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starsandsoulmates · 3 years

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Bedwars God

Dream x Reader

Request - So this is a dream x reader in real life the reader is a Minecraft youtuber, so I want their personality based off of LDshadowlady, basically like a soft girl, very friendly that can build cute stuff but know hot to pvp etc etc. And dream is like the biggest simp every. Anyways hope you have a good day bai bai

Summary - You are a twitch streamer and Dream donates to you asking for a 1v1.

Word Count - 1.6k

A/N - I’m a little bit rusty with my writing skills but I hope that you guys enjoy this! Keep the requests coming in so I can keep working on my characterizations!

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When the Twitter notification had popped up, you honestly hadn’t been expecting it. You stared for a few moments at it before it fully registered. Dream, the Dream, had just followed you on Twitter, the manhunt, Dream smp, Dream. After a brief moment of intense freaking out, you decided to draft a tweet, and a few failed attempts later you finally sent the tweet.

@yourtwitterhandle

Dream followed me so I’m basically in the big leagues now. I’ll remember all of you once I’m famous. 😎

You smiled a little and scrolled through the replies of your fans freaking out about this news. They honestly were almost as excited as you were about this new development.

Dream had been a huge inspiration to you when you had started streaming only a few months ago. Seeing the success he was able to achieve just by having fun with his friends was enough to push you into finally pressing the start stream button on Twitch. Of course, it had been a rocky start but now you had gained a following and were averaging about 10,000 viewers per stream. Your streams consisted of anything from Bedwars to building on your Minecraft world that you started the day you started streaming.

After a bit more time of scrolling through the replies on your tweet, you decided to finally get up and start to set up your stream for the day. You sent a quick tweet about streaming in 20 minutes and started to get ready. You checked all of your devices to make sure that they were running properly before turning on the stream starting soon screen. The chat exploded to life when the stream went online. It was filled with hellos and disbelief about the Dream follow. You giggled a little as you read through the chat before unmuting your mic for a moment.

“Hey guys just finishing up setting some things and I will be on. I’m going to drop a poll in chat on what you guys wanna see today,” You said happily as you booted up Minecraft.

You muted the mic again and started the poll before turning back to opening up Minecraft. You glanced at the poll and saw that Bedwars was winning by quite a bit so you decided to just log into Hypixel now. Once you were in the Hypixel lobby and you had nicked yourself, you finally let the stream see your screen. You turned on the camera and unmuted your mic.

“Hello, guys! How are you guys doing today,” You paused for a few moments to let your eyes roam over the chat, “I’m doing good, thank you so much for asking!”

“Okay let me do the donos I missed when I was setting up…” You read out all the donos you had missed and the gifted subs as well thanking your viewers and finally, you joined the Bedwars lobby.

“Okay so I think we are going to start off with some Bedwars today and then we can decide what to do after. How long am I going to stream?” you read from the chat, “I’m not exactly sure yet at least an hour or so we’ll see how long I can go before I get tired.”

You started to play Bedwars and got a mixed bag of good clutches and the inevitable failing at speed bridging. The stream was going perfectly with your viewers interacting with you and you having fun as well. At least until the dono came in that made you walk off the bridge you were in the middle of constructing to Blue’s base.

The monotone voice readout, “Hey, love your content we should definitely 1v1 sometime.”

The dono wasn’t particularly unusual but the fact that it was $100 and from dreamwastaken was the part that made you fall off the bridge.

“DREAM! You didn’t have to donate that much,” You paused to collect yourself and reorientate in the Bedwars game. “I would love to 1v1 you some time, I mean I think I’m pretty good at pvp but I don’t think that I’m that good at pvp.”

The chat was going absolutely insane at the dono and they were also calling the both of you simps. Dream for even donating in the first place and you for falling off the bridge when he donated.

You laughed softly at the chat, “Chat shush I am not a simp, it just caught me off guard that’s all.”

The stream from there on out was relatively normal with a few more Bedwars victories in the bag. After almost two hours of streaming, you decided to wrap up the stream.

“Okay, guys I think I need to head out and get some work done. I love you guys all so much and thank you for being here today. And an extra thank you for anyone who donated, subbed, or gifted subs. Remember to follow my Twitter it's the exact same as my twitch name. I usually announce when I’m going to stream on there as well as any other updates. Thank you guys so much and I will see you next time,” You said with a huge smile covering your face as you ended the stream after sending all of your viewers over to Tubbo who had started streaming towards the end of your stream.

