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jakeyuni · 2 years

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ready? set…touchdown! tutor? | s. jaeyun

“he smiled at you as if you were the only person in the world. unknowingly to you, it’s because you were, in fact, the only person for jake.”

SYNOPSIS › you’d always known jake sim as the unbelievably handsome and smart jock/student that sat next to you in your advanced psychology class. similar to you, jake had always pined over you silently. so what happens when jake becomes your assigned tutor for the very class he’s your seat partner in and when a yearbook editorial feature causes [forces] you to get to know the boy better? complete, and utter, chaos—as the both of you deal through your growing feelings for one another.

PAIRINGS › tutor+football jock!jake x fem!yearbook photographer/editor reader

TROPE › mutual pining, friends + tutor & his tutee —> lovers

GENRES › fluff, slight crack, pretty heavy angst at times !!

WARNINGS › profanity, reader has slight anxiety/self-doubt/insecurity issues, jake is conflicted with his feelings, jake & reader high key suck at communicating which leads to issues, lots of cheesy lines, slow-burn tbh, reader & jake are very smart—y/n is just struggling, most importantly: heartthrob football jake who also doubles as a hot nerd ;)

EXTRAS › i suggest you read because it includes a steamy kiss at the end (pretend to be surprised) + but with a twist ;), oh also because it involves the high school football game experience [like the scene from the hilary duff cinderella movie!].

WORD COUNT › 10.2k+

PLAYLIST › hold on — flor, tek it — cafuné, sunsetz — c.a.s, car crash — eaJ, pluto projector — rex orange county

AUTHOR’S NOTE › goshh i really do hope this fic lives up to your expectations because i’m in love w the final product! enjoy :)

AT 8 AM SHARP EVERYTHING MORNING, JAKE SIM WOULD STARE AT THE DOOR, AWAITING YOUR ARRIVAL.

he’d observe the entrance of your psychology class every day and hope you weren’t absent. thankfully for him, you didn’t dare miss school unless you were actually sick. which to his delight, was rare. school had always been one of your top priorities, and jake had always admired you for your ambition.

every morning when you walked in, the gust of the wind from the windows open from the opposite side of the classroom would cause your hair to blow as you walked to your seat. a million fireworks would go off in jake’s head, as well as in his heart while he watched you slide into the seat beside him, giving you a nod. you smiled in response every time, even if you weren’t feeling like it that day.

every now and then, if jake was lucky, he’d smoothly slide close enough to you so that his elbow could touch yours. though you never moved upon the contact, you’d take note of how often he’d do it.

likewise, you wished he would never stop. because you were so attracted to jake sim, it sometimes gave you a stomach ache when you stayed up at night, daydreaming about what could maybe one day be.

if only he wasn’t the star quarterback of your school, along with being an insanely smart and sociable person. then you’d maybe think that you’d have a chance with him.

but with all the girls and cheerleaders that flocked around him, seeing him as a mere piece of prey for them to fiend on, you never bothered considering the odds.

oh, but if only you knew that jake wanted you just as much as you did him. perhaps then, you’d be together by now. but that’s not the way this story goes, now does it?

you swore you were about to throw up or at least faint. you paced the small space of the bathroom stall as you rehearsed your lines over and over again for your interview for the yearbook photo editor position. why did you think it was a good idea to apply for the photo editor position again? oh right, college applications.

you took in deep breaths just as fast as you let them out in an attempt to calm your nerves. feeling content with your less heated state, you pull out your phone to check the time. shit, it’s almost 4. i better head over to the yearbook room.

your walk to the room consists of self pep talk and fixing your blouse to make yourself look presentable. you had to have this position sealed on your transcript. you definitely knew you were capable, but this position was competitive and there were lots of candidates, making you less hopeful.

you walk into the yearbook staff office with your head held high and some of your practice photo shots placed between your torso and arm that you’d taken to show your work and potential to the interviewer—a senior whose position you’d be taking since she decided she had too much on her plate for her last year. this news made for an excessive amount of buzz for the underclassman, considering they all wanted her spot and would give anything for it.

you come face to face with the senior outside of the door, shin ryujin, who recognized you for your promptness almost immediately. ryujin wasted no time in getting down to business while you followed suit, taking a seat in front of the desk.

“alright, ms.y/l/n. tell me a bit about yourself. what made you want this position in yearbook out of all the organizations?”

you took in a sharp breath and smiled wide. “well, for one, i’ve been looking forward to becoming a part of the program for a while now and am thankful for being given a chance to book an interview with you. as you can see my grades are quite high and i’ve been trying to maintain my GPA. i thought trying something new would make me a better communicator and become more known to the school as a whole,” your breath wavers as the senior makes no effort to communicate any sort of note that she was listening to you—you just hoped that she was.

“i see. well, it’s nice to know that you’re smart and you seem to be quite productive. also, i like the perspective you add to your photos. the editing is pleasing to look at, too,” ryujin explains as she shuffles and switches between your transcript and photo shots simultaneously. “consider yourself to be near the top of my list. i’ll keep you in mind, y/n.”

that’s it? you thought. no further questions were asked as you bid your goodbyes and thanked ryujin for her time, which seemed to be none at all. 10 minutes was the amount of time your interview had occupied. and it was 10 minutes later when ryujin called you while you were walking dreadfully on your way home.

you remember freezing on the spot as ryujin told you that you were her last applicant interview and you by far, had made the best impression on her; meaning that you were actually a part of yearbook. this was real, this was happening, and you fought the urge to squeal improperly loud on the sidewalk for all your neighbors to hear.

to ryujin, it was simple. but now that you had the actual job of being the photo editor, your head began spinning. fuck, i didn’t actually think i’d get the position. nonetheless, you were full of glee. or, well, that was until you came home to multiple emails from ryujin bombarding you with your yearbook schedule and duties as well as events to attend to for the month. it was then that you realized how busy the next few months were going to be; you were in for one hell of a ride—to say the least.

“your grades are declining. what’s going on with you?” you felt like you were being scolded by your mother. you honestly didn’t know how it could happen, especially with your work ethic. how hard could balancing work, homework, clubs, and yearbook be? it sounded easy enough, right?

absolutely not, as it turned out. now you were sitting at the very desk you’d sat in for your interview two weeks earlier. except this time, you were experiencing different kinds of nerves, the type that made your heart sink into your chest, making you want to curl into a ball and disappear. ryujin’s death stare wasn’t helping either.

was it shame? no. guilt? perhaps. truthfully, you’d never had a ‘D’ in a class, ever. you’d never come to such a low point and swore you never would.

considering the end of the first semester was near, you couldn’t lock in your first senior year grade for advanced psychology with a ‘D’ permanently taunting you on your transcript. absolutely not. you knew things had to change—as did ryujin. you could tell by the way she leaned her elbows further down the desk, slightly frustrated. “i asked you a question, y/n.”

“yeah, no, i’m fine. it’s just that trying to find the time and balance between everything with yearbook was harder than i expected,” you don’t meet ryujin’s eyes that you’re sure are shooting daggers at you.

she scoffs. “you knew exactly what you were getting into the moment you walked in this room. don’t give me that ‘it’s too much for me to handle b.s.’ do you know how lucky you were to be selected? out of all the people that applied? it’s a shame that your grades are what they’ve become at the moment. you know that yours were the best out of all the applicants; though—your pictures need work, still. you can’t excuse your laziness, y/n.”

now, you were just angry. bitterness swept your tongue and seeped through your veins as you finally looked at ryujin. how dare she call you ‘lazy.’ you were everything but that—obviously because you wouldn’t have been chosen if you were so. you just needed help. and there was nothing wrong with receiving some when you actually needed it.

why was ryujin acting all high and mighty when she withdrawled from her position because she was tired? hypocrisy at its finest. sure, you’re one to be stubborn and prefer working independently, but you supposed things would have to change.

“i’m sorry. i know. i’m doing my best to make my grades and habits better. i’ll stay up later to study extra hard. i swear i’m doing the most i can, i’m just struggling,” you swipe your tongue over your lip in hopes to calm yourself down.

ryujin hums in response and goes to pull a file out of her desk drawer, slapping it onto the desk abruptly. you slightly jump as you scan the salmon-colored file; a familiar boy’s picture—laminated with his name in bold, is pasted on the flimsy yet heavy folder.

“this, is jake sim’s file. he’s at the top of your advanced psychology class and he’s going to be tutoring you from now on. i already asked your teacher for permission. ms.jung informed me that he’s your seat partner too, so i assume you’ll have no trouble getting along. jake said yes to tutoring you already. you have no exceptions, this is mandatory if you want to keep your position.”

you don’t answer ryujin, lost in your own thoughts. call it bad karmic luck or the universe doing you a possible favor. jake sim tutoring you? no way. not real. nothing’s real. what the fu-

“y/n. i’m serious about this. if you want to hold your position as photo editor and photographer, this is important. we can’t have someone with a D in any class on the yearbook staff, it puts no good to our name or brand.” a mocking laugh escapes her mouth. “if we allowed such mediocrity, then everyone would think they have a chance at making the team.”

okay, now that stung a little. “i’m completely aware. yes, i’m okay with jake tutoring me. do you know the details of it all?” you ask, now playing with the metal of your rings in an attempt to distract the images that were captivating your brain of you dragging ryujin by her perfectly poised hair.

“you mean the meet-up dates and everything?”

“yes, as in the timings and whether or not our schedules line up.”

you can practically hear the way ryujin rolls her eyes at you. “that’s for you and jake to figure out amongst yourselves, not my job. i’m doing enough as it is. this meeting is longer than i anticipated it to be, too.” she stands up and raises her eyebrows at you, wordlessly motioning for you to follow suit.

you measly get up and greet her goodbye while fighting the urge to get mouthy. there was no use in defying the help you very much needed. why were you so upset about jake tutoring you, anyway? wasn’t this all you’ve ever wanted, some one-on-one time with your year-long crush? you shrugged off the wavering nerves that weighed down your shoulders thanks to ryujin’s sternness and went to your locker. just as you were about to slam your locker shut, you hear the footsteps of someone approaching you.

“hey, y/n,” you feel a hand touch your shoulder and tense up; the voice, however, is one you could single out in a crowd of people in an instant. it was jake’s.

you slam your locker shut and turn around, instantly being met with the very boy you knew it would be. his hair was slightly tousled and wet, it was obvious he’d just finished football practice and showered. he carried a book that read ‘AP PSYCHOLOGY’ on the front. and god, his smile. he smiled at you as if you were the only person in the world. unknowingly to you, it’s because you were, in fact, the only person for jake.

you mirror his toothy smile, “hey jake.”

“so..” he starts off hesitantly as you tilt your head. “you know i’m your tutor for psych, yeah?”

you exhale through your nose and raise your eyebrows, “yeah, i’m fully aware of that. but when did ms.jung ask you to tutor me?”

“just this morning before class, actually.” he pauses as he motions for you to start walking with him. you follow regardless of where he’s taking you. “sorry i didn’t tell you this morning. i would’ve but we were taking notes all period.”

“it’s fine, really. i’m just embarrassed i need tutoring to begin with. i’ve never struggled so much and well…ryujin said i can’t be on yearbook anymore if i don’t get my grade up asap.”

“there’s nothing wrong with needing help, y/n. i’m also your seat partner and friend, not just your newly-assigned tutor.” you slightly nudge at his side with your elbow and he chuckles. “are you okay to be tutored right now or do you have somewhere to be?” the two of you come to a halt at the front steps of the library.

you sigh and jake looks at you questionably, his hand barely grazing the door handle of the school library. you look at him and see that his eyebrows are risen, anticipating your response. “i don’t see why not?”

“you don’t seem so sure of yourself.”

“no, i am. i’m just tired is all,” you lie straight through your teeth. tired wasn’t the right word to describe the tingly sensation you felt both in your heart and stomach—at all. you were actually very much awake now; about to be tutored by the jake sim is a fantasy only so many girls have most likely envisioned in their heads every night. the same could be said for you, and that’s exactly why it was taking everything in you to not run in the opposite direction. you were nervous, but jake didn’t have to know that.

“mkay then, shall we?” jake swings open the door and you clutch onto the straps of your backpack, hoping that jake would pinch you so you’d wake up from this dream.

***

two hours later and you were on the edge and perhaps on the brink of exploding. at one point, jake had to physically grab your hand to stop you from breaking your pencil (which gave you such grand butterflies you had to put your head down)—jake assumed it was because you needed a mental break, when in reality, you were dying of embarrassment. you couldn’t even hold eye contact with him properly.

frustrated, was an understatement. “i’m not getting this. i seriously don’t know why they’re so many variations of the same word and why i have to memorize the singular definitions of them all. this is so…pointless,” you whine.

“hey, hey, it’s alright. we can come back to this later. maybe you need to take a break.” jake was so patient with you it only made your heart beat faster than it already was. or maybe it was the energy drink jake gave you from the vending machine during your first break so you could power through the rest of the tutoring session. albeit, you’d never know which.

“no! i can do this. i just need to take a breather.” you stare down at the myriad of words on the slightly crumbled paper and groan, putting your head down for the second time that evening.

jake gets up and sits in the chair beside you, you lift your head at the sound of the movement only to have your head roughly meet his shoulder. “ow, that kinda hurt.”

“sorry,” he chuckles before rubbing the top of your head mindfully as you fix the stray strands of hair, your fingers touching his ever so slightly, “just thought i could help you better if i were closer to you,” he shrugs. oh no, your heart was beating fast again. but it’s just the energy drink, you tell yourself. sure, yeah, that’s all it was.

“i agree.” you snatch the paper out of jake’s hand, determined to finish studying the vocab list you were assigned to study this morning; you had a quiz on the words tomorrow. jake huffs at your action and smiles while he watches you rewrite and reread the words over and over again. he props his chin into his hand and idly admired you as you glance at him every now and then to ensure your work is correct, and every time the brown-haired boy acknowledged your silent yet needy look of reassurance, he would bob his head in your direction, humming in compliance.

each time jake fueled your brewing feelings that you’d shoved deep inside the depths of your brain—and heart with his small gestures and slight touches, you grew more fond of him, and you wanted to make the boy proud. and if proud meant that he’d smile at you every time you whined or recalled a story of something dumb that happened in class out of elation, you’d take any given opportunity to study with jake.

okay, so maybe you didn’t study hard enough. the big fat ‘C’ written in red ink at the top of your vocab quiz was taunting you, and the way ms.jung had shaken her head at you before handing the paper with an ‘A’ written at the top—to jake, only made you feel worse about yourself.

jake reassuringly rubbed your shoulder and threw you a small smile, mouthing an ‘it’s okay, tutoring later today, hm?’ to which you simply nodded before slumping in your seat for the remainder of the period, tuning out every word that came out of ms.jung’s mouth.

