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dekus-fellow-crybaby · 17 days

Note

helloooooo i wanted to ask to see if you’ll write a bakudeku x fem!chubby!reader smut, where reader has hip dips and stretch marks and isn’t proud of them. but then deku and katsuki come along and show her what she’s not seeing in herself.

if you don’t feel like doing this then please ignore thanks >.<❤️

First off this is my first inbox ask and I cried a little bit when I saw it! Thank you so much for reading and sending this ask! I’m so excited and I would love to do this! I actually already had something in the works as a comfort piece for myself and this was just the motivation I needed to finish and post it! Hope you enjoy!

Convincing

Warnings: NSFW. 18+ only. Minors DNI. Aged-up Characters, threesome (mmf), pre-established poly relationship, angst with happy ending(s—see the double meaning there? *wink wink*), hurt-comfort, horrible self-image, internalized fatphobia, a little self-indulgence writing, oral sex (female receiving), fingering, dirty talk, slight praise kink, slight degradation but in a good way. Please lmk if I missed anything!

This was more of a plot with porn because I wanted to end it on a sweet note that I had, but I’m happy to add a second part with more smut if you want—this honestly ended up being more of a self-healing writing experience featuring my own struggles with my insecurities than I had wanted, and I’m sorry if this isn’t what you were expecting anon, but sometimes that’s just where the writing takes me. I can always add another dirtier part but I hope that you still enjoyed it! Please lmk!

50 likes, 15 reblogs, and 10 comments asking for a part 2!

Word Count: 2.5k

It was supposed to be a nice surprise for your boys. You were supposed to look so cute and sexy, just for your heroes. But looking in the mirror, you don't feel that way. Your chest is practically spilling out of the pretty black material with orange and green trim, and not in a way you like. You had bought a set for both Izuku and Katsuki with the release of a line of hero lingerie, hoping that the night might turn into something that could take their minds off work after such a stressful week, but looking at the Dynamight set you're sporting, you suddenly don't feel like it. You feel uncomfortable in your skin as you stare at the reflection, thinking about how it looked so much better on the model. And suddenly that thought is ruining the makeup you'd spent so much time perfecting.

You wanted to look and feel so pretty, but now you just look and feel like a mess. You have no idea what was wrong either. You bought the right size with the cutest garter and stocking to go with the sets...and you were so excited for them to arrive! You'd done your hair and makeup, you shaved and moisturized every inch of skin that you could, you put on your favorite perfume (coincidentally Katsuki's favorite too), your favorite lipgloss (coincidentally Izuku's favorite too). You felt good about yourself...until you put on the first set. You hate the way it looks on your body...but maybe it's just the specific set! Maybe it's just that the cut wasn't falling right on your figure. You have a newfound hope as you strip the Dynamight-inspired set and replace it with the green lingerie that matched Deku's hero suit. You even switch out the black stockings for a pair of red ones to match his signature red sneakers.

But again, your smile falls as you face your glass reflection. Your eyes begin to scrutinize every imperfection and you watch the tears roll down your face and smudge your makeup. Your hands gently graze your breasts, trailing down over your stomach, fingers tracing the stretchmarks there before continuing their track over your hips, diving with their dips and flaring out over your thick thighs. Your nose scrunches up and your mouth pouts out as your breathing picks up angrily with your irate sobs, your frustration rolling off of you in waves. You're so stuck in your head about how upset you feel over your own body that you don't even hear Izuku opening the front door and padding through your apartment. He opens his mouth to call out for you when his pro-hero-level hearing tunes into your small hiccups and whimpers. His bright smile falls immediately, and he resists every urge to activate One For All to speed over to where he could hear your quiet cries. His steps are so soft as he peeks through your bedroom door, seeing you in the cutest lingerie that perfectly shows off the lovely curves he and Kacchan adore so much. And it's designed after his hero suit! But...he can't understand your sobs. Why would you be crying while looking like such a perfect vision?

"Bunny?"

It's like a switch. Your sobs go silent, your shoulders tense, and your arms curl around your torso. But how could you be so cruel to obscure Midoriya from his favorite view?

"Bunny, what's wrong?"

You scoot over to your bed gently, pulling the top blanket over your shoulders. You refuse to show your face with your back towards him. "Hey, honey, I wasn't expecting you to be here so soon." Your voice was broken and shaky, tearing little holes into his heart with each syllable. "I was just...changing."

"Bunny...I-I'm actually a little late..." He watched you freeze before hearing your desperate attempt to lighten the mood with a breathy little laugh.

"Oh, I must have lost track...I'm almost ready. Just finishing up. I'll be out in a minute."

"Bunny..."

You shuffled around in a hurry, busying yourself with getting ready. "Really, I'll just be a moment if you'd like to wait in the living room. Or you could go wash up. I'm sure work was a bit hectic."

"Bunny." His voice was stern and you froze in your frenzy of pretending to be okay. He walked up behind you, slowly, cautiously. He gently placed his hands on your stiff shoulders and urged you to turn around. He maneuvered your body to face him, but you refused to look up into his emerald eyes. His fingers grip gingerly at your chin, tilting your head up to meet his gaze. He's always loved your eyes glistening and the sight of your makeup smudged, but it was always under different, much more passionate and erotic circumstances. But this—the broken and deer-in-headlights look on your face—this he didn't love. "Talk to me, pretty girl."

Something just...breaks inside you and the tears start up again. You feel so vulnerable, so...not pretty, that you don't know how to react other than to push at his hard chest as hot, angry tears roll out of your eyes. He barely budges from his spot though as you attempt to throw him off you. How dare he? How dare he call you pretty when you look like this? When you had mascara streaking down your ruddy cheeks and your skin was spilling over the cursed set strangling your body? How could he look at you so sweetly and so adoringly? His arms enveloped you, pulled you into his chest, and shushed you sweetly. "Bunny, please talk to me. What's wrong?" You shook your head against his chest, a denial on the tip of your tongue. "Don't say it's nothing. It's not nothing." You push away from him again, nearly stumbling back. Before he could utter another word, however, a gruff voice made itself heard.

"What's going on here?" The both of you turn to look at the ruby eyes that bore into you. Your arms instinctively wrap tighter around yourself, hiding away from the second gaze that was roaming over your blanketed body. As the silence grew more potent, Katsuki's trained eyes studied the two of you, a brow twitching at the sight of your tear-streaked face. "You two get into a fight?"

"No, no," Izuku immediately defended, flailing his arms in front of himself as if the motion would swipe away the thoughts in Kacchan's head. "Not fighting...Bunny, however, is keeping something from us."

Us. So alienating. They had a habit of doing this, of teaming up against you when it was for your benefit. You want to say you hate it but, typically, that was a lie. However, tonight was an exception. And you hated how they were so determined to pull back the curtains that kept you hidden and protected from their pity and false flatteries.

"Oh, yeah?" Katuski takes a step closer to you, his heavy combat boots booming across the flooring. "What're you hiding, Teddy Bear?"

Your nose wrinkles, your brows pull together, and your hands push against a solid chest. "Nothing." You turn your head away from the two, your eye catching a glimpse of yourself in the mirror and your scowl only deepens before you turn your head away, grip tightening on the blanket around you.

"Seriously?" Katsuki tsks. "You gonna fuckin’ lie to me, pretty girl?"

"Can you both just stop that?" You feel the fury rising from your gut. You can't even verbalize what you’re feeling to yourself yet the two men are demanding answers from you about it, teasing you with such a cruel nickname. And you just have to put a stop to it.

"Stop what?" Izuku pleads. "Stop asking what's wrong?"

Katsuki's eyes squint at your figure. He noticed how you bristled when he addressed you moments before. "Or stop calling you 'pretty girl'?" He definitely sees your shoulders stiffen more at that. Bingo. Izuku's eyes go wide at that, noticing the chilliness in the air suddenly. "I'm not gonna stop calling you that, it's the truth."

"Bullshit," you grumble lowly.

"'Scuse me?" Katsuki snaps back. Your head rolls back on your shoulders, a bratty huff releasing in an exhale. Turning around, you finally look the explosive blonde in the eye with your own eyes rimmed red and an impassive expression marring your lovely features.

"You heard me," you slowly utters, your tone eerily calm. "Stop calling me pretty. It's just bullshit." Izuku looks as if you had physically smacked him with your words, his eyes going wide and teary. Katsuki looks like you'd just insulted his mother—well, maybe not his mother—but like you'd just dragged All Might's good name through the mud.

"Oi!" he snaps viciously, his body immediately moving towards you, rough hands grabbing at your face, fire in his eyes. "No one talks about my girl that way! Not even you!" Scoffing, you slap his hands away, though you refuse to back down. Instead you retaliate by getting in his face. You and Katsuki had that bad habit of refusing to back down. Whether you were right or wrong, it didn't matter.

"You cannot seriously tell me that this is pretty!" Dropping the blanket, you turn away from them and back to the mirror, your hands clawing at every imperfection that you had picked apart beforehand, fingers pinching at the bits of cellulite and the stretchmarks that outline your skin. You're so busy marking off your least favorite parts of yourself, your eyes blurring with the frustration spilling out in salty droplets, that you don't notice the looks in their eyes. "Can you honestly tell me that you find this pretty?"

"Yes," Katsuki stresses, his frustration seething into that single word heavily. "How fucking dense are you, bunny?"

With a wrinkle of your nose, you open your mouth to spit back a retort, but it soon dies in your throat at the meek sound of your greenette boyfriend.

"Do you think these are ugly?" Izuku spoke up, voice watery and broken. Your eyes meet him in the mirror as he pulls up his sleeve, showing off the scars sporting the previously mangled and crooked limb. Your wrath ebbed at the inquiry. A hand ran shakily through your hair, an unsteady breath tickling past your lips. You turn towards him, noticing the tears shining in his gemlike irises that you hadn't noticed through the looking glass.

"Izuku..." you breathe out softly. "You know that's not what I meant."

"But how's it different?" He pesters, a scoff rising from his throat as he rips his shirt off. “These marks are apart of me now, and no, I don’t think they’re pretty, but every time I think of you and Kacchan, I remember why I have them. And…every time I look at them I remember when you’ve touched them or kissed them. I look at them now and I don’t remember the pain of getting them. I remember how you made them feel special and beautiful.” He stomped over to you at that, hooking his hands on the backs of your knees and sending you falling against the mattress, your body splayed out just for them. “And now, I’m gonna show you exactly how you made me feel about my scars.” His lips hungrily claim yours, a surprising contrast to how his fingers ghost over the sides of your stocking-covered thighs, and then drag up to your hip dips, then your love handles before localizing his grasp to your waist while his thumbs trace over the stretch marks weaving up your stomach. He barely pulls away from your addictive mouth to breathe against your lips, pulling a shiver from your body. “How’re you so blind? Do you really think that this wouldn’t get to me? To us?” His hips grind into yours, pulling small moans from both of your throats at the slightest friction against his achingly hard dick. “God, look at whatchu do to me, bunny…look at whatchu do to him.” His fingers dig gently into your cheeks to turn your attention to your other boyfriend who strokes himself through his sweats, bottom lip slotting between his teeth. The blonde makes a show of pulling out his hardness from the confines of his sweats, gripping the base and groaning before tugging slowly, as his eyes never leave yours. Despite knowing that cock intimately—its shape, its weight, its velvety drag against your sensitive walls—you still blush whenever you see it and its true size in comparison to his meaty hands. The sight always leaves you to wonder how it ever fits inside you. "See that, bunny?" Katsuki let out a chuckle as you mindlessly nod your head in answer.

"Whatcha gonna do about it, honey?" The blonde asks while slowly stroking the monster between his legs. "You gonna let us show you how pretty you are?" Your teeth sink into your bottom lip, your eyes downcast, and your stomach turns, trying to push down the negative feelings that arise at the word. A rough hand reaches out and grips your chin, turning your eyes to the pair that stare down at you. "Why do you hate being called pretty so much? You're perfect, baby, we want you to believe that."

You can't help the way that your voice comes out in such a soft lilt. "I don't know how to believe that..." And the sound just breaks your boys' hearts.

A scarred hand comes up to tilt your head back, sets of vermillion and viridian eyes gazing into your own. Izuku leans down, his lips brushing over yours while whispering, "Take your time, we'll prove it to you," before he surges forward to capture your mouth in a sweet kiss. He barely pulls away from you to stare into your eyes, silently conveying his pure need for you to understand his words. His lips slowly start to pepper your lips, the corners of your mouth, cheeks, nose, jaw, neck...and then another set of lips was pressing into your temple, traveling down to your nose, making their way back to your lips. Hands are everywhere, gently grazing your breasts, trailing down over your stomach, fingers tracing the stretchmarks there before continuing their track over your hips, diving with their dips and flaring out over your thick thighs. A gentle set of palms rest against your knees for a moment before tearing them apart as a body is slot between them. The finger swiping through your core over the fabric sends a strong shiver up your spine and a moan bubbling in your throat.

Katsuki chuckles while watching your reaction. “Doin' somethin' right, Deku. Our girl is so sensitive.”

“Love how responsive she is,” Izuku groans, nose nudging at your puffy lips through your panties before a tongue shyly pokes out, making your legs twitch. Izuku huffs out a laugh as he pulls your underwear to the side to appreciate your shaved pussy. “Aww, you put in all this effort for us, bunny? You didn’t have to do that. We love how you are always.” Before another bratty response can come out of your mouth, a warm, wet muscle is swirling around your clit tentatively. Yeah, that effectively shuts you up and shuts out those ugly insecurities floating in your mind.

You barely register the mirthful lilt of Katsuki’s laugh as he watches Izuku work. “Gone dumb already, bun? Is that whatchu need, huh? Need us to wipe your mind clean and start from scratch to make you believe that you’re beautiful? Then so be it, honey. I’ve got all the fucking time in the world, baby.” He nearly rivals Izuku’s sinful tongue tracing his and Katsuki’s names in kanji over your clit with those words of his. Every time he opens his mouth in the bedroom is a work of fucking art, and this moment was no different as the men wear you down and pick your body apart in the best way possible. “Oh, you got nothing to say now, bunny? Good. You just shut up, lay back, and let us take care of our gorgeous girl. It’s all about you tonight.”

And they do. In every sense of the word, they take care of you. In the way that Izuku’s mouth slurps up your arousal and teases your entrance with a set of crooked fingers, in the way that Katsuki spills pure filth and praise from his lips while he strokes his cock in front of your face, showing and telling you all the ways that you make his body crave yours, in the way that Katsuki’s fingers soothingly drag through your sweaty locks as Izuku brings you to your first orgasm, and in the way that Izuku just doesn’t stop worshipping your body or your sweet pussy. Your boys know how to take care of their beautiful girl.

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kiwixlime · 2 years

Text

Beneath My Skin

W is for Wicked

There’s something wicked about Samuel Drake.

Pairing: Samuel Drake x Female Reader Warnings: Mentions of abuse, angst, murder, blood, obsession, stalker!sam, unhealthy relationships. Other notes: I'm so sorry for my absence. I just haven't been feeling creative lately. So this isn't my best. But it's something I wanted to experiment with. Obviously, this will not be the only dark!Sam I write. But it's a start. Thank you for your patience with me!

“It’s not coming off,” you sob, loud and broken, in the bathroom of a run-down gas station in the middle of nowhere. Anxiety spreads through you as you scrub violently at your blood-stained hands, hot water burning the fresh layer of skin exposed. The panic sets in as you watch the water run red without any color coming off of you.

You look up at the dirty mirror at the reflection that stares back at you. Through the chips and the cracks, you see your tired face, eyes filled with exhaustion and tears, begging for sleep. But it’s not your appearance that frightens you; that turns your blood to ice.

Behind you, he stands, rough hands on your shoulders, squeezing in comfort. No. Warning. Telling you to keep it together. This isn’t the time or place for you to lose your cool. Relax, inhale and exhale, and continue.

It’s the fierce look in the man's bright eyes that turns you to stone. You’re afraid of what will happen, of what he’ll do, if you take one step out of line. But you can't stop fidgeting.

This is your life now. It is you and him on the run and against the world. Just you and Samuel Drake. Forever. As long as you both shall live.

More tears fall as you think about your future and where you’ll go from here. Accepting your fate, if you will. You were the one to get yourself into this mess. Now, you have to deal with the consequences.

“Easy,” Sam says from behind you, stepping aside and gently grabbing your sensitive hands. “Here,” he grabs a few paper towels from the dispenser, holding them under the steady stream of the faucet. He adds a few pumps of soap before gently brushing the paper towels over your hands, around your fingers, and up to your wrist.

Sam is quite a complex character. He's someone you never expected to befriend. The way he handles you now with such softness and care is totally different from the violence you witnessed hours ago. You look at how he takes care of you, cleaning the evidence from your hands, and you have a hard time accepting the darkness crawling within his heart. Who he really is...

Your eyes meet his, your insides calming slightly as those hazel irises stare you down. He’s insane; he's downright certifiable. But he’s so devoted to you. And you know that with him, you are safe. You know that he would do anything to keep you that way. Even if his actions to prove it are horrific.

Even if he turns you into a killer.

“You need to breathe,” he says sternly, clearly irritated by the events. His annoyance isn’t directed at you, just the situation and the adrenaline pulsing through you two. He hates seeing you so broken up about this, but there was no other choice. And he'll defend your decision until the day he dies. “It was self-defense. You did what you had to do.”

“I didn’t have to do anything, Sam!” You snap, whimpering when his fingers squeeze your wrist just a little tighter than before, warning you not to talk back to him. You curl in on yourself, feeling small, but hold your ground. “W-we,” you hiccup through tears. “We should have just run away! We should have left. H-he wasn't going to hurt me again.”

“That’s bullshit and you know it,” Sam says harshly, tugging you closer and ignoring the sharp pain in his arm. His lips press into a firm, thin line, and he doesn’t say anything more as he holds your hands under the hot water, washing away the soap, dirt, and blood. You sigh in relief as they go back to normal, slowly but surely, revealing your natural skin color.

Afraid to look at Sam, you keep your eyes focused on the mix of red and brown amongst the white bubbles in the sink. You know he’s right. And you hate that he’s right. But if you hadn’t made the first move, Sam would be dead, and you would be the one in the back of a trunk.

The cabin by the lake has always been your safe space. The place you go to be free from the stress of work or the troubles of your everyday life. It’s where you go when you need to be alone and away from the man who tells you he loves you.

You enjoy the solitude, the peace and quiet. It gives you time to think about your life, your personal relationships, and what they mean to you. You keep your phone on you even though you don’t get service out here. But it’s nice to have it close by, to hold on to, an object to keep you grounded.

Going through the photos as you dip your toes into the chill of the lake takes your mind somewhere else. As you swipe away the pictures, a funny feeling churns your stomach. Especially when you come across the ones of you and your boyfriend.

There’s a tightening in your chest as you stare a little too long at the photo from your last trip to this cabin. Nick has his arms around you, lips pressed to your cheek as you wear a smile as bright as diamonds. You look happy. You look in love.

But all the warmth that photo brings disappears when you remember what happened after. What always happens after… When Nick doesn’t like the tone of your voice or thinks you’re talking back to him. When he hates seeing you on your phone, assuming there’s someone else grabbing and holding your attention. When you aren’t as attentive to him when your kisses aren’t as passionate. There’s a different side to him, one these pretty pictures do not capture.

It was stupid to come to the lake. You know that here is the first place Nick will come looking for you. But your heart ached for it. It yearned for the comfort and the familiarity of a place you love.

The mist settles over the water with the trees barely visible through the fog. Just edges of evergreen poking through the thick white blanket around you. A pretty landscape you happily drink in as you inhale the scent of rainwater and exhale the pain surrounding your heart.

Sometimes you think that pain is worse than the physical stuff. The wounds on your body can’t compare to the wounds that bleed through your soul. Broken bones and bruises will heal. The mental gashes you incurred will be there forever.

It saddens you how much your life has changed. How sheltered you’ve become. And all because of one person. Someone who says they love you. Someone who tells you they’ll protect you. Someone who puts their hands on you when you’re not listening.

Staring out at the lake, you appreciate the few minutes of safety you come across. For a brief second, you miss having someone next to you. But that quickly fades when you realize you don’t have anyone you trust anymore. Nick made sure of that. You lost your friends, and you cut contact with your family. You truly feel alone.

