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cinnaminsvga · 4 years

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a love that endures | Yoongi

→ summary:

“Oh come on! Just go say hi to him already,” Seokjin huffs. He wiggles his eyebrows, striking you with the urge to shave them off in retaliation. “I could feel your ‘God, I miss his dick’ vibes from across the room!”

“I do not emit dick thirst vibes,” you respond hotly, swatting him in the tit. You pause, considering. “Wait, but do you think he misses my p—”

“Say no more,” Seokjin interrupts, a wicked smirk gracing his lips. His gaze is fixed somewhere behind you, but you have a sinking suspicion you know why he looks like he’s won the lottery. “Speaking of the devil, look who’s coming over to say hello!”

{or alternatively: Yoongi and Y/N. Y/N and Yoongi. High school sweethearts that were never meant to last, until a reunion ten years later manages to reignite a flame that never quite burnt out.}

→ genre: high school reunion!au, exes to lovers, fluff, humor, minor angst → warnings: shy!yoongi and shy!oc live rent free in my brain, mutual pining is poggers, hoseok and seokjin aren’t evil for once in a cinnaminsvga fic, implied smut so it’s pg-13 because i’m a wimp → words: 14.4K → a/n: SHE’S ALIVE!! this is dedicated to @himbeaux-joon who commissioned this piece ages ago. thank you again for requesting this because this was honestly so much fun to write. i’ve been in a bit of writing slump these past few weeks but this fic came out so easily and got way longer than expected (perhaps because it’s about yoongi and he’s always been the easiest one to write for me). enjoy!! ;o;

The mere sight of him is enough to knock the wind out of you.

Your body freezes, the hand curled around your paper cup filled with punch tightening ever so slightly. It isn’t like you’re surprised that he came; you aren’t supposed to be. Of course, you should have expected his arrival, but you’ve been hoping all night that he might have been too busy to attend.

He isn’t even on time—it has almost been two hours since the event started and you had been filled with a false hope that perhaps he had RSVP’d and decided he couldn’t make it.

You had seen Hoseok, his best friend from your younger days, standing outside the entrance of the ballroom before they had started letting people in. The moment Hoseok saw you, he immediately came over to sweep you into a tight hug, his infectious laughter ringing in your ears. He had greeted you happily, expressing how much he missed you since high school, but never once bringing up the elephant in the room.

It wasn’t like you were going to bring him up first. No, that would be weird on your part. Nevermind the fact that going to high school reunions was a recipe for reliving past traumas and seeing all your childhood friends either married or pregnant—you weren’t going to be that person who asked where their ex was. You refused to be the person craning their neck to spy on the entrance every two minutes, hoping to catch sight of an old familiar face.

The problem is that you are that person, and you kind of hate yourself for it. However, it is also the reason why you are probably the only person in the entire ballroom who notices his quiet arrival.

He has never liked causing commotions, which is often apparent from the way he conducts himself. He walks into the room just as a loud round of applause breaks out; an old schoolmate of yours is walking up to the podium, probably the person who had arranged the get-together in the first place. It is a perfect distraction for him as he slinks past the door, keeping near the wall so as not to be seen by anyone just yet.

(Except he has been seen—he just doesn’t know it yet.)

You do not know for how long you stare at him, just that it takes you a moment to realize you haven’t taken a breath since he stepped foot into the same space as you. You take a deep, shuddering breath, forcing your racing heartbeat to calm down. You swallow thickly, throat so unbearably dry that even drinking from your lukewarm cup of punch doesn’t seem to do anything.

But the undeniable truth is there, standing only a few meters away from you, and nothing on earth will be able to wash away the nerves flooding through your system.

After ten years of radio silence, Min Yoongi is in your orbit once again.

In the grand scheme of things, ten years wasn’t all that long. Four years in university had passed by in a blur, and the absolute chaos that ensued right after you graduated as you scrambled to secure a job and move out of your hometown had made the days seem shorter than they actually were. You had not even noticed that time was passing until you found that cream envelope waiting for you one day after work, your alma mater’s school crest painfully recognizable even after all these years.

During all that time, the world around you shifted without you noticing, and that meant people were changing too.

Yoongi is 28 now. And so are you, after many months of denial. You have not seen each other since you were both 18—both of you far too young to know about any of the things you would experience in the next ten years.

He might have grown a little taller since then, something you are sure that your brother will find amusing. His hair isn’t dyed like you remembered, as he has opted to keep it his natural dark black that you have not seen since you were both in middle school. It’s styled differently too: combed over and gelled back, with his bangs pushed back and his forehead exposed. When he turns his head to the side, a gasp spills past your lips before you can stop it.

“Is that a fucking undercut?” you mutter in shock, your eyes straining out of their sockets as you try to drink him in. Even under the dim lighting of the ballroom, his new haircut is hard to miss. No one else seems to be undergoing the same mental collapse as you, judging by how everyone’s attention is still fixated on the person speaking at the podium. How the hell is no one else losing their fucking minds to the sight of Min Yoongi with a fucking undercut? Some questions are impossible to answer, you surmise.

When you decided to attend the reunion, you had not once thought about how Yoongi would look like. Somehow, you had developed this stagnant picture of him in your head, even after all these years. To you, he will always be the boy with the stark blonde hair, the mismatched eyelids, the pouty lips, the dumpling cheeks. He is the boy who can’t wear his own contact lenses to save his life, the boy who sometimes wears his favorite leather jacket to sleep, the boy who only drinks Americanos like it was water.

Gone are those days, you realize. That image of him has been smashed to pieces, instead replaced by this dashing (and incredibly hot) man—a stranger. A stranger with unbleached (and healthy) hair, a jawline sharp enough to cut glass. He has his glasses kept away, and there is no leather jacket in sight.

But you can see him, if you look hard enough. The same spark in his eye, the same curve of his lips. You catch him smiling for a second, and his cheeks still puff up like dough. Maybe it’s just hopeless thinking, but you see him. It’s still him. To you, he will always be your 18-year-old Min Yoongi, the one who would greet you with a sweet kiss on the forehead every time you would—

Raucous applause breaks you from your train of thought, and you blink rapidly in surprise. You have to forcibly pull yourself out of your Yoongi-induced trance, clapping alongside everyone without really knowing what was going on. All of the extra noise sounds like buzzing in your ears, especially when it is drowned out by the roar of your blood rushing to your head all at once.

“Once again, I’d like to thank you all for coming tonight. We will begin the program right after dinner, so please feel free to help yourselves to the buffet! Cheers everyone!” You faintly hear your old schoolmate speak, before her voice is quickly overrun by the commotion of people walking over to the extravagant display of food. It takes a moment for the crowd of heads to disperse, so when you can finally look back to where you last saw Yoongi, he is no longer alone.

Hoseok has his arm slung around Yoongi, his infectious laughter loud enough to be heard over clinking plates and silverware. The two are as different as night and day, with Hoseok practically bouncing from excitement and Yoongi rolling his eyes from annoyance. But it is easy to see that his pout is nothing but a ruse; you can already catch the beginnings of a smile tugging at his lips.

You feel your own seams breaking, unwittingly sporting a grin of your own. It is nice to know that Yoongi hasn’t been alone all this time, that he still seems close with his old best friend. You cannot count the number of friendships that you have lost over time, and you still grieve many of them during your quiet moments. Alas, it was often never even anyone’s fault, the strains of adulthood often being the biggest deal breakers in your relationships.

That is, of course, except for one.

“Enjoying yourself? I didn’t think we’d share the same voyeuristic tendencies,” says a voice, creeping up behind you. Now, normal people would not usually expect other sane people to invade your personal space and breathe directly into your ear, but that’s just your humble opinion. What you do know is that one certain individual enjoys breaking the mold when it comes to societal norms, and it is none other than…

“Jesus fucking Christ!” You shriek, nearly sucker-punching the offending degenerate in the face. You hold back your fist from connecting with his face, but your resulting irritation remains. Whether that irritation is because you regret holding back or not will unfortunately also have to remain unanswered. “Oh God, it’s you.”

“Oh, no need for that. Most people usually call me Seokjin,” he snickers, thoroughly enjoying your flushed face. Kim Seokjin pats you on the shoulder, his trademark “pretty boy” smile still as radiant as you remembered. It does nothing to quell your urge to raise your fists again, however. “Hello, Y/N. Fancy seeing you here!”

“The feeling is not mutual,” you snort. Much like how Yoongi was with Hoseok, your derision is nothing but a rouse. As much as you want to kick Seokjin in the nuts, you also cannot ignore how much you want to hug him the slimy bastard—but you definitely will not be the first one to admit it. So like the tsundere that you are, you decide to insult him instead. “Why are you here? You’re not even from this class. Don’t you have other things to do? Or rather, people to do?”

“My heart! You wound me,” he gasps, grasping his chest as though he’d been shot. “How could you say that to your best friend in the entire world? Don’t you know how much I missed you?”

“Easy. I do it because the only other alternative would lead me straight to prison,” you shrug, but your grin betrays you.

This time, you don’t jolt away when he closes in for a hug. “And I guess I miss you too,” you say, your words slightly muffled into his chest. Like always, he sees through your prickly act because as much as you like to pretend, Kim Seokjin is kind of amazing—loose bolts and all.

“It’s nice to know that your tongue hasn’t lost its edge, though I suppose I wouldn’t be intimately knowledgeable in that area. After all, I still am very much a raging homosexual and pussy isn’t really my forte,” Seokjin guffaws, his volume causing a few nearby guests to raise their heads in alarm.

You bow at them, sheepishly apologizing on his behalf before grabbing him by the collar.

“Will you stop being embarrassing for just one second? I swear, I thought I retired from my babysitting job when I graduated high school,” you hiss, but the way his mouth curls up with mischief is answer enough. God, you missed this son of a bitch.

“Unfortunately for you, being a pest is part of my DNA,” he smirks, carefully plucking your hands off from his neck, as though your nails were not mere inches away from ripping his trachea into pieces. “Though, I am offended by your assumption that I am still the same slut that you knew. I’ve grown up a little, you know! I’m a changed man!”

“Oh, please. Don’t tell me you of all people have settled down,” you laugh, not missing the way Seokjin’s perfectly stenciled brow raises slightly.

“I know we haven’t seen each other since Christmas, but come on Y/N! You of all people should be applauding me for my improved behavior! You must have noticed how much I changed when I visited.”

“When you visited me last Christmas, you immediately insulted my taste in kitchen towels, went on Grindr to find a hookup despite my numerous pleas, and promptly desecrated my guest bedroom that no housekeeper or priest is willing to exorcise to this day,” you gag, shuddering at the memory. “And then you ate all my ice cream and proceeded to clog my toilet!”

“Um? Aren’t you forgetting that I also bought you that dress you wanted? Rude,” Seokjin retorts, not the least bit remorseful. “Well, that’s what you get for agreeing to be my best bitch for life. You know that I take pinky promises very seriously.”

Unfortunately, he does take his promises seriously. It is probably the only thing he’ll ever be serious about, as much as the man enjoys parading his depravity. “Okay, whatever. I’ll bite. Who’s the unlucky man you’ve managed to deceive into a relationship?”

“Oh, it’s someone we both used to know. I’m his plus one for tonight,” he says, supplying you with the most useless non-answer imaginable.

“Seokjin. We’re at a high school reunion. We know everyone here. That could be anyone!” you exclaim.

“Well, isn’t that fun? Then we can do a scavenger hunt!” Seokjin grins, clapping his hands together excitedly. He pulls you in front of him, forcing the two of you to survey the crowd. “Okay, hold your arm out like this—” After a few seconds of you failing to resist him, he manages to get you to unfurl your finger as if you were about to order something from the dollar menu at McDonalds. Unfortunately for you, the tall twink is stronger than he appears. “—and just keep pointing around until I tell you that you’re getting warmer!”

“Seokjin, I don’t think this is very—” you start, but Seokjin is already moving your arm for you. Like a hurricane, Kim Seokjin listens to no one but his own homewrecking whims.

“Park Chanyeol? Close, but not really. You should know that I don’t double dip with past flings,” he says, shifting you to the left. “Kim Namjoon? Now that’s a hunk of meat that I wish I’d taken a bite of, but unfortunately he’s as straight as a ruler. Pass,” he hums, continuing to move you bit by bit.

You’re both getting uncomfortably close to where Yoongi is, and Seokjin doesn’t appear to be stopping any time soon. You did notice that Yoongi had come dateless to the reunion (a fact, by the way, that you did not rejoice over when you had noticed), but that doesn’t necessarily mean he’s single. You have known Seokjin for more than a decade at this point, and despite your odd friendship, you are sure that he would never do anything to hurt you on purpose.

Though, that does beg the question… How far does his dick thirst really go? Maybe you’ll finally find out today.

“Warmer, getting warmer…” Seokjin inches you closer and closer to where Yoongi is standing. You feel frozen in his grasp, unsure if you wanted to know anymore. If Seokjin really is dating Yoongi, then what? It’s not like you were dating him anyway… What difference does it make if it’s Seokjin?

(It makes all the difference, but you refuse to think about it.)

“Nope, not Wonho... A little bit to the left… Bingo!” Seokjin declares, stopping your finger right on— “No, Y/N! Stop moving! You’ve gone too far to the wall! I was pointing at him.”

“H-Hoseok? You’re dating Hoseok?!” You squeak, an avalanche of relief flooding through you. You don’t even have the energy to pretend to be composed as your entire body starts untensing involuntarily, your shoulders slumping as though a weight has been lifted from you. “Why couldn’t you have just told me like a normal person? Why must everything be tortuous and dramatic when it comes to you?”

“I am a naturally insufferable and theatrical person. Sue me,” he shrugs, greatly enjoying the exhausted look on your face. “What? Were you actually scared that I was dating your sloppy seconds? What do you think I am? An asshole?”

You stare at him. “Is that a rhetorical question?”

Seokjin scoffs. “If I wanted to get roasted, I would approach two tops at a gay bar.” He pauses. “Wait, are you seriously not going to congratulate me for finally snagging a boy who has a functioning moral compass?”

“Define ‘snagging.’ Did you, like, tie him up and blackmail him to become your boyfriend like those terrible One Direction Wattpad fanfics, or—” You stop halfway, giggling at your friend’s unamused pout. “Okay, okay. Yes, Seokjin. I am very proud of you. Congrats on finally becoming an adult. Your hoe days are over.”

“Who said they were over?” He snorts. Noticing your alarm, Seokjin rolls his eyes in exasperation. “Oh, don’t give me that look! I’m not into infidelity and you know that. I just meant that I’m still a hoe with significantly fewer options.”

“How did that even happen in the first place?” you say, jabbing your thumb in Hoseok’s direction. Thankfully, the man in question is still busy talking to Yoongi, though you don’t know for how much longer. If Seokjin isn’t lying, then there’s a high chance they’re going to walk over to say hi and you’re not sure if you’re mentally prepared to go through the five stages of grief all over again.

“Believe me, I’m surprised as well. I started dating Hoseok after he asked me for help with his sister’s wedding gift. He asked me to help arrange an itinerary for her sister’s honeymoon in America,” Seokjin explains with a dreamy smile. He sighs, holding a hand up to his chest. You can physically see the heart emojis circling his head like a halo. “We hit it off from there and dare I say… Not only is he the only person who can keep up with my high maintenance lifestyle, but dear Lord, he could totally be recruited into the NDA for his astounding dick game—”

“Ever heard of TMI? Gross,” you interrupt, your face crumpling in disgust. You shove him away when his loud cackles start rattling your eardrums.

“You were scared though, right?” he says through his giggles. “When you thought that I was dating Yoongi?”

Of course Seokjin had noticed your mini-mental breakdown, judging from the shit-eating grin on his face.

“N-no,” you stutter, but your heated cheeks and averted gaze give you away. “E-either way, I wouldn’t have cared if you did!” you say. You know, like a liar.

“I bet you don’t care that Yoongi got significantly hotter in the past ten years too, huh?” Seokjin teases, snickering loudly. Under the harsh lighting of the fluorescent chandelier lights, you might have mistaken the boy in front of you for the devil instead of your best friend of almost twenty years.

“I sincerely rue the day I introduced myself to you in the third grade,” you hiss, sipping from your cup to hide your humiliation.

“Aww, you’re so cute when you’re all embarrassed,” Seokjin coos, pinching your cheeks with the gentleness of an ape. You slap his hand away, unable to think of any retort.

“Cat got your tongue? You didn’t even deny it when I accused you,” Seokjin laughs. He claps his hands jovially, acting as though he’s enjoying a show at the circus. Given your performance tonight, that statement isn’t all that far from reality.

“I don’t need to defend myself from you,” you say, puffing your cheeks indignantly. “I just… think he looks handsome. Is that illegal or something?”

“Certainly not. Though, you might want to dial down the pining a teensy bit,” he singsongs. “That’s how I found you in the first place. I sensed your pining from a mile away and came as soon as I could!”

“I wasn’t pining!” you exclaim. “I was just… admiring the plant beside him.”

“Right, sure,” Seokjin says, arching an eyebrow in challenge. You feel your hackles rising at his smug expression, your ‘Seokjin-is-about-to-ruin-your-life’ alarm ringing in your ears. “So, you wouldn’t mind if I brought you over there to say hello? After all, my boyfriend is over there and as much as I enjoy pestering you, I also want to be with him very much.”

You whistle lowly, impressed. “Wow, that’s actually kind of sweet of you.”

“Yes, I know. Kim Seokjin’s heart grew three sizes that day, yada yada yada.” Seokjin says sarcastically, but his lovesick smile ruins the effect. When he opens his mouth once more, the mirage instantly disappears. “But you would understand if you saw how much he’s packing—”

“Shut up, I didn’t ask—”

“Fine, then let’s ask the man himself! Besides, you know you’re being ridiculous, right?” Seokjin tuts, annoyed. He fixes you with a glare, making you feel like a scolded child. “It’s just Yoongi. You and I both know he doesn’t have a mean bone in his body and probably would love to see you after so long.”

You wave your hands around helplessly, almost sloshing your drink onto a nearby bystander. After muttering a meek apology at your harried classmate, you turn back to Seokjin with a defeated sigh.

You know that he’s right, and you absolutely hate him for it. “Jinnie, I’m a mess! I can hardly think with Yoongi standing meters away from me, much less if he were to stand right in front of me! I’m just going to embarrass myself,” you lament, holding your head in your hand.

“That’s true. You will definitely embarrass yourself,” Seokjin hums, nodding sagely. He shrugs his shoulders. “All the more reason we should do it. Relax, I’ll be your wingman like old times! All we have to do is remind him of all the fantastic, mind-blowing coitus you had in your youth and he’ll be a goner for sure.”

“If by goner, you mean he’ll be gone from my life permanently this time, then you’re right,” you groan. You have a half a mind to dump the remainder of your disgusting punch all over his expensive Bottega Veneta coat, though you also don’t want to spend the next three months receiving packaged turds from Seokjin in your mailbox. “Please, just let me suffer in silence for the remainder of the night, okay? Is that really too much to ask?”

“I do not emit dick thirst vibes,” you respond hotly, swatting him in the tit. You pause, considering. “Wait, but do you think he misses my p—”

Swiveling around, you see that your intuition is right: Yoongi and Hoseok are swiftly making their way through the crowd, one of them appearing to be more enthusiastic than the other. You swallow thickly, your palms growing damp as they get closer to where the two of you stand.

"Seokjin, we gotta go!" you hiss, but your panic goes largely ignored as your best friend leaves you to envelop his lover in a dramatic embrace.

The two men exchange teary and heartfelt touches, acting as if they had been separated by years of war instead of the meager minutes they had spent apart to greet their long-time friends.

"My honeybunch! Oh, how I've missed you so much!" Seokjin cries, nuzzling his nose into Hoseok's neck. You might have mistaken him for a vampire with how aggressively he sniffs Hoseok's skin. Had Seokjin been 5% more unhinged, you do not doubt that he might have started suckling on his boyfriend like a leech.

"Oh, hyung. It's barely been an hour, but why does it feel like it has been forever?" Hoseok sighs forlornly, jaw clenching as though he's in pain. He croaks out a sob, lifting Seokjin in the air and spinning him around. "My love, let us never part again!"

You take a few steps away from them, trying to make it apparent to all the bewildered onlookers that you have nothing to do with homosexual Tweedledee and Tweedledum.

"What kind of shitty production is this? I want my money back," you murmur, fake-gagging behind the two of them. The lovesick fools pay no mind to your disgust; in fact, they seem to relish in it. Their efforts double, their theatrical kissy-smoochy sound effects causing goosebumps to form on your arms. "Seriously, I've had enough of this and I've only been forced to witness it for two seconds."

"Tell me about it," says a voice to your left. Startled, you nearly let out a shocked gasp when you realize that Yoongi had found his way by your side, his own disgusted gaze fixed on the bumbling buffoons still lost in their world. He glances at you for a second, quirking his lips into a small smile. "Hey, Y/N."

In just six words, Min Yoongi manages to make time grind to a halt. You gape at him, your brain ceasing in function. It takes you a full minute to realize that the man standing beside you is not a figment of your imagination. You had been so caught up in the absurdity of the situation that for a moment you had forgotten that Yoongi is a real person.

It's Yoongi, your first love. The person you haven't seen or spoken to in years. The man who has haunted your dreams for over a decade. He's standing right beside you, and he's smiling at you. He's here, he's hot, and he's saying hello.

Like the incredibly eloquent and profound person that you are, you reply: "Yellow!"

You had meant to say "Yoongi, hello!" like a normal person, but your brain had amalgamated your words during its rebooting process. And so, you are left standing there silently, frozen by your embarrassment. You swear you can hear a pin drop as you beg for the earth to swallow you whole.

Unfortunately for you, the floor remains painfully tangible beneath your feet, forcing you to clear your throat and expound on your mystifying exclamation. Yoongi watches you with curious eyes, patiently waiting for you to speak.

"W-what I meant to say is, uh," you stammer, your cheeks heating up to an alarming degree. "Those yellow streamers are pretty tacky, don't you think?"

Nice one. In terms of comebacks, you would personally give yourself a C for effort. (Note: C stands for "Can I please shove a fist up my ass and crabwalk the fuck out of here?")

Yoongi contemplates the tacky decorations in question, nodding in agreement. "Yeah, I guess. They pretty much look like the stuff we'd make in elementary school during Arts and Crafts." He points to your mutual friends, grimacing in annoyance. "Them, on the other hand? No child should ever come into contact with those heathens."

"You're right," you snort, shaking your head.

There is a long and awkward pause. Yoongi clears his throat, swaying from side to side while staring at his shoes. You aren't any better, twiddling your thumbs as you will your cheeks to stop flushing. Your senses are practically screaming at you to run away and hide forever, but your limbs feel disjointed from the rest of you.

It's like we're at the zoo on a date and the monkeys won't stop fucking each other, your mind unhelpfully supplies, offering you an image that will permanently make its home on the backs of your eyelids.

Desperate to break the silence, eventually you say, "Hey, Yoongi—"

Right at the same time, Yoongi says, "Hey, Y/N—"

Another pause, but this one is slightly less tense. The two of you share a nervous laugh, though yours sounds a little bit more hysterical. You motion for him to speak first.

"I, uh... wanted to say that you look great. Yeah. Like, you haven't aged a day at all. N-not to say that I don't think you've matured or..." Yoongi stumbles over his words, his voice cracking.

Instead of feeling relieved that he's just as nervous as you, his anxiety only exacerbates your own. There's a reason you have never been good at public speaking, and this is a good example of why:

"No! I get what you mean, don't worry about it," you laugh, on the verge of a mental breakdown. What the fuck is this conversation, even? "You look exactly the same too. Umm... Of course, except for the, uh, hair?"

"Oh, you mean the gray hairs?"

"No, no! Of course not! I m-meant your hair looks really hot—I mean good! It looks GOOD," you repeat, frantically emphasizing the last bit. You had instinctively panicked, your voice rising in pitch. If your cheeks weren't flaming hot already, then they're definitely redder than Seokjin's ass after a Friday night of fun.

The apples of Yoongi's cheek match your own flustered state, though you can imagine that you’re probably at least a hundred times worse. “Well, thank you. I was actually feeling self-conscious about my hair, so hearing that from you is really… nice,” he says, brushing his hair shyly. “I’m kinda done with bright colored hair for now, so seeing my hair in its natural state is still kind of weird.”

“I seriously doubt that Y/N was talking about your hair color, Yoongi,” Hoseok interjects, magically reappearing behind you when you don’t notice. You flinch in surprise, causing him to let out a hearty chuckle at your jumpiness. It seems that today is “Let’s scare the living shit out of Y/N” day with how many people have crept up on you in just one night.

Beside him, Seokjin looks like a bomb ready to explode, his fist jammed up his mouth to keep his guffaws from slipping out. “God, this is even better than the cringe compilations I watch on Youtube,” he wheezes, wiping a stray tear.

“Don’t be so mean to them, hyung! Don’t mind him,” Hoseok says to you, bowing apologetically. He smiles cherubically at Yoongi. “See, Yoongi? I told you that Y/N is even hotter up close!”

“God, fucking kill me,” you hear Yoongi groan.

“So, have you guys caught up yet, or have you just been fumbling around each other like a couple of horny teenagers?” Seokjin snickers, narrowly avoiding your heel stomping his foot.

“We’ve only just said hello. Leave us alone, jackass,” you huff.

