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nolita-fairytale · 1 year

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still into you | carmen 'carmy' berzatto x fem!reader | chapter one: thursday

summary: you, syd, marcus, and carmy return to where it all began: new york city, prompting you and carmy to think a lot about your past... and your future together. (four part series | follow-up to 'make my heart surrender)

warnings: lots of swearing, tooth-rotting fluff, use of she/her pronouns, the lightest of smut, no use of y/n, second person pov

word count: 5k

listen to: 91 - bleachers | now i'm in it - haim | bewitched, bothered, and bewildered - ella fitzgerald (playlist here)

a/n: re: the poll -- yall really said 'let this man be happy please!' and i love that for us. if you voted for the other fic, i want to reassure you that i will be writing that one right after this! please enjoy all of the fluff and joy of this four chapter fic. i also feel like i potentially robbed us of a smut scene so... anyone interested in a bonus smut scene as a companion to this chapter?

Thursday

“Alright, guys. We only have a few hours to get our day one prep done. I’ve outlined a schedule for today so that we’re as efficient as possible. Tomorrow’s gotta go smooth, alright?” Carmy instructs, laying out the day.

You listen intently, marveling at your boyfriend in-action. He’s so fearless when he’s in his element, and being back in New York just seems to bring back all the memories of how you met. It’s like you’re twenty seven again, huddling up for a pre-shift meeting, led by recently-promoted wunderkind CDC, Carmen Berzatto.

Only, you’re not twenty seven anymore and Carmy is the love of your life.

“I’m gonna start with the mise for our beef dish, so Syd, can you get working on our signature veal stock? I think we should work with one in the pressure cooker just in case we get short on time and have a back up,” Carmy directs, an intense determination filling his eyes.

He looks from Sydney to Marcus, before continuing his orders.

“Marcus, I need you to start on the ice cream today, chef. I ordered us some liquid nitrogen if we need to make more on the fly, but I’d really prefer not to.”

And then it’s your turn, and boy, do you love to watch him work. You have to fight the corners of your lips from curling into a broad grin because you know now is not the time.

“And lastly, I’m gonna have you work on the pasta. My goal is for us to get all of the agnolotti assembled today, so I’ll jump in when I wrap up with my mise to help you with that, yeah?”

“Heard,” the three of you answer in unison.

Everyone’s got their game faces on because this is a big deal.

The biggest, actually.

Representing The Bear at the James Beard House is more than a big deal – it’s an honor. Only a handful of chefs get invited to cook here per year, and after a little fancy footwork in terms of scheduling, the four of you were finally able to agree on a date with the famous organization. You’re more than elated to be a part of the team, even if you aren’t working at The Bear anymore.

The four of you quickly busy yourselves with setting up your stations. You only have a few hours to accomplish a whole lot of prep, and the pressure sits heavily on each of your shoulders. Tickets to the dinner had sold out within the first hour, which, after all the press, accolades, and media attention the restaurant had earned over the last few years, hadn’t been a huge surprise.

“Think you can keep up, chef? Don’t tell me you’re gettin’ rusty on me,” Marcus quips, already starting the playful trash talking early.

You let out a laugh, before challenging him in jest.

“Damn, Marcus. Hasn’t been that long. Bet I can still kick your ass on a ‘beat the clock’ mise, chef.”

“Oooooh. Shots fired,” Sydney calls out, joining in on your friendly banter.

“Challenge accepted,” Marcus shoots back, almost instantly.

And then you’re scrambling to get as many prep containers and a kitchen scale, as you race your friend and mentee, all in good fun.

You’ve missed this.

It’s only been a few months since you started your new job – a culinary education director at a startup intent on building more sustainable food systems. While your heart would always be at the restaurant, you’d been ready to take on new challenges. The salary pay and benefits didn’t hurt either. You were happy taking a grown-up job, craving a little more stability and normalcy – and so that you and Carmy could stop paying out the ass for health insurance. Besides, you were still working with food. It just looked… well, a lotta different these days.

You’ve missed the fast pace of the kitchen, your people, and Carmy’s desire for excellence, but it’s not like those things have left your life either. You still have them.

After you’d left the restaurant, Marcus had taken over as the head pastry chef. In the last few months, you’ve watched him mentor and inspire a new group of wide-eyed, green, chefs-in-the-making, which had made you prouder than you’d ever have the words for.

You can smell the sharp-allium scent of onions, as Syd quarters them for her stock, and while you have several cartons of eggs and 00 flour, Marcus has gathered all the milk that you’d just purchased for today’s prep.

“Behind,” Carmy says. He passes you by with a few 5 qt storage containers stacked, as he hugs them to his body with one arm.

You feel his other hand place the gentlest touch on the small of your back as he leans in and whispers in your ear, “It’s good to have you back, chef.”

You smile, turning your head just enough to lean back to look at him.

“It’s good to be back, chef.”

He presses the gentlest, slow kiss to your lips, and it feels like time stops for a moment. As he pulls away from you, there’s a small smirk on his face as Sydney shouts, “Oh get a room, you two!”

“If we had the time…” he murmurs quietly, planting one more soft peck onto your lips. His face is still only inches away from yours. You giggle in response, the tender moment filling your heart with warmth.

“Speaking of time… I just bought Marcus a head start,” Carmy teases, your jaw dropping as soon as you realize what he’s doing.

You pull away from him, your head snapping towards Marcus’ direction to see that he’s already filled a 5 qt container to its capacity with one portion of the milk.

“Seriously? Damn it, Carmy!” you cry out, shaking your head. “This is sabotage!”

You hear Marcus laugh in the background and as Carmy walks away with a cheeky feeling of accomplishment. You shake your head in disbelief.

“Sorry, babe. You can deal with a little hazing, yeah? Since you’ve been gone for so long. Gotta give my guy a head start. ‘S only fair.”

“You’re such a dick,” you scowl, scrambling to catch up.

Oh it is so on.

By the time you’re done with your day one prep, the four of you head to the hotel. Luckily, it’s only a five minute walk away, and you’re grateful that the James Beard Foundation chose to partner with one so close. The four of you pull your suitcases down the streets of Greenwich Village, before arriving at the luxurious, vintage-inspired hotel.

You’re eager to get up to your room, as you haven’t had a shower, nor a time to take a break since you all arrived.

“Woah…” Carmy says, his brilliant blue eyes scanning the high end hotel room. “You sure we can afford this?”

You chuckle, “I think uh… they have a partnership with the James Beard Foundation, which is the only way I can answer your question with a ‘yes’ without having to tell you that we have to sell an arm, a leg, and our first born.”

He shoots a half smile in your direction before letting out a whistle as he looks around. The floor to ceiling windows feel way outside of anything you could afford, as Carmy spots the French doors that lead right out onto a terrace. As you continue to explore the rest of the room, you spot a huge tub in the bathroom – something you’re very eager to take advantage of.

“Power nap?” you ask Carmy, setting down your suitcase in the middle of the room.

You’ll put your things away later.

“Fuck yeah,” he agrees eagerly.

You’ve barely put your book bag down before you’re both stripping off your jeans and climbing into the perfectly made hotel bed. After spending the morning traveling, you, Sydney, Marcus, and Carmy had gotten off the plane at JFK and gone straight to the James Beard House in Greenwich. Not only had Carmy been antsy to see the kitchen and get a head start on prep, you hadn’t been able to check into your hotel till this afternoon. You’re both spent, and you know that Carmy’s been running himself ragged preparing for this once in a lifetime opportunity. He hasn’t been sleeping all that well either– his thoughts consumed with nailing down the perfect menu, while paralyzed with indecision.

His quest for perfection had made him irritable over the last few days. You could see that the pressure was getting to him. His appetite was down, he was picking fights with you about small, unnecessary things at home, and pushing Sydney (sometimes a little too hard) at the restaurant.

But today, he seems a little more in control of his feelings, and it puts him a little more at ease now that you’re finally in New York. He knows he’s been driving you crazy all week, and now that you’re all here, he’s hoping he can relax a little.

Now that you’re here, in the city.

Now that the dinner is only a day and a half away.

You’re hoping he’ll slow down at some point too – give himself a little time to enjoy how big of an accomplishment this is. At least by the end of the weekend. Frankly, you’re glad you’ll have Saturday to enjoy the city without any pressure.

For all of your sakes.

You’re surprised that Carmy falls asleep with you during your late afternoon nap. He’s been so wired, so high strung lately, but you’ve just been waiting for him to come back down. Now that it seems like he is, there’s no way in hell you’re going to wake him up. You’re curled up together when you wake, your back pressed against his chest, his arms enveloping you. It feels almost impossible to pry yourself out of his arms without waking him up, but his deep slumber confirms your suspicions and you’re more than willing to let him continue sleeping. It takes a few tries to slip out of his embrace, but you do, and it’s off to the bathroom to get ready for dinner.

You try to make as little noise as possible, but by the time you're out of the shower, and your hair has been blown dry, Carmy’s up. You can hear the hotel TV on as you exit the bathroom and see he’s put his jeans back on. He’s perched on the edge of the bed, still rubbing the sleep from his eyes. You notice that the dark circles under his eyes that have accumulated over the years seem to sit heavier this week, as his eyes flicker over towards you.

“Damn, my girl’s got style,” he compliments, checking out your all black-ensemble. “We really are back in New York, huh?”

You nod, grinning at his sweet compliment, as you sit down to slip your white sneakers on.

“You meetin’ up with Liz and Maya tonight?” he asks you.

“Yeah. Syd’s gonna join for a bit before her thing. She should uh… be here any minute, actually.” You begin tying up the shoelaces of one of your shoes, before slipping the other one on.

“You sure you don’t want to come?”

“Nah I-, I'll see ‘em tomorrow right? But tell ‘em I say ‘hello’.”

“Of course. I think they’re both really looking forward to seeing you.”

You check the time on your phone making sure you have enough time, before you make your way to where Carmy sits on the edge of the bed.

“What’re you going to do tonight?” you ask, curiously, stopping so that your body is right in front of his.

“Well Marcus is staging at per se so… I’ll probably just hang out. Order room service or pick up a sandwich across the street. I wanna run through all this shit so tomorrow goes as well as it can,” Carmy answers, waving his notebook at you.

He’s like a man possessed, but it’s one of the many reasons you love him. You pull the notebook out of his hands tossing it somewhere on the bed behind you. You place your knees on each side of his hips, before settling down on top of him.

“Think you can relax a little tonight?”

He pulls you in, his arms moving over your hips. Carmy leans in, placing a small kiss against your glossy lips.

“Think you can help me with that?”

You giggle in response, twisting your fingers into the curls at the nape of his neck.

“I think… that could be arranged.”

Before anything too spicy can happen, there’s a knock at the door and you know it’s Syd. Carmy groans as you pull away, falling back onto the bed with a sigh of defeat. You climb off of him, heading to answer the door.

“Hey, you ready?” Sydney asks, as you greet her.

“Yeah, let me just grab my phone,” you reply, stepping aside to let her in.

As she enters the hotel room, Carmy’s sitting up. With his feet planted firmly on the ground, he leans over, resting his forearms on his legs as he runs a hand through his messy curls.

Sydney looks from you to a somewhat pouty Carmy, as if she knows she interrupted something.

“Staying in tonight, Carm?” she asks him, as you gather your things.

“Yeah,” he grumbles, and you can’t help but notice how tired he looks.

Sydney rolls her eyes in response, “Don’t worry. I’ll have her back by nine.”

“Alright, I’m ready,” you say with a smile as you address Sydney.

“You guys have fun,” Carmy nods, with a half assed wave.

“Don’t work too hard, boss,” Sydney adds, as the two of you turn to leave. “Oh and Carmy. You’ve got a little…” She gestures towards the lipstick you’ve left on his face.

You laugh in response, and as you close the door, Carmy can hear Sydney’s ‘oh my god, you two are like rabbits’ comment in the distance.

Carmy allows himself to fall back on the bed, reaching above his head to grab his notebook again. He’s honestly grateful to have a night to himself. He’s never been much for going out, or big social events, so having a night in feels like a good kind of calm before the storm – especially because the next few days will be full of social interactions. He’d always found New York City a little overstimulating.

Between the dinner and the reception on Saturday, Carmy felt like he was collapsing under the enormous pressure – his only out being excellence. It’s not just the fact that being invited to cook at the James Beard house was a once in a lifetime opportunity, but there’s important business to announce here too. And then there’s the social aspect of it all, and he can’t help but feel like there are high expectations: from the food world, his reputation, your old friends from New York. And he wants to make everyone happy – he wants to impress them all.

Something about being back here, and being back here with you, has him caught up in his head about it all. This is where you’d met. It’s also where he’d been at his lowest – right before Mikey died. So much has changed, and Carmy feels too large for his old battlefield.

Because that’s what it had been for him: a battlefield.

A battle for his mental health, to rise to the top of the New York City fine dining scene, fighting with his feelings for you.

Over the last two years, he had learned that he didn’t have to fight every single damn day. Some days he could just… be – be himself, whatever the fuck that meant, be a friend, and be with you. It felt strange – familiar and unfamiliar at the same time. Being back here makes him somehow feel like the total loser he was six years ago when he first arrived in NYC… and a completely different person at the same time.

While he was over the moon when he got the call from the James Beard Foundation, he also couldn’t fight this uncomfortable feeling that’s been sitting in his stomach all week long. Carmy had never quite been able to come to terms with the whole ‘celebrity’ aspect of the food world. He knew what he could do in the kitchen. That was unquestionable. But the rest of it – the networking, the celebrity chef circles – was the part he felt most unsure about.

Ever since Sydney’s Rising Star win, he’d let her take center stage with her rising visibility in the culinary world. Actually, he’d been grateful that she was so good at it – that it seemed like she enjoyed the part of the job he hated. There was someone to take the pressure off of him – someone who thrived in front of the camera so that he didn’t have to. But he knows at some point this weekend, he’ll have to face the music.

There were big changes coming to The Bear.

It didn’t take long after the initial introductions for your friends to fawn over Sydney. They were more than happy to meet your friend they’d heard all about, and the incredible chef who was shaking up the Chicago food scene.

“Well I’m glad to hear that some things have changed and that working with Carmy’s not a total nightmare any longer-?” Liz concludes your conversation about the restaurant, earning an eye roll from Maya and a laugh from both you and Sydney.

“Oh no it’s still tough sometimes,” Sydney says back. “He has his days. We all do.”

“Liz!” you protest, in regards to the Carmy-bashing.

“What?! You didn’t have to work directly under him back then!” she defends herself, before clarifying with Sydney. “And in his defense, Sydney, it was really our exec chef who was the real nightmare.”

“Oh she works directly under him, alright,” Maya jokes, raising an eyebrow at you.

“And sometimes on top of him, and also-,” you quip back, ready to play along.

“Oh my god, you’re out of control and I am sick of you!” Sydney exclaims with a laugh in reference to your crass comment.

“So tell us more about the new restaurant,” Maya prompts, refocusing the conversation back to Sydney’s previous reveal.

Sydney tells your friends about The Bear’s plans to expand, and shares ideas she has that even you haven’t heard from Carmy yet. As she wraps up her story, she realizes what time it is, meaning that she’s gotta head uptown soon. She really only was supposed to stay for a glass of wine, but meeting your friends has been so fun that she’s lost track of time.

“Shit. I have to head out,” she says. “But I’ve really loved meeting you guys. You’re coming to the dinner tomorrow night, right?”

“Wouldn’t miss it.”

“Absolutely.”

“And the reception!” you add gleefully, so glad you get to see your best friends three days in a row.

“It’s been really great meeting you, Sydney,” Liz says, shooting you a look of approval. She squeezes your hand under the table momentarily, before saying, “Thanks for taking care of our girl. She speaks so highly of you.”

“Where are you off to next?” Maya asks, excitedly.

“Syd’s got dinner plans,” you answer, waiting for Sydney to provide more detail.

“Yeah, I uh-, I got invited to one of the To Be Hosted events and it just worked out that we’d be in town for this the same weekend,” Sydney replies, a glimmer of excitement flashing through her eyes as she shares.

“Damn, you got invited to a supper club?” Liz marvels. “Okay!”

“Yeah because she’s a rockstar,” you cheer your friend on, saying it so matter of factly that even a stranger would believe you.

You all say your goodbyes to Sydney before ordering food. It feels so good to be back in the city, back here with some of your best friends. Maya and Liz had been the friends that held you up, and you them, when you lived here. While you had met Liz at your last job, a sous chef under Carmy’s leadership, Maya worked in fashion and the two of you had become fast friends after meeting through an ex-boyfriend. Once you introduced the two of them to each other, the three of you had been inseparable ever since.

They had always been your biggest cheerleaders – especially when it came to you and Carmy.

“She’s great,” Maya says, in reference to Sydney.

“Right? I’m so excited for her. This is a huge deal: create her own menu, a chance to run kitchen without Carmy…” you agree, feeling deep satisfaction over the amazing people you have in your life. “We’re announcing the big news at the dinner tomorrow.”

“Speaking of, how is our favorite guy? What’s he up to tonight?” Maya asks, guiding the conversation back to Carmy.

“I told him he could come but I think he wanted to stay in tonight. I think he needs some time to decompress. He’s been pretty high strung all week,” you answer.

“Carmy? High strung?” Liz asks back sarcastically, earning a laugh from you. “I’m kidding! I really am looking forward to seeing him tomorrow.

Maya shakes her head, before taking a sip of her glass of wine. She’s always adored Carmy, but knows that Liz has a different relationship with him, having worked as a line cook.

“You guys are… getting serious, huh?” Liz asks, glancing over at you.

“Um.. I think those two were married after their first coffee date,” Maya adds.

“It was not a date!” you insist, shooting her a look.

Liz lets out an unconvinced laugh, and you accept defeat because you know they’ve always been right about you and Carmy.

“Maya, don’t forget. Our girl is and has always been the Queen of Denial,” Liz adds, winking in your direction.

“Oh ha-ha. You guys are so funny,” you reply dryly. You nod, thinking about you and Carmy’s relationship over the last few years. “Yeah uh… it’ll be three years in the Fall so… you could say it’s getting pretty serious.”

Your friends are beaming back at you in response to your admission, and while you’d love to spend all night talking about how head over heels you are for Carmy, you’re also kind of ready to shift the attention off of you and your relationship.

“Enough about me. What’s going on with you guys?” you change the subject.

It feels so good to catch up with your girl friends. You all agree to make it an early night. While Maya’s husband had agreed to put their kid to bed, she wants to make it home in time anyways. Liz has a date later, and before you know it, you’ve wrapped up dinner and are walking back to your hotel. You send Carmy a quick text, because you’re only a few blocks away.

You: On the way back.

New York City has always been so inspiring to you. The city itself feels alive – like there’s an electric undercurrent that always makes you feel so full. There’s never a dull moment, and it feels as if the potential for a wild adventure is always around the corner. It’s also the place that you and Carmy met, all those years ago. It’s funny. The version of you that met him six years ago never could’ve predicted this: that you’d actually get to be here together, after almost three years of loving each other fiercely.

Your friends were and always have been right about you.

Back then, you were Queen of Denial and even then, Carmy had been your king.

But you’re here now: in the city you met in, stupidly in love with the man you’d met six years ago who had seemed terrified to merely have a conversation with you.

Your phone buzzes in your hand, interrupting your trip down memory lane, as you peek at the text you just received.

Carmy: Went out for a walk and a smoke.

You type back a quick, yet short reply.

You: Love you.

When you return to the hotel room, you enjoy the quiet of the evening. It still feels like spring in NYC, so you open a window because it just feels too damn good outside. No wonder he’d gone for a walk. You kick your shoes off, placing them gently by the door, before stripping off your jacket and heading into the bathroom.

As you pull your hair up and out of your face, piling it into one conglomerate on top of your head, you eye the large bathtub you’d admired earlier. Not only are you in need of a relaxing soak, but you’re hoping you can persuade Carmy to join you – maybe even help him destress a little. You don’t think twice about it, as you strip off all of your clothes, sliding on one of the fluffy robes that the hotel has provided. You flip on the hot water, the sound of rumbling water against tile hitting your ears.

There’s a bath soak in a glass jar that you find on the bathroom counter, before adding it to the increasingly hot water. While it looks like a mixture of some kind of soak and epsom salt, large bubbles begin to form underneath the rapid stream of the faucet, and you inhale deeply.

Lavender. Vanilla. Chamomile, maybe?

The smell puts you at ease and you can feel your shoulders melting away from your ears.

It’s not long before Carmy returns, the bathtub is almost at its capacity and the bath soak that you put in the hot water has bubbled up and blossomed into large, sudsy configurations. You’ve put on a jazz playlist, the sounds of Ella Fitzgerald filling the small space as you hum along.

“Babe?” Carmy calls out to you, as you hear the front door close behind him.

“I’m in here,” you call to him, turning the volume of your phone down a few levels. .

You hear a shuffle of shoes, before he’s peeking around the door frame, his eyes lighting up as soon as he sees you. He knows it’s silly. It’s not like he’s been able to be very present over the last week, and it begins to dawn on him that he’s missed you.

“How was your walk?” you ask softly.

“Good.”

He looks around the bathroom, the air thick with humidity from the hot water. You turn the faucet off, as you’ve now filled the tub to its capacity.

“You look comfy.”

“I am. It’s a very comfy robe.”

You wait a beat before preparing your ask.

“Big tub,” you entice him, gesturing towards the bubble bath that awaits you.

“Yeah?” he asks, a half smile on the edges of his lips as he takes a step towards you.

“Big enough for two,” you nod, making your case.

It’s all the convincing he needs. You’re removing your robe, leaving your bare body on display for him to see, and soon enough, he’s stripping down and climbing into the bathtub with you. You share an awkward laugh as the two of you clumsily figure out how to position yourselves for optimal comfort. Your back is pressed against his chest, and you’re truly in awe of the large bathtub that somehow holds the both of you.

It becomes progressively easier for Carmy to relax. Between the hot water, and your naked body pressed against his, thoughts and worries about tomorrow begin to slip away. The two of you enjoy the quiet intimacy between you, the soft sounds of your favorite jazz standards, and Carmy’s lazily dragging his fingertips across any bit of exposed skin that he can.

You lean your head back against his shoulder, and Carmy buries his face in the crevice where your neck and shoulders meet.

“Why don’t we do this more often?” he asks, in between leaving a few slow-paced, soft kisses across your shoulders.

“Hm?” you hum in response. From the way his mouth and hands move across your body, and the silky feeling of the hot water, you barely have a thought left in your head.

“This whole… bath thing,” he clarifies, exhaling a deep sigh.

This may be the most relaxed he’s felt all week and he likes that you seem to be enjoying this too.

“Probably because we have a tub that I can only assume was built for a small show dog,” you joke.

He laughs dryly.

“Fair enough.”

Carmy waits a beat before speaking again, enjoying how his mind has quieted for the first time in days.

“Let’s put it on the list… for when we’re ready to move to a new place,” he suggests, quietly.

“Somewhere with a big tub?” you ask, only sort of surprised by his request.

“Yeah.”

You turn your head to look at him, as Carmy presses a searing kiss to your lips. You feel his hand snake between your legs and you begin to understand exactly why he’s enjoying this whole bath thing.

“As much as I’m enjoying this…” he whispers against your lips. “Think you maybe want to get out of this tub…”

Another kiss.

“… dry off…”

You slide your tongue against his as his fingertips move higher up your inner thigh, earning a hiss of pleasure from you.

“…not put our clothes back on?”

And then he’s swallowing your moans in his mouth, as he continues his exploration. Your head is spinning, and it’s not just the hot water that makes you feel as if your soul was set aflame.

“Yes.”

The next morning, you wake up alone. On the bedside table there’s a note in Carmy’s scratchy handwriting that reads:

Couldn’t sleep. Went to Chelsea Market. Love you.

You let out a frustrated sigh. Last night had been incredible but you also knew it’d be back to the grind today. While you’re excited for him – and for tonight – you’re also kind of ready for this to be over. You’re ready to have your boyfriend back.

read: bonus smut scene | chapter two

taglist: @allthefandomstogether @gaysludge @sobshoney @harrysmatcha @starbritestarlite @tpwkkmila

#carmen berzatto x you #carmy berzatto #carmy x oc #the bear hulu #the bear fx #jeremy allen white #carmen 'carmy' berzatto #carmy berzatto x reader #carmen berzatto x reader #carmen berzatto #carmy berzatto headcanon #the bear headcanon #carmy berzatto imagines #carmy berzatto fluff #make my heart surrender

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gojocumdumpster · 29 days

Note

Can I please have Jack, Hanayama, and Baki reacting to us getting a lot of male attention when wearing their favorite colors?

Yes you can pookie‼️

Warnings: jealously

Type of story:🎂🌹

Don’t come after if that’s not there fav colors, i asked her and thats what she told so don’t come after me or her or there will be problems🥰

Afab reader

Jack

We all know jack and hanayama do not play!!! If they even glimpse at you it’s end game.