Once you turned everything off and pulled up the latest video you had been editing, the notification ding distracted you away from your computer. For the second time in the day, you stared in disbelief at a Twitter notification.

Dream - Hey, I would really like to 1v1 you some time. I have been watching your content for a while now and I am a huge fan of what you make. Let me know when you want to do the 1v1. We can do it for a stream or a video. It's you to you :)

You - It means so much to me that you have been liking my content, I am a huge fan of yours as well. I am honestly free pretty much whenever. I need to make a new video so if you want to record a couple of rounds of pvp and maybe some bedwars with me then I can upload it to my channel.

Dream - Yeah that sounds good, I am actually free right now if you wanna hop on Hypixel and record now?

You - Yeah that sounds good I just sent you a discord friend request.

Your hands were practically shaking as you booted Minecraft back up. Dream was going to make a video with you. You were going to play with Dream. Your anxiety was only heightened when Dream accepted your friend request and added you into a VC. You took a slow breath and clicked on the VC and joined.

“H-hello,” You stuttered out softly as you tried to calm your nerves.

“Hey! Sorry if this seems out of the blue I really have been a fan for a while and I thought a 1v1 challenge would be fun,” Dream said and you could practically hear the smile in his voice.

“It’s fine, I just didn’t expect it. Like I said, I’m a huge fan so I’m just a bit shocked,” You chuckled a little feeling your nerves relax, “I’m on Hypixel now if you wanna get on, I say we do some 1v1s first.”

“Sounds good, are you recording now?” Dream asked as you glanced down at your recording software.

“Yep, but don’t worry I’ll send you the video before I post it so you can make sure you don’t mind any clips that I add,” you said as his character in the game ran towards you.

“You ready?” Dream asked with a smirk in his voice.

“Don’t get cocky yet green man, you’re going down,” You quipped back.

You and Dream 1v1ed a total of 11 times with Dream winning 6 and you winning the other 5.

“I told you not to be too cocky,” you giggled as he yelled about how you had managed to beat him 5 whole times.

“No! I only challenged you because I thought I would destroy you,” He said jokingly with a loud laugh accompanying the statement.

You laughed as well before rolling your eyes, “I told you not to get too cocky Dream, now let’s play some bedwars because I am going to destroy you.”

Dream scoffed a little and joined the party you had created. The beginning had been a little awkward but now the two of you were slowly falling into a rhythm. You started to feel more and more comfortable with the man and the teasing had only been heightened. The taunts during the bedwars game had both of you in stitches with Dream’s iconic kettle laugh only making you laugh that much harder.

“Oh sorry did my beauty distract you?” You laughed as you watched Dream fall off of his bridge.

“Oh shut up,” Dream countered weakly which only served to make you laugh that much harder.

The two of you ended up playing 4 rounds of Bedwars with Dream winning only a single round. He had raged for a few minutes after you had finished up the final round.

“Sorry Dream but Bedwars is my territory. You should have known better than to play with me,” You said with a huge smile.

“Oh come on, you were definitely using hacks. That was like a 1 in 7.5 trillion chance,” Dream said which sent you and consequently him into a fit of laughter.

“You’re so stupid,” You said with a smile before turning off the recording software. “Thank you for playing with me today, it’s always good to help people practice their bedwars skills.”

“You’re so annoying,” Dream whined before chuckling softly. “But yeah I had a really good time today, we definitely need to do this again.”

#dream minecraft #dream smp #dreamwastaken #dream x reader #dreamwastaken x reader #sapnap x reader #georgenotfound x reader #georgenotfound #sapnap #mcyt #mcyt x reader #wilbur soot x reader #wilbur soot #wilbur #wilbur x reader #karl jacobs #karl jacobs x reader #quackity #quackity x reader

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alienaiver · 3 years

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Half the Battle, pt. 1

Kuroo Tetsurou x gn!reader

find part two here!

warnings: slight angst about childhood/parents fighting/divorce, one (1) bottle of wine is opened, someone is betrayed in Mario Party, NOT beta-read! apologize for any mistakes! (lmk if there’s any warnings i missed!)