“Oh, you’d like that, wouldn’t you? Well, Hoseok and I can go on our merry ways if you wish—”

“Yoongi! Did you tell Y/N about your work back in Seoul? I bet she’d love to hear about it,” Hoseok interrupts smoothly, saving you from further embarrassment (courtesy of his infuriating goblin of a boyfriend.)

You blink in surprise, turning to the man in question. “You live in Seoul now? Did you move there after finishing university?” you ask.

“Well,” Yoongi starts, clearing his throat. He’s permanently pink at this point, not that you mind in the slightest. He always did have the cutest blush (and once upon a time, you used to love teasing him about it.) “I sort of dropped out of university early. Decided it wasn’t really my thing, you know?”

“Don’t sell yourself short, Yoongi. You were a fantastic student. I’m sure Y/N remembers how smart you are,” Hoseok says, winking inconspicuously at you.

You force out a laugh in response. You know perfectly well what he was trying to do; Hoseok isn’t slick in the slightest, though you do admit that you are intrigued to find out what Yoongi had done over the years.

It isn’t like you haven’t been keeping tabs on him. In your defense, it’s hard to stay away from news about Yoongi when he’s such a big deal. So what if you’ve watched a couple of his interviews and streamed all of his songs? He’s always been talented with music, and all the radio shows seem to agree. You couldn’t get away from him if you tried (and it’s not like you were trying very hard, anyway.)

Yoongi shrugs, rubbing his neck bashfully. “E-either way, I decided to tough it out, you know? Follow my dreams and all that, even if it nearly killed me.”

“And now, he’s working in a famous idol company as one of their head producers,” Hoseok finishes for him, chest puffing up in pride. He slaps his best friend on the back, not noticing that he had inadvertently caused Yoongi's spine to cave in from his strength. “Yoongi is so cool, and humble too! He’s been working behind the scenes for a bunch of big names and never got greedy for attention even though he totally deserves it.”

“Damn, so no street cred? Bit schewpid, innit? Imagine all the chicks you could’ve landed, bruv!” Seokjin says, imitating a terrible British accent. You make a move to hit him in the groin, but for once, Hoseok beats you to the punch.

“Nope! Yoongi-chi is super single, aren’t you?” Hoseok says with a sweet grin, ignoring the pained groans of his lover on the floor.

“No need to rub it in, Seok-ah,” Yoongi grumbles defensively. He coughs into his fist, grinding his foot into the floor. He throws a glance your way. “Just been… too busy, I guess.”

From the floor, Seokjin holds up a hand, grasping at Hoseok’s pant leg to hoist himself up. “What a coincidence. Y/N is super single too. In fact, her pussy is so dry that there’d be no chance for any yeast infections to develop—WAIT, DON’T HIT ME AGAIN I PROMISE I’LL BEHAVE!” Seokjin is on his knees, holding his arms up in surrender as Hoseok’s boot is about to connect with his stomach.

“I know I said I was into BDSM, but not like this!” Seokjin says, faking a sob.

“Then behave, darling,” Hoseok replies, eyes lighting dangerously. When he returns his attention to you, you and Yoongi back away instinctively. “Sorry about him. We have an… arrangement,” he says, waving his hands vaguely.

“Understood,” you both say, not understanding but also not wanting to.

Seokjin manages to straighten up eventually, his skin slightly paler than it was before. “A-as I was saying,” he exhales, still gingerly cupping his crotch. “Y/N has been single for so long, but I don’t blame her. Not after that awful disaster of a boyfriend, right? God, Sungjae fucking sucked ass, and not even in the sexy way.”

“Um, yeah…” you say hesitantly, avoiding eye contact. You can feel Hoseok’s and Yoongi’s eyes trained on you, but you’re not confident enough to know that you can keep your face neutral.

With your gaze averted, you don’t notice the way Yoongi’s posture tenses. “Is that so,” he says carefully.

“I’m sorry to hear that,” Hoseok says. You can hear the genuine sadness in his tone, and you chance a peek at him. He pats your shoulder gently, giving you a soft smile. “Honestly, I feel you. I’ve definitely been there, done that. That’s why I’m grateful for Seokjin-hyung, believe it or not. He’s been really good for me.”

“Hah, I told you I’m a good person!” Seokjin says. Again, he goes ignored.

“It’s fine. It’s all water under the bridge,” you say, shrugging. You can still feel Yoongi’s persistent gaze on the side of your head like a brand. You’re kind of afraid to see what sort of expression he has despite the curiosity burning inside of you.

You are still in the middle of debating if it’s worth explaining or not (and to a lesser extent, why you feel like you need to explain yourself to anyone), everyone’s attention is caught by the onslaught of waiters bringing in a fresh batch of food to the buffet. Your stomach growls in response, and you are reminded of the fact that you haven’t eaten since breakfast in preparation for tonight’s event.

“Hold that thought, Y/N,” Hoseok says, holding up a finger. “Hyung! I saw a platter of tuna belly and I know that shit is gonna disappear in two seconds. Let’s head out!” He tugs Seokjin in a hurry, the elder’s gangly legs flying about as he trips over himself to keep up. Seokjin yelps and hollers for him to slow down, but the hangry Hoseok train stops for no one. They run off, leaving Hoseok-and-Seokjin-shaped dust clouds in their wakes.

“Wow,” Yoongi says, dumbfounded. “Did we just get ditched by our two self-proclaimed best friends in the world?”

You nod, equally dumbfounded. “I guess we did.”

He shakes his head. “Fucking traitors.”

And just like that, the conversation dies.

Without your friends acting as buffers, the pair of you return to your painfully awkward states. You rack your brain for a conversation topic, anything to keep the tension at bay. You don’t feel nearly comfortable enough to ask him about his love life, even though you want nothing more than to shake the details right out of him. For perfectly sane reasons, of course.

Lucky for you, Yoongi thinks of a solution. “Um, I guess we should go grab our food as well? I’m assuming we’ll be sitting together since our friends are... you know. Unless you don’t want to, then that’s also perfectly fine with me. I can find somewhere else to sit.”

“I’d love to sit with you,” you say, cringing at your choice of words. Love to? What are you, desperate?! your brain screeches at you, and you mentally beat yourself in the coochie.

Deep down, you know that you’re overreacting, but you can’t help acting like a blushy teenager talking to your crush when you’re around Yoongi. It’s almost as if you’ve reverted to your high school days, back when you’d both started to notice your feelings for each other and the steady flow of butterflies erupting in your stomach had felt less like a burden and more like a revelation.

After tossing your disgusting drink into a nearby bin, you and Yoongi line up behind the rest of your classmates for the buffet, the scene reminiscent of having lunch at your old high school cafeteria. You’re still mildly distracted by Yoongi’s proximity, not looking at what food you were getting and randomly scooping and hoping you don’t dislike all of them.

From the corner of your eye, you notice that Yoongi’s plate is steadily piling up, probably with enough food to feed two people. You’ve never known Yoongi to be much of a heavy eater, but you suppose that free food is still free food at the end of the day.

“So,” Yoongi says after a beat. He pulls you from your trance, and you catch the small smile on his face that tells you that he figured you had been distracted. “How is Jungkook, by the way? He graduated from university a year ago or something, right?”

You pause, your hand stilling on the metal tongs. “How did you know he graduated last year?”

He shrugs. “Well, assuming that he didn’t take any gap years, I did the math and figured he should be at the age where he’s looking for a job.” He turns to you with a sly grin. “Plus, I’m still his friend on Facebook.”

“That’s surprising,” you comment. You backtrack a little, “And I mean it’s surprising in the sense that… All his posts are reshares from dank meme pages and I thought you wouldn’t be into that.”

Yoongi laughs. “I’m not. But… it’s nice to know how things are back home, I guess.”

Do you wonder about me, too? you think, but you internally shake your head. But why would he? He doesn’t owe you anything.

“And your dad? I heard he got hip surgery last fall,” Yoongi says.

“Wait, Jungkook has been posting about our dad’s surgery on his Facebook?”

“Oh! No, not exactly.” Yoongi clears his throat, suddenly nervous. He heaps a big portion of kimchi, some of it staining his sleeve. “I… called him a few days ago, to catch up.”

You’re staring at him, and you dimly register the people lined up behind you huffing impatiently. “You… called him? You have his cell number, too?”

“No, I just… happen to still have your home telephone number memorized and hoped that you guys hadn’t moved,” he says, a little guiltily.

You’re silent for a moment, thoughtlessly scooping more bean sprouts onto your plate than any sane person would be comfortable eating. The two of you inch along the buffet display as you attempt to process his sudden confession.

On one hand, you’re slightly betrayed that your own brother hadn’t thought to mention that your ex had called him, but on the other hand, what would you have done if he did? Ask if you could say hello? The Y/N from last month probably would have laughed if she had known that Min Yoongi still cared enough to call and check on her family, much less have her landline memorized even after all these years.

He still cared.

Unbeknownst to everyone in the room, your heart skips a beat at the thought. You cradle a hand to your chest, urging your nerves to quell. Keep it together, you beg your stupid, naive heart. You can survive one night without falling in love again, can’t you?

...can you?

“I…” you stammer. You swallow thickly, desperate for something to say, anything to stop your mind from going in the wrong direction. “They miss you, you know? You have no idea how many times my parents ask if you’re coming home for Christmas, or—I don’t know.”

“Yeah, my parents are the same. They always wanna know if I’m coming home for the holidays, and they,” he hesitates, swallowing thickly, “They always ask about you, too.”

Oh.

“Oh,” you mutter lamely. Your cheeks feel like they’ve been lit on fire the moment you got here, and you haven’t even visited the bar yet.

You finally make it to the end of the long buffet table where there is a large chocolate fountain just begging for you to ravage if only your stomach wasn’t besieged by butterflies. Yoongi glances at you, his own hands too full to get any desserts, but he still pauses as if he’s waiting for you. When you make it apparent you aren’t interested in the mouthwatering cakes and pastries (a big fat lie, but you also don’t want to vomit in front of him and your hundreds of schoolmates), he raises a brow as though he’s surprised.

“What? I’m not that much of a sweet tooth,” you scoff.

“This is coming from the girl who broke into her little brother’s piggy bank to buy some ice cream from a passing street vendor?” he teases.

“That’s the old me. Now, I make enough money to buy my own sweets,” you say smugly.

He rolls his eyes. “Whatever you say.” If you didn’t know any better, you might have thought he looked endeared.

The pair of you search for Hoseok and Seokjin, only to find that the couple had somehow found a table for all of you somewhere near the back. With one last longing glance at the wondrous chocolate fountain, you walk away with Yoongi in tow. You have to push through throngs of people, a few old familiar faces stopping to say hello before they notice the precarious situation on Yoongi’s plate and let you through. You wave at them, promising to greet them later before turning to Yoongi.

“Isn’t it kind of weird to see all these people again? Not gonna lie, it’s almost hard to recognize a few of them.” You note some of the crazy hair colors and drastic fashion choices that you never thought you’d see a decade ago. An even stranger sight, however, is the occasional schoolmates with little ones attached to their hips. You recognize one of the new parents, your mouth dropping in shock.

“Wait, is that Seulgi? And is that her—”

“Her son? Jesus Christ,” Yoongi mutters, equally as bewildered as you. “Damn, I did not expect her of all people to be one of the first to have a kid. I’d always thought it’d be Sooyoung.”

You nod in agreement. You observe the little boy tug roughly at her skirt, his tiny fists making grabbing motions at the cookies on her plate. “Yeah. I always thought I’d have a kid before Seulgi, at least. What a surprise.”

You speak before you think, and it takes longer than it should have for you to realize your mistake. By then, Yoongi’s expression had already morphed into astonishment, his eyes bugging out as he chokes on his spit.

Your cheeks are burning, your mouth opening and closing as pure panic seizes you. You cannot believe that you just said that! No fucking way! Did you eat lube this morning or something? Why are words just spilling out of your mouth at an unprecedented rate?! You’re begging your brain to come up with something, anything, to control the damage, but alas your thoughts remain resolutely frozen.

If aliens were to choose to study the human race right now, they’d be sorely disappointed to find the lack of intelligent lifeforms. No complex thoughts going on over here! Not one goddamn neuron firing in this bitch!

“O-oh, well, that’s…” he trails off. He clears his throat, his jaw clenched as he awkwardly tries to feign composure. “I didn’t know you were, um, interested? Well, n-not that I think you were averse to the idea of having kids, since I remember you mentioning it when we were, um,” he pauses, struggling to find a word other than dating, or together, or in love, or not painstakingly careful around each other, like every conversation topic was a fucking minefield.

“Younger?” you supply. A safe, neutral word. Yay for you! You deserve a snack from your animal care keeper right about now.

“Right,” he nods. He looks down at his shoes, revealing his flushed neck. He’s frustratingly adorable like this, but it does nothing except distract you. “Were you, um, planning on having a kid with your ex-boyfriend? Before you broke up?”

Ex-boyfriend? Why is he bringing him up all of a sudden? You stare at him in confusion for half a second before realization strikes you. Thankfully (or unthankfully), it seems that Yoongi misunderstands the implication behind your words and has taken your little slip-up the wrong way. For once, you are so thankful that Yoongi almost failed Math during the 10th grade and never learned to put two and two together.

“Definitely not,” you bark out a laugh, but it sounds incredibly forced, even to your own ears. You stare at the plate of food in your hands, a wave of unpleasant memories washing over you. “I doubt he’d ever want kids, anyway. Seokjin used to make fun of him and call him the world’s biggest toddler.”

Yoongi winces, his brow furrowing. “How long were you together?”

“Like, two years?” You shrug. “It felt longer, to be honest. Even if we dated for so long, I could never imagine myself having a family with him,” you say.

It was almost the truth, but not quite. While your ex-boyfriend had undoubtedly been a pain in your ass, he wasn’t completely bad, especially in the beginning. You had enough self-respect that you would have ended the relationship earlier if he didn’t have any redeeming qualities. The main problem was that he had a tough act to follow, and you don’t think any man on earth would be able to live up to your lofty expectations at this point, not when you’d constantly be comparing everyone to—

Yoongi speaks up again. “Seokjin seems to really dislike him. Was he really that bad?”

“Seokjin has never really liked any of my past flings,” you admit, rolling your eyes. (You fail to mention that Yoongi has always been the only exception.) “Despite his own disgustingly high body count, I can’t say he was wrong. Sungjae was a self-centered prick who never gave me the time of day. Hell, I was almost thankful when I caught him cheating. It was the final push I needed.”

Even though it’s been so long, the pain of seeing your ex-boyfriend locking lips with a stranger he had randomly picked up from the street still throbs inside of you. It wasn’t like you were particularly sad or surprised to find out, but you’d always been a bit sensitive to people who kept secrets from you. Plus, it kinda sucked to know that they had fucked on your favorite Egyptian cotton sheets.

“Fucking bastard. If I ever saw him in person, I’d definitely kick his nuts ‘til he’s left with a concave crotch,” he seethes, eyes narrowing.

You laugh. You have to confess that the mental image is satisfying. “You don’t even know what he looks like though!”

“Doesn’t matter. I’m sure Seokjin would tell me if I asked,” he huffs. He mutters something else after, but his volume drops to a whisper and you have to step closer to properly hear him.

“What? Sorry, I missed that,” you say, but you could have sworn he said something like “I wouldn’t have done that if it were me” but you couldn’t be completely sure.

“N-nothing,” he stutters, waving off your confusion. He tacks on a smile, but you can tell that he must have been embarrassed by whatever he’d said. If it was anything like what you thought he’d said, then you could understand. It wasn’t like he was wrong, anyway.

He makes a move to rub the back of his neck, but he greatly underestimates the weight of his platter and nearly drops everything. Something deep inside of you kicks in, and your body instinctively moves to hold his plate with your free hand, saving him from a very messy situation. However, that also means that your hands are now touching each other, your fingertips grazing his knuckles.

Instead of letting him go like a normal person, your ape brain makes the first move (as per usual).

“Your hands are still cold,” you say dumbly. You had wanted to say more, like “your hands are still as cold as they were from when we were younger,” but bringing up your past together, even for something so harmless, still feels taboo. You keep your hands where they are, your eyes locked on his. It feels like you’re in the middle of a dramatic TV show while I Will Go To You by Ailee plays in the background. You can almost imagine the numerous ads for random Korean cosmetic products framing the two of you in slow motion.

Yoongi chuckles, reluctantly pulling away from you. You already miss the sensation of his skin on yours. “I guess some things never change, huh?” he says, wavering slightly. He stares at you for another moment before shaking his head, as though he’s pushing away some unwelcome thoughts. He turns away, leaving you behind to make his way to your table.

Despite the unbidden emotions bubbling up your throat and threatening to spill over, you have no choice but to follow.

At the table, Seokjin and Hoseok speak mutely with each other, though the exaggerated expressions on both their faces tell you that they had been in the middle of an argument. When Yoongi takes his place beside Hoseok, the couple pauses in their bickering to greet you.

Hoseok looks at Yoongi’s overflowing plate. “Dude. I know I teased you about being a skinny twig a while ago, but I wasn’t implying that you gorge yourself.”

Yoongi jolts in surprise before staring back at his plate. Weirdly enough, he looks just as shocked as Hoseok to find the amount of food he had gotten, as though he hadn’t even noticed.

Perhaps he was just as distracted as you had been? you think, staring at your own meager pickings. Oops, you definitely didn’t get enough food to fill your ravenous appetite.

“That’s fine. I can share with you guys,” Yoongi says.

Seokjin peers at your plate, smirking knowingly. “Oh, yes. I’m sure Y/N would love to get some of your food. It seems like the two of you either over or underestimated how much you’d eat.”

“Aww, cute!” Hoseok coos, pinching Yoongi’s cheek. “You still have the habit of getting food for her. That’s so sweet that you still remember that about her!”

You had been in the middle of taking a swig of your water, but Hoseok’s comment nearly causes it to spew out from your nose. You cough harshly, beating your chest as your nose burns, among other things.

“Hoseok!” Yoongi scolds. He hits his friend on the shoulder, but Hoseok’s giggles refuse to stop.

“Oh shit, you’re totally right! Remember all those times when either one of us was forced to third-wheel with them?” Seokjin guffaws. “Y/N always orders something gross whenever we eat out together, and Yoongi ends up having to share half of his food with her when she starts moping.”

“I did not mope!” you retort vehemently.

“You kind of did,” Yoongi mutters under his breath, but you catch him this time.

You cross your arms, scowling. “Did not!”

Yoongi covers his mouth to fake a cough, but you can tell he’s smiling from how his eyes start to crinkle.

“You guys are so cute,” Hoseok sighs, squeezing Yoongi into a hug. Yoongi paws at him weakly, but you know that he enjoys skinship too much to push his friend away. Still, he pouts cutely, his cheeks puffing up like a pastry.

“Anyway, why were you guys arguing a while ago?” Yoongi asks, changing the subject. “Seokjin-hyung is kinda red in the face.”

“Oh, we weren’t really arguing. Hyung had gotten some wine from the bar but he forgot to get me some,” Hoseok says. He glares sharply at Seokjin. “Bastard.”

“You just said we weren’t fighting!” Seokjin whines. He stands up, raising his arms in surrender. “But fine! I’ll go get your damn wine,” he sulks, groaning when he stretches his back and a few worrisome pops resound from his joints.

“Damn, hyung. I know I told you that I hope you grow up well when we were kids, but I didn’t think you’d take it that literally,” Yoongi jokes, earning a sharp laugh from you. Yoongi glances at you then, visibly proud when he catches the wide grin on your face.

Seokjin gasps, offended. “I am not old! I’m literally a year older than you guys! And here I was, about to get you both drinks as well! It sucks to be the nice one in a friend group,” he sniffs.

“Yes, we are eternally grateful for your service,” Hoseok says sarcastically. “Oh, and remember to get some drinks for Y/N and Yoongi-chi too!” Hoseok adds, slamming his palm on Seokjin’s sore back.

Seokjin yelps, before biting his lip. “Owwie, that hurt,” he moans, winking salaciously.

As the closest person to him, you make it your right to jam your heeled foot onto his gelatinous and push away with a shout of disgust. “Leave, wench!” you snarl, but you’re unfortunately drowned out by his cackling. Even so, he does make his leave, affording your table some level of peace.

“So,” Hoseok starts, a twinkle of mischief in his eye. He cradles his chin with his hands, smiling innocuously at the two of you. “How’s it goin’? Are you both having fun?” he says, laced with meaning.

Ah, you had forgotten; peace was never an option.

Though he is undoubtedly less annoying than Seokjin, you still don’t trust the way he’s staring at you, like he’s waiting for one of you to jump into the other’s lap and recreate his favorite porn scene.

(A terrible thought to have, especially when you’d probably be as begrudging as you should be if you were swayed sufficiently.)

“It’s going fine, thank you very much,” Yoongi responds, giving his best friend a stern look.

You nod wordlessly, unable to trust yourself to keep from stammering and making your frayed nerves apparent (if they aren’t already.) You grab your glass and busy yourself with your drink to delay answering.

You don’t notice that you had taken Yoongi’s cup by accident until you’ve already gulped a third of his water, dropping it with a loud clunk. “Oh shit, sorry! I didn’t mean to drink from yours,” you say sheepishly.

Yoongi smiles at your concern. “No worries. It’s just a cup.”

“Sharing cups too? Damn, what happened while Seokjin and I were away?” Hoseok laughs. Yoongi flicks him lightly on the wrist in retaliation.

“It’s just a cup,” he repeats before turning to you. “Sorry, I think he’s a bit drunk.”

“Haven’t had a single drop of alcohol but whatever,” Hoseok says, shoveling a large piece of tuna belly into his mouth.

The sight of him eating reminds you of your own hunger, your food slightly colder now after talking to Yoongi and your friends for so long. You take a spoonful of chicken, the taste not terrible but not as good as you would like. Your face must give your disappointment away because you hear Yoongi chuckling beside you.

“Bad food again? Guess you really are the same,” Yoongi says, low enough that Hoseok wouldn’t hear. He pushes his plate towards you, carefully nudging some of his bulgogi onto yours. “This tastes kind of sweet, so I’m not really into it. But you prefer it sweeter right?”

All you can do is nod in agreement, watching as he piles your plate with his food. His sleeves, which had already been stained previously by some stray bits of kimchi, become even more saturated with sauces and oils. Now that you see it up close, his sleeves seem a bit too long for him, his palms half covered like sweater paws.

Without thinking too hard, you place your hands over Yoongi’s wrists, his entire body freezing as he waits for what you will do. Gently, as though you’re approaching a frightened kitten, you fold his sleeves until they’re no longer dangling into his food. The gesture is more intimate than you had intended, his proximity allowing you to smell the familiar fragrance of his cologne.

Paco Rabanne, your mind reminds you. Of course.

You pull away, trying your best to appear as unfazed as possible. You clench your hands and dig your nails into your skin to keep them from trembling. “If I’m the same, you’re no better. You always used to forget to pull back your sleeves before eating.”

After a beat, Yoongi returns from his stupor, licking his lips. “My hands were cold,” he explains.

“I know.” You lick your lips too, suddenly parched despite all the water you have drunk.

A forgotten treasure trove of memories resurrects inside of you, things that you had thought had been buried too deep for you to find again. You are filled with this odd feeling, an awareness. An old wound has resurfaced, one that you thought had healed long ago.

That wound throbs, still.

It’s so strange, being with him like this. A piece of your past that has come to your present, both the same and different as you remember. He knows parts of you that no one else will, as do you with him. But those parts were only ever supposed to stay buried: memories, after all, aren’t supposed to be tangible.

And yet, here he stands: real, alive, close.

It leaves you feeling emptier than before.

The atmosphere grows somber after that, neither of you offering much to the conversation. Hoseok is more than happy to pick up the slack, filling the stark silence along with the occasional hums from Yoongi. When Seokjin returns, he makes no note of the change in mood and focuses more on eating and talking with his partner. It allows the two of you to remain deep in thought.

You are pushing your remaining bits of food around your plate when the soft instrumental music playing on the overhead speaker stops abruptly, and the sound of a microphone being tapped prompts everyone to turn to the front of the ballroom. The host of the event announces that the next part of the reunion will begin shortly and encourages all the performers to head to the sound booth to prepare. A couple of your schoolmates rise from their seats, most of whom were the students you remembered being part of choir or band.

You half-expect Yoongi to stand up as well, but he stays rooted to the spot. Apparently, Hoseok is wondering the same thing.

“Yoongi? Didn’t you say that the organizers asked you to perform some of your songs?” Hoseok questions.

“They did.”

“But?”

Yoongi brings his fingers to his teeth, biting on them anxiously. Your hand makes a move to pull them away, but you think better of it. No need to supply your friends with more teasing ammunition. “But I changed my mind last minute. I felt kind of embarrassed to be performing my own songs. I’m more of a producer, not a performer.”

“There’s nothing to be embarrassed about, Yoongi. You’re poggers, as the kids like to say,” Seokjin pipes up.

“I wouldn’t put it like that, but he’s right. A lot of people like your music and think you’re a great performer,” you assure him. “And I like your music, too,” you add shyly.

Yoongi’s hand drops from his mouth, eyes glittering with disbelief. He looks like he wants to disagree with you, but eventually decides to just smile in gratitude. “I didn’t know you listened to my music,” he says quietly.

Before you can reply, Seokjin chooses to interrupt with his migraine-inducing cackle and ruin the moment (as he is prone to do.) “Oh bitch! If you only knew how much this girl loves your music. She even buys your physical CDs AND collects your photocards.”

