Bucky’s fairly certain the words go unnoticed when he puts on his jacket, but of course, Sam covers the microphone and reaches him with a promise, “One day I’ll figure out what it is you’re whispering to yourself about.”

…

On the water, the 2am darkness enveloping him and reminding him just how alone he is, Bucky has time to think.

Mere days ago, the government’s very own Captain America murdered one of the members of the Flag Smashers, and in an eerie and familiar haze, all he and Sam could do was watch. So did Karli. So did numerous regular citizens with mobile phones.

And before Bucky could break and chase Walker down (because let’s face it, a government putting him in the suit? Bucky doesn’t trust those superiors for a second), his co-worker’s got a hold on his wrist and tells him he needs to go check on his sister.

When he follows along, Sam doesn’t complain.

Maybe, possibly, the other man even invited him. It’s not like he’s got anywhere else to be, and it seemed like, for once, Sam didn’t know what to do. A timeout is necessary, he said.

That’s an understatement.

Bucky just hopes that Karli and the rest of the Flag Smashers did the same and got the hell out of there. The shorter man’s got her number, so he suspects he told her so himself.

And Zemo? How the fuck is he supposed to know? The world’s gone to absolute shit, and they’re stuck in the middle in some kind of limbo.

Add Bucky’s unresolved feelings for his co-work- friend? Friend.

Surprisingly enough, Sam’s sister didn’t seem particularly surprised that her brother brought someone along.

Sarah’s a heaven sent. She smiled brightly and hugged him with one arm like they’ve known each other for years, juggling things out of crates on the harbour like it’s nothing. Witty, albeit a tad more serious than Sam, and she doesn’t take his shit for a second.

Her sons were more overwhelming, but Bucky’s not used to being around children, mind you.

They ran to him in excitement, speaking over each other, and he took a step back, because those creeping memories of the soldier and the fear of hurting someone again is rooted too deep to disappear.

Sam patted his back, though. It’s fine. You’re fine.

The boys also couldn’t take their eyes off his left arm and convinced him to lift them both when they bet he couldn’t. They surely know how to drive a bargain.

It’s funny, how much they liked that thing. Makes him think he could get used to the extension himself, eventually.

Sam’s family is so… normal. They’re warm and excited and hard-working and hilarious. He likes the way the other man looks around here, even more bright than usual, domestic and bantering with his sister for a living. They remind him of his own family. He won’t think about that.

But it’s the third night he spends in their home, after another one of the best dinners he’s ever had in his long life, amusing the boys with superhero stories until they’re exhausted and sent to bed, that Bucky wakes up in a cold sweat on the couch.

There you are, nightmares. It’s been a while.

It’s not surprising, of course, but he’s been avoiding sleep until the point of passing out, lately.

And Bucky didn’t know where to go. He didn’t want to rummage around in the kitchen he’s been too kindly invited to for alcohol, which they most likely didn’t have lying around anyways, as well as risk waking any of the family sleeping blissfully unaware.

But he also couldn’t stay, he was itching to move.

So, here he is. He found his way back to the harbour, and Sam’s family boat, not even dressed in more than his t-shirt, banged up jeans and boots, but the cold is a welcome distraction.

Would be good if he had a bottle of whiskey too, but whatever.

It’s times like this he’d rage inward on himself. Curse his head, curse his feelings. Curse his fucking decisions and stubbornness. Curse Walker and Zemo and Hydra. Curse the shield and curse Steve.

Yeah, it’s too much. He really should let Dr. Raynor in on this, if he gets a chance to go back to his regular sessions, that is.

The staggering quiet almost invites him to yell some of that rage out loud. Until, “Thought you might be here.”

Bucky would’ve sprung up and grabbed whatever could be used as a weapon nearest, if he didn’t immediately notice the tenderness in Sam’s voice, noticeably hoarse. He doesn’t know what to answer, but the other man sits down across from him, looking exceptionally soft.

You’re a goner, Bucky Barnes.

The silence between them is nowhere near awkward, but he feels like breaking it regardless. “Sorry I woke you.”

Sam huffs, and he imagines he’s rolling his eyes, “You didn’t.”

Hm. He scratches his neck and his chin. The cold is suddenly becoming a problem, so he wraps his arms loosely around himself. The other man’s doing the same, despite wearing a sweater.

“Nightmare?” he asks, eventually. Bucky nods.

“Yeah. You?”

“Yeah.”

Is this the end of the conversation? God, he has no idea how to continue, anyways.

He’d ask about it. Ask Sam what he’s seeing behind his eyelids at night, and if it invokes the exact same kind of pain he feels himself. Ask him about the Air Force and how his world changed and came crashing down. Ask him about Riley, who he only knows by name and a single photo.