wordcount: 5.5k

content: soulmate AU, mild angst, fluff, post-timeskip but slight canon divergence (i haven’t read the manga yet so this is loosely based off of their canon timeskip lives), gender neutral reader, reader is a video editor, reader is bad at eye contact but the details as to why are vague/up for interpretation!

notes: this was made for @gg9183 ‘s wonderful birthday event, a soulmate collab! (go read the other wonderful works!) happy birthday once again, gray!! this was meant to be a 2k one shot but.... plans and inspiration changes sometimes, right? 🥺 so this ended up as a 5k part ONE lmfao i hope thats alright w u!!! part2 will be up asap, i promise!! i hope you enjoy this!!!!

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Not meeting his soulmate was fine, Kuroo often found himself thinking. The odds of finding your soulmate’s way too low to be realistic anyways, he supported the thought. It’s illogical to spend so much time fretting about it, he finally added for good measure.

Soulmates were a natural part of life, always had been. But with the big wide world filled with over seven billion people, meeting yours wasn’t completely unheard of. But given the powers of soulmates even existing, it wasn’t unrealistic to also believe that some kind of fate would pull you towards each other throughout your lives so that you would meet each other. Kuroo however, prided himself in not caring about soulmates. His life was rich enough. People explaining their feelings about “something being missing until they finally meet them” was incomprehensible to him.

Kuroo had lived for 29 years without being able to see color. And you know what? His life was damn well fulfilling enough. He had a beautiful apartment, an economy that flourished, an adorable cat named Cucumber and good people around him. What would he really need a soulmate for? He could ignore his friends comments on how wonderful the world was in color, if only he would just start looking for his soulmate, how much meaning it gave life. Just because the people in his closest circle had all magically met theirs – not to mention how many of them had already met in Goddamn high school, Kuroo scoffed and was always able to move on.

Even though a lot of people actively made eye contact with everyone they met, even people on the street, to make sure they would meet their soulmate, Kuroo kept his eyes down. He wasn’t insecure, come on, he was perfectly happy! He just didn’t need to be late for a meeting because he got eye contact with some stranger, you know?

His life was in perfect balance as is.. Until yesterday, of course. It had turned out there was mold in his apartment complex so they had to evict it for a month while a crew would go through everything to remove it. He didn’t want to go to his mother’s place, that was too far from his work, but he wasn’t in the mood for a hotel, that was way too expensive, so he turned to his best friend of many years with the biggest set of puppy eyes he could muster and the prospect of making every dinner while he lived there.

“Fine… but don’t get in the way,” was all Kenma had to say.

And so Kuroo spent his last weekend in his own apartment packing things down to make it accessible to the cleaning crew. Cucumber hated other cats with a passion so he couldn’t bring him to Kenma’s, where three cats already happily lived, so his mother would pick him up tomorrow afternoon.

He sat on his couch, scrolling his phone mindlessly with Cucumber on his lap who had been stressed with all the packing down, sensing something was up. He was being extra cuddly towards Kuroo who, honestly? Didn’t mind at all. He loved when Cucumber was in mood for cuddles, though it wasn’t very often. He had been told his cat was orange and while he didn’t have a measure for what that color actually looked like, he was happy with his gray cat.

His mother was supposed to arrive any minute now, so he should have gotten up and put the cat in his carrier but it was easier to get him in it if you had two pair of hands. He scrolled through Instagram, reaching a photo put up by Tsukishima of his soulmate, the light-haired manager of their high school volleyball club, with a tooth-eating grin on her face and proudly showing off a ring on her finger, the caption said, This smile makes me wanna brag. Kuroo could physically hear the provocative tone of his voice, knowing he was one of the first in his circle of friends to actually plan a wedding. Kuroo clicked his tongue with a smile on his face and double-tapped to like the picture.

He didn’t know if it was the combination of that post and the fact that his mother was on her way but memories of his parent’s wedding flooded his mind. For a lot of people, weddings felt obsolete in the face of the whole “you already got your soulmate and you know this” thing, so a lot of couples were happy not getting married but just being together. But there was also the benefits of marriage in the practical sense, so some people did anyways, some hosting parties, some not. His parents weren’t married when he came to, but after he turned five they decided to do it so he would be protected by both of them, in case of any emergency.