“I do not!” You scream, flinging a piece of bread at his head. You refuse to peek at Yoongi.

“Don’t worry, Y/N! I collect his photocards too. Wanna trade sometime? I’m missing the one when he still had mint hair,” Hoseok giggles.

“Will the two of you stop? God, it’s like you both had been planning to embarrass us as much as possible,” Yoongi exclaims, incensed.

When neither of them responds, you and Yoongi whip your heads towards them only to find two self-satisfied, smirking shitheads.

“Why watch reality shows when you can make your own?” Seokjin says in lieu of an answer, pointing finger guns. He blows you a kiss with a wink.

You clutch your chest, pretending to wince in pain. “Augh! Poison damage!”

Seokjin scoffs. “Swagever, man. You’re just mad because you’re angry,” he retorts, sticking out his tongue.

While you were occupied bickering with Seokjin, you had not seen that one of your old schoolmates had invited herself to your table. She sandwiches herself in the space between you and Yoongi, bumping you roughly enough to topple you out of your chair.

“What the fuck?” you yelp in surprise, holding onto the table to balance yourself. After straightening back into your seat, you find that your view of the world has become obscured by asscheeks the size of beachballs.

“Hi Yoongi,” she purrs seductively. Or at least, what she thinks is seductive. To you, her voice sounds like nails grating on a chalkboard.

“Hello?” Yoongi says, but it comes out sounding more like a question. It’s clear that he doesn’t remember her name, as he searches your eyes for help. You shrug unhelpfully; you deleted almost all the names of everyone that you had gone to school with right after graduation. Besides, her horrendous plastic surgery makes it even twice as hard to discern her identity.

“Hi Hyejin,” Hoseok speaks up, answering your unspoken question. Oh, right. The name does ring a bell, somewhat. You don’t recall her looking like a cartoon character before, but you suppose beauty standards are meant to be subjective. Maybe she wanted to look like a One Piece character.

Hyejin purses her lips into a tight smile but doesn’t return his greeting. She turns back to Yoongi, bending forward until her boobs are practically smooshed against his face. You wonder idly if stabbing her chest with your chopsticks would cause them to burst like a balloon, or perhaps drain like a puss-filled pimple. Both, you surmise, would be very entertaining to watch.

“It’s been a while since we’ve last seen each other, hm? I heard you’ve been very busy ever since we graduated from high school,” she says, batting her eyelashes.

“Uh, yeah? Some of us have jobs,” he says, passively dissing her. You let out a strangled laugh, causing Hyejin to aim a glare back at you. You bring your (his) cup of water to your lips, feigning innocence.

Hyejin rolls her eyes. “Right. But I meant that you’ve become a real star back in Seoul! I didn’t know you were such a musical prodigy!”

“I’m really not. I just work hard,” he shrugs. He’s visibly uncomfortable, especially since Hyejin was pretty much breathing the same air as him. Every time he leans away from her, she takes it as an invitation to come closer. He is nearly lying horizontally at this point, his back parallel with the floor.

“Humble as well as handsome? My, my. I didn’t think you’d be such a charmer,” she laughs, saccharine sweet. She twirls her dyed brown hair with her perfectly manicured acrylic nails. You rub at the goosebumps forming on your arms, cringing at the phantom sensation of her nails digging into your skin.

“Just spit it out. What the hell do you want so you can leave,” Seokjin interjects. Everything about his demeanor says calm and collected, but the way he presses his lips into a thin line says otherwise. You can sense the air dropping in temperature, despite the embers burning behind his eyes.

“I came over here to ask if Yoongi could give me his autograph, that’s all. I am his biggest fan, after all,” she sulks. She winks at him for extra measure. “And maybe his number too? I’d love to discuss your music with you sometime!”

“Oh, um. That’s—” he cuts off, hesitant to answer. He tugs at his ears nervously, exchanging subtly alarmed glances with you.

You remember that signal very distinctly; it’s a distress call that he would do whenever he needed a way out. He used to do it a lot when you were at social gatherings, especially when people would trap him in boring or awkward conversations. He never did like socializing with people outside his circle, but he was often dragged to parties by his more extroverted friends.

He might be hot as hell with his stylish clothes and jaw-dropping undercut, but he’s still awkward as hell around strangers. When the universe created him, they made sure to keep everything in balance. If they hadn’t been fair, you certainly would’ve died much earlier.

“Yoongi, don’t you have spare CDs of your music?” you quip, dragging Hyejin’s attention onto you. Her eyes narrow imperceptibly, suspicious.

“I do?” He stares at you blankly.

You resist hitting your forehead in exasperation. “Yes, Yoongi. Remember? You left a couple of them in my car.”

Yoongi’s eyes light up in understanding. “Oh, right! I left my CDs. In your car. That we drove here. Together. We came here. Together. Yes, correct.”

From your periphery, you can sense Hoseok barely holding onto his sanity after witnessing that pitiful display. Who can blame him when Yoongi’s infamously terrible acting skills are having their first appearance in over ten years? How he managed to pass Drama class is still a mystery to this day.

“Yup,” you say, popping your p. You give Hyejin a winsome smile, your hands folded neatly on your lap. You can almost see the steam blowing out of her ears. It fills you with delicious satisfaction. “Why don’t Yoongi and I go get them so he can sign one?”

If her eyes had been made of lasers, you’d be a cauterized mess jumble of organs by now. Can’t say you would regret it either way.

“How kind of you.” She sneers. “Also, I wasn’t aware that you two were still a thing.”

“I wasn’t aware that we were required to inform you of anything,” you retort placidly. You plaster on your fakest grin. “Now, if you can please move your fat ass—I mean, if you can please move out of the way so I can go to my car...” you trail off, gesturing for her to leave.

After a few more indignant sputters on her end, she eventually makes her exit. She throws a couple of poisonous glares, but they go largely ignored by you and your friends. With her gone, you feel as though you can finally breathe fresh air again.

“Great stuff, Y/N! Congrats on winning your first bitch-off,” Seokjin chirps, back to his usual self. You roll your eyes at his antics but smile nonetheless.

“Thanks. I learned from the best.”

Yoongi clears his throat. “So, are we still gonna go?” He looks back and forth from her to you. “Just so we can pretend you actually have my albums in your car?”

“Trust me, Yoongi-chi. She does have your albums in her car.” Seokjin titters. “I wasn’t kidding about the photocard collection.”

“Ignore him. And yes, I do have your albums. I listen to them in my car from time to time,” you say, attempting nonchalance. “I’d hate to give them away to that bitch, but if it keeps her away...”

Away from you is left unsaid, but it’s heavily implied.

(No, you aren’t jealous. You’re above jealousy. It’s not like that bitch would ever have a chance with him anyway, unlike you—!

Woah there, cowgirl. Let’s stay on the right path. Don’t want your heart getting chewed up and spat back out all over again, do you?)

“I’ll just mail you a new one. Signed, if you want. You can probably sell it on eBay or whatever.” He tries to say it like a joke, but his brow is too furrowed to be convincing. (You want to kiss him there and make it go away.)

You don’t trust yourself to speak, so all you do is nod mutely. You stand up and Yoongi follows suit.

“We’ll be right back. If she comes back before then, tell her to scram,” you tell Hoseok and Seokjin. They salute you in response (well, Hoseok does. Seokjin does a very rude gesture with his fingers that is supposed to mimic something explicit. Feel free to use your imagination.)

The walk to the parking lot is a quiet one. The two of you stay side by side, his strides naturally matching your own. Unlike before, you don’t feel the need to fill the silence for once, content to just be in each other’s presence.

The hotel that your reunion is being held at is unusually unpopulated. The lobby consists of a handful of employees milling about, a few of whom look ready to fall asleep on their feet. You nod politely at the bellboy who opens the main doors for you, declining his offer to call the valet service to fetch your car.

“Just hand me my keys. I’ll look for my car in the parking lot.” It wouldn’t be hard to find, anyway. Your beat-up Toyota Corolla looks as though it’s been through three wars and then some.

It isn’t long until you find it parked close to the entrance. You unlock your car from the passenger seat, shimmying the glove compartment open to reveal your collection of CDs.

“Wow, you weren’t lying when you said you listened to my music,” Yoongi says, voice loud amidst the tranquil night. It startles you, and you accidentally knock over some of the albums onto your car floor. On top of the pile lies Yoongi’s most recent album, the one you recall he had released a couple of months ago.

Strange, how just hours ago you were listening to his music on the way to the reunion, only for the boy on the cover of the album to be just inches away from you.

“Yeah, well. You’re a pretty good artist,” you say.

“Only pretty good?” he repeats, amused.

“Don’t push it,” you snort. You grab the album on top, waving it in front of him. “This should be good enough, right?”

He plucks it from your grasp, an unreadable expression clouding his eyes. He chuckles, but there’s an edge of sadness in his tone. “Good enough,” he agrees solemnly.

His sudden quietness is different from the peaceful one before. It’s sorrowful, maybe regretful. He looks like a man stuck in grief.

“Did you know that I didn’t finish this album before releasing it?”

The question seems a little out of the blue, but you answer regardless. “No, I didn’t. They don’t sound unfinished to me.”

“The songs themselves aren’t unfinished,” he explains. He turns the album over, his finger running down the back where the tracklist is printed. “One of my songs never made it in.”

“Couldn’t you have delayed the album launch so you could complete it?”

He shakes his head. “It was actually the first song I finished out of all of them.”

“Then..?”

“It didn’t matter, at the time. I wrote it for someone specifically, but I didn’t want to put it on the album if she—they didn’t listen to it. It wouldn’t matter if the whole world heard that song because only they would understand it.”

“But now? What changed?” Fear and hope run down your spine in tandem when the question tumbles out of you. You hold your breath, and the world shifts from its axis.

But he doesn’t elaborate further.

x x x x x

You return to the hotel after acquiring both an album and some more tension. The album feels heavy in your hands, weighed down by secrets you are still too afraid to uncover. Not that Yoongi would ever willingly divulge them to you—because revealing them would make them real, and making them real would mean you would have to accept them, and accepting them would cause you to—

“They’re gone,” Yoongi announces when you reenter the ballroom. You can’t spot your table from the entranceway, but the certainty in Yoongi’s tone makes you believe him.

“No fucking way. Did those two little shits ditch us to exchange body fluids or something?”

Yoongi grimaces. “Please don’t say it like that. It’s bad enough that I was sitting close enough to Hoseok a while ago that I got accidentally footsie’d by Seokjin hyung.”

You wince, placing a pitying hand on his shoulder. “God didn’t make us his strongest soldiers.”

Yoongi tries dialing Hoseok a few times, but none of the calls connect. “Just my rotten luck,” he groans. He types angrily into his phone, worry creasing his forehead. “He was supposed to be my ride back to his place.”

“Seokjin isn’t answering his phone either,” you say apologetically. “How much do you wanna bet this is part of their evil scheme to leave us together?”

“I don’t doubt it in the slightest,” he deadpans. He sighs tiredly, rubbing his temples. “I suppose I can take a taxi there, but I also don’t know if he’ll be home to open the door for me.”

“Then why don’t you just stay with me?”

You don’t know what you’re doing.

In your head, the offer makes sense. He’s just a friend, you remind yourself. Nothing is stopping you from rekindling a friendship with him. You have purely platonic intentions. Friends help each other out.

Never mind the fact that your heart hasn’t stopped fluttering the entire night. Never mind the fact that you’ve caught yourself staring at him just as many times as you’ve caught him staring at you. Never mind the fact that you don’t want the night to end, not now not ever.

(Never mind the fact that you’ve never quite stopped loving him.)

So when he accepts, you convince yourself that offering had been the right thing to do.

(Maybe. Hopefully. You just wish your heart doesn’t end up as collateral damage.)

The drive home is short, thanks to the late hour. You had asked him if he had wanted to stay until the end of the reunion, but he had declined. “Nothing else left for me there,” he says.

You feel as though he’s hinting at something. Your grip on the steering wheel tightens. “At least I get to keep my album.”

Yoongi laughs, short and sweet.

As much as you try to fight it, sitting in the car with him brings up a lot of memories.

The two of you in the backseat as his older brother drives you to his house for dinner, backpacks filled with crumpled notes and loose pens, a promise of an intense study session for your upcoming exams ready to be broken. You remember how the sky would turn orange in the afternoon, the warm light streaming through the car window and washing Yoongi’s skin with a soft glow.

His cheeks had looked inviting, his lips even more. And you would lean over, kissing him like it was easy. Because it was easy, and you never had to think twice about it.

Your trip down memory lane doesn’t end in the car. As you walk up the steps to your childhood home, you hesitate by the door, your keys frozen over the lock. You can hear Yoongi’s soft breathing behind you, but his presence doesn’t feel as stifling as you thought it would be.

You’re far from being at ease, but you aren’t frightened either. Mostly, you’re just filled with anticipation. Of what? You aren’t sure.

“Excuse the mess. Jungkook is in the middle of moving out so there’s just stuff everywhere,” you say just as you open the door. You toe off your shoes by the entrance, kicking them off haphazardly into the pile of sneakers and boots.

You hear Yoongi huff out a laugh behind you. “Aish, that kid. Still hasn’t let go of his Timbs, huh?”

“He has also been really into chunky sneakers these days. I think he’s finalizing his transformation into Thumper,” you joke. “He’s staying at his new apartment for the weekend with my parents, so you won’t be seeing them. They’re helping him settle in.”

“Really? He didn’t mention moving when we spoke. Where is he moving to?”

“Busan. He and his best friend from college are going to start a restaurant in his hometown. Which is funny, since neither of them are the best chefs.”

Yoongi whistles. “Still, that’s impressive. I can’t remove the image from my head of when he was a kid. He was so scared of anything. He wouldn’t let go of your mom’s leg even if his life depended on it.”

He steps deeper into the house, his gaze jumping from end to end as he surveys your childhood home. You watch him, noting how right he looks standing there in the middle of your living room, like a chipped painting that has been restored.

It’s scary, how easily you’ve accepted him back into this place.

He stays rooted to the spot, the moonlight filtering through the kitchen windows and illuminating his frame. The air pulses with something magical, something dream-like, and it muddles your vision. It’s the only explanation you have for why your chest tightens when he turns to face you, with a gaze filled with sadness, mourning, yearning.

“Jungkook’s height chart is still here,” he murmurs. The small nicks on the kitchen door frame are hard to see, and other people have mistaken them for signs of wear and tear. But he knows what they are because he was there when your mother had etched the first scratch.

He looks at your ancient dining table, his hand brushing over the surface. “This too,” he says, rubbing at a large burn mark on the wood.

“Mom made sure to use placemats after that. I didn’t think a sizzling plate would burn through the table like that,” you say, giggling as you reminisce. “You know, we still use your mom’s galbi jjim recipe. We haven’t found a better one.”

“I’m sure she would love to hear that,” Yoongi smiles, but it fades just as quickly. “It’s so… strange. Being here again and seeing that nothing really changed.”

But things did change. Upstairs, in your bedroom. That night, ten years ago.

You still remember what you had said to him, when you had said it to him, how you had said it to him.

It was a sunny afternoon, the time of day when you’d be on your way home from school. The two of you had stood in your room, neither of you wanting to sit because sitting meant staying, and staying only made this harder.

There hadn’t been many tears in that moment; those were shed only after the realization had sunk in, when you’d fully understood what had happened. At the time, the decision had been as easy as breathing.

Except you had both been drowning. The clock was ticking down to the end of high school, and the inevitable wasn’t slowing down.

Yoongi wanted to chase his dreams in Seoul. You wanted to stay closer to home, with your friends and family.

You weren’t going to be the one to hold him down. You weren’t going to be that person, not when he’s destined for greater things than his hometown could offer—not even a girl who loved him would be worth staying for.

He had suggested it, first. He had been prepared for you to cry, or maybe scream, but you did none of that. Instead, you pulled him close, hugging him tighter than you ever had before. You wanted to make it last, imprint the sensation onto your brain so that his warmth might stay with you, even after he’s little more than a distant memory. You trembled, terribly so, even though the beginnings of summer crept on your skin like a brand.

It’s time to let him go, Time whispered. You refused to listen, just for another moment.

Let me have this last moment, you beg. But Time refused to listen.

“Do you know?” Yoongi had spoken into your neck, had hoped his words would stain there. “Do you know how much I love you?”

Love, not loved. “I did,” you say. You think better of it. “I do.”

When you separated, for good this time, it had left an ache deeper than you could have ever imagined.

But you were young. Young love was supposed to hurt, but it wasn’t supposed to last. “You’ll find others,” your mother had said, brushing a soothing hand through your hair as you sobbed.

Then why? Then why has it lasted this long?

It has been a question you’ve asked yourself, and you’re starting to think that the answer has always been right in front of you.

The answer is standing in front of you: real, alive, close.

“Why didn’t you ever date again?” you ask. You ask even though you know he can lie, if he wants. He can tell you anything and you would believe him.

But he wouldn’t; you know he wouldn’t.

“I was afraid of closing a door that I never meant to close in the first place,” he says. His voice crackles like static, but that might be the blood rushing to your head. He moves toward you but keeps a hand’s width away. Still too far.

He continues. “After that day, when I left,” he swallows, “after I left, I think… I think I left a piece of me with you. A-and I don’t think I ever stopped…” he cuts off, exhaling shakily.

“Stopped what?” you breathe.

“You know.” He waves his hands around helplessly. They fall heavily back down to his sides, defeated. “You know?” he repeats.

You do. Because you are the same. The old wound had never healed; it burns and it bleeds like new.

Your skull feels like it’s stuffed with cotton when you close the distance between the two of you. He circles his arms around your waist, tentative, but he relaxes when you wind your arms around his neck. Your vision is warped, so you choose to close them. You wait, with bated breath, as his warmth inched closer and closer.

The sensation of his lips on yours jolts you back to your senses. His kiss reminds you of your youth, of a love that had made you excited to start your day. Even now, your body remembers, and it rejoices.

The tenderness does not last long before it turns fervent, tongue and teeth crashing like waves against the shore. If his kisses could speak, they would tell you stories of how much he missed you, of how much he mourned the time you had both lost. They would tell you of the days when he’d almost pressed your number onto his phone, of the nights when he’d stare at the polaroids he had kept of you.

They would ask if you still love him like he still loves you.

He tastes of desperation, and you are likely to be the same. It is a desperation you haven’t tasted in years—but it doesn’t feel scary like it used to. Time no longer feels like it’s racing against you, like you had something to prove before the hour was over. This reckless abandon feels like home against your skin—it is an ache being soothed after having ripped your scabs over and over again.

It’s Yoongi.

And when he pulls you to your room, he doesn’t even need his eyes to find his way as his feet still memorize the floorboards. He struggles with the doorknob, forgetting that it always jammed, but it’s okay because you can always teach him again. You can teach him everything again.

The bed creaks under your weights and even the mattress sounds like it is sighing in relief. That sigh echoes from your lips when his hand slips under your clothes, his palm stopping over your heart.

“I won’t break it, this time,” he says. He promises. “If you let me.”

You wonder if he can feel your heart soaring, pounding against your ribs. “I think the line has long been crossed to ask for my permission.” You place your hand over where his is laid. You squeeze tight.

This time, you don’t let him go.

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everyhowlmarksthedead · 3 years

Text

; good enough

lee bodecker x fem!reader.

summary. your father invited you to his birthday party and things ended badly.

words. about 2.3k.

warnings, tags. nsfw, +18!!! drunk state, language, unprotected sex, daddy!kink, very brief degradation, mention of bodily fluids, very brief mention of violence. and i think that's all.

a / n. first time writing for this man that has me obsessed, so i hope y'all like it! none of my writings contains reader's body descriptions to be inclusive. if you find something out of place, please send me a message and i'll change it.

You didn't want to be there, but it was your father's birthday and you couldn't miss it. More than thirty minutes had passed since the last time you saw your husband standing in a corner of the large living room, sipping from his glass of whisky and judging every guest around in silence. Lee hated your parents, your family, their friends. And you didn't blame him. Your family never accepted him, always repeating that he wasn't good enough for you, nor your interests. Except for your mom. She wasn't the only one who didn't treat him like dirt.

Once that you escaped from your father's arms, showing you as a trophy and trying to set you up on a date with one of his best friend's sons, you stepped out of the house to the back garden. It was cold outside, having to close your jacket around your chest as you closed both arms over it. Following the footprints on the grass, you reached the improvised parking where different cars were stationed. The smoke coming from nowhere called your attention, glimpsing Lee sitting on the hood of his black Ford. Cigarette in his left hand and bottle of whisky in his right.

You doubted for a second to interrupt his moment of peace for the first time in two weeks. Two long weeks where you barely had spent time together. He started holding over his shifts because, apparently, there was too much paperwork to attend. You couldn't help but think that he was raving mad about you, or about something you did unconsciously. But the real problem was that your husband never used to talk about his feelings or what was going in his mind.

“I think you've drunk enough”. You uttered watching him raise the bottle to his lips.

Lee chuckled ironically, shaking his head. “Lucky me I don' care”.

Frowning and with your mouth pressed closed, you walked towards his position to face him. He had never talked to you like that, but he was being honest, shrugging his shoulders to point it out a little more.

“I do. I do care”.

“Don' worry, darlin'. I ain't gonna shame you in front of your family”. He scoffed bitterly, finally sipping from his drink. “Watya' doin' here anyway? Party's indoors”.

“You're here tho”.

“And who fuckin' cares, uh? You were having so much fun inside with that… pretty boy who works in Wall Street”. Your husband mocked taking a drag from his cigarette. “We should divorce, don' you think? So you coulda go with him to the big city, and don' be stuck in… How d'your father call it? Knockemshit. Stuck with a… fat sheriff of a shitty town”.

Lee didn't notice the tears blurring your gaze till he raised his face. The bitter smile curving his lips suddenly disappeared, putting his pale blue eyes away from you because it was too painful for him to watch you cry. Your husband gulped hardly, kissing his teeth as he threw the cigar somewhere on the ground. You couldn't believe he really wanted to divorce you, wrapping your heart with a suffocating sorrow that barely let you breathe. He was your life and, after three years together, he seemed to not give a shit about it sometimes.

“I ain' like them”. You whispered sniffing.

“Tha' doesn' change the fact that you don' deserve a man like me. Your father is right. 'M a fucking loser compared to anyone inside his damn house”.

You loved Lee with all your heart, soul, mind, body. He was everything you want in your existence —your life. So damn obsessed with his touch, his kisses, his smell of wind and leather, his smile, that beautiful pair of pale blue eyes. You refused to believe he was talking seriously.

“You should be there. I— Imma go home, tell your mo—”.

Before your husband could finish his goodbye, you interrupted him by slapping his face. He didn't see that coming and you'd never imagine yourself hitting him. But you needed it, seeming the only way to stop him from abandoning you there. He kept his face away from you, trying to comprehend what had just happened. His drunkenness suddenly disappeared, pressing his inner cheek with the tip of his tongue whilst rubbing his hand over the reddened skin. You were so mad right now that you could set on fire the whole world.

And you were about to do it a second time when Lee caught your wrist in the air, painfully gripping his fingers around it to push you closer —chest against chest. Then, he raised his index finger. “Don' you fuckin' dare to try it again, y'hear me?”

You were furiously breathing, but not filling your lungs with air in reality, keeping your eyes on the blue ones that used to steal your heart every single day. It was like a contest of dominance you knew he always won. Any time.

Your husband didn't give you the chance to say sorry, slamming his lips on yours. A moan died in his tongue when it invaded your cavity while releasing your arm to fly his rough big hands to your ass, almost grabbing it all with his long fingers. Your digits went to the lapels of his leather jacket, not lasting too much there till finishing on the back of his head.

Lee was hungry for you, just like you were for him after two long weeks barely touching each other. Your husband devoured, sucked, and bit your lips, urging you to turn around enough to push you on top of the hood of his car. His hands pulled up the skirt of your dress, wanting to reach the waistband of your panties, receiving the great surprise that you weren't wearing any.

“You little dirty girl… Don' wantin' your Sheriff to lose time, uh?” He grunted with such an animal and eager tone, as he took care of the belt and the zip of his pants.

“I need you”. You sobbed against his lips, feeling his hands maneuvering between your legs.

At least, you were fast enough to cover your mouth with a hand when Lee rammed his rock dick into your soaked cunt, drowning in your palm a loud cry of pure satisfaction for being filled by your husband. Back and forth, he hit your body once and once, impaling you against the Ford still being furious by the way your father and friends treated him as if it was your fault. Lee was mad, really mad, digging his fingers in your hips to pin you on place and don't move, continuing fucking you harder and harder —challenging you to not be able to be quiet and make everybody heard how good he used to made you feel.

“Goddammit… you're so damn ti— tight, baby doll… So tight fo— for your daddy, ain' ya?”

“Yes… Yes, daddy”. You cried hiding your face into the crook of his neck.

His strong scent filling your lungs caused you to roll your eyes white, letting your soul leave your body while his cock attacked fiercely your pussy with no mercy. Your vocals were in sync with the screeching noise the car produced in every thrust straight to your guts. The pace was insane, intense than never before, and more pleasurable than you could imagine in your life.

Lee was aware how much you loved him, that you felt devotion for him. But sometimes —sometimes like those— he couldn't help but think he could lose you as soon as you realized who he was in reality. You didn't care. You weren't blind. You knew about his dirty laundry, his past, his sister (...). And you still wanted him with all your heart and body.