-You and jack were planning on going out to run errands, you were feeling yourself so you put a blue dress on that hugged all your curves. There would be stares here and there but there was just one that threw him off. He looked back and it was just this dude just staring like he never seen a figure like yours…A knot formed in Jack’s stomach as he clenched his jaw, his protective instincts flaring. His grip on your hand tightened imperceptibly as they navigated the bustling city. With each passing glance from another man, Jack’s jealousy simmered beneath the surface. He stopped and told you to wait in the car as he said he forgot something in a store, couple punches,stomps here and there and yall were good to go!

Hanayama

-Hanayama was usually unfazed by the attention others paid to you, he couldnt shake the unease settling in his chest. The black dress clung to all your curves in all the right places, accentuating your beauty in a way that left him both proud and uneasy. You guys were at a restaurant finishing up entrees, he wanted to show you off a little bit so he decided to get seated in the public instead of a private room. He was alright with stares here and there but across from you there was a man who just wouldn’t stop? Hanayama would stare dead at his eyes, you realized something was wrong but everytime you asked he would say nothing is wrong. That was until the dude got up to use the bathroom, so did hanayama. You looked back knowing what’s gonna happen, 6 minutes pass he holds his hand out signaling that it’s time to go. He stares down the women that the man sat down with as he walked off.

Baki

You and baki were having a picnic at this famous park everyone loved to go too. You guys sat down by the lake looking at the ducks. You wore this cute red dress that Baki begged you not to wear but you still gave the dress a chance. There would be bystanders walking pass complimenting you. It didn’t faze him at all but until this dude stood up against this tree from the side of you pretending to be on his phone and he would look up and just stare. Baki suggested you guys should switch places as his big body would block him from seeing you. But that was until he got closer and Baki was like oh hell no. He gave you his card to get ice cream that was across the park as you got up and walked away, baki got up and walked towards the dude and dragged him by his shirt to the public bathrooms and boy was it bloody.

@jack-hammered

#baki headcanons #baki x reader #baki the grappler x reader #pickle baki #baki hanma #baki son of ogre #baki dou #baki the grappler

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soufcakmistress · 1 year

Text

In the Heat of the Night

A/N: Babies what is good!!!! I am so rusty but I’m so happy that I got this out for yall. Yall know I love me some Jonathan Majors, but I don’t write for real life folks. That’s just MY preference, no shade to those who do. Please comment and like and reblog to let me know how yall feel. Let’s get into it!

The south side felt different duting the summer. Kids were out of school, frolicking in the streets and turning on the fire hydrants. The ice cream man made several stops throughout the neighborhood, the old heads played their card games and dominoes until the wee hours of the morning, and the bars stayed packed with ladies and gents to take a load off. Summertime Chi felt larger than life.

Delphine Freeman sat up in her bed and stretched her arms to the sky. Looking behind her, she saw an empty bed with nothing but a small note on her husband’s pillow. “Picking up some things for breakfast. Be back soon, my love.” She picked it up and held it to her heart. That man of hers.

Delphine remembers the first time she encountered Atticus. Her family had just moved from Virginia, and she was totally new to the Midwest. At first, it was hard making friends at a new high school in a new place. Her accent and bumpkin ways attracted the wrong kind of attention among these city folks, so she kept to herself. Until one day when Atticus was helping his club attract new members, and he passed a flyer to her in the hallway. “You should come. Who knows, you might find a friend here.” He had her, hook line and sinker with his gentle way and sweet smile.

Atticus looked like 6 days of beautiful creation from God above AND the seventh day of rest to her - she missed seeing his face this morning. Delphine laid back against the pillow that smelled like him and reminisced on their roller coaster ride of a relationship. Fighting entitled white people over magic and who it really belonged to and his birthright, his trauma from Korea and monsters straight out of a pulp book— nobody with sense would ever believe it. The storm was over now, and her and Tic lived in peace, as well as holy matrimony.

The memory of her betrothed looking so debonair in his suit on their wedding day made her heart palpitate. Her legs squeezed together, recalling those shoulders filling out that blazer and kissing those lips as they said ‘I do’. She especially loved the surprise on his face when the ceremony was over and she slipped her hand in his pants right outside their wedding suite and him allowing her to take what was hers. “Oooh, I love that man.”

She was feeling frisky now. The window was cracked with a moderate breeze flowing into the room but Delphine’s heat couldnt be contained. Flashes of him saving his entire family from catastrophe, him shirtless and bespectacled reading aloud one of his favorite pulp books while he laid in her lap, the look of adoration and love when they bought their home on the South Shore. Tic was all man….and all hers.

Sweat dripped between her large breasts, her coochie ached in the best way and she couldn’t take it anymore. Delphine took Tic’s pillow and put it in between her legs. The reflection of her in the vanity bureau with her slinky nightgown raised up on her hips made her feel like she was a bit unhinged. If she didn’t cum now, she would lose it. So she rode that pillow like its name was Atticus Freeman and he was the only thing that could satiate her.

Her clit hit the seam of the pillow so precisely, it almost took her over before she was ready. “Shit, shit….oooh Tic baby…damn..” She pushed the straps down from her nightgown to expose her breasts and she really got to moving.

The key in the front door lock clicked with Tic lumbering in with a couple brown paper bags of breakfast stuff. He went to the kitchen to put everything away, but could have sworn that he heard something from the shared master bedroom. He got the baseball bat they kept in the coat closet and inched toward the room. Tic pushed the door in slightly and what he was met with could have knocked him on his back.

His sexy ass wife rubbing her pussy in figure 8’s on his pillow. Tic made sure to be quiet putting the bat along the wall, and rubbing his crotch slowly to take Delphine in. He knew when she showed signs of her incoming orgasm— shaking her head back and forth, fingers tangled in her hair, stomach fluttering…..she was almost there. When she finally shouted in delight, he couldn’t take it anymore.

The sound of a zipper coming down and broke her out of her trance. Delphine gasped when she saw her fine ass husband staring with bedroom eyes and pouty lips that made her wanna howl to the moon. “Looking for this?” He pulled his dick out of his pants and a deluge of fresh slick coated the meeting place between her legs.

Delphine almost started up again on the pillow but when the object of her deepest affections was just as hungry for her, it would be criminal to not take advantage. “Damn straight. Bring yo ass over here, four eyes.”

BB King played on the kitchen radio, and the lovely couple made breakfast together. Tic already put on a hot pot of coffee, and he sipped on a mug as he fried up some bacon. Delphine stood next to him in one of his shirts and panties, making her famous blueberry pancakes. Both hummed along and caught cute ass glances at each other, floating on their sensual high. It felt so good. Not having to worry about what the next day held and being allowed to just live.

The phone rang while Tic started cracking eggs, and he wiped his hands on the tea towel. “Freeman Residence. Lester, my man! What’s shaking? Nothing much brother, just me and the Mrs. making some breakfast. She’s doing VERY well, I’ll let her know you asked about her.” Delphine turned around with feigned shock when he said that, knowing his subtext and that he blew her back out for the ages just twenty minutes ago. She walked over with a huge smile and popped a blueberry in his mouth and kissed his lips.

He pinched her butt when she went back to the stove and finished chatting it up with Lester. “Sunday? We’ll be there brother. See ya then.” Tic looked at the calendar on the wall next to the phone, to see if there was any extra obligations needed for the guidebook and his aunt Hippolyta. He also did some math and tried to remember his wife’s last cycle. “That’s why she’s so frisky…”

Lester had a block party over where he stayed in Bronzeville, and it was jumping! All kinds of rhythm and blues and guitar singers filled the south side with a plethora of food to choose from. Little girls playing jacks and double Dutch, little boys doing bike races, the teenagers making googly eyes at each others and the elders trading recipes for lemonade and greens. Everybody would pitch in and bring something for the community to enjoy. Delphine took all of Friday to make 5 sweet potato pies from scratch and Tic grilled so many slabs of ribs, it was insane. Irene, Lester’s wife was tight with Delphine; her and the other young women gossiped while sipping beers on their stoop.

“Uh oh, ‘Phine. Tic is over there getting rowdy at that card table.” Irene loved to tease—he was putting them back and with each hand he won, the louder his voice carried. “Oh hell. Lemme go feed my baby.”

Delphine made Tic’s plate with everything he loves — ribs, chicken, potato salad, cornbread, sausage dog with relish and an ice cold Budweiser. “Hey baby, you been doing a whole lot of drinkin but not a lot of eating. Come on now.” Tic acquiesced and moved with her away from all the men. She sat on his lap at an empty table and fed him some of the food before he took over, and started feeding her too.

Tic’s skin was all tan and his arms and pecs were bulging in his shirt. He didn’t even have to try to get her riled up. Delphine rubbed his back, and absentmindedly played with his ear. “All right now. You know that’s my spot.” They both had their fair share of alcohol that evening, and Delphine usually would have to beat Tic off with a stick. The shoe was on the other foot now. “Tic……I don’t have any panties on..”

He almost choked on his beer when his minx of a wife started talking so salacious like in his ear. “I like this Delphine. She takes what she wants. What you trying to do? Only if you say it, will you be able to get what you want.” Delphine’s skin pimpled because he meant every word. All the ruckus and commotion around them meant nothing in that instance. Just her and her husband. “I want you to take me in that alley…..and do whatever you want to me..”

That sinful jawline clenched, and she knew he would do just that. Wasn’t any more talking. He drained his beer, and dragged her down a few streets to a secluded alley. Delphine stood at the brick wall, flushed with the strap of her linen dress down her arm. Tic cradled her face and they kissed each other so deeply that they breathed for each other. She undid his pants letting them fall to his knees, and he picked her up.

Delphine was so wet, the slick was almost to the inside of her knees. Tic’s thrust was so strong, they both gasped aloud. “Yes Tic, fuck me hard!” His face lived in the crevice of her neck, licking and kissing. Just like every muscle on his sculpted body, Tic was rock hard and filled her up so deliciously. The same BB king song from the other morning played and they were able to hear it still. Everything swirled around the both of them and yet nothing at all mattered. His low grunts were so sexy and she could tell he was about to cum.

“Oooh I love this pussy baby, I love this pussy….I fuckin love you!” Atticus filled his wife up all the way that it spilled down her legs and the heat of it all triggered her to orgasm. She pulled him in even more and he expelled more of his love inside her. Tic brought her down to her feet, and she stumbled immediately. Tic steadied her and stuck his tongue down her throat yet again. “Atticus Freeman….the man of my dreams..”

The guidebook was doing so well.

Atticus and Hippolyta had been able to come to an agreement on operations; Atticus would be able to make final edits and handle submissions to the publisher and Hippolyta would be able to do most of the trips to update the stops. She acquiesced to Tic’s request that he would join her to assuage his nerves if she went more than 3 states away.

The book was flying off the shelves and Hippolyta had been able to meet some publishers in Kansas City and Detroit to put in some local Negro owned shops and apothecaries. It was the second Saturday in August, and the entire South Side would be at Washington Park for the Bud Billiken parade and festival. Delphine and Tic packed up their station wagon with fold up chairs, a cooler full of beer and pop, and more food to last a winter. Dee was finally feeling better and she rode with you guys to the Bud as she was Delphine’s favorite little cousin.

Everybody was rocking and rolling to the marching bands and majorettes. Delphine and Dee looked at all the floats and picked their favorite one. “Oooh Dee, you see the grand marshal? That’s a good lookin man!” She made sure to say it in earshot of Atticus; she loved him a bit jealous and possessive. He cut his eyes at her, smirking behind his beer. “All right now, don’t get in trouble.”

“Baby, there is nothing more that I would love to do than be punished by you.” Delphine stuck her tongue down her husband’s mouth, and Dee gagged at the public display of affection. “Y’all are so gross I swear!”

The grand marshal announced who had the best float and the best marching band in Chicago, and the party went on until late in the night. “Come on, dancing queens, let’s get y’all home.” Atticus loaded the car up and Delphine and Dee fell asleep in the backseat holding each other. Atticus looked in the rear view full of gratitude and unbridled joy at his two girls. He stopped at Hippolyta’s house and carried Dee inside.

Delphine moved to the front seat after and waited for her husband to drive them home. The angles of his face illuminated by the streetlights made him even more handsome in the low light. She couldn’t help but to stare. That same feeling from that other morning came back with a fierceness. He felt her eyes on him and winked at her. “You looking like you still hungry for something…..”

“That mouth on my body…that’s what I need.” Delphine sat with her back to the door and lifted her dress, pulled her panties off, and put them in his lap. Tic took them and sniffed them and was instantly engorged. That station wagon moved a little quicker then.

Fireworks were being shot near the lake and Tic and Delphine had a clear view from their balcony. “Ooooh let’s see baby! Her ass clapped in her dress and Tic had to grip his meat walking after her. “Lemme make sure the shoggoth is okay first. Keep it tight for me baby.”Tic went to the basement and fed the shoggoth and calmed him down since they were gone all day. He had it down to a science now. Feed him a racist white man a day, and he would cooperate.

Delphine was out on the balcony totally enthralled. She jumped like a little kid when several popped at once, entrancing her with the bright colors. Standing at the window, he just gazed upon her. How did he get so lucky? Tic joined her on the balcony, wrapping those muscles around her waist. All the kisses behind her ear made her giggle just like how he intended. While she was off guard, he unbuttoned and unzipped his pants, and lifted her dress in one motion. “Now what you doing back th—OH!”

He slipped right into her pussy with the most earth shattering intrusion Delphine could ever experience. “Shhhh shhh. We have to be quiet. Now Mrs. Freeman…..I think I know what’s gotten into you cuz I did the math. It’s that other time of the month, ain’t it?”

A breathy yes fell from her lips and it clicked for her. She was always incredibly horny and with shiny hair and skin at this particular point of the month. “You tryna have my baby?” Tic whispered in her ear, and pinched her nipple as his hips stroked back and forth. “Delphine, are you tryna make me a father?”

She loved when he got rough with her, especially when they were at risk of being seen in the act. “Yes, Atticus give me your baby.” His hands gripped hers on the railing and he let her have it. Delphine had already came twice but Tic was always generous; he wanted his wife to be satisfied. “Here it come..” Atticus held her right to his chest and gave her devastating thrusts and came deep inside her. Her head rolled back on his shoulder and they stood together still united as one as the fireworks show gave the finale. “I love you so much” they both said in unison and gazed at the sky.

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#soufcakmistress #atticus freeman #lovecraft country #black fanfic writer #black fanfiction #jonathan majors #atticus x oc

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clemkruckinnie · 27 days

Note

Can you write something like your ‘first time’ fic with Dalton, except the reader is a virgin and Dalton isn’t, maybe Dalton is the reader’s first bf too?

rocky road- d. lambert

a/n: i’m so sorry it took me so long to get to this! appreciate yall so much <333

it’s one of the first warm days on campus, after a long and brutal winter.

the courtyards are full of your classmates, the dorms practically empty as everyone tries to soak up the first few rays of sunlight.

you and your boyfriend, ever the introverts, decided to take advantage of the empty dorms, grabbing ice cream from the place right outside campus and eating it on his bed. dalton’s never been the type for a big social gathering, preferring his own company to anyone elses’. that is, until he met you. you, with your bright smile and warm personality, always ready to listen to his ramblings, or just let him sit in silence with you.

that’s what you two are doing today, finishing off your ice cream and taking turns catching up. dalton’s in the middle of a rant about his partner for a group project, when you notice a smear of his rocky road ice cream on his cheek.

“so i emailed my professor to let her know bryson had done zero percent of his- hey!”

without thinking, you’d leaned forward, licking the side of his face.

“what? it’s too good to waste.” you defend yourself. “i’m listening, keep going.”

“that’s pretty much it.” dalton shrugs, “that’s all i was gonna say before you licked me.”

you shrug, smiling.

“ok, you go next. did your roommate finally break it off with that tinder dude?”

“no! i don’t understand why. dal, when i tell you this man is the literal worst-“

your ice cream drips onto your thigh, the coldness stunning you momentarily.

the story you were about to tell dies on your tongue as dalton’s meets the skin of your thigh, licking off the drops of ice cream off your skin.

he comes back up, running a hand through his hair to push it back, then notices your flabbergasted expression.

“something on your mind?”

“you just-“ you gesture to your thigh, dalton raising an eyebrow.

“yeah? you licked the side of my face earlier.”

“that was your face, though, this was-“ you trail off.

dalton smiles softly at you, heat creeping into your cheeks at the way he’s looking at you.

“different?” dalton offers. when you don’t respond verbally, he shakes his head.

“tell me.”

“it was different. it felt- i just pictured-“

you sputter, your mouth moving faster than your brain.

“pictured what, baby?” dalton urges you. when you look down, silent, he grabs your hand, squeezing it lightly.

“hey, i’m sorry. i know you’re a virgin and i understand if you’re not-“

“i pictured your face—lower.”

you’re not sure where the confidence came from, and judging by the way his eyebrows shoot up, neither is dalton. he puts his hand on your knee, looking at you for assurance. you nod, heart in your throat.

“lower like—“ dalton moves his hand up, towards the middle of your thigh. “here?”

“no, lower like-“ your breath catches when he finally inches his hand towards where you need him, fingers ghosting over the fabric of your shorts.

“i can make that happen,” dalton offers, “if you want.”

you nod rapidly, dalton’s intense blue eyes meeting yours.

“i need to hear it, baby.”

“yes.” you breathe out.

dalton grins at you, leaning in for a kiss. this one’s different than the other times he’s kissed you—he’s needy, desperate to get his mouth lower, and lower, and…

he leans into you, your legs parting around him as you lay back into his pillows.

he pulls back from the kiss, leaving you dizzy as he tugs the hem of your top upward.

you oblige, lifting your arms up so he can get the item off as fast as possible. it’s flung into some random corner of your room, dalton moving to your bra before you can complain.

“can never fucking— there we go.” dalton gets the clasp undone, the way he phrased it reminding you once again he’s more experienced than you. it’s not something you should be insecure about, yet it is anyway, and dalton picks up on your shift in mood.

“baby?” dalton asks , fingers still pressed into your back. “you okay?”

the softness in his voice makes your stomach flip, and before you can even attempt to lie to him, it spills out.

“i’m just worried i won’t be good enough for you.”

dalton’s gaze softens, and he moves back up. you think he’s going to kiss your lips again, but he moves up higher, pressing his lips to your forehead. then, the bridge of your nose, then, under your eye. you giggle at the feeling of his lips on your face, and feel him smile against you.

“there you are.” dalton pulls back to look at you. “you are more than good enough for me. you’re everything.”

you catch yourself nodding as you look into his eyes, almost hypnotized.

“this isn’t a competition, okay? i just wanna make you feel good.” dalton assures you. he redirects his attention back down, sliding the straps of your bra off your shoulders.

“let me?” he offers.

you know better than to stay silent, but what comes out of your mouth next surprises both of you.

“please.”

dalton’s pupils dilate. “oh, good girl-“

and he’s kissing you again, the intensity turned up somehow as he pulls off your bra.

before he does anything else, he pulls his own shirt off, flinging it like he did yours as he leans back into you, skin to skin.

“you’re warm.” you tell him, dalton laughing softly at your honesty.

“you are, too. and soft,” he trails his fingertips up and down your sides softly, his delicate touch making you shiver.

“you’re so responsive,” dalton tells you, “i love it. helps me figure out what feels good.”

“when i touch myself-“ you start, growing shy when you realize what you’re about to describe.

“go on,” dalton urges you, the sweetness and genuine curiosity in his gaze giving you the push you need.

“i start out by playing with my chest.”

dalton nods, sliding his hands up. he moves to cup your breasts in his hands, running his thumbs over your nipples. he groans softly as you buck into him, surprised at how quickly he’d found one of your sweet spots.

“like that?” dalton asks, already knowing his answer.

“yes.” you sigh, letting his hands work you over.

“never had a tongue on them, though. right?” dalton asks again. “bet that’d feel even better.”

“please, dalton-i wanna feel your mouth again.”

he tilts his head back slightly, adam’s apple on display before he moves back down. “you beg so nicely.”he tells you, not giving you any time to respond before he licks one of your nipples, leaning back and blowing cool air on it as he plays with the other one.

“oh-“ you moan out, dalton leaning back in to the other nipple and repeating his actions.

“look at you.” dalton marvels, sliding his hands back down again. “as fun as this is, i wanna taste you.”

the way he talks about it sends a pang between your legs, parting them further as dalton moves backwards. he reaches the hem of your shorts, grabbing the waistband and tugging as you lift your hips.

“you’re just as eager as me.” dalton jokes.

“maybe more.” you joke back. “only by a little, though.” you smile, dalton returning it before his gaze drops back down between your legs. he hooks his fingers into your panties and pulls them down, you repeating your previous motion to fully reveal yourself to him.

“oh.” dalton marvels to himself. “baby, look at you.” before you can even think of shutting your legs, he seemingly reads your mind, grabbing one of your thighs and pressing down to keep you open for him.

“i’m gonna take my time with you.” dalton tells you, eyes flicking from yours back down to your pussy. with his free hand, he trails a finger up through your slit, slowly dragging your wetness upwards.

“dalton-“ you whine, desperate for more than what he’s giving you.

“i know, baby.” dalton attempts to soothe you. he presses an open mouthed kiss to your thigh, fingertip ghosting over your clit.

“i need you, please-“

he pulls away, cool air settling against the patch of your skin he’d been kissing moments earlier. you’re about to ask him what’s wrong when he finally has mercy on you, dragging his tongue through your folds, circling your clit with his tongue once he reaches it.

you moan embarrassingly loud, thankful that your neighbors work the night shift as he starts to work you over. he’s slow and meticulous, savoring you as you whine and gasp under his mouth. it’s almost too much, and you find yourself squirming underneath him.

he puts a stop to that quickly, wrapping his arms around your thighs and tugging you closer to his face.

“don’t run from me.” he warns you, the seriousness in his voice making you dizzy as he continues to eat you out.

“won’t—“ you moan, voice giving out to a whine as he takes your clit into his mouth and sucks. “i promise, just wanna be good—wanna be your good girl.”

he moans against you, the vibrations rolling through your body as you shudder.

“fuck—gonna be the death of me.” he mutters. before you can respond, he takes your clit into his mouth and sucks, whatever comment you were going to make giving way to a loud whine.

“oh my god, dalton!” you cry out, hands flying to his hair to grab onto something, anything to keep you in your body.

his jaw goes slack against you as you tug, pulling him as close as you can as he continues to lick you. your brain feels fuzzy, each stroke of dalton’s tongue feeling like a little jolt of electricity as you get closer.

“baby,” you gasp, “i’m so close, please-“

dalton speeds his motions up, looking into your eyes as he does. the coil in your stomach winds tighter and tighter, until dalton pulls away, lips making a lewd smacking sound against you.

“do it, angel,” he encourages you, “cum on my face.”

the sultriness of the words he chooses and the harshness he sucks your clit with push you over the edge, nearly screaming dalton’s name as you cum.

he detaches himself from you, shaking his hair out of his face and moving to get on top of you.

“feeling good?” dalton asks you, only able to give him a dazed nod as your chest heaves.

“catch your breath.” he tells you sweetly, kissing your temple as you finally come down.

“i’m good. i’m really, really good.” you tell him, finally able to speak again.

“good. i can, uh-“ dalton sputters, as if he didn’t just tell you to cum on his face moments prior, “i can tell. do you want some water, or-“

“i want you.” you tell him. “i’m ready, i want you.”

“you don’t have to, i’m fine just laying here-“

“dalton, please fuck me.” you plead, his eyes darkening as you do.

“well, i can’t tell you no, not when you beg like that.” dalton relents, kissing you chastely before he pulls back to dig through his drawer.

“there we go.” he pulls a condom out of the drawer, tearing the wrapper open. he discards it soon after, pulling down his boxers and letting his already hard length spring free.

“woah.” you marvel. “is that-“

“because of you? yeah. you try listening to your girlfriend’s pretty moans with her thighs around your head without getting hard.”

you grin up at him, watching him intently as he slides the condom on, pumping himself a few times before he moves to line himself up with you.

“hold onto me.” he tells you, you obliging as he slowly starts to push himself in.

“oh-“ you gasp, clutching at dalton’s shoulder blades as his tip starts to stretch you out.

dalton pants above you, tilting his head back as he pushes in further. “so fuckin’ tight, shit—you okay?”

“yeah,” you tell him, “yeah, just keep going slow for a bit.”

dalton nods, grabbing his headboard so hard his knuckles turn white as he pushes further.

“almost all the way in,” he tells you, “you’re taking me so good, pretty girl. you ready?”

you nod, looking into dalton’s eyes as he finally bottoms out, his blue eyes rolling back at the feeling.

“oh my god-“ dalton moans, “fuck.”

the dull ache of being stretched open for the first time subsides pretty quickly, because the pain isn’t as strong as the arousal you feel from watching dalton. he looks angelic above you, face glistening, hair still messed up from your hands.