It had been a small wedding, only the closest family and friends but Kuroo was vivid, so excited about being part of that whole romantic ordeal, even helping his mom find a dress and everything. He had been a huge and important part of the wedding – if he did say so himself. Everyone had been glowing at the day, the food was delicious, there was laughter, song and cheers and everyone had brought so many presents – even some for little Tetsurou, who had been very excited about his new train tracks.

But when Kuroo was seven years old, it wasn’t as romantic anymore. His parents were fighting a lot, he wasn’t entirely sure why or about what because they would never tell him about it, no matter how much he asked. When he tried to listen in, the words he heard didn’t explain anything to him because even though they were yelling at each other, the important words were always whispered, as if they knew Kuroo was listening in.

When he was eight his mom had come into his room, hugged him and with tears in her eyes and said that they were going to move away.

“Where are we going?” he asked simply, no emotion to be read on his little face. He was exhausted from his parents being this way – they were soulmates, right? Why did they fight like that?

“To Tokyo, just you and me, my love.”

That’s when he met Kenma. He had been very closed-off and shy back when they met, he reminisced. He had been a regular kid when he was younger but the way his parents split up – his soulmate parents – had closed him off pretty bad, so it was a miracle he met Kenma and started opening up again.

Kuroo smiled to himself bitterly before scratching Cucumber’s ear. He supposed this was also why he wasn’t interested in his soulmate. So many people had romanticized the whole soulmate ideal so a lot of people forgot that relationships still took work, took effort and just because they were made for each other, didn’t necessarily guarantee that they would stay together. His mom and dad didn’t officially talk anymore, but when he asked his mom as a child whether or not she still saw color, she said that she did. He also found long letters in her bedroom when he was nine, letters from his dad, so he supposed they still talked together, though Kuroo wasn’t let in on it – nor was he particularly interested. And he definitely we wasn’t interested in ending up in a relationship with someone who would end up not wanting to put in the effort for the relationship to flourish.

After Cucumber had been picked up by his mom it was time to leave for Kenma’s place. He carried the last boxes of valuables down to his basement and locked them in before trekking down to the subway with his suitcase and sports bag.

_____

You were late for work, so you scrambled to pack your things. It was Wednesday afternoon and you were supposed to meet in at 3PM, because that was around the time that Kodzuken had planned to finish his recording, he told you yesterday. You were a video editor and had met Kenma through your old part-time job in his favorite convenience store quite a few years back, back when he had first bought his house when he was 24. You remembered talking to him about video games in the store since you also played some, and after a good while of polite customer service and talk about new games, you had started hanging out outside of work as well. When you had then told him you were actually a freelance video editor but just didn’t get many jobs, he had almost instantly hired you to do his YouTube videos for him and general editing and set-ups of his streams. I know video games, not recording equipment, he had told you so many years ago.

Your original thought had been wary, because working for a friend might get messy but Kenma cared a lot about keeping it professional when you were on the clock, which you appreciated very much. In his house, down by his game room, there was a room next door with screens and all the best editing software just for you to play with. Your pay was higher than average for such a “simple” but regular gig but when prompted about it, he simply shrugged and told you it wasn’t up for negotiation and no one was being treated unfair – and who were you to go against such a good pay for a job that you loved doing and wanted to do full-time? With Kenma being a famous streamer and gamer, he often made lots of different videos for various sites so your job hours resembled a nine to five job, easy, even if the hours were off from the more conventional jobs and you usually came in later in the day and sometimes finished off late in the evening – some of his videos had a time limit for a release date of a game, so there was also days where you were extremely busy and scrambling to get the video done right for a release of a game.

As you closed your bag and ran out the door towards the subway, you checked your phone for any updates. If he’d finished early, he would’ve texted you about it, so you put your phone in your pocket and hurried towards his house.

When you arrived you immediately rang the doorbell before catching your breath, you were used to Kenma spending a few minutes before reaching the door and opening it, so when the door opened almost instantly you took a step back before looking up. The one opening the door was taller than Kenma and in a loose dress shirt that was unbuttoned at the top - that’s all you saw before your eyes darted down to your feet.

“...Hi! I’m uh… Where’s Kenma?” was all you got out while fidgeting with your purse strap, it certainly wasn’t his boyfriend Hinata opening the door today.