“Fu— Fuck, gonna put a… baby inside you”. He growled, wrapping his right around your throat to urge you to face him. “Y'want it, uh? D'you want dad— daddy to put a baby in that… beautiful belly?”

“Yes… please, Lee”. You whined with teary eyes, being too much pleasure for your body to handle. “Please, daddy… I wa— want you to… get me pre— pregnant with your child”.

Your husband's lips curved up in a petty smirk, pulling out from your dripping cunt, causing you to sob in disappointment. Lee managed to put you down on your shaky feet to turn you and force you to bend over the hood of his car. Ass upped, legs spread. He only took a second to stare at your glistening and abused folds in your arousal, prior to impaling you again. With a hand on your lower back and the other tangled in your head, your husband obligated you to arch your back as he continued banging your anatomy once and again.

At this point, you had forgotten your name, where you are, and if someone could hear how you cried pleased any time he crashed against your g-spot. It was a mix of pleasure and pain as Lee wasn't having any kind of compassion with your cunt, clenching unconsciously around his hard length. He knew then how close you were to cumming for him —because of him—, increasing the pace while you tried to find a place to put your hands on and find some balance to stay in place. As soon as the hand tangled in your hair landed back to your throat, you gripped five fingers around his wrist, enjoying the brief lack of air because of it.

“C'mon, my swe— sweet whore… Y'wanna cum for daddy, don't ya?”

His raspy and wrecked voice fell into your ear like an angelic melody, not being able to hold your moans anymore within your mouth. The knot inside your lower belly was bigger and bigger and suffocating, feeling how it could explode at any time. Lee shoved his cock non-stopping producing a sloppy obscene sound when his pelvis crashed against your ass, along the chink of his belt against the back of your thigh.

“Daddy… Daddy…” You called him while the tears started to fall again through your cheeks, this time, of absolute satisfaction.

You couldn't help but bite your lip strongly till the metallic taste of blood covered your tongue, letting yourself go as the knot bursted within your belly. The orgasm threw you above the edge with your husband's palm covering your mouth to not be heard or it would be really awkward to be caught by all the guests, even if he didn't care. He wouldn't mind showing that pretty boy from New York that nobody could fuck his little dirty girl better than himself. Oh, how funny it would be to see his face while your husband was ramming his cock into your abused pussy, cumming inside your tight walls, digging his teeth in your neck to mark his territory.

Lee came with a sensual and passionate hoarse gasp causing you goosebumps bristling your skin, burying himself balls deep to hold it inside the mix of your juices filling up your center. It felt like being in Heaven, although you weren't sure if you could walk after such an intense quickly, feeling your walls burning as his dick still twitching and stretching your cunt.

Your husband wasn't a man of kisses after sex, that's why he surprised you when tilted your face to his and pressed his lips on yours, panting, not caring about the lack of breath. It wasn't a lustful kiss either, more than a tender and fondly one, tasting your mouth, playing with your tongue.

Pulling out his semi-erection, Lee helped you to clean yourself with a tissue before using it to clean your arousal on him and toss it to the ground. As he put on his pants, you fixed your dress and your hair, turning around.

“You meant it?” You dared to ask, still having sorrow covering your voice. “Gettin' divorced… You mean it?”

“What?” He inquired, squinting confusedly until he realized what you were talking about. He chuckled holding your chin with two fingers. “You married me, darlin'. There's no other way you're gonna spend your life but with me. Willingly or not, you hear me?”

Lee raised both eyebrows very sure of his word before you nodded your head with a fleeting smile crossing your lips.

“Can we go home now…?”

“'S that what you want?”

You nodded your head a second time, while your husband placed his arms around you with hidden possessiveness to guide you back to your childhood's house. And of course, your father was enraged when you told him that you were leaving with your husband. He yelled at you and nobody tried to stop him till the moment he had the brilliant idea of pretending to lay a hand on you.

Lee punched him. Lee broke his nose. Lee made your father fall to the floor between the pretty boy's arms. And Lee never felt better in his whole damn life.

“Don't you ever come back to this house, if you leave now with this… bastard”.

“She doesn' need you”. Your husband cooed wrapping your neck with an arm, leaning slightly to borrow your purse. “Ma'am, my pleasure a see ya' again. The beef was delicious. G'night”.

You were yet processing what just happened, ashamed of the desire for your husband himself awakened inside you after watching him hitting your father. Lee could be a total asshole sometimes but one thing was undeniable: he loved you with all his heart and soul, he was obsessed with you since the very first time his oceanic eyes contemplated you walking down the street, smelling a bucket of roses you bought for yourself.

Never again you knew anything about your family. Not even when your son, called after your husband, was born. But you weren't sad. As Lee said, you didn't need them. You had your own family to take care of.

feedback is appreciated. if you enjoyed it, please leave a comment so i can know your opinion. reblogs are needed.

permanent tag list. @mayans-sauce @peoniarose @destynelseclipsa @band-psycho @myakai13 @petlaufeyson @-im-fantastic- @rocketqueen @rosieposie0624 @diaryofkali @ravenmoore14 @starrynite7114 @kenbechillin @miahelen @monkeyluver4546 @sheeshgivemeabreak @jadesamhart @rawrlittlepanda-95 @megapeacelovemusic-blog @katsav17 @skits90s @littlekittymeow @tenderclio @badame124 @regalbanshee @greeneyedblondie44 @phoenixhalliwell

#lee bodecker x reader #lee bodecker x female reader #lee bodecker x you #lee bodecker #lee bodecker x y/n #lee bodecker imagine #lee bodecker smut #sheriff lee bodecker #sheriff lee bodecker x reader #sheriff lee bodecker smut #sebastian stan x reader #sebastian stan smut #sebastian stan fanfiction

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xgryffinwhore · 3 years

Note

Hey! Can I request a jaeden martell x reader where basically their charters are dating on a tv show and they are really really good best friends in real life and they they both go on the Jimmy fallon show and he keeps on asking if they’re dating because everyone thinks they are and when they say no he obvi doesn’t let it go lol and it ends up slipping up that jaeden did/ does have a crush on reader and they maybe end up sharing a kiss in front is Jimmy & audience & stuff😶just an idea i had 😂:)

i love this idea wow, thinking i’m going to put my own little twist on it but i think you’ll still be pleased ;)

just friends

warnings!: suggestive topics, fluff

word count: 2.1k

five

your face was being touched up with powder, the cotton pad dabbing at your nose as the white powder absorbed into any oil your face may have had.

four

you look over at jimmy, this wasn’t your first talk show, but it had been the biggest one with the most following. it was intimidating, you bounced your foot up and down and played with your hands.

three

behavior jaeden had grown to recognize. he knew you better then you knew yourself, your anxiety was worse then you put it out to be. “you ok?” he questioned, “fine, i’m fine” you painted a small smile on your face. but he wasn’t easily fooled.

two

he grabbed one of your hands and rubbed circles into your palm, this sent vibrations of relaxation down your spine.

one

his eyes locked with yours, you swore they were a different color each time you saw them. sometimes more blue, sometimes more green, sometimes dark with mystery, sometimes light and playful.

‘aaand where on air’

you wiped the hand that was interlocked with his off on your dress, it was clammy. the curtain came up fast, and your vision was soon flooded with bright lights and silhouettes of bodies.

making out the faces in the sea of people was impossible, but you knew your friends were out there. they had flown out to see you, a) they could go see new york and b) you were on national television, and they wouldn’t miss it for the world.

jimmy was talking, you knew that much, but your nerves took over and honestly you weren’t registering a damn thing he was saying. the crowd cheered, you snapped out of your daze.

“and here tonight, we have jaeden martell and y/n l/n from the new HBO tv series: turning tables”

he turned to both of us, and gave everyone time to clap. he tired to speak over the loud hands, moving on with his show, but the crowd made that difficult. eventually the clapping died out and he could continue.

“now, i’ve watched all of the episodes but, for the people who haven’t seen: can you explain what the show is about?” he looked a jaeden, you let go of a breathe you had held in.

“s-sure” jaeden turned to face the audience more, he was soft spoken and shy, so it was important he projected as much as he could.

“turning tables is a teen drama. it’s about families of poverty in the seattle washington area and how they struggle to go to school and work. my character, jennings cooper, is the main protagonist. the show is mainly from his point of view, and how he struggle to support his family.”

jimmy nods and smiles, he looks pleased with his explanation. i’m truth the show wasn’t that simple, he knew that. but, it would take so long to explain.

“and y/n, who do you play?” he knew the answer to this obviously, but you were becoming a crowd favorite. everyone loved your personality, and you were an up-and-coming a list celebrity.

“i play parker marlow, jennings girlfriend” you blushed at this statement, the crowd giggled and ‘ouuu’ed. jimmy rubbed his hands together, getting excited at the upcoming topic of discussion.

“so, your romance on season one was steamy” you thought back to the scenes you did together. all of the kissing, which felt normal at this point. he wasn’t a bad kisser, in fact- you didn’t mind it at all. your romance through the season built up to a sex scene, your mind flashed through the memories of filming it.

filming those scenes isnt half as steamy as you think it is. it’s awkward, you laugh a lot. you had never felt that exposed in your life! however watching it was different, it looked so real, so perfect.

you blurred out your thoughts, mr. fallon still speaking on the subject. “can we expect more -“ jimmy searched for your ship name, it was on the tip of his tongue. the combination of your first names on the show didn’t make an attractive combo. it was either jarker or pennings. your last names matched a little better.

“-carlow” jaeden finished for him. jimmy nodded and smiled “yes- carlow- can we expect more carlow next season?” you both looked at each other and smiled. the writers for the show already had the next four seasons laid out. you knew that carlow was a continuing relationship on the show.

“yes, you should expect more of that sort of content from us” you stated. the people in the crowd had a positive responce to this, the applause lapping until it died out once again.

“right, your characters have so much chemistry in the show. two struggling teens just trying to break even.” jaeden agreed “yes, our characters balance each other out, and being from the same background helps them associate. jennings is kind of a bad boy-as the ladies say- he’s a felon, he steels cars and sells them to counterfeit manufacturers and dealers for money. parker, y/n’s character, has a job at a diner. she shows him the light at the end of the tunnel if he chooses to go down a good path.”

“yes, parker gets jennings a job at the diner with her, and he falls for her sweet disposition even after everything she’s been through” you add.

jimmy licks his lips and pops another question: “so id imagine the chemistry in the show heightens the real life thing?” he cocked an eye brow, the group gasping at the intrusiveness.

“jaeden and i are just friends” you blurt out, your nerves working up again. it was hard, you liked jaeden ever since you had your first kiss with him.

“y-yeah” he stutters, he obviously wasn’t expecting this either “friends” jimmy shakes his head and puts his finger on his lip “recently, you both have been showing a lot of pictures of you two together on social media.”

the audience ‘awwwed’ at the photos that displayed behind you. on the screen, there were pictures of you and him that were on both of your instagrams. you two at gardens, getting food, even watching movies at each other’s houses.

“for just friends, these photos looks intimate , wouldn’t you say” a bunch of ‘yes’’s and ‘mhm’’s came from the crowd as both of your faces became red.

“we’re just best friends, honestly” jaeden laughed nervously, he fixed his hair with his hand has he always does.

“right right- can you tell me when this photo is from?” jimmy asked, the last picture flashing on the screen. it was of you both, you had just filmed your first scene together.

the first scene you filmed together was episode two, he saved you after you fell into ice cold water. it was how the characters met, and it was filmed at a cove on a windy august day.

the picture was a little blurry, but it added character. he had his arm around you, both of your hair soaked, and you share a huge towel. you remember how cold you were, your teeth chattered so rapidly. his hair was stuck to his forehead and more small pieces went up. and your lips were almost purple, half from the makeup, half because you swore that was the coldest water you had ever went in.

“that’s from when we first started filming, it was the first time we met in the show” you recited, re living the memory in your head. you remember jaeden pulling your head into his chest when the wind began blowing. you remember his thumb trying to create friction on your back to make you just a little warm.

“yes yes- you two look so adorable!” jimmy squealed, he was the most teenage-girl-grown-man you had ever met. his hand opened one of the drawers in the faux desk he sat behind, pulling out a small blue camcorder.

the camcorder.

you know how on tv shows, there is special footage? sometimes it’s just behind the scene specials but sometimes- sometimes - it’s footage the actors document when they were just having fun? yeah it was one of those camcorders.

the camcorder was brought in by the two other co hosts wyatt oleff and finn wolfhard (i know this cast is sooo original not really) they played jaedens two best friends on the show. while they weren’t filming, they’d dick around and talk about stupid stuff. you’d never seen what they filmed, but you had been featured quite a few times; their by them pranking you, or invading your personal space.

you looked over at jaeden, you watched his adam’s apple bob and a thin layer of sweat flush over his face. he bounced his leg slightly, a habit he had picked up from you.

“let’s just review our material here” jimmy teased, his tongue darting out between his teeth. the video began to play, the sound was loud; assumingely for jaeden quiet voice in the tape.

the video started with wyatts unsteady hand, him and finn were running around set, they stopped at jaeden, he was playing on his phone in his trailer.

“jaeden wesley we have come for you” finn yelled. you could see jaeden shoot up from his chair. “hey guys” he waved. they talked for around a minute, jokes and all. then finn started to giggle, wyatt zoomed in on jaedens face.

“so jaeden, how’s y/n?” he chuckled, jaeden blushed “she’s ok i guess dunno.” wyatt stopped zooming in when the only thing in frame was jaedens head. “the kiss was good hm?” wyatt asked. jaeden continued to play on his phone, he nodded. “yeah, she’s pretty cute too.”

the video cut to another segment, this was filmed after the sex scene. you knew because jaeden laid on the bed you, in the same underwear that he wore during the scene. the boys were jumping on the bed, and jaeden took the camera and talked to it.

“this is for memory and memory ONLY! h-hey y/nnn” he was talking to the camera like it was you “you’re amazing and cool” you could hear finn explode into laughter as he stole the camera back and started running “yeah! and he wants your babies and loves you so much-“ “SHUT UP FINN!!!” and jaeden chased him around.

the video was taken off the screen. your face had become close to ghostly white. it was weird, it was almost like he was dumb enough to think finn wouldn’t give jimmy this blackmail goldmine. you looked at jaeden, he hit his bottom lip until it was red, he itches his neck and laughed it off.

“yeah ok-ok jimmy, maybe i liked her back in the day” jaeden tried so hard to be casual, but jimmy hit him with a heart stopper: “but mr martell, the last clip was filmed less then a month ago!”

your mind flickered with memories and ideas of him.

your first time meeting, how good his hand felt in yours. when you wiped icecream off his chin, and him dotting icecream on to the top of your nose. the way his hair always fell perfectly above his eye brow. and SHIT how he always smelt so fucking good. how he let you fall asleep in his arms and how he never complained when you put on some stupid romcom and-

“y/n?” jimmy questioned. “huh?” you spaced, come on y/n you gotta stop doing that. “i asked how you felt about all of this.” “well, there isn’t a right word i can use.”

jaeden took this has a bad reaction, he did a small wave to the crowd and stood up to get off the stage.

you stood up, grabbed his hand, and laid one right on him. kissing him felt normal, but now that there was emotion behind it, it just felt so right.

you both stopped for air, the crowd went wild. jimmy was clapping too, you could barley hear them, your heart was pumping throughout your whole body. you swore jaeden could hear it.

after the show, you sat in your dressing room for a bit, contemplating the events of tonight, and how they were all broadcasted for your embarrassment. but it was only the beginning. only the beginning of what was to come for mr. and mrs. jaeden martell.

#jaeden martell #jaeden martell fic #jaeden martell x reader #jaeden martell fluff #jaeden wesley #jaeden lieberher #jaeden #jaeden fic #bill denbrough #bill denbrough x you #bill denbrough fanfic #it move #imagine #it fanfiction #aged up

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lin-nin · 4 years

Note

Headcanons for maybe they cause the reader's death? Like in an accident / generally not on purpose. Maybe they're in the middle of a battle and when they try to strike their opponent, their s/o is shoved in front and is the one that they hit instead? I just want angst :DD. Maybe for Techno, Schlatt, Dream, and Bad? Thanks!

heaOOOH ANON, YOU KNOW ME SO WELL. I LOVE WRITING ANGST ITS CHEFS KISS MWAH. I WILL GLADLY WRITE YOU SOME ANGST LOVIE. THESE ALSO CAME OUT MORE LIKE MINI ONE-SHOTS Warnings: Death, Gore, Coerced Suicide (BadBoyHalo)

Techno accidentally killing his S/O

Techno was always so easily caught up in battle. The way the voices chanted and demanded blood, he was quick to give in in the heat of the moment. Doomsday was no different, truly. Hell, he was eager for doomsday, and you had been too. You wanted to cause the chaos. It was only when you were off of the obsidian grid, moving to take down whoever you could with your axe. You and Techno didn’t always keep an eye on each other in the field. You just checked in on one another after, tending to the other as needed. He mainly checked in on you, as you often suffered the worst injuries in battle. You hadn’t heard his rocket launcher fire, ears full of the ringing and chaos and explosions of battle. No, you didn’t realize it until you had moved towards his target, the firework hitting you square in the back.

Techno swore everything was in slow motion then. The way your body flung into Tommy, slipping onto his sword that he had raised in the process to counter you. It impaled you, and he couldn’t see the look on your face. The voices in his head screamed and he was moving without thought, your name spilling from his lips, barely audible over the roar of battle. Tommy looked stunned, letting himself get shoved away once the older man came over, cradling you. You were covered in blood, seeping through your wound and shirt. He didn’t realize he was crying until you shushed him, reaching up to cradle his face.

“Don’t worry,” you had reassured, wiping at his tears and only managing to smear blood over the fur there. “This isn’t my last life. We have plenty of time together, just wait a few days. I’ll be back.” You would cough, making blood spurt from your lips as it bubbled into your throat. Techno could only helplessly watch as the remnants of you life drained from your eyes. This would put you on your final life.

The rest of doomsday was spent relentlessly slaughtering everyone who even looked at him wrong. He was inconsolable. When he returned to his cabin, and you finally came back- with new scars from both the firework and Tommy’s sword, he quickly deteriorated again. He struggled to voice how he felt- that it was his fault that you had been tossed into the blade and killed. He did, however, become fiercely protective of you. He would constantly give you armor and repair it, making sure you were fed and your weapons were the best. For whenever he would allow you back into battle and chaos.

Schlatt accidentally killing his S/O

Schlatt never had many on his side. You, though? You were always there for him. Originally a body guard he had hired, only to find a best friend and lover in you. A confidante. You may not have approved of each of his decisions, but you still protected him. He wasn’t necessarily a fighter, preferring to play the role of puppet master. You acknowledged that when it came to battle, you were a puppet.

It inevitably had already cost you two of your lives. You had no idea if it was intentional or not.

It was when Pogtopia came to attack that you were worried. Schlatt hadn’t been looking good. He had been drinking so much, seeming distant. Withdrawn. Even though you loved him, you struggled to get through to him. You stood at his side as you watched the chaos, gripping the hilt of your sword. Prepared to deflect at any given moment.

Tommy had found the pair of you first, and you easily preoccupied yourself with countering him. Only to feel yourself get whipped around, Schlatt’s hand familiar on your arm. Just for an arrow to lodge itself into your windpipe. You choked and gasped, feeling the blood invade your throat. Had you been warned, you could have put up your shield. Which had clattered to the ground with your sword. You had expected him to be pulling you from danger. Not putting you into it.

“No, no, no, stop it. Don’t you fucking die on me. Don’t you dare!” His voice rung in your ears. It was denial. So full of denial. As if the arrow in your windpipe had sobered him entirely. “This wasn’t supposed to happen. Stop! Fucking stop, you can’t leave. You aren’t allowed!” You gazed up to him with a weak smile, resting one hand on top of his.

“I won’t.... leave without you.... Don’t.... leave me waiting,” Your words were choked, interrupted by bubbling gasps. You would pause to cough up blood, gagging and choking on it with each breath and word. He dropped your body when you stopped breathing, standing up with his jaw set and an ache in his chest he didn’t want to identify. He didn’t keep you waiting, surrendering in the battle before succumbing to his failing health. The afterlife, though cold, was a little warmer and more humorous with him there.

Dream accidentally killing his S/O

Dream loved you with a passion so fierce it felt like the flames from the fire of it would often engulf you. The protection he gave to you, the way he often spoke to you or held you. It wasn’t bad, it was just always much fiercer than you ever anticipated. This translated to everything, too. He fiercely encouraged you to fight with him, but not to the point of getting yourself killed.

You weren’t always too good at following those words.

You had lost your first life fighting against L’Manberg. Not a direct cause from Dream, though. Just carelessness on your behalf. After that, he hovered near you during fights. Making sure you didn’t die. You didn’t mind. It at least showed how much he loved you, right?

Of course, he said all he cared about was the discs. When questioned about you, despite his hesitance, he had insisted you meant nothing to him with the same ferocity as before. It had hurt, cutting deeper than any blade before. You left, with Sapnap and George. You didn’t know where that had left the two of you, but you knew you couldn’t be near him and his delusions.

It’s how you ended up against him on Doomsday, staring him down atop the grid. The wind whipped at you and he pointed his crossbow at you. You didn’t blink, even as it loosed and shot the bolt into your leg. You had lost your balance, tumbling off of the grid with encouragement from the wind. You had narrowly missed the edge of the growing crater, thankful for the protection of your armor.

Only for the explosives raining down to knock the land from beneath you. You were sent tumbling down into the crater, landing on your neck. You had no recollection of it, no understanding of the horror he felt at watching you fall from such a height. He didn’t need to be told it was fatal. He hated himself for it. For what he had caused. Because, despite his words, he did still love you.

It wasn’t until you visited him in the prison, a nervous twitch in your hands as result from the fall, staring him down, it came crashing down on him. He had ruined you. “I wish he killed you. I wish I could kill you.” Your voice was cold, and you raised your hand to demonstrate the constant tremor caused by the neurological damage. You couldn’t kill him if you tried. You could barely hold a sword.

“I would deserve it.”

Bad accidentally killing his S/O

(Warning for suicide coercion)

You absolutely adored Bad. And He, you. That much was obvious. Life with him was fairly good, too. Mostly peaceful, and pleasant. The occasional bits of chaos, but so long as it didn’t directly affect you, you didn’t care. It usually didn’t, and you were content with that. Content to help others and stay neutral as needed. Until the appearance of the egg, of course.

You hated it. It made you uncomfortable, in a way that had your head ringing and chest feeling tight. You would avoid it as much as possible. You only came to dislike it more as it affected Bad. The way he didn’t make himself seem so small anymore, towering to his full height. The way he would kill a person over the egg, if it told him to. It was all so much.

Yet at the end of the day, he always came back to you and seemed almost like your Bad. Almost.

“Cupcake, give it a chance,” Bad had insisted one day, pulling you towards where the egg was. Even if you wanted to fight him on it, you couldn’t. Not physically.

“Bad, I told you. I don’t like it, it makes me feel... wrong.” This hadn’t been the first time the two of you spoke of this. Yet he insisted. The two of you had bickered until he tugged you into the building, unceremoniously pushing you towards the drop. Despite your protests, you fell in. Everything immediately felt wrong as you came close to it, the whispers of it not new. You had heard them before.

Yet it was vile as always, causing you to claw at the room in attempt to leave. Until it was all too much. There was one way out of this that you could see, even if it would cost you dearly. You sought out the vines of the egg, using them to rid yourself of your current life, much to the egg’s encouragement.

When you were free, you were different, the patterning of the vine clearly visible on your neck. You had packed up all of your important things, leaving Bad a note and going as far away from the influence of the egg as possible. Bad was clearly distraught upon finding the note. He looked for you for a long while, but always came back to the egg. At least, if the egg helped him bring peace to the entire place, he could get you back. Right? That was the newest goal. Bring peace and bring you back to him.

#Anonymous #badboyhalo #dream #schlatt #technoblade #technoblade x reader #schlatt x reader #dream x reader #badboyhalo x reader #tw suicide #tw death #tw gore #headcanon

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leossmoonn · 4 years

Text

Second Chance

masterlist

pairing - carl gallagher x fem!reader

type - fluff, lil angst

note / request - “hi! can we get a carl x reader during like season 10. they were together in the past and they broke up, but hang out everyday. but carl still likes her so he tries getting her back.” this is so trash lmao, but enjoy!

summary - you and carl dated a while back, but now are just friends. he spends the day with you, hoping to win you back

warnings - language, underage drinking, suggestive content but no real smut

————

*gif isnt mine*

“Hey, C-Bear!” You called out.

“‘Sup, Y/n/n!” Carl smiled at you. You ran up the stairs of his porch and gave him a tight hug.

“How was Florida?” Carl asked once you pulled back.

“Hot as shit, but fun. How was Chicago?” You asked a giggle.

“Same old,” he shrugged.

You looked at your best friend and smiled. “So, what’re we gonna do today? It is the last day of summer.”

“I was thinking of just hanging out here. It’s too hot to do anything,” Carl shrugged.

You nodded, “Sounds good.”

You two walked into Carl’s house. You saw Franny on the couch with Debbie.

“Hey, Debs. Hi, Fran-Fran!” You squealed and went over to Franny.

“Y/n!” Franny exclaimed.

“How have you been, squirt?” You asked the little girl, picking her up in your arms.