“move, dalton, please-“

he finds his pace quickly, his eagerness making your head spin as he fucks you. it’s like it’s the last time he’ll ever get to feel you like this, wrapped around him, clinging to him like he’s your savior.

“sweetest pussy i’ve ever fucked, shit-“ dalton groans, his words making your stomach flip. “‘s all mine, right? you’re all mine?”

“yes!” you whimper, scratching down his back. “i’m yours, i’m yours-“

dalton tucks his face into your neck, sucking and biting the skin there, marking you from the inside out as his thrusts get sloppier.

“i’m so fuckin’ close, you gonna cum again? gonna cum around this dick like the good girl you are?”

before you can answer, dalton brings his thumb down to circle your clit harshly, a broken moan clawing it’s way out of you.

“do it baby, cum with me, i’ve got you, i’ve-“

your second orgasm hits you like a freight train, clenching around dalton as you scratch his back.

“good girl, good fucking girl, good—oh, fuck! “

dalton’s thrusts slow to a stop as he pumps the condom full, head hanging low, strands of his hair brushing against your forehead.

he leans down farther, kissing your forehead again as you both catch your breath.

“you’re so beautiful.” dalton marvels, moving the hand not supporting him to caress your face. “how are you feeling?”

“tired.” you tell him honestly.

“aw, i wear you out?” dalton teases you. “i’m gonna pull out, ok?”

he eases himself out of you, tying off the condom before tossing it into his trashcan.

“here,” he hands you the hoodie he’d been wearing and your panties, pulling his boxers and sweatpants back up as you get dressed. he climbs back over you, pulling you into his bare chest as he lays back down.

“i can hear your heart beating.” you tell him, slinging an arm around his waist as he tucks his chin on top of your head. he rubs your back, content to just lay with you.

“get some rest, pretty girl. i’m not done with you yet.”

#insidious the red door #dalton lambert #dalton lambert smut #dalton lambert x reader

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pinkipeachiikeen · 1 year

Text

Mint Chocolate Curse (Sakusa x Soulmate F! Reader)

----Mint chocolate chip is a commonly discussed flavor, some swearing that it tastes like toothpaste, others swearing that anyone who believes that has obviously never brushed their teeth before because no mint toothpaste tastes like that. Sakusa never cared much for ice cream in general, he doesn’t like things that are prone to mess, after all but he didn’t necessarily dislike mint chocolate or anything.

That was until it was marked on his body for all eternity at the ripe age of twelve.

Here, it’s mint chocolate chip! Was tattooed in what could best be described as a fun, cheery, font, which was ironic because those two words were rarely, if ever used to describe Sakusa.

It was also ironic because he seemed to be the only person in the universe who didn’t want a soulmate. ---------------

Yay my first mini-series! This will be chapter one out of three, so stay tuned for the next two parts! likes, reblogs and comments are extremely appricated, especially comments since they encourage me to write more!

Warnings: tiny bit angsty (Kiyoomi isn't good with feelings yall) but overall cute and fluffy!

WC: 5000+

Everyybody has their icks when it comes to food. Sometimes it's because of texture, like grisly canned fruit or squishy jellies. Sometimes it's a food combo that turns people off, like pineapples on pizza. Sometimes people just don’t see the appeal, like mint chocolate chip.

Mint chocolate chip is a commonly discussed flavor, some swearing that it tastes like toothpaste, others swearing that anyone who believes that has obviously never brushed their teeth before because no mint toothpaste tastes like that. Sakusa never cared much for ice cream in general, he doesn’t like things that are prone to mess, after all (But when he and his cousins made the occasional bike trip to the local ice cream parlor he opted for rocky road) but he didn’t necessarily dislike mint chocolate or anything.

That was until it was marked on his body for all eternity at the ripe age of twelve.

Here, it’s mint chocolate chip! Was tattooed in what could best be described as a fun, cheery, font, which was ironic because those two words were rarely, if ever used to describe Sakusa.

It was also ironic because he seemed to be the only person in the universe who didn’t want a soulmate.

Soulmates were by no means rare, and it's estimated that about 50% of society has one of some sort. It's not particularly an easy science to study since soulmate marks tend to diffrate from person to person, some had more visible marks, like his cousin, Motoya and his soulmate Kaori with matching smiley face tattoos (of all things) on their wrists. While others, like Sakusas mom, are ‘blessed’ with gold marks where their soulmate first touched them. The former usually had indications around middle school, like both Sakusa and Montoya did. Where the ladder could appear anytime, as long as you make contact with your supposed other half.

It does’t matter if you are full grown adult.

It doesn’t matter if you are married to another.

It doesn’t matter if you already have two kids and completely normal, healthy life.

Sakusa’s mother went her whole life thinking she didn’t have a soulmate. She grew up, fell in love, had kids, all just to be ‘blessed’ one day at a supermarket when she accidently brushed hands with a stranger who just happened to pick up the box of cereal she dropped. Her hand, and her world, apparently was incased in gold.

And Sakusa’s?

His shattered.

Sakusa didn’t know until years later, after years of tears and fights and prolonged silences between him and his mother that were always laced with regret that his parents marriage was an unhappy one. His father was unfaithful and would never miss a chance to put his mother down, a stark difference to the man she fell in love with. Sakusa, of course, never saw that. Too encased with his own childish worries, like every child should be. He just thought his mother was being selfish, destroying the only home, the only family he ever loved. He didn’t understand that the family, the home he adored was only being held together by fragile threads. Ones that his mother was holding together, using everything and all that she had. Ones that were tearing her apart in the process.

His childish ignorance caused years of pain and uncertainty between his mother and him. They were finally in a secure spot, his sister looks happier than ever with her almost two year old (something Sakusa could never understand, he think kids are germ magnets, but to each their own), his father is out of hiis life (which Sakusa has grown to learn, is actually a blessing) and his mom and stepdad are living their best lives, together. His stepdad isn’t half bad either. Sakusa can see the twinkle in his mom’s eyes, one he never seen with she was with his dad.

Despite that, Sakusa can’t stand to look at his soulmate mark, or even the sight of mint chocolate chip flavored anything.

As soon as he got his mark, gone were the days of peddling bikes to the ice cream shop and the thrill of frozen, chilled delightfullness on a summer day. Hell, Sakusa even struggles going through the frozen aisles at grocery stores and the 7-Eleven. Oh and god forbid he finds something other than ice cream thats mint chocolate chip flavored. Mint chocolate chip cookies in the normally safe cookie aisle one almost took him out. Hell, he can’t even enjoy mint gum or use minth toothpaste! His stupid soulmate mark was a daily hindrance for him, and he hasen’t even met the person!

And if Sakusa had anything to say about it, it would stay that way.

Because soulmates only cause pain. Whether it be now or in the long run. He knows that thought is irrational, soulmates can be wonderful things, but he can never forget those nights his sister held him close to her side, trying to drown out the screams and yells of their parents.

He can never forget how his father spit out the word ‘soulmate’ with such malice and hatred, and now his brain refuses to think of soulmates in any way but with the same malice and hatred from his father and the same fear of that ten year old, crying in his sisters arms.

So Sakusa is fine with living with all the absurd avoidances and paranoia. Fine with all the constant anxiety that comes with walking past an aisle. He’s fine with the underlying anxiety that comes with the blooming of flowers in the Spring, because that means Summer, the season of sweet treats is just around the corner. That is all fine. He won’t go out with his teammates after school for sweet treats after gruiling hours in the hot gym and he won’t run into the 7-eleven with them to grab some Gatorade. That is all fine. Everything is safe in the gym. There is no mint chocolate chips in the gym.

Well.

There WASN”T

Not until the teams sweet new manager noticed Sakusa was out of his dear hand saanitizer and offered some of her own. Those damning five words. Said oh so politely, graced with a smile, completely aware of the toll it had on the ravenette, the devastating blow you would leave in your wake;

“Here! It’s mint chocolate chip!”

You were well aware of the….challenges being the volleyball team's manager would bring. Watching your cousin manage Fukurodani was enough to prove that managing a hearde of teenage boys was akin to being a zookeeper to a bunch of wild animals. Nonetheless, you decided you were readily up for the challenge when Motoya, your cousin's soulmate, practically begged you to be his team's manager when you made an offhand comment about how you were soon transferring to Ichiyama. Why not? You thought, Kaori loved managing her team, despite how rowdy there are and it’s a great way to get to know people at your school and in the surrounding area. ‘It gets you more in touch with the community!’ Kaori said when I asked for her opinion. ‘It's a great opportunity! You should totally go for it!” ’

Her words rang steadily in your ears as you watched Sakusa stare at you with such fear and disgust in his eyes. He slowly backed away, still maintaining eye contact, before running into the locker room.

Y’know, if someone saw his reaction they would probably think he watched someone get stabbed, not that he was offered hand sanitizer.

His departure left a silence in the room, everyone having been startled by their ace’s erratic behavior. Their trailing eyes watch his departure before they all settle onto you. Great, you think, bitterly. First day and I already fucked it up.

The team's captain clapped his hands and signaled everyone (and himself) to get back to what they were previously doing, ‘Sakusa’s gonna Sakusa.’ he said as you made your way to the corner of the bleachers, making yourself as little as possible, still reeling from your embarrassing rejection, if you could even call it that.

You’ve been warned of Sakusa’s tendencies, how he was a ‘clean freak’ (in Motoya’s terms) and not one for people in any way, shape or form. He was independent and liked his space, and most importantly he liked cleanliness. You respected that, being an introvert yourself and wanted to show him that. You were new to the team and you wanted to show that you are here to help and not impose, so you kept your distance with him and gave most of your words of encouragement, jokes and quips to the other members, while sneaking glances of Sakusa whenever you could. You waited for the right time to introduce yourself and you found the perfect opportunity to when he ran out of his hand sanitizer. So you grabbed your bag (a bit too eagerly to be natural) and unclipped your keychain hand sanitizer, offering it to him.

Apparently, that was NOT the way to go.

Your eye caught the almost copper brown of Motoya entering the gym after grabbing his water bottle and you quickly (and as calmly as you could, trying to make him not realize that his cousin publicly embarrassed you in front of his whole team) sped walked over to him, catching his attention.

“Hey, y/n!” he said cheerfully, and you couldn’t stop but notice the stark contrast between their greetings- or Sakusa’s lack thereof. “How’s your first day going?”

“Good, good!” you lied. “I just got a quick little question!”

“Yeah, what's up!” he replied, taking a swig of his water.

You take a deep breath in before spewing out, almost illegabily; “Is Sakusa allergic to mint? Or is he one of those people who really doesn’t like mint chocolate? Cuz I offered some of my mint chocolate scented hand sanitizer and he kinda flipped out? I don’t know why he would unless he was allergic or just really really can’t stand mint chocolate, although i thought that was just wit-”

Montoya spat out his water.

“YOU WHAT?!”

You subconsciously step back, thankful you weren’t in the spray zone.

“I just offered him some of my hand sanitizer?” you almost whisper, handing him the small travel sized bottle that was still in your hand from your previous embarrassing moment. It seems like you were collecting embarrassing moments like pokemon cards, now. But instead of having a mighty Charizard to show off on the playground you get sleepless nights of cringe-infested thoughts.

“Yeah uh,” he gulps. “Uh- did you just kinda hand it to him like ‘here?’’' he asks while handing the bottle back to you, reenacting what he guessed happened.

“Uh, yeah.” you say, unsure. “Was I not supposed to?” You ask slowly.

“No, no, It’s just,” he bounces on the balls of his feet. “Did he say anything to you?”

“Nope,” you say, popping the ‘p’. “Just looked at me like I killed his puppy before booking it.” You share, thumb pointing to the locker rooms. “Just before you got here, too. You should’ve seen it.” you say sarcastically. “It was suuuuper embarrassing.”

Motoya’s stubby eyebrow twitched as he gave an awkward laugh. “I’m sorry, Sakusa is kinda flighty around new people, like a cat, y’know?” he gives you an awkward pat on the shoulder. “I’ll go talk to him!” he announces, albeit a bit too loudly, causing the very few whose attention he didn’t gather with the spit take seconds prior to be engaged in your business, once again.

What the hell did I get myself into?

“SAKUSA KIYOOMI!”

The door slams open, causing a startled Sakusa to slam his fingers against his locker door. Motoya, either unbothered or unnoticing of his cousin's pain, waltzes straight up to him and gives him what Sakusa might perceive as something just as unbearable, a hug.

“Oh my god, how insane is this?” he cheers. “Your soulmate is my soulmate's cousin! Your cousin is her cousin's soulmate!” he pauses; “Wait did I get that right?” he shrugs. “You know what I meant, regardless. I’m so happy for you!’

Sakusa rolls his eyes. “I’m glad you are happy about it.” he grumbles, awkwardly shrugging his cousin off.

“Oh come on,” Montoya whines. “Don’t tell me you are still all ‘anti-soulmate’.”

“I’m not anti soulmate.” he grumbles, closing his locker. “I’m just fine without one. I don’t need someone to come in and make my life all ‘special’.” he said, waving his hands for effect after the word ‘special’. “I’m fine on my own.”

Motoya groans. “No one said you weren’t, Kiyomi.” he settles on the bench next to his cousin. “I don’t know what you heard, but soulmates aren’t meant to change your life or you in any way”

“Tell that to everyone on tv. Or the media. Or literally anyone, because they’d all say something different.” he deadpans.

“Well, they’re wrong, or clearly haven’t met their soulmate yet, if they even have one. Relationships of any and every kind are different. Whether they are soulmate bound or not.”

“So what you are saying is…?”

Motoya lets out a long excgarated groan. “God, why must you have the emotional density of a cactus? What i'm trying to say is that your relationship with your soulmate is yours to figure out, not anyone else's. The only thing I can say for sure is that running away from it will only cause pain.” he informs.

Damn, when did Komori get all wise? Sakusa thinks.

“Besides, she’s our manager, whether you like it or not. You can’t avoid talking to her forever.”

Sakusa smirks, and Montoyas face falls.

“You’re right.” he said, throwing his bag over his shoulder. “But I can for now.”

“And how, please tell me, are you planning on doing that?”

“Sakusa has damaged his throat and won’t be able to talk to anyone for 2 weeks or so. Until then, he will be using a mixture of his notepad and the text-to-speech app on his phone to communicate. Thank you and no further questions.” Montoya states to the team an uncharistical lack of enthusiasm that one can usually only find in an unamused Sakusa.

“What is this, a press conference?” the captain asks before sighing it off and ushering everyone to practice as usual.

“This is only gonna blow up in your face, y’know that right?” Motoya murmured as they set down their water bottles on the bleachers.

Sakusa ignored him, or at least didn’t care enough to write out a response.

“I bet this is great for you, avoiding your soulmate and limiting human interaction even more so than you already do.” he sighs. “Damn it Sakusa, I thought taking those two sick days would’ve knocked some sense into you. I’m guessing Auntie doesn’t know?”

This made Sakusa stop in his tracks.

Sakusa quickly scribbles on his notepad,

And she won’t find out, right?

Even without those words being verbally said Motoya knew that the question he wrote was more of a statement, a threat, if anything else.

Motoya raises his hands in defense. “Hey, I'm not gonna tell her anything! Sheesh.” he shakes his head in disapproval. “Just know that she’s gonna find out one way or another, and she’s gonna tell you the same thing I did. Probably more aggressively, cause I doubt she’ll appreciate you leading your soulmate on like that, giving everyth-”

Sakusa stops him with a cold glare. Fiery words sat on the tip of his tongue, You have no idea what happened, what she went through. What I went through. But Sakusa could tell that Motoya knew he overstepped.

“I’m sorry” he sighed. “I’m just worried for you, okay? I know I wasn’t there when everything happened, but I was there for the fallout.”

Oh really? I’m sorry I kind of forgot we moved into your family’s house when my father kicked us out due to my mothers new ‘golden’ addition to her skin. Apparently, having a soulmate mark was the epitome of unfaithfulness, and father would definitely know, since he was screwing the neighbor’s barely legal daughter.

“I just don’t wanna watch you hurt again over a soulmate, yours or not.” he references again, to his mothers past. Can’t he just drop it? And they say I'm bad at reading social cues. I’m clearly uncomfortable.

“The mere thought of having a soulmate shakes you up so bad that you adjusted your entire lifestyle, man.” he states. “You shouldn’t have to live in fear of the frozen aisles!”

Sakusa’s eye twitches. He reaches for his notebook again before Motoya stops him.

“I know that you don’t wanna talk about this, so I won’t force you to. I just want the best for you, and I'm gonna be here for you, no matter what dumb decision you make. Got it?”

Sakusa stays quiet, both slightly annoyed and slightly thankful. It pains him to admit, butespite how annoying he thinks Komori is, he can’t deny that he makes up a large part of his support system.

“That being said, it looks like Y/n’s on her way over here, so good luck and don’t fuck it up!” he whispers before dashing away to join practice.

That piece of-

Sakusa takes back his inner thoughts complimenting his cousin as you shyly walk up to him, hands hiding behind your back.

“Hi, Sakusa!” you greet, a tad too cheerful for Sakusas taste as he takes a small, almost unnoticeable step back. “I- um,” you stutter. “I’m sorry to hear that you hurt your throat, we missed you the past two days! Practice wasn’t the same without you.”

Sakusa pulls up his text to speech app and presses one of the prerecorded answers.

“Thanks.”

She nods in acknowledgement. “So we took the big test yesterday,” you share, revealing the notebook that was kept behind your back. “And I wanted to know if you needed the notes I took the day prior? We took a ton of them the day prior and without them you probably couldn’t get more than 50%. Why our teacher thought loading us up with important info the very day before a test that large was a good idea, I couldn’t tell you.” Sakusa awkwardly accepts the composition notebook from you, mentally questioning if you always shared that class. “ But I can tell you that the test is open notes, and these,” you tap the top of the composition notebook. “Are the best in the class. Guaranteed.” you promise with a smile. Before Sakusa could type anything out in response, you’re out the door. Sakusa only understood ‘called in to work’ and ‘babysit’ before you were out the door, leaving him dumbfounded.

Since when did we share a class?

When did the teacher announce this supposed big test, and why wasn’t I informed?

And why the hell is she being so nice to me? From what I heard I embarrassed her in front of everyone the last time she attempted to talk to me.

Brushing off the questions for now, Sakusa notices the neon sticky note stuck to the cover of the notes, decorated with a series of digits and a little note reading;

Text me if you have any questions! Good luck, I believe in you!

Followed by a small smiley face.

Sakusa’s eyes kept reading it over, his mind trying to rationalize his slight flutter in his chest. Stop that. He tells himself.

Luckily, he gets called out to the court by his teammates, making him push both the notes and the questionable feelings aside for the time being.

As much as Sakusa wanted to steer clear from any possible occurring thoughts about his soulmate, he needed to look over the notes you gave him if he wanted to keep a decent grade. He gave an over dramatic sigh as he plopped down in his desk chair, digging into his backpack. He grabs the composition notebook (eyes strategically avoiding the pink sticky note on the cover) and flips through it to roughly find the section he needed to study before placing the notebook on his desk. Eyes flicker over the neat text, decorated with highlighters and multicolored pens in places stating important information. He can’t deny, the notes are pretty good. His eyes continue scanning until they meet… a volleyball? It seemed so out of place compared to the pristine notes. Yes, there were a few illustrations, but most of them were related to the subject, not anything random like a volleyball. He was going to just shrug it off before he realized that the volleyball wasn’t the whole illustration. Connected underneath to the volleyball was… no way.

Directly under the volleyball was a little chibi, who seemed to be spiking the volleyball. Normal enough, he supposed, but that's not what really caught his eye. The chibi had a number ten on its little jersey, and more noticeably, a mop of curly black hair.

He squints his eyes, bringing the notebook closer to his eyes. “Is that…..me?”

Sakusa tries to internally debate the possibility of the chibi volleyball player being him, but what other volleyball player wears a mask while spiking? He’s the only one he knows, and he bets that he’s the only one you know too.

Against his better judgment, he pulls out his phone.

You would love to say that you weren’t sitting around mindlessly scrolling through your instagram feed hoping that Sakusa would text. You would love to say you were being productive, whether that meant studying or finishing that anime series you told your friend you would finish. But, no. You were laying down on your bed, head over the side, hands in the air holding up your phone that has been remotely silent for a good while now. Trapped in an endless cycle of likes in saves, drowning in the shame of worrying over a boy. One that isn’t even bothered to give you the time of day.

That of course, changed when your phone buzzed from an incoming text message, and all shame went out the window.

For the time being at least. You were pretty sure you would be feeling pretty embarrassed later looking at the red phone shaped mark you obtained on the bridge of your nose, but that's a later issue.

After picking up the phone and inspecting it for any damage, you quickly opened your messages to find an unknown number. Finger ready to click on it, you have to physically restrain yourself. Wait. What if he thinks I'm clingy or something answering too fast?

You groaned and threw your phone on your bed. Stupid social rules.

Deciding to busy yourself for five minutes or so by cleaning your room, (cuz hey, at least that’s productive and you can’t say you spent the whole evening waiting for a text from a boy who you thought wouldn't actually text. ) you hurriedly grabbed piles of clothes from all throughout the room, and righteous decided if they were clean and to be folded, clean enough to be thrown on the chair and which ones needed to be banished to the dirty clothes. Once the clothes were away you sorted out your bed stand, threw out all the trash that littered the floor, and sorted out your nightstand to only hold the essentials needed, you finally allowed yourself to check the clock.

Damn, only 12 minutes past.

Maybe Sakusa should text more often. You think as you plop down on your bed to a now 90% clean room, one which you’ve been putting off for far too long.

Opening the text, you are greeting with a curt;

Hello.

This is Sakusa.

From the volleyball team.

You didn’t know if you were gonna outwardly cringe or keel over laughing. This man texted with such awkward straightforwardness, the only person you could compare it to was your grandfather.

Thumbs ready to type, you start your sentence, before readily erasing it.

One

Two

Three times.

Ugh why is this so hard!

You sat there silently debating what you could type that doesn’t make you sound like a complete dweeb before you realized, there's a chance he saw you type,

then untype,

then type again.

Internally groaning, you throw caution to the wind and reply with a simple;

Hey Sakusa!

What’s up?

Wow. It really took you that long to write four words. Cringing, you put your hand to your upper face, partially shielding yourself from the embarrassment, and partially facepalming yourself.

Through the cracks in your fingers you see the little chat bubble appear, gluing your eager eyes to the screen.

I have a quick question.

Waiting an appropriate fifteen seconds, you reply, Shoot. I’ll probably have an answer.

I’ll probably have an answer?! Who the hell says that?!

Before you could chastise yourself further, a reply pops up.

Is this supposed to be me?

Followed by a picture of a familiar sketch.

Everything then moved in slow motion. Heat flooded to your face and ears as you dropped your phone and hid your face in your hands as if it could shield you from the embarrassment of your crush finding your little doodle of him.

Without looking away, hoping that if you kept staring at the photo it would suddenly combust from everyone's memory, you slowly fumble around for your pillow,

put it to your face

and screamed.

Rocking slowly back and forth in his desk chair, Sakusa stares at his phone, waiting for a response. It said seen, was she just staring at it .He swats down the irritation laced with the tiniest bit of worry. Why should be getting all upset? You probably had to go to the bathroom or something. There's a ton of reasons why a person would be left on seen.

Right?

I mean Sakusa does it all the time, usually because he couldn’t be bothered to respond.

His eyebrows furrow.

Is that why she isn’t responding? Does she not care?

Before Sakusa’s thoughts could really start to spiral, his phone dings.

Once.

Twice.

Three times.

It was practically vibrating as Sakusa scrambles to pick it up.

AHsu;wdfsdhkkasjhjfsb

Sakusa wasn’t one that could be described as ‘chronically online’, but his cousin was, so he could easily identify that the random bunch of letters cluttering his screen was a ‘keyboard smash’ and not you having a stroke.

OMFG I AM SO SORRY

YOU WEREN’T SUPPOSED tO SEE TJAT

I TOTALY FORGOT THAT WAS IN THERI MEAN ITS NOT ANYTHING BAD

JUST FUCKING EMBArASSING

Sakusa chuckles. He’s never heard you swear before, but he suddenly has a strange need to hear you curse in real time. He can picture you frantically typing, not caring for the typos. I bet she’s all flustered. Cute.

I tend to doodle in class, it helps me focus, its a mindless thing really.

Recently ive been doodlin a lot of volleyball related things bc im the new manager and its on my mind a lot.

So that includes you.

Please please PLEASE dont find it creepy.

If you look at the other pages you can probably see sketches of some other players!

Sakusa flips through the pages, indeed seeing some chibi versions of his teammates in various poses; spiking, serving and receiving. But he cannot deny the fact that there seemed to be many more curly haired, masked players decorating the sheets than any other players.

Why are there so many of me? He replied

The phone went silent.

Well you finally respond.

It’s not my fault you outshine the rest.

Maybe try toning down the talent, maybe the others would occupy my mind more.