Bucky can’t get the words over his tongue. Instead, he just wonders why he’s here in the first place, why Sam’s still sticking around with him and why he was allowed into his life.

Well, he followed him first. But he doesn’t feel like he deserves the peace he’s been given the last few days, or Sam’s nephews looking at him with wide eyes and zero judgement. Sam looking at him with zero judgement. Fuck.

He clears his throat, “Do you wanna talk about it?”

He’s adjusted his eyes to the darkness now, and there goes the shorter man looking at him, not intensely but just… looking, the way that makes Bucky’s stomach jump in loops and urge him to stand up and kiss him already.

Sam shakes his head, smile timid but sure, “Another time. I’ll let you know.”

Oh boy, does he know that feeling. They’ll talk about it, eventually. He’s not ready himself, but one day he will be. He hopes so. “Me too.”

The boat’s swaying subtly, a sliver of moonlight is touching Sam’s hand on the railing and Bucky thinks he might fall into an non-existent black hole.

On the contrary, the other man is slightly shivering from the ocean wind. He shouldn’t think about what it’s like to hold him. They’re friends now. Friends. Friends.

Still doesn’t stop him from sealing the deal to himself, “Jeg elsker dig.”

Like he hasn’t known all this time. Since that day they reunited, since before. Bucky’s painfully in love with someone he’ll never have the courage to tell, openly and upfront, anyways. Maybe he’ll get over it.

It does take him a few minutes before he notices Sam’s soft smile, worn like his heart on his sleeve, second nature and drawing everyone in with ease, turning into a shirt-eating grin.

Weird. Whatever. Wait-

“Really?” he asks him.

Oh my God. Oh no. Oh fuck.

Bucky’s eyes must widen to the size of fucking teacups. He’s never been this eager to get up and move out of a situation before till now, “Sorry?”

Sam notices his unease before he even finds it himself, “Bucky.”

“Oh my God.”

“Bucky-”

“I have to go.”

Doesn’t get very far. Five inches maybe, before the shorter man stops him in motion. Bucky could easily shake his hand off, but he doesn’t, of course he doesn’t. Sam gets under his skin every time.

His thumb caresses his wrist, “I want you to stay. Can you stay?”

Fucking fuck. Bucky gulps the embarrassment down and relaxes his stiff shoulders. Or tries to, at least. His ears are ringing.

“Will you look at me?” Sam then asks, and how could he refuse anything from that man?

Takes some courage, of course, but he has to. Take the rejection already. Come on. But when he turns around his friend doesn’t seem disgusted, or disappointed, like he fully expected him to.

“Stop looking at me like that.” he finds himself saying, before he can shut his stupid mouth up. And Sam looks absolutely desperate, “Like what?”

“Like I mean something to you.”

Kiss me. I wish you would kiss me. Sam’s perfectly formed lips are still in a smile, not small, not a grin. But just right. And then a hand is touching Bucky’s cheek.

“That’s the thing, you idiot.” the shorter man tells him, “I can’t exactly stop it. But if you want me to-”

“Have you known all along?” he interrupts with. Feels like laughing at himself. God, that would be beyond ridiculous, wouldn’t it? Saying everything on his mind, not knowing his friend heard every word of it. Secret’s out.

There’s another hand finding its way to his face, “I didn’t. Google helped me- uh, after Madripoor. Took me a few tries with the spelling before it gave me a clue. And, well…”

“My pronunciation is pretty sloppy.” Bucky’s circling around what’s happening. Why is he doing this? Because it’s too good to be true, probably. Please don’t be a dream.

Embarrassing, then… then the warmth against his cheeks. Then the impossibly soft and meaningful eyes not escaping Bucky’s for anything. Then his heart beating too fast, like it’s going to crawl up his throat and escape his vessel.

Sam shakes his head with a laugh. Heartily, caring, “Do you mean what you said? You love me?” to which Bucky laughs himself.

“Yeah,” he feels weak in the vocal chords, but gets it out, because he has to, “‘Course I fucking do. Is that okay?”

“It’s more than okay.”

And there, on Sam’s family boat in the middle of the night, wind rushing behind his ears and his breathing too loud like everything isn’t quite real, Bucky smiles like his life depends on it. Because the man in front of him deserves to know. He needs him to know. And fuck the world. “Will you kiss me now?”

Sam’s smile is so fucking pretty, it’s the best thing he’s ever seen. He looks at him like he’s special, and he feels it. Feels everything deeper and deeper, “I thought you’d never ask.”

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