“Good,” she smiled widely. “Good,” you smiled.

Carl looked at you while talking to Franny, absolutely mesmerized.

You and Carl had dated the previous summer. You two had a good run. You lasted for 6 months before Carl had met a girl named Anne at his job. You noticed him slipping away slowly everyday. It broke your heart and you knew that you had to end it. Carl obviously didn’t realize he was falling in love with someone else, so you sat him down and told him you were breaking up with him. It hurt like a bitch for you, but you knew it was for the best so you wouldn’t end up getting more hurt in the end. You handled it maturely, telling him that you two could still be friends no matter what. You two were friends way before you dated, anyways.

Carl handled it differently, though. He was angry at you for accusing him for falling in love with another girl. He cursed at you, stormed out of your car, and didn’t talk to you for 2 weeks. You missed him, but you were kind of thankful he left you alone.

In those 2 weeks, you were able to rediscover your self worth. You managed to convince yourself that Carl was just like every other guy at your age; stupid. You knew you were hot shit and if he didn’t want you, then that was his loss.

Even though you said this to yourself everyday, the hurt feelings didn’t stop. It took you a good 2 months to stop thinking about Carl and Anne together, him possibly cheating on you while he was on the job. You finally got over all the anxious thoughts and were happier now. You’d never admit it, but you were still in love with Carl, and you knew that he was the one, but the one that got away.

Those 2 weeks for Carl were absolute hell. He missed you so much and started to pull away from Anne. Pulling away from Anne made him realize that you were right. That he was slowly falling in love with another woman, but he also realized that he loved you more. He took those 2 weeks to straighten himself up. He did pep-talks with himself, had his brothers help him out in what to do. They gave him hell for letting you go. Even they knew you were the one for him and reminded him of it everyday.

Carl called you up after those two weeks and you agreed to try and be friends. It was hard for the first month, for both of you. You two were quiet and awkward when you hung out. You wouldn’t even hug him goodbye when you left his house, much less a high-five. But, it gradually got easier. You two saw each other more and fell into a comfortable rhythm, which consisted of you ignoring your feelings of love for him, and Carl acknowledging his feelings for you, always thinking of ways to get you back, but none of them working out.

Now it was a year later and you two were back to being best friends like you were before you started dating. You had pushed the feelings you had for Carl away so much, it was barely there anymore. It was the opposite for Carl, he was still so deeply in love with you. So now that it was the last day of summer, he had planned to spend the whole day with you, try and woo you and get you back.

“Are you hungry?” Carl asked, grabbing back your attention.

You nodded. “Starving.”

“I think we have some cookies we can bake, right Debs?” Carl asked his sister.

“I think so. We also have decorating icing, too,” Debbie said.

“Great! What kind of cookies do you guys have?” You asked, going over to the kitchen. “Just chocolate chip, I think. Maybe sugar cookies?” Debbie said.

You hummed and looked in their fridge and found two rolls of chocolate chip and sugar cookies.

“Found ‘em!” You exclaimed excitedly.

Carl went into the kitchen with you, smiling at the happy expression you had on your face.

“Help me put them on a tray?” You asked.

Carl nodded and went next to you. He took the sugar cookie roll and broke it into pieces. Debbie walked over to the kitchen, taking a seat, wanting to catch up with you.

“So, why did you guys do in Florida?” Debbie asked.

“Went swimming, went to Universal Studios. We went to a lot of nice restaurants. I met a few cute guys there, too,” you smiled.

“Ooh, really?” Debbie smirked. “Any that stuck?”

“This one kid named Josh. We played volleyball on the beach for a while. He told me he liked my swim suit,” you smirked.

“Did you two hook up,” Debbie asked.

Carl tensed at her words. He hoped you would say no. You weren’t like someone to jump into things like that so fast. Sure, you had a few boyfriends before Carl, but he knew that you took time in getting to know him. Plus, your first time was with him.

“Nah. I’m pretty sure he had a girlfriend. There was a girl on the beach that kept glaring at me and hanging onto his arm. I even saw them kiss a few times,” you snorted.

“Wow, he sounds like an ass,” Debbie said.

“Yep. That’s why I rejected his kind offer to fuck,” you laughed.

“Atta girl,” Debbie gave you a high-five.

“Yeah, I didn’t really feel like becoming the talk of the town or whoever those people lived,” you chuckled.

"It’s good you said no,” Carl chimed in.

“Oh, yeah, why? Besides the obvious,” you raised a brow.

“Because it’s not you to hook up randomly,” Carl said.

“Are you implying I’m a prude,” you chuckled.

“No, no. I just... you waited until we dated to fuck, I-”

“Yeah, yeah,” you cut Carl off. You moved to put the cookies in the oven. Carl couldn't see it, but you were very flustered.

Him mentioning your romantic past brought up memories. These memories were the ones you didn’t mind remembering. They just made your legs weak heart swell.

Carl was right, you did wait until you two were dating to have sex. You wanted it to be special and even though you two were just friends at the time, before you two were dating, you knew that sex with him would be special. And to your delight, it was. He was gentle, sweet, loving. He payed attention to you the whole time. It was one of the things you knew would live in your memory forever.

“You waited?” Debbie asked. “Yeah,” you stood back up and shrugged.

“Wow, I wish I had your self control,” Debbie snorted.

“It wasn't about self control. It was just knowing who was right for me,” you said. Your gaze fell on Carl as you said those words.

He had a small on his face, to which you returned. Your heart fluttered at the sight, which made you avert your gaze immediately. Even though you didn’t mind the memories, you did mind the feelings they and him brought. As much as you hated to admit it, a part of you was still attracted to him.

That part of you was the one you constantly had to push away. You had to remind yourself what he did. How he fell in love with another girl. How he let go someone good, kind, so loving and supportive. You knew if you let that other part of you invade your mind and feelings, you would be in his bed making out with him and possibly getting hurt, which was something you didn’t want.

“How long do these have to bake?” Carl asked.

“Like 15-20 minutes,” you said. He nodded and put his tray in the oven.

“Wanna watch a movie?” Carl asked.

“Sure,” you nodded.

“I’m gonna go and meet Claudia. Watch Franny for me?” Debbie asked.

“I’d love to!” You smiled. You loved Franny. She was such an easy and good kid to watch. She took care of herself, too, so all you had to do was make her food whenever she was hungry.

“Great, thank you. I’ll see you guys later!” Debbie smiled and left the house.

“Franny, do you wanna watch a movie with us?” You asked the little girl.

“Yeah!” She smiled.

“Great! What movie do you want to watch?” You asked.

Carl smiled at you as you talked to Franny. Seeing you play with Franny was one of the things that made him fall in love with you. Seeing a girl good with kids was attractive as hell.

“She wants to watch Sleeping Beauty,” you said and walked over with Franny to the couch.

“Alright. I’ll put in the DVD,” Carl said.

“Thanks,” you smiled.

He smiled back at you and nodded. You sat on the couch, Franny sitting next to you. Carl walked back to the couch and groaned internally. He was planning on sitting next to you so you could lay your head on his shoulders whenever you go tired, which was something you did during every movie you two watched together. But now you couldn’t do that because Franny was sitting in the middle.

“What’s wrong, C-Dog?” You noticed his annoyance.

“Nothing. I’ve just watched this movie a billion times,” he sighed.

“That's what you get for having a little child in the house,” you chuckled and turned your attention over to the movie.

About 20 minutes in the movie, the oven beeped, singling that the cookies were done.

“Franny, do you want to decorate cookies or watch the movie?” You asked while getting up.

“I wanna watch the movie,” she said.

“Alright, kid. Don’t cause any trouble in here. Aunt Y/n and Uncle Carl will be in the kitchen,” you said and patted her head.

She giggled and you left to go to the kitchen with Carl.

“You’re really good with her,” Carl complimented you.

“Thank you. I have two little brothers, so I’ve learned a thing or two about kids. You just gotta treat them like adults, but also make sure they know they’re boundaries. Franny is such a good kid, though, she doesn’t need a lot of boundaries or rules,” you explained.

Carl nodded. “Oh, yeah. How are Lucas and Lyle?”

“Trouble,” you chuckled. Carl laughed with you. “I bet not as much trouble as I was when I was little.”

“Hm, true,” you giggled, recalling memories of when you two were in elementary school.

“You’ve shaped up good, though. Military school helped with that,” you complimented.

“Thank you. You’ve always been good. Even when we broke up,” Carl remarked.

You met his eyes. A frown was plastered on your lips. “Thank you. I try not to be sour and shit. I know it gets me nowhere.”

“Yeah, I learned that the hard way,” Carl sighed, referring two his 2-week temper tantrum.

You gave him a kind smile. “It’s alright. I’m glad we stayed friends, though.”

Yeah, friends, Carl thought in dismay.

He put on a fake smile though. “Me, too.”

You went over to the cupboard and got out some decorative icing that you found. You put them on the kitchen counter and picked up a sugar cookie.

“What’re you gonna put on yours?” You asked.

“A penis,” Carl said.

You rolled your eyes, but laughed. “I take back what I said about you shaping up.”

Carl laughed with you, “Hey! Not fair. You asked me and I responded honestly.”

“True,” you giggled. You squirted some icing on Carl’s face, irrupting into a fit of laughter when it got all over the left side of his face.

“And I take back what I said about you always being mature!” Carl exclaimed, squirting some icing on you. It landed on your collar bone. Carl eyed the bare skin, licking his lips, wishing he could lick it up.

You noticed his stare. Your heart couldn’t help but race. You felt yourself start to get sweaty under your armpits. You averted your gaze and got a towel to wipe the icing off. Carl grabbed the towel out of your hands.

“Here, let me,” Carl offered. “I was the one to make the mess.” You rolled his eyes. You knew this was one of his ways of trying to flatter you and kiss you. You let him, though. You would never admit it to anyone, but you liked when he did these things. Not so much because he was still pining over you, but it reminded you of how much of a caring boyfriend he was.

You leaned against the counter while Carl wetted the towel. He gently wiped the icing of your collar bone. Your heart skipped a beat as his fingertips brushed lightly over your skin. His face was abnormally close to yours, too. He was crouched down and looked up to you every so often. It made your stomach flip. It reminded you of when he ate you out, looking up at you with his lips glistening. You averted your gaze, feeling warmth spread between your legs.

Carl was taking an annoyingly long time. You sighed heavy, hoping he would be done soon because if not, you would just end up kissing him. To your releif, he backed away from you, throwing the towel in the sink. He got another towel to wipe his face off.

Even though you looked relieved on the outside, your heart was begging for him to comeback and be close to again, to tease you.

“Did you like that?” Carl asked, smirking at you.

“No, you were very slow,” you lied. Carl frowned at you and looked away. You felt bad, but you didn’t say anything.

“Let’s finish the cookies so Franny can eat some,” you said.

Carl nodded. You two decorate the cookies in silence. You put them on plates, bringing them into the living room.

“Here, Franny,” you said and put one of the plates on the table. You sat back down, Carl following slowly after you.

You took a few cookies, giving Franny two and keeping two for yourself.

“Thank you,” Franny said.

You gave her a sweet smile. “You are very welcome.”

Carl took a couple cookies and slumped back on the couch. The tension between you two was thick. It hadn't been like this for a while, but you knew to just let it subside until you felt ready to talk again. Luckily, the movie was still going, so you had an excuse to not converse. By the end of the movie, Franny had fallen asleep. Her head was on your lap and the rest of her body was on Carl’s. When the movie was done, Carl helped you carry Franny back up to Debbie’s room. You two tucked her in and went back downstairs.

You went back into the kitchen, grabbing two beer bottles for Carl and you.

“Thanks,” Carl said when you handed him a bottle.

You hummed in reply and sat back down on the couch. You turned on the TV, switching to re-runs. Carl sat next to you, leaving lots of space in-between you two.

“How is everyone else doing?” You asked.

“Good. Lip and Tami have Freddy and Ian has Mickey,” Carl said.

“Wow, everyone is shacked up, huh?” You asked.

“Yeah, even Debbie. She gets mad money, too,” Carl chuckled.

“It’s weird the way the world works,” you remarked, half paying attention to Golden Girls. “Have you met any girls this summer?” You asked, your stomach flipping thinking about his answer.

“A few, but I’m not really interesting in dating,” Carl shrugged.

You turned to him, fully surprised. “Carl Gallagher, not interested in dating? I think the world is ending.”

Carl chuckled, “I’m just not interesting in dating the girls I met.” Carl scooted closer to you while saying those words, putting a hand on your thigh.

Your heart pounded against your ribcage. Carl was getting closer and closer to you. You didn’t move, though. You liked his touch and being in his vicinity.

“Who are you interested in dating?” You whispered.

Carl’s eyes burned into yours. They drifted down to your lips and back up to your eyes. Your body shivered and butterflies shot down your whole body. You found yourself moving closer to him, putting your hand over his.

“You,” Carl spoke.

You looked into his eyes deeply. You could tell he meant what he said. The look on his face was almost enough for you to kiss him, but you pulled away. His hand slipped off your thigh. You stood up off the couch, putting on your shoes.

“I should go. It’s late and my parents are probably wondering where I am,” you said, avoiding eye contact.

“No, stay. Your parents know where you are and probably aren’t worried. You always stay over,” Carl protested.

“I’m tired, anyways. Plus, Lucas and Lyle probably miss me,” you made up more excuses and went to the front door.

Carl ran to you and put his hand on your arm.

“Stay, Y/n. I’m not letting you go this time,” Carl said.

You turned to him, tears in your eyes. “I don’t love you anymore, Carl, not like that.”

“I know you’re lying. I’m not as dumb as people think, okay? I see it in your eyes. I notice you breathing heavily when I come close to you. I know you still love me. I still love you. I’m still in love with you,” he confessed.

“Listen, Carl,” you sighed. “I know you want to make it up to me, I appreciate it, but I’m not letting myself get hurt again.”

“I know I hurt you, Y/n. I’m so sorry for what I did. I’m stupid as shit. It hurts me every fucking time I see you. It hurt me so much to see you cry because of me. I do want to make it up to you, but I also want you back. I need you, Y/n. Please, give me a chance. I need you so fucking bad,” Carl pleaded. His voice broke and tears shined in his eyes.

You shook your head. “I said I don’t love you anymore! Let me go!” You shouted. You wanted so desperately to get out of the house because you knew if you stayed, you would end up kissing him.

“No,” Carl said. With that, he pulled you into his arms and crashed his lips on yours.

With Carl’s arms wrapped around you, holding you tight, and his soft lips on yours, you could’t help but finally give in. You melted into the kiss, putting your hands on the nape of his neck, playing with his hair. Carl slammed you against the wall, his fingertips digging into your sides. The kiss was fast, rough, passionate.

You were so glad that you gave in. You missed this feeling more than you would ever admit.

Carl pulled away, putting his hand on your cheek. His thumb ran across your bottom lip. His eyes stared into yours.

“Give me another chance. I promise I won’t hurt you again,” Carl promised.

You sighed and nodded. You knew he had good intentions, and that he was the one for you. “You better not. Or I will beat you up.”

Carl smiled, pulling you into another deep kiss.

————

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catxsnow · 3 years

Text

FREE FALLING K.K.

Request: Okay some anons were simping over kon now I wanna simp~ y/n is an archer on the teen Titans , and she tends to be shy and on the reserved side, so when kon flirts she just dismisses him every time, until another guy ( superhero or civilian, you choose ) gets flirty and he gets made protective/jealous.

Warning: fluff

A/N: I’m slowly running out of already written fics and my motivation has not come back yet. This hiatus may be lasting longer than I thought.

Word Count: 2.3k

There was nothing wrong with a little bit of flirting within the team. It kept the bond of teammates close and always kept everyone on their toes. The dynamic on the Teen Titans was always one of ups and downs. There was such an entanglement of potential relationships that everyone got confused as to what was going on.

Most of that confusion stemmed from Conner Kent, Superboy as the team knew him as. His temporary relationship with Cassie had surprised everyone. He flirted with nearly everyone on the team, Tim, Kori, you. Kon's endless flirting began the day Oliver dropped you off at the Titans Tower and left you there for good.

Kon was frustrating in the sense that his flirtation with you was nonstop. From the moment you woke up to the moment you went back to sleep, it seemed that his only mission was to get you flustered. It didn't seem that he knew that you were bothered by his comments.

Tim always scolded Kon for his behaviour. After Cassie, it was clear that relationships among teammates was dangerous. Not to mention that it was pretty obvious of your blatant ignorance of his attempts. He continued to try nonetheless - one day you would crack for him, one day.

"Good morning, sweetheart." Kon was never an early riser. At the farm, he always got up early for chores, so at the tower he took every chance to sleep in. When he started to learn that you got up early, so did he. There was always the tired look in her eyes that he admired.

Kon found you down at the range. Though your skills were nowhere near Oliver, or even Roy, you put up a good fight just as much as everyone else on this team. The early hours were always dedicated to practice, and unfortunately, Kon figured that out pretty quickly.

You were so concentrated on the shot, you hadn't heard Kon's heavy footsteps join you. The shot went askew, completely missing the target. Your body tensed with frustration at him.

"Whoops, sorry babe. Didn't realize my good looks distracted you so much," Kon grinned. You refused to show him his words got you flustered. Instead, you grabbed another arrow. Babe. It slipped so smoothly off his tongue that it forced a chill down your spine.

"It's fine, Superboy," you assured him - though you were still angered at him for screwing around with your training once again. Kon leaned against the rack that held your bows. His arms rested on the top, head on his hands. His curls were still a mess from his sleep last night.

You felt your arm shake for a split second. His eyes watching your every move, waiting for you to make the perfect shot just as you always did. There was a lot of pressure on you with his gaze. You took a breath before releasing the arrow, watching as it hit dead center of the target. It was easy, hitting a non-moving target like this. Kon was the one making it difficult.

"Superboy?" He cocked an eyebrow. "We aren't on a mission babe, you can call me Kon you know. I'd prefer it." Of course he would, he loved the sound of his name passing your lips. It was almost angelic. "You know-"

"(Y/N), Conner," Tim's head popped into the training room before Kon could tell you what he wanted. His chest fell with a disappointed sigh. "Nightwing and Flash are here."

"Is there something wrong?" You asked. They rarely showed up out of the blue without there being a reason. Usually, that reason meant that people were in trouble and lives were at stake. Tim relieved your stress with a simple shake of his head. He gestured for the both of you to follow him. Kon stuck his hand out for you to hand over the bow so he could hang it up on the rack he leaned on.

A small smile cracked as your hand brushed against his. It was cheesy, ridiculously so, but his touch was so warm and inviting even if it was just for a brief second. Kon placed the bow down and followed you and Tim out of the room. Just as Robin said, his older brother and his friend were with the others in the meeting room.

Wally's presence always lightened the room. There was something about the smile that resided on him that managed to put everyone in a good mood. It always amplified whenever Dick was at his side. The two were a dynamic pair, and when they did stop by the tower without underlying business, it was always a good time.

There were a few times that you had been alone in the tower. Tim back to Gotham, Kon and Cassie to their own homes as well. It left you and Bart with no one but yourselves to keep each other company. In those times, Wally would sometimes make an appearance. The speedsters would train but by the end of the night you would all be piling high with snacks.

As you entered the room, Wally waved at you and that smile that everyone looked forward to was released. Before you could wave back, a heavy arm was thrown across your shoulder. Kon was at your side. It wasn't the first time he had completely invaded your bubble and it surely wouldn't be the last.

"Flash, Nightwing," he greeted. You could feel the heat crawling up your neck with Kon's side pressed against yours. Hopefully, he, nor any of your other teammates, noticed your state. It was beyond annoying that he could get you like this. "What's the visit for this time? Scolding us for saving the day again?"

He dropped his arm from your shoulders but remained close to you. Kryptonians must have ran warm because you could still feel the lingering heat of his body against you.

"JL wanted an update, figured we could stop in," Wally answered. He sped over to your side and placed a hand over your ear so no one else could hear. "And Boy Wonder over there is in trouble with the Bats." Clearly, Kon heard what the speedster had to say and let out a laugh. What could Tim have done to get himself in trouble?

"Doesn't explain why you came," you joked. Wally had mimicked Kon's arm-over-the-shoulder.

"Wanted to come see you, of course," Wally grinned. His arm suddenly locked around your neck and his knuckles rubbed into your head. You struggled to pull him off you. Finally, you had managed to hook his ankle and make him fall flat on his back. "Look at that, you're making me lose my breath."

The laughter among teammates emitted from everyone besides Kon. He had an annoyed look on his face from the interaction between you and Wally, though he said nothing about it. Wally sped back up, a slight tinge of pink to his cheeks after the interaction.

Kon watched in frustration as Wally dragged you into the kitchen, likely to find himself a snack or two. Your laughs always put a bit of joy in him, but now? Hearing you laugh because of Wally? Each sound was like a knife to the heart. Pure jealously ran through him - why was it that he could never make you laugh like that?

"Calm down, Kon," Tim stood by his side. It was clear to anyone, even when they weren't raised by the great Batman, that Kon was incredibly jealous of Wally. It was only Tim that decided to speak up. "There's nothing between them. No need to be jealous."

"I'm not," Kon snapped. His reaction was enough to prove that he was in fact jealous. He let out a huff of air before walking away from his best friend. Unfortunately, the further he got from Tim, the closer he got to you and Wally just to hear the sound of your laughter once more. His chest tightened with anger.

It wasn't at Wally, nor you. It was at himself for not being able to get you out of your comfort zone as the speedster could. Since joining this team it seemed he was the only one that you remained shy and nervous around. What was wrong with him to make you feel that way?

What was wrong with him that made you not want to spend time with him?

"There you are."

Kon disappeared shortly after you left with Wally (and eventually Bart who couldn't stay away at the smell of food). Tim was with Dick all afternoon and Cassie spent her time training with Kori. Kon was nowhere to be found, and you couldn't figure out why he felt the need to leave his friends.

You searched the whole building for him, starting down at the training grounds and working your way all the way up to the roof of the buildings. He was sitting on the edge, legs dangling as the last rays of the sun fell from the sky.

Kon folded into himself: shoulders hunched, head hung low. He perked up at the sound of your voice - even more so when he saw that you were alone. You sat next to him and matched his sitting position.

"Were you up here all day?" You asked. Kon nodded, though he remained silent. It wasn't like him to skip out on a pickup line or make some sort of comment. In fact, it wasn't like him to just disappear the whole day either. He looked upset about something. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing." Kon was a horrible liar. You raised your eyebrows at him, indicating that you knew he was lying through his teeth. He sighed, leaning back so his palms pressed into the rough roofing. The golden rays illuminated him, creating an aura around him that made him seem godly. You wanted to reach out to him, but contained yourself.

The sunset was beautiful enough as it was, but to add Kon's beauty on top of that? Your heart was beating so fast you were sure that Kon's super hearing had him concerned.

"You don't have to lie around me, you know," You nudged his side. Kon sighed once more. He didn't want to tell you the truth, but he felt terrible for lying and making you worry. You were quick to notice a pink tinge on his cheeks. It was a turn of events, usually you were the one flustered around him. The hue looked pleasant on him.

"I'm sorry," he suddenly apologized, "I... Well, I guess..." Kon fumbled over his words. The pink on his cheeks grew brighter, even as he tried to hide it from you. There was never a day you thought you would get to see the great Superboy flushed like this. He was always the confident one. "Fuck."

Kon's hand grasped your cheeks. His split moment of hesitance made you realize exactly what he was about to do. Whether it be frozen in fear or excitement, you didn't try to move. The closer he got the harder your heartbeat until the point as if it felt like you were going to burst. The moment Kon's lips were on yours it felt as if it stopped altogether.

His kiss was soft, hesitant - nothing like the facade he always had up. Kon was delicate with you, as if he was worried he was going to break you with just a touch. Your lips moved against his with far more confidence than you had ever shown him before. You didn't realize how badly you craved for his taste until the moment you had it.

He pulled away only for a second, waiting to see if you were wanting him to quit completely. With no sign of regret, Kon pulled you in for a rushed kiss. His lips needy against yours, making up for the lost time that he wasted months on. It was only when his lungs felt like they were going to combust did he give you space.

"I-" His palm remained against the curve of your neck and jaw, thumb swiping against your cheekbone. "I was jealous today, of Wally. I've never heard you laugh so hard when you're with him and I wanted that. I'm sorry."

"You have no reason to be sorry, Superboy," you assured him. He couldn't stop his feelings, just as you couldn't deny them anymore. "I-I'm sorry I was always so distant with you. I... I guess I was too scared to admit my feelings for you."

Kon was ready to spill his heart out to you. He knew that once he started gushing about how much he adored you, he wouldn't be able to stop. Instead, he leaned into you again, smiling into your kiss with pure excitement.

His legs that dangled off the edge pushed against the siding of the building and pulling you along with him. A strangled scream ripped from your throat as the two of you free fell in the darkening sky. Kon's arm wrapped around your waist and he held you flush against his body.

Your head was buried into the crook of his neck until realizing that you were no longer falling but floating. The grip on his shirt loosened and you looked up to appreciate the new view he gave you.

Kon brushed his lips against yours once more, just to grab your attention. "Don't worry babe, I've got you. There's no need to worry whenever you're with me."