“i studied for three hours with you yesterday, then went home and studied for another one hour by myself. this can’t be possible,” you groan, now sat at your signature tutor-session seat at the library, jake by your side as he bounces his leg up and down out of habit.

“i know but maybe we need to find the most effective method for you to remember information. clearly what we practiced yesterday wasn’t very useful, and that’s alright. progress takes time,” jake beams, motioning with his hands to emphasize that it was normal for there to be academic obstacles—though it didn’t feel that way for you, especially considering your history of continuous high grades and accomplishments.

his positive attitude was in stark contrast to your own and it would annoy you if it weren’t for the fact that he was the one saying all the words.

“mkay, you’re right jake. thank you.” you drag a small smile before pulling out your supplies and thinking of a new study method to use for your next vocab quiz—which was also tomorrow.

jake sits next to you, giving you hums of approval and squeezing your shoulders everytime you repeat a definition to him correctly. the way you slightly flinch and become stiff whenever jake touches you is quite embarrassing and you silently pray that he doesn’t say anything about your body language. oh, but he does.

“is everything good?”

“yup,” you emphasize by popping the last letter, “everything’s just fine.” desperate to ease the weird tension, you needed to change the subject. you figured that now was the perfect time to ask jake about yearbook.

“hey jake, i have to do this photo spread for the school sports section, and was wondering if you’d want to be featured in it? i’d have to interview first, though.” you turn your body so it’s facing jake directly, your knees now touching—jake doesn’t budge an inch, to your surprise. but then again, he never did when your elbows touched during class. yet maybe you needed to backtrack a bit, you’re aware jake’s normally this touchy with all his friends. but if that was the case, then why do the touches feel so different and so much more intimate?

jake’s eyes turn into tiny crescents as he grips your wrists out of joy, “really y/n? you’d do that for me?” he looks like a puppy about to be given a treat and you can’t help but giggle at the sight.

“of course, jake. people like you…like a lot, anyways. plus, consider your feature as a way of me saying ‘thank you’ for tutoring me. it’s a small gesture to begin with and you deserve this.” jake didn’t have to know that the yearbook journalist of the team tore her acl and was on temporary leave—(perks of being a soccer athlete and yearbook writer), meaning that now you had the duty of writing for the athletics’ feature page on top of your tremendous workload and tutoring sessions. how fun! choosing to feature jake specifically, however, was your doing.

the boy lowers his head at the kindness of your words and looks up at you, biting his lip. it’s only when you feel your body heating up that you realize that jake hasn’t loosened his grip on your wrists, causing you to look down at the source of contact. “oh, i’m so sorry,” he begins to panic a little. embarrassed, he starts to retreat his fingers, but you had other plans in mind.

you shake your head to let him know you didn’t want him to pull away, at least not yet, letting out a taut laugh and pulling his hands back. only this time, he holds your hands inside his own, bringing them to rest in his lap. “you have soft hands, jake,” you blurt out. the undeniable tension was deafening and you had to say something.

jake’s throat goes numb and he knows he’s a goner. he never knew why any ounce of game he had vanished whenever he was around you. you blew all the air out of him every time you would: chew on the end of your pencil, play with your hair when you were bored or confused, make intense eye contact with him—showing him you were paying complete attention to his notions. or just in general, whatever you did made his heart rate pick up. you were utterly breathtaking, he just wished he could say it to you without feeling like the world would topple over every time he tried to do so.

“thanks…i moisturize.” jake wanted to dash out the building. i moisturize? really jake? could you be any more awkward?

you laugh again, lightheartedly, and pull your hands away; jake thinks he’s lost every shred of a chance he had with you because of how idiotically vague his answer was. he honestly had no idea where his flirty demeanor went whenever he was with you as of late. given the situation though, you knew he was nervous by the redness of his cheeks and ears and so were you—you were just better at hiding it.

with that, you continued your session. the entire time you wondered if jake would ever hold your hands again. you hoped he would, but you were torn. his response irked you a bit. it was unlike him: dry and awkward. you knew you’d be thinking about this for the rest of the week.

you know what else you’d be thinking about the rest of the week? jake sim inviting you to do the interview for his yearbook feature…in his own room…which is in his house.

fuck, fuck, fuck, no i can’t do this. you didn’t think jake would go as far to invite you to his house.

you were trying your best to not get attached to the star quarterback of the football team—but jake was making not catching feelings increasingly difficult for you. especially considering he was known to not be a player, despite every person to exist throwing themselves at him, jake had morals and priorities that didn’t concern being in a relationship; plus, you recall the time he’d casually told you during class that he was looking for something real, something raw, something long-term. back then, you’d brushed off the tmi that he’d nonchalantly said as if it didn’t matter. if only you knew how much that minuscule piece of information mattered to you now.

that’s when you knew why jake was unlike all the other jocks. not just because he was one of the most dorkiest nerds you’d ever met, but because he had a heart made of gold and a smile that could rid of all the evil in the world.

regardless, you didn’t want to feel the way you did—and it pained you that were unable to stop jake from occupying every corner of your brain. what pained you most, however, was the fact that you doubted he’d actually want to be in a relationship with you due to his commitment to school, football, and extracurriculars. thinking about the boy, most days, was a chore.

as of now, you were sitting cross-legged on jake’s bed with him beside you: notebook in hand and voice recording app open while jake clears his throat to prepare for his interview.

“this is y/n y/l/n recording, photo editor and newly assigned temporary writer for the school’s yearbook, and i am here today with jake sim—star quarterback of the football team and one of the star students of our school, to interview him regarding his educational and athletic dynamics.”

jake’s eyes bore into yours and you can tell he’s nervous—his lips are redder than before, courtesy of all the biting he was doing to them while you were talking.

when he began speaking, the way the words rolled off his tongue made you swoon. you felt sort of culpable about it, the time and place was most inappropriate for you to be ogling jake. you couldn’t help it, though. but really, could you even be blamed? the way his white tee hung loosely over his broad shoulders, his glasses perked up on the bridge of his nose, and the way his eyes would narrow every time he spoke about a narrative that he was especially passionate or knowledgeable about, caused you to internally groan.

“…i suppose balancing my academic schedule with my athletic schedule can be a bit difficult at times, but it’s all about the mindset i keep to help myself pave my way to success. yet, of course, balance is everything to me and i wouldn’t be capable without my friends, family, and peers by my side. thank you.” jake smiles at you and rolls back onto the bed as he finishes off the interview, kicking his legs up in excitement and satisfaction like a little kid.

“woah, that was…amazing jake. thank you for saying so much and opening up to me, i have so much to use from this interview,” you let out a heavy sigh, “—i hope i won’t disappoint.”

jake scoffs, “y/n don’t say stuff like that, you could never disappoint me.” he stands up from the bed and sticks out his hand, “down to go eat something? you should have dinner here.”

you sucked in a breath. what happened to the shy and awkward jake that could barely maintain eye contact with you at the library when you held hands? “sure, i would absolutely love to.”

***

dinner with jake was beyond amazing. he even went as far as to pull out the dining chair for you before the two of you began eating the sandwiches jake whipped up. the both of you would alternate between cracking terrible jokes, talking about school, and simply chewing in silence while stealing fleeting glances at each other. the tension was occupying every vessel in your bodies; both of you could feel it.

it’s when you stood behind jake as he washed the dishes, and when he turned back to cheekily smile at you, that you knew you loved jake sim. it may have seemed crazy and too rushed to anyone else, but you knew your heart better than anyone else; you knew the moment you laid eyes on jake on the first day of class, he wasn’t just some boy, he was special. you loved him for more than just his looks or his social status, you loved him because there was never a moment where anything felt unauthentic, nor a moment where you regretted being with him.

similarly, jake had been infatuated with you ever since he saw you walk into class, sitting beside him—out of all the other seats you could’ve chosen. that day, he promised to himself that he’d wait for you every day, even if it meant waiting an eternity.

the day ms.jung asked him to tutor you, he vowed to himself that he’d do anything to get to know you better, to build a relationship with you. because jake sim had one thing in his mind: you.

it would’ve killed him to not make something more from what had already begun brewing; he was determined to ask you about what had been spiraling in his mind. later tonight, i’ll do it later.

***

jake had offered to walk you home after dinner and he knew it was the perfect opportunity to talk about his feelings with you. you’d conversed with him for a good hour before you received a phone call from your mother: asking you to come home since it was dark out now and she was worried about how you’d get home. you opened up to him about your life, and he allayed you as if he knew you like the back of his hand.

your way home was mainly silent, with jake clearing his throat every now and then—while you stared at the ground, chewing on the inside of your cheek, your shoulder touching his as you strolled through the dimly lit streets.

“hey y/n, can we talk about…us?” jake inquired as he slowed down his pace, stopping in front of one of the lamp posts.

“us?” you didn’t know what he meant by that. was it good? was it bad? jake gives you a faint smile and your shoulders become less tense. “sure, you can talk to me about anything jake, you know that.”

“i just, don’t know what we are, and it’s confusing me.” his voice hitches and you step closer towards him.

“well, what do you want us to be?”

“that’s the thing, i don’t know. i’ve never felt this way about anyone before. i’ve always been so focused on being the leader, the quarterback, keeping up with clubs and school in general, to please my parents and to make sure i don’t let my team down—“ he looks at the ground, defeated. “—that i don’t know how to distinguish between if what i’m doing is for myself or if it’s really just to satisfy other people. i’m…torn.” he quirks his head to the side at the last word as if he’s asking himself a question.

you sigh and motion for jake to continue walking. he’d never been this vulnerable; always the golden boy that never lets anyone see him at the lowest of moments. you didn’t know he felt so strongly about all this. that he felt so strongly about…you. “i’m sorry you feel so much pressure on yourself, jake. you know there’s no harm in putting yourself first. i’m here for you, and, we can figure out whatever we are as we go. none of it has to be sudden.”

“yeah, i’m still figuring myself out, i think i need to know what i want before i go into something completely confused. i don’t want to risk what we have by messing things up for us just because of how many priorities i have.”

“oh, i see,” you murmur.

you didn’t realize when you reached your home, but jake’s words were incessantly echoing in your head with every step taken. you assumed he meant that you weren’t one of, nor his—priority, at least that’s what it felt like at the moment.

one thing was for sure, jake felt even more defeated than before. this was new territory for him, and he was overwhelmed. as for you? you merely spared him a smile and a wee ‘thank you’ before you dragged yourself inside. did i just get rejected?

your lack of words as jake dropped you off was daunting, he wanted nothing more than to be with you. he realized as he walked himself home, that he was in fact, having an epiphany: he was a confused idiot that needed to figure himself and his feelings out, quick—before he lost you for good.

“if you know you really like her, you need to stop leading her on. it’s shitty of you to do that, jake. you know that,” sunghoon, jake’s best friend, sternly tells him.

the two boys were sitting at the library: jake sitting across from sunghoon, and sunghoon sitting in the seat that you usually occupied during your tutoring sessions.

“i know, i know. i just,” jake lifts his head up in frustration, staring up at the ceiling before he lets out a soft groan, “i like her so much and we talked about our feelings like i told you, but i couldn’t just tell her that i’m not ready to get into something serious yet because football season isn’t over. i would’ve sounded like such a douche!”

sunghoon lets out a wheezy laugh. “you’re fucking with me, right? that’s the reason why you’re not ready to be with her just yet?”

“no…well, partially? our tutoring sessions have been going well and she’s so smart, obviously—she’s just struggling with this particular unit. it’s not even that-“

the other cuts him off, raising an eyebrow at the boy, “get to the point. then what is it?”

“it’s my dad. he’s been on my ass about football because the next game is a big one and it’s also the last one of the season, we made the championships which means there are going to be scouts there. all my dad does is talk about football—and my mom is focused on my grades so much it’s suffocating—the both of them are absolutely insufferable most of the time,” jake mewls.

“jake,” the former starts off softly, “you know how fucking capable you are. you’re the smartest guy i know. don’t let your parents and their nagging get in the way of something you for once in your life—know for a fact you 100% want.”

it was as if jake had been struck with a bolt of lightning. a bolt that—in the very split second of sunghoon’s words turning into a mere echo, all the doubts he had about pursuing you, had vanished and turned into nothing but absolute dust.

jake got up from his seat with an urge to run to you, to tell you he loves you and wants nothing more than to be with you—but he knew he couldn’t. so instead, he settled on waiting for you to attend your last tutoring session while sunghoon talked with him to ease his mind of all thoughts in his brain that transpired of you.

in truth, you and jake had been conversing normally. well, aside from the fact that the normality of your conversations only regarded the bases of your tutoring sessions. there was still tension, yes. but none of the lingering stares or fleeting touches remained. the both of you stayed holding back from the brink of destruction—the brink of you specifically being brought to your breaking point.

you wanted nothing more than to grab jake by his shirt and slap him silly—or possibly also grab him by his shirt and kiss him. you truly weren’t sure which you craved more. because, sure, jake did partly break your heart when he left you hanging and feeling sour the night he walked you home, but that didn’t mean your mind halted all thoughts about him entirely. if anything, the lack of communication made you want him more than you’d ever wanted him before. and you weren’t quite sure that this was the way you were supposed to be feeling—given the situation at hand.

funny, right? the way space between two individuals is supposed to make them think about their relationship, let them think about themselves, and grow. but in your case, as well as jake’s, the prolonged space only made the two of you crave each other more—ignited the fire between your bodies even more.

the unspeakable tension never eased, even if you weren’t making mindless conversation with the other or making eye contact that made you both embarrassing heat up the way you once did.

as you sat with jake for your last tutoring session with him, you caught him glancing at you, feeling a pair of eyes boring into your skull, and you suddenly felt tense, insecure. all the feelings and doubts of even liking him were resurfacing in that very moment, making you feel ill.

you swallow thickly. “can i help you?”

“yeah—no, sorry. just thinking,” jake shakes his head at the stumbling of his own words.

“about?”

“us.”

“oh,” your eyes drop down to the pencil you’re holding.

“i feel like the way i left you hanging the other night wasn’t the way i intended our conversation to go,” he breathes out.

you dryly laugh. “yeah, well what happened..is in the past now.” you clear your throat, unsure of whether or not you should say what’s on your mind. “you don’t have to entertain me with an apology, jake. you made it clear that you’re not ready, and at this point, i’m not sure if you’ll ever be.”

jake’s eyes widen in remorse and you can’t help but look away from his guilty pupils. “but you see—that’s the thing. i do want you, y/n. i want you so bad. you’re all i ever think about.”

your heart drops, and you feel all tingly inside, but you’re quick to remind yourself that jake’s flattery doesn’t make up for how he’s made you feel in the past. they’re just words, you think.