Sakusa's eyes float over the two texts, again and again, never quite processing them 100% as his lips turn into a goofy smile that he’d deny ever graced his face.

I’m kidding, of course.

For the most part, at least

You weren’t sure how you made it past the doors of the gym after the back to back mortification you experienced with Sakusa. Wasn’t embarrassing you in school enough? Did he really have to embarrass you at home too? I guess that one was on me, though. I gave him the embarrassment ammo with the book and the gun with my phone number. Why must I torture myself like this?

Your internal monologue was interrupted by the “Ahm.” of someone clearing their throat.

Turning around too fast for your body's liking, becoming disoriented you spot Sakusa, who like you, was startled by your quick response. “Oh hi Sakusa!” You say, hoping it wasn’t obvious that you were just thinking about him. “What’s up?”

He hands you the notebook, equipped with a new post it reading a simple ‘Thanks’

“Oh! Of course! I hope they helped!”

He responds with a simple nod before returning to the court.

Waiting a few seconds to create distance between the two of you, you dive into the notebook to assess the damage

Oh god.

You gulp. It’s so much worse than you thought.

Nearly every other page was decorated with a little doodle of some sort, with an absurd amount of them being the very boy you oh so happily handed them to. What the hell was I thinking? You racked your brain to think of any reason you would have willingly handed this notebook to anyone, especially Sakusa, but you couldn’t come up with any besides ‘pretty boy make brain go brrrrrr’

What the hell is wrong with me?

You suddenly became overwhelmed with a pleasant urge to bang your head against a wall. Maybe a nice brick one would knock some sense into me..

Your internal rambling comes to a sudden halt as your eyes flicker over a paper with a careful cut into it.

You weren’t the most neat person, despite all your attempts to make your notes aesthetically pleasing (in a desperate attempt to make you study), you tended to just rip out a piece of paper if you needed to glue it on a study guide or on another page. You rarely used scissors, especially on the margins of the paper where the doodles lay….

No…. it couldn’t be. He wouldn’t… right?

Another check through the book confirmed your fear, the doodle missing is the one Sakusa messaged you about the night prior. But why though? Why would he cut out one of the doodles? What was he planning to do with it? Knots began to form and tighten in your stomach. You began to ponder asking him what he did with it, but part of you didn’t want to know. Images of crinkled up paper in the trashcan flashed through your mind.

You grimace.

But if he really didn’t like it enough to cut it out… why did he only cut out the one? There were several doodles of him in the notebook. Hell, why did he cut it out at all? It seems much easier to just not look at the notebook if it caused him so much anger. It doesn’t make sense.

Unbeknownst to you, across the gym several of Sakusa’s teammates were thinking the same thing when they spotted their oh so cold and stoic ace typing away on his phone, showcasing his newly decorated clear phone case.

One that just happened to be a chibi volleyball player that looked a bit too much like him.

#haikyuu x reader #sakusa kiyoomi x reader #haikyuu fanfiction #sakusa kiyoomi #sakusa x reader

141 notes · View notes

euphorajeon · 1 year

Text

a kaleidoscope of us | jjk

— pairing: basketball player!jk x named oc

— genre: fluff | high school au, childhood friends au, neighbors au, friends enemies to lovers

— word count: 5.3k

— warnings: childhood stories, jeongguk has always been annoying, jeongguk's crush was serious, junghwa loves him too yall she's just too shy to express it, mention of iron man, mention of jk's eight-pack abs (they're still innocent i swear^^), they're just too adorable :(

— summary: being neighbors with the star player of the school's basketball team since childhood comes with a lot of memories—of rain, ice cream, and of course: love.

— author's note: hope you enjoy reading ggukhwa go down the memory lane! they're too adorable i cannot :(

masterlist | basketball player!gguk masterlist

Graduation days are supposed to be held on a sunny day, where the weather is nice and the sun doesn’t make you sweat through your clothes. It’s supposed to be a day full of excitement, laughter, and joy as you celebrate going away from school and into something much bigger called college. The only thing that could stress you out on graduation day is if you misplaced your cap somewhere and couldn’t find it until the last last minute when you have to go.

(Seriously, though, that sounds like a Jeongguk thing to do and he really did misplace his cap five minutes before he and his family were supposed to go to school.)

Well, the point is, graduation days are supposed to go smoothly without a glitch, but Junghwa’s graduation day decided just to be out of the ordinary by bringing something different into the equation: rain. It was fine in the morning, the sun was shining brightly (which Junghwa slightly hated because it would make her sweat through her graduation gown) and there was no sign of rain anywhere. But the sky turned gloomy as the hour went by, and rain poured down the second the graduates finished tossing their caps into the air.

It was chaos all over as everyone tried to catch their caps before running away to find shelter. Junghwa was thankful that she was with Jiwoo the entire time, who held her hand and never let go even while they were running in search of a place that wasn’t drenched.

They’re back in the school building now, only slightly damp because their graduation gowns took most of the damage. Jiwoo is shaking water off her cap when she suddenly laughs, and when Junghwa looks at her in question, the girl nods her head in the direction of a group of girls standing not far from them.

“Did you see them trying to run in their heels in the rain? It was hilarious.” Jiwoo continues to laugh as one of the girls walks past them while complaining how soaking wet she is. “Mean girls got KO-ed by the rain.”

Jiwoo’s right. They’re the ‘mean girls’ who ambushed Junghwa last year after Jeongguk hugged her in front of the whole school (to protect her from the basketball coming her way, but they didn’t care) and made her come home early afterwards. Then she was forced to play basketball with Jeongguk and the rest is history.

“You know, if it weren’t for them, I think Jeongguk and I wouldn’t be dating right now.”

“You’re dating Jeongguk?!” Jiwoo whisper-shouts, eyes comically wide. Junghwa gives her a flat look which makes her let out a laugh again. “Speaking of Jeongguk, where is he? How come he hasn’t come running for you after this surprising turn of event?”

“Actually,” Junghwa says, lifting up her phone. “He’s texting me right now, asking where I am.”

Jiwoo shakes her head at the information. “He’s so in love with you that it’s gross and endearing at the same time.”

“Don’t say ‘in love’ like that, it’s gross.” Junghwa makes a face as she puts her phone back in her dress pocket. “He’s coming here, by the way.”

“Oh yeay, what a joy to be a third wheel,” Jiwoo fakes her enthusiasm with two weak fists raised in the air before grinning wide to show Junghwa that she’s not serious. “Kidding, I actually have to go soon because my family said they’re coming here to pick me up.”

Junghwa and Jiwoo then chat some more while waiting, talking about some high school memories, their friends, also the college they’re going to attend after this. It’s bittersweet, because on one side you’re pursuing higher education for a better future, but on the other side you have to go separate ways with your friends. Junghwa knows that high school friendships typically don’t last, but Jiwoo is a really good friend and it’s really sad to think that Junghwa is not going to attend the same college as her.

“Looks like your boyfriend’s here,” Jiwoo glances behind Junghwa and she turns around to find a smiling Jeongguk walking towards them. He has his gown hanging on his arm and his cap held in his hands, both wet from the rain just like everyone else’s. When he’s close enough, Junghwa just realizes that his hair is also wet from the rain instead of the styling gel he applied this morning, tufts of black sticking out indicating he’s run his fingers through it enough times to get rid of said gel. Weirdly, he still looks good even with messy hair like that.

“Hi baby,” Jeongguk says when he’s reached Junghwa, putting his arm around her shoulders before squeezing lightly. “Hello to you too, Jiwoo.”

“Hey.” Junghwa smiles back, patting Jeongguk’s cheek twice as a form of greeting. “Why is your hair so wet?” The girl then continues the trek of her hand upwards, feeling some wet strands of hair on her fingers.

The sight makes Jiwoo shake her head, conflicted between being endeared or grossed out by the couple in front of her. “Okay! I think that’s my cue to leave,” she says, opening up her arms to Junghwa. “Last hug before I do?”

Junghwa makes a sad face before embracing her friend in a tight hug. “Don’t you dare forget about me,” she whispers, which makes both girls smile because they know they will stay in each other’s minds even after going separate ways.

Jiwoo bids goodbye to Jeongguk as well before picking up her gown and cap off the floor and walking away. Junghwa watches as her figure gets smaller the farther she walks, and Jeongguk rubs his hand up and down Junghwa’s arm the moment he sees his girlfriend’s lips turn down into a frown.

“You’ll be okay, baby,” he whispers into her hair. “You’ll be okay.”

Jeongguk and Junghwa end up sitting on a concrete bench in front of the school to wait for Jeongguk’s dad to pick them up. Both families had planned to have late lunch together to celebrate Jeongguk and Junghwa’s graduation, and the couple were supposed to go to the restaurant together after the graduation ceremony is over. But mother nature happened, so now Jeongguk’s dad is on the way to pick them up from school.

“How long will it be until your dad gets here?” Junghwa asks as she carefully places her gown and cap beside her, taking care not to sit on it. It’s still awfully wet and she doesn’t want her dress to end up in the same state.

Jeongguk puts his own gown and cap on top of Junghwa’s before sitting down on her other side. “I don’t know, he said he just left the restaurant.” He shrugs. “Oh, and it’s raining, so expect traffic. He’s probably not gonna be here for a while.”

Junghwa nods while absent-mindedly kicking the ground with her sneakers. She looks up to watch the rain only to find her boyfriend staring at her feet with a funny look on his face. Bumping her shoulder with his, a chuckle escapes her mouth as she asks why he’s suddenly so interested in her choice of footwear today.

“It’s just unusual to see someone wearing a dress with sneakers on their feet.” Jeongguk bumps his girlfriend’s shoe with his own sneakers-clad foot. “You look good by the way. In a dress. I haven’t had a chance to tell you that since I saw you this morning.”

The girl scoffs and turns her head to look at the boy beside her to give him an are-you-sure? expression. “Really? With my hair matted to my forehead and semi-damp dress that’s sticking to my skin uncomfortably? You must have a peculiar definition for ‘looking good’.”

The boy laughs and ruffles Junghwa’s hair adoringly (also taking care not to mess her hair up too much) which does seem peculiar because Junghwa didn’t even say anything remotely funny. But hey, this is the same boy who has pined for Junghwa for six years, in a time when they weren’t even talking to each other. If anything, Jeongguk is the definition of peculiar itself.

“Hey, I don’t see you in a dress that much, give me a break.” Jeongguk grins. “And your hair’s fine! It’s still cute, I promise the rain didn’t do much damage.” He traces his fingers on Junghwa’s side braid that they don’t even know the name of, combing through a few tangled strands too while he’s at it.

“Yeah? It’s all my mom, I swear, I graduate high school and she thinks it’s the perfect opportunity to force me in dresses and fancy braids. This—” she gestures to the sneakers covering her feet, “—is a trade off I forced her to agree on. She was making me put on heels, Jeongguk! Imagine me, in heels, running in the rain trying to avoid being drenched. Even those mean girls couldn’t handle it.”

“Mean girls? Who?”

One more peculiar thing about Jeongguk is that he somehow always has perfect timing in situations where it is not really needed nor wanted. First with hitting Junghwa’s nose with his basketball, then hugging her to protect her from the same ball, and now—

“Hi, Jeongguk. Nice hair.”

—being given a compliment by the girl he was just asking about seconds ago. Well, one of the mean girls. Junghwa remembers clearly that she was the one who almost slapped her the day she was being ambushed. She’s also the only one who has the nerve to still flirt with Jeongguk even after he said he’s dating Junghwa. She was even bold enough to give Jeongguk a wink after her (unwanted) compliment about his hair, making Junghwa’s blood boil as she shoots daggers into her retreating back. The audacity of some people.

“Did she just wink at me?” Jeongguk voices out with a scrunched up face. “I wonder when she will stop. I told her over and over again that I have a girlfriend and her actions make me uncomfortable.”

“Why is your hair like that anyway?” Junghwa snaps, seemingly out of nowhere. “Why can’t you just have your hair like a wet dog so you don’t look this good and give her something to compliment you about? Huh?”

The grin Jeongguk lets out at Junghwa’s question is bright, all teeth and scrunched nose. It’s really amusing to him that his girlfriend can’t give him a compliment without sounding upset about it, like a reverse back-handed compliment. It almost sounds like she’s whining, too, about Jeongguk looking so good that he just wants to squish her in his arms right now.

“Okay, first, thank you for saying I look good,” he says around the remnants of his grin, holding up a finger when Junghwa opens her mouth to protest. “Second, my hair is like this because the basketball team dumped a bucket of cold water on my head. You know, boys and their rowdy ways.”

Junghwa looks like she still has some things to say about Jeongguk’s weirdly-well-styled wet hair, but deflates once she realizes there’s no use voicing them aloud. No matter what she says, how hard she denies it, how upset she gets, still doesn’t take away the fact that Jeongguk looks good with his wet strands of hair. Damn him and his good-looking everything.

“It reminds me of that time you played basketball when it was raining outside,” she mumbles instead. “You looked like a wet dog then, and you wouldn’t listen to me when I told you to stop playing and go inside when the rain poured harder. You kept dribbling, running, shooting the ball.. and then what did we get the next day?”

Cringing, Jeongguk allows himself to travel back to that day, just a few weeks before their graduation day. It was only drizzling at the beginning, so he ignored the drops of water from the sky making wet patches on his t-shirt and kept running around dribbling his orange basketball. He caught Junghwa’s attention around twenty minutes into his one-man game, which made him try out cool tricks to impress her. (It didn’t work.)

Junghwa had warned him about the rain and how he could get sick if he continued playing, but Jeongguk being Jeongguk just waved her off while running his hand through his soaked hair, hoping to entice his girl once more. (It didn’t work either.) She only rolled her eyes, trying to look annoyed but they both knew she was actually looking out for him as she continued watching him play.

Jeongguk was practicing his three-pointers when the rain suddenly poured harder, drops of water falling faster than Junghwa could finish calling out for her boyfriend. The sound of water hitting every surface it met greatly drowned out her shouts to get him to go inside, and she almost cried out in frustration when Jeongguk almost slipped on the slippery surface of the small basketball court. It seemed like nothing would stop him from playing basketball in that gloomy weather.

Junghwa ended up going out of her house with an umbrella in hand, marching up to the boy still shooting hoops with anger in every step she took. She dragged him off the court, ignoring his plea to go back to fetch his basketball, rolling forlornly into a puddle of water. When they got inside Jeongguk’s house, Junghyun, his older brother, had taken one glance at them and shook his head at the pair’s antics. Understandable, because it’s always like this with them. Annoying Jeongguk and Annoyed Junghwa.

She found out that all her effort to get him inside was kind of fruitless when she went to his house the next day and was met with a bedridden Jeongguk, droopy eyes and red nose. A touch on his skin felt like touching the embers of a dying fire, making Junghwa grumble even as she changed the wet cloth on Jeongguk’s forehead. His pouts and whines couldn’t get her to soften up and he yelped in pain when Junghwa pressed the cloth too hard on his forehead.

But, eh, as annoyed as she was with him, she never left his side that day.

Present-day-Jeongguk is currently nudging Junghwa’s arm with his in an attempt to get on her good side. “You’re still mad about that? I already said I was sorry..”

When Junghwa doesn’t say anything, he continues. “Besides, don’t you remember how fun it was to play in the rain? We used to do that as kids and you would have the biggest grin on your face, with your hair matted to your forehead and your clothes drenched down to the last thread. We used to run around together and you would step on puddles just so the water would splash on me—”

“Hey! It was you, not me!” A smack lands on Jeongguk’s bicep as the boy guffaws, deliberate in altering their childhood memories. It does the trick though, as Junghwa cracks a smile watching the same memory inside her head. “My favorite part was when your mom would hand us a steaming mug of hot chocolate as we sat side by side on your couch. I would always ask for extra marshmallows and you would always whine when she wouldn’t give you the same amount of it in your mug.”

A fond smile creeps its way into Jeongguk’s lips, remembering how Junghwa’s mug would always be overflowing with the white fluffy sweets, whereas his would be scarce of it. He used to complain about that to his mom, saying how it felt like Junghwa was her child instead of Jeongguk. His mom would always laugh and say that it would be lovely to have a daughter like Junghwa.

“Yeah, you were always my mom’s favorite,” Jeongguk reminisces. “You were over all the time that when you weren’t, all she did was ask ‘Where is Junghwa? Is she not coming today?’. At first I thought it was annoying, until you stopped coming over and made me wonder about the same thing.”

Junghwa shoves the boy on his shoulder, scoffing because the way he said it makes her look like the bad guy. “Hey, you were the one who got into the basketball team and got busy with it! I wasn’t gonna barge into your house and fight Junghyun for the Game Boy, it wasn’t as fun with him because he would always give the console to me the second I asked. Couldn’t even be called a fight.” Junghwa pauses for a bit before remembering something. “Oh, and my parents bought me a PS2 because they noticed I was at your house too much just to use your game consoles. I basically spent my middle school years hooked on that thing.”

Jeongguk scrunches up his face at the mention of Junghwa’s PS2, a console he was slightly familiar with. “Must be boring as heck, always playing against the system and never having the satisfaction of trashing your opponent—me—when you win.”

“Well I play adventure games so I didn’t need an opponent—”

“Oh wait, is that why you brought the PS2 along when we had our summer trip that one time? When there was the beach, the sand, the ocean, but all you wanted to do was hold the controller in your hand and play?”

Junghwa frowns at the memory, recalling the way her parents had forced her to come to the summer trip with the Jeons. She had planned to stay home all summer (because she hated the scorching hot sun) and finish the adventure game she was playing at that time, but her parents were not having it. It was after a lot of negotiations (and tears from her end) that Junghwa managed to pack her PS2 and bring it along to the beach house they had rented for the trip.

While Jeongguk and Junghyun were out enjoying the sun at the beach, Junghwa would always stay back in the house with her hand on a controller. She got scolded by her parents because of that, but Jeongguk’s mom (who has always had a soft spot for Junghwa) would say it was okay and even told her boys to play together with Junghwa like they would back home. They always played after dinner and the exhaustion from his activities in the day would always result in Jeongguk falling asleep on the couch.

So, they did play together on the trip, but it wasn’t the sole reason Junghwa brought her PS2 like Jeongguk thinks it is. She just didn’t like being out in the sun that much.

“Ha-ha, very funny. I remember you also had a controller in your hand at the end of the day, when you were asleep on the couch with drool on the side of your mouth.” Junghwa cackles, the image of thirteen year-old Jeongguk still vivid in her mind. “I wonder if Junghyun still has those pictures of you, they were golden and are not to be forgotten.”

“I think you need a friendly reminder that those pictures have both of us in frame, and I recall you didn’t look very attractive either slumped next to me with one identical controller in your hands.” The boy slouches against the bench, demonstrating how Junghwa looked in the pictures they’re talking about. He closes his eyes and lets out a very unattractive snore from the back of his throat, hands positioned as if he’s holding a PS controller. “This is what you look like in those pictures.”

“Like you said,” Junghwa shrugs, “thirteen year-olds aren’t supposed to be attractive.”

“I think I said eleven,” Jeongguk corrects with his brows furrowed, trying to remember the number. “But eh, memories from those years are blurred together in my head anyway, so it doesn’t make much of a difference.”

“I remember one thing from when we were eleven,” Junghwa says. “We used to bike around the neighborhood and you would always crash your bike against mine. You would do it over and over again while laughing like a maniac, making my hands hurt from trying to hold the handlebar steady. Weirdly, it was your bike that got jammed from all those crashings, not mine. I remember your dad shaking his head disapprovingly when he knew, but he still got you a new bicycle for your twelfth birthday.”

Both smile at the memory, the image of eleven year-old Jeongguk grinning sheepishly as he showed his dad his broken bicycle still clear in their minds. In the time when he was bicycle-less, Jeongguk would sometimes use Junghyun’s bicycle to still ride around the neighborhood with Junghwa. Other times, when she was feeling nice, Junghwa would let Jeongguk get a hold of the handlebar while she sat in the back. He would drive haphazardly and it would always make Junghwa yelp in fear, but every time she asked to switch he always refused.

(Jeongguk would never admit this out loud but he never let Junghwa take the handlebar because he simply liked the feeling of having her arms around his waist. And whenever he swerved left and right, her hold on him always tightened.)

“Yeah, the one I showed off to you as soon as my dad brought it home. You frowned so hard back then I almost thought you were jealous that I got a new bike and you didn’t.” Jeongguk shakes his head with a grin adorning his face. “Oh, speaking of birthday gifts, I remember what you got for your thirteenth birthday,” he continues, a glint of mirth in his eyes that makes Junghwa a bit scared of what’s going to come out of his mouth next.

She asks anyway: “And what would that be?”

“A cone of ice cream on the carpeted floor of the movies.”

As Jeongguk laughs, Junghwa makes his shoulder her personal punching bag for the day. Her punches and smacks don’t seem to affect him, though, as he continues speaking around the remnants of his laugh about the memory involving a fallen cone of ice cream.

“Your parents took you to the movies to watch Iron Man 2 and decided to bring me along, because they knew I also loved the superhero. And because you were a thirteen year-old with a five year-old soul inside her body, you asked for ice cream the minute we got there. I even remember the flavor of ice cream you got, it was cookies and cream, right? You always liked that flavor when you were little.”

“Alright, we all know you have a good memory of that day but I think that’s enough—”

“No, what are you talking about!” Jeongguk says. “This is a classic that must be told until the end. Too good to skip just like that.”

Junghwa rolls her eyes at his enthusiasm to tell the story of a memory she’s not too proud of. It’s silly, everyone must have experienced it at least once in their lives, but it doesn’t make her feel any less bad whenever she gets reminded of it. Unfortunately, the person sitting next to her just happens to be someone with a hobby of just that: reminding her of the stupid things she’d done in the past.

“Okay, where was I?” Junghwa really hates how much fun Jeongguk is having. “Oh, right, cookies and cream. So you got two scoops of said flavor, a glimmer in your eyes, a grin on your lips. I remember you sneered when I asked for a scoop of the same flavor as you, saying I was only doing that to copy you. I tried to prove you wrong by asking my ice cream to be put in a cup instead of a cone like yours. A wise move, might I add, because five seconds after we walked away from the booth you got too excited to watch where you were going and ended up tripping over your own two feet. The face you made when you realized you had just dropped your cone of ice cream was hilarious, I swear, I almost laughed out loud had you not burst out crying right at that second.”

“You did laugh out loud.” A finger is jabbed into Jeongguk’s chest. “You tried to muffle it by eating your ice cream but I knew you wouldn’t miss any opportunity to laugh at me.”

“You have to admit it was hilarious, though, from the way you tripped on literally nothing to the comedic timing of your cry. I also didn’t understand why you would cry over something so trivial like that. Your parents even offered to buy you another cone, but you refused.”

“I didn’t want them to waste more money because I had two left feet.”

“Junghwa, you were thirteen,” Jeongguk says in an exasperated tone, “no one would give you a hard time just because you accidentally dropped your cone of ice cream and asked for another. It’s ice cream, not a car.”

“Yeah, well, if you think like that then why did you share half of your ice cream with me?” Junghwa’s question shuts him up. “Was that why you got the same flavor? Because you knew that somehow I was gonna trip on air and drop my cone of ice cream? Or was there any other hidden motives?”

“Well, it’s not hidden anymore since you know I had had a crush on you since we were eleven.” Jeongguk shrugs like it’s not a big deal. “At first I just wanted to get the same flavor so you’d think I liked the same thing as you, without any intention of sharing it with you. But then you cried when you dropped your cone, and I hated seeing you so sad. At that moment I was thankful that I was a lovesick idiot who only wanted to get your attention—even only by getting the same ice cream flavor—because then I could share my ice cream with you. I felt like I was the one who got rid of your sadness, and it felt nice to know that I was able to make you smile again.”

It feels like a confession all over again, told in a nonchalant manner as if the things he just said are mere facts from when they were kids and not a big revelation of just how serious Jeongguk’s crush on Junghwa was. Junghwa had always thought that Jeongguk was just this annoying kid she was unfortunate enough to have as a neighbor who did things for the sole purpose of annoying her. Never had she thought that behind the annoying label she had always painted him with, there existed a boy who only wanted to make her smile.

“You’re smiling,” Jeongguk points out, a broad smile taking over his own features, “and blushing! I didn’t think my ice cream backstory would be so touching for someone like Park Junghwa. Thanks, babe.”

“Stop teasing me, you ass,” Junghwa hisses with cheeks still warm. “I always thought you shared your ice cream with me just because you felt bad that you still had yours and I didn’t. How was I supposed to know that thirteen year-old Jeongguk was so sweet and pure?”

“Oh, so eighteen year-old Jeongguk is not sweet and pure?”

“You can’t have an eight-pack on your stomach and expect to be called sweet and pure.”

Jeongguk lets out a shy laugh at that, crimson on the apple of his cheeks because Junghwa doesn’t really acknowledge the muscles he has on his body. The shirt-lifting incident a year ago was the only time she seemed affected by it, and Jeongguk would be lying if he said he didn’t feel disappointed every time he flexed and Junghwa never seemed to notice. Well, until now, that is.