Taglist: @pricetagofficial @mora-miserium @babymango-writes @redrobin-yumm @simp-is-what-i-am @catsofsmoke @subtleappreciation @officiallydarkgeek @spiitfiires @pinkdiamond1016 @childish-kiwi @givetimdrakeacoffee @gunnedrobin @local-fandom-trashcan @bikoncon @foenixphire

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theamberwriter · 4 years

Note

Hi so remember “ Nesting Fever [Alpha!Pro!Katsuki Bakugo]” that you wrote? I hope so cause what if you made a part 2 were it becomes a poly relationship!!!

[Nesting Fever]

A/N: Thank you so much for requesting!! I wrote this all in one sitting, lol I was suddenly hit with inspiration. I hope you like it!! Also, I hope this comes off as a poly relationship. I've never written one before, but I tried!

Word Count: 3,059

Warnings: Always cursing lmfao

It was wrong. You could feel it. You knew what you wanted. But it was wrong. You scolded yourself over and over. This had been going on for months. Far too long and more than you'd like to admit.

"I shouldn't want both of their scents in here," you groaned, flinging yourself into your nest.

After the nesting conundrum that took place in your apartment just seven short months ago, your everything had changed. Kirishima had become a very big part of your life. After scenting him to spite Katsuki during a fight, he now seemed determined to win you. Even if he didn't notice. Eijiro basically lived in your house now.

He made you feel safe. His scent soothed you in just a whiff. You almost felt like you were falling in love all over again. You didn't love Katsuki any less. But you were falling in love with Eijiro. You wondered if maybe you'd always been. He was so easy to fall in love with, after all.

The intrusive thoughts you'd had about your new house guest had been growing. Before, they were peppered in. Just an occasional thing. Easy to brush off. But now you'd been properly fantasizing about how he tasted. About how his hands would feel against the skin that only Katsuki and yourself had ever touched.

You wondered how he'd fit in with your family. How they'd react to you having not one, but two Alphas. You wondered if you were being greedy, wanting them both. But you did, vehemently so.

This was not good.

How could you explain that to your mate of a year and a half? The man you'd been talking about marrying? How could you tell him that you were still head over heels for him - while also loving Kirishima the same way? What would he even think about that?

"I could never ask Katsuki...." you muttered. "He would never...."

But the fact that your boyfriend had had a little crush on Kirishima was never a secret. Not to you, at least. He claimed it was because they were best friends. But you didn't act like that with normal friends. Maybe Katsuki wouldn't be opposed....but would he be willing to share an omega? That was the kicker.

Alphas were possessive. They wanted what they wanted, and who was theirs was theirs. The two had been at each other's throats over you. Alpha vs Alpha. Could you really ask them to share you?

Kirishima was a near permanent fixture in your home now. He had never been in the way. In fact, it felt like a piece clicked into place. Your home had felt brighter and been filled with more laughter. Everything was amazing - when the two were behaving.

But the tense air between the two alphas was choking. There were times they both let their guards down. Times when you already felt like you had a dynamic. Those times were amazing. You leaned on Katsuki and Kirishima cuddled against you. Katsuki and Eijiro would act couplely, even when they hadn't meant to. You wanted to just smother them both in kisses.

But you couldn't.

What were you going to do?

You groaned loudly and threw a pillow at the door. A burst from your quirk made it hit harder than you intended. In a flash the door was open and the warm, delicious mixed scent of Katsuki and Eijiro flooded in. They were very alert. Their eyes were wide, scanning for danger.

"The hell is going on?" Katsuki snapped. His shoulders were tense, the tendons in his neck standing out. He was a coiled snake ready to pounce.

Eijiro hesitated in the door. You caught as he stepped forward then immediately retreated. "Are you okay?"

You sighed heavily. "I'm fine. Just...having some issues. - Katsssuuuu...."

You held your arms out and he went to fill them. He kneeled and took you tightly in his arms. He hid his face in the crook of your neck. You relaxed your arms around him.

"Something isn't right," you muttered. Then locked eyes with Eijiro. "My nest is missing something important, it isn't complete."

Eijiro froze, you could see it. Every muscle tensing. His face grew red. But he didn't break your gaze. He swirled his own pheromones in with Katsuki's, as if testing the waters. You had a feeling he caught on. You smiled, reclining your head against Katsuki's shoulder in response and taking in a large sigh.

You were going to have to talk to Eijiro about this later. Maybe, if you could get him on board, talk about your feelings, then it would be easier confessing to Katsuki. Maybe he'd even do it with you.

Eijiro bolted off and out of sight. While Katsuki held you tight. Your eyes lingered a moment longer on the door frame. You had wanted them both in your nest so badly. You wanted them both to hold you, to protect you, to tell you they love you. But it wasn't that easy.

You gave Katsuki a tight hug in return. Your nerves soothing surprisingly well, despite how conflicted you were. But this was Katsuki. The last few months, he'd been verging on an Apex Alpha. He was very conscious of everything you felt. He'd some how figured out how to turn his pheromones into the most relaxing, lulling, mouth-watering mixture. You didn't know what he'd done, but you became absolute putty in his hands in one whiff.

You always wanted to be putty in his hands. But you wanted to putty in Eijiro's too.

Katsuki relaxed you to sleep. You'd been up early anyway. You napped for a few hours. Your dreams were laced with the most potent caramel scent. But soon, a musky, warm scent invaded. And your body felt like water. You were on cloud 9. Everything, everyone, you wanted was bottle up in those two scents. You wanted this delicious mix in your life forever.

When you woke up, you heard the TV on. Along with the faint sound of sizzling. Giving a whiff, you could tell Katsuki was cooking. You tottered out , still stumbling on your slumber legs. You smiled to yourself as you looked into the room.

Katsuki stood with a pan and an apron. He was completely absorbed in whatever Eijiro was watching, even standing very close to where he was sitting. The red head was sitting in the chair you'd occupied for your little tantrum. He had his knees to his chest, totally lost in whatever was on.

It was adorable.

After a minute you yawned loudly and went in. Both of their eyes snapped to you. Eijiro grinned, but looked away quickly, his face staining red again. Katsuki smiled that in love, puppy dog smile he got when he thought no one was looking.

"There's my Omega," Katsuki cooed. "I'm making dinner, since Shitty Hair can't cook."

"I can too!" Eijiro tossed back.

Katsuki rolled his eyes. "[Name] likes my food better anyway."

They both looked at you expectantly. You felt like you shrank. You wanted to dive back into your nest. All you could think was, please don't give me those eyes!

"I like you both," you said, awkwardly laughing as you tried to fix your statement. "I think you both are really good cooks."

"Osha. Whatever," Katsuki scoffed. "Oi, you two run to the store. Get some dessert, whatever you two want."

"But you want vanilla - something, right?" you asked, more teasing than anything.

Katsuki gave you a seductive smirk, then licked the end of the spoon he was holding. "I want anything that tastes like vanilla. The sweeter, the better."

Heat coursed through you. Damn him. Katsuki gave you a wink then went back to the kitchen. You turned back to Eijiro. You saw his jaw clench, and his eyes take one desperate drag up your body. You'd never seen him do that before. You turned quickly, going to throw on some actual going out clothes.

Eijiro was bouncing anxiously by the door when you got back. He caught your eye then darted through the entry.

"We're going Katsuki," you called. "Love you, be back in a bit. Text me if you remember anything!"

"Don't you two miss me too much," he called back. "Don't make me wreck the supermarket because you idiots."

That was Katsuki for I love you too. Please be safe, I will protect you til my dying breath.

"We'll try," you laughed and shook your head.

"Oh, and ask Shitty Hair if he wants anything else in this. I already know what you'll want. Fucking predictable."

"I will. I'll text you."

Then you were out the door. Eijiro was waiting in the street below for you. His hands were stuffed into his pockets and his head was ducked. You'd really messed up, hadn't you? Maybe you should've taken it slower....

"So," you started, bumping his shoulder with yours. "What do you want for dessert."

Eijiro's eyes flicked to you then the ground. He shrugged and headed down the sidewalk. It was quiet as you walked. Tensely quiet. You hated it. Eijiro should've been his usual self. Talking happily about whatever. He couldn't even look at you.

It was wrong, but you were glad to be this close to him. To his scent. Even if it was weird right now. You'd smelt that turmoil once before, months ago as you sat on his lap and scented him. Eijiro smelt like that now.

What was he thinking?

Eijiro still hadn't said a word as you reached the store. He'd nearly walked into the door he was so distracted. He followed blindly by your side as you walked through the aisles.

"Uuuhhh," you mused. Trying to think of what to say. "Do you like bed we set up for you? I know it's not the newest mattress but -"

"What did you mean?" Eijiro asked, coming out of stupor. "About your nest?"

You were quiet. A little too ashamed to admit it out loud. What you'd meant. What you were trying to say in one longing look. You kept your eyes forward, going down one aisle then the next.

"[Name], please....it's been bugging me all day. I have a theory, but....I want you to tell me."

You stuttered and stumbled. Trying to put together a semblance of a sentence. He watched you and those crimson eyes, so much softer than Katsuki's own rubies but just as gorgeous, made you nervous. You felt like a kid with a crush who'd been called out. You supposed you were, in a way.

"I," you finally managed. "It's hard to explain. Can you feel the exact same way about two people?"

Eijiro's mouth flattened into a line. "I guess that depends on the feeling."

There was something in his scent that changed then. It egged you on. Made you braver. Something that made you think he knew exactly what you were talking about.

You slowed your pace. "Can....Can you be in love with two people at the same time and love them an equal amount?"

You saw Eijiro swallow. His whole body seemed flushed. His eyes on you intently. You met them with equal intensity. Everything felt like it balanced on a delicate scale.

"That's a very serious question," he said, his voice a low murmur.

You nodded. "It's a very serious feeling."

Eijiro grabbed your wrist, tugging you a few aisles. And then there, right in between the Chex Mix and the Honey Graham's - he kissed you. You could actually feel his heart thrumming against his chest. Yours met his pace. Then quickly your mouths found their rhythm. It was hot and needy, and he tasted just like you'd expected him too. Only better.

A slight bit of shame chewed at you as you separated. You wanted this. You wanted him to be your Alpha, along with Katsuki. Honesty, Eijiro could probably teach him a thing or two about being an Alpha.

"Do you really mean this...?" Eijiro asked, and his face was more serious than you'd ever seen.

"That's been my issue," you muttered. "I love Katsuki. To absolute bits and I'd be lost without him. But I've fallen in love with you too. I love you to bits. I'd be lost without you. I've been happier these last couple months, and I think Katsuki has been too.

"But I'm worried. An Omega isn't supposed to have two Alphas. I'm not supposed to love two people, not so deeply, anyway. And I don't know how to tell Katsuki any of it. What if he thinks I don't love him as much? What if he thinks I want to leave him?"

Eijiro chuckled, then kissed your forehead. "Who said you can only love one person at a time? And who said it was illegal to have more than one Alpha? There's a lot of amazing people in the world. You can love as many of them as you want, with as much of yourself as you want. - Maybe it's a bit unmanly to admit, but I've kinda had a thing for you both for a while. If Katsuki's down for sharing you, having it be the three of us, then so am I. I just want you both to be happy. Even if that's without me."

You shook your head, you could barely stomach the thought. "I don't think I could be happy without you both now. It's hurts to much to think of either of you leaving. I think I've been falling in love you while I was also falling for Katsuki. So don't think it's just because you're around more."

"So....what do you want to do?" Eijiro was serious again. He held you closely, as if you'd always been like this. You caught as he momentarily warned an Alpha who was eyeing you up. A little change in scent was all it took for them to turn tail.

You groaned. "I don't know. I need to tell Katsuki. If I keep this secret in, I'll burst. And it's not like I want to cheat on him with you. I want it to be the three of us. My two favorite people."

"We could sit him down tomorrow, if you want. I'll wake up early, make breakfast. And we could talk."

You nodded, Eijiro made it sound so easy. "It's as good as any. - Now we better hurry before he calls asking where we are."

You two began towards the dessert section, then silence much more comfortable now.

Eijiro knocked your shoulder. "Oh, and Katsuki was right. You know? About the vanilla."

You groaned and momentarily hid your face in your hands. If things went too, you'd now have two people embarrassing the hell out of you.

You quickly fetched your desserts and the two of you went halfsies. Mostly because Eijiro left his wallet in his other pants and could only pay with what he had on him. You'd given him another kiss for how cute he was. You remembered to ask about Eijiro's garnish on the way back.

You and Eijiro were all smiles as you got back to the apartment. You worried. Would Katsuki think something was wrong? Or that something was going on behind his back? He didn't say anything, even if he did. Dinner was amazing, as you were expecting. Every bite was an absolute thrill to the taste buds.

Maybe Katsuki should give up heroing to a full time professional chef!

After dinner, you and Eijiro offered to do dishes. It was the least you could do since Katsuki cooked. You were washing and Eijiro was drying. Katsuki leaned on the doorway between the living room and kitchen for a while.

"Hey," Katsuki started awkwardly. The dishes were nearly done. "You don't have to worry about cooking breakfast tomorrow, Ei. Butt dial here basically told me everything themselves."

The plate in your hands clattered into the sink. You and Eijiro both stared at Katsuki. He didn't look mad or anything. More amused. He held up his phone and pressed a button. The entire conversation in the cereal aisle played out, right up until the vanilla comment.

"Katsuki," you rushed, drying your hands. "I promise, I still love you all the same -"

He came and pushed a gentle kiss to your lips. Katsuki's puppy dog smile came back as his eyes bounced between you and Eijiro. He grabbed the back of Eijiro's head and pulled him to kiss his forehead. Then left wordlessly out the door.

Eijiro put a hand on his forehead. A little grin coming. Then he laughed and grabbed you, pulling you close to him. He planted a few sloppy kisses on your cheek.

So it was a yes. Everything was fine. Katsuki wanted you both like you wanted them. There was nothing wrong with you. Nothing about this was bad. It was a possibility you hadn't thought of, with a better outcome than you could've hoped for.

Later that night, after Eijiro fell asleep on you for the millionth time, you finally talked to Katsuki.

"You really don't mind?" you asked. "About sharing me? About the three of us -"

"If I was going to be stuck with any idiots forever," Katsuki started. "I rather it be you two than anyone else."

You leaned up to give him a kiss. He put a hand on your cheek. That sent butterflies raving through your stomach.

"And you may have been fucking right," he admitted hesitantly against your lips. "I....might have a stupid thing for Shitty Hair. But that doesn't mean I'll ever love you any less."

You shrugged. "Lots of love to share."

"I'm not fucking sharing you with anyone else but him," Katsuki growled. "You're still my Omega. And it doesn't matter how I feel about him, if he even thinks about hurting you -"

You shushed him. "You'll wake up Eiji."

It took you both to carry Eijiro to your bed. You figured now was as good of time as any jump head long into this. Eijiro immediately clung to you, and Katsuki squished you in between. This felt amazing. This felt right. This is where you were supposed to be. In the arms of the Alphas, of the men, that you loved more than anyone else in the universe.

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seonghwasriceball · 3 years

Text

Enhypen Reaction

To being jealous

Lee Heeseung

A difficult guy to make jealous, I think. Like, it's Lee Heeseung. It doesn't get much better than that. But, anyway, he wouldn't get jealous in a "Someone was flirting with my s/o, what if they woo them and I lose them" kind of way, but more in a "My s/o is giving someone else attention, and I want them to pay attention to me" sort of way.

You were at Enhypen's dorm to spend some time with your boyfriend, but the maknae line had called you away to play a game with them because they were tired of only interacting with people in their group. And for the first little while Heeseung was fine with it, happy even, he loved seeing that you and his group mates got along well, but after two hours, he was getting lonely. He didn't like that you were spending more time with the youngest three than with him, because you were there to spend time with him in the first place. At first, he sat in the room and stared at you for a while, hoping you'd get the hint, but when that didn't work, he went away to sulk in the bedroom. After about twenty minutes of self pity, Heeseung began to feel guilty, because he was the eldest, and therefore he should be more mature than this, and after all, they are kids. They need to interact with people, they're still growing and developing. But the way you hugged Riki when he lost a round instead of hugging him made Heeseung sad. So, instead of whining into his pillow, he texted you to ask if you'd come spend time with him any time soon, and started giggling and wriggling about when you told him you'd finish that round of whatever it was you guys were playing and you're all his. When you finally came and laid down next to him on the bed, he had the biggest, cheesiest grin on his face, and he basically pinned you to the bed with his body, his face in your neck, voice slightly muffled when he said,

"Hope you peed before you got here, because I'm not letting go any time soon."

To sum up, Heeseung will get quiet, then disappear when jealous. He'll recognise and acknowledge the feeling, and then feel bad and immature for it, but cuddles and reassurances from you make it all better.

Jay Park

Jay is more easily jealous than Heeseung, but again, not in an insecure way, but in a "this guy has the audacity to flirt with and touch my s/o? Nah, I don't think so" and a "that should be me with my arm around their shoulder" kinda way.

So, you were out with Jay shopping, and whilst in one of the shops, you met a classmate who was always kind of flirty with everyone but had been much more forward with you specifically over the past few weeks. It had made you pretty uncomfortable, but he wouldn't stop. You had told Jay about it when it would not let up, and he had asked if you wanted him to do anything about it but respected your wishes when you said no and that you just wanted to vent. But now, this guy was right in front of him, flirting with you and taking your hand to play with your fingers, ignoring Jay and his arm around your waist. When you took your hand back, and he reached out to take it in his again, Jay decided he had enough. Slapping his hand away and glaring at him, Jay pulled you closer to his body and proceeded to tell the guy off.

"They are quite clearly in a relationship, dude. And on top of that, extremely uncomfortable with you. Take a hint and back off, have some self-awareness."

Overall, Jay doesn't really get insecure kind of jealous, more of a protective kind of jealous. He just wants people to know you're taken, and above all, he wants you to feel safe and comfortable. I want one

Jake Sim

Cliché, I know, but I will push the soft boy Jake agenda as far as I can. Jake doesn't get jealous much; he loves and trusts you way too much for that. He wouldn't put his entire heart and soul into you if he didn't. But, sometimes, he'll see you post a picture with some friends, or see you talking with them so freely and excitedly, or you'll mention one name more frequently than usual. He'll start thinking about how being an idol means you can't do all that stuff with him out in the open, and he can't always be there for you when you need him like that one guy from your class can. So, he gets sad and starts to close in on himself. He's more quiet than usual and doesn't joke around with the boys as much.

After class, you had gone straight to the dorm to congratulate your boyfriend and his group on their successful promotions stream fever. You were currently telling Jake about your day because he always insisted you tell each other everything, just to stay as connected as possible. You mentioned one name a lot more than you usually did during your story because you were set up to do a project in pairs, and he was your partner. The guy in question was a classmate you were sort of friends with, but not entirely. Like, if you didn't know anyone else in a room and he was there, you wouldn't feel uncomfortable sitting next to and talking with him, but you wouldn't go out of your way to eat lunch with him, so you had never really mentioned him much before, but he had made a hilarious mistake when working together, which you thought would make Jake laugh, so you told him all about it. When you finished, you excused yourself to the bathroom, and that left Jake alone with his thoughts. He began thinking about how this guy makes you laugh, and is in your class, and can spend so much more time with you, and he started to get really sad. When you came back, you recognised the look on his face immediately and went to sit on his lap and tell him about how much you missed him and how you wish he could be the one doing the project with you. Good intentions, didn't work. That sort of just highlighted the fact that he was missing out on time with you. When you saw it was just getting worse, you resorted to the most fool-proof method you could think of - you began kissing him all over his face and telling him that you're so proud of everything he's doing. You don't mind the long periods of time apart because you wanted him to do what he loves and that you'll always be waiting for him when he has time off. If that doesn't seem to work (it usually does), you would tackle him down on the bed and cuddle him, basically like a koala on its tree. Arms around his shoulders, legs around his waist, your nose against his ear, telling him every three seconds that he was your favourite thing ever.

"Thank you for staying with me no matter what, baby. I love you so much."

Yeah, he gets sad, but you just cling onto him and force it into him that you love him; he'll soon be back to the happy little Aussie boy we all know and love.

Park Sunghoon

How are you gonna make Sunghoon jealous, huh? How are you going to find someone who could live up to that? That's right, you won't. The only way Sunghoon is going to get jealous is if you're sitting really close with somebody else who could possibly be as good a boyfriend to you as him. Like, say you have a guy best friend who you're really close to, and you're sitting on the couch with your legs over his lap. This guy knows you almost as well as Sunghoon does, and you're clearly comfortable with him like you are with Sunghoon, so it's entirely possibly that if he were to make a move, you'd be up for it. That's really the only scenario I think Sunghoon would get jealous in. Of course, he won't say anything, tsundere Sunghoon ain't about that. He'll probably just come sit next to you and make some sort of physical contact that gets across the message of, "My s/o, I love you, even though I don't verbally tell you all the time."

You were over at the boys' dorm, just cause, and were watching a movie with your best friend, Jay, and boyfriend, Sunghoon. You had known Jay for much longer, and in all those years you had been best friends it just became natural that you would invade his personal space, so when you put your legs over his, and leaned back on Sunghoon, neither one thought much of it. Sunghoon got up about halfway through the movie to get a refill on his drink, and you just let your body flop down in his place, legs still on top of Jay's, who now had his hand over your knee. Sunghoon thought nothing of it, until he got back, when a specific line was said on the screen. You and Jay said it in perfect unison and then burst out laughing. Sunghoon recognised the line as one you and Jay would say to each other all the time, it had become an inside joke between you two that neither of you ever explained to anyone, so you always looked like a couple of weirdos to everyone. Everyone except for Sunghoon, who saw that and couldn't help but think about how Jay knew you throughout all of your life, and he was relatively new to you, and got kind of insecure. But, he knew you wouldn't choose Jay over him romantically, but he still didn't see any harm in showing you both who was really your favourite boy. So, instead of lifting the top half of your body and sliding underneath so you were once again leaning against him, Sunghoon picked you up from the couch completely, and sat back down with you in his lap, making sure your body was slightly turned away from Jay. For the rest of the movie he sat there with his chin on your shoulder, arms around your waist, giving you little kisses on your neck every so often.

"Mmmm, isn't this so much more comfortable than before, Y/n?"

All in all, Sunghoon doesn't get jealous often, and when he does, he refuses to admit to it. But, you know. Everyone knows.

Kim Sunoo

HO, BOY, when Sunoo gets jealous, he gets JEALOUS. And, what's more, he makes sure you know. He makes sure the person making him jealous knows. He makes sure everyone in the room knows. He'll start doing aegyo for you, then turn to the guy with a disgusted look on his face, you know the one, the very Sunoo one. Then he'll turn back to you and ask you how cute you think he is, then has the BALLS to ask who you think is better looking, him or the guy who was trying to flirt, and he doesn't even acknowledge them as a threat, he just wants to show them that he has you whipped because he does.

You were hanging out outside with Sunoo when someone came up to you and started flirting, eventually asking for your number. Obviously, you instantly declined and turned to grab Sunoo's arm to leave before he got all competitive, but, alas, it was too late. 4Sunoo was already giving this guy The Looktm. Sighing internally, you just decided you would enjoy the show and pull Sunoo away before he emotionally destroyed this guy. At first, it was just some light scolding. 'They shut you down when you started flirting, what makes you think they'll give you their number?' and 'Couldn't you see they were clearly with someone. We were holding hands, are you blind?' but then he busts out the aegyo, asking you if you would really leave him for some rando off the street, finally turning back to the guy, and telling him once and for all to get lost, before he grabbed your arm and flounced away. You were positive that, had his hair been long enough, he would have ended with a sassy hair flick. and now I must manifest long hair Sunoo real quick

"You really thought you did something there, huh? Newsflash, they've been trying to shut you down nicely since you looked their way."

Yeah, he ain't having none of it.

Yang Jungwon

my SON As much as Jungwon wants to appear mature in your relationship, he's still just a kid, and kids emotions get the best of them sometimes, so yeah, he gets jealous. He gets jealous like Heeseung, in that he wants all your attention, and like Jay because he wants to be the one who's holding on to you, and like Jake, because he knows that he can't spend as much time with you as is ideal, because not only is he an idol, but he is a leader, and therefore has more responsibility than just another classmate you know. So a jealous Jungwon is a sad, insecure Jungwon pls my heart I just want him to smile and never feel sad ever, I will punch his emotions for him if he needs it, he activates such big caring older sister feelings in me, more so than my actual little brother

Enhypen had finished their schedules for the day in the mid-afternoon, so instead of just lounging at the dorm, Jungwon decided he'd pick you up from school and take you to get something to eat. He texted you beforehand to make sure you didn't have any schedule clashes that might get in the way. He waited in the company vehicle while student streamed out of the building, watching to spot you. When he did, he didn't like what he saw. You had exited the building with a boy he had never seen before, laughing and joking. You were actually being quite boisterous, pushing and pulling each other, he could hear your laughter from where he was in the car park. He always loved that sound, and he was happy you were having fun, but he wished like hell that it was him you were hiving fun with. He wanted to mess up your hair and then trip you over and laugh as you stumbled, he wanted to be the one telling you the jokes that made you laugh so hard you had to bend over. When he saw you jump on the other guys back was when he had had enough. He got his manager who was driving to honk the car horn, and got out of the car and waved at you. When you recognised the figure in the mask and bucket hat, Jungwon saw your eyes light up like a Christmas tree right before you started sprinting towards him, without even saying goodbye to your classmate. When you were finally within hugging distance, you launched yourself at your boyfriend, telling him how much you loved and missed him, and how boring everything was without him. Just your natural reaction to Jungwon's presence was enough to calm his insecurities, and he calmly told you that he had missed you as well. It wasn't until later, when he was dropping you off at home did he ask about what was happening with your classmate at school.