“Oh, hey! You must be his video editor, right? He told me about you!” The man said, pointing to himself with his thumb,

“I’m Kuroo Tetsurou! Kenma’s childhood friend! Sorry to intrude, I’ll be living here for the next month, I promise not to get in your way!” As he finished his introduction, he moved aside so that you could enter. As you took off your shoes you heard Kenma’s feet shuffling towards you, “oh hey, welcome, you’re early,” Kenma said with his usual deadpan expression but you could clearly hear the teasing in his voice.

“At least I’m here now, right?” You smiled back, instantly relaxing at the sight of your boss and friend. You turned to Kuroo again, bowed and introduced yourself before taking off your coat and putting it on a hanger, while Kenma and the guy named Kuroo seemed to bicker a bit about whether or not Kuroo should answer the door while he lived there.

“I’ll go set it up, have you transferred the video files to the hard disk?” you asked Kenma as you moved towards ‘your’ office, sending Kuroo a polite smile while keeping your eyes on his neck.

Eye contact was hard for you, it always made you extremely uncomfortable and you didn’t really have any before you felt comfortable with the person. Your mother had often scolded you, saying you’d never find your soulmate at this rate, which you always acknowledged with a hum or a simple yes without starting a discussion.

You honestly weren’t sure whether or not you cared for a soulmate. Your biggest argument to wanting to find one was so that you could see colors, because it’d help your career. Kenma already had his soulmate, so he was the one deciding the color scheme for his videos and helped with the color-related editing, which worked fine as of now, but you would probably appreciate to be able to do it yourself. You had also spent some years coming to terms with your struggles with eye contact and accept that this was just how you functioned. If you missed your soulmate in a random supermarket thanks to it one day, well, you’d be none the wiser, so you felt sure you’d survive without one, but you also couldn’t deny that the sound of a soulmate sounded really nice and comforting. That someone out there existed to fit you, that you were born to love someone who was also meant to love you. You were sure that finding your soulmate wasn’t a dance on roses, it was sure to still be hard, frustrating and maybe even painful sometimes, but you also couldn’t just have all the good, there was a balance that was sure to exist within soulmates as well.

After hours of going through the raw footage from his video game play and slowly editing while watching it, you popped your shoulders and stretched your arms for a moment, yawning as you did so. Your hours were always a bit intense, but that couldn’t be helped when you had six hours of raw footage to work with. Looking at the clock you saw that it was 5.30PM which meant that soon Kenma would wake up from his pseudo-sleep (which was more like a nap in your opinion) to look at your process and ask what you wanted for dinner.

Soon after a soft knock was heard followed by the door opening slowly, Kenma standing in sweats and a hoodie with bags under his eyes, “do you like hotpot?” he asked, and you smiled at him, “sure, are you cooking tonight?” he yawned while he shook his head, “Kuroo is. He insists on a ‘fulfilling meal’, whatever that means.”

You giggled before beckoning Kenma in to see some of what you’ve done so far and making minor adjustments along the way. “Now, something smells delicious and I’m thirsty,” you stated after the two of you had talked a bit about the rest of the video’s plans. As you went towards the kitchen you could hear the sound of of a nameless tune being hummed, pans sizzling from something being cooked and kitchen utensils being used.

Inside, the table was already set with plates and prepared ingredients lying ready for the pot that Kuroo was just about to put on the table. It seemed he had made an endless supply of different side dishes and really put in a lot of work for it, so you looked really forward to eating it and it smelled delicious. You grabbed a glass from the set table and went to the sink to get some water and just as your hand reached it, Kuroo had extended his hand as well to the sink and you accidentally touched.

You both recoiled as if you had been burned and you couldn’t stop the gasp that accidentally left your lips. A feeling was rushing through your body you hadn’t experienced before and you immediately apologized to Kuroo and went back to the table, foregoing the water. You didn’t notice how Kuroo was frozen in place from when he touched you before Kenma called out to him and he immediately started moving again.

You ended up eating shortly after, Kuroo serving the food and talking animatedly about him and Kenma’s childhood, making you laugh quite a bit at their (or more, Kuroo’s) antics and their volleyball days. Kuroo was the type of person to make you relax in his presence and have fun which you didn’t even notice until you got home later that evening and really thought about what a great time you had had. You found yourself surprised by how easily you clicked with Kuroo, a total stranger. It must be his charm, you thought to yourself before going through your night routine. You had to come back tomorrow and finish work, after all. You estimated the video would take you a few more days to finish but that would end up fitting well with the weekend coming, so as you went to bed you felt yourself more relaxed than you had in a while.