(It makes him giddy inside to know that Junghwa even notices it’s an eight-pack instead of the usual six-pack. She pays attention to his body him!)

“Thanks for indirectly saying I’m hot, I know I am.” Jeongguk gives his girlfriend a wink while running his fingers through his (still) wet hair, making Junghwa shake her head at his display of (over)confidence. “But I’ll have you know I’m still as sweet and pure as thirteen year-old Jeongguk.”

“Yeah? How?”

“I still have that Iron Man cup we got after watching the movie.”

Junghwa makes a sound of surprise, eyes round in disbelief. The Iron Man cup in question is really just a regular tumbler with a small Iron Man figurine on the lid that you can detach from it. Junghwa remembers how Jeongguk held it in his hands the whole journey back home because he was afraid that his figurine would end up in pieces if it’s not put in the safety of his hands.

“You’re kidding. It’s been almost six years!” She exclaims.

“No, I’m serious,” Jeongguk grins. “It serves as a reminder of the day I saw the hero of my life and the day I shared ice creams with Park Junghwa.”

“You’re so cheesy it’s starting to get gross, Jeon.”

“You love me though.”

Junghwa can’t even deny it as she looks away from Jeongguk’s grinning face, choosing to stare at the sky instead. It’s still gloomy and pouring, without any sign of stopping soon. She wonders how long they will have to wait outside in this weather before being able to feel the warmth of the restaurant they’re going to after this. Soon, she hopes, because it’s really starting to get cold.

Jeongguk notices how Junghwa is slightly shivering from the cold gust of wind, pulling her into him for a side hug.

“Sorry I don’t have a jacket to give to you,” he says apologetically, hand rubbing up and down Junghwa’s arm in hopes of giving her a little warmth. She leans her head on his shoulder and snakes her arms around his waist, a complete 180 of minutes prior when she said Jeongguk was cheesy.

“It’s fine, you’re warm enough,” Junghwa mumbles into his collarbone. “Your shirt’s kinda damp though. You’ll have to change into a dry one or you’ll get sick.”

“Your dress is damp too,” Jeongguk chuckles. “It’s okay, we can be sick together and eat my mom’s chicken soup while cuddling on my bed. Sounds really nice.”

Junghwa doesn’t respond because turns out being in Jeongguk’s arms like this feels really warm and comfortable, she feels herself wanting to close her eyes and go to sleep. Maybe it’s the exhaustion from the whole graduation ceremony, maybe it’s the running away from the rain, or maybe it’s the talking with Jeongguk earlier. Whatever it is, Junghwa only knows it causes her fatigue right now.

“Hey, that’s my dad,” Jeongguk mumbles when his eyes catch his father’s figure from far away. He waves a hand towards him, and the older Jeon hastily makes his way to the pair still sitting on the concrete bench. “Babe, wake up, dad is here.”

When they’re all safely seated inside Jeongguk’s dad’s car, Jeongguk turns towards Junghwa who’s sitting in the back seat. With a grin brighter than the sun, he asks a question Junghwa wouldn’t expect after the day they just had in the cold rain.

“Want to get some ice cream before we go to the restaurant?”

When Junghwa only responds with a confused expression, Jeongguk continues: “For old time’s sake?”

“Seriously?”

Despite the slightly harsh tone, Junghwa is smiling. Jeongguk knows she’s already giving in from the way her eyes lit up when he referred to their childhood memory, no matter how good the act of pondering she’s putting up right now. He stares at her with hope in his eyes before Junghwa gives up and relents.

“Alright, but I’m getting mint chocolate now instead of cookies and cream.”

“Fine by me, just don’t drop it on the floor again.”

The laugh they share afterwards is warm and comfortable, and Junghwa thinks Jeongguk looks beautiful with his wide grin and scrunched nose. Worthy of getting his picture taken and stored as the first memory in their kaleidoscope of memories, one Junghwa would carry everywhere in case she encounters a cold, rainy day. She hopes she gets to see that smile for a long time, so she can keep adding to the kaleidoscope in her mind.

And as her own grin dims into a smile, she hopes he feels the same way.

— a/n: aaand that's it for jeongguk and junghwa! if you think they're adorable come tell them so here. thank you for reading ^_^

#bts #fanfic #bts fic #bts fanfic #bts au #bts highschool au #jungkook #bts jungkook #jeon jungkook #jungkook drabble #jungkook au #jungkook fic #jungkook oneshot #jungkook highschool au #jungkook scenarios #jungkook fluff #enemies to lovers #jungkook hs au #jungkook x oc

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reallyromealone · 2 years

Text

A soft sneeze could be heard from (name)s room in the penthouse, the three year old caught a nasty cold and could barely move as pitiful whines left his lips.

“Oi, (name) time for scho— ah shit”

Mochi panicked slightly, never really having to care for a child before little (name) came along and honestly didn’t know what to do “stay here” he said to (name) as if the child was able to move to begin with.

“big problem” mochi said to the men who were either ready or still getting ready, them all shooting to look at him “(name) has a cold”

The room went silent as the processed his words.

“I told yall not to let him play in the rain!” Kaku said shaking his head “who was the one who let him eat ice cream on a cold day!”

The men began bickering and panicking at the concept of baby bonten being sick.

Ran, Takeomi and mikey just sighed before wandering to (name)s room, grabbing the necessary supplies along the way and Ran went to the kitchen to make soup.

“I can’t believe you would blame me– where did those three go?” Koko was confused as the other six looked around for the older siblings of bonten.

Mikey was quiet while placing the cool we cloth on (name)s forehead, sighing at the high temperature the thermometer showed, takeomi already having changed the sweaty sheets to a lighter set along with cooler pajamas.

“ ‘key hurts!” (Name) mumbled out before letting out a painful cough, remembering to vampire cough.

“I know bud, Rans coming with soup for you, chicken noodle with egg” Mikey said soothingly and if anyone saw, no the fuck they didn’t.

“takeomi is gonna grab some medicine and a laptop so you can watch your movies” Mikey helped situate the boy when ran came in with soup, the eldest Haitanis chest tightening at the boys pitiful form, none of the men would ever openly admit that they felt paternalistic instincts towards the boy.

But let’s be real, they did.

And (name) totally hasn’t called them dad by accident.

“here bud, eat up alright?”

“Ran will be here to keep an eye on you alright?” Mikey said taking the spoon from (name)s Shakey hand, noticing him struggling “here open up”

The seven bonten men were stressed leaving, none of them wanting to leave the boy alone but alas crime waited for no man.

The day went slowly as (name) mostly slept, the bubblegum cold medicine knocking the kid out and if it wasn’t for the whistling of a stuffy nose, Ran would have been worried he was dead.

(name) was hazy when he woke up, eyes bleary and head heavy as ran came to check on him “hey bud”

“hi Papa…”

That name had powers that (name) wasn’t aware off and it made Ran melt like no other.

“how ya feeling”

“no good”

“yeah?”

(name) nodded and cuddled with all his stuffed animals, clinging a sock monkey that looked suspiciously like Sanzu and ran chuckled a bit “well guess what? Koko got you that yummy hot chocolate”

“really?”

“yup and Mochi got you those strawberry marshmallows”

(name) looked so happy as he tried to sit up, the dizzyness making him sway and groan “Shh, don’t get up so fast alright?”

“ok… I love papas…”

“we love you too buddy”

@h0n3y-sug4r

You are a gift

#tokyo revengers x reader #tokyo revengers x male reader #tokyo revengers fluff #bonten x reader

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squidyyy23 · 10 months

Text

tuesday(ish) tag game 💫

tagged by so many pals so here i am. on not-tuesday. @celestialmickey @energievie @metalheadmickey @whatwouldmickeydo @xninetiestrendx @crossmydna @gallawitchxx @sleepyfacetoughguy

decided to go rogue today and let the kids answer for me. so here's what 4 & 6 year olds think about me. 😂

name: 4: christina / 6: mommy (they've revealed me 😂)

when is your birthday? 4: my don’t know / 6: when is it? (yall. it was a month ago. they've already blocked it from memory)

favorite social media platform outside of tumblr? 4: my don’t know / 6: disney plus (they had no idea what social media was i generalized to my favorite app. we don't even have disney plus anymore... 😂)

do you wear makeup? 4: yes / 6: yeah (like maybe once a month???)

favorite board game? 4: candyland (came with a cackle. he knows i hate playing it with him) / 6: the bug game (no bad! we are giant board game nerds so he at least picked a legit game.)

do you have any tattoos? 4: no / 6: not right now (even the kid is like dude, just pull the damn trigger already)

which of the seven deadly sins would you say you struggle with the most? 4: envy / 6: you’re really happy (they struggled here. 😂 i had to read them the list. then define half the words. and still... i'd have picked sloth cause i'm lazy as fuck. at least they don't think so!)

best vacation you’ve ever been on? 4 & 6: palm springs (really belize. long before their lifetime.)

how do you get around town? (car/bus/train/on foot/etc) 4: a car / 6: a car that's bad for the environment (thanks kid. i'm aware my love of gas guzzling suvs isn't ideal. don't gotta out me though.)

describe your vibe in three words: 4: loves ice creams / 6: has beautiful hair (i think the missed the goal but hey, three words.)

share a song rec: 4: rocket man / 6: major tom coming home (can you tell we've got a space phase going on? 🚀)

skip out on the tags since i'm late but jump in if you missed it!

#this sounded like a better idea than it was. 😂#they're fired.#tag game tuesday 💫

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winderlylandchime · 7 months

Note

2/2 of 2x08: ‘why is she acting like this? Is she okay? Oh god, is she sick? What’s wrong deb? Talk to me, redhead! *deb tells vic about ben* please, for the love of everything i own, stop talking. Why are you still talking? I said STOP! Twist your words? Deb, girl..that’s what you said, do you want me to rewind the tapes? AND TO SAY THAT TO VIC?! YOU WISH HE WASNT WHAT NOW? Listen to me Deb, straight still gets hiv. MIKE GET BEHIND ME, I MIGHT HATE YOU BUT I GOT YOU! OH NO HES HEARING HER! WASTING AWAY TO NOTHING? AND SHE SAYS THAT TO VIC OF ALL PEOPLE?! Poor vic. Fought for his life and now his sister says all that?! *pauses the tv and looks at me all scared* just so you know, i would NEVER say something like that to you. I might be an idiot but I’m not *waves his hand at the tv* that dumb…can you get me another soda?’… ‘he’s more sad for vic than himself? Damn, he has his nice moments. Deb, why would he have to tell you about Ben? That is literally none of your business. What’s up with you and Ted? SHE FORBIDS HIM FROM DATING BEN? Man, i hope Ben fucks the shit out of Mike this episode. I’m talking can’t walk for a week type of fuck! Because yall are pissing me off!’ And now the scene with britin is up!!!! ‘Ohhh look at them. Getting busy! Why is Justin talking about Ben? What is going on this episode..Man, ben has to have the craziest hiccups this episode. THATS RIGHT BRI! ITS MIKES DECISION! FINALLY SOMEONE WHO IS SMART! *pauses tv* justin. No. Please never do it raw. You can’t trust anyone THAT much. Cheating exists. And also you and Bri Bri don’t exactly have the most….how shall I put it nicely? Ethical relationship..is that respectful? Idk either way *shakes his head* no blondie! Brian..smack sense into him, don’t encourage him! GOOD BOY! EXACTLY BRIAN! Condoms are your best friend *shakes his pill bottle* next to these lil shits. HE WANTS HIM SAFE! AND HE WANTS HIM AROUND FOR A LONG TIME, YOU MIGHT AS WELL SAY I LOVE YOU! (My name) did you hear that?! He wants him safe! And around! FOR A LONG TIME! That’s like many years! I cannot wait for him to say i love you to Justin! Would be a dope finale. Like *pretends to be brian, ig* “Justin!!! I love you. And i wanna be with you!” Yeah that’s the shit!’ My heart breaks for when he’s gonna see the finale. ‘Brian looks good. Leather jacket, messy hair…i fuck with it. Ohhh i like Brian and this bandana chick! Look at him taking his kid to the park. OH FUCK HER PARENTS *the scene in the park with that random lady comes up* the fuck they do?! I bet Michael just got a boner hearing her say that..Brian..Brian, come on i was rooting for you! Not to be the devil’s advocate but at least his reasoning was nicer in some weird way.’ He just scoffed at the sight of Deb so i’d say he’s doing well ‘Deb..you’ve talked enough. I think you should be quiet for the next 3 episodes..oh vic forgave her way too fast! Couldn’t be me tho’ ‘…no offense but if your parents don’t like you, you really shouldn’t care..but i get it, our greatest fault as human beings is the need we all have to be loved, it’s the only thing we all have in common. *look at me as if he just saw me* ice cream! *goes to get ice cream*’ I honestly wonder how he would watch this if he wasn’t high as a kite. ‘Is justin blowing a strap on?? Go off, i guess! Oh shit oh shit! Oh the dad is having a blast. i am honestly impressed that brian is quiet’ The scene with Ben and Mikey is on and he is not okay ‘NO MIKE NO! I mean do what makes you feel comfortable but NOOO DONT LET THEM GET TO YOU! But also I support your decision but fuck’ this obviously ended with him going for a smoke and is currently outside talking to mom and lying about why he was MIA, he also tried to turn the subject on qaf but failed badly bc his attempt was ‘how would you feel if i had a boyfriend with hiv?’ It was followed by ‘no mom, i im not gay. I’m not. HE IS JUST A FRIEND’ Keep my soul in thoughts and prayers because i am going through it.

AHAHAH YES. Exactly. Deb is such a fucking hypocrite. Ugh she is the worst about Ben’s HIV. And then Michael makes it so fucking awkward when he confronts Debbie IN FRONT OF BEN.

Your brother screaming about a) wearing a condom and b) I WANT YOU SAFE AND I WANT YOU AROUND FOR A LONG TIME is all of us. He is in the fandom. Brian DOES love him.

“our greatest fault as human beings is the need we all have to be loved, it’s the only thing we all have in common” - I know you described him as a himbo but Brother Anon is spitting some serious thoughts here.

Asking your mom how she would react if he had a boyfriend with HIV. I am dyingggggg. I love you brother.

Thoughts & Prayers Anon. You are truly doing the lord’s work.

#ask winderlylandchime #dear sweet anon #queer as folk #a straight man watches qaf us 2000 in the year of our lord 2023

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imherebabycakes · 2 years

Text

SECRETS & LOYALTY

💙🐢❤️🐢💜🐢🧡

:tbh i write for fun 🤸🏾‍♀️

:oh and I’m a black woman so i might say the word nigga from time to time. if you dont like it, well…🚪🚶🏾‍♀️

:since i dont see it alot with tmtn bayverse fan fics i will be representing different ethnicities. especially black/latino/asian

:i am not a professional writer🤷🏾‍♀️

: good and bad criticism is welcomed, cuz i dont know none of yall either way so its all good , 😗

:if there is bad punctuation, please forgive me. 🙌🏾

:please enjoy and come back again😍

:i do not own tmnt. this is just for fun. everything is to go to their respective owners!!

-present day-

my name is Neptune Star Lewis and im about to tell y’all the story about how i found out that humans or “full humans” aren’t the only ones that inhabit earth. besides already being a believer in aliens thanks to the men in black movies, I always felt that there was something more out there, and i was right.

(time rewind 2018)

- neptunes pov-

i was home in the new apartment my cousin & i just moved to in Brooklyn NY

while putting boxes away , i was talking on the phone with my cousin Blaze who was at a 24 hour cvs a few blocks away picking up her prescription for an inhaler, she has asthma and was due for a refill. over the years we had some scares where she has had asthma attacks that were vary serious that resulted in her needing hospitalization from it. she’s my best cousin & friend we tell each other everything no matter what. i don’t ever have to question her loyalty, lets just say we go back like spinal cores and car seats.

(Blaze pov)

aye tuney, (neptune’s nik name) i’m on my way back to the house now, ima hit up the corner store for some snacks do you want anything? nah im good on the junk food , but hurry yo ass up cuz I’m not putting all this stuff up by myself, my is back already starting to hurt. girl stop all that woofing, ill be home in 10-15 you big baby. ight bet….

my cousin Neptune seriously needs to take a chill pill once in a while, ever since i had my last asthma attack she’s been on my ass like stank on shit, i know she means well but damn she’s smothering me! i feel like i cant do nothing without letting her know first, she acts as if im a child. i guess that would come naturally for her being as though she’s 23 and im 19… but still she should cut me some slack. DING,DING…..diiiiing!

saved by the bell literally, i got a text from my best friend mikey,i met him 2 years ago after a potential alien invasion happened, and guess what, him and his brothers are the ones that stopped it! i know i know, hard to believe right? well not entirely. he and his 3 brothers are mutant turtles, there’s Leonardo he’s the oldest he has a more serious demeanor then its Rafael he’s all muscle and a complete jock, but he’s a sweetie pie at heart. then there’s Donatello he’s a real life genius, Albert Einstein? who det? Donatello’s intelligence is literally out of this world. and then theres my bestie Michelangelo who’s the baby out of brothers, he is emotionally intelligent, a sweet heart and will smash anyone in call of duty or mario smash bro’s. they are the most lovable selfish people i have ever met and i absolutely love them. themikester- hey blazey you wanna hang out for movie night? we got the movie aqua man. and we can order pizza & wings and i got your favorite ice cream. blaze- wassup Mikey, and thats sound good, but you know i gotta ask the warden for permission first, hopefully she gives me a pardon for tonight. themikster- damn she still ok your case huh?. blaze-yes and it’s driving me nuts,i feel like a caged bird sometimes man. themikster- well to be completely honest i can understand where she’s coming from, that last asthma attack had you in the hospital for 2 weeks, we were all so scared for you blazey! especially me. blaze- i know mikey and i get it,but tonight im busting out i don’t have any classes and im off for the weekend. so ima be there tonight! themikster- whoop whooop yess, ight call me when you’re ready tonight. blaze- ight bet

( back at the apartment)

come on tuney, ima grown ass woman, i am not a little girl anymore and i can take care of myself you know that!.

blaze, i know your grown its just i worry about you alot, im sorry if i come off like a nagging mom sometimes, but we all we got out here , so i cant help it. and you always running off to chill with these so called “friends” that i have yet to meet!! wasssup with that? we don’t keep secrets remember!!!

oh….ummm…well ummm…well when the time is right i’ll introduce you to them okay?

mmmmhhhmmm….i know you playing games , look i aint with all this secret, secret stuff ight!! your my family, my blood cousin, remember where your loyalty lies.

yea tuney, i understand no secrets…..… soooooo we cool?

like the other side of the pillow lazy….(blaze’s nik name) *laughing*

omg i hate when you call me that tuney….

bih do it look like i care? naaaah *laughing * well what time are you leaving? and are they going to bring you back home?

im leaving out at 10pm… oh…a-and i might spend the… n-night

WHAT!!…… *squints eyes* lazy, are you fucking him/them?

WHAT ? * look embarrassingly* no tuney were just friends thats it and thats all. dame!!

okay….okay, i believe you *laughing* i mean i had to ask, i haven’t seen you bring a man home at all, so i presume yo ass still a virgin, but i have noticed a difference in the way you walk them hips spreading girlfriend . well if your not fucking you definitely like or love someone….

ight,,,, ight this is getting uncomfortable…. a- and i dont like anyone.

whatever you say blaze *rolls eyes* you can deny it all you want, but i been there and done that, you got it bad cuzzo.

whatever tuney…..

even though i didn’t want to admit it, Neptune was right, im in love… not only am i in love, but its with my best friend mikey, i wanted to tell him for a while now but i didn’t wanna face possible rejection or ruin our friendship. i dont know what to do. *sigh*

(time jump10:15pm )

like clockwork Mikey and Raph met me at the man hole,

wasssup little foot

hey raphie

why do you call me that,, you know i despise that name.

i know but i think its cute

really? well then in that case i’ll allow you, and only you to call me that…

cool, beans

hey mikster whats up

blazey, wasssup beautiful

*blushing* hi mickey

so you ready for tonight, ive been waiting to see this movie! im excited, are you?

hell yea i am

ight thing one and two, lets get outta here.

(raphs pov)

little foot is so into my brother mikey its so cute, and obvious but knowing the air head he is he probably doesn’t even realize it.

(Mikey pov)

blazey is so beautiful, her Hershey brown skin and ginger brown coily hair smells and looks so good. she’s my best friend and i love her, aww hell why am i fronting i got it bad for her, i have for a while now. SHIT

(back at the apartment)

a men in black marathon was on tonight, these was my favorite movies. i was cuddled up in my blankets on my king sized bed with some wine and popcorn. every time I watch these movies I can’t help but to think that there are aliens out here living among us or hybrid humans or something like that. I guess I’m somewhat of a conspiracy theorist, but to me i don’t need proof of their existence, i can feel it in my gut that it’s true. they are out there just living. sometimes i wonder am i one, or my cousin. ight tuney chill tf out *laughing to myself* speaking of , i told that heifer to call me when she gets to her bff house. * rolls eyes* let me call her

(blazes pov)

the move is like that, and the main character is definitely eye candy.

looking around me i notice all the boys are into the movie, raph is in the big recliner knitting what looks like another blanket, donnie, leo and ,my self are all on the couch, loe is stuffing his face with gummy bears and donnie is licking yet another pop tart. mikey was on the floor spread out on the bean bag drinking numerous sodas eating popcorn and M&Ms. and all i had was my favorite ice cream(strawberry shortcake)

about 30 minutes into the movie my phone starts ringing, startling everyone in the living room.

*simultaneous gasps*

sorry guys

no phones during the movie blaze, says leo

i know leo my bad, its my cousin

is everything okay?… donnie? says

yea i forgot to call her to let her know im ok

oh ok do you want us to pause the movie?, loe says

nah, you guys continue ill be right back!

i step off and reluctantly answer,

yooo??

dont yo me ! i told yo black ass to call me when you got there!!

i know my bad i got carried away in the fun tuney dont trip.

mmhhhmmm… what you mean fun? i thought yall was just watching movies. you sure thats all you doin over there lazy?

yes tuney,we’re just chilling

yes ight well next time call me as soon as you get there.

bet.

as i was walking back to the living room i bumped into mikey

hey blazey you okay?

yea mikey im good

oh okay well the movie is getting good, so come on

o….okay right behind you.

(neptunes pov)

I honestly don’t know what to think about Blaze‘s so called friends. or the fact that I haven’t even met them yet or the fact that they’re all boys. god i hope my baby cousin ain’t on no freaky type shit like that, not that i would shame her if she was but gah lee, just the thought.well one of these days ima get to the bottom of it all, i mean why doesn’t she trust me enough to tell me about them? im honestly proud of myself for my self control because i could’ve followed her on numerous occasions to find answers, but if i did that she’d never let me forget it. and she is grown and is entitled to her privacy.

1 hour later

(blaze pov)

that movie was so good y’all i really enjoyed it.

yea it was cool. *yarns* well im pooped im goin to bed, goodnight everyone!

night leo

night brah

night

goodnight leo, guys im kinda tired to,

you can sleep in my room tonight little foot, i have to finish this blanket, then i’ll probably go workout

NO!!!…iii…i mean she can sleep in my room, i cleaned up and everything.

*collectively staring at mikey*

oooookay……anyways, guys the couch is fine, im not a guest anymore remember, im good.

if you say so. well ill be in my lab if you need me.

later little foot.

30 minutes later

as many blankets that i have on the couch it’s still kind of uncomfortable sometimes, maybe I should’ve took raphs offer to sleep in his bed instead. plus its cold out here to and a little creepy

i wonder if mikey is still awake?

welp lemme find out….

( mikey’s pov)

i cannot sleep, i just keep thinking about blazey.

she’s so beautiful and smart and down to hearth. she’s perfect to me

KNOCK Knock

mikey you up?

blazey?

yea?

come in!!!

sup,…..ummm.y…you okay

yea its just, well… its cold and creepy out there…….can i sleep with you please!!

*screams internally*

umm yeas sure, come one

thanks mikester

omg she’s smells so damn good, and she’s so warm. god help me

umm mikey?

yes?

are you okay you seem a little stiff?

*hell no, yo fine sexy chocolate ass is in my bed, wearing booty shorts and a tank top on. i can see the nipple piercings through the shirt. omg im gonna pass out*

oh yea im fine

well then come on, cuddle with me

*i hope little mikey doesn’t get up*

okay….sure

nuzzled under my neck lies the woman that i am head over hills for,

about 15 minutes later, she turns around and now her big bubble ass is against dick. god help me

*lil mikey wants out!!!! *

*twitch, twitch*

i back up from her, and what does she do?

she backs that thang back up on me, and puts my hand over her stomach. this woman is trying to kill me!