Until...

A twig snaps in the distance, and you jump, mortified that you’ve been found so soon. You look around frantically, your heart pumping and ready to burst from your chest. But the scenery is so motionless that you can’t see any activity, not even the leaves rustling in the wind.

Back towards the cabin, the driveway is empty. No cars in sight. That's a good sign. However, it means that your visitor is in hiding. They could surprise you at any minute. You swallow down the worry that wants to come up and push yourself up from the dock, slowly stepping your way towards the wooded area adjacent to the lake.

“H-hello?” You call out with a quiver in your voice that seems permanently there. “I know you’re out there,” you whimper, crossing your arms and hugging yourself tightly. “C-come out!” You demand, but your voice is small, quiet. Not at all threatening.

But it works. The intruder listens and steps out from behind a large tree, eyes dark and threatening. You should be terrified, scared shitless that you're being watched, but the beating of your heart slows down, and you find yourself relieved.

“Sam,” you breathe, voice still trembling. “What are you doing here?”

“What do you think?” He grunts, stumbling out of the woods and into view. “You’re an idiot for coming here on your own, you know that right?”

“You followed me,” you state, as though you’re surprised by it.

“Yes, darling,” Sam scoffs. “That is what stalkers do.”

You frown as a wide range of emotions shuffles through you. Stalker. The way the word rolls off Sam’s tongue is scary. But you’ve become used to it. And yes, it’s weird that you’re on friendly terms with a man who’s been following you around for the better part of a year. But you’ve come to the conclusion that you’d rather have an unhinged man around who notices every little thing about you than an abusive man who would hit you the first chance he got.

At least when you’re near Sam, you know nothing bad will happen to you. It’s just the lack of privacy that gets annoying. And the fact that he seems to know more about yourself than you actually do.

“What are you even doing here? Are you asking to get caught?” He accuses as he steps closer to you. On instinct, you back up, even though you’ve been in closer proximity to Sam before and he’s never hurt you. Quite the opposite of Nick, actually.

“I needed some space,” you say, looking down at the dewy grass that brushes over your shoes. You feel shame as the words leave your lips. “I just wanted to get away.”

Sam rolls his eyes and cautiously walks towards the cabin up the hill. His steps are swift and nimble as he scans the area for any other intruders. Like an idiot, you follow close behind, fearful that someone else will jump out and grab you. Rather insane how safe you feel with a man who has openly admitted to following you to and from home.

But as crazy as Sam is, he’s passionate. He’s said before how he’ll always protect you. And even though it’s a ridiculous thought, you believe him. And for that reason, you feel comfortable having him around.

“This is the first place he’ll look for you,” Sam whispers back to you. “Is that what you want? For him to fucking find you?” He sounds angry and you don’t know if it’s because he’s concerned for your well-being or if he’s jealous, thinking you might still have feelings for Nick.

“I wasn’t planning on staying that long,” you mumble as you trot quickly to catch up with him. The cabin comes into view and your breath hitches when you see a car parked in the driveway that wasn’t there before. “Sam,” you whimper, pulling at the back of his gray long-sleeved shirt.

His body stiffens before relaxing at your touch. “I see,” he grumbles, reaching around to grab your hand. He holds onto you tightly, keeping you hidden behind him. “Don’t do anything stupid, got it?” He asks and you simply nod. “Don’t try to talk to him. Don’t try to reason. If I say run, you run.”

“Okay,” you whisper as your body starts to shake. Nothing will happen. Sam is with you. You’re safe with him. Just breathe.

With Sam’s hand in yours, you feel a little calmer. But then he says the one thing that makes the hair on the back of your neck stand up. Fear reaches every part of your body from the roots of your hair to the tips of your toes. And you just can’t stand it.

“I see him,” Sam whispers, and his grasp on you tightens. A weird situation you find yourself in. No, a terrible situation is more accurate. Stuck between an abuser and a stalker. How did your life end up like this? What otherworldly being did you piss off?

Panic sits tightly in your chest. You’re not sure what you’ll do if you catch a glimpse of Nick. Your first instinct, of course, is to run. But you can’t do that. You know you can’t. And god, Sam would be pissed if you tried.

“Hey,” Sam catches your attention quietly, turning around so you’re face-to-face. “It’s okay, baby, I’m not going to let anything happen to you.” His voice is so sincere, full of warmth, and something so intense it makes your stomach drop. But you feel oddly safe. Safe with this insane man. “Go, run from here, hide and stay out of sight. I'll take care of this.”

“But, Sam,” you whine, feeling a nervous pang rattle through your body. If it comes down to fighting, you’re not sure Sam would come out alive. Nick is vicious. He’s brutal.

He’s deadly.

Sam ignores your hesitation, instead kissing your forehead and nudging you away towards the woods. Dread takes over and you quickly run in the opposite direction of where Sam walks, feet pounding against the wet ground as your heart thumps against your chest. Running for your life, you feel the burn in your legs, but you won’t give up. Not until you’re safe.

Skidding into the woods, you barely miss running head first into a tree. But you use it to your benefit, digging into the bark with your nails as you anxiously try to catch a glimpse of what’s happening up by the cabin. You can’t see much, but you’re able to make out Sam’s tall figure.

Their voices are loud as they approach each other. Nick yells out, calling for your name while glaring daggers at Sam. Luckily, Sam is on your side, refusing to divulge any details about your whereabouts.

“Why are you here, Nick? You know she doesn’t want anything to do with you. This is just pathetic.” You hear Sam mock the other man. He’s fearless against Nick, something you could never comprehend. Then again, Sam’s brain is obviously wired differently. You could never comprehend stalking someone, either.

It’s Nick’s voice you hear next, and his tone makes you flinch, bringing back memories of how he’d scream at you. You feel lightheaded as his words fill the air, suffocating you. Your fingers claw at the tree that hides you, keeping you from losing yourself in those dark thoughts. You’re okay. Nick can’t see you.

“You fucking fool!” Nick shouts with laughter, loud and frightening. “I’m pathetic? Seriously?” He scoffs. “Oh, man, you’re the one following around a woman who will never love you! Are you not embarrassed?”

“She feels safer with me than she does with you,” Sam spits back, confidently. “Says a lot about your character, doesn’t it?”

Nick scoffs and you try to peer through the trees to see what’s going on, cringing when the next sentence leaves your boyfriend’s mouth. “Does it piss you off, Sam, knowing that I fucked her?”

Silence follows, and your stomach drops. You know Nick’s not done. And you’re afraid that he’ll keep going until Sam does something stupid that gets himself killed.

“It does, right?” Nick taunts, voice dripping with something vicious. “You hate that I’ve fucked her, that I’ve used her. You hate that she’s screamed my name as I made her cum. And you’ll never have that fucking chance, you fucking freak.” He laughs. “She’ll never want you.”

Those words hit you hard, leaving you with an uncomfortable clenching in your stomach. And you’re so focused on this new sensation that you can’t pay attention to the men anymore or the scuffle that’s happening between them. It’s not until you hear the crisp shot of gunfire that you refocus.

The echo of the gun is followed by a scream from Sam. For some reason, you feel the need to help him. He’s protected you in many ways. Now it’s your turn. Oh, it’s crazy. This is crazy. But you do it.

You come barreling out of the woods, running out into the chaos ahead of you. Your eyes fall on Sam, hunched over and holding his arm. His body shakes slightly as painful groans pour out of him. When he pulls his hand away, you see his crimson-covered palm. He’s been shot.

“What did you do!” You yell at Nick while going over to tend to Sam. Panicked, you wrap your arm around his, helping him to his feet. You can’t stop looking at the blood gushing through his shirt. If he dies on you, you’ll be so fucked. “Sam, are you okay?”

“Jesus Christ,” Nick snorts in frustration. “You’re just as fucked up as he is!”

Angrily, you turn to scold him, but your entire body goes numb when you see him aiming the gun at you. As morbid as it is, you always knew Nick would be the reason you died. You just didn’t think it would be by gunshot. “What--”

You’re nearly knocked off your feet as Sam bolts past you, tackling Nick with all of this strength, trying to reach for the gun. He’s successful in getting it away from you, but Nick is still waving it around wildly in the air, using Sam’s disability to his advantage. You scream for them to stop, but they don’t listen.

“Get the fuck off of me, you fucking psycho!” Nick yells, ripping his way out of Sam’s hold, molding his hand into a fist and cracking it against Sam’s jaw. “Fuck!”

Sam stumbles, falling back to the ground with Nick hovering above him. Murder flares through his eyes, and he raises the gun again, aiming it at Sam’s head. Your heart is racing as you try to think of a way to stop him. But you don’t know how. Nick is going to kill Sam. Then he’s going to kill you. There’s nothing you can do.

“I’m gonna enjoy this,” Nick spits, cocking the gun.

The chilling sound clears the fog from your mind, and you remember when you left your apartment, you came prepared for an emergency. Reaching back, you feel the slight bulge of your knife in your jeans. Don’t think about it. Just do it.

You lunge at Nick, pulling your trusty knife out of your pocket, and in one swift motion, pierce his throat in just the right place that makes him drop the gun, gagging. A hundred emotions surge to the forefront of your mind as you feel Nick’s warm blood run over your fingertips. You think of all the times he’s put his hands on you. You think of the cruel words he’s whispered to you. The horrible names he’s called you. And you never want to feel that way again. You never want anyone to experience that from him.

So you yank your knife from Nick’s throat only to plunge it right back in. Repeatedly. Adrenaline takes over and a weird euphoria encapsulates you. Like stabbing the fuck of your abuser is cathartic, watching that evil life leave his eyes by your hands is a thrill. He’ll never hurt you again. And as you dig that knife deep, severing his arteries, you let out a scream.

Tears run down your face, throat raw from screaming and sobbing. But you’ve never felt relief like this. And it’s not until Sam pulls you away that you go quiet, dropping your knife.

Nick sinks to the ground as Sam holds you close. He looks at you, holding your face in his hands with wonderment. Like he can’t believe you actually did that. You saved his life. You killed someone.

Macabre as it may be, he finds it romantic, and can’t stop himself from pressing his lips to yours. Your eyes widen in shock at Sam's kiss. Nick is still gasping beneath your feet, but you ignore the gurgled moans coming from his throat and give in to the sudden butterflies in your stomach.

You kiss Sam back, bewildered that this is something you want. It could be the newfound freedom you’re feeling, or perhaps you’re just so touch starved that Sam’s gentle handling of you is enough to turn you on, but kissing him feels right. It feels good. You crave more.

But before you can ask for it, he pulls away, looking down at Nick’s convulsing form. He grabs your hand, ignoring the other man for now, and you cut through the woods to where Sam hid his car. You get in quickly, hands shaky as they buckle the seatbelt.

Sam drives to the cabin, instructing you to stay in the car. With no arguments on your end, you remain seated as he exits and heads to where Nick’s body is. You stare down at your hands with immense panic. Oh, fuck, what have you done?

There’s no time to analyze. You can’t change what you did. Looking over at the window, you see Sam dragging Nick’s lifeless body towards you. Yep. No fixing that. Sam gives you a weak smile, motioning for you to pop the trunk. And you do. Closing your eyes as you listen to Sam dump Nick’s body inside.

“There,” Sam says triumphantly, stepping back to admire his work. “Hands are done. Just have to clean this beautiful face,” he smiles, gliding his knuckles across your cheek. He’s feeling sweet now. And as sick as it is, it warms your heart.

“What about you?” You frown, pointing to the bandage on his arm and the stains on his shirt. “You should let me change that and find you clean clothes.”

“We can worry about me after I take care of you,” he insists, gently dabbing at the red flecks on your face. He looks at your trembling lip and sighs, leaning in to kiss you softly. You can’t explain the feelings that wash over you, but damn, do you feel safe with Sam. “Thank you for saving my life,” he whispers when he breaks the kiss. “I know you’re freaking out, but I fully believe you made the right choice.”

You have no business believing Sam. He’s completely off his rocker. But the praise you receive feels good. And the more you relax, the more you agree with him. Nick had to go. For the safety of everyone. The good of humanity.

“Am I…” You murmur, shaking your head. “Are we going to be okay?” You ask with concern. “We killed someone, Sam,” you whisper, stomach going sour. “I killed someone. Nick’s family is going to look for him. They’re going to know it’s me!”

“Stop,” Sam prevents you from spiraling out of control. “There’s no evidence, baby,” he assures you. “We’ll deal with the body. I grabbed your knife. No one else was around. No one saw anything. As long as we stick together, we’ll be fine.”

“Are you sure?” You whimper.

“It’s you and me,” he nods. “We’ll keep on moving, okay? I’ve got you. I’m not going to let you get hurt.”

Only a second ticks by and you agree. “Okay,” you say. “Let’s do this.”

Masterlist

Sam Drake Taglist: @julesclues - @tiredbeebo - @bluewingedangel

#sam drake #sam drake x reader #samuel drake #samuel drake x reader #sam drake fanfiction #uncharted fanfiction

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owletwriter · 2 years

Text

Welcome to Hawkins

CHAPTER 5

Summary: Stranger Things and The Upside Down, they're both fictional, right? But what if it wasn't? What if somehow, someone comes across a gate and ends up in not only the 80s...but in Hawkins?

Slow-burn Eddie x Reader / Eddie x OC, Robin x Friendship!Reader

Disclaimer: Don't own the rights to any characters except the ones I created for this story.

Hope you enjoy!

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A dream…a very vivid dream, that's what I think at least as I arise from my deep slumber, until I hear a blaring alarm and open my eyes to a ceiling I'm unfamiliar with. It's at that moment when everything that's happened to me comes flooding back and realize it wasn't a dream at all. I'm split between two emotions, disappointment that I'm not back home in my room…and relief that this is real. I'm unsure of which emotion is stronger, but I don't have time to think about it when I feel Robin leap out of the bed.

"I'm going to wash up first." Robin tells me while putting together an outfit for herself and before leaving to head to the bathroom, she mentions, "You can pick out anything to wear."

I'm then left alone in her room still on the bed while trying to shake off the last bit of sleep. Finally, I'm on my feet and browse options for what I'll be wearing today to blend in more. I let my eyes scan around for options, but I get interrupted when Robin returns.

"Sorry, I should let you use the bathroom first, you’re the guest." She says looking a little apologetic.

"Are you sure? I'm fine waiting." I reply to her, but she shakes her head.

"Nope, I insist. I, as the host, will make sure you, the guest, have the top tier service at Hotel Buckley." She playfully tells me gesturing towards the bathroom with her arms out. I chuckle and decide not to argue after that grand gesture. In the bathroom, I try not to take too long to wash up and once done, we swap out. Back in her room, I continue where I left off looking for something to wear.

Pants were out of the question since my legs are too short and my thighs are a bit too thick to fit Robin's pants comfortably, but that's fine since mine aren't really dirty. That leaves me with deciding on the top portion of my outfit and I come across a white button-up short-sleeved shirt. I tuck it loosely in my jeans to hide they're high-waisted and from the corner of my eye, I spot a navy blazer in her closet. I put it on and roll the sleeves up to my elbows revealing a black and white patterned lining. There's a full-length mirror on the inside of the closet door and I inspect my outfit. My makeup is just my mascara and a coral-tinted lip balm. To finish it off, I decide on leaving my hair out with a side part and put on my two silver rings for my right hand.

Robin returns and pauses to view my outfit, then gives me a thumbs up saying, "Lookin' good!"

"Do I blend in more?" I teasingly ask her.

Pretending to be deep in thought she says, "Hm…nope, I see no trace of the future on you."

"Good." I sigh and bend down to pick up my backpack and ask, "Do you have a spare notebook or two for today?"

Robin's expression shows confusion when I glance over to her and she asks back, "Why do you need them?"

"Uh, for school today. I'm getting the textbooks, but I need something for taking some notes…or doodling at least." I simply state to her, but her face doesn't change.

She shakes her head and questions me, "Wait…you're going back to school?"

I now understand her confusion and explain, "What else am I suppose to do right now? You and Steve are the only people I know and I can pass the time there while waiting until after school when we have to search the place." Robin is finally getting the picture and I add, "Plus, I can help with looking for any potential gates while I'm in the school. It's good to have another pair of eyes to spot for anything that might be weird."

"Alright, alright, you've convinced me." She says understanding me now and continues while grabbing two notebooks from her dresser, "We better head out soon or we'll be late." I take them from her, then leave letting Robin get dressed. Once she's done, we go downstairs to her kitchen to have a quick breakfast. We decide on a bowl of cereal and while munching on it, I ask where her mom is since I expected to see her. She explained that right now she's been leaving early and coming home late recently because she's working on some type of project proposal at her job. After clearing our bowls, putting them in the sink, and slipping on our shoes, we hear a car horn from outside signaling that Steve arrived. Robin and I exit her house, then jog over to his car and enter it driving off.

"Okay so, you guys will keep your eye out for anything that might look like a gate." Steve announces to us as soon as we're on the road.

"Right…and what do these gates look like again?" Robin takes this opportunity to interject with a question.

From the back of the car, I see him look over at her in disbelief exclaiming, "How do you not know what a gate looks like!? You saw one when we were in the Russian hideout! Remember? The big red glowing wall with the laser?"

"I was a little distracted with Russian soldiers chasing us at the time, so sorry if I didn't stop to get a good look at it!" She shouts in defense while checking her makeup in the car mirror. I remain quiet because I don't want to slip up and acknowledge that I know exactly what they're talking about.

Instead, I pretend I'm clueless and simply ask, "What's this about Russians?"

Robin turns towards me and replies, "Don't worry about it now, I'll explain it to you later."

"Just look for any red glowing hole with black vines around it." Steve says exasperated while pulling up to the school. He parks and before we get out he mentions something else, specifically to Robin, "Before I forget, tell Dustin that he needs to meet us after school. That twerp will probably figure out something."

"Got it." She responds while I just nod going along with it. We exit his car and he drives off while the two of use walk towards the entrance of the school. Robin and I only have one class together, History, so after helping me find my locker, we agree to meet here to go to lunch together and then go our separate ways. I make my way over to the office I was in yesterday to pick up the textbooks I'll need. The door is open and Patricia is inside busy, so I knock on the door gently to get her attention.

She lifts her head up from her papers and smiles saying, "Kate, nice to see you again."

"Uh, I'm here to pick up the books I need for class." I tell her while entering the office.

"Ah yes, these are them right here." She remarks and gestures with her hand at a pile of books on the corner of her desk.

I go over and lift them clumsily into my arms while giving my gratitude, "Thanks."

As I turn to leave, Patricia says, "Have a good day." After returning the statement back to her, I exit, head to my locker again to shove the new heavy objects in it except for one, the Pre-Calculus textbook, since that's my first class. The bell rings indicating that the school day is officially starting and after checking the room number on my schedule, I quickly stride over to the classroom. You got this. Ready for your first full day back in high school as a senior…again? I ask myself while trying to shake the jitters. When heading there, I run into Patricia walking the same direction.

She notices me and comments as we come up to the same door, "Looks like your first class is with me." It's only now that I realize she's a teacher and I'm in shock when I read the nameplate on the desk in the classroom, "Ms. O'Donnell." The name sounds familiar, but I don't remember the moment when I heard it in the show. I don't have time to ponder long on it when she catches my attention and gestures for me to stand near her desk saying, "Class, we have a new student for this year." She then turns to me and suggests, "Why don't you introduce yourself?" At this point I would rather jump out the window, but I grin and bear it. Taking a quick gander at the people in this class, I don't recognize anyone, but I still try to rack my brain with who said Ms. O'Donnell's name.

After enough awkward silence, I address the disinterested class, "Uh hi-"

"Whoops, sorry I'm late." A voice says stumbling into the classroom. Everyone turns their head towards the door to see who the tardy person is, but my heart starts racing because I recognize the voice and now remember who said Ms. O'Donnell's name.

"Lucky for you, we haven't started the class yet, Eddie. Please take your seat." Ms. O'Donnell tells him as I dare not look over in his direction. He paces across the classroom passing me and I keep my eyes glued to the floor. When I hear him sit down, Patricia speaks up again, "Okay, now you may introduce yourself." I glance over at the window really considering if I could jump through it safely, but I try taking a deep breath to calm my new nerves.