“i’m not just saying all of this to play with you or lead you on,” he continues.

“if you want me so badly, then why don’t you show me that you truly want me?” your voice breaks, and jake can’t help but usher himself over to you, kneeling down and turning your chair so that you were facing him.

a single tear drops from your eyes and jake’s quick to wipe it away with his hand before cradling your cheek with the same hand, ever so slightly rubbing the flesh using his thumb.

“give me some time, y/n. i’m incredibly preoccupied right now—i know that isn’t an excuse, but i want nothing more than to be with you and make us official. i’ll make this all up to you soon enough. just let the final football game of the season be over, and i’ll show you how much i want you. i promise.”

you let out a weak laugh at the sincerity of his words because you never meant for your last tutoring session with him to be so vulnerable. it was only your last because you now had an A in the class, meaning you didn’t have to rely on jake to tutor you, it’d be a waste of time on both ends. yet, it was ironic, the way you wanted nothing more than to waste away endless hours with jake, talking about absolutely everything and anything. that’s why the thought of this being your last possible chance to communicate with the boy effectively, mattered to you.

that’s also why you were significantly grateful that jake had spoken up first, because though you felt absolute embarrassment from the way the other kids in the library were staring at you and jake, all that mattered to you was that this, in fact, would not be that last time you spoke to jake sim.

you let out a chuckle and crinkle your nose, going to wipe the remainder of your tears with your sleeve, prompting jake to pinch your cheeks as he goes back to sit down in his own seat across from you.

“i understand. i’ll wait for you, jake. as long as it takes, and until you’re ready to give me your undivided attention, i’ll wait.”

“you won’t have to wait long, y/n. and when you think you do, remember my words, mm?” he bites his lip out of curiosity for your answer.

“i will,” you respond before gathering your things and putting them into your bag, “oh, and before i forget, i still have to take pictures of you for yearbook, i wanna be there for you, plus those pictures are going to be the final touch of your editorial feature,” you remind him.

“can’t wait to see your face tomorrow at the game then,” jake teases as he walks with you out of the library.

“you’re seeing my face right now—too, though?”

“what can i say? i can never get enough of you,” he says admirably.

you pretend to gag at his words but the butterflies erupting from your stomach say otherwise. “gross, sim,” you lightly punch his shoulder. “oh, and jake?”

“yeah?”

“thank you for tutoring me, i appreciate you.”

“anything for you, y/n. anything.”

you tsk at his cheesiness but smugly smile as he contemplates his next action before taking your hand in his, insisting to walk you home for the night.

during your chat with the boy on your way home, you feel nothing but absolute content wash over your limbs. staring idly at his shining eyes under the light of the iridescent moon, wondering positively about what the future for the two of you holds; thankful that the bad note you two left on, was now restored.

it was game day, and you were nervous, to put it lightly. you’d messaged jake earlier, hyping him up and wishing him luck before he went to prepare himself for the big, the last, and by far the most important football game of the season—at least for jake. this game would determine if any scholarships were guaranteed within his near future.

though you were excited about jake and seeing him all passionate with his game face on, you were torn, bittersweet sensations swept through your body as you walked to your school. you put on some slight makeup, your tote bag was filled with your usual items, and your camera was hanging around your neck, secured by the camera strap.

you weren’t quite sure why you were so nervous. perhaps it was the way the conversation in the library you had with jake a couple of days prior went unusually well. you had hope—for you and him. since he’d promised you that he would, at last, make things official and show you how much he truly wants you the moment the game/season ends, you figured that was the source of your panging heart.

nonetheless, you were ready. ready to take the perfect shots of jake as he [hopefully] scores a touchdown, wowing the crowd, the myriad of girls who flaunt themselves at him, and the scouts that were exhilarated to finally see him in action.

you turn the corner of the vastly wide and freshly green field of grass with huge drawn on markers (for the players) using white paint, and find jake throwing the football amongst his teammates. one of them, park jongseong—or jay, as many referred to him, noticed you first, motioning with a dip of his head to jake that you were walking towards them.

jake throws the ball to jay and the former pats him on the back rather playfully, giving him a quick wink, causing the other to shake his head at him before he jogs to meet you. “hey,” he greets with a sparkling grin, “you’re early!”

“yeah i wanted to scope out the scene a bit y’know? plus i figured i’d take some extra candid shots of you and the others practicing before the game starts—so ryujin can get off my back about ‘upping my photography skills,’ or whatever,” you explain.

the boy‘s mouth opens and closes, then opens again before he speaks, as if he were finding just the right words to say to you. you found it quite amusing, and cute. “that’s very studious of you, y/l/n.”

you snicker at his foolishly flirtatious tone, “you know me, the most studious girl ever known to man-kind,” you retort.

jake swings his hands' side to side before interlocking them with yours, “so you’re saying you didn’t come early just because you wanted to wish me good luck on my last game of the season, correct?” he pouts sarcastically.

you roll your eyes in a ridiculing manner, “hmm, i don’t know?” you pretend to contemplate, tapping at your chin playfully. “maybe i am, maybe i’m not…guess you’ll never find out, sim.”

he exhales sassily before tearing the distance between your hands. “guess that means you have some duties to attend to, hm?”

“no, no! i can stay for a bit…for you—too, before you have to go,” you mumble.

the boy holds one of your hands once again, reaching for your head and tucking a stray strand of hair behind your ear that was blocking your face due to the wind. your mouth went agape and curved into a line, unable to form coherent words due to jake’s intents, causing you to stare at the sky out of sudden false curiosity; the clouds looked particularly stormy and mundane, unlike earlier. the seemingly windy weather wasn’t expected, which is why you made a discerning sound.

jake follows your movements, similarly staring at the grey sky. “looks like it might rain,” he huffs, slightly agitated. “i’m hoping it doesn’t—as much as i love the rain, it could ruin my chances for tonight.”

“yeah, it could. don’t worry though,” you beam. “you’ll crush it no matter what. you always do.”

a distant call of jake’s name is heard a couple of meters away, both you and the boy turn to make out that jay and sunghoon stand beckoning for jake to join them in the lockeroom and get into his uniform.

jake ruffles your hair in a childish manner at the disappointment that protrudes your features. “i gotta go, but i’ll see you out in the bleachers, mkay? make sure you get a good seat! i want you to be the first person i see when i score that touchdown,” he winks at you as he jogs backward for a bit until he disappears into the field to meet with the guys.

you were left a blushing mess, jake always managed to leave you in disarray. you couldn’t say you didn’t like the way he made you feel, though. you’d give your all to feel the way you do when you’re with jake every day, if you could.

you prompted on visiting your locker and taking pictures with your camera of the posters that showcased the football team players, advertising for everyone to attend the final game of the season. you smiled to yourself when your eyes settled upon jake, yet kept moving around the school tentatively before you realized that you’d better head back to the bleachers and get a good seat. you wanted to see jake from one of the higher levels of the bleachers, just as he wanted you to be, directly in his line of sight, too.

***

a crowd of bustling and noisy students surround you as you stay seated on the perfect spot in the bleachers. the thrumming music and thumping drums of your school’s band is echoing throughout the stadium as they play the school’s arrangement of any football game, and you can’t help but feel giddy inside. high school football games were always an event of their own, an event that everyone constantly spoke about and fancied getting extravagantly ready for. tonight, was no different.

girls wore shimmering eyeshadow sparkling on their eyelids that reflected brightly every time the colored lights hit them, and colored variations of paint neatly striped over their cheeks to show school spirit. you, too, wore sparkly eyeshadow and had a bandanna that displayed your school’s official colors securely wrapped around your thigh. it was preppy, the entire vibe of the scene that unfolded in front of your eyes.

your nerves were jolting with glee as soon as the band’s music crescendoed with the football team that came running from the side of the field from the locker room and tore through the banner that was made for them, with jake in front—as he was their star quarterback.

you grin to yourself when eavesdropping on the endless chatter of girls talking about how hot jake looked and how they’d give anything to be with him. you didn’t bother to be jealous, not just because he wasn’t quite yours yet, but because you knew you had something especially intimate with jake that they did not; you were sure of it.

you tune out the excess voices and focus on jake, watching his every move as he and his teammates huddle in the middle of the field and perform their usual group chant before parting ways to their designated places on the field.

your eyes rake over jake’s form as you watch him assemble to his position, the timer still has a bit of time left until the buzzer sounds to commence the start of the game, and you watch jake rise out of his position a little as he notably wanders his eyes through the crowd in the bleachers—until he finally finds your figure. you make eye contact with the boy and cheekily nod your head at him so he’s aware you’ve noticed him. in response, the boy does the same and bites his lip coyly before getting on his knees so that he’s properly in position.

you overhear some people murmur your name and you’re sure they’ve noticed the silent interaction between you and jake, yet you remain unbothered and keenly prideful, nonchalantly cracking your neck side to side to give them all a little show.

“[TEN]-HUT,” shouts the coach right as the buzzer sounds and that’s when you know, the game has begun.

you truly don’t know much about football, just that it revolves around a bunch of guys tackling each other—or something of the sort (?). nonetheless, you remind yourself that you’re here to take pictures of jake for his feature, and get some close-up shots of your school’s dance team, as well as cheer during the halftime performance.

your estimate is that you could get some high-quality shots of jake as he paces around his spot in the field, jutting around not as fast as he’d be when he’s running, and your mind lives up to its words.

you manage to snap some ethereal shots of jake with his sweat glistening and hair that’s adorned to his forehead and sticking out a bit despite the heavy helmet that covers his countenance.

halftime rolls around and you jump down from your seat in the bleachers to take some up-close shots of the dancers with their bedazzled uniforms and of the band playing, before returning to your seat, anticipating jake to make his touchdown sometime soon; you could see the scouts discussing amongst themselves a couple of meters below you, and an unsettling feeling made home in your stomach. you couldn’t imagine how jake might’ve been feeling.

right as halftime ends and you get a glimpse of jake and his teammates rolling into the field for the second half of the game after replenishing their bodies. the boys on defense are doing especially well and you feel elated for what’s to come.

it’s been a bit, however, and the game is nearing its end, you snap one last shot of jake right before he goes to snatch the ball out of the opposing teams’ player’s reach and makes a beeline for the marker checkpoint he needs to get to before he can score a touchdown—he looked absolutely breathtaking with his mouth agape and face slightly scrunched up in focus.

you lift off of your seat in preparation for jake’s victory, and he makes it—jake leads his team to triumph.

screams erupt from the crowd of students around you as they all jump onto their feet, moments after jake kicks the ball. your eyes locate downward towards the scouts and you see them talking abruptly with joy written all over their faces; a huge smile of your own breaks out on your face, and you’re relieved. what you don’t expect with all the commotion that surrounds you, is the rain that starts abruptly pouring.

sounds of groans fill the air as a good amount of students clatter amongst themselves to find immediate shelter from the rain, but you couldn’t care less, all you cared about was your boy.

you, too, jump out of your seat after the shock of what’s happening washes over your body a bit, but it only heightens as you watch jake throw off his helmet onto the grass and run to you with all the energy that his body has left to give.

he’s sweaty, he’s tired, he’s drenched with rainwater, and his mind is in a whirl of how he truly just made a touchdown, but all he can think about is you.

you don’t have time to process the way jake ignores the ridiculously loud remarks of congratulations the scouts throw at jake as he speeds past them, nor can you see straight when you realize that jake has run up the stairs of the bleachers and is now standing right in the tight space in front of you.

jake doesn’t care that the majority of students are watching him—and now you, nor does he focus on the fact that the both of you are soaked. his eyes flicker once to your lips then twice, yours alternate between his eyes and his lips, smiling when he wraps an arm around your waist and tilts your head up to look at him directly with the other.

you lightly pant and begin to match the rising of his chest, your mouth opens and you’re left speechless. “jake?”

you say his name as if it’s the last time you’d speak of it again, and he takes his chance, he takes it as confirmation for all that he’s ever witnessed between the both of you.

the moment jake’s lips meet yours, you swear your heart stops, all background noise becomes a blur as jake’s lips feverishly chase your own. his grip on your waist tightens and your chests collide as his hand travels further up your face, cupping your jaw. you’re left in awe as he quickly slides his tongue into your mouth when you gasp at the intensity of the kiss and the atmosphere, bodies hot with passion, the rain adding to the aura of fictionality as the droplets stick to your hair and drop down to the space where your lips connect.

your noses constantly brush over each other as jake slightly bites down on your bottom lip and holds your jaw in place so he can feel you like he’s been dying to do ever since he'd laid eyes on you. you stay there, kissing him back softly when he halts the sinking of his teeth from your lips and gives you a few soft pecks. you’re stunned and breathless, gasping after he parts from you.

as soon as he separates, you break out into one of the widest smiles known to your muscles. jake reciprocates your same smile and grabs a hold of your waist with both hands, yours balancing your body on his shoulders as you rest your forehead against jake’s. his smile never fades, and neither does yours.

“wow,” you drag out. “that was…insane, and definitely one way of showing me that you want me.”

the boy laughs breathily, “my touchdown or the kiss?” he sarcastically inquires.

“both,” you spit out, still smiling.

“well, i told you i’d live up to my word, didn’t i? i promised you.”

your vision threatens to be blocked by forming tears, ironically not by the copious amount of rain plunging from the sky, but before you’re able to do so, jake isolates your bodies and wraps an arm around you, sensing your emotions, and you sniffle. “yeah, you did. i never should have doubted you, sim.”

“i’m here now, that’s all that matters.” the quarterback pecks your cheek and gives you a soft look before he heads down to the field once again, physically dodging victory punches and flirtatious but supportive winks from his teammates as a testament to what they all witnessed and what you had just experienced.

the team does their victory chant one last time and you wait for the boy right beside the bleachers where there's a built roof as you watch him split from his team and go to discuss with the scouts and his parents that give you some sly smiles. thankfully, it’s only a couple of minutes before the boy comes running to you, you didn’t know how much longer you could have lasted without the warmth of his touch.

jake takes your hand and spins you around as if you were his princess, the only girl that lived to exist. because to him, that’s exactly what you were. he kisses you once again and doesn’t seem to want to stop until you remind him that you’re still in public and very much visible to any bystanders.

he groans in annoyance but indulges your figure by securing his arm around your shoulders as you walk into the school’s locker room to let jake shower and clean himself up.

he insists on you changing into the spare sweats and jersey he keeps in case of emergencies to keep you warm and dry while he freshens himself up.

the school is empty and quiet. after his shower, jake meets you waiting on the bench outside of the locker room, sitting down beside you, flooding you with compliments about how beautiful you looked in his jersey and as a whole, then kissing you ever so delicately. “you’re wearing my jersey and the entire school saw us kiss, you know that means you’re mine now, right?”