*twitch twitch*

(blaze pov)

for some reason mikey is acting weird, this ain’t The first time I’ve slept in his bed. so im confused

i drift off to sleep,but after awhile i notice that mikey moved off and away from me, so i moved closer to him, my back to his chest and i pulled his arm over me. no sooner then i do that i feel too vary hard taps on my ass.

*i know that ain’t what i think it is*

um mikey

yes

you good

umm… y-yea im good

*tap tap*

mikey why are you touching my ass?

im sorry blazey, its my dick, when you leaned back on me you rubbed it. and i honestly cant help it

omg im sorry mikey i didn’t mean it ill go back on the couch.

NO PLEASE DONT GO!!!!!

okay i wont…are you okay mikey?

honestly no…n-no im not

what’s wrong, you know you can tell me anything

i know, blazey

so go ahead, im all ears

* unbeknownst to me this big star burst full of love was about to pour his heart out… to me!*

BLAZE IM IN LOVE WITH YOU ! and i have been for months now, since the first time I saw you I knew that I wanted you to be in my life whether it be friends or more. you’re so smart,funny,kind the most importantly beautiful. and every time I see you my heart flutters. blazey you bring me to climax without sex..(2pac reference) and i love you with all my heart.

surprised at his words all my dumb ass i could say was….. woah… just woah. “really blaze”but i honestly felt the same way he did, but i didn’t get a chance to say my peace because i guess by my lack of words his confidence deteriorated & he started back tracking.

its stupid huh? to think that an ugly mutant like me would ever have a chance with a woman like you, im outtah here!!wha…. what are y….. mikey where are you going!!

away from here!!!!

MIKEY WAIT…. STOP!!!

ugh this man got me chasing him in the middle of the night

about five minutes later I come a section in the sewer where the guys used to play when they were younger. raph and donnie showed me this place a little while after ide met them, and as i walk a little further inside lo and behold there was my Mikey. as i approached him I noticed his face and eyes were puffy from crying.

mikster…..i…umm…i need to say something

I already know what you’re going to say.

oh really…. well enlighten me please

yes,…..you’re gonna say “ I like you as a friend Mikey” “I would never be with an ugly monster like you” “i’d rather be with a human” “i wouldn’t be caught dead with a beat like you”

a bit annoyed at his remark, i sigh and cross my arms over my chest Mikey come on now, does that even sound like something I would say to you? thats not even my M.O

i… i don’t know blazey. im a bit emotional and confused right now

well listen up, kneeling in front of him i grab his hands and try to look him in his gorgeous sky blue eyes. but he won’t look at me at all. with a little more aggressiveness i grab his chin making him look at me. and repeat myself

i have something to say!!

*clears throat*

I LOVE YOU TO Michelangelo

he looks at me dead in my face and tears starts to form in his eyes when he says

you…you…love me?

of course i do , very much i said with a huge smile on my face. but no sooner did his tears come, they soon left his Face scrunched up in anger and he shouted at me….me!!

look ima a big boy you don’t have to pity me with lies okay!! i can take your rejection but the lying is to much for me

sitting there appalled I honestly don’t know if I wanna Kimbo slice his ass or bust out laughing at the false accusations he had of me. so me going on instinct i jump the gun and smash my lips ever so gently into his. he smelled of honey buns and tasted like milk chocolate.. gaaah leee what have i been missing. then out the cut all I feel are too big hands cuff my ass and give it a squeeze. & did i stop it???

hell tf no!!!

muttering through us kissing, all i hear is a hazy lustful mikey say, da….aamn blazeeey. i… i love you! ahh…an… deeet…..aaaass

HORNEY AINT EVEN THE WORD !

multiple parts are definitely in the works!!! i just had to get this off my mind before i forgot

#tmnt #tmnt 2016 #tmnt 2014 #tmnt fandom #tmnt bayverse #tmnt leonardo #tmnt mikey #tmnt donnie #tmnt ralph #tmnt smut #fanfic #bayverse donatello #bayverse michelangelo #teenage mutant ninja turtles bayverse #bayverse leo #bayverse raph

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mamakitty187 · 2 years

Text

Bad Ideas

Billy Hargrove x Eddie Munson

Rating: Explict

Warnings: rough sex, attempted non-con, gay slurs

A/N: Okay, so this one reeeeally got away from me... but once the idea hit me I just *had* to write it. Anywho, I hope yall like it!

Also available on ao3, here.

——— ——— ———

Billy Hargrove is many things - hot, mean, dangerous. But he is not gay. That’s what he tells himself anyway. He loves to fuck - loves it. He loves the feel of burying his cock in something tight and hot. And there’s nothing gay about that. Besides, he’s fucked nearly every woman in Hawkins, and a few from the surrounding towns too. Doesn’t matter how young or old (within reason), as long as it’s a hole he’ll fuck it. Mouth, pussy… ass… he loves fucking a nice, tight ass, probably more than anything else. Watching his cock disappear into the other person’s greedy little hole just drives him fucking wild. Making them scream his name, dragging his nails down their back or spanking them til their cheeks are red and hot. And when he’s done, shoving them off and watching his cum leak down their thighs.

There’s nothing gay about that, no matter who that hole is attached to. Billy fucks.

———

Eddie’s never been big on labels. Everyone’s gonna call him a freak no matter what (or who) he does anyway, so why should he waste his precious time biting his nails over what they’ll call him next? However, he is careful who he invites into his bed. Rarely is it anyone from school, more often it’s a post-concert (or deal) hookup. A lot of the time it’s a girl, but not always. He’s never really dated anyone, mostly because he’s never found anyone that wanted to date him. But it doesn’t bother him much, he’s got his band, his Hellfire club, his small circle of friends. And once he (eventually) graduates, he’s gonna get the hell out of Indiana anyway, and none of it will matter.

———

Eddie didn’t know what Billy’s problem with him was lately. He’d caught the resident ‘bad boy’ staring daggers at him any time they crossed paths, and it was making him curious. He was pretty sure they hadn’t banged the same chick, and even if they had, Billy was even less interested in repeat-hookups than himself. He knew he hadn’t sold him anything, so it’s not like he got shorted. Eddie shrugged; whatever his problem was, either he’d confront Eddie about it or he wouldn’t. No skin off his nuts either way. After school, Eddie went out to the picnic table in the woods. He didn’t have any deals lined up, but sometimes someone’ll just show up. He sat on the table with his feet on the bench, his back away from the school. A lit Camel hung from his lips as he scribbled some lyrics in a notebook, humming along to the melody in his head. He didn’t hear the footsteps behind him, and definitely didn’t see the hand reaching for the back of his shirt until he was dragged back. “What the fuck!” “Shut up, Munson,” Billy growled, and shoved his face down against the table. “You’ve got a lot of fucking nerve, you know that?”

“Woah man, whatever you think I did it wasn’t me, okay?” Eddie helds his hands up at his sides, trying to look back at the man behind him. “I said, shut up. You think you’re real slick with this shit, huh?” Billy pulled the bandana from Eddie’s back pocket and shoved it in his face. “It’d be funny if it wasn’t so pathetic. You really think you’re a top? You? You couldn’t top a fucking ice cream sundae.” Eddie tried again to look back at him, his brow furrowed. “Okay, I missed something, what the fuck are you talking about?”

“Don’t play fucking stupid,” Billy huffed, finally releasing Eddie and stepping back. He plucked the cigarette from where it’d fallen on the table and took a drag. “Wear that shit on the right side next time, or someone’s gonna sue for false advertising.”

Eddie turned to him, still utterly perplexed. Billy took another drag, then flicked the butt in Eddie’s face before turning away. He paused, glancing over his shoulder for a moment, then sneered and shook his head as he walked away. Eddie didn’t move; he barely breathed as he watched Billy disappear into the woods. When he was sure he was alone, he groaned and adjusted himself. Stupid fucking jackass getting him riled up for no reason. Eddie grabbed his lunchbox and his jacket and headed for his van, replaying the scene over and over, searching for any clue what the fuck that had been about.

It wasn’t until a couple weeks later that he figured it out. He was in the city for a concert, doing some shopping before heading to the venue. He walked into one of his favorite record stores and checked the bulletin board for any new gig potentials, and that’s when he saw it. Sticking out from behind a few layers of concert posters and guitarist-wanted flyers, there was a pamphlet for something called “The Hanky Code”. Eddie moved the other papers aside and looked it over. His eyes scanned down the list of colors and meanings. Black bandana, worn in the back left pocket - s&m top. This couldn’t be what Billy was talking about though, because how the hell would Billy Hargrove of all people know about a code system for gay kink? And even if he did, why would he be pissed at Eddie for “misrepresenting”, unless… “Holy shit.” Eddie stepped back from the board and covered his mouth. He didn’t know whether to be shocked or amused, or both.

When he got back to school on Monday, he kept a subtle eye on Billy. He was careful, that much was sure. But when he thought no one was looking, Eddie saw the other guy’s eyes drift up and down some decidedly not-female bodies. Son of a bitch… Eddie laughed out loud the first time he caught it. The sound drew Billy’s attention, his blue eyes snapping to the metalhead from across the cafeteria with a nasty sneer. Eddie just smirked and shook his head, then turned back to his conversation about the next Hellfire session. He caught Billy glaring at him more than ever after that, but it didn’t bother him any more. Eddie was pretty sure he had it figured out now - the dude was jealous, pissed off that Eddie didn’t care who talked, that he had the freedom that already being an outcast provided. If it came out that Eddie was into guys as much as girls, no one would bat an eye - just another item on the list of what made him a freak. But if anyone caught wind that Billy was anything other than a full-blooded skirt-chaser… Eddie couldn’t imagine it going well for him. Poor guy. Maybe that’s why Eddie started catching Billy’s eye more often, giving him subtle nods and smirks, and even a wink or two. Billy obviously needed an outlet, and if Eddie was totally honest, it’s not like he hadn’t thought about how their meeting in the woods could’ve ended differently. Eddie was always down for a good time, and if the rumors were true, Billy knew how to provide. Was it risky? Sure, but Eddie wasn’t scared of him, not now. Not when he knew he had the upper hand.

Eddie still went to the picnic table after school every day, sometimes doing deals, other times just smoking and writing. After a week and a half he was getting tired of waiting for something to happen. It’d been a long day, he was tired and hungry, and wanted to go home. Just as he was packing up his stuff, he heard footsteps approaching. “Closing up shop so make it quick,” he said without turning around.

“Thought I told you to cut that shit out.” Billy’s voice was gruff, but quiet, and it sent a tingle down Eddie’s spine. “What, this?” Eddie smirked and looked over his shoulder, tugging at the bandana in his back pocket. “Funny story, I didn’t know this meant anything til you brought it up. I just like having my bandana on hand.” He turned around and leaned against the picnic table, his arms crossed and a smirk on his lips. “But you… you seem to know exactly what it meant. Wonder how that happened.”

“Fuck you, Munson,” Billy spat, but Eddie just grinned wider. “When and where, Hargrove?”

In an instant Billy had closed the space between them, grabbing a fistful of Eddie’s curls and pulling his head back, his other hand wrapping around Eddie’s throat. “Yeah you’d like that, wouldn’t you? I should, just to wipe that stupid fucking smile off your face. You think you’re so god damn hot, don’t you?” Eddie swallowed hard, and his hands gripped the edge of the table until his knuckles blanched. “No, but… but I think you do,” he said with a strained voice as Billy squeezed his throat tighter. He braced himself, for what he didn’t know - a punch maybe, a knee to the balls, or maybe, just maybe, something more pleasure than pain. He got none of those as Billy practically shoved him backwards, then backed away. “Eleven o’clock. Your shitty trailer.” Billy glared at him, then turned and stalked away again.

Holy shit… Eddie honestly hadn’t expected Billy to actually take the bait. He looked down at his hands, not surprised to see them shaking slightly. This was a bad idea… Eddie was playing with fire, and he knew it. But sometimes it’s hard to resist that burn.

It was 10:59 when Eddie heard the roar of an engine and the squeal of tires outside his window. He sat up and opened the door, only to be shoved inside by Billy. “Hey to you too,” he laughed as he shut the door. “So, uh, welcome to my castle. Sorry bout the mess, it uh… yeah…” “Like I give a fuck. Bedroom, now.” “Well aren’t you a romantic,” Eddie chuckled, but led the way back to his bedroom. He’d at least had time to clean up in here somewhat, and lit some incense to cover up the smell of weed and cigarette smoke. He was nervous, he could admit that to himself at least. Not because of any kind of feelings for the other man, far from it; he was just worried what Billy would do, what he was capable of. He was trusting a guy who absolutely, under no circumstances, should ever be trusted. And he’d invited him into his home, his sanctuary. What the fuck had he been thinking? Oh yeah, he’d been thinking about how hard Billy probably fucks. “Lemme just throw some music on. These walls aren’t exactly sound-proof.” Eddie looked through his tapes, picking out something by Metallica. He heard Billy scoff and mutter something under his breath, but decided it was safer to ignore it. “So, how you wanna-” “Shut up, and get on your knees.” Billy glared at him as he unbuckled his belt and unzipped his jeans. “You gonna stand the whole time? I got a perfectly good bed right there.” “You think I wanna sit on that nasty fucking piss-stained piece of shit mattress?” Billy reached out and grabbed Eddie’s hair again. “I said. Get on. Your knees.” He pushed, forcing Eddie down, and Eddie let him. Eddie’s eyes widened when Billy used his free hand to pull his cock out. It was impressive, a solid seven or eight inches at least.

“Well well, the rumors are true. Guess you’re not all talk, huh?” Eddie knew it was a bad idea to piss Billy off, but he couldn’t help it. Still, he didn’t expect to get backhanded so hard his head whipped around. “Bout time someone put that fucking mouth of yours to good use, Munson.” Billy adjusted the grip he had on Eddie’s hair and pulled his face forwards. Eddie for his part held back any further quips, and licked a stripe up Billy’s shaft. He felt the man above him shiver, and smirked before doing it again. He lapped at it slowly, teasingly. But he could tell Billy was getting impatient, so before too much time went by he wrapped his hand around the thick cock, and sucked the tip into his mouth. Billy stared down, watching silently and with a stony expression. The hand not in Munson’s hair hung at his side, balled into a tight fist. He let Eddie go at his own pace for maybe a minute, before grumbling and forcing his cock down the other man’s throat. Eddie coughed and squeezed his eyes shut, but when he managed to adjust he looked up at Billy and gave a thumbs up. Billy rolled his eyes and pulled back before thrusting again. He set a brutal pace, and Eddie struggled to keep from gagging. Eddie pressed the heel of his palm against his own growing hard-on, moaning around Billy’s cock. He figured Billy would be rough, counted on it… hoped for it, maybe even. Eddie wasn’t ashamed of what he liked, but that didn’t make getting it any easier, so it’d been a while since he’d been treated so roughly. He closed his eyes and groaned as he rubbed himself through his jeans. “Yeah, that’s what I thought,” Billy muttered, gripping Eddie’s hair tighter. “Look at you, choking on my cock like a fucking slut.” He pulled Eddie’s head back again, smirking as the other guy gasped for breath, a line of spit hanging from his lip. Eddie opened his eyes, and he could only guess how blown out they must’ve looked.

Billy shoved him backwards towards the bed. Eddie stumbled as he turned around, hands fumbling with his belt. As soon as Billy heard the zipper he grabbed the waist of Eddie’s jeans in both hands and ripped them down. “Fuck, someone’s eager,” Eddie panted, but yelped when Billy brought a hand down on his ass with a resounding smack. “Shit… bedside drawer.” He pointed with a shaky hand, then kneeled on the side of his mattress. Billy yanked the drawer open, sending a lighter and some papers off the top, and grabbed the jar of Vaseline out before slamming it shut again, this time sending an ashtray rattling to the floor. “H-hey man, easy with the goods.” Eddie’s voice trembled, and this time he wasn’t as surprised by the spank. He hung his head, muttering a curse, and wrapped his fist around his own aching erection. Billy looked down at the blooming red handprints. He smiled darkly and left a few more, relishing every moan and curse he drew from the man under him. “Fuck, you really are a needy little slut, aren’t you? I could beat the shit out of you and you’d probably get off on it.”

Eddie shook his head, he wasn’t a masochist, not really… but he gasped as Billy yanked on his hair again, pulling his head back at a sharp angle. A moment later he hissed as he felt two thick fingers being pushed into him roughly. “Ow fuck, come on man not s-so… fuck…” At least Billy’d been kind enough to use some lubrication, though not much. Eddie gritted his teeth, his fingers grasping at his sheets as he tried to breathe through the pain. Billy twisted and pushed his fingers at a brutal pace, and the pain was almost too much. Eddie was starting to see stars already when he felt a third finger being pressed against his hole. Thankfully Billy slowed his pace as he eased it in with the others, spreading and stretching. The pain finally dissipated into pleasure, and Eddie panted, his tongue lolling out of his mouth. He couldn’t even focus enough to touch himself, but it didn’t look like that was going to matter.

All of a sudden Billy’s touch was gone, and Eddie fell forward awkwardly. His arms felt like lead as he pushed himself up and looked over his shoulder. Billy was stroking himself, his cock glistening with a thin coating of lubrication, and Eddie felt his mouth water. Damn it, he wasn’t supposed to want it this bad. He met Billy’s eyes, which seemed to piss the other man off. He gripped Eddie’s hair again (always with the hair…) and shoved his face into the mattress as he moved behind him. Eddie braced himself, knowing full well Billy was going to make this hurt. Billy actually showed some restraint, but he hadn’t prepped Eddie enough, and as the head of his cock pressed against the tight hole Eddie whined and clawed at the sheets. It seemed to go on forever, and Eddie wondered if Billy’s cock had somehow grown longer. But finally he felt the other man’s hips pressed firmly against his ass, holding still. He pressed a hand to the small of Eddie’s back, and Eddie felt like he’d have a scorch mark in its place. His own cock was trapped between his body and the mattress, and he squirmed to seek some friction. “Fuck, knew you’d know how to take a cock,” Billy moaned. Eddie whined again and pushed back. “Little slut, fucking begging for it.” He pulled his hips back, then slammed them forward again, and Eddie cried out. Once more Billy tangled his fingers in Eddie’s locks and pulled backwards, using his hair like reins on a horse as he drove into him again and again. Eddie couldn’t remember the last time he’d been fucked this brutally, if he ever had. The line between pleasure and pain blurred, moreso as Billy brought his other hand down on his ass time and time again. He tried to push back, to give some kind of response, but it was all he could do to hang on and let Billy take him however he wanted. The tape that had been playing ended, and suddenly the room was full of the sounds of skin on skin, Billy grunting and Eddie whining and moaning. “Shut up,” Billy barked, and moved the hand on Eddie’s back to his throat. Eddie’s eyes went wide, and for the first time he felt a spark of genuine fear. He could feel Billy’s fingernails digging into his flesh, and he knew he’d have marks. That probably shouldn’t have turned him on even more, but he was Eddie the Freak, after all. “You wanna get off, you better do it yourself,” Billy grunted. Eddie’s hand shook as he wrapped it around his own cock, trying to match Billy’s insane pace as he stroked himself. It was too much, too fast, too hard… Billy slammed his hips forward, his grip on Eddie’s hair and throat tightening. Eddie started to feel lightheaded, tears pricking at his eyes, and a voice in the back of his head told him he’d known all along this was a stupid idea. And then, as Billy let out a noise somewhere between a growl and a scream, his cock pulsed and throbbed, painting Eddie’s insides with his seed. Eddie keened, his own dick twitching as he coated his hand and the sheets beneath him with his own release.

Billy pulled out roughly, dropping Eddie to the mattress in a shivering heap. Eddie heard rustling, and struggled to look behind him; Billy had grabbed some tissues to clean himself up, and was already zipping up his jeans. He looked Eddie over with a cold smile.

“Almost wish I could get a picture of this.” “You gonna…” Eddie swallowed, his mouth bone dry. “Put it up in your locker?” He watched as Billy scowled, lunging forward and gripping him by the nape of the neck and pulling him upright. “You tell anybody, and I mean anybody about this, and they won’t even find your fucking body. You got that, Munson?” Eddie nodded weakly, still struggling to make his sore throat work properly. He was dropped again, and a moment later his door slammed shut, followed by the door to the trailer. He lay there as he listened to the engine outside rev loudly, tires throwing up gravel as Billy’s car peeled out and sped away. He lay there for a long time, aching all over. Slowly he cleaned himself up and crawled into bed, curling up. He’d be sore as fuck the next morning, he knew it. But at least he’d had fun… for the most part. When he woke up the next day he was in even more pain that he’d anticipated. He dragged himself to the bedroom, and his reflection shocked him - hair a tangled mess, eyes bloodshot, neck red and bruised, lips dry and cracking. He looked like hell. He took a shower, sighing as the hot water helped soothe his aching muscles. He thought about playing hooky, but remembered he had a quiz in Mrs O’Donnell’s class, and he couldn’t afford another zero. So after his shower he got dressed and hopped in his van (well, more like gingerly sat) and drove to school, getting there just as the first bell rang. He spotted Billy at lunch, but made sure not to look over for too long. Still, he could see the appraising look the other man gave him, his lips curling up a fraction before he looked away. Like he was proud of his handiwork. Eddie expected that to be the end of it. Billy had gotten his fix, and so had he. Days went by, and the marks on his neck faded away. Eddie played his weekly show at The Hideout, and brought home a girl that’d wandered in halfway through. It was good, but it didn’t scratch that same itch. A couple weeks later Eddie was laying in bed, smoking a joint and listening to his new Megadeth album, when he heard a familiar car outside. As soon as he opened the door Billy was there, grabbing him by the back of the neck and dragging him to the bedroom, slamming the door shut behind him. And that’s how it started. Every couple weeks or so, Billy would just show up at Eddie’s trailer, fuck him raw, and then leave with a threat of violence if word ever left those four walls. Eddie put up with it, mostly because he loved the way it felt when Billy manhandled him. But he didn’t love the bruises on his neck and ass, or the sore scalp from having his hair constantly yanked. And he was getting real tired of the constant sneers and threatening looks Billy gave him throughout the days in between. He knew Billy was using him, just as much as he was using Billy, but the hypocrisy made him sick.

It wasn’t that Eddie had feelings for Billy - far from it. He hated everything about him, other than the sex. He didn’t like how he treated anyone he saw as beneath him (so, everybody); he didn’t like how he carried himself like he was untouchable. He really didn’t like how he treated his kid sister, and that was just based off what he saw. Someone needed to put him in his place. Eddie just wasn’t that guy.

He started wondering what Billy would do if he turned him down. Would he get pissed off, or just leave? Eddie wasn’t sure, and he wasn’t sure he wanted to find out. But the next time Billy stopped by, Eddie just wasn’t in the mood. When he answered the door he blocked the way, standing his ground so Billy couldn’t shove him back. “Not tonight, Hargrove. I’m fucking beat.”

“Got a headache?” Billy sneered. “Too bad.” “Yeah, too bad for you,” Eddie replied, rolling his eyes. “Better luck next time.” He watched as Billy’s jaw tensed, his hands clenching and unclenching. “You really think you can say no to me? With how bad you were begging for it last time? Shit, you were fucking crying.” “First off,” Eddie scoffed, “no I wasn’t. Second, yeah I do, and I’ll prove it - no.” He quickly shut his door, flipping the lock. He stood there a minute, not counting on Billy giving up that easy. But to his surprise, he did hear Billy’s Camaro pulling away from the trailer. So maybe it really was that simple. Eddie woke with a start to someone banging on his door. He rubbed his eyes and looked at the clock - it was nearing 2 in the morning. The pounding continued, along with a familiar voice yelling his name. “Open the god damn door, Munson!” Billy shouted, then went back to banging. Eddie grumbled and tossed the blankets aside; if he’d been thinking more clearly, he might’ve grabbed a shirt instead of answering the door in just his boxers.

“Hargrove, what the fuck do you want?” He opened the main door but kept the screen door locked. “Holy shit dude, you smell like a bar at closing time.”

“Let me in, Munson,” Billy growled. His eyes were glazed, and his lips glistened with spit. If it wasn’t the middle of the night, Eddie might’ve considered it. “No way. Go sleep it off somewhere else, man; I’m sure you’ve got ten kinds of pussy on speed dial. Or dick,” he added with a smirk. “Fuck you!” Billy shouted suddenly, making Eddie jump. “I’m not like you, Freak. Don’t you think for a god damn second I’m anything like you. Now shut the fuck up and open the fucking door!”

Eddie looked around as a dog started barking. “Jesus, Hargrove, you trying to wake the fucking neighborhood? Go the fuck home, seriously. Deal with your closet-shit on your own time.”

“You’re gonna regret this, Munson. Nobody says no to me. Nobody.” “Yeah yeah, I’m sure.” Eddie rolled his eyes again. “Have fun with the hangover.” He closed the door and leaned against it. He was wide awake now, and as he listened for the sound of the Camaro’s engine, the silence stretched on. Suddenly something hit the side of the trailer with a loud bang, followed by the sound of glass shattering.