I can feel his eyes on me and so while keeping my gaze down on the floor I clear my throat to speak, "H-Hi, I'm Kate and I…uh…m-moved here from New York." There were a few whispers now from the class and I look over to Patricia trying to ask her to put me out of my misery. To my relief, she quiets the class down and then assigns me a seat.

That quickly ends when I hear where she's placing me saying, "You may take the seat in the fifth row by the window in front of Eddie." Why me!? I internally scream at myself as I now carefully make my way to the spot. I try my best at just focusing my eyes on the empty chair, but as I reach it, they flutter up to him and my eyes grow wide when they meet his. I swiftly turn around and sit in my chair, open my books, and lean forward on the desk using my hair to try to hide myself while making an effort to pay attention in class.

Twenty minutes pass by and the whole time during the lesson, I barely move just glancing up and down from the board to my notebook writing everything down to distract myself. Why am I being like this? I'm acting so stupid! I berate myself as I scribble more notes. To calm down, I start to doodle in the margins of the notebook since I'm actually pretty good at math and so I don't have to pay too much attention.

However, it comes to a point in the lesson where I need a calculator and I unfortunately don't have one. That's until a lightbulb pops in my head and I rummage in my backpack for my phone. Once I find it, I try to make sure no one can see it as I place it on my desk underneath a piece of paper. The last twenty minutes go by slowly, but eventually the sound of the bell comes signaling the end of class. I take as little time as possible to gather my books, pick up my backpack and dart out of the classroom without looking back. I feel like I can breathe easily once I get to my locker and switch out my textbook for the next classes. The rest goes by pretty swiftly compared to Pre-Calculus for obvious reasons. Once Chemistry finishes, I happily walk over to my locker to meet Robin for lunch.

She's already there leaning against it and once she spots me, immediately asks, "So how's it been?"

"I'll tell you one thing…" I start off saying and then whisper close to her, "…about the future." Her eyes light up in anticipation, but that goes away once I state, "High school hasn't really changed much." She scoffs at the lame fact and I laugh at her reaction as I put books away in my locker. We head to where all the other students are going, the cafeteria. Since the two of us didn't bring food, we grab a lunch tray and get the meal of the day, square pizza. Robin leads us to a table and we sit next to each other eating while I casually view the different clicks in the cafeteria until she elbows me to get my attention.

"There's Dustin, we should go over now and ask him to meet us after school." She tells me while gesturing with her head in the direction of where he's sitting. My eyes follow to where she's looking and see him with Mike Wheeler, but I also notice what group he's sitting with, The Hellfire Club. My eyes drift to the head of their table and of course Eddie's there chatting with his members. My stomach flips and it's not because of the lukewarm pizza.

Robin starts to stand up and I immediately grab her arm to pull her back down saying, "Wait!" She does and I continuing speaking, "He…seems busy right now. We should ask another time."

"Um, Kate, this is the perfect time to let Dustin know." She points out to me a little perplexed by my statement.

"I know, I know…but…" I respond lingering on what excuse I can tell her while glancing over at the metalhead.

Robin squints curious about my demeanor and surveys the table again until it clicks exclaiming, "It's because of Eddie!"

"Shh, shut up! No!" I shout to her in a whisper while frantically looking around to see if anyone heard. Calming down, I face her and say, "I just don't like interrupting people when they're eating."

"Well it seems like they finished eating, so let's go." She muses clearly testing me.

As she starts to stand up again, I pull her down and say, "No!"

Smirking at me she responds with a deal, "Acknowledge that you have a crush on him and we'll go when he leaves." I sigh pondering for a moment, really not wanting to admit it to not only Robin, but myself.

But as Robin lifts herself off from her chair for a third time, I grasp her arm and speak, "Okay, okay, fine." I sigh glancing over to the metalhead and mutter, "…I may have…a little…tiny…crush on him."

"Was that so hard?" Robin asks totally amused and I just glare at her. Ten minutes pass by until we both see the metalhead rise from his chair and head towards the exit of the cafeteria. We glance over at each other, nod, and then bolt up out of our seats to make a beeline for Dustin. He's chatting about something with Mike which looks to be very humorous by the chuckling. That stops when they finally notice us approaching their table. I decide to let Robin do the talking since they have no idea who I am even though I'm familiar with them. "Dustin, hey. Steve asked us…" She says pointing to me and herself, then continues pointing at him, "…to ask you to meet him after school."

Pretty much ignoring her, Mike chimes in directing a question at me, "You're the new girl from New York?" I sigh smiling and nodding as a response. Looks like news travels fast. I can imagine the whole neighborhood will know by tomorrow. I think surprised by the fast game of telephone in this town.

Robin does a quick introduction with fast hand movements, "Kate, this is Dustin and Mike. Dustin, Mike, this is Kate. Great! So now that that is out of the way…" She places her hands on the table leaning towards them and asks again, "…Dustin will you be meeting us after school?"

A bit suspicious, Dustin squints and asks back, "What does Steve need me for?"

"We will divulge that information to you then. So yes or no?" Robin responds with a hint of irritation in her voice. Dustin remains silent mulling it over, but she speaks up again, "Dustin!"

"Alright! Lucky for you, Hellfire Club isn't meeting today." Dustin finally answers giving in to Robin.

She playfully grins satisfied with his response and tells him, "Great, meet us out in front of the school." The bell sounds signaling that lunch is over and the two boys get up, give us one more look with perplexed expressions and walk away.

"Well, that was simple enough." I remark smiling with relief impressed it went that easily and there were no hiccups.

Robin smirks standing up straight, "Yeah, you just need to be a bit firm with them." She flexes her arm earning a laugh from me. I start stepping backwards and before I notice Robin's expression warning me, I bump into someone.

"Oh my-I'm so sorry!" I exclaim turning around to see who it is and I seem to have the worst luck, because it's the exact person I tried to avoid, Eddie.

He chuckles at my flustered state replying, "Second time now. We seem to be developing a habit." I actively try to make an effort to speak, but then he leans forward and I freeze up shutting my eyes. When nothing happens, I open them quickly to see he grabbed something to the left of me on the table. He smirks holding up his handkerchief, "Forgot this." He puts it in his back pocket and I can feel him studying me with his towering stature. "You're new here…Kate, right?"

I clear my throat and utter out, "Y-Yeah." I back up a little while speaking in a shaky voice, "Um, sorry…w-we have to go to class." I glance behind me to Robin witnessing the interaction and grasp her arm. The whole time his face is plastered with a small smile. "Sorry again." I call to him as I drag Robin with me towards the cafeteria exit.

Once down a hallway, I stop leaning against a locker and peer up to Robin's amused, but baffled face exclaiming, "Oh…my god! What the hell was that?" I glare at her, but she's not phased continuing, "You completely turned into a…a…"

I finish her sentence, "…human blob."

"Yes!" She agrees snapping her fingers and then says, "It looked like someone opened up your head, went into your brain and used a fork to scramble it." I groan covering my face with my hands and she quickly tries to reassure me, "Hey, hey! It's fine! From what I could see he seemed to find it…entertaining?" She follows me when I start to shuffle away towards my locker.

As I swap my books out I attempt to express what goes on in my head, "I don't really know what happens to me. I've had crushes before, where I get butterflies, get all smiley and a little nervous. But when it comes to him, my mind goes blank, my heart races and my stomach is doing somersaults."

Leaning on her shoulder listening she nods and says, "Hm, you're like the complete opposite of me. When I have a crush, I just can't shut up for the life of me. No matter how hard I try, I just keep rambling while my brain is shouting at me to stop."

We begin to walk to History class together and inform her, "What's worse is…I have Pre-Calc with Eddie and I sit right in front of him. I hardly moved the whole time except for when I had to grab my phone."

"Wow…I feel kind of lucky about my whole rambling thing." She jokes which makes me lightly elbow her and she then says, "Wait…you took your phone out in class?"

I reassure her, "Don't worry, no one saw it. I had to use the calculator on it."

"It's a calculator too!?" Robin vocalizes a little too loudly and I shush her. When we enter the classroom she adds in a quieter voice, "Anyway, it might be a good thing to have a class with Eddie. You can slowly get used to him."

We take our seat and before class starts I reply with a simple, "I guess."

The class is painfully slow because I'm not the best at history. Maybe the fact that I'm living it now will give me some advantage…somehow. I think at some random point during the lesson spacing out. After History, there was one more class until school lets out. It too drags along at a painfully slow pace and about five minutes before the bell rings, my foot is actively tapping as I stare at the hands on the clock ticking around.

The sound everyone has been anticipating finally comes and we all rush out of the classroom. I make a quick pitstop to my locker to grab what I need for homework and then head outside to where we all agreed to meet. Once I arrive to the front of the school, I spot Steve and Dustin bickering about something by his car walking over to me. We say our greetings and a few minutes later, Robin comes jogging out of the school. Before discussing anything, Steve suggests for us to go into an empty classroom and when we do, the three of us inform Dustin about what's going on including proof of me from the future. This is starting to get old real quick. I think while sighing and putting away the evidence.

"Now that you're all caught up, let's go look around." Steve says to Dustin who's still absorbing what he's just been told.

"So…let me get this straight." He says as the first thing that comes out of his mouth and then continues pointing at me, "She time travelled back to here in the 80s through The Upside Down…and you guys didn't assume that she may in fact be lying and is either possessed like Will or Billy was…or is actually an enemy from The Upside Down?" There's a silence among us all until Steve and Robin burst out talking at the same time trying to stutter out an excuse and I try to talk over them to say I'm not an enemy. Dustin shakes his head and stops us by saying, "Kate's not either of those things by the way. She's fine with light and heat, plus she's not any type of slimy creature." He then lectures the pair in a judging tone, "Honestly, you two should really think about these things more."

"Alright Henderson, enough with your lessons." Steve replies back with obvious annoyance and then addresses all of us, "Let's start searching around the school."

"Actually, we don't have to do that." Dustin chimes in again while digging his pocket for something. He holds up a compass and it clicks for me, but he explains it to the others, "Whenever there's a gate, my compass goes crazy like when there's a huge magnetic pull. Looking at it now, it's behaving like it should and pointing towards true North."

"So…?" Robin asks trying to get him to the point.

"That means there's no gate around here." Dustin concludes appearing proud by his knowledge.

Steve relaxes a bit and says, "Okay, so I guess we're good here."

"Yeah, but what about Kate?" Robin speaks up for me as I nod my head in agreement and they turn to look in my direction.

Dustin steps towards me and in an apologetic tone says, "I'm sorry, Kate. Without a gate, I don't think there's a way for you to go back."

I sit down in one of the chairs and mutter, "What am I going to do now?"

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Likes, Comments, & Reblogs are very much appreciated!

Also I have an Etsy Store with my artwork!

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Taglist!

@edenstarkk @fentyreligion @maicclg @bellegirl16

#eddie munson #eddie x reader #eddie x fem!reader #eddie x oc #eddie munson x oc #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson x reader #steve harrington #robin buckley #stranger things 4 #stranger things #st fic #st4 fic #stranger things fic #stranger things fanfiction #dustin henderson

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consistentsquash · 1 year

Text

10 FIRSTS! The First HOTD Slash Fics on AO3 for 10 M/M Pairings

HOTD Tuesdays! First rec list of 2023!

Selection Criteria - These are the First M/M Slash English fics for 10 HOTD Pairings on AO3.

A big part of what I love about new fandoms is seeing how new pairings start. Wanted to do a rec list to celebrate the new M/M pairings on AO3 during the HOTD show.

AO3 Collection for this list

Rec blurbs below the cut!!!

Daemon/Viserys

Soon the wedding hymn

Posted - 29 August 2022.

Author - eldritcher

Length - 2300 words.

Rating - M.

Blurb - This is probably the first ever show canon slash fic on AO3. It would also go on to be the first fic of the stunning, brilliant Ossuarium series which is essentially the perfect thesis on Targs. Lots of firsts here! A really beautiful dirty/bad/hot/wrong fic with unholy, super messy Targ love.

Vibe Quote

Daemon was not a beggar prince. He had not begged his grandparents, or his parents. He begged his boons only of one man.

Daemon/Otto

Impotence

Posted - 4 September 2022

Author - deaserkan @deaserkan

Length - 1800 words.

Rating - E.

Blurb - deaserkan has some of the best ships out there! This is a dirty/bad/hot/wrong PWP fic. Enemies with benefits! Also art! Really hot art!

Vibe quote

Otto’s unamused expression morphed into a wry smirk. “I presume your brothel trip was unsatisfactory once again?”

Viserys/Otto

A fire untamed

Posted September 20, 2022

Author - becauseitwasreal

Length - 1500 words

Rating - G

Blurb - Otto/Viserys is the template for Alicent/Rhaenyra! I ship it!

Vibe quote

“I am sorry it had to end this way.” Otto turned, his teeth grit. “Do not feign regret, when it was you who made it so.”

Daemon/Corlys

The Art of War

Posted - October 31, 2022

Author - coaldustcanary @coaldustcanary

Length - 500 words

Rating - T

Rec Blurb - War buddies! Brilliant shortfic that packs a big punch! Love their dynamic!

Vibe quote

Daemon surely did have a knack for an entrance. Even after all these years, Corlys could not help but admire him honestly for the space of a held breath, an anticipatory, predatory pause.

Aegon/Aemond

Nightly Curiosity

Posted - September 18, 2022

Author - Katophoenix @katophoenix

Length - 1200 words

Rating - E

Rec blurb - dirty/bad/hot/wrong PWP which is totally perfect!! Love Aemond's creepiness here which works brilliantly in the context of the fic.

Vibe quote

He bent down, to steal the kiss he always did. A silent beginning.

Aegon/Jace

Rumors

Posted - October 2, 2022

Author - RayByAnotherName @raybyanothername

Length - 1600 words

Rating - T

Rec blurb - Really love the outsider Laenor POV we get here. It adds a lot of great character moments for Jace. Also love the dynamic between the characters.

Vibe quote

"Is it any more dangerous than what Mother's done? Or you?" Jace asked it calmly, but it hit Laenor so sharply he might have screamed it.

Note - The A/N talked about two earlier fics tagged with the same pairing. I didn't find them on AO3. But anyway wanted to add that as fyi. Rec lists are best effort.

Luke/Aemond

catch a dragon

Posted - August 26, 2022

Author - Anonymous

Length - 530 words

Rating - Not rated

Rec blurb - Gosh this pairing. I don't even :D This fic has that classic dynamic of spoiled/mini Rhaenyra Luke and really intense, pining Aemond.

Vibe quote

And Aemond stares, enraptured by the brightness of the boy's brown eyes and rosy cheeks that flush from joy as something takes root in his chest.

Rec note - This list is based on show canon. So the list exclude fics which are not tagged with HOTD.

Daemon/Aemond

Mirror

Posted - October 11, 2022 Author - GreyArchives, orphan_account Length - 245 words Rating - G

Rec blurb - Aemond thinking about Daemon. Pining, complicated, intense vibes.

Vibe quote

Aemond does not care for the resemblance he notices in the mirror, nor for the one whispered about in the halls and courtyard, but he does care for the flame that burns behind those eyes.

Jace/Aemond

A Strong Fire

Posted - October 4, 2022

Author - Beserk

Length - 2500 words

Rating - T

Rec blurb - Really beautiful what-if set during the Driftmark funeral episode. I love the dynamic between Jace and Aemond here.

"My father died," Jace whispers, so low that Aemond can barely hear. It is not that he needed to hear it, though. Everyone knows.

Joffrey/Laenor

Riding the (Sea)Horse

Posted - October 5, 2022

Author - Lord_Auster_Tully

Length - 3700 words

Rating - E

Rec blurb - The OG couple!!! <3 Gosh. I really felt for their tragedy. They deserved a lot better :/ This fic takes the beautiful scene we get in the show and adds the missing parts we really wanted :D

Westeros often wasn’t as it was supposed to be. Good things didn’t last. But for that moment, as Laenor eyed the soft white flesh and ginger hair, everything was good.

#hotd fic recs #hotd slash fic recs #the first fics on ao3 for 10 hotd slash pairings #lucemond #lucerys x aemond #jacemond #jacerys x aemond #joffrey x laenor #aegon x aemond #daemon x aemond #daemon x corlys #daemon x viserys #daemon x otto #viserys x otto #fic recs #house of the dragon fic recs #rec lists #recs

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guardianbee · 1 year

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RE: your post about nashuri being compared to re//ylo

you're so correct. i think people get caught up in the whole "quite popular ship about enemies who might have a romantic connection" thing and ignore the fact that the romance in rey//lo is completely fabricated and unsubstantiated while namor and shuri are shown as mirrors of each other since the very beginning and the story cannot go on as it does without the connection between the characters.

kyle doesn't care for rey whatsoever and has no qualms with hurting and torturing her even after he realised they were a force dyad (which was so half assed and obviously only done to fabricate a romance that just wasn't there); on the other hand namor sees himself in shuri since the first meeting and never intended to hurt her, not even after the perceived betrayal of her leaving with nakia. him killing ramonda was a response to ramonda's own actions and a fulfilment of a promise he made to her, he never did it because he intended to hurt shuri and knew that would be the surest way (we know from tenoch's interviews that he never really thought about how shuri would see his actions as an attack to her)

it vexxes me when i see fanfictions about "dark namor" where he acts like an unfeeling asshole who hurts shuri on purpose just because he can and he "breaks" her because that's kyle, not namor. he's a king and a man of his word, his actions against wakanda were a reasonable reaction to them invading his country and killing two handmaidens, and he had warned ramonda what would happen if they did so. his actions might have been morally wrong but not unjustified, and if he didn't stick to his word he would seem a weak leader.

anyway, sorry for the big ask. didn't want to add onto a reblog because people on this app don't know how not to be rude lmao

No worries about the long ask! I like getting asks every now and again, so this was a nice surprise.

Oh my gosh, the part about Ramonda's death being a fulfillment of Namor's promise to her.... I completely forgot about that part of the movie hjsdfgsdh. I only watched the movie once so I'm forgiving myself here, but yeah, this makes total sense! Namor is truly a man of his word - he binds himself to it, for better or worse. Also, I've said this before and N'jadaka confirms it, but ultimately, Ramonda did not have to die - she chose to sacrifice herself for Riri.

And yeah, it also makes sense he wasn't thinking about Shuri in that instance - he was thinking about what was best for his people, how to protect them and keep them safe. He made a tactical decision - by submerging the throne room, he assumed either Riri or Ramonda would die. And hey, if both did, even better. Obviously, that had some unintended consequences since Shuri was devastated by the loss of her mother and wanted vengeance, and Namor is the outlet to lash out both her wrath and the unprocessed grief she still carried for T'challa. That's why the ending of the movie is just... MAN, I cannot wait until February 1 to bawl my eyes out yet again!

Their story is eons different to how Kyle and Reyy interact with one another in the ST. For one, Kyle does not seem to resepct Reyy until the very end of EP9 (I never watched it so I'm just going off the synopsis). Man literally told her she was nothing and came from nothing. Juxtapose that with Namor clearly respecting Shuri as a leader of her nation as well as her intellect and empathy.

Then you just have the differences in character - Kyle is quite literally, until the end of EP9, a fascist that will do whatever it takes to control the galaxy and plunge it into darkness for... really vague reasons like emulating his grandfather? He kills because he wants to, because he likes it, all in a quest for absolute power and control. Meanwhile, Namor is an anti colonialist/anti imperialist who loves his people and will protect them however he can. As an anti hero, that means getting his hands dirty and killing those he sees as a threat to his people's safety, whether they were good people or not, whether they deserved it or not (the contrast between him killing US soldiers plundering his ocean for vibranium vs Ramonda and possibly tens of hundreds of Wakandan citizens). While they both kill, their motivations are fundamentally different and incompatible. Namor would see Kyle for what he is - another white man thinking of only his desires, trying to take what is not his and subjecting communities to unspeakable violence and misery.

Then you got Shuri and Reyy. Both are motivated by love and grief, but in different ways. Shuri is motivated by the deep love she has for her family and her people. Reyy, however, is motivated by the absence of love - she wants love, she wants community. She grieves what she's never had. That's why the scene between her and Finn before Kyle finds them in TFA is so memorable to me. She thought she found someone who could be hers, who could be a part of her community, and Finn seemingly walks away from it. Contrast that with Shuri, who is grieving what she's lost, who is slowly hardening herself to these losses, who is allowing the grief to control her, to slowly consume her, until it might be too late. Shuri and Reyy are fundamentally different characters that tell two different stories about the human experience and its eternal quest to be loved and find purpose within that love.