“jake sim, i’ve been yours ever since you offered me that piece of candy the first day of jung’s psychology class,” you laugh out, resting your head on his shoulder.

“you’re mine, forever now, though. i made a promise, and i don’t intend on ever breaking it.”

“neither do i,” you vocalize along with a kiss to his cheek.

you were his, as he was yours, and that’s all there was to it.

jake sim will forever be your hot, nerdy-jock boyfriend, along with you, his precious, most enticing, most amusing, and most perfect girlfriend.

this story may not have been like all the others, with the cheerleader ending up with the star quarterback of the football team. but that’s what mattered most, your story had character and realness; not every path to romance is smooth and easily obtained. but i suppose that’s what makes your narrative most interesting.

jake didn’t want a facade of a relationship, he didn't want any pages left blank or unturned, he wanted fair play, he wanted—you.

now that he finally had you, and you had him, it’s rather plausible to say that jake sim scored more than just one touchdown in his lifetime, is it not?

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askandsmile · 3 years

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i got all y'all's messages and i do think i have more to say, but at the same time i'm just like 🥴️🥴️🥴️

this season isn't great, but this episode was terrible. evan is a terrible writer. he's also a fucked up troll. he likes that he's the b*rchie king, he likes b*rchie, he projects onto them. and truly, the less we try to explain anything about this, the better.

i think i need to wait and watch what comes next (from better writer's hands tbh) until i say anything else regarding canon.

but long post ahead, cause i've been wanting to address something that it's not even coherent, but it's just making me insane lol.

we have 6 episodes ahead of us. 6 weeks. if you guys freak out with every single thing that happens, no one is going to enjoy anything anymore.

i don't have spoilers. all the spoilers i had, from when i was in the clubhouse with evan, i gave to you. the way i read the interviews, i told you. i don't have anything else to add. i never had inside info or anything like that, all my speculations were based on rumors going around *and* the bts we got.

all that i could speculate i already did.

"oh, but what if--"

well. when s4 ended, i said, "if they're gonna make veronica look like archie's second choice, i'm not going to watch s5 live". i carried on watching because they didn't, they made it quite clear that veronica is archie's first choice seven years later.

i'm saying it again, "if they're gonna make varchie go through some b*rchie drama/bullshit again, i'm not going to watch s6 live."

if i do watch it, it'll be the same by the end of it if they get a s7. you have to go episode by episode with this show until the entire journey makes sense.

that's all i can do! that's all i can control. that's all you guys can control: the time and dedication you're willing to give to this show.

(i write a fic that's never-ending and even with roughly 4 readers left, i am pushing through because i want to finish it. this is the time and dedication i'm willing to give to this show, writing this fic to those who still enjoy it and to myself, and to varchie.)

so my suggestion now is, let's watch the episodes. it's 6 weeks. are you going to be anxious for 4-5 out of 6 weeks because of something that maybe, possibly, perhaps will happen? are you going to try to make me and other people anxious because you are? i'm choosing, at this point, to trust my ship and the story they've been telling about them.

i know it's harder for bugheads at the moment (reminder that i, myself, am not one although i did love them back in s1 and do support their relationship in the core four context) because they've been dealing with another love interest, on top of cole and lili's breakup, on top of not getting a lot of content, or bts, etc, etc.

but as a varchie shipper...guys, i've been there!

i have seen reggie tell veronica they could be endgame. i have seen archie dance a duet with josie saying he'd fight for her. i have seen archie writing a song to someone else. i have seen veronica getting married to another guy, and then possibly sleep with him after sort of maybe getting back together with archie. trust me, no one in this fandom knows better what you guys are going through right now.

so yes, maybe jabitha will date, or maybe they won't. maybe bh will get back together this season, maybe they won't. it doesn't mean the end of bughead, not at all. look at all the shit other ships have been through (even b*rchies, really). you guys are fine.

is the show good right now? no, it's not. i thought it wasn't so bad until 5x08 (even with the b*rchie thing) but then it just went downhill, and 5x13 was the worst episode ever. no wonder it had 0.7 ratings. but like, does that mean it will stay so bad? i don't know. i haven't watched 5x14, 5x15, 5x16, etc. i don't know what's coming. it might be great! it might suck.

and you guys don't get it, half the varchie fandom left in s3 because there was no sight of varchie anywhere, and then we were pleasantly surprised with the best build up ever in s3C. but you know what? sometimes i wish varchie hadn't gotten back together then! so we would see more of that buildup, some actual reaction from archie seeing veronica choose reggie instead of him, etc. it would've opened a sea of possibilities for a good story.

and whether you like it or not, this is giving more space for other characters to be around. they're not developing them. they're not writing them well. but you can't deny that we have seen more of toni, reggie, fangs, even kevin and cheryl, than ever since...ever.

and it's okay if you just watch for your ship. but the show, and the writers, are not worried about you shdhshd. i think there has been a misconception about that. the ships exist within the show, and this season feels so weird because the core four is apart and bh is apart, but the show is ultimately about the characters and their good/bad decisions.

so, thinking about the characters, ask yourself: is archie in conditions to be with veronica right now? is betty in conditions to be with jughead right now? jug and archie are in their way to healing, it looks like, but betty still isn't. is veronica in conditions to be committed again atm? i don't know. will this change in a couple of episodes? maybe!

and it's same for other characters. choni are going through the exact same thing bh is, they just don't have the impending doom that is b*rchie hovering above, but i guess no one doubts choni.

but imagine if they get back to choni and just give them a few throw away lines and boom, it's all magically fixed. wouldn't they feel betrayed? don't you enjoy the aspect that bh is taking time for this reunion after they were completely shattered? i know i would've written varchie differently if i could.

anyway. it's useless to think "oh, zalben said this, evan said that, ras said this" when we can't control what they say, or how they think. we can only interpret it (90% of the time i've been right about them but whatever) and we can only watch the show in front of us and absorb something from that.

(which is hard when the episode sucks, but it's what we can do).

all this freaking out is making me stop enjoying the show, and the fandom. it's not giving anyone any joy. you guys have to calm down and i'm not being dismissive of how much a tv show can bring anxiety, but the only thing you can do is trust the process.

bughead has been a solid thing for 4 seasons. it's their first major problem. varchie has been not that solid but very, very present for 4 seasons. b*rchie has been whatever it has been for 4 seasons. jabitha is a new ship, but it's around now... but hasn't even really happened yet. like, all these characters have their stories to tell among them, and if we don't enjoy the road they take, we can only try to detach ourselves.

okay, i guess, that's it. i'm not sure if i make any sense, but i'm so exhausted of people not trusting what's being shown to them and only thinking about zalben, bdaily takes, evan, ras, yadayada, who the rvd writers liked on twitter, like... c'mon.

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kuroopaisen · 4 years

Text

little changes | i (miya atsumu)

➵ miya atsumu is the bane of your existence. but, that means different things at different times of your life.

PART TWO

wc: 6.9k (i know)

warnings: f!reader, cursing (too much tbh)

a/n: hi i couldn’t get this out of head so here you go,,, there’ll be a second part tomorrow

The first time you'd met, he'd pushed you into a puddle.

"Slow down!" You yelled, chest heaving as you tried to catch up to the two boys ahead of you. Even at seven years old, their legs were significantly longer than yours.

The twins scrambled to a stop, looking over their shoulders at you.

"Hurry up!" Atsumu yapped. "If you can't keep up, we're gonna leave you behind."

"That's unfair!" You pouted, stumbling to a stop in front of them. "You can't just leave me out!"

Atsumu stared at you for a moment.

One clean shove, and you were on your butt, muck and water splashing up around you.

"What'd you do that for?" You yapped, looking up at the boy with a glare strong enough to kill a god.

"You were bein' annoyin'."

"Hey!"

"That's not cool, 'Tsumu," Osamu sighed, holding out a hand to you.

Atsumu shrugged, letting out a long, exaggerated yawn.

That was the day you decided that Miya Atsumu was your arch-nemesis.

Not much had changed since that day. Miya Atsumu was, to put it lightly, the bane of your existence.

Middle school brought him no maturity. If anything, he got worse. He treated you like a nuisance, your friendship with Osamu be damned. But unfortunately, the two of them were rarely apart. And apparently being around you was better than being bored.

"You can't spike a ball for shit," he mumbled, shaking his head at you.

"Oi, language!"

"Shuddup," he rolled his eyes, turning his back to you. "You're so borin'."

He always called you that. Boring.

You glared at him, clenching your fists. You were just trying to play along with them. Sure, your volleyball skills left something to be desired. But Osamu didn't mind. And you wanted to play with your friend, his shitstain of a brother be damned.

"Yeah, well–" You sucked in your breath, trying to think of something very cruel – but not profane, because you're only eleven and swearing is one of the worst things you could do – to say to him. "You're a bastard!"

He looked over his shoulder at you, one eyebrow raised. Did his silence spell your victory?

"Pig."

Nope.

That was just the first of many monikers Miya Atsumu gave to you. He had so many, in fact, that it seemed he was allergic to calling you by your name. Pig seemed to be a particular favourite.

But, you always prided yourself on being tough. It took more than a few paltry words to do some real damage to you. And you were determined to not let Atsumu get the upper hand.

And yet, some days he did. They were rare, but they stung like nothing else. It was the days he got possessive. The days he told you to piss off, that he wanted to hang out with Osamu and he didn't want you there to ruin it.

You told yourself that it didn't matter. That you couldn't care less what he thought of you. But it wasn't enough to shift that awful little feeling that came with being told you were unwanted.

"Don't listen to him," Osamu sighed, hand clumsily patting your back. "He's just… like that. He sucks."

You sniffed, wiping your nose with the back of your hand. "Yeah."

You were just mad at yourself for crying. Thankfully, Atsumu had stalked off before you'd crumpled. But still. You'd let him get to you. You were better than that, right? Better than him.

"I still like you," Osamu swallowed, fumbling with the right words to say in a situation like this. "I'll beat him up for you, if you want."

You shook your head, a little too vigorously. "Nah, I don't want you to get into a fight with your brother because of me."

That's what it came down to, really. The feeling that you were in the way of something important. Of something that mattered more than you. The spiteful look Atsumu would shoot you whenever Osamu spent time with you instead of him hurt most.

Osamu shook his head. "Nah, it's fine. I really want an excuse to deck him in the face sometimes."

You giggled at that. It was the first time you'd smiled all day. "Thanks, 'Samu."

--------

With each year that passed, Miya Atsumu seemed to get worse. And with each year that passed, you were baffled.

How could someone have such a garbage personality? And worse yet, why was he blessed with such immense talent? You weren't an idiot, and you weren't the sort to deny credit when it was due. The twins were good. You knew jack-shit about volleyball – you'd sworn off it ever since Atsumu had been such a bastard about it – but you knew enough to know they were impressive.

They were just first years, but they were already on the starting line-up of the volleyball team. And you were quite proud of Osamu for that. It was nice to see other people recognising his talents. He'd been humble enough about it, too. Atsumu was another matter, but you'd developed something of a talent for tuning him out. So long as he wasn't insulting you directly, you could ignore him quite well. Life was much better for it.

The only bad thing about Osamu joining the volleyball team was the fact that he now hung out with them. Which wasn't a problem, per say; you were welcome to join, and they were all cordial enough. No, the issue was that sometimes spoke about girls. And nothing was more infuriating than hearing teenage boys advise one another on how to impress girls.

"You're saying I should just… ignore her?" One of the second years frowned at one of the older boys.

"Yeah," the third year nodded. "If you ignore her, she'll get all anxious about it, and she'll keep thinkin' about you."

"Huh," the second year nodded, blinking slowly. "Isn't that kind of… I dunno… mean?"

"Very," you mumbled.

"Huh?"

"If you do that, you'll seem like an asshole. Girls don't like guys like that," you sighed, head rested on Osamu's knee as you looked up at the sky.

Hanging out with the volleyball team wasn't high on your list of favourite activities. But, you had nothing better to do.

"I thought girls liked 'bad boys'," one of the third years laughed.

"I don't wanna make any generalisations," you shrugged. "But it's better if you're friends first. So you've gotta be nice to her."

You had absolutely no experience to speak of. But it seemed like the right thing to say.

"You're only saying that because you've got a thing for Osamu."

You hadn't planned on a murder today. But Suna had just changed your plans.

"Do not," you mumbled, shutting your eyes. Don't bite back, you thought to yourself. If you bite back, they'll just tease you more.

You'd actually thought about it, once. You were sixteen, after all, and ready to yearn. But, as hard as you'd tried to convince yourself that you felt something more for Osamu had fallen flat. The thought of kissing him made you laugh, when it should've made you blush. You hadn't mentioned that to him, though. Having a girl laugh at the thought of intimacy with you was probably at least a little humiliating, regardless of who she was.

"You're lying on him as we speak," one of the team snickered.

"Because I'm tired." You opened one eye to take a glance at the team. You took a moment to visualise punching them all in the face, one by one. It was almost rhapsodic. "You all suck."

"You're not even good enough for 'Samu, anyway."

Oh. Oh.

You bolted upright, glare immediately honing in on him. "Excuse me?"

Atsumu raised an eyebrow at you. "So you think you're good enough for him?"

You opened your mouth to reply. Fuck, you didn't have anything snappy to say. Was strangling him out of the question? Oh God, you could feel your face growing redder by the second. You needed to do something–

"Oi, don't use me as an excuse to make fun of her," Osamu sighed. "You don't really think that highly of me."

"That's cold, 'Samu," Atsumu grimaced. "You really think I'd be okay with you datin' this cow?"

"What did you just call me?"

"Do you like it more when I call you a pig?"

"What on earth gave you that idea, you bastard?"

Osamu rolled his eyes as the tirade began. Not a day went by without something like this happening. Atsumu said something contrarian, and you exploded like a little firecracker. You weren't the sort to start fights, usually. But there was something about Atsumu that always managed to get under your skin.

He'd hoped that finally entering high school would've taught Atsumu how to behave. He should've known to be wiser than to indulge himself in some wishful thinking.

"Does he always provoke her?" Aran asked, frowning.

Osamu nodded. "Uh huh. He gets a kick out of it."

"Hmm," Aran nodded, "knowing everything I do about Atsumu, that makes perfect sense."

"I keep tellin' her not to respond. It just eggs him on."

"Well, I guess it's kinda hard not to," Aran shrugged.

Osamu sighed. "Y'know, sometimes I just wish they'd get along."

Aran laughed, shaking his head. "Sorry man, can't see that happening any time soon."

--------

Being a teenager fucking sucked.