"So, who was that guy you left the school building with?"

Baby gets jealous easily, but is also comforted really easily, to the point you never even realise he was jealous in the first place.

Nishimura Riki

Riki is not having it. He doesn't even give the jealousy a chance to creep upon him. If he wants your attention, he's asking for it. If he needs reassurance, he tells you. If he is ever uncomfortable with the way somebody else is touching you, he makes his objections known. He doesn't see the point of keeping this all to himself and worrying about it when he could talk to you and sort it all out. He has more important things to worry about, like whose bed he's going to invade that night or when he's next going to get his fix of bungeoppang. A lot of times, if you're interacting with someone in a way that makes him feel jealous, he'll just pick you up and carry you away, usually just to plop you down in the next room and take a nap on your shoulder.

You were backstage at Inkigayo, waiting for Riki to finish getting his makeup done, so you talked to Sunoo for a while. You actually found out you had quite a lot in common and were bonding over your shared interests for so long that you didn't even notice when Riki was let out of the makeup artists chair. He came and sat next to you, but you didn't acknowledge him, which was fine with him; he didn't want to interrupt such an animated conversation. When Sunoo suggested exchanging numbers so you guys could continue your conversation later, Riki began to feel that tiny bit strange. As he watched you enter your numbers on each other's phones and then Sunoo walk off to get his makeup done, he recognised what was happening and decided to put a stop to it. When Heeseung came up to try and talk to you both, Riki just straight up ignored him as he stood up and lifted you up by your armpits to take you to the corner of the room where he sat you on top of the dressing table and just pressed his face into your neck, muffledly complaining that you liked Sunoo more. Carefully, you ran your fingers through his hair and told him you could only see Sunoo as a friend and that the number was literally just so you guys could gush over Anne With an E when you got home that night.

"All these guys do is take up your time away from me. I hate them. You're never allowed to speak to anyone but me ever again."

Yeah. Riki doesn't take no sh*t when it comes to things cutting into his cuddling time.

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arrantsnowdrop · 3 years

Text

Informalities - Éomer x reader

Request: “Eomer x reader fic where the reader is from our world and Eomer listens to the stories the reader says of our world and he thinks that it is a grand place and so when they are finally getting together, Eomer feels kind of insecure cuz he feels he'll never live up to the reader's "standards" and the reader says that they are insecure because he is a prince and she has nothing"

Tags: @thewhiteladyofrohan

Warnings: mention of battles and death, about 2,200 words

A/N: Hoppy Easter lads and lasses, we are back from a many month writing hiatus. Hope y’all enjoy, I’m glad to be here :)

You genuinely had no idea how you’d ended up in Middle Earth.

It was one of those fever dream situations - one moment you were falling asleep in your own bed, and the next you were waking up at the bottom of a tree, surrounded by many bearded and concerned looking men.

Of course you’d been startled and so, so confused, but it had only taken you a few moments to recognize the characters from one of your favorite stories, and then you’d fully accepted your new reality.

By the time you first encountered the fellowship, they had already lost Gandalf at Moria and passed through the realm of Lothlorien. They were traveling in their fancy elvish boats when they’d spotted you from the river. You were extremely grateful for that - who knows what would’ve happened if the Uruk-hai tracking them had found you first.

Boromir and Gimli were quite intimidated by your presence, having been brought up in traditions that designated men for warrior roles. Aragorn and Legolas were much more accepting (female elves were just as badass as any male elf or man, and both of them knew that). The hobbits had all taken an immediate liking to you, and you’d been devastated to lose them during the Uruk ambush. Of course, this only gave you a stronger drive to track them into Rohan with Aragorn, Legolas, and Gimli.

It was there that you met Éomer for the first time, after his riders surrounded your small group of assumed invaders.

He was handsome, there was no denying that, and you found his decision to protect Rohan even in exile extremely brave. He’d been startled by your presence (a group including a dwarf, an elf, AND a woman must’ve been an oddity for him), and thus had talked primarily with Aragorn, but you could not shake the way his eyes locked with yours as he offered you his condolences about Merry and Pippin.

You figured you’d never see the handsome blonde again, glumly complaining to Gimli about it several times throughout Rohan.

Thus, you’d been overjoyed when he arrived at the Battle of Helm’s Deep - half because he was saving your asses from almost certain death, and half because you’d get to see his face and hear his voice again.

You followed Aragorn after the battle, searching for Gandalf in the celebrating crowd. It did not take long, with his bright white robes being quite easy to pick out.

“Gandalf!” you screamed gleefully, weaving between the people around you to get to the smiling wizard.

“It is good to see you, (Y/n),” he said as you embraced him.

“Oh, it’s even better to see you,” you said.

“I have to agree with (Y/n),” Aragorn said from behind you. You pulled back, allowing Gandalf time to greet your friend, and quickly caught sight of a familiar face.

He had been laughing with some other men when his gaze fell on you, eyes locking with yours for the second time. You smiled a bit and offered an awkward wave, face flushing as he flashed you a smile.

“Ah, (Y/n), this is Lord Éomer, current heir to the throne of Rohan,” Gandalf said, noticing the two of you staring at each other.

“We’ve met before,” he said, walking towards you

“Indeed we have,” you replied as he stopped just in front of you. “It is a pleasure to meet you, oh-future-king,” you said, bowing a bit.

You could hear Aragorn slap his forehead from behind you and grinned.

“She’s not from around here, so do forgive her manners,” Aragorn said.

“Or lack thereof,” you added, straightening yourself once more and looking at Éomer’s amused face.

“I appreciate the informality,” Éomer grinned. You spun around and pointed at Aragorn.

“See? Someone appreciates me,” you accused.

You were extremely happy to meet Éomer. It’s not that you didn’t adore Aragorn and Legolas and Gimli, but they were also the only people you’d been around for quite a while. It was exciting to make a new friend, especially one so handsome and charismatic.

The two of you spent the entire ride to Isengard delving into each other’s lives, from childhoods to secret fears to favorite foods. Obviously, the two of you had led quite different lives, and he was fascinated by the world you had come from.

“These cars you speak of, are they like horses?” he asked.

“No, they’re much faster,” you replied. “They’re more like a carriage, since they have space for several people inside.”

“But it moves without a horse?”

“Yup!”

“Who steers in then?”

You were grinning ear to ear at the look of bewilderment on his face.

“One of the people inside,” you answered. “There’s a wheel to control which direction you go and pedals on the floor to control the speed.”

“That sounds terribly complicated,” Éomer said, brows furrowing.

“It’s not too bad,” you said, “I was even pretty good at it.”

Éomer shot you an alarmed look.

“You used to steer these...these things?” he asked incredulously. You laughed and nodded. “You have to be taught how to do it,” you explained. “It’s not like they throw you into it without any preparation.”

“It still sounds extremely dangerous,” he decided.

“I did break my arm in a crash once,” you said thoughtfully. He gasped.

“You can crash them?”

Éomer had quickly become one of your favorite people, which only made the continuous battles over the fate of Middle Earth even more stressful. You were terrified he would ride into a fight and never return, and even more terrified of what that meant.

You’d searched for him for hours after the Battle for Minas Tirith, heart growing more and more heavy as you continued. Every person you asked had no idea where he was, and by the time you returned to the White City, your hands were shaking with anxiety. Finding him outside of the makeshift infirmary that had been set up was the most relieving moment of your entire life.

You had gasped the moment you caught sight of his all too familiar golden hair, letting out a desperate sob as his eyes met yours, him rushing over to you and wrapping you in his arms. Your embrace was filled with all the emotions both of you were too terrified to say aloud.

“I thought you were dead,” you murmured into his chest, eyes wet and lips trembling.

“It will take far more than a few Oliphaunts to kill me,” he whispered, pressing his lips to the top of your head.

You wanted nothing more than to tell him in that moment how much you loved him, but decided against it. You knew the fighting was not over, the last thing you needed was for him to be distracted by you during battle and find himself impaled with some pointy object. If you both lived to the end of this, you would tell him then.

But then you were too scared to do it.

Of course you had won - the ring had been destroyed, Aragorn had led the crusade against the forces of Mordor, and Gondor was preparing to crown its long lost king. Everyone was staying in Minas Tirith until the coronation, but then everyone was leaving. All your friends would be heading home, but you did not have one of those here in Middle Earth.

Aragorn had already offered you a place in Gondor’s leadership, and thus a permanent residence with him, and the hobbits were more than happy to escort you back to the Shire with them, but you knew both of these options would separate you from the one person you wanted to be with.

All you wanted was to follow Éomer back to Edoras, but you were unsure if that would be best for him. He was about to be crowned king of Rohan, and probably had many ladies of Rohan’s nobility lined up to rule with him. It was selfish for you to think you had any right to his heart, especially when his duties and responsibilities were so much more important than an outspoken, title-less woman.

So you distanced yourself from him. You avoided him whenever possible, taking the longest routes you could to dinners and meetings. You tried not to be affected by his desperate gaze, or the way he called for you as you rushed out of a room. It hurt you more than anything, but you knew it would be better for him in the long run. You succeeded with your plan until the night before Aragorn’s coronation.

You’d been walking home from dinner (a huge, pre-celebration feast that qualified as a celebration itself) through an old, twisty corridor. You opened the door to your room only to see Eomer sitting on your bed, a worried look on his face.

You jumped slightly, startled by his presence.

“What are you doing in here?” you said breathlessly. “This is totally an invasion of my privacy and absolutely uncalled for at such a late hour, you almost gave me a heart attack-”

“Forgive me,” he interrupted, standing up from the bed, eyes fixated on you. You both stood there in silence for some time, the closest you’d been to each other for the first time in days.

“I missed you,” he murmured finally. “You’ve been avoiding me.”

You looked down at your feet and nodded. You did not want to see the look of betrayal that he was undoubtedly wearing.

“Why?” he whispered. You winced at the sound of hurt in his voice.

“You would not understand Éomer, but I promise it was in your best interest,” you replied.

“You are my best friend, (Y/n), how could ignoring me benefit me?” he asked incredulously. You looked up at him, trying to ignore the tears beginning to form in your eyes.

“Éomer-”

“Please,” he cut you off desperately, slowly walking towards you. “I have missed you more than you could possibly imagine.” “That is the issue,” you whispered, closing your eyes to avoid looking at him.

“How is that an issue?” he begged.

“Because you are about to be a king,” you shouted, eyes still closed. “And you will leave after tomorrow with everyone else, back to Edoras, where new responsibilities will be awaiting you and demanding your attention.”

“How does that have anything to do with you?” he asked, voice sounding a lot closer than before. You gulped, sensing him right in front of you.

“I would be a distraction,” you replied meekly. Éomer did not reply, but instead reached to grab your hands with his own, you gasping as he pulled you into his chest.

“(Y/n), you are not a distraction, how could you-”

“I do not want you to leave me here,” you interrupted, resting your forehead against him. “I am so scared I’ll never see you again, but your life is about to be so much more important than me.”

“I do not want to leave you here,” he said, wrapping his arms around your back. “I want you to come with me. You’re my best friend, how could I abandon you?”

“That’s exactly the problem,” you whispered, “even if I were physically with you, that would not stop me from...from…”

You stopped and bit your lip, terrified of the confession about to pour out of you. Éomer moved his hand below your chin, tilting your head up to face him.

“Stop you from what?” he whispered intensely, eyes searching your face desperately. You exhaled breathily.

“I love you, Éomer,” you said softly, watching as his expression softened. “So, so much.”

He blinked once, twice, registering what you had just said, and smiled, leaning down to rest his forehead against yours.

“I love you more than anyone, (Y/n),” he murmured.

“But, surely there are women back in Rohan who are far more suitable for-”

“(Y/n),” Éomer said seriously, pulling away to look you in the eyes once more. “I have the power to be with whomever I choose.”

“But why would you choose me?” you asked meekly. Éomer chuckled, brushing a stray bit of hair out of your face and tucking it behind your ear tenderly. You leaned into his hand slightly, relishing in the way he cupped your face.

“I was more nervous that you wouldn’t choose me,” he admitted. You look at him in confusion.

“How could I not choose you?” you asked.

“You’re much more interesting than I am,” he shrugged. “You come from a world that is so much more exciting than mine, and the last thing I want is for you to settle for me.”

“Éomer, you stab people with swords and ride horses all day. And live in a castle. That is insanely cool,” you grinned, wrapping your arms around his midsection. “Of course I choose you.”

“And I choose you,” he murmured, pulling you closer to him. “Please come home with me.”

“Yes,” you whispered, nodding fervently. “Yes, please.”

Éomer grinned, tilting your face up to his once more and leaning down to kiss you. Your heart leaped, hand reaching up to grab the back of his head to intensify the kiss. He moaned softly, bending down to pick you up and twirling you around. You giggled and pressed your nose against his.

“I’m thinking we make my coronation far less formal than Aragorn’s,” Éomer said, “as much as I’ve been loving these dinners, I don’t think I could stand hosting them.”

“You know I’m fantastic at informalities,” you replied.

#eomer x reader #eomer #eomer of rohan #eomer fanfiction #eomer imagine #lord of the rings fanfiction #lord of the rings

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sassycassie-s-writing · 3 years

Text

Darker Shadows

By: SassyShoulderAngel319

Fandom/Character(s): A Court of Thorns and Roses Series/Azriel

Rating: PG-11/T-

Original Idea: Nothing in particular. Finished the first 4 books. Dunno if I can stand Nesta long enough to read ACOSF, so I wrote this with no information from ACOSF. Have fun.

Notes: (Masterlist)(By Character)(About Me) Whaaaaa...? I break my ongoing hiatus for this? Yep. I did. I hope a few more one-shots join this one, but I am making no promises. This one just came to me for about an hour so surprise! Happy August.

^^^^^

“Darker Shadows”

Azriel said nothing as he slipped through the door to our apartment, quiet and soft as the shadows surrounding him. I watched from the sitting room adjacent to the foyer. He must have known I was there—the shadows must have informed him—but he didn’t so much as look at me. Just rested his forehead on the door and sighed.

“Long day?” I asked.

He blinked his eyes open and turned. “Incredibly,” he replied.

I patted the sofa next to me, indicating he come sit.

Azriel’s shadows seemed to grow more numerous around him as he crossed to me. I realized why as his leathers thumped to the floor in his wake, leaving him in a light undershirt and undershorts.

No matter how long we lived together, he was always so modest.

Part of me wondered if it was more insecurity than modesty; but I would never invade his privacy that much to ask. He’d tell me when he was comfortable.

He hit the sofa cushion next to me hard. His wings barely missed getting caught behind him. Ever the precise, too. One arm and one wing wrapped over my shoulders. He was warm, even if his underclothes were cold from his sweat. I snuggled into his side. We both stared at the fire for a while.

“Did you eat up at the House?” I asked.

The shadows shrouding him retreated a little, going back to their usual shades. He glanced at me with those sharp hazel eyes before returning his gaze to the fire. “Yes. Rhys and Feyre were hosting a dinner for the Palace governors. A private celebration of rebuilding the city so quickly before the grand, public celebration in three days.”

I snorted. “Bet they loved that,” I said sarcastically. Among the family, it was well-known that Rhys and Feyre both hated formal parties and dinners with a fiery passion.

A glimmer of amusement joined the reflection of the flames in Azriel’s eyes. “Oh, they slipped out an hour in. I heard them in the library… having fun amongst the stacks. I left them to it and didn’t interrupt.”

I couldn’t stop the laughter that burst from my throat, but clamped it down hard to not disturb the neighbors.

Azriel held me tighter. “Would have been more enjoyable if you were there,” he said. His voice was soft, almost as though he didn’t actually want to admit it.

Reaching up, I cupped the side of his face. “Sorry I couldn’t go. I’d have liked to have been there.” I gestured to my wrapped leg. “I just don’t think I could handle a party today. If Rhysand had decided to host it three days from now with the rest of the celebrations, I would have been able to make it.” I made a face. “Sorry I missed it.”

“It’s alright. I understand.”

I reached around his wing to the end table, picking up my glass and handing it to him. He downed the rest and handed it back to me. I chuckled and set the glass on the coffee table instead.

After shuddering at the freezing chill of the water from my glass, Azriel turned to me. “How’s the pain?”

I shrugged. “Better than it was,” I said.

“At least you’re healing quickly.”

“Mmhmm.”

“How did you spend your night?”

I waved a vague hand to the small pile of books on the coffee table. “Just decided to read a little.”

“A little?” Azriel quoted. “You read five novels in four hours.”

“Oh, no. I didn’t finish them all. When I got bored I’d switch between them.”

“None of them holding your attention?”

“Not like they used to. Not since—”

The War with Hybern. Azriel knew. We all broke in some way over the course of it. I hadn’t had the attention span I used to since.

Azriel smiled at me. “Bathe, then bed?”

“Sounds great,” I replied.

He scooped me into his lap and stood up. I yelped at the sensation. My bad leg dangled looser than my good leg. My yelp earned me a twitched smile from my spymaster.

He carried me into the bathing room and sat me on the edge of the tub before turning it on. As it began to warm up and fill, he helped me unwrap my splint and undress. I returned the favor as best I could.

We bathed quickly and then got in our sleep clothes after drying off. After carrying me to bed, Azriel poked the point of my ear. “Goodnight,” he said softly.

I smiled, never able to contain my affection. “Sleep well,” I replied.

He doused the faelights and climbed under the covers.

We snuggled against each other. One of his wings draped over the both of us, keeping us warmer than the covers could. That warmth, his scent… it helped lull me to sleep. I could fall fast asleep on stone if Azriel was beside me.

—

Azriel watched his own scarred hand brush her nightshirt away from the skin of her back, revealing two sharp scars and an elaborate tattoo. Another rare Illyrian/High Fae hybrid, she’d been born with wings. Unlike Rhys, who could summon and desummon his wings at will, hers had been permanent.

Until her High Fae mother ordered her wings removed when she was still a child. Barely more than a toddler.

Azriel hadn’t met her until Rhys disappeared Under the Mountain. She’d been fifty-seven-years-old at the time. He’d seen her in the Rainbow, in one of the pottery studios, on a hot summer day. Her clothing revealed her back. The deep, disgustingly neat scars that made it clear how her wings had been taken from her, and the deep blue-black ink covering most of the exposed skin. She’d told him once she got it to both hide and show off the scars. When he’d asked why, she’d simply replied, “I’m stronger than the people who tried to hurt me.”

She hadn’t told him it was her mother—who’d wanted her to be a normal High Fae—for another decade.

He hadn’t been in love with her at the time. But during those fifty years everyone was stuck in Velaris, they became good friends. Azriel found her company much more peaceful than the other members of the Inner Circle. He loved them all—his family—but there was no harm, or shame, in being around someone who was quiet.

Then, a human girl broke Tamlin’s curse and Amarantha was dead. The High Lords and the members of their courts were released from Under the Mountain. And Rhys came home. And Azriel was both busier and freer than ever to spend time with his new friend.

He’d been so quietly pining for Morrigan for so long that, at first, he hadn’t realized the subject of his affections had changed.

During that final battle, when Prythian’s forces were spread so thin and even every reinforcement that came didn’t seem to make a dent… she’d taken a hit. A bad slash across the lower back.

And Azriel had seen red. His powers had already been mostly used up, his Siphons dim, and his wings badly injured.

But he’d gone to rescue her anyway.

His wings had screamed at him the entire flight back to a healer’s tent and then back to the battle. But during those moments, as she bled in his arms, he knew his feelings had transcended just friendship. “If we get out of this alive,” he’d said, “I’d like to treat you to dinner.”

She’d hummed, her side vibrating against his torso. “Mmm… dinner sounds nice. Afterwards, I can buy dessert.”

“We’ll see,” Azriel had said, smiling.

After they’d both healed and returned to Velaris, they’d done just that.

They’d been together ever since.

Azriel smiled at the memories.

—

“You’re staring,” I said quietly. His staring and touching had woken me.

“You’re incredible,” Azriel replied. “Have I told you that?”

“Today? No. This week? Many times.”

A soft chuckle. “So long as you know it.”

I rolled over so I was facing him. With his wing bent over both of us, I felt like I was in a sheet fort.

His eyes harbored a small glint in the half-light. I stared at him. “What is it?” His question was gentle.

I shrugged, feeling my scars pulling on my skin. “You’re so beautiful.”

“Funny, I was thinking the same thing about you,” he said.

“Charmer,” I teased.

That earned me a chuckle. Though his smile dropped after a moment. “Does it bother you?” He asked.

“What?”

“That you can’t fly?”

My humor disappeared. The phantom wings I still felt sometimes shivered in the back of my mind. “Sort of,” I replied. “I’d only barely taught myself how when Mother forced me to get them removed. It’s hard to miss what I didn’t really know. But I remember the wind over my scalp. My entire body fighting desperately to keep me aloft. I loved it. But now… now I get to fly with you and remember what it felt like. It’s not quite the same, but it’s enough for me.”

Azriel kissed my forehead. “Sorry I woke you,” he said.

“It’s okay. Any extra time I get to spend with you is worth it,” I replied with a smile.

#Azriel Shadowsinger #Azriel #Azriel Imagine #Azriel FanFiction #ACOTAR #ACOTAR Imagine #ACOTAR FanFiction #Darker Shadows

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issaxcharlie · 4 years

Text

Owen hosts Couple tag

Pairing: Charlie Gillespie x Artist Fem Reader

Summary: We play pretend world guys✨ (I missed them, I’m SoRryyyy.) So, Charlie wants some reassurance after starting to prepare his proposal to Y/N and makes this “genius” plan with Owen to find her answers without being suspicious. (She totally knows tho) also a lot of friendship fighting between Owen and Y/N because I had to, I made myself laugh a lot so I’ll hope at least makes you smile🤧🤣Anyways, have fun!

This is also my weird and nonsense way of doing sweet @marvel-ousnesss request of the we play pretend couple to do a couple buzzfeed quiz 💖

The blonde takes a deep breath before picking up his phone and heading to the living room, where his couple of friends and roommates are on the couch. Charlie is lying down watching television and Y/N is lying on top of him with her face snuggled into his neck, he hugging her around the waist while gently running his fingers down her skin.

The plan was simple, to help Charlie plan the perfect proposal and give him an idea of what she expects from her wedding, they were doing a “Couple tag” video. That way the questions wouldn’t be as suspicious. Of course, there are easier ways but we are talking about Charlie. They convinced Kenny to call her and tell her that it was to promote the second season that is currently being filmed, and she agreed.

Charlie mentioned many times that someone else had to ask her the questions because she reads her boyfriend like an open book, so his improvisation had to be perfect to keep his best friend’s clever girlfriend out of the hook.

He decided to start the live from his room so as not to give the singer the opportunity to think much about it, so he sits in the living room and focuses the image on his friends who are not affected in the least by their positions. After all, everyone already knows that they are a couple and that they live together.

“Hello, I’m Y/N Y/L! And yes, that sexy, beautiful, adorable and talented man is my boyfriend, Charlie Gillespie.” He blushes as the memory of their first night back as a couple invades the mind of the Canadian, who had his girlfriend in exactly this position when she was, as she said, 'practicing' her introduction. Sadly, this time it will not end like that night because his best friend and about 500,000 people are watching.

“Welcome to my first edition of the Couple tag everyone! Here's my first guest couple, I know it’s not much, but I promise to find someone worthwhile next time, this is just for practice." Charlie laughs but looks nervous. Instead, his girlfriend sits down and rolls her eyes.

"I can't believe you chose him over a puppy or a hamster." The girl says to her boyfriend while laughing at her friend's offended reaction.

“I'm going to write that down in my long enemies list, but for now I have a live to lead. Okay guys, so basically I will ask them questions and I will also choose who answers them because I’m the only one hot enough to call the shots here."

She laughs and sticks out her tongue. Charlie sits down too and she takes his hand to fiddle with it. She keeps arguing for a few minutes with Owen but shows no signs of not wanting to play the game so he starts before she regrets it.

“Okay, first one is for Charlie. How did you guys met? This is actually a good one because a lot of the fans think you met on set and are like this really intense couple who started to date the very first week without even knowing each other’s last names.”

They both start laughing at the comment. The truth is that they have seen multiple posts and comments online from people judging their relationship and how fast they were going, especially when they did that last interview together and Y/N said that Charlie was taking his sweet time to ask for marriage, since for the fans they only have one year and months of knowing each other.

“We have known each other since forever. Our moms were best friends and we were born only a few weeks apart so we've always been together. We grew up as best friends and were dating before Y/N moved to New York to play Daniela on Stardust." Charlie tries to shake off the memory of the last tearful kiss before Y/N got on the plane. Hopefully he’ll never have to part from her for so long again. Sometimes he can't even understand how he managed to get through those 5 years.

"So no, we don't know each other for just one year, but 22." She adds, kissing his nose.

"Y/N, honey. I didn't ask you, don't be rude and wait for your turn." Owen says teasingly, the girl laughs and throws a pillow at him.

“Okay, rude again. Y/N, What is the first thing that he ever gave you?”

“Oh my, this beautiful valentines card! We were like eight I think. The paper is red, and it is filled with gold and silver glitter stars. Inside is a big star that has written in the middle, “My bright star, happy valentine’s day. I love you. And a lot of doodles of my favorite things, like my guitar, a microphone, chocolate, and a little Charlie. Just adorable, I still have it and to date it is one of my favorite gifts.”