In fact, the ST and BPWF tell two incredibly, fundamentally different stories. And sorry not sorry, but BPWF is just more impactful, more insightful, and more in-tune with the human experience and nature than the ST ever could be. While BPWF is about grief and honoring loved ones, it's also about rejecting the ideals and methods of a white patriarchal society, about communities of color building and healing and joining forces to combat the erosion of their cultures, their resources, and their rights. It's why Namor and Shuri have an honest albeit complicated connection, while Kyle and Reyy have hastily shoved in forced conversations to get them to a place where it's possible (but definitely not probable) that they can be allies and more.

Now, about dark!namor... I haven't read any fics like that and I'm not going to if I can help it, but that shows a writer's lack of skills in writing complex characters. They're most likely projecting and just place Namor in that "bad boy" cookie cutter mold because that's what they've known and read all their life. This is similar to when I read zutara fics as a kid - there were a lot of people who just could not write Zuko without turning him into a bad boy, obsessed with Katara, and cornering her until she fell in love with him. A lot of complex anti-heroes/villains can easily get watered down in fanfics, especially by people who don't care so much for the characters but rather the tropes they seemingly represent. I like Namor and Shuri both as individuals and as a ship, so shoving them into tropes and situations they canonically would not subject themselves to (unless it's a straight up crackfic) is a no-go for me.

You can make Namor darker, a little more unhinged without going against the character's very nature. He doesn't hurt people just to hurt them - if he did, I doubt his people would love him so unabashedly, or there would be some active resistance against him and his leadership. At the end of the day, people can write whatever they want to write and ship whatever they want to ship and consume whatever they want to consume, but if they write Namor as an abuser (which is problematic for a whole host of reasons other than he would canonically never do that) and Shuri as some hapless victim who will fall in love with him anyway, they are doing a disservice to the characters and are perpetuating the violent ideals BPWF blatantly emphasizes we need to dismantle.

#i made my answer wayyy longer than your ask don't feel too bad now ksjdfhjkhsdf #namuri #anti reylo #seaprincess #naylor #asks on the run #wow who knew I could still analyze media in a meaningful way?#not me that's for damn sure #anyway kyle ain't shit he's never gonna be shit and namor would punch him in the face given the chance

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heich0e · 1 year

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happy new years liv! i have writing question:

when i write, i tend to be very action heavy with my wording.

for example ‘he put on his clothes and then she called his phone. then they went on a date…’ etc etc etc. how can i break up the action and add character to the story with descriptors, specifically for action, dialogue, and explaining feelings of the characters without over using adverbs and metaphors and stuff like that 😭😭😭 writing is so freaking hard man

AHHHHHHHHHHHH i feel like i am the worst person to ask this because i am also HUGELY guilty of these writing sins.

Here's where my brain immediately goes.

He puts on his clothes

I'd add more description here. What's he wearing? What are the textures? How does it smell? Is he pulling them on quickly or is he taking his time? Let's say for the sake of this example he's in a rush to get ready for this date.

...and then she called.

There's a way that you can introduce this action as a description rather than a statement. Like "his phone rang" "he was interrupted by the ringtone of his cellphone" "the harsh ringing of his telephone signalled she was calling" there are a million ways that you could accomplish the same thing without it feeling quite so bluntly expository.

And then they went on the date.

Just like the example above, I feel like there are softer ways you can accomplish the same explanation. You could do it as simply as being like "he had been looking forward to this date for weeks" or even "he'd been dreading it".

So the original example could end up being something like:

There's a pair of jeans hanging out of the corner of his laundry basket. They aren't quite dirty but certainly aren't clean, but they're his favourite pair—his lucky pair—so he tugs them out and hopes the creases in the denim aren't too noticeable. There's not much time to consider anything else, thanks to his haste; a simple shirt (this one freshly laundered) and a jacket overtop. He contemplates his appearance in the mirror affixed to the wall when his cell phone begins to ring, and even without checking he knows it's her.

He's been looking forward to this date for weeks, and now it's finally here. A sharp intake of breath to bolster his confidence, once last look in the mirror, and then it's time to go.

I can't say for sure whether this is any better. Can't even guarantee that it avoids the issues that you were worried about. In my experience, don't worry about falling into those traps that you're concerned about: it's always better to write a bit too much (use too many adverbs, metaphors, etc) and then go back and edit down. It's easier to cut something than it is to add after the fact, if that makes any sense!!

I'm not sure if this was helpful at all, I'm sorry!!

#liv got mail

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kitty-m3ow · 7 months

Text

Halloween, my favorite holiday and it just so happens to be super foggy where I live so I decided to add more to the nadja au I made since I haven't posted anything on it so I'm just going to barf the ideas I've been having this past week

The Abandoned Mall

This one would be entirely nadja centric I had this idea well listening to music and thought it would be interesting if nadja bashed the head in of whatever was left of the paranormal thing that was after her(I'm sorry if it seems ooc I'm only on episode 12)but for more of an explanation nadja and Francis decided to go a different route to get to the convince store that Funahashi works at then what they usually go to because that path was blocked off due to an accident.

Francis was looking at a GPS on his phone(Funahashi gave him one of his old phones hikari and yami helped him figure it out but not with out calling him an old man and laughing for a bit) they where entering this mall full of people and was super huge, the gps said it would be a short cut so they toke it but for some reason it was being really laggy and wasn't working properly and keep looping them around the place and eventually nadja got tired and decided to sit somewhere, Francis decided to ditch the phone and go look for a map of the mall, since there was a lot of people there he thought it would be alright since the more people the less paranormal they wouldn't try and attack them in broad daylight... Right?

Francis went off as Nadja sat at an area to rest and slowly started to get sleepy she tried to stay awake cuz there was no way she was going to fall asleep at a mall but her eyelids got heavier and heavier tell she finally gave in.

She wasn't sure how many hours have past but when she opened her eyes what once a mall bright with daylight and full of people was now some dark, abandoned, dirty looking mall and as any person would, she is panicking very hard right now, Francis is no where to be seen she isn't even sure she's in the right place, nadja moved her hand to her broach-....

Her broach... Its gone and now her anxiety has reached unmeasurable levels and pretty much feels like she's about to through up all her insides but eventually is some how able to pull her shit together a little it's hanging by a string but it's something and she well get her broach back, suddenly she hears a giggle behind her she turns around and sees a face peeking from the corner looking at her in amusement and she just knew it definitely has her broach and it just disappears and the hunt begins.

If you're wondering where Francis is during this having a very severe panic attack in a bathroom and at some point possible communicating with nadja through bathroom mirrors but that's going to end all for now I apologize again is she's to ooc like I said not that far in the anime but I hope it's at least close to her character

#ashita no nadja #francis harcourt #horror au

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heartsmadeofbooks · 1 year

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If you have any time and want to do this, it’ll be fun to hear!

Hi Jen. Sorry it took so long to reply to this, I've been busy.

This looks like fun and also incredibly challenging, because there are many lines that renosate with me when it comes to both Kurt and Blaine (can't choose one, won't choose one, they're both my favorite). But I'll give it a shot.

KURT:

“When you’re different, when you’re special, sometimes you have to get used to being alone” I think it sort of explains some of the issues Kurt had later on, being a bit closed off and not being able to let his guard down, not even around Blaine, which probably resulted in the season 6 break up. He's so used to dealing with everything by himself, of being different, misunderstood, that he sometimes forgets he has someone to lean on, someone who understands.

“Hit me, because it’s not going to change who I am. You can’t punch the gay out of me anymore than I can punch the ignoramus out of you!” This line speaks of his bravery, and how proud he is of being who he is. That's one thing that never changed after he came out and finally was comfortable in his own skin.

“You know when you stop to think about it, Kurt Hummel’s had a pretty good year.” This is a guy who in the past year went through his father having a heart attack and almost dying, being hate-kissed by his biggest bully, threatened to be killed, made to leave his school and his friends, had to watch the guy he was in love with making out with one of his best friends and crush on someone who wasn't him, elected prom queen by a bunch of homophobic assholes and made fun out of in front of the entire school, and just lost a big competition. But he says that. And I think it makes him one of the most interesting and wonderful characters on television.

And I just realized I chose all season 2 lines, but the truth is it was a great season for Kurt. A few other lines that I think are amazing and inspiring when it comes to writing him are: "I realized that trust is a choice and I choose to trust and to love you through everything" "Why can't I walk hand in hand down the hall with a person that I like? Why can't I slow dance at my prom?" "If there's one thing I've learned from Finn dying it's that shame is a wasted emotion." "They can't touch me, they can't touch us, or what we have."

And like a million more, this got long, I'm sorry.

BLAINE:

My favorite thing about Blaine is how vulnerable he can be, and how Darren played that to perfection (probably why I love Blangst so much).

"I ran, Kurt. I didn't stand up. I let bullies chase me away, and it is something that I really, really regret." I think about this quote a lot when I write about Blaine, because it means he never learnt (or until that point, at least) to actually deal with his problems, to face them, because he found that running away was a better and easier choice for him, but you can see how much he hates that (when he says he's pissed off about what happened to him, you can truly see it and hear it in his voice, how he hates himself for it).

"Do you think my dad built a car with me because he loves cars? I think he did it because he thought getting my hands dirty might make me straight." This is one of my favorite scenes, not only because it gives us Burt/Blaine time, which is one of my favorite things in the show, but because it's one of the very few glimpses into Blaine's home life. I love me some daddy issues for Blaine. (Walter Anderson, anyone? God, that asshole. I still hate him and I created him).

"You did win. So did I. We got each other out of all this. That beats a lousy trophy, don't you think?" It's a perfect mirror to Kurt's "Kurt Hummel's had a pretty good year" line. They're both so brave and optimistic and wonderful. I love them.

And I once again chose all season 2 quotes (it was such a great season), but I also really love Blaine's proposal speech, which truly explains how important his relationship with Kurt is and yet it's too long to add here now, and when he told Finn about being bullied and starting to box (and later starting Dalton's brand of Fight Club). I also love the emotion in his voice when in 3x05 Kurt tells him he was proud to be with him and Blaine says (I hope so, I want you to be). I think these are all great lines to focus on while building Blaine's character in a fic. Or in general, really.

I'm probably forgetting a few, but there are just to many amazing Kurt/Blaine quotes.

Sigh. I love them.

#1908jmd

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kechiwrites · 3 years

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katsuki, izuku, and shouto as types of doting dads

🌿 gender neutral!reader

🌿 sfw drabbles, lots of domestic fluff under the cut,

🌿 warning: bakugo swearing, of course

🌿 w.c: 1.2k (approx. 400 each)

🌿 a/n: thank u to my angel @mindninjax for naming katsu’s tiktok. sorry about the formatting, tumblr hates me.

katsuki

Bakugo’s kids are not spoiled, fuck you for even insinuating it.

Bakugo’s kids get what they need.

And what they need is a four tier bento box, every school day.

Insulated, of course, because “they aren’t fucking animals.”

And what starts as Bakugo just being a very attentive father, grows into you recording him coming home from his early morning run and grumbling while he puts on the frilly, lemon yellow apron your kids got him for Christmas two years ago, which grows into him carefully arranging a camera setup over your kitchen countertops, “because you’re the shittiest director alive, dumbass.” Which leads to the tiktok account dine-amight, where Bakugo uploads his intermediate-level character bentos, full to bursting with perfectly seasoned rice balls shaped like All Might and Hello Kitty, star and moon shaped fruits and veggies and occasionally, when your kids beg for them, Bakugo’s famous rainbow mini pancakes.

And of course a pro-hero with a reputation like Bakugo doing anything domestic is worth coverage and acclaim, blowing the account’s followers into the hundreds of thousands in a week.

In fact, people are shocked that Bakugo can even find the time. But he’d do anything for your kids, do anything to see them bring home empty bentos, bragging about all the kids drooling over their lunches that day. Anything to watch their missing tooth smiles when he asks how they were.

And if that means a couple of extra grocery trips at the end of the week and really early morning runs and gentle kisses on your forehead while you mutter and shift in your sleep before he starts the rice cooker, then so be it.

“Katsuki, they are not going to eat caviar. They do not need caviar.” Honestly, you were less surprised he was dropping it in the cart and more surprised your local supermarket even carried it in the first place.

“They’ll eat whatever the fuck I give them.” He bites, pushing the cart just shy of too fast through the aisle, head swivelling back and forth for god knows what else. An elderly woman casts your husband a dirty look as he just barely swings the metal buggy to avoid her, to which Katsuki helpfully spits “Keep it movin’, hag!”

“They’re 10!”

“Doesn’t mean they need to choke down dry ass chicken nuggets and grape juice all day.”

izuku

Birthday party dad, the absolute worst party dad. Thousands of dollars on his kids’ birthday parties. Princess parties, pirate parties, any theme your kids can gurgle about liking and Deku has pulled out his tablet and is putting a pinterest board together before you can remind him that the twins’ birthday was two months ago.

“We can get an early start on next year. What’ll you think it’ll cost to turn the pool into an ice rink?”

“My sanity.”

“Don’t be dramatic.”

Gets almost ridiculously bitter when the family across the street throws an All Might themed party when he knows, he fucking knows, they overheard him talking about throwing one for the boys months ago, But he is not changing his plan. Naw naw naw, your kids are gonna get their All Might party, they’re getting the All Might Party. Every single attendee is getting a vintage, tin All Might lunchbox stuffed to bursting with All Might merch; toys, branded candy only released in Sweden, keychains, those little retro bubble charms, anything he can cram in there. The yellow, red and blue bouncy castle he rented rivals the size of your house. And then, because there is not a soul on the planet pettier than your husband, he forces every pro hero he’s ever known to get in costume and take photos with the kids. He makes the one with the twins your yearly christmas card, then hand delivers it to the family across the street.

In October.

You bake apology pies for weeks.

“You know this is ridiculous right? Deku, she’s 2” you stress the number, pinching the bridge of your nose. “She isn't going to remember any of this.”

“I'm not listening, I didn't hear that, I am busy putting little princesses on cupcakes, a task you said you would help me with.” He’s grinning when he turns to you, and when you hold out your hand, he places a piping bag full of baby pink frosting in your open palm.

Together you hunch over the kitchen island to ice and decorate twenty-four strawberry vanilla cupcakes, nudging and snickering at each other’s lopsided princess figures until the two of you are smearing icing on skin and tossing edible glitter into hair.

shouto

You know those “girl dads”? That’s Shouto. He takes her everywhere, takes pictures of everything that little girl does. School plays, holidays, playdates, you name it and there’s a dedicated, timestamped album that Shouto is begging to show every visitor, mailman and coworker.

He prints them out, and maintains an instagram account filled with his favourite daddy-daughter moments, updated. daily.

Nevermind that he hasn’t used his own personal account in 9 years.

His favourite thing is buying and wearing matching outfits, carrying her in one arm. “Yes, I know she can walk, she’s very talented, she can do anything. She just likes to be as tall as daddy is.”

Whenever he picks her up from school, your husband slides her sweet little coat on and gently secures her into her car seat, right where he can see her when he looks in the rearview mirror. Then, Shouto drives your daughter wherever she wants to go.

Wherever.

If it’s the zoo, they’re going, and they’re coming back with a gigantic, stuffed red panda to add to her own (not so little) plushie zoo at home. If it’s Starbucks, she comes toddling through the front door holding a VENTI, frozen hot chocolate frappuccino (no coffee, of course) and a brownie. Shouto asks them to make it special, he would never let her handle anything too hot.

“Shouto, stop. You’re gonna rot her teeth, she can’t even finish that.” Which is totally true, the cup’s as big as your daughter’s head. Not that she seems to mind, the way she hefts it up for you to see from the entryway while Shouto undoes her glittery blue shoelaces.

“I’ll finish the rest.” He shrugs, picking her up and plopping her down on the living room couch next to you, pressing a light kiss to the top of your head before shuffling off to hang up their identical winter coats.

He doesn’t even like chocolate.

“Why would she need a iPad?” You grab Shouto by his shoulders and make him look at you.

“For…school.” His voice is quiet and subdued and you almost feel bad...before you remember your husband is clutching an $800 tablet he intends to give your 6 year old kid to his chest in the middle of an electronics store.

“Baby...she’s in elementary school…They aren’t even using calculators yet.” You try to pry the package out of his grip, steadfastly ignoring the gentle downturn of Shouto’s mouth at the development.

“She’s very advanced for her age.” The frown is a full on pout by now and you shut it down as quick as you can.

“No. Uh uh. Put that bottom lip back in. Then put the tablet back.”

It’s wrapped in shiny purple paper by December 19th.

🌿 join my taglist here 🌿

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fndmsrndmyfckinglfe · 2 years

Text

The Eyes Are Not the Windows to the Soul They Are the Doors CH.1

Maxim Horvath x Soulmate!Reader

Summary: In a world in which magic users are granted a soulmate and are gifted with the color of their soulmates’ eye on their twentieth birthday.

Warnings: A general overall story warning is that this is obviously not going to be script accurate. I may pull a few lines from it here or there but I want to bring some of my own originality to the characters and the storyline. Honestly, this is going to be a multi-chapter story so warnings will be on a chapter by chapter basis. If there are any that I miss that you happen to catch please let me know and I will add a warning accordingly. :)

Chapter Word Count: 1129

Total Word Count (so far): 1129

A/N: All grammatical and spelling errors are my own. Inspiration has finally struck! I have been OBSESSIVELY reading any kind of fics related to Alfred Molina and I have been HEAVILY inspired by @chrism02 to write this. Their AO3 user is @/ares89 and I highly recommend that everyone go read all of their works. Another thing is that chapter updates may be kind of slow. I am a wife and mom and so the only time I have to write uninterrupted is at night when everyone is asleep. The needs of my kids and husband will always come first before anything. That being said I am determined to see this through, so please just be as patient with me as you can and I will try to upload chapters and do progress updates as often as I can. Any and all updates that I post on here will be under the hashtag #TEANTW. If you’d like to be added to the taglist for this story and any progress updates related to this story just send me a message either directly or to my inbox! :) (I will also be posting this to AO3 when I figure out how to do that and when I figure it out I will post a link to my AO3.)

Read it on Ao3 here: The Eyes Are Not the Windows to the Soul They Are the Doors - Chapter 1 - SigridRennirsdottir - Sorcerer's Apprentice (2010) [Archive of Our Own]

WARNINGS: nightmares, mentions of fire, embarrassment, swearing, Dave being a very awkward mess, light teasing?, fucking science class lmao, mentions of a shitty manager at work, mentions of specialists (therapists, psychiatrists type vibe), (I don’t know if any of this counts as warnings/triggers but better safe than sorry right?) not a lot of Maxim in this chapter but he's coming soon I swear

CHAPTER 1:

You felt sweat collecting behind your neck and on your forehead as you watched the interior of Arcana Cabana burst into flames, the two elder sorcerer’s battling for the doll that you clutched in your small hands. You see the wall of fire separate you and Horvath from Balthazar feeling tidal waves of fear as the elegantly dressed man turns to face you. Everything is muted, you see the words tumbling from his lips but are frozen in your spot as a burning finger comes into your field of vision. Hands outstretched, coming to get you- no to hurt you. A dark grimace painting his face as he lunges at you just about to-

You jolt awake, the familiar feeling of sweat covering your body making you feel dirty and sticky. The same dream that has plagued you since that fateful day fresh in your mind. You had the same dream every year on the anniversary of the worst day of your life. Which also happened to be your birthday. Regardless of what the countess specialists had said, you couldn’t shake the feeling that everything you had experienced had been real. Peeling the covers off of your body, you pad over to your dresser, opening the drawer and pulling out the dragon ring that you had been given from Balthazar. The ring somehow still fit after all these years which was a miracle. You throw the ring back into your drawer, shutting it and hopefully shutting the dreams out for the remainder of the day. Grabbing a towel and clothes you make your way into the bathroom that you shared with your roommate. You start to get ready for your shower and let out a yelp of surprise when you catch a glimpse of yourself in the mirror. In true ‘worst day ever’ fashion the eyes that stare back at you are not your own. Well one eye is yours but the other is completely different. A deep chocolate iris, so deep it’s almost black, stares back at you. You had never heard of someone’s eye color changing spontaneously without colored contacts, a product that you didn’t even own. Checking the time you curse under your breath as you realize you’ll be late to Dave’s presentation if you don’t leave soon but you make a mental note to stop by an urgent care on your way back home.