Getting dumped by an admittedly shitty boyfriend might've been some kind of rite of passage, but that didn't make it hurt any less. You'd tried to count your blessings, small as they may be. At least he hadn't dumped you over text, right?

Maybe it would've been better if he had dumped you over text. That would've given you a few hours at least to pull yourself together. Instead, he'd pulled you aside just before class had started, telling you that he was done with you. He hadn't even given you the chance to speak.

And then you'd had to walk into class and pretend everything was okay. A whole school day was far too long to try and pretend you had it together.

Behind the gym was the only place you'd managed to find the silence in which to mourn. You would've gone and cried in the bathroom if you could, but there was always someone in there. You didn't want to make a scene. And surely, nobody would come behind the gym.

"Oi."

Oh, fuck.

"What do you want?" You mumbled, lacking the courage to look at him.

"I was just tryin' to clear my head before practice," he said. "What're you doin' out here?”

"None of your business," you sniffed, your shoulders hunched and your fists scrunching the fabric of your skirt.

He sat down.

No. No, no, no.

"So," he cleared his throat, not quite looking at you. "I heard about… your ex."

"Great," you sniffed, rubbing your nose with the back of your hand. It'd already reached Atsumu? How much did he know?

"Are you… alright?" His voice was quiet, unsure.

"What do you think?" You hissed, drawing your knees up to your chest.

"Sorry," he mumbled, rubbing the back of his neck. "I just, uh… you've seemed kinda off today."

You shot him a look.

"Yeah, yeah, I know, I just…" He sighed, hanging his head.

You pressed your lips together, trying to sift through the jumble of thoughts in your mind. It wasn't that you'd expected your relationship with that asshole to last. Far from it. You just hadn't expected it to go… like this. Not after he'd taken so much from you.

"It's just that–" The words escaped from you with a hitched breath. "It's just that… I gave him a lot, you know?" You took a deep breath. You weren't about to admit everything to fucking Atsumu of all people. But you just wanted to talk. To put the pain into words. "And he didn't have the decency to… to treat me with respect. He… He…"

"Did he hurt you?" Atsumu's tone was sharp; sharper than you'd ever heard it. He still wasn't looking directly at you. If anything, that was a small comfort.

"Not physically or anything," you shook your head, relaxing your fists. "It's just that he… he treated me like shit. And… and I liked him more than I should've, I know that, but…"

You made a valiant effort at swallowing the lump in your throat. "It just fucking sucks, you know?"

You don't know why you're telling him all this. You'd already said more than you'd wanted to. But damn, did it feel good to get it off your chest.

Did you seem a bit pathetic? Fuck it. Atsumu already thought poorly of you. Letting him see you like this wouldn't be a massive hit to your pride.

And, to his credit, he's listening. You think.

"I think–" You sniffed, taking a deep breath. This was the worst part of all. "I think he's been hooking up with Eiko. Or, at least, he's been trying to."

"What, really?" Oh, he'd looked pissed. You'd never seen this amount vitriol in his face before. Not even when he was arguing with you.

"Yeah." You nodded weakly. You knew it probably wasn't Eiko's fault. And even if she had 'seduced' him, he'd still chosen to dump you over it. You just didn't have the energy to direct your anger at anyone but him.

"Fuckin' piece of shit," he grumbled. You could see him clenching his fists. You'd never thought he'd get this angry on your behalf. "I'm gonna kill him."

"Don't." You nearly reached over to grab his arm. But, you didn't. "Please, I just… I just want this to pass, okay? I don't want to create a mess."

Atsumu stared at you for one long moment. You knew he was weighing up whether or not he should listen to you. Then, he sighed. "Fine."

"Thank you," you mumbled, fiddling with the hem of your shirt. You didn't know what to say, now.

"Well," he cleared his throat, finally meeting your gaze, "if he tries anythin' with you, lemme know, okay?"

You blinked, your own brow just as furrowed as his.

"He's a pig," he grunted, "and… and you deserve better than that, 'kay?"

You stared at him. Had those words really just come from his mouth? "I thought I was the pig."

Atsumu said nothing. He doesn't know what to say. You'd never really interacted like this before. Without the barbs.

He wanted to say that, even though he makes fun of you all the time, you matter. Frankly, he doesn't really know what he'd do if you weren't there for him to pick on. He's used to you being around, you know? That bred at least a little fondness. And the thought that someone had genuinely, actually hurt you pissed him off.

But he doesn't say any of that. Because he doesn't know how to. Hell, he doesn't even know what that means.

"I, uh," he cleared his throat, standing to his feet. "I've gotta get back to practice."

He wants to tell you to text him if you need anything. But, he doesn't think that'll be very comforting, coming from him. So, he walked away.

"Hey, uh, Miya?"

He stopped in his tracks, just as surprised as you were. You never called him by his name.

"Could you, uh… could you keep this between us?" You asked, your throat alarmingly dry. "I'd rather 'Samu didn't know about this. I'm worried that… that he might do something stupid."

Atsumu looked over his shoulder at you. It's a small moment, a quiet one.

He just shrugs. "'Kay."

The next time you're watching them play, you're not just cheering for Osamu.

--------

It's over. Finally.

And you couldn't be more relieved.

Of course, you were going to miss your friends. And of course, all the changes that were about to come your way were fucking terrifying.

But high school sucked. And being a teenager sucked. You couldn't wait to move on from all of that. To make a real person of yourself. And you were going to Tokyo. Tokyo. You'd always lived in Hyogo; the thought of living somewhere so vastly different was downright exhilarating.

But before all that, you had to survive your goodbyes. You'd made it through the graduation ceremony well enough; in truth, you'd zoned out a little.

But now you were all outside, and it was finally time to say goodbye for good. And quite frankly, you hadn't expected to be so emotional. Honestly, you were just proud of yourself for keeping it together. Nobody else was crying – yet – and you'd be damned if you were the first person to lose composure.

You'd managed to say goodbye to most of your friends with a smile, and you'd even bid farewell to your beloved literature teacher without getting too miserable. Surely, there wouldn't be too many people left to see.

A flash of grey and yellow at your right.

Oh no. You had to speak to Osamu. That'd do it.

"Oi!" You called out, hurdling towards him.

Osamu turned around, raising a hand at you. Atsumu glanced in your direction, but he made no effort to greet you. Asshole.

"C'mere," Osamu smiled, opening his arms up.

You threw yourself into them, wrapping your arms around his neck as you supported yourself on your tip-toes. He smiled, chuckling in your ear. Good God, you were going to miss him.

"We did it," you smiled, squeezing him tight.

"Somehow." It was subtle, but you could feel the joy in his voice.

"Good job on getting into TSUJI," you beamed, dropping down as he released you from his grasp.

"Thanks," he smiled, reaching a hand up and ruffling your hair. "University of Tokyo’s nothin' to sniff at, you know."

You blushed, despite yourself. "Yeah, well…"

"Stop bein’ so humble," he said, punching you gently in the shoulder. "Make me proud, you hear?"

"You too."

And that's enough. That's all you need to say. He wasn't big on words, and that was okay. It had always been okay. You knew that you guys would stay friends. Even if everyone else fell away, if you drifted from all these people you held close… you knew you'd have 'Samu.

You heard a voice calling you. You straightened your shoulders, looking up at Osamu resolutely. "I'll see you this weekend, yeah?"

"Sure," he shrugged, nodding at you.

You smiled back, feeling that persistent sting at the corners of your eyes. Your eyes flicked over to Atsumu for just a moment. He'd turned away from you once you'd thrown your arms around Osamu, opting instead to speak to some of the first years. You wondered, for one short moment, if you should try and talk to him.

Nah.

You swallowed, turning around to walk towards whoever had called your name. If you spent any more time standing still, you might not be able to hold back the tears.

You felt a tug on your sleeve, pulling you downwards.

"Oi."

You'd know that voice anywhere. "You're so rude." You shot him a glare, straightening yourself out.

Things had mellowed out a little since that day behind the gym. You wouldn't go so far as to say you were friends; he was still abrasive, and you were still struck by the urge to punch him in the face whenever he came into your field of vision.

But his words had been a little gentler. Insults abounded, but he seemed a bit more mindful. Like he was checking your mood before pushing your buttons.

Or maybe you were just imagining it. Maybe you just wanted that weird little moment between the two of you to mean something.

"What do you want, Miya?" You sighed, after a long silence.

He'd just been standing there, completely silent. He hadn't even bit back. His lips were pursed as he stared at nothing in particular. What an earth is he thinking about? You wondered.

Then, finally, he looked at you. "Wanna live together?"

You froze. Why was he so… like this? "Excuse me?"

He shrugged, hands in his pockets and an obnoxiously bored look on his face. "That's easier than findin' a roommate, right? We already know each other, and we'll both be in Tokyo."

No congratulations. No words of kindness. Nothing. Just straight to business. You weren't sure if that or the offer he'd just made was more baffling.

You bit your lip. Could there be anything worse than living with this fool? Maybe you could end up with a shitty roommate – but he'd also be a shitty roommate. How much worse could a total stranger be?

"Hey. Dickhead."

You jumped, looking up to meet his eyes. "Oh, uh… Let me think about it."

"'Kay."

And then, he was gone.

'Kay? 'Kay? That's all he'd had to say to you? After asking you to live with him? How'd he even come up with that idea? Had Osamu told him to do it? Oh, maybe it was his parents. They were quite fond of you, after all. Perhaps they thought you could keep their son in line or something.

But that wasn't your responsibility! You didn't want it to be your responsibility!

You shook your head. No, you weren't going to let this dominate your thoughts. You would worry about Atsumu later. For now, you just had to focus on getting through the rest of today.

--------

Your reasons for living with Miya Atsumu were simple.

One: you'd avoid each other. Surely, even if you were in the same apartment, you'd give each other a wide enough berth to ensure some sense of privacy.

Two: you could live like an absolute pig and it wouldn't matter. Who cared if you didn't do your dishes that evening? It only affected him. And fuck him.

Three: you'd heard one too many horror stories about friendships being torn to pieces because of shit like this. You didn't want to risk that.

Four: you didn't want to live with a stranger.

Simple as that.

And those were the four reasons you'd told Osamu, in a paltry attempt to justify yourself. He'd been sceptical, of course – and he'd said, without an ounce of goodwill, "you don't know just how bad he is to live with" – but he hadn't tried to stop you.

But one semester was already over and done with. And things were fine.

Honestly, you were still surprised that he'd even asked this of you. But, his reasons were his own, and frankly, you didn't care what they were.

Yes, he lived like a pig. And God, you'd heard him in bed one too many times because apparently he doesn't know how to be quiet.

"It's not my fault you're not gettin' any," he'd say. You always wanted to bite back and say that you were getting more than enough, thank you very much. You were just polite enough to be quiet. But, you always decided – quite wisely – that it wasn't an argument worth getting into.

But, there's something about the freedom of simply not caring if your roommate would get mad at you for some stupid mistake that made it all worth it. You were allowed to fuck up, to make all those silly mistakes every did in that transitory stage from high school to adulthood. Nothing you could do would ruin an important friendship.

You got to learn how to be a decent person without the consequences.

"Would ya mind if I had some friends over?"

Believe it or not, but this was a big step for him. A few weeks ago, and he would've just brought them over, your feelings be damned.

"When?"

"Thursday evenin'."

"What for?"

"Just catchin' up," he shrugged.

"Is this you asking me if I'm okay with it, or is it you asking me to get out of the house?" You raised an eyebrow at him, stirring your tea.

He flashed you a grin.

You rolled your eyes. "Really?"

"Come on," he propped his chin up on his fist, beaming at you from across the kitchen counter. "Surely, you don't wanna be around when there's a buncha guys in the apartment. Do you?"

"So you're going to bring them over regardless of what I say?"

Nevermind. This wasn't a step for him at all.

"Essentially," he shrugged.

You groaned, lolling your head back.

"Can't you just go to the library or somethin'?" He pouted.

"I don't have any assignments to work on," you frowned. "It's literally only week two."

"Aren't you always tellin' me it's better to get ahead early?" He raised an eyebrow at him.

You narrowed your eyes at him, biting the inside of your cheek. "Week two's overkill."

"Well, just… do your weekly readings or somethin'."

"I'd rather do them from the comfort of my own bed."

Atsumu groaned, running a hand through his hair. "Look, I already told 'em they could come over."

Oh, you were so ready to throttle him.

"Can't you just… make yourself busy?" He shrugged. "I don't want you to be uncomfortable or anythin'."

"You should've thought about that before inviting them over," you growled. "Shit, what are you planning on getting up to, anyway?"

He shrugged. "It'll just stress you out."

"Miya, what the fuck–"

"One of the guys thinks you're hot."

You blinked. He really knew how to be blunt, didn't he?

"And?"

"I can't promise he won't try'n hit on you."

"Yeah, and?"

Atsumu shrugged. "I dunno. I just… thought you might be a bit uncomfortable with that."

"How does he even know what I look like?"

"I showed 'em a photo."

Oh God. Of course he did.

"Why on earth would you do that?"

"I mentioned that my roommate's a chick. They wanted to see."

"Miya," you sighed, gripping your own hair. "What – and I cannot stress this enough – the fuck?"

"It didn't seem like a big deal at the time," he tilted his head at you, smiling. "I mean, I'm just as surprised at you that someone finds you attractive–"

"Shut up."

"– but I just thought you should know. Clear things up before they get too awkward, you know?"

No, you didn't.

But, you didn't really want to have this conversation anymore.

"Fine," you sighed, turning to pour the rest of your tea down the sink. For some reason, you didn't really want it anymore. "I'll find something to do."

Shouldn't be too hard. Maybe a bar or a pub would have a student's night. Maybe one of your friends would be free. There was always something to do in the city.

"I owe you one," Atsumu grinned. You had half a mind to knock his teeth out then and there.

"You really do," you sighed, rinsing your cup out.

"Already got something in mind."

"Sounds like there's a catch," you mumbled, looking over your shoulder at him.

"No catch," he held his hands up, giving you what you assumed was his best smile.

"Has anyone ever told you you've got an untrustworthy face, Miya?"

"All the time," he grinned. "Nah, but really. No catch."

You titled your head at him, waiting for a proposal of some kind.

"I'll buy you pizza."

You scoffed. "Really? That's your consolation?"

"I'll get you the expensive shit," he shrugged. "Friday night. Promise."

"Can you even afford anything that's not from the cheapskate menu?"

"Can you?"

You shrugged at that one.

"Nah, I promise, it'll be good," he sighed. "I'll make it worth it, 'kay?"

--------

Friday nights were for Atsumu.

You weren't quite sure how it started. Something to do with him being exhausted from volleyball practice. Something to do with you being exhausted from university. Something else about how neither of you had any energy left to go out and socialise.