“Jesus Christ,” Eddie gasped, jumping back. “Fucking faggot!” Billy screamed. “I’m gonna tell everyone what a god damn fag you are! You’re gonna fucking regret this!” “Shit,” Eddie breathed. He peered out the window and saw Billy standing there glaring at the trailer. After a few tense moments he got in his Camaro and sped away. Eddie backed up to lean against the kitchen counter, his heart hammering in his chest. Yeah, maybe this really was a bad idea after all…

The next day, Eddie tried not to think about the night before. Maybe Billy had gone home and slept it off; maybe he wouldn’t even remember it today. Eddie really hoped that was the case. He spotted Billy in the hall after third period - dark sunglasses covering what Eddie assumed was a pretty gnarly hangover face. He saw the other guy’s head turn in his direction, but he quickly turned down a side hall to escape. It wasn’t that he was afraid of him; he just didn’t wanna deal with Billy’s drama.

He was heading back in from lunch when he got called to the principal’s office. He was mostly sure he hadn’t broken any rules today, so he was more than a little confused. Principal Higgins met him in the hall, commanding him to follow. As they approached Eddie’s locker, he groaned, seeing the problem already.

“You want to explain this?” Principal Higgins asked sternly, pointing to the locker. The word ‘fag’ was spray painted across it in bright pink. “Vandalism is a serious offense, son.”

Eddie stared at him, one eyebrow up.

“You think I sprayed a slur on my own locker?”

“Don’t get cute with me,” the older man huffed. “You’re gonna go to the janitors office and get some paint remover and a rag, and you’re going to scrub this locker until it’s good as new. And whatever you miss in your classes is up to you to make up.”

“This is bullshit!” Eddie scowled. “Why am I getting hit for this?”

“Enough. Get to work, Munson, or I’ll have you suspended.”

Eddie scoffed as the principal walked away, and flipped him off behind his back. He went to get the cleaning supplies, grumbling to himself the whole time. Of course he knew who did this; it sucked, but it was kinda tame compared to what he’d feared. It took him the better part of an hour to strip the paint from the metal, and there was a faint outline from where he’d had to scrub extra hard.

The bell rang just as he was wiping his hands off on his jeans, the halls flooding with people. He could hear the whispers, feel the eyes on him. Big deal, he was used to that. But he wasn’t used to people keeping such a wide berth around him as he headed to his next class. Whatever, he thought, these sheep see one word of graffiti and jump to conclusions. But the stares and whispers kept happening, more than usual. He stopped between classes to eavesdrop, and it didn’t take long to hear what the buzz was all about. “Did you hear the freak tried to hit on Jackson at that party last week?” “I heard he did the same thing to Scott West.” “A friend of mine said he knows a guy who Eddie tried to jump after selling him some speed.”

Eddie’s blood ran cold. To be outed, yeah that sucked. But to be accused of being that aggressive, that predatory... that one hurt. Eddie stood facing his locker for a long time, his hands shaking. He shouldn’t have been surprised Billy would stoop that low, but he didn’t expect he’d actually go there.

After school he went to his usual spot. He had a couple deals already lined up from the past couple days, but as he sat waiting, the woods were silent and empty. He hated getting stood up, but given the rumor mill, he probably should’ve expected it. Still, one of them was a regular, someone Eddie would even call a friend. Someone that definitely should’ve known better. He grumbled as he packed up his stuff and walked back out onto school grounds. The parking lot was still a little busy, with after-school clubs having just gotten out. He crossed the lot to his van, but stopped halfway there.

The same graffiti that had been left on his locker was gracing all four sides - including the windshield - of his van. Eddie seethed; nobody messed with his ride. He looked around, and suddenly a wave of laughter spread across the crowd. And then the shouts started. Eddie tried to ignore them as he stomped to his van, slamming the door shut as he got in. He could barely see around the hot pink coating the windshield. He turned his music up to a deafening volume and revved his engine loudly before peeling out of the lot.

He almost didn’t go home, afraid of what he might find there. But if he was gonna disappear for a couple days to let this blow over, he was gonna need some supplies.

He pulled into the trailer park and swore. Billy’s Camaro was parked outside his trailer, the asshole leaning against the side and smoking a cigarette. Eddie stopped, seriously considering turning tail and running. But what good would that really do? He couldn’t just run away completely. So he pushed forward, white-knuckled hands gripping the steering wheel as he pulled in next to Billy’s car. “Shouldn’t have said no to me,” Billy said as Eddie got out of his van, slamming the door hard enough to rock the vehicle.

“Just what the fuck is your problem, Hargrove?” Eddie snapped. “Scratch that, I know exactly what your problem is. But that’s just it - it’s your problem, not mine. Find someone else to be your guilty fuck.”

Eddie shoved past him and started into his trailer, but he was shoved forward, falling into the counter that divided the kitchen and living room. He didn’t have time to react before he heard the door being locked shut behind him, and then he was being bent over, his face pressed against the laminate countertop. He struggled, but froze when he felt the cold sting of a knife being pressed against his throat. “You move one fucking muscle and you’re a dead man,” Billy growled, his voice low and dangerously calm. Eddie swallowed hard, his eyes watering. He really never should have given Billy the time of day, let alone let him start all of this. He’d always been so careful before, for this exact reason. It was stupid, so stupid, and now he was gonna regret that stupidity forever.

Eddie felt Billy’s hand on his back, tugging at the waist of his jeans, and he panicked. Everything happened in a blur as he kicked backwards, spun around and wrestled the knife from Billy’s hand, shoved Billy back, took a swipe with the knife that missed, took another swipe that sliced Billy’s cheek. Both men froze for a long, tense moment. A faint trickle of blood dripped down Billy’s cheek.

“Get the fuck out of my house,” Eddie said, his voice shaking but thick with conviction. “Or I swear to god I’ll cut it off.”

Billy continued to stare at him, and Eddie mentally braced himself for the worst. But then the blond scoffed.

“Wasn’t even that good,” he muttered, reaching behind himself to open the door.

“And don’t come back,” Eddie added, pointing the knife for emphasis. Billy walked backwards out the door and down the steps, eyeing Eddie like a dangerous animal. When he got to his car he shook his head and got in, music blaring. He revved his engine once, then backed up and pulled away in a cloud of dust and gravel.

“Eddie?”

Eddie jumped a mile, turning to see his uncle staring at him from the hallway. He felt all the blood drain from his face as he looked at his uncle’s concerned face, and the pistol he held tight in his grip. The older man took a step closer, then another; he set the gun down as he approached his nephew. “It’s okay, he’s gone. You can relax now.” Eddie nodded, lowering the knife in his still-shaking hand. He rubbed his face, wiping away the tears he hadn’t noticed falling.

“It’s okay,” his uncle said again, softer. He closed the distance, pulling Eddie into a tight embrace. “It’s okay,” he whispered, as his nephew crumbled, sniffling and sobbing into his uncle’s shoulder.

Hours later, they sat beside each other on the couch, beers in hand, some old black and white rerun on the tv. Eddie looked over at his uncle for the umteenth time since that afternoon, and smiled. His uncle smiled back and patted his shoulder; a laugh track on the tv drew both their attention, and they joined in as the characters got themselves into yet another predicament, one that both Munsons knew they’d get out of scott-free. Sometimes Eddie wished life was like that, where every problem could be wrapped up in thirty minutes or left. But even if that wasn’t true, he was grateful he had people he could count on. Over the next few days, things went back to normal. Eddie’s uncle helped scrub the van clean, and it stayed that way. The rumor mills moved on to their next target, and within a week nobody even bothered a second glance at Eddie the Freak. His sales bounced back, and he even received a few phone numbers hidden between the bills. Once in a while he caught Billy’s eye across the hall or the cafeteria but the blond never looked for more than a moment, and Eddie was more than okay with that.

It had been a hell of a mistake, that was for damn sure. But it had been a hell of a ride. Not one he’d want to repeat any time soon, but he didn’t exactly regret it either. Largely because now his uncle and him had a new understanding. It wasn’t like he’d thought his uncle would reject him, but it had still hung over his head, a secret between family that didn’t keep secrets. But now that it (and he) was out, it was like a weight was lifted off his chest.

He still pitied Billy, in a way. Maybe if things had gone different they could’ve been friends. Maybe if Billy’d had someone like his uncle, someone to tell him it was okay. He hoped Billy found someone like that, before that rage destroyed him. Because he could see it coming, and he was pretty sure Billy could too.

But that wasn’t his problem; it hadn’t been before, and it definitely wasn’t his problem now. He had bigger problems, like trying to finally graduate high school, and getting out of this shithole of a town. He had a whole lifetime ahead of him, with plenty of big dreams to fulfill. This was the year it was gonna happen, he could feel it. 1986 was gonna be his year.

#stranger things #eddie munson #billy hargrove #billy hargrove x eddie munson

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laheysdork · 3 years

Text

stay - mitch rapp

request: (x)

word count: 8.7k

warnings: death, guns, blood, violence, pretty angsty but ends with fluff so dont worry yall ;))

a/n: my first mitch fic aaaa and it’s the longest fic i’ve ever written whattt??? i really went all out on this and did a whole lot of brainstorming for the reader’s background story. and i’m sorry in advance if there are inaccuracies with the plot since i’m pretty clueless on these kinda stuff. feedbacks will be very much appreciated! <3

masterlist

Friday, 2 July 2011

The balmy summer breeze brushed by you, the strands of hair resting on the front of your face were lightly brushed back. Carrying a bag of snacks you had packed earlier at home, your feet brought you through the thinning crowd, heading towards your accustomed spot.

As you tread along, you couldn’t help but look at the sky. It was blue and clear, the morning sun had completely emerged but in a way that it wasn’t scorching or parched like most days lately, the right amount of heat engulfing your skin.

After walking for a minute or so, you finally reached your destination, the sunlight replaced by a cool shade from the bleachers above you as you slumped down on the concrete ground.

For as long as you could remember, you have always enjoyed spending the recess here where it’s peaceful and calm, the packed cafeteria being too chaotic and rowdy for your likings.

Opening the top of the paper bag that was clutched in your hands, you took out the bag of chips, tearing the wrapper open.

A few chips in, you could hear footsteps approaching you, halting right in front of you, a silhouette soon overshadowed you. You lifted your head, eyes meeting the way-too-familiar brunette you’re expecting in his usual red varsity jacket as he towered over you.

“Hey, douchebag!” you greeted the boy in an upbeat tone.

“Morning, dumbass,” he replied, a cheeky grin on his face.

“Dumbass? Really?” He shrugged at your insulted query as he settled down opposite of you.

“Don’t you dare call me dumb, Rapp. You’d have to kiss Syracuse goodbye if it weren’t for me,” you boasted brazenly before dumping another chip into your mouth.

“Okay, fine. Now give me those chips.” He stretched his arms to reach out for your bag of chips but you beat him to it, pulling it back towards you protectively.

“Come on! I’ll treat you some pizza tomorrow,” he whined like a little kid whose toys got taken away.

Knowing the unconvinced look on your face, he proceeded to negotiate. “And ice cream.”

At that statement, your face brightened up, a satisfied smirk creeping up his lips at the success of his attempt.

“Okay, you got me there.” You gave in to his bribes, knowing very well you won’t be able to resist him anyways while shoving the bag to him. He delightedly accepted it, mumbling a small thank you before devouring your snack.

“So, you’re going to the bonfire party tonight?” He swallowed one last chip, licking the seasoning off his fingers while glancing up at you through his lashes.

Oh my, this man really knew what he’s doing.

You felt your year-long commitment to deter your feelings towards him collapsed, the little butterflies started roaming around in the pit of your stomach once again.

It all started in middle school. When the reserved new kid who had gotten himself kicked out from numerous boarding schools needed someone to show him around the school, what’s a better idea than to assign the academically excellent kid for that job?

Just like that, the mini private school tour had prompted the two of you to be inseparable, a spark igniting within you both. He had been a tough one to crack, but something about you had made him warm up, slowly crumbling down the walls he’d built because of his parents’ accident. As time went by, the quiet, enclosed Mitch Rapp was long gone, replaced with a cocky yet down-to-earth jock for which you slowly had developed feelings. Regardless, you realized that untamed emotions like such would heavily risk your friendship, ultimately concluding that those feelings would bring neither of you any good.

“Hello? Earth to Y/N?” He was waving his hand in front of you, completely zoning out as you shook your head rapidly, coming back to your senses.

“Yeah, sorry. What’s your question again?”

He tutted while shaking his head before repeating himself.

“The bonfire. You coming?”

“I don’t know. Are we going together?”

“About that, Katrina asked me to go with her,” he sheepishly admitted, his palm rubbing the back of his head. A slight disappointment flooded over you which you immediately ignored and masked with a dramatic gasp.

“Katrina? The hot, unbelievably pretty Katrina?” you exclaimed in disbelief.

“Yup,” he stretched out the word, popping the ‘p’ at the end.

“God, what did she see in you? You’re just a jock whose personality only revolves around sports and porn. Plus, you’re an asshole,” you snarked, poking his shoulder jokingly emphasizing the last sentence.

“But you are friends with this asshole,” he pointed out, quoting your own words against you.

“No, we are simply acquaintances,” you corrected while gesturing your hand back and forth between you and him.

He let out an incredulous chuckle, rolling his eyes. “Okay then my fellow ‘acquaintance’, are you coming or not?”

Your eyes darted up diagonally, thoroughly weighing the pros and cons before you finally pouted, having the final verdict.

“Please? I need you to make sure my asshole self is not as asshole-y as usual,” he begged, giving you pleading looks with that Bambi eyes of his.

With one last grumble, you replied. “Fine, I’ll meet you there later.”

“Great!” He clasped his hands before leaning forward towards you, giving you a quick tight hug before jumping up on his feet.

“Happy doing business with you acquaintance!” He brought two of his fingers up to his temple and flicked them toward you in a playful manner earning a light laugh from you as you watched him walk away, his figure getting smaller and smaller from your view.

Following that conversation with Mitch, you couldn’t help but think about the bonfire for the rest of the day. A mix of exhilaration and anxiety coursed through you. It’s no news that you disliked being around a bunch of people and preferred being alone, but sometimes you couldn’t deny that you wanted to live the teenage dream. You wanted to have fun, surrounded by the found family you had long craved for, putting yourself out there and living your best life.

Your whole life you had chosen to stay in your comfort zone, your intrusive negative thoughts constantly conquering your actions. But after Mitch sort of invited you to the bonfire, you decided that it was the perfect opportunity to break out of your tiny shell.

Inevitable images of Mitch and Katrina being all lovey-dovey appeared for a second, your nature of being an overthinking pessimistic resurfacing. But just as it instantly popped up, you brushed it off right away, determined that it’s time for you to do what you have never been courageous enough to do.

Unlocking the keys to your house, you pushed the door open, a creaking sound due to the old hinge echoing throughout the room. It was awfully silent and eerie, no sign of your mom’s usual greetings as you felt an obnoxious feeling in your guts.

Something was definitely wrong.

“Mom? Are you home?” You called out to her, not getting any response. Upon only receiving dead silence, you closed the door behind you before moving through the halls of your home.

Your pace halted in front of the living room, chills coursing through your body. The sight of your mom, trembling and puzzled on the couch, being held at gunpoint by a total stranger, paralyzed you.

“Mom? What’s happening?” Your voice was shaky, terror washing over you as tears threatened to fall.

“Y/N, listen to me, do what he says, okay?” She tried to hide the fear in her voice but you could see right through her. You nodded hesitantly, showing your compliance to the unknown man.

“Sit beside her,” he instructed sternly as you slowly stepped towards the couch, sinking beside her.

“What do you want? I have money, you can take them! Just please don’t hurt us,” your mom pleaded even harder now that her daughter’s life was also in danger.

“Money? Really? You think this is a robbery?” he spat sarcastically.

“Please, then what do you want?�� Your mom repeating the question.

“I need you dead,” he blurted frankly as you felt your heart sank and tears finally fell off your cheeks. “Speaking of the devil.”

You heard the familiar creak of the door once again, indicating that your dad was home.

“Honey, I’m home early. How’s-“ He stopped in his tracks once the ongoing situation was in his view, the smile on his face immediately erased, replaced by vigilance.

“Who are you and why are you here?” He raised his arms in the air as he steadily approached the three of you.

“I have specific orders from my superior,” the man explained briefly.

“Please, stop! I’m begging you,” your dad cried out desperately as your eyes shift to your mom. Her eyes were hopeless and doleful but her lips turned up to a bittersweet smile as her fingers intertwined with yours.

“Honey, close your eyes,” she breathed out as you obliged, shutting your eyes tightly, her hands squeezing yours in reassurance one last time.

“Please, no-“

Boom.

You flinched at the loud bang of the gunshot. Her once warm hands heavily slipped off yours before you heard a thud followed by a muffled wail from your dad.

She’s gone. Your mom, the person who had raised you, who had baked you soft chocolate chip cookies when you had been feeling down, who had accompanied you when you had not been able to sleep, who had consulted you about your little problems including your crush on Mitch, she’s gone.

You didn’t dare to open your eyes. You just couldn’t. The image of her lifeless body would devastate you, shatter you even more than you already were as you let out a heart-wrenching cry.

“Don’t do this, please!” You heard your dad pleaded in the midst of his sobs. His voice led you to finally open your eyes, strictly fixing them on your dad, still unable to look at your mother beside you.

“Say goodbye to daddy,” the man spoke sinisterly as another stifled sob left your lips.

“Dad, I love you.” You shudderingly muttered your final words before closing your eyes, anticipating your upcoming doom.

Boom.

Nothing. You didn’t feel anything.

You let out the breath you had been holding as you opened your eyes to see the man groaning in pain on the floor next to the couch, a pool of blood slowly forming around the wound on his chest.

Your head shot up to your dad and a figure behind him who was holding a smoking gun which you assumed was one of his work colleagues.

Lastly, the moment you’d feared, your eyes landed on your mom, her limp body lying unconscious, a bullet wound on her forehead along with splatters of blood all over her lifeless face. The gory sight made you nauseous and sick to the stomach. You collapsed onto the ground beside her, bawling your eyes out, choking on the tears. Clutching your chest achingly, an insufferable pang struck you while you were trying your best to breathe but it was as if all the air in your lungs were sucked out.

The room started spinning, your vision blurring, unsure whether it was caused by the sudden aching in your head or the tears that have not stopped flowing.

You were forced to focus once you heard your dad calling out your name. He kneeled in front of your weary body, resting his palms on the sides of your head, caressing your messy hair to give you some kind of comfort.

“Sweetheart, listen to me carefully, we have to leave the state tonight. Go pack your things now, I have to go for a while to sort things out but I’ll come and pick you up right away. Just don’t go anywhere and wait for me here, okay?” he explained in a hurry to which you shook your head hazily, still in a shocked trance.

“I don’t want to stay here, dad. I can’t,” you whimpered, not wanting to stay here with the police, medics, and reporters, tending to their questions and pitying faces.

“Okay, it’s okay. Do you want to meet me at the airport instead?” He offered a less optimal option but you preferred to drive to the airport alone than to be suffocated by all these people as you nodded.

“Okay, stay safe sweetheart, I love you.” He placed a soft kiss on your forehead before turning to your mother, cupping her pale cheeks, a melancholic look on his face as he admired her for the last time. Shedding one last tear, he finally stood up and left the house with a few of his colleagues who appeared a while ago, including the one who shot the man earlier.

The absence of your dad amplified the hollowness you felt on your chest, the pain being even more unbearable as the brutal reality finally hit you one more time.

Your mom was really gone. She wouldn’t get to watch you graduate college, attend your grand wedding, be there by your side when you give birth to your first child, grow old with dad in the cottage near the lake as she had always dreamed of, she wouldn’t get to experience all that.

As you think about how you’re going to pull through this deep hole without her, you laced your fingers with hers, the once warm soothing feeling was replaced with an icy inanimate one.

“I love you, mom,” you whispered nonetheless, although you know she wouldn’t reply to you. Hesitantly, you retracted your hand and stood up, letting the medic and police surround her.

Stepping back, you watched them examine your mom briefly, covering her body with a white cloth. They meticulously carried her and laid her on a stretcher, before pushing her out of the room, your eyes never leaving them.

The next 20 minutes seem pretty muzzy as your feet dragged your spiritless body around the house, exhaustingly packing everything you needed, dumping things into a big duffel bag and a suitcase.

After tossing them into your car’s trunk, you hopped into the navy sedan and slammed the door shut, finally getting some quiet time to let your thoughts sink in.

Airport. You’re heading to the airport. You’re leaving the states. You’re leaving.

Oh gosh, Mitch. You’re leaving and you hadn’t told Mitch.

You had no idea how he ended up being on the top of your mind after all the hectic shit that had happened the past few hours but as if you’re on autopilot, you hit the pedals, heading towards the beach.

The summer night breeze was the opposite of the morning, cool and airy, as you paced towards the dim light enveloped by the crowd, faint overlapped conversations slowly becoming louder.

You saw a familiar figure from afar noticing your presence, simultaneously marching out of the chattering students to meet you.

“Hey, Y/N! You made it! I thought you’re not going to come-“ He paused once he noticed your puffy eyes and red nose painting a defeated look on your face, sensing that there was something wrong. “What happened? Are you okay?”

“Mitch, I’m leaving,” you muttered bluntly.

“Leaving? W-What do you mean?” he stuttered, a quizzical look on his face.

“I’m moving away,” you clarified shortly, his lips turning to a frown at the sudden disclosure of information.

“What? Why? Where are you going?” He peppered you with questions while you avoided his eyes.

“I can’t- I can’t say.”

“What do you mean you can’t tell me? You can’t just come up to me and drop huge news like this without giving me any explanations!” he frustratedly yelled as you shrunk in front of him, feeling guilty leaving him in the dark. But there’s nothing you can do, it was for your own and your dad’s safety.

“I’m sorry, Mitch. I have to go.” Observing your discouraged figure, he tried to suppress his outrage.

“No, Y/N, please. We can figure something out, okay?” He brought your fidgety hands up to his, cupping them. “Just please, stay with me.”

With that statement, you dared to gaze into his honey orbs, filled with anguish and disbelief, the only thing you could think about was how much you would miss him. Being lost in his eyes for what might be the last time, you eventually darted your eyes away once more, knowing that you wouldn’t be able to confidently leave him while staring deeply into his eyes.

“I can’t.” You immediately turned around to walk away but were stopped once he grabbed your wrist.

You could sense his anger arising from the tight grip as he snapped. “At least tell me what happened. I’m your best friend for fucks sake!”

You gave him one last apologetic look from your shoulders while tugging your wrist out of his grasp.

“I’m sorry. Goodbye, Mitch.”

And with that statement, you departed to your car, not giving him second glances, afraid you would change your mind simply from the heartbroken look on his face.

────── ˋ*✧₊∘

Friday, 2 July 2021

You watched trees swiftly swept past you as you looked up to the sky, imagining the weather outside of the constricted van you were currently in. The sky was blue and clear, not too bright due to the late afternoon sun as distinct fluffy clouds decorated it. You were appreciating the beauty of nature, having a change of scene from the urban area where you usually lived.

“Hugh Walker.” You heard your superior spoke as he handed you a file with ‘classified’ stamped on the front page. Instantly, you broke out of your little daydream, putting your full attention back on him.

“The nephew of the infamous billionaire, Owen Walker. He might not look dangerous but he’s about to purchase a stolen backdoor key code to the Department of Defense system and network.” You flipped the file open, observing the portrait of a white male, probably in his early 30s, a little repulsive but pretty fit nevertheless, while your superior proceeded to brief you.

“Let me guess, nuclear weapons?” You asked as you continued from the portrait to read the details about the man’s background.

“Most likely. The code was stolen by a group of underground hackers who goes by the alias CRYPTO. We know that they have done multiple deals in the black market and the dark internet but they leave no trace or records, going completely under the radar.”

“So what’s my assignment?” You closed the manila file, your eyes back onto your superior waiting for his specific instructions.

“You will be partnered up with another CIA agent. The two of you will need to scope on Walker for a few days. Watch every single move he makes, never leave your eyes off him,” he explained while you listened intently, jotting down a little mental to-do list.

“He will arrive in Istanbul tomorrow and on Sunday, he will have a meeting with one of CRYPTO’s personnel. Go undercover and retrieve the package safely.” He gave you his final order as the car halted in front of an old but well-maintained cottage located in a secluded area, surrounded only by greeneries, but not too far from the downtown, giving you both privacy and access which was favorable for your demanding job.

“Yes, Sir.” You affirmed before stepping out of the vehicle, bringing your duffel bag with you, heading towards the cottage.

Pushing the door open, a whiff of fresh pinewood immediately filled your senses. Faint sunlights seeped through the slightly translucent blinds, giving the whole room a warm yellowish hue. You stepped into the living room furnished with an old-fashioned interior, a tan leather couch in the middle of the room with a floral patterned rug under it. To your left were a small kitchen, a counter completed with appliances, and a dining area consisting of a wooden table with two chairs occupying the other segment of the cottage.