You stick the last piece of your granola bar into your mouth as you head into the lecture hall. You were sitting in on a presentation that was going to be given by David Stutler. He had been the only person to truly believe that everything that had happened was real. He had been the only friend that you had after the incident. He had grown into an awkward college nerd. He had always been a smart kid and it was obvious now. Even though you didn’t even major in anything related to his presentation, you and he had promised to support one another when good things happened to the other. He would come to your choir concerts and you would come to his science fair conventions, albeit hiding in the back most of the time considering your reputation, As you open the door you watch as the gust of air caused by the door causes his pages of notes to scatter all over the floor, some even flying into the seating area. You rush to grab the papers that have blown behind him, as you observe him fumbling to grab the ones that had been blown by a blonde sitting near the front row. It was Becky from grade school. She had always been a nice girl but she had always been popular. How could she not? You stared as he awkwardly reminisced with her and couldn’t help but feel bad for him. When he decided to stay friends with you, he had been outcasted by pretty much everyone just like you had. Snapping back into the moment you hand Dave the notes that you had collected from the floor.

“Is that Becky Barnes from fourth grade?” You asked, already knowing the answer.

“Yeah! I can’t believe she goes here and she’s actually in this class.” Dave exclaimed in a hushed tone, still looking in Becky’s direction and whipping his head toward you when she sends him an awkward but friendly wave.

“Must be a funky coincidence. Now you can finally finish what you started in grade school and ask her out.” You tease, laughing as Dave’s face turns beet red.

“No- Well- I-..” He stutters out embarrassed at your words. He takes in your appearance and you see his eyes widen when he finally sees your own. “Woah dude what’s up with your fucking eye?” He questions, almost fascinated at the sudden change.

“I have no idea but Dave, I’m teasing you. You can ask her out in your own time,” You start making your way to the back row, “But it better happen before I turn into an old lady!” You call over your shoulder laughing again as he gives you a deathly glare.

You pull your laptop out from your bag and pretend to be listening to Dave’s presentation. It makes you feel a bit guilty that you aren’t actually paying attention but it’s not like you would really understand anything that he’s talking about anyway. Science wasn’t exactly your strong suit. You instead spend your time doing research on eyes spontaneously changing color but frowned when your search garnered no results aside from optometrists that offer procedures to change your eye color. It’s only when students start filtering out of the door that you realize that you spent the last hour and a half clicking through Google search pages. Shutting the laptop and shoving it back into your bag, you stand and make your way back down to Dave and help him gather his notes up (again) and start grabbing his equipment from the presentation.

You and Dave chat as you help him bring his stuff back to his secret lab. You were probably one of the only other humans to be allowed into Dave’s sacred laboratory space. This was his safe space and you understood why he was very picky about who entered the space. You helped him put everything back in its designated spot and bid him goodbye since you needed to get to work.

You walked into the room and were immediately hit in the face by the smell of bitter coffee.

“Great,” You thought to yourself, “Mandy’s working today.” You rolled your eyes as you heard Mandy’s grating voice berating whoever else was working this shift today. Pinning your name badge to your apron, you prepare for the long shift ahead of you.

#my sweet alfredo #alfred molina #alfred molina pls hit me with a truck #maxim horvussy #maxim horvath #maxim horvath x reader #TEANTW #alfred molina x reader #the sorcerer's apprentice #dave is so cute and awkward #lmaoo

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dangerous-mess · 3 years

Text

Holiday Troubles

Characters: Aizawa, trans male reader

Contains: Unsupportive family, transphobia, homophobia, misgendering, mentions of a deadname (D/N), mentions of religion and praying, mentions of dysphoria, angst, hurt/comfort, angst with fluff ending. This was written mainly as a comfort fic during the winter holidays but wanted to post this here (originally posted on AO3). Please read with caution as this content may be triggering for some

Word Count: 2K+

The holidays were always rough for you, being not only gay but transgender as well. There were the off-putting tension and feelings every time you walked in the room, and the side glances and judgemental glares that were shot your way if you were even caught wearing something feminine and not masculine. Mostly from your parents and family, feeling the obligation that you had to follow gender norms in the hope to not only pass but to be taken seriously in your own identity.

The holidays got a little easier once you married your now husband. He made visiting your family a bit easier and made the holidays in general, more enjoyable for you. This year, unfortunately, he had meetings and a nightly patrol that he couldn’t get out of, so you were left to go to the Christmas family gathering by yourself.

The day came, and needless to say, you were a nervous mess. You dressed up in a suit, something masculine of course to appease your family and keep those comments at bay. Though, you knew you weren’t in the clear as there was still a high chance of being deadnamed and misgendered by family who were unsupportive or others who just didn’t try. Your husband, Shouta, let you know before he left early that morning that if you needed anything at all to give him or Hizashi a call and they would come and get you in a heartbeat. He said Hizashi, just in case he couldn’t be reached, which was fine with you, Hizashi had become a close friend to you.

You arrived at your parent's house a little later than they asked, just cause you were nervous and needed more time to prepare for this evening. You knocked on the front door, adjusting your suit as you waited for someone to open the door, only to be greeted by one of your younger siblings. They gave you a big hug, before dragging you inside where you were greeted by family. Your grandmother was the first to deadname you. She called out as you talked to your uncle, a devious smile on her face as the name rolled off her tongue. You cringed hearing it and so badly wanted to correct her, but if your mother caught wind that you did, who knows what drama may pursue. You endured the conversation with her, as she made sure to drop in your deadname every chance she could get.

“Honestly D/N, you really should stop playing dress up and realize that you are a girl. Your husband would be so much happier to have a wife who knows her place and not some confused girl.”

You took a deep breath and bid your goodbyes to your grandmother as you went to find someone else to talk to. Eventually, dinner was called, and you all gathered around and your grandfather said a prayer. You looked down at your feet the entire time, not really wanting to participate in the prayer. Soon it wrapped up and a line formed into the kitchen to get food. After everyone got food, everyone gathered around and talked, telling stories of things that happened within the past year in their lives, as well as asking questions to others to get the latest scoop. You just decided to eat silently, trying to not participate in the gossip fest happening before you.

“So Y/N, how are you and your husband doing?” Your dad asked before he took a sip of a beer. You held up your pointer finger, signaling that you needed a moment as your finished chewing food before you smiled and spoke.

“Oh, we are doing well! He sends his deepest apologies that he couldn’t make it, hero duties called.” You smiled, taking a quick glance around the room. Some whispers were exchanged, knowing it was about you and Shouta. It was clear that besides your family not supporting your identity, they also did not support your marriage to a hero. Especially a hero who was supportive of you and your identity.

“Honestly, how she manages to keep such a hero man, is insane. Like who would wanna marry some confused lesbian?” One of your aunts spoke out. You gripped your glass tightly, biting your tongue, not wanting to start any issues.

Other family members chimed in to add on to your aunt's comment and soon it became too much. You quickly excused yourself and went to the bathroom farthest away from your family. You pulled out your phone and texted your husband. You told him that you needed him or Hizashi or someone to come to pick you up, as you originally walked, as it was nice earlier prior to the sun setting. You quickly got a reply, saying your husband was on his way, and that he was getting someone to cover the rest of his patrol. You felt a bit bad to interrupt and have him leave his patrol, but god you just needed him right now more than anything.

You hid amongst the rooms as you waited for Shouta to send you a message or signal that he was here. Your mom called out your name, walking down the hall looking for you. The smile on her face dropped as she saw you and grabbed your arm.

“Come on Y/N, we are about to exchange gifts. Stop trying to hide and be nice and spend time with your family. It took a lot of work and effort to get everyone here, like your grandparents who haven’t seen you in ages.” Your mom aggressively whispered at you, as she pulled you towards the living room. You stayed silently, hoping that your husband would be here soon.

Your mom let you go and pointed to a chair near the tree. You sat down and were handed some gifts. You slowly opened them, trying not to draw attention to yourself. The first gift was in a gift bag, and opening it exposed a colorful piece of clothing. You pulled it out and it was a sundress. Although you didn’t mind breaking gender norms, dresses were never your thing, they held too many bad memories and made you dysphoric. You frowned, not having the energy to fake a smile. You felt your mind start to spiral before a voice pulled you out.

“Oh, D/N do you not like it. I made sure to even get the right size and everything. I thought you could put that on and surprise your husband when you go home. Imagine how he would react to see his wife, finally coming to terms with herself.” Your grandmother called out, staring at you the entire time. You went to open your mouth when another voice spoke up.

“Actually, I think my husband looks handsome and perfect just the way he is in the suit he is wearing, but thank you. Maybe we can save the dress and give it to one of my students, I know one of them would get much better use of it.” Shouta’s voice boomed out, making a hush fall across the room. You never heard the front door open, but then again Shouta was very good at staying silent. You looked at your husband, feeling all your emotions and feelings starting to rise to the surface. You caught a dirty look your mother gave you as you stood up and made your way over to Shouta.

He held out his hand as you got closer and held it tightly, quickly bidding goodbye for you both as he quickly led you outside to the car that was waiting outside and still running. “I had Hizashi drive me over, hope that’s okay.” You just nodded at him, not letting go of his hand until you got into the car. As soon as you and Shouta were in the car, Hizashi sped off.

“Heya listener, how did it go?” Hizashi asked out, peeking into the mirror looking back at you.

“I lasted longer than last year, so that’s a new record at least.” You joked, trying not to cry. At least not now, you had to make it until you were home and in bed, with your husband holding you close.

Hizashi talked most of the ride home, while Shouta kept glancing back at you. You tried to listen to what was being said, but you couldn’t focus, so you just looked out the window, slightly dozing off. You woke up to the feeling of being carried, your eyes adjusted as you saw Shouta was carrying you into the house and to the bedroom. On any other occasion, if he was carrying you like this you were bound to tease or crack a joke or something, but in this moment you just stayed in his arms, gripping onto him tightly. Once you both got to the bedroom, he helped you undress and slip on something comfy. After he finished helping you, he quickly changed and climbed into bed, pulling you close to him and holding you tightly.

For a while, you just laid there in his arms, fighting back the urge to scream and cry. Though, after he comforted you and let you know it was okay to be upset and that you could let it all out. In which you did, you sobbed in his chest for what felt like hours. You screamed and sobbed and let out all the feelings you bottled up for the few hours you were at the family gathering. Eventually, you ran out of tears to cry and were only left with your own thoughts. You were overthinking, mostly dwelling on the words your family spoke out to you this evening, and couldn’t help but question if it was true.

“Sho...I’ve got to ask you something, kind of important.” You gently pushed away and sat up in the bed, looking at him. He stared at you, and nodded, letting you know it was okay to continue on. You took a deep breath and went for it, “Am I enough for you? I brought a lot of baggage and trouble into our relationship and I know it can’t be easy for you dating me, specifically with the backlash and comments that get made by my family and others about me transitioning and just. If you were with anyone else, I feel like you won’t get all this drama and I’m sorry I’ve brought so much of it onto you Shouta.”

You watched as his facial expression changed and you quickly looked away, finding interest in anything that wasn’t his face, afraid of what his reaction not only meant but the words that were about to follow. “Y/N, please look at me.” You slowly looked up and he placed a hand on your cheek. “I love you Y/N. I love you for you, you are my husband and I won’t want anyone else besides me. You are more than enough for me. And we both have a lot of baggage but that doesn’t change my feelings for you, we can work through it all together. I meant what I said in my vows and at our wedding and I still stand by it. Forever and always.”

You fiddled with your fingers before speaking up, “I love you Shouta so much, I’m just afraid one day I won’t be enough, cause as silly as it is, I don’t feel masculine or manly enough, that you’ll find more of a ‘real’ man one day and just leave me behind.” Tears filled your eyes and you looked down, just wanting to hide under the blankets.

“Y/N Aizawa, you are absolutely masculine and manly enough. I will never find anyone else or more a man than you. You are all I want, and all I need. I love you so much, don’t ever doubt my love for you, cause it is never-ending sweetheart.” Shouta spoke out, lifting your head up and placing a small kiss on your forehead before pulling you into his arms, holding you close. You just stayed there close, as Shouta whispered sweet nothings into your ear as you drifted off to sleep.

Shouta always made the holidays more bearable, but he also made life in general easier. He made waking up a little easier and helped with your hectic thoughts to calm you down. He truly was the love of your life and the best you could ever ask for. You couldn’t have gotten any luckier to have a husband as sweet and perfect as you. He may not be the number one hero to the rest of the world, but in your eyes and his heart, he was, he was your number one hero.

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rkived · 4 years

Text

year 22 (m) — jjk

‘‘I knew you’d be standing in my front porch light, and I knew you’d come back to me.’‘

Pairing: childhoodfriend!jk x f!reader

Genre/Tags: angst!!!, drama, a lil fluff, f2l, e2l-ish, pining, slow burn, smut

Rating: M +18

WC: 11.5k

Warnings: time jumps, underage drinking, jk being a douchebag for most of the fic, reader can’t catch a mf break, mention of character death ((no major one tho)). smut in the form of oral (f. receiving), fingering, nipple play, unprotected sex ((wrap it b4 u tap it y’all)), my being called pretty kink making a brief appearance soz

A/N: i listened to cardigan for the first time n had it on replay the whole time i wrote this so ig u should do it too ! this is my first time posting smut on here but who would i be if i didn’t throw in some good angst ? also tysm to @periminkle for being my unofficial beta reader n checking it up for me, she knows i’m constantly looking for her validation n i def wouldn’t post this if she didn’t love it ilu vira thx for being the best ever mwah !!!

You’re five, cowering behind his mother’s legs, sniffing as tears stream down your face. In front of you both stands Jungkook, there’s remorse written all over his face as his mother stares him down with hands on her hips and a look that just screams that this is only the beginning of his punishment.

‘’Apologize to Y/N right now Jungkook, or I’ll have your father have a word with you,’’ she threatens with a stern tone, making her son quickly shake his head no. ‘‘You need to learn how to share your toys.’’

You peek behind her lanky leg and find the slightly older kid looking at you with narrowed eyes, ‘‘I’m sorry, Y/N.’’ He apologizes with a bow, but he’s obviously displeased with the whole ordeal.

His mother sighs and Jungkook pouts at the look on her face. She urges you to come out from your not-so-secret hiding spot and to go back to playing with him, even though you seriously doubt that will do any good to what just happened.

Jungkook’s bedroom door is kept open as he sits back down on his city patterned carpet, you twiddle with your thumbs and stare at the Spiderman poster on his wall. There’s an awkward silence between you two until you feel a toy bump your crisscrossed legs.

It’s the shiny red car he had refused to lend you before, provoking an argument between you two which eventually made you run out of his room in tears as you ratted him out to his mom.

‘‘Wooow,’’ you whisper in awe, taking the car in your hands with so much care, treating it like it’s one of your newest dolls.

Jungkook huffs, crossing his arms as he looks at you with distaste and he’s forced to settle with other boring toys as you giggle to yourself, making the car follow the carpet’s tracks. He learns then to never trust his mother again. If she ever says she’ll bring a new friend for him to play with again, he’ll refuse wholeheartedly.

He doesn’t like sharing his toys, and it’ll probably take him a long time to learn how to.

You’re nine as you hand Jungkook one of the multiple Valentine’s Day cards you carefully crafted the night before with your mother, adding all kinds of pretty stickers and shiny glitter to make each one of them unique. His is different from the rest, though.

You added hearts to the dots in the I’s, there’s a hint of your favorite body splash enveloping the pink construction paper and it fills Jungkook’s nostrils with so much force that he feels he could gag at the smell.

‘‘What do you think?’’ You ask the fourth-grader with a big smile on your face, cheeks tinted with a light shade of red as you see him reading the little message you wrote inside the card.

Jungkook lets out a mocking chuckle, ‘‘Are you serious? You like me?’’ He asks you, but it doesn’t look like he’s looking for answers. Your smile slowly fades away, looking at him with glossy eyes, ‘‘I don’t like you, you’re just a dumb little girl.’’

His card was the one you had invested the most time in and yet it only took him a second to crumple it with his hand, and another five for him to toss it into the trash can near you before he goes back to his group of friends in the school’s playground.

You learn how to hold your tears in then, thinking it’s a great accomplishment and that maybe now he’ll stop calling you a crybaby.

His friends receive him with high-fives and he smiles with gratefulness because they just saw how much of a badass he can be. Once recess is over and everyone’s going back to their classrooms, Jungkook nears the garbage bin where he had thrown the Valentine's card in, but finds it’s now dirty with yogurt someone tossed inside.

He grimaces at the sight and sighs, there’s no way he can save it now.

You’re twelve and you’re the only girl in the treehouse who hasn’t gone through puberty yet. It wasn’t something that bothered you until just recently, when it became pretty evident why none of the boys would even give you a onceover compared to the other girls.

“I don’t know if I want to play,” you mumble after Kim Jihyo suggests playing spin the bottle. You’re the only one who opposes the idea, though you could count Jungkook in given as he just sat there without saying a word.

Park Yerim rolls her eyes, “You’re so boring, Y/N!” The comment makes the rest giggle as you pout at being the designated party pooper.

It’s all fun and games of truth and dares to whoever the bottle lands on and you’ve been lucky enough to avoid the tip of the plastic Coca-Cola bottle to point at you, until it lands on Jungkook who has done a few funny dares so far.

“Alright, Jungkook, let’s make things even more fun!” Jihyo announces since she’s been the one who has assigned most of the embarrassing challenges and questions, “I dare you to kiss one of the girls here for ten seconds.”

The dare makes the boys cheer with excitement and the girls gasp with anticipation, hoping one of them is the lucky chosen one. Your lips part slightly as you stare at him sitting across from you, he’s clearly not comfortable with the dare, but knowing him, he won’t express his current discomfort.

His eyes land on you as you stare back at him with concern, hoping that he’ll speak up to avoid himself the embarrassment. Has he even kissed someone before? If this is his first kiss, you’ll witness it alongside everyone else and you can only imagine how terrifying that must be. Even though Jungkook’s always been a brave kid, you can always tell when he feels under pressure.

“Uhm, I’ll uh—“ Jungkook keeps staring at you and you feel your heart start to beat like you just ran the usual ten laps around the gym in P.E class. Are you about to have your first kiss? With him?

You nod your head absentmindedly, a sign to let him know it’s okay for him to pick you from all the other developed girls who probably have more experience kissing than you do, but it’s okay because you’ve always been a quick learner.

“Yeji,” Jungkook says after what feels like forever, though it’s only been a mere few seconds, “I’ll kiss Yeji.” He adds, removing his eyes from yours and settling them on the girl with the high ponytail and pink colored nails.

You bite your bottom lip hard, breaking the dry skin as you feel yourself taste blood. It doesn’t matter because no one’s paying attention to you and instead they’re focused on Jungkook’s neverending kiss with Yeji.

When you get home that night, you look at yourself in the mirror and frown at your lack of everything. Is this the reason as to why he hadn’t picked you?

You’re fourteen and Kim Taehyung just sent you a message through MSN in which he confesses to have feelings for you. Your eyes widen, rereading the message several times, rubbing at your eyes just to make sure you’re seeing things correctly.

You run off across the street to Jungkook’s house, ringing the doorbell quickly for someone to open up. You’re greeted by him looking at you with an annoyed expression, he had to pause his GTA game to come and open the door.

“What do you want?” Jungkook asks harshly, crossing his arms as he stares into somewhere that’s not your face. He’s anxiously waiting for you to spit out whatever it is you’re there to say.

You calm yourself down by breathing in deep and out, blowing the air right at him, “Does Taehyung like me?” You ask him, making Jungkook’s eyes widen in surprise and his brows to raise.

His reaction tells you that you might’ve just discovered a secret you weren’t supposed to and it only makes your heart beat even faster because if it’s true, then this is a pleasant surprise. Kim Taehyung is one of the hottest boys in the tenth grade and he happens to be one of Jungkook’s closest friends. You think he must know something since you see them hanging out at lunch.