Whatever it was, you'd settled into a comfortable rhythm. Friday night, pizza, and a shitty movie.

These days, you actually liked having him around. Not that you were going to admit to it, though. No, you'd rather die than do anything like that.

You weren't quite sure why you'd suddenly adjusted to him. Was it because you'd known him for so long? Even if he was an absolute nuisance, he was familiar. Someone you could be a goblin around, without having to worry about him wanting to end your friendship over it. No, you'd been involved with each other far too long for that.

And honestly, it was kind of nice to have someone to relax around. While you'd managed to find some people you clicked with at university… making friends was hard. There was no-one you could be an absolute pig with yet.

So, Atsumu would do for now.

You'd just finished watching Neil Breen's Fateful Findings. It had been surprisingly easy to find a copy with Japanese subtitles; that being said, you didn't feel it had given you any clarity as to what was actually going on. Atsumu had loved it, though. He'd already tried throwing some of the quotes back at you. That was sure to make him harder to live with for at least the next week or two.

"Wanna play Smash?" He was sprawled out on the couch, looking at you with a painfully cocky expression.

"Absolutely not."

"Worried I'll beat your ass again?" Did he have to smirk after every second thing he said?

You glared at him. "Wanna say that to my face?"

He grinned, turning to face you head on. "Worried I'll beat your ass again?"

"I was having an off day," you mumbled.

"Wanna prove that, or…"

You bit the inside of your cheek. If you did play, there were two possible outcomes. The first was that you won. If you won, it'd shut him up, and you could go on with your pride more or less intact. The second was that you lost. And you weren't quite sure if you could handle his ego.

"I'll prove it to you right now," you snapped. "On this couch, with my fists."

He blinked at you.

"You're going down for good, Miya."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah," you nodded. "I'm gonna make you squirm like the worm you are."

He laughed. A real, genuine laugh. The sort that relieved all tension from his body, erasing any hint of his usual insufferable expression.

He was actually kind of handsome.

You'd always known he had a nice body – you weren't blind, you were just too proud to admit it. And it'd gotten even nicer since graduation. Practice paid off, it seemed.

And there was something appealing about his relaxed air. About how he didn't seem to take life too seriously. It almost made him enjoyable to be around.

Maybe that's why so many girls were interested in him.

Wait, no. They only liked him because they hadn't spoken to him yet.

Oh, right. Girls.

Something shifted in your chest. Something you had never noticed before. Something so quiet, so understated that you hadn't even realised it had made its way in there.

Oh God, you thought, what the fuck is happening to me?

Whatever it was, you didn't like it.

Miya Atsumu was hot. That, unfortunately, was a fact you were now uncomfortably aware of.

"Oi." A hand was being waved in front of your face. You jumped. "Pay attention, you pig."

Oh, nope. There he was. There's the Atsumu you were used to.

"You're a fucking bastard," you mumbled, shrinking into yourself.

You're weren't quite sure what you were saying. You'd just flicked onto autopilot. But you knew that your words were comfortable, familiar. Little insults that a child would throw around. Anything to stave off whatever that weird stirring in your stomach was.

--------

In many ways, realising Miya Atsumu was actually kind of hot ruined your life.

Were you being over-dramatic? Probably. But had things changed? Definitely. To a large extent, it was on you; glances stolen when he wasn't looking, your mind wandering to places it really shouldn't.

But he'd been acting up, too. Standing far too close to you when you were in the kitchen – close enough that you could feel his chest against your back, reaching over your head to grab a cup while damn-near draping his body over you, walking around without a shirt on in the common area…

One time, when you'd dressed up all nice for a friend's birthday, he'd brazenly checked you out. He hadn't said anything – he'd just stared. When you asked him what was wrong, he just shrugged and told you to have fun. And, of course, he'd smirked at you. You'd been ready and willing to kill him.

Whenever you were on the couch, he always seemed to reach over you and take the remote himself instead of simply asking you to hand it to him. And sure, that wasn't all too weird – but he tended to get really close, and catch your eye for just a moment with that little smirk on his lips. Each and every time, you felt like you were going to explode.

You'd taken to sticking pillows between you on the couch, because you wouldn't be surprised if he decided to lay his head on your lap or some shit on a whim.

Maybe he was messing with you, but this sort of behaviour wasn't totally un-Atsumu. You'd seen him act like this with people before. It's just that you two had never really been close enough to warrant it. Was it just a symptom of the fact that you guys were kind of friends now? Was he just treating you like everyone else?

But some part of you was even angrier at that. You didn't want to be treated like everyone else.

God, you felt stupid for even feeling like that. Especially when you'd had an awkward morning chat with a few of his bedfellows – where each and every time, you couldn't help but marvel at the fact that he was punching so far above his weight. How on earth were people this beautiful paying attention to him?

That was starting to make more and more sense recently.

You tried not to think about it.

But that was getting harder and harder to you. You'd been kind of lonely. Some quiet part of you wanted a serious relationship; someone to come home to of an evening, to relax and unwind with. You'd even been actively looking. Not that you were about to admit that to anyone.

But men are shit. Especially ones in their early twenties.

But as resolutely as you believed that, there you were, preparing for yet another date. You'd have a particularly messy string of disasters recently; men who did little more than stare at your tits, men who had nothing interesting to say, men who thought that being an asshole was a personality…

Tonight, you hoped, would be different. Sure, you'd met this guy in an econ elective – you'd needed something easy to bring your GPA up – and that certainly wasn't a point in his favour. But, he'd taken in interest in you, despite the fact you'd never really spoken before. A few months ago, you might've turned him down. But surely he'd be better than the drivel Tinder unfailingly turned out.

Only problem was that he wanted to go somewhere chic. Somewhere fancy. Somewhere that was, quite frankly, out of your comfort zone.

"Another date?" Atsumu scoffed, leaning on the doorframe to the bathroom.

"What's it to you?" You grumbled, leant in close to the bathroom mirror. You couldn't get your makeup to look how you wanted it to; everything just seemed a little wonky, a little uneven. And your foundation hadn't settled nicely into your face. It just sat there, a tacky second skin you just wanted to slough off.

"Nothin'," Atsumu shrugged. "You've just never gone out on a Friday before."

Oh. That's right.

You shrugged, biting your cheek. "It's the only day he could get a reservation." In truth, you hadn't even thought about it.

"Same guy as before?"

You shook your head. You couldn't actually remember the last guy you'd told Atsumu about. The amount of bad dates you'd been on was getting embarrassing. "Nah. This one's a classy bastard."

He snorted. "You're kiddin', right?"

You shook your head. "I'm going to have to let him pay for the date because I genuinely don't think I can afford it."

"Yikes," he chuckled. "You know, I never really took you for a gold digger."

You had half a mind to throw your mascara at him. "Shut up."

"If you keep faffin', you'll be late."

Shit, He was right. You checked your phone. 5:25. You had five minutes to leave. You picked it up and made your way to the door, ready to squeeze past Atsumu. You turned, dashing back to the mirror and poking at your hair.

"Stop worryin'," he chuckled, waving a hand at you as he began to walk away. "You look nice."

Those words stuck with you all the way to the restaurant. They were so simple, so innocuous, but… They were touching, coming from him.

And when your date was talking to you about something you simply didn't find interesting, you couldn't get that look on Atsumu's face out of your head.

--------

The date was a veritable disaster. Possibly the worst you'd had in a while.

First of all, the guy was a total asshole. And not just the Atsumu kind – no, this one was rich. He'd had his entire life handed to him on a silver platter, and it showed. You could tolerate it, at first. But when he'd literally said, "I don't think the poor should be allowed to vote," you knew you couldn't stick around.

Second of all, you couldn't stop thinking of Atsumu and his damn smirk.

You'd gotten up without even giving your date an explanation. You'd stormed out of the restaurant in a rage, resolute on walking all the way home.

Why did it always turn out this way? The guys were either assholes, or far too self-centred for a proper relationship. If they were neither of those things, there was just no chemistry between the two of you.

God, were you the problem? Were good people just not attracted to you?

What were you supposed to do?

To top it all off, it began to rain when you were just halfway home.

As you slammed the door, you looked as awful as you felt.

Atsumu flinched, sprawled out in front of the television. He sat up a little straighter, looking at you from over the back of the couch.

"Yikes!" He scoffed. "You look like shit!"

Your breath caught in your throat. No. No, you weren't going to take this from him right now. Not tonight.

"Y'know, you wouldn't've gotten rained off if you'd just stayed in," he chuckled, propelling himself off the couch and ambling his way over to you. "What a waste…"

He came to a stop in front of you, hands stuffed in the pockets of his sweatpants. He had that look on his face; that insufferable smirk he whipped out whenever he'd beaten you in something menial. That smirk that, in any other circumstance, would've made you want to punch him. But tonight, it just made you want to cry.

"You haven't said anythin'," he frowned, tilting his head at you. "You okay?"

You wanted to lie. You wanted to tell him that it was fine, that the mascara dappling your cheeks was just the result of the rain.

But you couldn't. You couldn't get the words out of your mouth.

You took a deep breath.

You stopped breathing. His arms were around you, pulling you into his chest. It was rough, the embrace of someone who wasn't used to tenderness. There's this strange stiffness to it, an admission that he doesn't really know what he's doing. But as he rests his head on your chin, you couldn't be more grateful for his efforts. Your hands found their way to his chest, balled up and tense.

"Hey," he mumbled, "hey. It's going to be okay."

You looked up at him, your throat sore from holding back a sob and eyes stinging from unshed tears.

Maybe it's because you're emotional. Or because you're tired. Or maybe it's because you're lonely, and he said a few nice things to you today.

You kissed him.

It's hot, open-mouthed as your fists grasped his shirt, pulling him down to meet you.

Your head is swimming; what the fuck is happening?

His arms tensed around you, his lips moving to meet yours.

This is what you want. This is what you've wanted for a while now. You hadn't wanted to go on all those shitty dates. You hadn't wanted to waste your time with men you didn't care about. What you'd wanted was–

He froze.

So did you.

His hands are holding your forearms firmly as he stepped back, an inscrutable expression on his face.

"No, baby." He shook his head. "Not like this."

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

You flew down the hall, slamming your bedroom door.

You sank to the floor, arms finding their way around your knees. You didn't want to cry. You didn't want to dignify this evening with that. You weren't going to pity your own shitty mistakes.

Fuck the date. That wasn't even the worst part of the night.

You'd just kissed Miya fucking Atsumu. Things were finally going okay between the two of you. He'd been treating you like a human being.

And now you'd ruined it.

#haikyuu x reader #atsumu x reader #miya atsumu x reader #haikyuu imagines #atsumu scenarios #atsumu imagines #haikyuuwritersnet #IDK WHAT TAGS ARE #also i can't believe i'm putting in this much effort for atsumu #mayhaps i enjoy him a little #ANYWAY here's part one of my labour of love #2nd part's up tomorrow!

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quirklessidiot · 4 years

Text

Title: coward :: warm saki for the cold nights Pairing: Y/N x Miya Atsumu Genre: angst, romance, and very slow burn [ex to lovers au] Warnings: Cursing, alchohol, mentions of unprotected sex, unplanned pregnancy, and mentions of abortion

Synopsis: Atsumu deals with heartbreak again and while doing so, receives an unexpected call that may just help bridge you two again.

notes:

someone said that my character for atsumu was differently written from most fanfiction. tbh the only fuckboy i see in haikyuu is Yuuji HASHHSSHAHA have u seen the piercing and how agressive he is. that def screams fuck boi

also i will be closing the taglist already after this chapter :/ if you guys don’t want to be tagged in the side stories, just message me hehe its not a problem (also i will be updating the side stories every FRIDAY’S) the drabble requests will be open for ten drabbles after the side stories hehe ily all so much. stay safe and i hope you enjoy this chapter!

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Atsumu watches you walk out of his life again for the second time.

He doesn’t know what to do or why he’s here on his bed, playing with the silver ring band that he was supposed to give you six years ago after he’d been accepted in the jackals. As much as he was heartbroken by the fact that you didn’t want to get married then, he still wanted to give you a simple ring band as a promise that marriage was never the only way to get him to stick around you.

He couldn’t throw it away even after all these years.

Now that he looks at it, he’s reminded of that time you left him. The first time.

He really thought it would hurt less this time around. It was the second time after all but it still stings especially now since it was right at his face. He lets out a bitter chuckle, ‘selfish, huh?’ he thought.

Those words were odd coming from you.

In the two year span of your relationship, you were never the selfish one. In fact, he came to the late realization that he was the selfish one between you two in the relationship. Atsumu always thought physical and loud declarations of affection were the key to a healthy relationship, mundane things like sleeping next to each other or being there everyday (hence why long distance relationships were a no go for him) but you, you took it up the notch.

It may have been your first relationship but you were better than any girl he had dated. He realized then that maybe that's why you broke up with him, because you probably thought that he didn’t care to know more about you (when in actuality he was just too scared to ask because he might lose you if he did)

The phone starts to ring and as much as he wants to ignore it again, something tells him that he should answer this unknown contact.

“...Yo, this is Daiki.”

He blinks as he hears the deep voice of the basketball player, wasn’t this supposed to be his rival? How the hell did he even get his number?

“I heard Y/N pushed you away again like before, want to grab that drink?”

Atsumu doesn’t know why he agrees right after.

They ended up at a private japanese bar, apparently they had the best saki in the whole of japan and Daiki was willing to treat him despite the high price of alcohol because of what happened between you two, “You look like shit, man.” he points out as soon as he arrived, “No offense. Then again, that’s what I looked like when Y/N first rejected me.”

Atsumu sits across him at the booth and ignores the man’s statement about his looks, “Do you still like Y/N that way? Even after she rejected you a lot?” he asks, suddenly.

“After I realized how much she liked those kid’s father. I sorta gave up.” He laughed as if it was nothing, “He was hard to match, Y/N was begging me not to go to him to punch him in the face, she was in tears that night.”

“He’s a lucky bastard.” Atsumu spat bitterly, pouring more sake on his cup, “I’m guessing you know this guy?”

“Of course I do.” Daiki began, “Only recently though, Y/N never told anyone who the dad was. I had to figure that shit out on my own.”

Atsumu stares at his drink for a moment and swirls it around, he wants to know but at the same time he doesn’t. What would he even do if he knew? Would he find him and punch the asshole in the face for doing that to you? He’s starting to get Daiki, whoever this guy was, he was impossibly hard to match.

“I want to be in her life.” Atsumu confessed, “I want to replace that bastard’s place.”

Daiki’s eyes crinkle in utter amusement, just how long was this cat and mouse game going to play? What would happen if he told this blonde guy? Would you talk to him after he told Atsumu why you left? Would Daiki even be able to handle you leaving him?