The emotion with which she responds makes Charlie's heart melt. That was the first time he called her bright star, and he kept saying it to her during every audition, every performance, every practice. The exact reason not even she knows, but maybe one of these days he'll tell her.

“Rude and a liar. The 22-year-old Charlie's handwriting is horrible, the 8-year-old Charlie handwriting could only be close to a squiggle, nothing more. Oh, and probably only you had the ability to read it. I very much doubt that was beautiful."

She opens her mouth in surprise and wrinkles her nose, feigning annoyance. “I liked you more when you had a crush on me. You were nicer.”

Owen's eyes widen and he turns to see Charlie looking for help but he just starts laughing. “Wh- What are you talking about, mean girl?”

“Oh c’mon, you totally did, Ohio.” She smiles at the camara while showing a superiority face.

“Really? I already told you a thousand times, I'm from Oklahoma. But hey, how funny, forget about Stardust and audition for Funny Girl!”

“Jokes on you, I would nail Fanny Brice.”

“Man, defend my honor!”

“Bro, I can’t. You totally did, I even got worried for a second there.” It is incredible to think about how their friendship has grown and matured over time. They went from Owen fangirling every time he saw her to being really good friends. All these fights are more of a show than anything else, the truth is that when nobody is recording they tend to be very cool around each other and the three of them have quite a pleasant dynamic now that they are living together for the show.

“I won, Idaho. Now, please continue.”

“Well, my friends embarrassed me on my own live. I can already imagine the headlines tomorrow. Anyways, Charlie, Would you let yourself in danger to save her?”

Charlie starts laughing as he drops his head on the girl's shoulder. "I think she's not going to let me lie, I always have and will continue to do so. For me it's always her safety first."

"Which has given me more than a scare but he's so freakin stubborn." She adds while looking stressed and Owen can't help but imagine all the situations Charlie must have put himself in before.

“I prefer you scared than in danger, beautiful.” He grins and kiss her lips, her facial expresions relaxing at his touch.

“Gross. Y/N, do you prefer a small wedding or a big wedding?” She can feel Charlie tense at the question, so she leans her body back to support it against him and give him a lowkey reassurance.

“I hadn't really thought about it, but I know that my almost mother-in-law has been planning it all her life so you should check with her.”

His mom. Y/N is right, as always. His mom is their biggest shipper and the wedding is probably something she’ll want to be an importart part of, maybe way more than with his brothers since she adores the girl as much as her own kids, and the fact that his girlfriend is even more aware of that fact than him makes him smile.

“Do you love it when someone refers you as ‘her boyfriend’?”

“Always. Especially if it's her. She has that little knack of saying it whenever she can and it’s the most adorable thing in the world.”

“Oh I thought she was just showing it off to me because she was intimidated by our chemistry. I don't feel so special anymore.” Charlie chuckles and sends a secret air kiss to his friend, who just smirks and fakes to blush.

“How would you handle it if you thought another man was hitting on her?” Owen asks the guitarist raising an eyebrow.

“She usually takes care of that situations, her method is to take me by the shirt and kiss me hard on the lips. I’m never going to complain about that.” Charlie says smirking and blushing.

“We are a celebrity couple, for better or for worse. I’m not having him in a fight when I can just kiss that beautiful lips and solve the problem.” Charlie smiles as he wraps his girlfriend in his arms, so she can't see his face with the next question.

“What do you dream of your marriage? Mmm, let’s go with Y/N.”

“Anything will be perfect if I spend it with the man of my life. My Char is my everything and my biggest dream is to live my whole life laughing by his side.” Owen pretends to vomit as Charlie fills her with kisses under the ear, clearly moved by her answer.

“Let’s get to someting less cheesy because I really can’t with you both anymore. Has anyone ever tried to break your relationship?”

Charlie rolls his eyes and thinks for a moment. “Yes. We were like seventeen, and this guy from hockey had this big crush on her, so he tried to flirt with her many times even though everyone knew she was my girlfriend, until one day that he made her too uncomfortable and things escalated between him and me. Luckily my brothers intervened before something else happened because he was much bigger than me. I would have totally lost.” He chuckles while his girlfriend turns to see his face and gives him another sweet kiss on the corner of his lips.

“Yes guys, they are this annoying all the time. How do I survive? A lot of yoga. Next question, If three guys are standing, and you have been blindfolded, then how would you recognize him? Guys we actually did this like three days ago on set.”

“It was awesome! We put my bandana on her eyes and since it had my smell she couldn't be guided by that to choose.” Charlie explains excited.

“We got the three of us, first Jeremy then Charlie and then me in front of her, then she began to lightly touch Jer's hand. Then she went to Charlie's, it didn't take her a minute to recognize him and she took him from the hair and draw him to her lips, it was actually a pretty smooth and risky move, I’ll give you a point for that, prodigy brat.”

“Char's body inadvertently reacts to mine. It was pretty easy to tell the difference, especially after touching Jeremy's hand.” She turns her head to give Charlie a soft kiss on the lips and then Owen starts laughing like crazy and telling her to come see a specific comment.

She gets up and goes to sit next to him, Owen changes the camera so that now they are the ones in the image and she begins to read aloud. “Charlie I could give you my... Oh my god!” Owen continues laughing, resting his head on his friend who simply watches the screen in shock.

“Thank god Charlie doesn’t know how to read.” Owen, who was just recovering from his giggling fit, laughs again as Charlie giggles and sticks his tongue out at his girlfriend.

"Who needs to read when you look this hot with sleeveless shirts." He jokes while winking at his partner, which seems to melt in front of the camera that is still pointing directly at her.

“The man has a point. Okay, Y/N move your ass back there I’m still in charge of this show. Would you prefer a silver or gold ring?”

She makes sure to move off the screen and sticks her middlefinger at Owen before heading back to her place with her boyfriend. “Good and really random question.” She smirks, not making contact with her boyfriend. “I don't have a preference, but I would love Char to design it. Obviously with the correct guidance, but yeah he choosing every detail and then explaining to me why he choose it would be the dream.”

Charlie smiles. He was already imagining something like this after so many years of gifting and has already been visiting the jewelry store several times to make sure he designed the perfect ring for his girl, a slight feeling of pride filling him.

“Which series does she thinks resembles your relationship?”

“She loves Boy Meets World and see a lot of us in Cory and Topanga. I can totally see it too, after all they too have known each other their whole lives and have a bond as strong as ours.”

“Well that explains why she’s always telling me ‘Life is though, get a helmet’ instead of actually help me.” She grins at the memory of Charlie’s last prank on Owen a couple of days ago, it was really good since she secretly helped him plan it.

“Man, It wasn’t personal. I do the same with Char. I’m not going to be known for being the one ruining prank war. Take it to the end of the road, if you need me to take you idiots out of jail I totally will... eventually.”

“My girl, everyone. Isn’t she awesome?” He watches her adoringly and she blushes in response, buring her head on his neck.

“She always has this enormous energy and personality but all it takes is for you to see her for her to melt, that’s... kind of cute actually. Okay next question Stardust, What about If Charlie tells you to marry him tomorrow?”

For the thousandth time that night Y/N can feel Charlie stressing out. The fact that he planned together with Owen and Kenny all of this just to make sure he was on the same page with her is the most adorable thing in the world.

“I’m pretty sure he knows I would always say yes. He could have gotten on a plane when we were 18 and told me ‘I don't want to be without you, let's get married.’ And I would have said yes. He’s my person, I have nothing to think about, I have always known it’s him."

Now it's Charlie's turn to melt, and Owen himself can't help but smile.

Charlie's confidence in what he has planned is higher than ever, and the day when he can finally make it official is near. He has been dreaming of this day with his Y/N for years and he will finally get it.

“Well guys, that was it, give it up to my favorite couple of dumbasses and please stop asking obvious questions. Will I be Y/N’s maid of honor? Of course I will. Oh, and tune in next week to see me becoming Kenny’s new favorite after I challenge Y/N in a dance duel with I got the music. Golden star is GOING DOWN."

Thank you for reading✨

NEXT PART HERE

Taglist: @writerinlearning, @ghostofmgg @strangerthanfanfiction713, @thebloodthirstyvampress @kinda-really-lost, @kcd15, @magnet-girl, @aliandthephantoms, @stxrkspidey, @pinkrockstar19, @s0uz4s, @shycupcakealissa @cookiebuba, @fangirlangioma, @sageellsworth05, @twist3dtinkerbell, @sunsetcurvenotsunsetswerve, @caitsymichelle13 , @ifilwtmfc, @luckylouiebug, @bibliophilewednesday, @totomoshi, @siennanoelle01, @lunashadow6955, @bookfrog247, @morganayennefertyrell, @kiss-themoongoodbye, @rachelle3musicals, @imsydneywalker, @really-dont-forget-it @agentstarkid @talksoprettyjjx @kaitieskidmore1 @lukeys-giggle @katie-navarro @crybabyddl @cocopuffs0211 @marvel-ousnesss @blackhood5sos @dpaccione @tuttigunner

#charlie gillespie fic #charlie gillespie imagines #charlie gillespie x y/n #charlie gillespie x reader #charlie gillespie imagine #charlie gillespie fanfiction #charlie gillespie fanfic #charlie gillespie one shot #jatp one shot #jatp fanfic #jatp luke #luke patterson imagine #luke patterson x reader #luke patterson x y/n #luke patterson fanfiction

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ailelie · 3 years

Text

strong

It starts when Jirou overhears a conversation between Aizawa and Present Mic that could be flirty or not. This leads to a lunchtime discussion of flirty vs. friendly and whether or not the two teachers are each other's types. This then spins into a conversation about "types" in general.

Lunch ends before Todoroki is forced to answer with his own "type."

Class is a special lecture on heroism and psychology. This brings up the cycle of abuse and Todoroki's mental "no."

After dinner, the conversation lazily turns back to types and Todoroki gets called out for not giving his before. "Strong," he says. He gets teased for not giving more--hair color, sense of humor, hobbies, gender--and he's like "those aren't important." Likes? Dislikes? They push. Then he thinks and shakes his head. Strong encompasses everything important.

Eventually the conversation circles back to the instigating situation: Aizawa and Present Mic: Flirty or Friendly? The students start to scheme and this draws in Mina who pulls in the rest of the squad.

Bakugou thinks the whole thing is stupid. Todoroki is surprised to agree with him. Bakugou also points out that even if they are, maybe they don't want anyone to know. And, besides, what does it matter? (Secretly Bakugou knows he isn't straight and he'd hate to be outed by nosy idiots).

Next day, they're assigned a project. They can work in groups. Groups form and discussions, but the project conversation keeps slipping back to the schemes. Todoroki accidentally makes eye contact with Bakugou and it seems he is just as exasperated. Then Bakugou asks the teacher if they can change up groups if they want to do something else for the project. Teacher says "yes" as long as they finalize groups by the end of the period. Then he asks if he can work alone. That is a "no." So Bakugou considers his options (Yaoyorozu’s group would be focused, but he does not want to work with Iida, etc) and ends up approaching Todoroki who is looking about as miserable as his face allows at his own table. Bakugou confirms he isn't in on the scheme yet and says they should work together instead. Todoroki agrees, much to the surprise and dismay of his friends. He just wants to get the project done.

Near the end of the period, Shinsou drops into a chair by them and says they have to be less annoying than Aoyama's group. And then asks why they peeled off from the others. Bakugou says the rest are too focused on whether or not the teachers are dating. Shinsou suppresses a smirk and says "They aren't." "Like I care?" "We're not talking about that," Todoroki says, pulling them back to the project.

They hash out a study schedule for the project. They've got a month to pull it all together. Finding a quiet place to study is difficult, though.

There is training. Todoroki watches Bakugou finish up a set and comments, "You're strong." Bakugou a bit high on endorphins and beating his personal best just says "No shit."

When their study spot is basically invaded for the third time in a row, Shinsou groans and says he might have somewhere they can study instead. He just has to ask first. Bakugou frowns because that reminds him of an option, too. So, until Shinsou can figure out whether his idea will work, they decide to try working on their project at Bakugou’s house.

Todoroki sees how Bakugou and his mother interact, which reminds him of the lesson on cycles of abuse. On the train back to UA he asks, out of nowhere, “Do you think all kids end up like their parents?”

Shinsou and Bakugou immediately answer “No.” Todoroki is like, “But your mother…” / “But nothing. That’s just how we talk. What’s the point in sulking around or hiding what you mean?” The two then glance to Shinsou who’s just like, “My parents abandoned me. I hope I can clear that bar.” / Bakugou’s eyes widen a bit at that, but he only says, “Yeah. We decide what we’re like. Not them.”

And for the second time that week, Todoroki thinks strong.

A few days later, Shinsou announces he has a place they can study, but it is top secret so they can’t tell anyone. The other two agree. (Bakugou’s house isn’t bad, but it isn’t super close either. Walking distance is much better than a train). So after classes, he walks them away from UA, into the nearby neighborhood, and to an apartment.

Inside the apartment is Present Mic with his hair wet and down, frowning over some papers with a grading pen in his hand. He glances up when Shinsou flicks on the hall light. Shinsou signs something and Mic replies and gets up. “Wha--” Todoroki starts to ask quietly and Bakugou replies before Shinsou can, “He’s going to put his hearing aids back in.” “You sign?” Shinsou asks, surprised. “I’m probably going to be deaf by the time I’m 30,” Bakugou replies with forced nonchalance. “I figured I should learn before I had to.” “You should talk with Yamada.” Bakugou raises his brows. “You live with Yamada?” Meanwhile Todoroki is looking around the room and notices the photographs. “And Aizawa?” he adds. Shinsou just smirks again. “You’ll see.”

Present Mic returns with his hair pulled back. “I didn’t realize today was study day,” he says with a bright smile. “Why don’t you take your friends to the table, Hitoshi? I’ll put together a snack.” He does just that and then returns to the living room and his grading. The whole thing reminds Todoroki of Bakugou’s mother when she and Bakugou weren’t arguing. And he asks, carefully because he knows he misses social cues, “Is Mr. Yamada your father?”

This, of all things, is what flusters Shinsou. “Adopted,” he says. “He and Aizawa.” Bakugou laughs. “So that’s why they’re not dating. They’re married?” Shinsou confirms this and reinforces the secrecy.

At some point Aizawa returns to the apartment and Hizashi invites Todoroki and Bakugou to stay for dinner. Then Aizawa offers to walk them back to UA before he goes on patrol. “We won’t say anything,” Todoroki promises; he knows the value of secrets. Then, after a long minute, Bakugou adds, quietly, “But maybe you should? It’d have been nice to know sooner it wasn’t impossible.” Aizawa only nods. He walks them to the gates and tells them to get to bed.

On his way to his room, Todoroki realizes the implications of what Bakugou had said and once again marvels at his strength. Speaking out against a teacher and professional hero, revealing something about himself like that--compounded with his self-confidence and drive and physical fitness…

Todoroki sinks onto his bed and thinks oh.

Once the thought is there, he has trouble not paying attention to Bakugou. It is a Problem.

He is not subtle. Bakugou calls him out on it and Todoroki answers honestly, “I want to understand you.” Like Bakugou is some kind of complicated puzzle.

Really, the only thing keeping Todoroki from becoming the center of attention as everyone tries to understand why Bakugou is the center of his attention is that the flirty v. friendly now duelling schemes are still on. By this point the teachers know. Yamada is having fun with it. Aizawa is ignoring it.

And Todoroki and Bakugou have dinner at their apartment about twice a week. The project ends (and they ace it), but this routine persists.

It is strange watching the two teachers interact with Shinsou. Todoroki even watches Aizawa and Shinsou train one afternoon and is again resentful about his father and own training. And it builds. They go to the apartment and everyone is so nice and family like. And the teachers ask Shinsou about his grades and tease him over his crush on some girl they never outright name. And it is this fury building. He knows how to swallow back his anger, all of his emotions really, but he’s been letting his guard down more at UA and apparently he’s forgotten the trick of it when he has this much going on inside of him (because it isn’t just the fury; it is also his confusion about Bakugou, his worries about his mother, etc). And on the way back to UA, he quietly demands to know why Aizawa never hurt Shinsou during training.

Why didn’t he hurt him? Why didn’t he insult him? Why? He’s crying but doesn’t realize it. Bakugou is frozen. And then Aizawa is hugging him and suggesting that they return to the apartment and talk instead. Todoroki is calming but everything is still spinning around him. Aizawa asks if Bakugou can return to UA alone and Todoroki surprises himself by saying “No. He can come.” Because Todoroki has no idea what he feels about Bakugou, not really, but he knows the other boy is strong and right now he needs strength.

They return. Yamada sees them and murmurs that he’ll make tea. Aizawa takes Todoroki to the couch. Shinsou signs to Bakugou asking what happened. Bakugou replies that he has no idea. Icyhot (and yes, Todoroki’s name signs are that combination) just started crying. Aizawa interrupts the conversation by asking Bakugou to join Todoroki on the couch. Yamada brings in tea and Aizawa starts asking questions. Bakugou isn’t sure what he’s doing there until he feels Todoroki lean very slightly against his shoulder. A cat jumps into his lap. His voice is basically a monotone, but Bakugou realizes he’s still freaked out. And, as he listens to what he’s saying, he realizes why. Shinsou sits on the floor on Todoroki’s other side and leans his shoulder against Todoroki’s knees.

And after the talking is done and Todoroki is staring down at his cold, undrunk tea and the teachers are in the kitchen talking silently. Bakugou says, “You will never be your old man, Icyhot. I’d kick your ass if you tried.” For some reason this makes Todoroki huff a small laugh. “Good.”

The teachers return. They have extra futons. The boys will stay the night and they’ll discuss everything in the morning. They move the couch and lay out the futons. Shinsou sleeps in his own room, so it is just Bakugou and Todoroki.

Todoroki can’t sleep. Now that he’s calmed from his earlier fury and breakdown, panic is setting in. He can’t believe what he just did. Bakugou notices and, instead of insulting him, asks if he wants to learn sign language. They spend about an hour going through the alphabet and basic words until Todoroki is tired enough to sleep.

In the morning, Todoroki refuses to press any charges against his father. The teachers say that they’ll arrange it so that he spends all of his holidays with them or at the school. And say that he has to start meeting with Hound Dog once a week to talk. Todoroki does not like the mandated counseling, but accepts it as his punishment for letting his emotions get the better of him.

The signing lessons continue. Each night, about an hour after curfew, Todoroki slips down to Bakugou’s room and learns sign language. Kirishima knows the sneaking is going on and that Bakugou is giving lessons, but he’s just so proud of Bakugou making friends on his own that he helps cover for them. (He doesn’t know why Todoroki is learning sign, but he doesn’t ask).

The flirty v. friendly schemes are ongoing and yielding mixed results. The debate is annoying. It has been a month, but the growing mountain of contradictory evidence is keeping the conversation alive. Izuku points out that this is the kind of thing Todoroki would normally be all over, but he doesn’t know how to make himself care. He doesn’t care about other people’s romances. He barely cared about his own before Bakugou.

Because that is definitely still a thing. After Bakugou didn’t make fun of him for his breakdown. After he started teaching him sign language every night. He just wants the other boy close. He doesn’t understand his own impulses beyond that. It is enough that he’s even eaten lunch with the Bakusquad a few times.

Meanwhile, Bakugou is opening up to the teachers a bit more. After seeing how they handled Todoroki’s breakdown, he finally takes Shinsou’s advice and mentions his own hearing loss and how it probably wasn’t going to get better. Then one night he brings up what he’d hinted at before. It’s been weeks since then, but he talks about how annoying the schemes have gotten and asks why the teachers don’t just tell everyone and then says that he’s gay and if they’re too cowardly to let little kids know they aren’t alone and anyone can be a hero, then he’ll just do it himself.

On the walk home, Aizawa tells him he’s right and that they’ll think about it. During sign language practice that night, Todoroki tells Bakugou that his friends had asked him before what his type was and that he’d said “strong.” And then he says, “You’re the strongest person I know. I like you.”

And Bakugou is like “you can’t just say something like that” and Todoroki’s just “why not? It’s the truth.” He maybe quotes or references Bakugou’s comment from over a month ago on the train about being direct. So Bakugou asks if they can talk about it tomorrow and Todoroki just nods and asks, “Do you mind if I eat lunch with you tomorrow? I like being close to you.” And Bakugou feels like he’s about to explode of something, but he agrees and all but pushes Todoroki out the door.

Kirishima is returning to his room after staying late in Kaminari’s room playing games. He checks the time. “Lesson end early?” he asks. Todoroki says, “I told him I like him.” Kirishima’s brows raise--”That would do it.”--and he wishes Todoroki a good night. As soon as he’s out of sight, Kirishima lets himself into Bakugou’s room, knowing his friend is not going to be able to process this on his own.

The day happens and isn’t particularly notable. Todoroki has eaten with Bakugou’s friends before, after all. That night, Bakugou says, “Okay. Let’s try this.”

Kirishima, good bro that he is, provides gossip cover by publicly confessing to Yaoyorozu. He wanted someone unlikely who would definitely not return his feelings and who no one in the class would expect. (She accepts. It is a Thing. They go on a date and he explains. When she looks upset, he says that he does admire her; he just never thought of her that way because he figured he didn’t have a chance. He asks her if she wants to try this while also using their relationship to draw away as much attention as possible from Bakugou and Todoroki. Todoroki is her friend, so she agrees. And thus begins their farce covering a real growing friendship and relationship during which they both gain confidence).

Meanwhile Todoroki and Bakugou go on a date. It goes rather well. Except Todoroki still wants closer.

They start cuddling during their nightly lessons, which somehow remain mostly lesson still. Todoroki curls against Bakugou like a cat, mimicking his gestures.

Bakugou talks with Kirishima about things. Todoroki talks with Shinsou. (He’d like to talk with Midoriya, but even he realizes that wouldn’t be the best idea). On weekends, when other students head home to see family, Todoroki stays with his teachers and Shinsou instead of staying in the dorms like he used to. He sleeps on a futon in Shinsou’s room and tells him about dating Bakugou and wanting more, but not knowing what that “more” is. Shinsou suggests kissing. (And maybe privately teases Bakugou about it but Bakugou just flushes and gets agitated and blusters about being careful. And Shinsou, for the first time, calls Todoroki his little brother (actual ages do not matter) and tells Bakugou not to hurt him. Bakugou is both insulted and relieved by this. As if he would).

So the next night Todoroki asks Bakugou to kiss him. So Bakugou, blushing even though (thanks to Shinsou) he’d known this was coming, does. Soft and chaste. He pulls back and Todoroki blinks slowly and says “Again.” Bakugou smirks or grins and kisses him again. This one is not nearly as chaste.

At some point Bakugou tries to be nice and use ‘Todoroki’ instead of a nickname and Todoroki is like ‘I don’t like all of the nicknames, but I like that you don’t use my family name.’ And Bakugou gets it, but the nicknames start getting nicer. Less ‘halfie’ and more things like “strawberry swirl.”

The first time he does this in front of others, Kirishima glares at him and is trying to figure out how to draw the attention away when Yaoyorozu suddenly calls for him using his given name. The whispers shift immediately. And Kirishima, when he recovers his senses, thanks her for her quick thinking.

But such attention drawing doesn’t last forever, especially as Bakugou and Todoroki start gravitating toward each other during school hours (and the lesson portions of their evenings grow shorter and shorter). Then one day when everyone is starting to question them about it (maybe they fell asleep on the couch together in the common room?), Aizawa enters the room and sighs and says, “I hope you’re not concocting another scheme to harass my husband and me.”

Pin drop.

But at least no one cares about Bakugou and Todoroki being friends (or napping together) anymore.

But people will find out soon (and Bakugou is kinda itching to come out now that Aizawa and Present Mic have; it feels too much like backing down if he doesn’t), so Todoroki and Bakugou talk about what they are and what they want. And for Todoroki it is simple. He just wants to be close. And maybe he mentions also not wanting to be his father and that Bakugou reminds him that he doesn’t have to be, that he can be strong. And Bakugou wants to date. He wants to do all the shit people assume he wouldn’t be interested in. And he wants to do that with Todoroki. Plus, Todoroki’s belief in his strength is good. He feels calmer with him around. (So, basically, they’re each a rock for the other; two strong people making each other stronger by reminding each other of their own strengths and believing in one another).

It isn’t love. But it is something.

So, later that night, Bakugou sneaks down to the kitchen and makes a bento for Todoroki. The next day at lunch, when Todoroki is with his friends, he goes over to them and rolls his eyes at the inevitable takeout lunch. “Don’t eat that crap,” he says, pushing it aside and dropping the zaru soba bento in front of Todoroki. “Made this for you.” Todoroki smiles and thanks him. Bakugou kisses his cheek and is pulling away when Todoroki catches his wrist. “Again.” Bakugou laughs and maybe calls him “insatiable” or something and kisses him on the lips before returning to his own table.

(Kirishima and Yaoyorozu were not briefed on this. Their eyes meet in wide panic because they can’t beat that. They’re plotting across the room when Bakugou notices and waves them off.)

And Todoroki’s friends aren’t sure what just happened, so they ask. Todoroki smiles. “I figured out my type,” he tells them. “Bakugou.”

#bnha #todobaku #erasermic #kirishima/yaoyorozu #not!fic #actually wrote this back in jan 2020 but it has just sat in my google drive

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