“Uh—I don’t know, Y/N.” Jungkook mumbles, rubbing at the back of his neck, finally looking at you and he feels a gut wrenching punch in his stomach at the sight. “Taehyung isn’t a really good guy, you shouldn’t—“

“What are you saying?” You interrupt him with a question, confused as to why Jungkook was painting a negative picture of his friend. “He was really sweet with what he said, he thinks my eyes are pretty when they sparkle — I didn’t even know they did that!”

Jungkook grimaces and sighs, there’s really not much he can do here. You’ve always been so stubborn, so relentless. No matter how many times life tries to tell you something’s not meant for you, you challenge each and every one of it’s obstacles until you take what’s yours.

“Okay, then what are you gonna do? Date him? You haven’t even had your first kiss yet.” Jungkook reminds you with a mocking tone and you furrow your brows together because, how does he know that?

You stammer, “I-I have! I had it at camp last summer, actually!” That’s a lie, but he wasn’t there so he can’t prove the veracity of your statement. “And what do you care? So what if I want to date him?” You add with anger, not understanding why couldn’t he just support you in search of true love.

The thought of dating Kim Taehyung had never crossed your mind, thinking he was way too out of your league for him to ever notice you. But that confession sitting in your MSN chat now served as a nice feeling of knowing you aren’t as invisible as you think you are.

Jungkook scoffs, “Taehyung would never date you, okay? He’s older than you, he’s cool, he goes to parties and has kissed almost every girl in his grade, do you think he’d really like someone as boring as you?” He doesn’t mean to be so harsh, but you’re just so difficult and impossible to get through.

Jungkook’s used to the trembling bottom lip and the teary eyes that you give him everytime he says something that definitely strikes a nerve within you, but he’s always impressed on how you always refrain from crying in front of him. Last time you did that you were both kids and he probably took the last lollipop from your batch of collected halloween candy.

“Screw you, Jungkook,” you say through gritted teeth, and if looks could kill, he’d be dead already.

He looks at you quickly stomp your way back to your house, only heading back inside once you slam your front door shut. Jungkook enters his room to find two new messages in his MSN.

$$ kIm tAaEhyYyuNG $$: it worked!

$$ kIm tAeEhyYyunGG $$: she fell for it xDxD where did u even come up with the sparkly eyes thing?? that’s gold bro rofl

Jungkook sighs, ignoring the messages and shutting his computer down.

You’re sixteen and you’ve been invited to your first party. Granted, it was Jungkook’s, but he knew that if he didn’t ask you to come you’d probably tell on him with his mom. No matter what age he was, he’d always fear his mother’s scolding.

“Drink this!” Park Jimin says with his beautiful smile and you’re starting to realize why they gave him that very same superlative on the school’s yearbook. You take the red solo cup without any second thought, placing the rim straight to your lips and choke once you feel the liquid burn your throat.

“Ugh—What’s this?” You ask, cleaning the droplets of liquid around the corners of your mouth.

He chuckles, “Fruit punch!” The liquid is indeed red like the familiar drink you’re used to, but there’s definitely something else mixed inside. “Oh, and vodka,” he adds with wiggly eyebrows as he shows off the small flask he was hiding in his sweatshirt’s front pocket.

You gasp and hand him the cup back, “No, I don’t drink alcohol, sorry.” Jimin rolls his eyes and it reminds you of the many times you’ve received this same reaction from your classmates before. Always a party pooper. He’s about to take the plastic red cup from you until you quickly drink the spiked punch in one go.

The boy howls in excitement, “Woo, go Y/N! Another one coming right up.”

Jungkook knows he should be making sure everything’s alright downstairs. If his mother notices there’s at least one misplaced object, she’ll know right away something went down in her house while her husband and her were away for the weekend on an emergency trip to their hometown. Leaving him unsupervised only because they both believed their son was old enough to tend for himself.

But Jung Eunha had dragged him into his room with the excuse of wanting to see what it looked like, but the mini tour had turned into them kissing on his bed and Jungkook is thankful he changed his Spiderman sheets in exchange for some boring plain grey ones. Eunha smells like fresh mint and Jungkook is way into his head to focus on properly kissing her.

It’s not until his bedroom door is abruptly open, slamming against the wall that Jungkook literally jumps to his feet, making Eunha gasp as they both look at the person who has interrupted their awkward makeout session.

“Guk-ah, what are you doin’?” You curiously wonder, a hiccup following right after which makes you giggle. Jungkook’s chest rises and falls with quickness as he notices you look different from the last time he saw you twenty minutes ago when you were talking to Jimin. “Guk-ah, were you—you kissin’ Eunha?” You ask once more after not receiving an answer to your previous question.

“Y/N, are you okay?” He asks in concern, coming closer to analyze your weird state. You stretch your arm out to avoid him from nearing you, making him falter in his place as he studies your expression.

You hum, “Guk-ah, you busy. Sorry,” you apologize in a shy tone, ready to head back down and have more of that fruity alcohol punch you now found tasty, but you stumble and only avoid yourself from falling by holding onto Jungkook's door frame, he’s already reaching out by then.

“Are you fucking serious, Y/N? Get out!” Eunha complains with irritation, getting up from the bed and ready to kick you out of his room, but his free arm stops her from getting near you. “Whu—?”

“Eunha, go back down. I’ll deal with her myself.” Jungkook says as calmly as he can, thinking three’s a crowd and dealing with you wasn’t an easy thing in of itself. She’s about to argue, but he interrupts her again, “Go down, now.”

She rolls her eyes and bumps her shoulder against yours harshly once she steps out of his room, “Whatever, that kiss was shitty anyway.”

He pretends he didn’t hear that and takes you in his arms instead, dragging you to lay on his bed as you cuddle into his favorite pillow and hug it close to your body. How much did you drink? Why did you even do it in the first place? Jungkook knows you’ve never tried alcohol before, which means he’ll be in big trouble if you show up back to your house like this.

When you open your eyes hours later, your head hurts and it feels lightweight when you move it side to side. The room you’re in is familiar, that spiderman poster is still hung on the wall, but there are no more toys laying around the floor; they’ve probably been stored somewhere in his garage or sent off to a donation center under his mother’s demand.

The pillow that you’re hugging smells just like him and any other day you’d hold on to it tighter and inhale his scent like your life depended on it, but you abruptly sit on the bed as you’re reminded of how you got here. The action is not appreciated by your dizzy head, but you look around the room to notice how dark it is and there’s no more music playing downstairs.

You quickly jump to the ground, only to hear a “Fuck, ouch!” from below, stepping on Jungkook’s leg unintentionally. It makes you gasp, looking down to notice the older friend laying on the cold floor, having gotten rid of that childhood carpet of his. His head’s laying on a makeshift pillow made out of a towel and he’s trying hard not to shiver.

“I’m sorry, sorry, sorry!” You quickly apologize, stepping away from his figure as he soothes the shin of his leg you stepped on. “Jungkook, what happened?”

He sighs, “Someone decided to drink like five cups of spiked punch knowing damn well it was their first time drinking alcohol, stepped into my room like a crazy person, and then crashed on my bed like they—What’s with the face?”

“Bathroom.”

Jungkook grimaces while he holds your hair back, you’re throwing away all the liquid you had taken with a few additional snacks you had munched on earlier, “Are you done?” He asks in a tired mumble and you shake your head no.

He feels guilty that you’re in this position. He didn’t even want to kiss Eunha, but she was one of the most popular girls in his grade and he knew that if he turned her down she would most likely put a bad word in with the rest of the girls and the guys would make fun of him for being such a wuss.

That would’ve been better, because after laying you down on his bed he had to go down and tell everyone that the party was over, putting an excuse that the neighbors had warned him and threatened to call the cops. They all cleared pretty quickly, but he knew he was going to be the butt of the jokes come Monday. He even had to call your parents to let them know you had gone home to a friend’s house for a sleepover, which he knew wasn’t totally believable, but it had somehow gotten them convinced that their daughter was alright because they trusted Jungkook to never hurt you ever.

Once you feel like you’ve puked your stomach out, Jungkook hands you a pill accompanied with a glass of water and hands you clothes of his that might be more comfortable to sleep in.

“Good night, Jungkook,” you whisper once you’re laying back on his bed, still hugging the pillow he preferred to sleep with. He makes a sacrifice to make it up to you.

His back is going to hurt by the time the sun comes out in a few hours, but it’s okay if it means you’ll sleep comfortably after the events of tonight. “Good night, Y/N.”

He’s unable to sleep, but finds entertainment in your hanging hand beside his bed. The skin on your palm looks soft and there’s this strange urge inside of him that makes him want to grab your hand in his, but he refrains.

To calm the current chaos in his head, Jungkook finds peace in the light snores coming from his bed.

You’re just about to turn eighteen and your date to the prom is Jeong Jaehyun, who had only asked you out a day before the event because the girl he had initially wanted to take had been asked and he didn’t have a plan B.

Jaehyun is okay, at least he managed to get you a corsage that matched the color of your dress. He even smiles in the pictures your parents take of you both as you awkwardly try to look comfortable with his arms around you even though by then you had only exchanged a few sentences.

The prom’s theme is Summer Nights and you think it’s fitting considering this is the very last event before the graduation ceremony, meaning that you’d most likely never see most of these people ever again. You had purposely applied to a college that was outside of your hometown for that same reason. You’re ready to live the life you’ve always wanted to live, without anyone judging or knowing you.

Your date spends most of the night talking with his group of friends as you’re left alone on your table, looking at your well manicured nails. You knew you weren’t going to get the same prom experience the high school kids on T.V enjoyed, but you at least hoped it would’ve been a little more fun than this.

A tap on your shoulder makes you turn around to see Jungkook trying to loosen the tight tie around his neck. He looks incredibly handsome and you suppose his mother helped him pick the suit out, Jungkook rarely ever wore fitted clothing, so this is one of those once in a lifetime moments..

“Hey you,” you say and he gives you half a smile, wondering why you’re sitting by yourself at an empty table when everyone else was either mingling or dancing. “Where’s your date?” You ask with curiosity, you’re surprised that Jinsoul isn’t trailing alongside him given how she had behaved for the past week ever since he asked her to come with him.

“Retouching her face or something,” he answers casually, “what are you doing sitting here? Where’s Jaehyun?” Jungkook asks.

You shrug your shoulders, “Don’t know, probably talking with the guys of the basketball team. He’s been gone for a while.” Not like you care, anyway. If your conversation with him inside his car on the way to the venue had been any indication of what it would’ve been like for the rest of the night, you’re glad he's not here trying to make any more small talk with you.

Jungkook huffs, thinking he’ll kick his ass if he sees him. He had asked him to invite you so you wouldn’t come alone, and yet here you are, sitting all by yourself while the douchebag’s making a social life somewhere in the crowd. He calms down once he notices how unbothered you are by it, though. You’re a big girl now, you’ve been through too much to be affected by something as simple as this.

“Is there something you wan—“

“Dance!” You interrupt with excitement and Jungkook chuckles.

“I was gonna ask if you wanted something to drink, but—alright, let’s dance.” Jungkook can’t dance for shit, but you took lessons when you were younger and he can still remember how you’d always show him the routines you learned in class. He’d always boo you, but in reality you were pretty good. He wonders why you stopped, he doesn’t recall you ever telling him.

It’s just his luck that once you both step into the dancefloor, the hired DJ stops the up-tempo song playing before and switches to a much slower romantic one, “Alright everyone, I want all the couples on the dancefloor for this one.”

You step away from him with nervousness, it’s couples only after all. But Jungkook holds onto your lower back firmly, pulling you closer into his space. Your eyebrows raise as your lips part, “Uh, s-should we, uh—?”

“It’s just a song, Y/N. You wanted to dance, then we’ll dance.” He tells you with such confidence it makes you feel like this is totally normal and something all friends do. All the known High School couples are dancing together, heads tenderly placed over chests and chins resting lovingly above them. You wait for Jungkook to take the lead because you have no clue of what you should be doing, you might’ve taken dance lessons years ago but you’ve never slowed danced in your life.

Jungkook places his hand on your hip, the touch makes goosebumps crawl in your arms. He pretends he doesn’t notice it as he takes your right hand in his. You stare at the way he delicately holds it like it’s his mother’s fine china. “Place your other hand on my shoulder,” he instructs and you do as asked, your palm coming to rest on the strong muscle.

He’s only slowed danced once before at a family member’s wedding where his mother taught him how to, with her as the teacher. Back then he thought it was incredibly ridiculous, but now he’s sort of glad that happened because he’s the teacher now and you’re now looking at him with your big eyes as you sway alongside him.

You clear your throat, “This isn’t that hard.” Jungkook nods as he stares down at you, noticing how uneasy you are given that you’re looking at everything and not entirely immersed in the moment.

“You look beautiful tonight.” He says out of nowhere, making you look at him like a deer stuck in headlights, cheeks flushed with embarrassment. He had never called you that before.

An awkward laugh escapes your lips, looking away from his intense gaze as you try not to take his words too literally, “Ha ha, that was a good one.” To you there’s no other explanation than this being one of his mean pranks on you.

But Jungkook doesn’t falter both his words and gaze, “I’m not laughing.” There’s seriousness in his voice and you have to look back at him again just to make sure he really isn’t, “You look beautiful, just take the compliment.” You nod and there’s silence between you two after that. You’re digesting the romantic lyrics that the singer is talking about and hope that the song ends soon, because you’ve never been this close to him and it’s starting to feel too crowded.

You clear your throat, “So…”

“So…,” he repeats.

“What are you doing for summer?” You ask him in an attempt to break the tension and wanting to take advantage of the little intimate moment since Jungkook rarely ever lets you pry into his private life.

“I think I’ll train before heading off,” he answers. It was more than obvious he was going to earn that sports scholarship he had been aiming for, he was one of the best athletes on the school; though you considered him to be the number one between them all. “I’m kinda scared, not gonna lie.”

You look at him with surprise, tilting your head to the side, “You’re scared?” You ask in disbelief because as long as you’ve known him, he’s never been scared of anything. This is the same kid who instilled your fear of monsters in a closet after watching Monster’s Inc. together, also the same kid who helped you get over it after he realized you had actually taken it seriously.

He chuckles lightly, “Yeah, I’m just scared about starting over.” It’s interesting how his biggest fear is the one you’re looking forward to the most, but you suppose it’s fitting for someone who has never had to worry about what people think of him. In this town, Jungkook has swam freely without any concerns. Out there, he’s just another fish in the big and scary ocean. “Aren’t you?” He questions, hoping that you’re able to relate to what he’s feeling.

“Honestly, I—“

You’re interrupted by Jaehyun clearing his voice in front of you two, making you both turn your heads towards his direction. You quickly separate from Jungkook and he feels his body lose the warmness you were providing.

“If you wanted to dance, you could’ve just asked. I’m your date after all.” He says smugly and you chuckle awkwardly, nodding because he’s right.

Jungkook wants to punch his stupid face, how dare he interrupt you both when he had been ignoring you the whole night? Why does he suddenly want to dance with you when he’s probably still upset at him for asking Jinsoul to the prom before he could?

“Your date’s looking for you, buddy. She doesn’t look too happy.” Jaehyun adds with a smirk as he takes your hand in his and drags you away from Jungkook towards another place on the dancefloor.

He’s left to stare at the way he holds your hand, and he only hopes he’s doing it ever so carefully.

You’re twenty when Jungkook sees you for the first time since you both left for college two and half a years ago. He’s rendered speechless when he spots you in the crowd, there’s a manly hand around your waist as you giggle into the stranger’s mouth before placing a kiss to his lips.

There’s only so much social media can provide him, pictures and stories aren’t enough for Jungkook to keep up with you. He thinks you’ve changed, not only appearance wise but you seem way more outgoing, carefree, and happy. Did he miss the boyfriend announcement picture? He’s sure he didn’t, he checks your profile almost every day and he’s never even seen him in any of your stories.

A gasp escapes your lips once you spot him, completely forgetting about the possibility of bumping into him given that both your schools were playing against each other that night. You tell Namjoon you’ll be right back and he nods, going back to a conversation with the group of college friends you had made.

You surprise him by jumping into him, arms around his shoulders as you hug him from behind. You let out a shrill of excitement and he blushes as his friends chuckle at the unexpected approach from this unfamiliar girl.

‘‘Jungkook! You didn’t tell me you’d be here,’’ you say once he turns around to face you and he’s able to see you better upfront. You look beautiful and he thinks the Instagram pictures are not doing you enough justice. You’re glowing, and it has nothing to do with the highlighter you applied on your face and collarbone area.

The both of you aren’t able to properly talk until you suggest moving to a different area, Jungkook apologizing to his friends as he explained he needed to catch up with an old friend. They don’t complain and instead shoot him teasing looks and small pervy comments that go by unnoticed to you.

Jungkook listens with intent to your ramble about what you’ve been up to. From your courses, to your roommates, the parties you’ve attended, and even the fact that you handle your alcohol better now. He’s happy that you seem so too, but it irks him that you hadn’t been capable of telling him that you had a boyfriend now. Is there a reason as to why you omitted that important piece of information?

‘‘And what about you? How’s college?’’ You ask with curiosity.

He blinks a few times, realizing you had stopped talking about yourself and was now wondering about him instead. ‘‘It’s fine,’’ he answers with a tight lipped smile, the lack of detail compared to you was astonishing, but even though you were still hungry for more you decided not to pry any further.

There’s fear in revealing that he’s been having a hard time catching up with the rest of his peers. College was indeed fine, but it could be better. He’s settled with the idea that this is as good at it’ll get, some things just aren’t like you expect them to be. At least you’re happy, and that fact brings him comfort.

‘‘Was that your, uhm─boyfriend?’’ He finally asks after a while, both about to head back to your respective group of friends.

The question takes you by surprise, looking at him with raised eyebrows and mouth agape. ‘‘Who? Namjoon?’’ He nods, though he doesn’t know anything about the guy he had first seen you with. You let out a wholehearted laugh, ‘‘Hell no, too many commitment issues with that one,’’ you answer and Jungkook’s forehead creases with confusion.

Why were you kissing him then?

‘‘We’re friends with benefits,’’ you inform him as if you had read his mind. ‘‘He’s a nice guy, though. Also, super smart, he’s helped me with a few of my─’’

‘‘You’re not a virgin anymore?’’ He abruptly asks, disbelief in his tone as he internally screams to himself for thinking out loud. Jungkook expects you to berate him about such an imprudent question, but is surprised when he sees you giggling.

‘‘Duh, silly. I think I lost it freshman year?’’ The carelessness in your voice makes him look at you like you’ve gone crazy. Why are you so lax about this? Why are you telling him about losing your virginity without a care in the world? ‘‘Anyway, are you going to be home for the─’’

Jungkook interrupts you once again, ‘‘Was it with your boyfriend at the time?’’ He asks in genuine curiosity and you sigh, rolling your eyes slightly at him.

‘‘No, it was some random dude at this party I went to. Could you please─’’

‘‘Y/N, are you insane? Why would you give up your virginity to some fucking stranger like it’s nothing?’’ Jungkook’s voice raises as he scolds you about being so negligent about yourself, ‘‘You can’t do shit like that!’’ He fumed, making you let out a breathless chuckle.

‘‘Could you stop treating me like a fucking child for once in your life? I’m perfectly fine, Jungkook. I’ve been doing pretty well for myself without you here, actually. I don’t know why you think you have a say on what I do, is it the entitlement you have of me that you still carry around because we grew up together? Because if that’s it then you can drop it, I let go of my little girl who wanted a friend and was treated like pure shit in return complex a long time ago.’’

He knows you’re right, but he thinks he’ll always have this odd sense of protection over the five year old girl who cried to his mom about not lending her his favorite toy. He’ll always want to apologize to the eight year old girl who declared her love for him with a Valentine’s Day card while he ended up breaking her heart in exchange. He’ll always wish to look for help within the twelve year old girl who witnessed him give out his first kiss to another girl who he didn’t even like. He’ll always feel guilty towards the sixteen year old girl who had gotten tipsy on a spiked fruit punch and crashed on his bed. He’ll always hate himself for not asking the seventeen going on eighteen year old girl to prom when he knew he could��ve, but chose not to in fear of ruining your friendship.