Daiki’s take a deep breath as he ponders on that thought. He was willing to risk it though. He sees the genuineness in this guy’s eyes. From a man to a man, he could sense it. God, if only he had been a bit more pushy towards you back then about the whole tell-your-boyfriend thing, maybe you’d have it a bit easier now.

“What’s stopping you?”

“Y/N.” The blonde shrugs, the mere mention of your name stinged like the alcohol he was drinking, “I can’t force her. I can’t repeat the same mistakes I made before. Relationships were never her strongest suit and I feel like I forced it on her.”

“You didn’t.” Daiki proclaims, the basketball player ponders for a moment in deep thought, “The thing about Y/N is that she’s careful with whom she wants to be intimate with. The reason why she probably said yes was because she saw something in you but in the end…” Daiki paused, he’s not sure what to say next, this was a sensitive issue after all, “In the end, her fear got the better of her…”

“Sometimes I wish I could take it all away.” The setter quietly confessed, recalling the fear in your eyes back then made him sick.

In the two-year relationship you had, it had always been about him. He really had the audacity to proudly proclaim that he loved you yet it seemed more like you had loved him more.

It showed when you’d quietly just hold his hand and draw small circles on it after a loss, how you’d listen to his stories without interruptions, how you’d help him out in classes that he had a hard time at, how you’d prepare a hot meal for him every night he stayed up later to train, and how you’d silently just let him snuggle on your chest after a long day. It was those little things, things he realized later on that you’d never do to other people but he was a special case.

It was always about you taking care of him and putting him first.

It wasn’t openly affectionate like the girls he had before or after you, you had your own little way.

It was always about wanting to get a physical reaction from you, he was too blinded to the fact that it was never your type of thing.

He was the taker in the relationship, you had always been the giver.

Daiki was silent once again as he observed his devastating figure, “You really love her, don’t you?”

“I do.” he chuckled, “People tend to call me a fuck up for that but they don’t get it. When Y/N shows a little side of her, you...you can’t stop loving her, ya know? God, when she smiled and laughed at me for the first time. I knew at that moment that I wanted to hear that beautiful sound for the rest of my life.”

It felt good to get that out of his chest for once, ‘samu would call him a sappy piece of shit if he had heard that but it was the raw truth. Every word he said, every feeling he tried to express, it was all so genuine and that’s what made everything so painful.

God, the saki was getting to him. He can’t believe he told Daiki out of all people about this.

“You said you wanted to know who the father of those kids was, right?”

Atsumu stops whatever he’s drinking and feels his ears perk up at the sound of that. Daiki looks dead serious as he downs the saki straight-up, the next few words sobers the blonde setter because it’s not what he expects.

“Y/N told me the father was her first boyfriend, a boy from tokyo university.”

Atsumu feels his heart thumping fast as he makes his way to your apartment in the dead of the night, the alcohol long gone but the words of Daiki still stinging and fresh, a father? Was that why you ran away?

Because you were pregnant with his kids?

He curses underneath his breath as he finally parks his car in front of your apartment, he’s still shaken by the sudden revelation and he feels like kicking himself, how he could’ve been so stupid? He should’ve known something was odd when you suddenly disappeared and broke up on the phone.

While he was enjoying his life as a pro, you were out there fending for the kids alone.

He shakes his head.

“...I can’t tell you why Y/N ran away, it’s better if you heard the story from her.” Daiki’s words echo in his head, “I know she placed a lot on your plate these past six years but she has her reasons, I’m not saying that you should forgive her immediately. I’m just asking you to listen.”

Atsumu gets out of his car and takes out his phone, calling the number he got from Daiki. You had never exchanged numbers even after all that had happened. Now that he noticed, you were keen on distancing yourself from him. Ever since the beginning, you were so adamant to push him out of your life in the same cold way like before.

How could he not have noticed?

He curses himself in his head, for all the times he had to be slow, why now?

“Hello?” Your voice is groggy, signaling that you were asleep, “May I know who's on the line?”

“I’m downstairs.” he blurted out, not knowing what to say, he knows you recognize his voice, “Can we talk Y/N?”

“Miya-san? What are you?- It’s almost twelve-”

“One last time, Y/N.” He pleads, voice soft as he says your name, “Please?”

You hang up soon after, he doesn’t care if he has to stake out here in his car for the whole night and wait for you to come down in the morning. Right now, all that matters is you.

Only you.

Thankfully, he doesn’t need to do that since he sees you going out of your apartment a few moments later in a large black coat with mismatched socks, if it weren’t for the gravity of the situation, he would’ve teased you for your unusual get-up.

“I thought I told you that I didn’t want to have anything to do with you anymore.” in contrast to your soft tone, your words are harsh and if it were the old him, he’d have back down but he knows something now.

He takes in a deep breath and lets out a drawling sigh as he removes his scarf, “It’s cold tonight.” He observes, ignoring the harsh words you said as he inches closer to you to wrap his scarf around your neck.

“You smell like alcohol.”

“Aomine-san and I went out for a drink.” He recounts, tying the scarf on your neck. He sucks in a deep breath before he says the following words, “You know Y/N, you never told me his name.”

“Excuse me?” You're confused by the sudden words as you try to remove the scarf but he stops you and grabs a hold of your hands instead, clasping his fingers on yours like the old times. He loved the warmth you radiated. It always felt nice.

“The name of that bastard who left you.” He stated. He’s so close to you to the point that you could smell the saki and perfume on him, hear his ragged breathing, and hear the thumping of his heart. You try to remove yourself from his grasp but you’re trapped in his stare and tight hold, “What’s his name, Y/N?”

“I told you, it’s none-”

“Just a name, Y/N.”

Silence ensued between you two and you nervously gulp down.

So it really was him.

This was now or never.

“Just for one moment, can you stop running away from me?” he begs, as he inched closer to hug you and place his head on your shoulder, “Just stop running, Y/N. You don’t have to tell me what happened and why you ran away back then, just let me love you now and be a father to those kids.”

It's silent for a moment and he feels fear engulf him again, his confidence slowly vanishing. Were you going to push him away again?

Yet he feels you starting to tremble on his hold and something wet on his shoulders, he suddenly stands up straight to find you crying on his shoulder, “You’re so fucking stupid, did you know that?” you suddenly cried, “I literally broke up with you on the fucking phone, ran away from you-”

“Yet you never forgot me and raised those kids very well on your own.” He hummed, cutting you off as he rested his head on top of yours, still hugging you tightly. Yes, this was right, the warmth that he wanted was right here, he was finally at ease.His anxiety was slowly dwindling, “God, I should’ve tried harder to not make you feel that way before.”

“I-It’s my fault.” You stammered, “I kept doubting you and kept running from you.”

“You must’ve been scared, sweetheart.” He murmured, cutting you off as he ignores you recounting your past ‘mistakes’ --- he wouldn’t call it mistakes though, they were the seeds of doubt that he planted on you, so he was technically at fault there, he should’ve tried harder to not make you feel that way. He should’ve been more observant ---- He buries himself on your scent and draws small circles on your back to soothe your shaking figure. You’d do this to him a lot before, it was his turn now to return all the comfort and support you gave him.

Atsumu slowly lets go and sees you’re a mess in front of him from the red rims under your eyes to the wet cheeks to your non-stop shaking figure.

‘...You always had trouble expressing yourself naturally to people after all.’

No, it seemed like you had turned it off towards other people except your kids. Atsumu noted how strong you were towards your kids, how you tried hard to build a home for them and be the most genuine mother you could be, it breaks his heart that he wasn’t there to help and support you.

He slowly brings his hands up and softly cups your cheeks to wipe the stray tears, “I know that I can’t take all your problems and baggage away for a night but I’ll be here, Y/N. I’ll be here even if you’re annoyed, I’ll be here even if you throw me out because of the confusion you have with your feelings. I’ll stay. Permanently, no take-backs.”

You shakily lift your hands to grab a hold of his rough hands and squeeze it to make sure this is all real, that this wasn’t a dream.

“You’re an idiot.” You sniffle, taking in his warmth and basking on it, “I really told you to be selfish, for once. Why can’t you do that?”

“That’s ironic coming from you.” he mused, “You were always the giver in our relationship in your own way, you raised our kids in the best way possible. I could think of a million ways that you were the giver in our relationship and I was more of the receiver.” Atsumu chuckles at the irony as he slowly runs his fingers through your hair. He feels better now that everything is out of the way, that he can finally hold you with no restrictions. The little family with you that was supposed to be a fleeting moment, was now slowly becoming a reality.

“In the end, all that matters is that I love you. It’s never changed for the past six years, Y/N. I doubt it’ll change in the long run.” he confessed, leaning in to give you a brief kiss on the temple. You feel yourself start to calm down as you rested on his chest and listen to his heart beat.

You missed that sound, the sound of home.

It takes a while for you to actually settle down and sit with your kids, Atsumu reminds you that you could take your time in the introductions, even volunteering that he could help you with it but you decided against it in the end. This was your responsibility. You still had to make up for the past six years of heartbreak you gave to the poor man and your kids.

Atsumu doesn’t shy away though, he comes by after his morning training during your lunch break to have lunch with you and even volunteers to pick up the kids after class before his nightly training.

Slow pace and baby steps as he’d like to call it.

“Jiji’s acting weird.” Yuuto frowns as he picks on his fish with his chopsticks, “He’s been hanging around us too much, kaasan.”

“Yeah!” Youta echoes, “Is he going to be like Daiki-ojisan? Is he going to be our ojisan?”

You place your chopsticks down and stare at the pair in front of you. It would be hard to explain to the pair about Atsumu and his relationship with them, you almost wanted to call the man himself to help you explain but you decided against it.

This was now or never.

“Can kaasan tell you something?” You softly ask, placing your chopsticks down, the steamed fish long forgotten.

“What is it, kaasan?” Youta asks innocently, tilting his head just a bit, “Did jiji do something again? Should me and yu do something about it?”

“No,” you shake your head, “It’s...It’s about your otosan…”

Silence enveloped the table, the boys never talked about their father in front of you because they noticed how sad you’d be by the mere mention of their father yet that didn’t stop them from asking around your close circle of friends like Atsumu and Daiki. Did you find out about their interest? Were they going to be scolded?

“I...I want to introduce him to you…” You slowly began, “he...he’s come home…”

Youta and Yuuto’s eyes widen immediately, “He? He has?” Yuuto suddenly exclaimed, standing up from his chair. You could detect the excitement in his eyes, “What does he look like, kaasan? Does he have the same hair as us? Does he look like us? Did- did he get all his dreams?”

“Is he a doctor, kaasan? Or does he play sports like Daiki-ojisan and jiji?” Youta adds, wondering out loud, “Weird. We’re not that famous yet, kaasan. Is he going to be proud of us?”

You feel your heart thump and your eyes water at the question as you swallow the lump on your throat, “He’s, he’s very proud of you.” you try to blink away the tears, “In fact, your otosan was very scared because you might hate him.”

“Is that why he wasn’t able to come home?” Yuuto asks quietly, he had always been smart for his age.

You were silent for a moment and you take in a very deep breath, when they were old enough you’d tell them all about what happened, in the meantime, you’d tell them a simple explanation, “No, it was kaasan’s fault...Your otosan wasn’t able to come home because of kaasan…”

“Will...will you tell us why, kaasan?” Youta questions, you could tell that he was scared to ask that question.

“Because kaasan was scared…” You paused, trying to find the right words to explain to them, “Kaasan had you when me and your otosan was still quite young so kaasan ran away…”

“Did o-otosan not want us then?” Yuuto quivers, his lifted spirits now down, you could tell that he was trying to hold it in. You immediately had to stand up and rush to their side to comfort them, “Of course not!” You exclaimed, taking their hands and bending to their level, “It’s just, kaasan had very bad things happening around her that she had to run away.”

“Are...are the bad things gone now then, kaasan?”

You turn to Youta whose eyes were soft and spirits down too, he seemed to have grasped the situation yet at the same time, he couldn’t get it. Maybe it was a big kids type of thing? Would he understand this all when he was older?

“Almost…” You quietly replied, you knew you still had a lot of things to fix within yourself like Atsumu had said, it’s not something you can ever get rid of but it’s never bad to take a helping hand once in a while, “Your otosan is helping me and you guys are helping me too, so they’re slowly disappearing…”

“When...when will we meet him? Our otosan?”

You’re silent for a second and you nervously tell them to wait a moment as you go to your room to take out a Polaroid, one with you and Atsumu in it. It’s an old one, taken on your last anniversary. It’s one of those memorabilia's you kept of him that you could never throw away.

You come back to the table and sit across them as you place the picture in front of them, “You’ve met him already…”

Youta’s eyes widen, “Isn’t this…”

“Jiji?” Yuuto finishes, jaw slacken.

You couldn’t tell if they were happy or disappointed at all. Their faces were bare stripped of emotion, the only thing you detected was shock.

“It was never your otosan’s fault, I…” You shakily sighed, holding in the tears, “It was mine, I’m so sorry…I’m so so sorry…”

At that moment, you really didn’t know how you should face them or how you should explain it to them, you were so caught up in your fears and anxiety that you didn’t notice how soft their features became, “Will you tell us?” Youta asks.

You look them both in the eye.

“Will you tell us why where we’re older, kaasan?” Yuuto adds.

Your shaking ceased when you heard those words.

Ah yes, they were their father’s kids. Always so patient, always there to listen to you. How were you blessed with such good kids? You broke down a smile reserved just for them.

“Yes, when you’re ready and older.” You affirmed, bowing down in apology, “I hope you’ll be patient with me then.”

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#miya atsumu x reader #miya atsumu imagine #miya atsumu scenarios #miya atsumu fanfiction #miya atsumu #atsumu x reader #atsumu #atsumu angst #atsumu fluff #miya atsumu angst #miya atsumu fluff #haikyuu imagines #haikyu!! fanfics #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu scenarios #haikyuu headcanons #haikyuu angst #haikyuu fluff

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whatsupspaceman · 4 years

Text

What your avatar-sona says about you!!:

The Buried

- you bought a weighted blanket out of curiosity and now you can’t sleep without it

- made potions out random shit in the backyard as a kid

- gotta wear layers!!!

- have eaten an assortment of things you found outside on dares

- as nice as chilling in a soft pile of dirt sounds you still hate elevators and being trapped

The Corruption

- don’t you just want to be fully consumed by what loves you?