Passing the connected rooms, you steered towards a short hallway with only three doors, assuming that two of them are the bedrooms and one was the bathroom. Turning the door handle to one of those doors, you entered your desired destination, the bedroom. It wasn’t enormous, but it wasn’t too cramped either, the furniture having the same vintage theme as the rest of the cottage, making it pretty cozy.

You tossed your duffel bag filled with your belongings on your bed which was on the right side of the room while you gently rest the suitcase filled with important amenities on the table on the left. After taking notice of the time that was getting closer to dusk, you decided to freshen up while you waited for your partner to arrive.

Drying up your hair, you felt your stomach growling, signaling that it needed to be fed as you hovered to the kitchen to fix some dinner for yourself and your late partner.

You were in the middle of stirring your spaghetti into the bolognese sauce, the smell of tomato and thyme circulate the room when you heard the front door being unlocked. Being a CIA agent had taught you to assume the worse and be extra paranoid as you instinctively paused whatever it was you had been doing and grabbed a kitchen knife, cautiously moving to a blind spot in the room where you could observe the unknown intruder.

The moment you heard the footsteps right beside the wall where you’re hiding, you jump in front of the so-called ‘intruder’, pointing the knife in front of you in case he attacked you. But the man in front of you was not who you expected him to be. He flinched back before recognizing the face in front of him, as you did too.

“Y/N?” he called hesitantly.

“Mitch?” You did the same.

Your eyes stared deeply into his, going completely rigid, unable to process the current situation. He was no different than you were, standing frozen in front of you with an undecipherable look on his face.

For years, you had not met anyone from your past, the encounter automatically evoking a mixed feeling within you, feelings you had tried suppressing deeply.

“Is that really you?” he questioned doubtfully. You nodded faintly, jaw still hanging open.

“Can you please drop the knife then?” He requested blatantly, his eyebrows knitting as his mouth formed a thin line which brought you out of your trance, shaking your head rapidly.

“Yeah, sorry.” You leaned over to place the knife on top of the kitchen counter. “Why are you here?”

“I’m your partner.”

Yeah, Y/N, no shit. Why would you ask that?

You opened your mouth, about to ramble or say something dumb again, something you do when you’re nervous and caught off guard, but was interrupted by him.

“I should unpack,” he blurted emotionlessly before heading to his room, not even waiting for your response.

Despite being a little disappointed that he obviously wanted to be away from you, you’re also glad that he took the initiative to leave first since you could never do so. You knew you need some alone time to process this as much as he did, both of you being caught in a very sticky situation.

The last time you saw him was that night your mother had passed away, the two of you not having a proper goodbye. After that night, you had not tried to reach out to him, something you had been tempted to do but unable to for the sake of your safety. And 10 years later, out of some absurd fate, the two of you were here as partners, stuck in a mission together. What sick game was the universe playing on you?

Spiraling in your own thoughts, you almost did not realize Mitch getting out of his room and into the bathroom. Finally broken out of your bubble, you decided to continue cooking your pasta.

As you were placing the plates of spaghetti on the table along with the utensils, the bathroom door swings open, vague steam from the hot temperature of the water vaporized out of the room, as a refreshed Mitch stepped out. His hair was wet, droplets of water on the tip of his hair threatening to fall. He was wearing a black cotton t-shirt paired with grey sweatpants which hugged his figure perfectly, showing all the muscles he had grown even more from all the CIA training.

“I made you some pasta,” you declared while dragging your chair backward to sit down. He turned his head towards you, the same cryptic expression on his face but this time his eyebrows lifted as if he was surprised by your gesture.

Tentatively, he moved towards the dining table, settling down opposite of you, a faint smile on his lips.

“Thanks,” he mumbled almost inaudibly as you gave him a sincere smile in return.

A few minutes have passed while the two of you were eating in silence, only the sound of utensils ringing in the air.

What happened between the two of you? Leaving him on bad terms and going off the grid for years had evidently done a number on him, but the two of you were best friends, inseparable since the day you had roamed around the halls with him, telling him all he needed to know about his new school.

The two of you had gone from fooling around together, bursting into fits of laughter for the whole day to complete awkward silence, none of you brave enough to initiate anything, reluctant of the course of events that were bound to happen after.

But as time passed, you slowly grew irritated, frustrated at how unsettlingly quiet it was, heavy tension between the two of you, as you finally speak up, playing along with what the universe had to offer.

“You look different,” you pointed out.

He did look different. His hair which used to be short and shaggily gelled grew out into thick locks. You also noticed little stubbles growing around his jawline, a new look from his smooth clean-shaven face. But from all those features, what caught your attention the most was his eyes. The vibrant, youthful look that was once in his eyes was replaced with a sharp and distraught one, tainted with emotions you were not able to pinpoint.

Your statement broke him out of his mysterious bubble, he instantly stopped eating to look up at you from the plate of pasta.

“You too,” he replied, toneless.

Guess you had to try harder, Y/N.

“So, how did you get into the CIA?” You gave it another attempt, bracing yourself for another concise answer.

“They came and recruit me one day. You?” You’re a little taken aback by the question despite the brief answer, meaning that he indeed was interested in conversing with you.

“My dad. He worked for them and it just runs in the family I guess.” You shrugged before twirling your spaghetti with the fork once again, the thick air growing somewhat less tensed from the small exchange.

“You’ve always looked up to him,” he added which earned a nostalgic smile from you.

“How are things after, y’know, I left?” You started again, the question causing his expression to slightly drop.

Noticing this, you immediately apologized. “Sorry, it’s okay if you don’t want to talk.”

After a few seconds of tranquility, he finally spoke. “I proposed to Katrina.”

Your eyes opened wide, face lightening up from the good news, truly happy for your best friend, but you can’t deny the stinging pain you feel deep down, a part of you wishing that it was you instead.

“Congratulations! Are things going well? How is she now?” You bombarded him with questions, fishing him to chat more.

“Dead,” he deadpanned. That one single word changed the mood 180 degrees as you immediately felt guilty for being too gleeful before.

“Oh, Mitch, I’m so sorry.” You tried expressing your condolences, feeling sad for him but also yourself. You might have not known Katrina that well, but she was still your classmate.

“It’s okay. It happened years ago, I already moved on from it,” he brushed it off, sincerely at peace with it and not just doing it for the show.

The shift in mood led to another excruciating silence. You ran out of things to blabber about, afraid to pull the wrong string as you did a while ago.

“Y/N-“ He broke the silence but before you could be amazed or simply just react to it, he was interrupted by the ringing of your cell phone.

You abruptly stood up, the chairs screeching a little at the sudden friction as you recognized your superior’s caller ID and pressed the green button.

“Yes, sir?”

“Y/N, there’s a slight change on the details. Walker rescheduled his meeting to 9PM tomorrow at the Grand Hotel. Track him all day until the meeting, okay?”

You nodded anyways at the added information despite him not being able to see you through the call.

“Okay, you don’t have to worry about it,” you assured him before ending the call, Mitch narrowing his eyes on you, anticipating you to explain the call which you immediately did.

The rest of the night, the two of you were briefing each other, straightening up the facts, coming up with a solid plan to get the stolen codes. The two of you were actively communicating, stating your opinions unaffectedly, and shooting in some sarcastic remarks here and there comfortably like you both used to. It wasn’t exactly all sunshine and rainbows, but the icy and strained tension between you two was slowly melting away.

────── ˋ*✧₊∘

You woke up to the blinding light from the window that you forget to close with the curtains last night. Groaning, you rubbed your half-lidded eyes lazily, feeling fatigued due to all the missions and moving around. Tossing the blanket covering your body to the side, you got out of your bed, instinctively going to the bathroom to wash up.

Swinging the door open, you were crossing the corridors to the bathroom that was opposite your room when you heard a voice called.

“Morning,” Mitch chirped from the kitchen, almost sounding cheery.

“Morning, Mitch,” you hummed sleepily as you entered the bathroom before your brain finally processed the smell of smoked meat that was trickling your nose, your head swiftly peeking out of the bathroom to see Mitch in front of the stove, flipping strips of bacon.

“You’re cooking?” you questioned, suddenly feeling a little more awake.

“Surprised?”

“A little,” you confessed while he let out a raspy chuckled at your answer, your stomach fluttering slightly from the sound.

Looking way more decent from the shower, you approached him in the kitchen. He was finishing up once you arrived, plating the bacon along with a sunny-side egg and a toast.

“Now this is a breakfast,” you joked which received another low chuckle from him, something you’ve been dying to hear again since earlier this morning.

Without second thoughts, you instantaneously dug into the meal in front of you, feeling famished for some reason as you moan from the taste of the savory food in your mouth.

“So?” He rested his cheeks on his palm, his elbow propped on the table as he watched you amusingly.

“Mhmm, yeah that’s pretty good,” you mumbled, still chewing the food in your mouth, causing his lips to turn up into a small smile. It might not be a lot but the idea that you made him smile flickered an extinguished hope inside you, that things could actually be like how they were again.

────── ˋ*✧₊∘

“Are we really sitting here waiting until this jackass decided to show up?” He whined grumpily from boredom, leaning back into the chair while crossing his arms.

The two of you had been sitting in an outdoor café downtown across Walker’s hotel for roughly half an hour, waiting for him to make an appearance.

“I don’t enjoy it too, Rapp. But a mission’s still a mission.”

In contrast to him, you leaned forward, resting your elbow on the table and cupping your face with your palms, watching people pass by on the wide street. Children were running around the street, shop owners hollering in a foreign language, tourists taking photographs of the remarkable architecture, locals going by their accustomed lives, each of them having a story of their own.

From the corner of your eyes, you could see him shift forward too, mirroring your actions, arms resting on the table, head turning to the road.

“Don’t you think it’s surreal how everyone here is just having a leisure afternoon while we’re hunting bad guys down? Makes me wonder if I’ll ever have a normal life like them,” you trailed off, eyes darting from the crowd to him as you admired the little details on his face that you didn’t get the chance to notice yesterday.

A decade later and he still had that doe-eyed look whenever he was daydreaming. You then traced down his face, mentally connecting the constellation of moles scattered all over his cheeks.

He then turned his head back towards you, his caramel eyes finally meeting yours.

“Normal is just not in the dictionary for people like us,” he uttered in a bitter tone, desolate and bleak, but there’s nothing he could do about it. He chose this job, like you did, despite having already been aware of the consequences that came with it.

You could only hum in response, agreeing with his statement, feeling a little disheartened accepting the truth. But your attention soon was stolen by a figure you recognized from afar exiting the hotel lobby along with two other men as you shoved your sentimental emotions aside.

“Walker’s out. He’s got two men guarding him,” you informed, Mitch straightening up, becoming more alert as you both took off, trailing behind him cautiously, in order not to get caught.

As you followed him a block down, he finally reached his destination, entering the small but mellow bar, leaving his two bodyguards behind.

After waiting for a few minutes, you signaled to Mitch that you’re about to enter the bar as he nodded, comprehending that it was time for him to knock the two guys out.

You went inside alone, immediately spotting your target seated on the bar table with a metal briefcase, which you assumed contained the mount of cash for the deal. You strolled past him to sit on one of the stools, flipping your hair and crossing your leg sensually as to attract his attention.

“One mojito, please.” You smirked, noticing Walker was eyeing you.

“What’s a lovely lady doing here all alone?” He tried to flirt which honestly makes you want to throw your guts out but for the sake of the mission, you had to suck it up and play along with it.

“Oh, just drinking my sorrows away,” you sang rather whimsically.

He inched closer to you, his unpleasant breath fanning your ears which made you shiver out of disgust before he finally whispered. “I know some other ways to make you feel better.”

Gross.

“Oh, really?” You batted your lashes despite the building sickening feeling in your stomach.

Damn, you deserved an Oscar.

“What do you say we get out of here and I’ll show you a great time you’ll forget about all your problems?” He suggested cockily with his falsely boosted ego which made you rolled your eyes mentally.

“Sounds great,” you lied as you guided him out through the back of the bar, leading to a small alley where Mitch was standing by patiently.

“How about we go to my hotel, baby girl?” He slurred once you’re in the alley alone.

“Not so fast, dickhead,” you spat in a whole different tone before punching a painful blow on his face, Walker wailing painfully.

“What the fuck-“ He cursed but was cut short by Mitch who swiftly strangled him from behind, jabbing a needle to his neck to tranquilize him.

“That’s interesting,” Mitch commented once Walker’s body was lying unconscious on the floor, putting back the empty syringe in its container.

“Men,” You grunted, grabbing the metal case that was left unattended on the concrete. “Swing your ass once and they’re immediately hypnotized.”

Mitch let out a breathy laugh at your sarcastic remark before the two of you dragged Walker and his two bodyguards to the CIA-facilitated van parked at the end of the alley.

Arriving back at the cottage, you cuffed the still passed out figures in the back of the van, the tranquilizer probably lasting for a few more hours.

The two of you had a few hours before the arranged meeting, just enough to prep yourself, and by prep meaning dressing up for the occasion.

You separated from Mitch, heading inside your room to change. You slip on your long elegant black a-line slitted dress, putting on glam makeup before accessorizing yourself with jewelry to fit into the role even more. The plan was for Mitch to disguise as Hugh Walker and you as his personal assistant to execute the trade-off.

Spraying a few spritzes of perfume as a final touch, you exited your room, Mitch already waiting on the couch. The moment the tap of your heels echoed the room, Mitch apprehensively stood up, eyes fixated on you right away. He was overwhelmed by your newfound beauty, the dress and makeup enhancing your already undeniable glamour, as he froze on his feet, his lips parting a little.

To be honest, you weren’t in a much different state than he was either. Mitch was wearing a black-and-white tuxedo, radiating a somber and chic demeanor, unlike his usual go-to casual style. His long brown locks were brushed back and moderately gelled, styled neatly but still a little disheveled to his likings. He looked stunning, dangerously stunning, to the point where he could enchant you with his irresistible charms.

“You look beautiful,” he breathed out, still blown away.

“T-Thanks. You too,” you stammered before your eyes widened, realizing what you just said.

“I mean not beautiful but handsome and well kind of hot- What? No- I mean yes, but-“

You finally decided to just shut up, ending your embarrassing, self-tormenting rambles.

“Sorry,” you apologized bashfully as Mitch sniggered in return, lips turning to a cocky smug.

“Oh cut it, Rapp. I’m just nervous about the mission.” You gave him an excuse but you knew deep down that’s not exactly true.

“It’s okay, Y/N. I know I can be too attractive to resist sometimes.”

Yes, he was right.

“Shut up,” you huffed one last time before the two of you finally decided to depart to the Grand Hotel.

Pushing the glass doors open, you and Mitch both wandered into the extravagant hotel which definitely lived up to its name. The hotel’s architecture was listed with golden details, the floors sheathed with red carpets as a huge ornamental chandelier hung on the ceiling, instantly catching your eyes.

As much as you were wowed by the luxurious hotel, you still had to focus on your mission, searching for the hotel’s bar where you’re supposed to meet the sellers.

Approaching the corner of the bar, you could see a man in a crumpled gray suit, lousily sitting on the couch guarded by around 5 of bodyguards.

“Hugh Walker?” he asked, motioning to Mitch while smoking his cigarette.

“Yes, and you are?” Mitch replied.

“John Miller,” he answered. “I’m here as the representative. Do you have the cash?”

“Yes.” Mitch gestured you to hand the briefcase over to the man.

Clicking the locks open, he took a quick look at the dollar bills orderly stacked before signaling his bodyguards to test its authenticity.

After his men approved the notes to be real, he instructed them to place a smaller briefcase and opened it, revealing a minuscule chip placed in the middle of a styrofoam frame due to its fragility. According to the plan, the two of you proceed with the deal, swapping the cash with the chip, everything going very smoothly.

“Pleasure doing business with you.” Mitch stood up which is followed by Miller, giving him a firm handshake. “Give my regards to your Dad.”

“Will do,” Mitch gave him an acknowledged nod before turning over his heels to leave, you following behind him. However, Mitch’s little act of reassurance contrarily confirmed Miller’s suspicions.

“You do know that Anthony Walker is deceased right?” Miller sneered as both Mitch and you stop in your tracks, giving each other suggestive looks, knowing that your disguise was already given away.

On cue, you turned to your left as Mitch turned to the right, simultaneously blocking the blows from the bodyguards who are charging at you two.

You stroke one of the men’s head before kicking him away, him falling desperately to the ground. You then sensed a movement behind you, elbowing the man's face before agilely ducking at the anticipated blow. You grabbed and locked on his arm, using your body as the anchor to swing him over you as he stumbled on the floor. The man from previously retracted his gun while approaching you, but you rushed to him, swiftly kicking the gun out of his hand before giving him an uppercut punch followed by a painful hook to the side of his cheeks.

Just as you knocked out the last man you could account for at that moment, you turned to Mitch, but instead, you were met by a gun, pointing straight at you. You froze on your feet, the sight causing your mind to completely crash. You’d worked on the field for years, encountering dangerous situations as if it’s a day job, so why are you still taken aback at the mere sight of a pointed gun?

Seeing this, Mitch instantly dropped the briefcase he was holding to knock the gun out of the man’s grip. He then lunged him down to the floor while simultaneously grabbing the gun, shooting the man on his shoulders. Another man attempted to get ahold of the discarded briefcase, but he didn't go unnoticed as Mitch fire another shot at his thighs to disable him.

As the area was clear for a short while, Mitch took the slim opportunity to pick up the briefcase containing the chip before gripping on your wrist tightly, pulling you out of your trance as the two of you fled out of the club, the other two uninjured bodyguards chasing after you.

Gunshots were aimed after the two of you but were luckily missed as the bystanders in the hotel started to panic from the roaring crack. The wild crowd gave the two of you an advantage as you managed to lose them while heading to the parking lot. Slamming the door shut, Mitch immediately started the car while you checked the contents of the briefcase. Once you confirmed to Mitch that the chip was safely in the case, he stepped on the pedals right away, taking off from the scene of the tumultuous but regardlessly accomplished mission.

It’s pretty close to midnight by the time the two of you arrived back at the cottage. Since it had been a long day, both of you just wanted to immediately shower and rest, Mitch letting you go first out of courtesy, acknowledging how uncomfortable your heavy makeup and the tight-fitting dress were.

Getting out of the warm calming shower, Mitch went in after you, leaving the living room all to yourself, the tranquility allowing your thoughts to scream louder in your mind.

It’s the end of the mission. Most times you had always felt ecstatic whenever you had successfully completed your job, finally being able to sleep in your own apartment and truly relax.

But contrarily, this time you could feel all sorts of indescribable emotions piling up, unable to identify whether you’re actually dismal or glad that you would be parting ways. Of course, being finally reunited with your best friend after a decade brings out the youthful joy that was once in you. Even though it had taken a lot of perplexing moments, in the end, things finally seemed normal, almost like how they were before you left, making it even more difficult for you to leave him again. But every moment spent with him inevitably reminded you of your mother and that tragic night, not knowing how to make the throbbing pain stop.

To get your mind off that thought, you decided to pack all your belongings away now to save time in the morning. As you were zipping up the bags, the door to the bathroom flew open, Mitch stepping out with a towel dangling on his shoulders.

Looking at your tidily packed bags, a wave of realization flooded over him, his face dropping.

“So, what’s going to happen now?” You were genuinely confused with his question, unsure of what he’s implying.

“What are you saying?”

“Are we going to be strangers again?” He blurted out, catching you off guard with his straightforward doubt.

“I don’t know, Mitch.” That was all you could say. You truly didn’t know what to do. You knew you’re not capable of leaving him like you did back then but you’re not sure if you’re ready to let someone from that part of your life back.

“So, that’s it? You’re leaving me again?” He frowned, both frustration and disappointment evident on his face.

“Mitch, I-“

“Fine! Just leave! Leave, Y/N, like you always do!” You flinched at the sudden rise in his tone, tears threatening to fall. Not wanting him to witness your breakdown which occasionally happened when you’re under formidable stress, you stormed to your room, unintentionally slamming the door shut from the overwhelming emotions.

Aggravated, Mitch slammed his fist on the wall, instantly retracting it once he felt the numbing throb on his reddening skin. He’s outraged and confused as to why you wanted to leave him so badly.

He’s convinced that the universe found absolute pleasure in torturing him, always taking away the people dearest to him. First, his parents, then you, then Katrina. And when both of you met again out of fate, giving him a glimmer of hope that maybe something favorable might happen, you wanted to abandon him all over again.

Minutes passed and his anger still had not subsided, but another emotion emerged–concern. As he paced around the room, never-ending questions filled his head.

Did he yell too loud at you? Did he hurt you? Was he being a jerk to you?

You were all he could think about.

Sighing, he decided to leave all his tangled emotions behind and turn the doorknob to your room, quietly opening the door, revealing your figure all curled up into a ball, sobbing harshly on your bed. His face softens at the mere sight of you, immediately rushing to your side to embrace you.

“Oh, Y/N, I’m so sorry,” he whispered soothingly to your ears while he caressed the side of your arms. When you realized he had sat on the bed next to you, you lunge at him, arms wrapping around his torso despite the previous unresolved quarrel.

“It still hurts, Mitch.” That’s the only phrase you could manage to speak to him in between your cries.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean what I said, Y/N,” he apologized once again, astounding guilt overcoming him.

Even though his words did sting, it wasn’t the exact cause behind your meltdown.

“No, Mitch. It’s my mom. It still hurts.” Mentioning her verbally induced another striking ache right through your chest as you sobbed again, your body slowly growing weak.

Hearing the sudden disclosure of partial information, Mitch started to view things from a different perspective, realizing that there’s more to your past than what he was aware of and assumed it to be.

“Hey, you can talk to me alright?” He brushed the stray hairs covering your face while wiping away the tears staining your cheeks, encouraging you in a way that you didn’t feel coerced.

Sniffling, you took one deep breath, trying to form coherent words. “That night, the night I left, my mom, she was- she was killed.”

After all these years leaving him in the dark, you eventually open up to him, unsure of how he would react to it. But thankfully, you did not sense a single bit of anger in his expressions, instead, he gazed at you compassionately with a tinge of worry.

“I’m so sorry, Y/N.” His voice was tainted with sensitivity and tenderness, genuinely trying to be there for you.

“And seeing you, it’s like my past, the past she was a part of, was coming back to me y’know, and it hurts so much,” you continued bawling once again, your feelings jumbled out all over the place, slipping out of your control.

“It’s okay, Y/N,” he shushed you while squeezing your sides for reassurance, reminding you of what your mother had done during her last moment with you.

After a few minutes of him snuggling you into his chest and you crying onto his shirt, you eventually came to a halt, running out of energy.

“Thank you, Mitch. I’m sorry for leaving you,” you managed to croak.

“No, you had to. It wasn’t your fault.” He smiled comfortingly.

“But you have to move on, Y/N. It could take a while or it could take years which is totally okay, but you can’t dwell on her like this forever. At your own pace, you have to eventually let her go.”

You knew every single thing that he said was right, but you’re not sure if you could ever have the heart to do it, to move on. You felt like by doing so, you’re betraying your mother and her memory.

“I can’t,” you shook your head and avoid his eyes which led him to cup your cheeks and lift your head.

“It’s okay, Y/N, one step at a time,” he muttered to which you replied with an okay.

Then silence grew between the two you once again as you nuzzled into the crook of his neck, but this time it wasn’t stiff or tensed, it was comforting and mellow. But knowing you would probably spiral back into your train of negative thoughts, he decided to shift your focus elsewhere.

“You know, that night, I wanted to ditch Katrina and went out with you instead but I was such a coward.” He giggled to himself at the recollection of the memory.

“And when you left, I was so angry, but mostly at myself, at how stupid I am for taking you for granted all this time,” he confessed as you looked up to him adoringly.

His confession drew the adrenaline out of your body as you leaned into his face, your palms reaching the back of his head. Closing your eyes shut, your lips pressed onto his. At the unexpected contact, Mitch immediately melted into the kiss, his lips moving fluidly with yours as his arms snake to your back to bring you even closer to him. Your fingers tugged onto his soft locks while you tilted your head to the side, giving him the access to deepen the kiss as he did so.

You finally broke the kiss, both of you gasping for air.

“What is that supposed to mean?” he beamed but ambivalent feelings still remained within him.

“It means that I’m staying, Mitch. I’m not going anywhere,” you declared with confidence.

Hearing your affirmation, Mitch pulls you back into another chaste kiss, not as intense as before but still full of passion.

Pulling away, you cuddled into his chest. He had always felt like home, the safe and cozy feeling causing yourself to yawn and slowly slip out of consciousness, eyes fluttering shut.

Before you fully gave in to your body and fall deeply asleep, you felt him press another endearing kiss onto your forehead while muttering something vaguely, causing your lips to turn into a faint smile.

“And I’ll never let you go again, Y/N, because I love you.”

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