You only wanted someone to be there for you growing up and Jungkook had never been the brave boy you thought he was, always running from his fears in hopes he’d have a wide advantage margin from them. Yet here they are, standing right in front of him in the form of a twenty year old you, and they’re there to let him know that you’ve never needed him, yet he’s always needed you.

He can’t even apologize, he only looks at you with wide eyes as he fidgets in his place. Either you’re both too old now to understand each other or you just realized that you’ve outgrown Jungkook.

Your mouth set in a hard line as you crossed your arms, the night’s breeze feeling colder than usual. ‘‘I miss you Jungkook, but I can’t keep playing this cat and mouse game with you any longer.’’

You leave him behind to go back to Namjoon’s arms, seeking refuge in his sweet embrace as you try your hardest to put on practice what you learned all those years ago when Jungkook broke your heart for the first time, you should be used to it by now.

You’re twenty-one when you’re back in your hometown to attend the funeral of the old lady down the street, the one that always scolded you and Jungkook growing up.

You had been scared of her as a child, but always following along your friend’s footsteps when he proposed playing around her garden. It tugs at your heartstrings even if you hadn’t known the woman well. Her death was imminent seeing as she’d been ill for quite some time.

A taller figure stands next to you as you both stand way in the back of the ceremony. He looks tired and you figure that it’s because of the fact he arrived late into the night, you heard his car’s engine from your bedroom window. Dressing in all black, you notice he bought a new suit. You’re sure that the one he wore for prom no longer fits considering he’s bigger now.

You haven’t talked to each other since last year when you both left off on a sour note. The hurt you felt was no longer present, though. You chewed on your bottom lip as you thought of a way you could talk to him again without making things awkward, but you let out a small gasp once he placed his arm around your shoulders, giving it a small squeeze as he sighed and kept his focus on the service.

Watching the casket be lowered into the ground felt weird. She was a human being just like you, but her existence was a reminder of your childhood. Would it be okay to say that her death meant a part of you leaving with her too?

Once it hits you, it’s Jungkook who consoles you by hugging you tight. Your eyes are too blurry with tears for you to realize this is one of those rare moments where he’s holding you close without hesitation. He lets you ruin his tuxedo’s jacket with your mascara covered tears as he brushes your hair as a sign of comfort.

You know things are back in order when he proposes the idea to go back to the old lady’s porch, for old times sake. ‘‘Will we ever let her rest?’’ You ask him with a small laugh as Jungkook sits on the doorsteps of the old lady’s empty home, opening the bag of candy worms he bought at the grocery store.

He shrugs, ‘‘She loved us, always told my mom how much she missed us running around the street.’’ The revelation makes you smile, hoping it was true. He pats the empty space next to him, indicating for you to fill it up with your presence. Once you do, you feel the familiar warmth of his proximity.

Jungkook seems different and you only hope he’s changed for the best.

‘‘When are you going back?’’ You ask him with curiosity, hoping that he’ll be in town for a few more days so you can catch up with him on a better note this time around.

He munches on one of the snacks, ‘‘Tomorrow morning, I have training camp and can’t miss it.’’ His answer makes you sigh with disappointment, but you nod nonetheless. ‘‘What about you?’’ He asks in return, and you inform him that you’ll stay for a few more days to spend time with your family. There’s silence after that and Jungkook can only offer you the gummy worms in the bag, you take one with a small thanks.

‘‘College fucking sucks,’’ he says out of nowhere and it makes you look at him in bewilderement, ‘‘I hate it there, I wanna drop out so bad. But I’m a year away from graduating so it’s too late now.’’ You see his shoulders visibly relax, like a weight had been lifted off them. ‘‘Plus my mom would kill me if I do so,’’ he adds with a chuckle.

Last time you asked everything was fine. Had things changed or had they always been this way and he was just now being honest with you?

You rest your head on his shoulder and focus all of your undivided attention on him as he keeps rambling about what his life has been ever since he left this town. He’s had bad games, bad grades, and bad girls. But he’s also had incredible games, good grades, and a couple great hookups, and yet he still feels empty, it’s not enough.

‘‘I miss you,’’ he mumbles as he faces you, ‘‘I’m sorry for being such a shitty friend, you deserved better.’’ His apology is genuine and you can feel it in the way his voice trembles, sincerity has always scared him after all.

Jungkook’s never known when the time is right, and he misjudges the look on your face. When he leans down to press his lips against yours, he’s blinded for a mere moment into believing that you wanted to kiss him just as much as he had been waiting.

You abruptly separate from him with wide eyes and parted lips, ‘‘Jungkook, I’m─I’m dating Namjoon now.’’ He can physically feel his heart shatter, the revelation coming out like an old newspaper headline he should’ve read a long time ago.

He lets out a breathless chuckle, ‘‘He got over the commitment issues?’’ The rhetorical question is bitter.

You scoff, ‘‘And what about it? I preferred to wait than to rush into getting my heart broken.’’ Plus it’s not like you were expecting Namjoon to grow feelings for you, the whole no strings attached arrangement was named that way for a reason.

Jungkook looks at you with narrowed eyes and he shakes his head sightly. Old habits never die down, still so stubborn and challenging as ever.

He’s startled as you stand abruptly, fuming as you look at him, ‘‘I don’t even know why you care! Did you forget that you threw my Valentine’s Day card into the trash? Or that you kissed Yeji in front of my face? Or that you let Taehyung date me as prank between your friends? Or that you were making out with Eunha while Jimin kept giving me alcohol? Or that you asked Jaehyun to take me to the stupid prom even though I was perfectly fine going without him or anyone for that matter?’’

‘‘We were just kids!’’ Jungkook argues back at you.

‘‘It still fucking hurt,’’ you counter, ‘‘still hurts, actually. You think that by giving me a measly apology and kissing it better I’ll suddenly forget about all of it?’’ Jungkook knows it won’t ever make up for all those years, but he had at least hoped you’d be willing to give him a chance.

He wishes he could say something else. Explain that he had just tried to protect you in his own shitty way from everyone else or himself maybe, he doesn’t know anymore. He wants to speak up again, but there’s disappointment written all over your face, you’re not angry at him...just saddened.

‘‘Hope you have fun at your training camp.’’

Jungkook watches as you leave him sitting by himself on the old lady’s doorstep. A hand runs through his hair as he feels his eyes water, and he can almost hear a whisper in the wind that asks him why he didn’t stop you when he could’ve.

Jungkook didn’t think that his family coming together with yours for Christmas dinner would’ve been a great idea. You’re cold to him at first and it’s fitting for the winter weather, but as always it only takes for him to sit next to you for things to warm up again.

It’s with the excuse that you’ll run over to your house to grab a new bottle of wine from the kitchen counter that Jungkook trails behind you, both slightly tipsy on the different alcohols your families had offered each other.

Years have passed since he last stepped foot inside your home, you used to visit him more often than he did anyway. It still smells and looks the same; the only difference is that there’s new pictures of you hung up on the walls, updated accordingly to the changes you’ve made ever since you left off for college.

You’re sporting a big smile in all of them, which in exchange makes him copy the action as well. His lack of presence in your life has done you better than compared to when he was around, and if that’s the case, then at least he did something right.

There hasn’t been much said since the beginning of the night, just a simple hey out of courtesy. There’s so much he wants to say, but with no clue where to begin. Another apology is due, though he thinks it’s a little too late for that. He also wants to ask about what you’ve been up to since he last saw you, are you still dating the Namjoon guy you had told him about after he kissed you? If he’s still there, Jungkook rather keep quiet and not wonder out loud to you, he’s sure that it’ll hurt if it’s true.

Growing up Jungkook always mistook your bravery with stubbornness and your courage with relentlessness. You’ve always been challenging, but only because you wanted him to do so too. It’s moments like this that prove him that you’ve always been the stronger between the two.

‘‘So, we’re just gonna pretend like nothing’s wrong between us?’’ You ask, speaking directly to him for the first time that night. It makes him look at you like a deer stuck in headlights, surprised by the sudden question and out of all the years of knowing each other, he feels small under your gaze for once. ‘‘How much time is it going to pass until you want to finally talk things like adults?’’

Jungkook gulps the lump in his throat, his brain quickly thinking of the right thing to say, ‘‘I just wanted to protect you from─’’

‘‘From what? From you? Everytime you’ve done that I end up getting hurt in the end. I’m left to pick the pieces up by myself,’’ you interject with anger in your voice. ‘‘It fucking pisses me off that I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you kissing me, I haven’t stopped thinking about you and─’’ A sigh, you close your eyes to center yourself again as Jungkook waits for the final blow, ‘‘and you look like none of this has ever bothered you in the slightest because, you don’t really care about me do you?’’

‘‘I do care about you.’’ He’s sure about it, even though he’s been extremely bad at showing it.

Even though your eyes are threatening to spill tears, you still muster up the last bit of what’s left of your courage to step closer to him until you’re a few inches away. ‘‘Prove it, then. Show me that you care.’’

His brain is sent into quick overdrive due to your close proximity. There’s a slight hesitation because he only hopes that what he’s about to do is what you’re demanding him to prove. He doesn’t care if you’re still dating the Namjoon guy because he’s settled with the idea that it’s okay if you don’t correspond, it’s not like he did the same to you when you were both younger.

Once his lips press against yours, there’s no turning back. He’s waiting for you to push him back and let him know that your heart’s still taken, but you kiss him with such fervor that he knows in that moment that you’re right, it’s better to wait than to rush right in.

It’s no fairytale kiss, though. There’s desperation in the way you chase his lips, as if you were to slow down he’d find a way to escape from you. You grip the cotton material of his crewneck into your small fists, holding on to the fabric like your life depended on it. The small kiss you had both shared last year was nothing compared to this, and Jungkook’s taken aback by your neediness.

He doesn’t know how you manage to drag him to your childhood bedroom without missing a beat, only separating once you both realize you need to catch your breaths, and even then Jungkook can’t have a minute to take just happened in because your lips attach to his neck to get more of a taste. His fingers curled around your arm, sighing at the way your kisses felt like electricity on his skin.

‘‘Y/N,’’ he calls your name out in a breathy tone, but you’re too immersed in your little bubble to even realize it.

Jungkook groans when you bite into the skin of his neck, then blowing over the red mark as you kissed it better. It’s going to be bruise and he doesn’t like when that happens, but he’s not bothered at all if it comes from you. He forcibly grabs your chin so you can face him, looking at him with big eyes, a small pout, and with your chin messed with drool.

It’s then that Jungkook kisses you hungrily, making you feel like you’re in a dream-like state, though you could partially blame the Christmas eggnog for that. The way he bites at your lips and how your tongues clash together is an extreme juxtaposition as to how you could describe this moment. It’s as if you’re floating on air, clouds surrounding you in a heavenly embrace, angels singing in the background every time his hands touch, grab, hold and caress every part of your body. And yet, even with such a difference, it’s perfect because it’s Jungkook. You’ve been waiting for this too long, which is why your hands creep beneath his crewneck, touching his tonified abdomen tentatively and enjoying the way goosebumps arise on his skin at the sensation of your fingers trailing patterns wherever they caress.

It’s only fair that he pays attention to yours as well. Jungkook’s lips trail from your mouth onto your jawline, planting wet kisses on each space until he begins sucking on the skin of your neck, making you moan in the process. He chooses then that his new favorite sound is the way you voice out the pleasure he gives you. ‘‘Hurry up,’’ you say, ridding the bottom of the crewneck higher over his stomach, making him shiver at the sudden change of temperature.

Jungkook chuckles before completely getting rid of the material, ‘‘Calm down,’’ he sighs as he gives you a sweet smile, ‘‘You know our moms could talk forever.’’

You ogle his chest, admiring the way his training camps have obviously done wonders to his body. ‘‘It’s not them I’m talking about,’’ you correct him with a teasing smile that only makes his grin grow wider, chuckling at your impatience. Jungkook lets out a small gasp of surprise when your hands grasp at his shoulder blades, turning him around so you can back him until the back of his knees hit the edge of your bed. It’s funny how he lets himself be bossed around by someone who’s way smaller compared to his frame.

Jungkook finds leverage on his elbows splayed against the mattress, your knees resting on each side of his hips as you leaned into him and kissing him just as widely as you had done before. Jungkook could fill just how quick things were escalating, especially the way his crotch area was beginning to become a problem he couldn’t possibly control at the moment, not with your own being directly on top of it. In any other situation he would’ve apologized with an awkward laugh, but his breath hitches once your hips start grinding over him.

His hands make their way on the inside of your knitted sweater, provoking goosebumps on the exposed skin. You let out a shaky laugh, halting your movements so you can quickly get rid of the fabric as Jungkook’s eyebrows lift in surprise at your haste and then at the sight of your bra covered breasts. His hands are still steadily placed on each side of your waist, only brought up because your own had redirected them over your breasts, hoping he gets the message on what you want him to do now.

Jungkook hesitantly squeezed one of the round globes, provoking a small moan to come from out of your lips. He wishes to hold you as close as he possibly can because the idea of ever being away from you again has been his main fear as of lately. But he refrains, you look so delicate and he feels like you could easily break. He stares at your body lovingly and your cheeks heat up at the way his eyes ogle your chest like a kid in a candy story. You give his arm a light slap and he chuckles, leaning over you to place a passionate kiss on your lips.

“You’re beautiful,” he says frankly. It doesn’t help to dissipate the flush on your face, but the compliment doesn’t bother you in the slightest. Jungkook leans in to trail kisses past your collarbones and into the swell of your breasts, making you bite your lip with anticipation. He looks at you asking for permission and you nod quickly with parted lips as you start to become impatient for him to make his next move. Jungkook lowers the cups of your breasts, freeing your hardened nipples and immediately envelopes one of them with his lips. “Mph—!” A sigh escapes your lips as you try to memorize the way his tongue traces over your tit. He pays attention to your other one, fingers rolling over the bud and pinching ever so often.

You can feel your panties damp by then, trespassing into the fabric of the black leggings you’re wearing over them. Reaching behind your back, you fumble in unclasping the hooks of the now uncomfortable bra. Jungkook’s forced to stop the undivided attention he had places on your breasts to look at you like he’s lost, why are you going so fast?

Once your hands delve with the buckle of his belt, he has to hold on to your wrists with a firm grasp, ‘‘What are you doing?’’ He asks with quick breath, you blink stoically towards him.

‘‘Uh─getting you naked?’’ You answer with a nonchalant tone, but his hands don’t let go and your demeanor changes, ‘‘D-Did you not want this?’’ Your voice turns smaller, embarrassed that maybe you had pressured him into something he didn’t want to participate in.

Jungkook quickly shakes his head no, ‘‘No, I-I do want this! It’s just─you’re going so fast,’’ he tries to explain, ‘‘I’ve been waiting for this for too long, I don’t wanna rush.’’ Your eyes lit up at the revelation as he waits for you to answer back, only for his back to hit the comforter with a small thud, giggling at the way you urgently kiss him again, but this time with much more care.

‘‘Why didn’t you say so before, stupid?’’ You mumble with a sheepish look, ‘‘I thought it was just going to be─nevermind, I need you right now.’’ You have to force yourself from spitting out any details that could possibly ruin the moment between you two, deciding to wait instead for any emotional confessions you want to make.

He switches positions between the two, panting as he brings you down to the mattress and Jungkook can feel the goosebumps on your skin, whether from the coldness of the room or because of the sheer electricity of his hands caressing your body like it was molded just right for him. He dips his hand lower, cupping your clothed heat on his hand. It makes you tremble and you whine, encouraging him to keep going.

“Baby, you’re really wet,” he comments with a teasing tone and you pout at him. His fingers hook into the waistband of your leggings and he pulls them down as he travels with them, greeted by the sight of the damp cloth of your panties. He exhales with content, caressing your thighs in an up and down motion. You twist underneath him and he has to hold your hips down to calm you down, “Patience is a virtue.”

“I’ve been too patient, do some—Ah!” Your whining is interrupted once Jungkook moves your underwear to the side holding it with his free hand, fingers coming to trace the slick covering your pussy lips. He becomes entranced with the transparent gooey liquid, bringing them close to his face as he separates his fingers and sees a strand connecting between them. “Guk-ah, p-please…” Your needy voice brings him back to reality, delving his fingers back into your exposed heat but this time with intent.

Jungkook’s thumb lifts the hood covering your clit, mouth coming down to give it a small tentative kiss. That action alone has you writhing above him, it makes him chuckle to himself as he dives back in. The moans you let out are loud and clear inside your bedroom, thankful that it’s only you and him inside your house. Your hand pulls at his hair, making him groan against you and the vibrations are felt throughout your body, only adding to the euphoric pleasure you already possess. His fingers trace the inside of your thighs until they reach your entrance, circling the fluttering hole which makes you pull at his hair harder and with your other you hold on to the bedsheets of the comforter tightly into your fist.

Jungkook’s tongue is still working your engorged bud, but he focuses his eyes on you as he dips the first finger inside you. “Oh—fuck,” you let out in a breathy moan. He tries to maintain a rhythm between his two ministrations, but it’s hard when he wants to focus on all of them at once. “‘Nother, please,” you begged once he let your clit rest, quickly following your request by adding another into your warm heat. He lets out a breathless chuckle as he notices how easy it is to thrust both fingers inside of you, your whole crotch area is covered in slick and his wet chin is a dead giveaway to where he was seconds ago.

He watches you unravel over him with such adoration, not even his wettest dreams or dirtiest fantasies could prepare him for this. Seven minutes in heaven he plans to stay in forever. “Guk-ah, I wan’ you. I-Inside, please.” You plead with teary eyes, and he slowly stops, removing his arousal covered fingers from inside you as he makes you sigh in the process. He kisses you again and again, your hazy brain is probably hallucinating all of this right now, but damn is it good. You tug at the crewneck he’s wearing, he’s too overdressed for this occasion. He tends to your demands, quickly getting rid of all the layers of clothing that stop him from being inside of you fully.

“I don’t have a—“

“I’m on the pill.”

You both speak at the same time, making each other chuckle. Jungkook gulps at the idea of taking you raw as the first time together, and you salivate at his hardened length; the head already oozing precum out and you want nothing more than to wrap your lips around it and lick the tip up. You’re just about to when Jungkook quickly grabs your wrist to stop you from reaching him, you look up at him with the big sparkly eyes he has loved for too long.

“I just—I wanna be inside you right now,” he sheepishly admits, and you smile with a nod; sharing the sentiment. You back up until your head rests on the pillows comfortably, relaxing into the mattress as you wait for Jungkook to ready himself. He places a kiss on your lips before placing a hand next to your head, using it as leverage above you. His free hand takes his cock and rubs the tip along your folds, making you squirm with anticipation. Jungkook chuckles, “Are you ready?” He asks with a sweet smile.

“I’ve always been,” you whisper, your hand tucking a strand of his long hair behind his ear.

A caress to his cheek as he nods, slowly pushing the head of his dick into you. You bite into your lip hard, it’s been a while since you had sex with someone and Jungkook’s size and girth was different from the rest. Your walls are tight around him and he has a tough time trying to reach the hilt with you squeezing him so hard, “Baby, relax for me.” He pleads and you nod apologetically, breathing in deep as you feel him reach parts inside of you, you didn’t know existed. Once he’s all the way in, he waits for you to give him the go ahead while he presses kisses into your heated cheek. You wrap your legs around his waist and give him a nod, letting him know he was allowed to start thrusting.

Jungkook manages to hit all the right places, keeping a steady pace as he enters and exits you each time. You’re left to moan and writhe underneath him, letting him take you as he pleases. Your kisses become messy, teeth biting into each other’s lips, teeth grazing against each other as you both tried to fight for the dominant position. It’s that heavy makeout that incites you to push at his shoulders, making him turn in his back, exiting you in the process. Jungkook pants, chest rising and falling with quickness as you straddle his lap, arms connecting behind his neck.

“You always want to win, right?” He chuckles with half lidded eyes, enjoying the way your pussy lips grinded over his twitching length. You bat your eyelashes at him, offering him an innocent smile. The same technique that used to get you everything you wanted when you were younger. Same determination as you seek for what’s yours. He’s under you after all, still a victim to your charms.