- obviously gay for jane prentiss

- thank god you don’t have trypophobia amirite

- touch starved

- traps spiders under a cup and takes them outside

The Dark

- hate the summer, heat, humidity, and wearing shorts

- you’re probably trans

- “hey what if we did actually destroy the sun thou-“

- running through the dark halls after you turn off the light in the basement is kinda exhilarating tbh

- stays up to ungodly hours bc the night is just so much more peaceful

The Desolation

- you’re a lesbian

- you stuck sticks in campfires just to wave them around and see the sparks

- probably got yelled at by an authority figure for literally playing with fire

- you’ve burned yourself cooking so many times because you get cocky and for some reason never wear oven mitts?? you always use random jackets or towels to take shit out of the oven Why.

The End

- grim reaper aesthetic and/or classic goth

- just wants some peace and quiet

- halloween is your favorite holiday

- takes naps whenever anything goes remotely wrong

- introverted, quiet, want to live in a witches cabin in a nice secluded wooden

The Eye

- we get it you’re gay

- you got bullied in middle school and would escape to the library to read books at a voracious pace you haven’t been able to replicate since

- you know so many obscure facts but you have the insecurity that it’s all surface level knowledge and you don’t actually know shit

- gifted child syndrome

The Flesh

- are you ok....

- tired of having a physical form but also put so much effort into your appearance

- idk the flesh kinda grosses me out you’re on your own for this one

The Hunt

- you like archery but you’ve probably only done it like twice

- every once in a while you get the panicked urge to run away and try to make it on your own in the woods bc wouldn’t that be simpler?

- weird kid. definitely pretended you were an animal 6/7 days of the week.

- also probably growled at people you didn’t like. you Probably grew out of this

- camp counselor aesthetic

The Lonely

- :/

- you’re also gay

- please take care of yourself

- you’ve resigned yourself to the fact that you might never be loved and known truly, but you will, once you find the right people. don’t give up!

- *mitski’s nobody on repeat*

- *also write me letters by the hot freaks on repeat*

- you are a tender soul and hopeless romantic but also like. haha is love even real

- once again don’t give up!!!

The Slaughter

- you’re one of those artists that draws either really aesthetic or really cutesy type gore

- you like knives. you own and carry around a switchblade not because you think you might actually Need the protection, but because it makes you feel cooler. also it makes you feel like a threat.

- you like vampires, and fangs, and anime

The Spiral

- flamboyant and trans

- you probably have adhd

- your main motivation is: you know what what if Other people felt like they were on the verge of going crazy for once? huh??

- “i saw this shirt at a store and the colors literally gave me a headache so of course i bought it”

-another really weird kid. you definitely make art and sometimes it’s the only way you can express what’s goin on inside your head

The Stranger

- you don’t know how to describe yourself that’s why you take so many personality quizzes

- *stares in the mirror* who is that other dog. i don’t like them.

- “haha i don’t have a personality i’m just an amalgamation of everything i’ve ever liked and stolen it”

- hush you Do have a personality. clown

The Vast

- you were obsessed with space and astronauts as a kid, obviously.

- you had your first existential crisis about space and the meaning of life and how small we are at a very young age and it changed how you think about the world

- just a little tastey hint of nihilism

- skydiving!! sky!! diving!! and rollercoasters

- you get flying dreams n wish you were a bird

The Web

- pretty likely to believe in fate

- less likely to believe in free will

- every time you get into a piece of media you have a wall of red strings and theories about plot and predictions

- over analyze everything

- also you have anxiety

- you can’t write Anything until you plan out every single plot point and character arc and scene and shot. i admire your resilience and commitment.

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starglow-xx · 3 years

Text

owning a bakery and being discovered by the ada and the port mafia (part 3)

platonic! yosano akiko x f! reader

type of writing: head canons !!

this is part of my head canon series, flour & fluff !!

tag list is open !! go to this google form and fill it out to sign up!

series synopsis: owning a bakery at 20 is tough; even more so when you have to handle members of two opposing organizations! this is your journey to meeting those fools and creating an unlikely bond with each of them. but only at the cost of your peace and sanity.

fandom: bungou stray dogs

content: fluff & platonic stuff but trigger warning!! there may be a sensitive topic for others

*getting grabbed and pulled to an alleyway! alcohol mentioned!*

please remember that yokohama isn’t the friendliest place, especially at night.

previous: part 2 : their beloved president

author’s note: same ages as last time!! (so that means everyone is one year younger than canon; that makes yosano 24)

this one is actually pretty long :0

i got info abt her likes on her wiki page (careful! there’s spoilers!)

and yosano is a queen and no one can tell me otherwise

the doctor is in the house (quite literally)

going grocery shopping was an okay chore in your opinion

it honestly depended on your mood or whatever kind of shit happens when you go shopping

cause like something always, always happens whenever you go do groceries

sometimes it’s good, sometimes it’s bad, and sometimes it’s just plain weird

one time some weirdo proposed to you in the middle of the store asking for a double suicide

he was good looking you’d admit but it’s not like you’d ever see him again

or so you thought

a n y w a y s

every so often, you’d run out of real person food in your apartment

you mostly survive off all of the leftover bakery treats and ingredients—which works out pretty well actually—but bakery supplies unfortunately also run out quite often

and also unfortunately, one time when both fukuzawa & ranpo took a visit to Sakura’s, fukuzawa argued that “no you can’t live off sweets for the rest of your life”

ranpo was scandalized and scrambled to cover your ears

you guys were at it for a while

in the end you sided with fukuzawa causing ranpo to go off about “betrayal from the people he cared most abt” or smth like that

you guys were okay again after bribing him with sweets :)

for bakery supplies you usually have them delivered bc you order them in large quantities bc ahaha no way were you gonna carry like 15-20 50 pound bags of flour no way

when days like those happen, you close up the bakery early so you aren’t walking home when it’s too dark

you scheduled it to happen every first saturday of the month

on those saturdays, you close at 5 instead of at 8

currently, you were at the grocery store looking for basic cooking ingredients such as proteins, vegetables, fruits, and most importantly, snacks

ranpo’s been rubbing off on you

the sun was starting to set and you were walking home with your two bags of groceries when shit went down

tbh you were kinda expecting it cause your grocery run was peaceful for once

but what you weren’t expecting was a wack-a-do to appear out of goddamn nowhere right when you were opening the side door to get to the staircase up to your apartment

like honestly

let a woman do her own thing

the man who grabbed you tried to covered your mouth so you couldn’t scream but you didn’t exactly make it easy for him

you kicked and thrashed around even using the grocery bags—that were somehow still in your hand—as a weapon and the man struggled but he was still bigger than you and was able to bring you to a nearby alley

he reeked of alcohol and you spotted a wedding band on his left hand

not that you cared about the detail in the moment

you kicked him in the groin and in response he let you go only to fall on broken glass that was in the alley way

using the wall to help yourself up, you grabbed a nearby wooden stick and struck him right on his back

your attacker fell and you immediately turned on your heels to escape only to fall back down on the hard cold ground once again

you lift your face up and look back to see the man holding onto your ankle

grabbing a shard of glass—cutting yourself in the process— you begin to swing it at him only for him to easily grip your wrist and stop you

you get ready try and kick him in the groin again but you’re interrupted as your attacker gets sucker punched and flies to wall

you look up to see your savior and you’re blessed to see a beautiful woman, probably not that much older than you are—she’s probably around ranpo’s age— donning a white long sleeve button up, a matching black necktie, knee length skirt, and gloves, along with tights, red heels, and a pretty butterfly clip in her short black hair

but what you really notice is her eyes

ranpo’s eyes were pretty but you like hers just a bit more

you’ve always liked the color magenta

the pretty lady holds out her hand and you take it graciously and thank her as she helps you up

as that’s happening, your attacker gets himself onto his feet and his groan catches both of your attention

he struggles to stand and the pretty lady simples saunters over to him and delivers an uppercut knocking him out cold

you’re stunned and you breathe out a “thank you” making her turn towards you

she notices the condition you’re in

bleeding scrapes on your hands, arms and legs, small rips in your clothes like your tights, blouse, and skirt, and the ruffled state of your hair and clothing

she asks if you live nearby and you tell her that you own the bakery that’s one or two buildings away

when you tell her that, it clicks in her mind that you must be the bakery girl ranpo’s been talking about and the friend fukuzawa was cat sitting for

it’s been abt two weeks since ranpo and fukuzawa first met you and since then, they’ve seen lucky in the office plenty and the boxes of your signature sweets even more

if those two trust you, she has no reason not to

she smiles at you, holds out her hand for you to shake, and introduces herself as the doctor of the armed detective agency

your eyes widen and you smile back at her shaking her hand

“ah! you must be yosano-sensei then! ranpo-san and fukuzawa-san have talked about you! it’s so nice to meet you! im (l/n) (y/n)!”

“they’ve talked about you too, it’s a pleasure to finally meet you (y/n)”

after that exchange she insisted on bringing you home to treat you wounds which you told her it wasn’t necessary

she gave you a pointed look and that was when you realized what state you were in

you sighed and weakly gave in to which she only grinned at

before leaving the alley she walks over to the unconscious man and pulls out his wallet for some sort of identification and home address as you try to see if there’s any groceries still salvageable

after texting the details to kunikida, yosano turns to you poking around the now ruined grocery bags

she simply rubs your back and tells you that the both of you could go buy more groceries together as she was meaning to get some anyways; she even said she’ll pay for you

you refused obviously but she, unknowingly, used the same tactic fukuzawa used with you

“so you’re saying you don’t need groceries?”

“...”

*cue an eyebrow raise from our resident queen*

“...you agency members don’t like making things easy for me huh.”

you gave in reluctantly and at this point you don’t even know why you try negotiating with them

and that’s only three of them

apparently, she was on the other side of the street on the way to buy groceries for the agency when she noticed different produce items on the other sidewalk leading to the alley and she went to check out what happened

ironically, the way to the grocery store from the agency makes you go past Sakura’s but she didn’t realize it until after the two of you had met

before you know it, the two of you are in your apartment kitchen as she cleans and patches up all of your wounds

as she does so the two of you have a little girl talk

you find it quite comforting bc since you opened up Sakura’s you haven’t really had the chance to connect to many people much less other women

you definitely see yosano as your cool, loving, badass older sister

she thinks you’re adorable and agrees with ranpo’s opinion

yup

that’s right

the opinion that you’re like a little kid </3

you called it a betrayal and all she did was laugh at you <//3

“awhh that’s really cool yosano-sensei!—MFPH?!?”

*squishing your cheeks the same way ranpo did* “ranpo-san was right (n/n)-chan, your cheeks are squishy!”

“?!”

after that small fiasco, the two of you talked some more and bonded over your love for flowers, japanese sweets, and much more!!

you even made a date to have a girls day to go shopping and eat out!

you’re internally squealing a bit bc it’s been a while since you’ve gone shopping

yosano notices and she giggles behind her hand not saying anything bc she knows you’ll only throw a fit

the two of you came around the topic of ranpo when lucky passed by

lucky quickly warmed up to the doctor and cozied up in her lap

“i wish ranpo-san was able to meet lucky when he came by the first time, but then again, he’d probably throw a tantrum if i don’t pay attention to him for 5 seconds”

she snorted at that and like fukuzawa, she shared stories abt the slightly older male

“ranpo-san doesn’t know how to ride a train?”

“unbelievable right?”

“for someone so intelligent i expected more from him”

“i’ll be telling that to ranpo-san, (n/n)-chan”

“wha—?! yosano-sensei please don’t!”

like ranpo, she’s also a tease </3

but you love her anyway <3

eventually, she finished patching you up and promised to treat you to a new set of clothes when the two of you go out

“you don’t need to lose a good set of clothes just because of a sleazy man (n/n)-chan! you deserve better!”

you were going to argue that the rips in your clothes were fairly small and could easily be fixed—except the tights—but you stopped in your tracks when you remembered that it was practically useless to argue against an ada member

the two of you walked to the grocery store and bought both of your needed supplies—along with some extra goodies—and then she walked you back to your place bc it was already a bit dark out

but even if it wasn’t, she would walk you anyways

besides, if anything happened to you, she’s 1000% positive that ranpo and fukuzawa are gonna flip the fuck out not that she wont cause she most definitely will

speaking of which

you were drinking a bottle of water as the two of made your way back to Sakura’s when all of a sudden

“(y/n) you do realize that i have to tell shachou and ranpo-san about what happened today right?”

you choked on your water

“yosano-sensei you can’t! if you do they’ll freak! they won’t leave me alone for at least two weeks! one if im lucky!”

“exactly the point”

you just accepted your defeat already knowing that you’d lose

but maybe you can simmer down their anger towards the bastard with sweets and lucky

you arrived at Sakura’s shortly after and after bringing groceries in, you packaged a bunch of pastries leftover from today—bc you closed early—and bc you’re well aware that ranpo doesn’t share any of the sweets you send him with

you even gave yosano her own special box filled with goodies she loves, and a thermos of fukuzawa’s favorite, your special hot honey lemon tea

other than the sweets, you prepared lucky to spend the night at fukuzawa’s

you really really hoped that doing these things would make them calm down

you shivered at the thought of what their responses would be

you felt really bad for giving yosano all these things to carry and that you were keeping her very late

she assured you that she was fine and that if someone tried to mess with her she’d kick their ass

and after exchanging numbers, the magenta eyed queen bid you a good night and walked back to the agency with lucky walking by her heels

arriving back at the agency, yosano was greeted with some concerns asking if she was alright bc she came back from her grocery run pretty late

(she usually goes in the mornings but today was pretty busy so she left in the late afternoon but now it was already dark)

she waved off the concerns and plopped a couple boxes of your signature bakery boxes at ranpo’s desk, the one for her at her own, the last few boxes in the kitchen for any other agent or clerk to grab, placed the thermos on the desk fukuzawa was by, and picked up lucky and handed him to the president

the two males were pleased with what yosano had brought them, and pleased that another agency member had the chance to meet you

fukuzawa was rubbing lucky and ranpo already snacking on treats as yosano expected

but here comes the hard part

or maybe it’s gonna amusing who knows

“i met (y/n) today.”

“we could tell.”

in goes another treat in the green eyed man’s mouth

“would you like to know how?”

“you bumped into each other, had girl talk, made plans to go out, went grocery shopping, and you brought me and shachou presents.”

“great job ranpo-san, you’re almost completely correct.”

this caught the attention of basically everyone bc they knew ranpo was never “almost completely correct”

“we ended up meeting bc she got attacked on her way home from grocery shopping, i treated her wounds, then we had girl talk and did all the other stuff”

ranpo and fukuzawa froze right in their tracks

“i sent all the info of the bastard to kunikida”

“kunikida.”

“yes shachou”

“find out everything about that man and bring it to me and ranpo”

“...yes shachou”

“and yosano”

“yes?”

“text (y/n) and tell her that her cat, tea, and pastries aren’t going to work as a bribe”

just as you finished taking a shower you sneezed

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