Jungkook takes the bulbous head of his cock and teases it in your clit, if you weren’t holding on to him tight you would’ve collapsed into his chest. And by the way you moan his name out, he knows you’ll always look for him no matter the weather. “What a pretty girl,” he coos into your hair and you pinch his nipple in retaliation which only makes him groan in return. “My pretty girl.” He states before sinking himself deep into you again, sighing at the feeling of your hips circling over him. His rough hands guide them as you bounce up and down his length, moaning every time you rose and hissing when you came back down.

He makes sure to keep this image engraved on his head forever. Your breasts bouncing over his face, your thighs working extra hard to keep up with his thrusts, and the way your sounds bounced off the walls of your bedroom.

“You’re doing s-so good, baby.” Jungkook praises you, kneading your ass cheek. “Taking my cock s-so well,” he falls into a trance of admiring the way his length would appear and disappear inside of you, covered in a thick layer of your arousal. It makes him drill into you faster, sitting properly against the bed’s headboard as he takes your hips with force. He’s too turned on to keep treating you so delicately, and the way you moan and pant at the increase in speed only lets him know you enjoy him like this way more. “I-Is it good, baby? Am I-I fucking you well?” He asks in between rapid thrusts, your thighs had given out by then.

You nod and a whimper escapes your lips, “Y-yes, Guk-Ah. S-so good, feels amazing.” Your praise is honest, the fucked out tone in your voice is a clear indicator of how well of a job he was doing. A minute longer and you’ll be right on cloud nine, never wanting to come back down. “Wanna cum Guk-Ah, plea—“ There’s no need for you to even finish your sentence because his thumb rubs your clit in figure eights, making you groan with the intensified feeling of his hips circling inside you deliciously. You can almost see the blinding white light ahead as Jungkook kisses you feverishly. You feel tears escape the corners of your high, the familiar feeling tickling inside you as Jungkook’s thrusts don’t let up. ‘‘Ah! Yes, yes, fuck,’’ you cry out once your orgasm hits. Jungkook holds you close to his chest, trying to soothe your shaking body with his arms. Your walls squeeze and relax continuously around him, it serves him as the impulse he needs to chase his own high.

‘‘I love you, Jungkook,’’ you confess in between panting breaths, ‘‘so much.’’

His release shoots out and he groans, digging crescent moons into your hips. You hiss at the sensation, but giggle at how his eyes are screwed shut and brows still furrowed together, as if he was holding on to the last of his orgasm. In reality, Jungkook is just hoping that once he opens his eyes you’ll still be in his arms. Your fingers tilting his head to face you are very much real, he sees spots once he opens his eyes as they adjust to the room’s lighting.

‘‘I love you too.’’ He says with a fixed gaze and you coo at how perfect this is.

You’re twenty-two when Jungkook’s finally yours.

You’re both twenty-three and it’s another weekend spent at his apartment, he’s been playing for three hours now and you’ve given up on having him pay attention to you. Deciding to switch your plan around and join him instead, if only he would let you play.

‘‘Jungkook, you said it was going to be my turn five rounds ago!’’ You complain with a pout, crossing your arms across your chest.

His gaze is still stuck on the T.V screen, ‘‘Baby, shhh, you’re gonna make me lose.’’ He mumbles as he tries to remain concentrated on the game in hand, but he can hear your humph’s from behind him, ‘‘Patience is a─’’

‘‘Virtue, yeah, who cares.’’ You interrupt him with a roll of your eyes, familiar with the saying a little too well. ‘‘Hope you remember that for later tonight,’’ you add in a mumble, but he doesn’t hear it because of the loud sounds coming from the game on the screen.

‘‘What did you say, babe?’’ He asks with a raised brow, hitting the buttons of the controller with expert ease.

‘‘I’ll call your mom and tell her you don’t wanna share.’’ You joke with a threatening voice, but Jungkook knows better than to take your words so lightly. He pauses the game and turns to look at you with an are you serious? expression on his face, you giggle as you’ve finally got what you wanted.

He apologizes by covering your face with kisses, pleading for you not to tell on him with his mom. You promise not to do so this time, knowing that the woman was probably tired of having to scold his son at his big age.

Plus, ever since Jungkook surprised you with the almost exact replica of the Valentine’s Day card you gave him all those year back, you’ve taken advantage to tease him even more knowing he’s at your beck and call. You always remind him that he came close because the stickers he used were not like the ones you had, but he remembered to add the hearts on the I’s so that’s good enough.

‘‘Alright you can play, but━!’’ He says after he finishes his attack of kisses, ‘‘I’ll be your guide, I can’t risk you messing my record up, no offense baby.’’ None taken as you nod excitedly, you’ll always take whatever chance he gives you.

Jungkook’s finally learned how to share his toys after all.

#heartsforbts #bangtanhq #btswritingcafe #jungkook smut #jungkook au #jungkook angst #jungkook fluff #jungkook scenario #jungkook fic #bts smut #f: year 22

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softomi · 3 years

Text

i like you so matcha

prompt: is it really a rivals to lovers if one likes the other?

pairing: osamu x reader

word count: 3.2k

general taglist: @graykageyama @tsumue @thesorebae @micasaessakusa @alouphen

Osamu wasn’t one to worry about competition; he had heard of the new café just a few stores down from his own restaurant and while he believed that the grand opening was nothing more than large interest, the hype reached his own workers. While he prides himself on providing a menu that is cost efficient and perfect for anyone; his workers seem to think that the new café combined low cost with high quality and aesthetics.

Again, Osamu wasn’t that interested in the new place until through the grapevine he heard they were selling onigiri. It wasn’t just any onigiri, apparently their take involved changing the color of the rice to add an artistic component. They were even going as far as shaping the onigiri into novelty orientations, one of his workers showcased the hello kitty onigiri.

Once more, Osamu tried to reason that it wasn’t interesting but he can’t help the sudden tick of his forehead when his brother walks right passed the windows of his restaurant only to emerge thirty minutes later with a to-go box of rainbow colored onigiri. It irked him even more when Atsumu had the audacity to sit at the counter and eat the onigiris with such happiness.

��Hey Samu, you think you could make some of these.” Osamu takes the box, promptly throwing it into the trash, eliciting a whine from Atsumu who declares that now he must wait another twenty minutes in line for more.

Osamu finds himself waiting in line with his brother. Atsumu cries that his stomach is hungry, but Osamu keeps his attention to how long the line is; it didn’t wrap around the block but it was fairly long enough to understand that the place was popular. The glow of the neon blue sign is just barely evident under the sun, but it must appear better under night conditions.

When he looks inside, he sees pristine white tables that balance with the brightly colored food; the chairs looked to have comfortable padding, some decorated with different colored pillows. There were mirrors displayed along the walls, one moon shaped, one stars, one of the sun, he takes it to understand that this was probably a theme of the café.

“We’re almost to the front!” Atsumu’s stomach growls the closer they get.

Osamu notices there’s decorative fairy lights along the window looking out into the street, the windowsill is large and he thinks it’s a good idea when he sees some customers using the space as a seating area. There’s a chalkboard used to display the menu behind the workers at the counter and even a small one at the cash register that lists the specials of the day.

Even as they find a seat, Osamu’s eyes are staring at the ceiling, how aesthetic, he thinks, there’s even a mirror above where they sat. He observes the customers, most are women but here and there are a few men; some with their lovers, some just here for the food. He can conclude that most of the hype of the place is from the aesthetic alone. It’s the perfect place for a photo opportunity with how decorated everything is.

“Order for Miya!”

Atsumu practically sprints to the counter and back. When Osamu tries to touch the food, Atsumu slaps his hand, “Wait! Let me take a picture!”

Osamu rolls his eyes; his brother has fallen into the trap that is the café. Atsumu takes five minutes to capture every angle that he can, even utilizing the ceiling mirror to get a picture of him and his brother with the food. Osamu takes note of Atsumu’s drink, clear plastic with a secure top; it allows you to see the different layers of the coffee but he knows once Atsumu mixes the drink it’ll turn green for the matcha flavor.

“Look!” Atsumu is shoving the cup in Osamu’s face, “There’s a design on the cup!” Atsumu’s eyes sparkle at the cute print of a Pokémon character, “That means I was one of the first hundred customers of the day.”

At this point, Osamu wants to applaud the aesthetic of the restaurant. Even taking the time to print on designs for customers as a novelty item to which they could boost about on social media, Osamu is impressed. But he reasons that the aesthetic of the place must hold to a high standard with the food.

So when he takes one of the onigiri’s, he’s ready to critique the flavor.

“Are you enjoying your meal?”

When Osamu looks up after taking a bite, the rice flows down the wrong pipe; he coughs loudly, wheezing at the way the salted salmon is a lump in his throat. Atsumu gives up his drink for his brother and Osamu nearly falls in love with the sweet taste of the matcha coffee.

“Are you alright?” Your hand is pressed on his shoulder, it moved from when you had been lightly hitting his back to help.

Osamu’s cough dies down as he watched you move to the counter; the workers listening intently to your words before nodding off.

“I’m sorry.” Osamu coughs for a last time as you approach the table.

Your hands are on your hips, a grin pressed neatly on your lips as you hold out a hand, “It’s my fault, I must have surprised you coming over all of a sudden. I’m the owner and you run Onigiri Miya don’t you?” Osamu feels sweat beat down the side of his face when he reaches out to grasp your hands, “I’m a big fan, you have great flavors, I can only hope that ours matches yours.”

Your attention turns to his twin, Atsumu gladly takes your attention, this gives Osamu time to collect himself. Osamu discoveries himself staring at you, you radiated a type of energy, one that he feels matches his own when it comes to running a business. The smile on your face makes him flush slightly and his palms remain sweaty from when he held your hand.

“It’s an honor to have a professional volleyball player eat at our establishment. We hope to see us on your social media page. One of my workers will bring over a free drink for the inconvenience.” Your head lowers in courtesy, waving to the men to continue their dining experience, “Oh and Mister Onigiri Miya, I’d love to bounce some ideas off you, I think we’d work great as partners for a few projects.”

Business partners was the last thing Osamu was going to agree to now that he had been up and close with the café; it’s been deemed a threat. It irked him when he saw you, a smile on your face as you wave to him early in the morning. His business seemed to always open and end with you, that’s how he discovered that even your hours of operation were the same as his.

It annoyed him when you visited, a large cup of matcha coffee in your hand as you offer it to him during the middle of lunch rush. It’s sweet when he drinks it, but he tries not to like it too much and he even tries to repress the craving for it on days when you don’t visit his shop. He even holds back the urge to visit the café when he really wants some matcha coffee.

He also finds it absolutely annoying how the parking spaces in front of his restaurant are always blocked by your customers. One time he stormed into your café, the workers were no stranger to his complaints. He’s automatically walking to your office in the back. When he can’t find you, he discovers you in a hidden kitchen meant for creative purposes.

“Oh, Miya Osamu. What can I do for you?” There’s rice on your cheek, your apron dirtied with minced ingredients, you wipe your hands on the ends of your apron to leave streaks of flour.

Osamu pushes aside the thought that he finds your hair pulled up cute, his hands on his waist as he puffs out his chest, “You need to do something about the parking situation! Your customers are parking in spots specifically meant for Onigiri Miya!”

You laugh, the back of your hand wiping against your cheek to remove the rice, “No problem! I’ll just put up signs on parking. Good?”

Osamu’s eyes twitch, the rice on your cheek is still stuck there and you can’t seem to find just where it is. He takes a step forward, fingers reaching out to graze the speck of rice and flick it off into another direction. You’re grinning.

“Thanks, did you want some coffee?” Your hand is already preparing a cup, pushing buttons on a machine as it spews out coffee, “I’m trying out some matcha and chocolate fusion drinks. I think I just figured out the perfect balance. Taste test?” You hold out the cup to him.

It’s sweet, just a perfect blend; absolutely beautiful. Osamu ends up taking the drink back to his restaurant, eyes staring at the cup with doodles of hearts and stars.

The next day, Osamu barges into your office stating that the music from your café is too loud, even though he’s three stores down, and none of his workers could hear anything but he’s insisted that the music is too distracting. He returns once more with a complimentary drink and a lighter mood than before.

“Isn’t he being too demanding?” One of your workers watches Osamu peer into the shop.

You’re smiling, already prepping the matcha drink, “I think it’s cute.”

“He’s acting like he’s part of the neighborhood watch committee.” Your worker stands straight up, “Good morning mister Miya, another complaint today?”

Osamu crosses his arms, lips in a thin line, “If you’re going to have your workers hand out flyers, I would prefer it if it wasn’t done in front of my restaurant.”

“Here’s your order.” The cup in your hand is stretched out to him.

“I didn’t.” Osamu frowns but his finger brush against yours when he reaches for the cup.

“I’ll be sure to tell them to stay closer to our café.” Despite him turning away, he flushes, “Have a great day Miya Osamu!” Your voice makes his ears go red.

The workers giggle when he turns around to thank you. It was painfully obvious that he had a crush on you. Excuses upon excuses as a way to step into your café and have brief moments with you. His eyes distracted by the cup, he runs into the door, giggles follow him as he leaves.

Osamu has himself crouched behind the counter, hands in his hair, hiding from the world. He remains a roadblock to his workers but they all move around him; he can’t possibly step back into your café after that embarrassing moment.

“It probably wasn’t that bad sir.” The worker has been waiting for five minutes trying to get one of the rice bags from behind Osamu.

Osamu digs his hands into his hair, “I basically face planted into the door.”

“Can I just get the rice please? We have orders.”

When Osamu stands to his feet, the wind gets knocked out of him. You wave from behind the counter and Osamu coughs as though he was busily trying to do something from under.

“Can I help you with something?”

You lean on your toes, it makes him want to delve just a little closer to you, “Yeah, there’s a car blocking one of our carry out spots, it has an Onigiri Miya sticker on the bumper so we thought maybe it was yours?”

Osamu facepalms, he had forgotten to move his car. He’s quick to round the counter, making his way to you until he feels it. He’s suddenly thrusted forward, unable to comprehend the wet floor sign before he’s tumbling right into you. Your hands steady his arms, Osamu’s find themselves clutching your waist. He was blushing madly, nose brushing against yours; customers and workers alike stare at the rather intimate hold.

“Are you alright?”

Osamu lets go but the step he takes back makes him slip, your arm stretches out to grasp him but it only sends you forward. Everyone gasps. Osamu lands on his ass, your body hovering over him and he’s blushing even harder now with your breath against his skin.

“I’m so sorry.” You pull away from him.

“It’s my fault.” Osamu dusts himself off, helping you to your feet, even holding your hand to try and balance the both of you, “Are you okay?”

Besides minor embarrassment, you grin to him, “Nothing I haven’t experienced before. Have you ever slipped and spilled rice in the middle of lunch rush, effectively getting grains of rice in everything?” Osamu laughs, “Truly one of my more embarrassing moments.”

He feels his heart suddenly more at ease, the restaurant goes back to their bustling conversations and the two of you walk out together. Osamu thinks to himself that the term rivals didn’t fit the category that he has you under in his head.

“It’s called love.” Atsumu draws the word out and Osamu smacks his arm, effectively making Atsumu bang his head against the table, “Dammit Samu! Stop doing that!”

“Stop being stupid then.”

Atsumu begins a snarky outcry of obscenities at his brother. He doesn’t mind it as he sees you walking past his restaurant. The sun makes it hard for you to notice him through the windows but he has a perfect view of you carrying boxes towards your café. Your steps halt as the top box begins to tilt, leaning the rest of the boxes in the same directions.

“I got you.” Osamu pushes the boxes, he takes the top half to balance in his hands, “I’ll help you.”

“Thanks.” You beam, “I see your brother is visiting.”

When Osamu looks at the window, Atsumu has his face pressed against the glass. His heavy breathing creating fog, “Samu!” It amuses you when Osamu knocks against the glass, sending Atsumu to jolt back, “Samu! Get me some onigiri from the café.”

“You’re literally in an Onigiri restaurant!” Osamu barks.

Your giggle pulls him along and as if cupid had struck him with fifty arrows, he follows you happily.

It came to no surprise for literally everyone when Osamu finally mustered up the courage to ask you out. In the after hours of work, he discovers you flipping chairs all by your lonesome; his hand knocks against the glass, it causes you to jump in surprise but it quickly fades when you see him motioning for the locked door.

“Where are all of your workers?” Osamu has begun to help turn the chairs onto the tables, something he’s accustomed to doing at his restaurant.

“I sent them home. I don’t like making them stay too late.”

Osamu thinks about how his workers are cleaning up at the moment; he follows you to the back, eyes trailing themselves over your body, he finds the way your hair is tied with ribbons to be cute and he wonders if you look just as cute with your hair down.

“Osamu?”

He blushes when you bring him back to reality, “Sorry, I was thinking about something.”

“I’m just finishing up some prep for tomorrow, you don’t have to stay.” Your hands dust flour onto the table, your fingers forming bagels for tomorrow’s breakfast rush.

Osamu stands next to you, he curiously takes a piece of dough, following your hand movements to form the bagel shape, “This is the first time I’ve formed bagels.”

“Really?” You glance at him, “You’re a natural, I’d definitely hire you as a chef.” Unexpectedly, Osamu feels your hand hold over his, “You just need to make sure it’s all uniform. I don’t think my customers would enjoy bagels that are one size five times bigger than another.”

It’s another two hours before you two finish forming and proofing the bagels for the next day. He waits outside the doors of your café, he can clearly see his workers are just about to leave too, they snicker seeing him waiting outside. He quickly motions for them to go away, when the door chimes, he pretends as though he was just about to scratch his head.

“Thanks for the help.” Your hair falls past your shoulders, Osamu wishes time would stop for a second so he could run his fingers through them. It’s just the two of you standing on the empty street, the lamps barely doing you justice, “I’ll see you tomorrow then.”

“Wait.” Osamu tugs on your sleeve, “Do you want to have dinner with me? Or will you? I mean, you don’t have to but if you want to.”

“Are you asking me out?”

Osamu gulps, “Are willing to go out with me?”

He may have reached another level of joy when you clasp onto his arm, “Duh! You’re a little slow but you got there eventually.”

Osamu lets you drag him along the sidewalk, opting for a place nearby rather than driving elsewhere. He can’t help the smile of content on his face watching you stuff your mouth with food. The meal is comfortable and nice; but the date is absolutely, blissfully, perfect. At the end of the night, he walks you to your car, hands dug deep into his pockets and he isn’t sure if he should shamelessly kiss you or do the awkward hug and goodbye.

“Are you thinking if you should kiss me or hug me?” You laugh when he looks at you bewildered.

“Are you reading my mind?”

You lean forward, a whisper on you, “It’s a secret superpower I have.” The both of you chuckle and before he can register it, you stand on your toes, pressing a quick kiss onto his cheek. You open the door to your car as he blushes profoundly, “Normally I don’t kiss on the first date, the one on the cheek is just a guilty pleasure, because you’re cute.”

Osamu knew from the beginning that the competition shouldn’t have been one to worry about. What he should have been worried about was how cute the owner was.

“Uh-oh, here comes leader of the neighborhood watch committee.” Your workers snicker seeing him strut into the café, “Good morning mister Miya.”

“I have a complaint.” Osamu crosses his arms, eyes staring at you. He leans forward, “I’d prefer it if you kept your hair down.” His fingers pull on the ribbon in your hair, your strands fall to your shoulders.

On your toes, your lips meet his from over the counter; there’s a hum in him, “We take complaints here very seriously.” You steal the ribbon from his fingers, “But you know I can’t be walking around with my hair down.”

“I have a solution.” He situates a hat that he’s made appear out of no where onto your head. He pushes strands of your hair behind your ears and fixes the hat’s strap to fit nicely onto your head, “Perfect.”

You roll your eyes to your boyfriend, “It says Onigiri Miya on the hat doesn’t it.”

Osamu happily claps his hands, “Product placement.”

“You’re so shameless!” You set the drink in front of him, “Cash or card?”

Osamu scoffs, “You’re making me pay now?”

“Yup.” You wink to him, “It’s what boyfriends do.”

“You boyfriend trapped me with free matcha coffee.” Osamu takes the drink, pressing a kiss on your lips quickly, “Put it on my tab.”

“You literally don’t have a tab, Samu!” He’s laughing as he runs away with the drink, turning around to blow you a kiss before running off to his restaurant to prepare for the lunch rush.

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