_____

“What are they like?”

It was Friday and it seemed you had finished Kenma’s video and therefor you weren’t here for dinner – for the first time in a few days, which did let down Kuroo just a tiny bit. He had talked a lot with you during dinner preparations when you came out from the office and during dinner as well and while you did answer all his questions (which, he admitted, there were quite a few of them) and follow up with your own for him, it still felt… off… talking to you – and Kuroo didn’t like not knowing why. “What do you mean?” Kenma asked, taking another bite into his mouth.

Kenma swallowed a piece of meat before looking up at Kuroo who was stabbing his plate with his fork in what seemed like a useless purpose. He knew he was being a little weird but meeting you was weird, even though he had no reason to explain why.

“I mean, is this how they usually act?” He didn’t even know what that question meant or why he was even asking it, nothing made sense! But he had a desperate feeling that he needed to get to know you – he was afraid of what that implied and what suspicions he needed to hold onto, but he was sure it was his gut telling him you were dangerous for Kenma to be around – that had to be it! Kenma was his best friend, his childhood friend, it had to be a gut feeling meant to protect him!

“Who knows, they’re being more polite than usual, I think. But that makes sense,” Kenma replied calmly before adding, “I mean you are a stranger who’s really intent on being social with them over our dinners, they were a bit shy as well when I met them,”

Kuroo nodded and finally took a bite of his own food. He didn’t notice Kenma’s raised eyebrows or the questioning look that was sent his way, so Kenma decided to let the subject rest.

Not seeing you today felt weird to him too and he couldn’t help the irritation building up inside him – you had just met a few days ago and only in the evenings when he was done with work and ready to make dinner – and yet, the thought of you kept invading his mind. He had gotten through work today thinking you were going to be there for dinner so when he came home and found out you wouldn’t be there, the first seed of irritation had been planted – why was he suddenly looking so much forward to seeing you? Had it been like this yesterday too? Why was it suddenly important that you weren’t there? He ended up sitting in front of the laptop in the guest room for the rest of the evening, the document left open and completely untouched.

Kuroo, however, didn’t let the subject rest in his head for the rest of that evening. Hinata was in town, having time off after a big game yesterday so Kuroo was left to his own devices – which really wasn’t a problem considering he had to make the paperwork for a promotional deal for a meeting Monday morning that he had procrastinated making – which wasn’t like him at all, he usually never pushed assignments to last minute and he then realized the reason he wasn’t done yet was because he had spent so much time over the dinner table with Kenma and you, talking even after dinner had been done for a while. You always offered to help him with the clean-up so you also spent some time talking there, drifting off to various subjects far passing the cleaning duties and sitting down again with a glass of water.

He enjoyed your company, it felt... easy, somehow, the sensation that something was off was there but it didn’t really settle in his stomach until every time after you left, as if it was left to grow a bit from a small sensation to a problem, which worried him – Kuroo prided himself as an impeccable people-reader, he was captain for both the volleyball team in high school and college, he knew how to act around business relations so well because he could read them so flawlessly – so the feelings he got from you was unsettling and unreadable and it took some control away from him – and Kuroo always felt uneasy when he wasn’t in control.

____

Kuroo heard your name and almost got whiplash from how fast his head moved towards Kenma, “what?”

“I asked if we should invite them? To game night? Being three is a little annoying in Mario Party.”

“Oooh, that’s a good idea! I’d love to see them again!” Hinata happily exclaimed before taking another bite of the lasagna Kuroo had prepared tonight. It was Saturday and Kuroo had been in a daze the entire day, first at the office for a quick meeting with his boss about a potential partner he might be able to reel in soon and then doing his laundry at Kenma’s and continuing to try and make the stupid paperwork but ultimately failing before he had to make dinner.

“Isn’t it a bit late to invite someone? I mean, they could have plans already...” Kuroo tried, knowing what a pain it could be to be asked to something an hour before it happened and he didn’t want to let you go through that – that’s what he tried to tell himself, at least. In truth? He was a bit afraid of seeing you again, afraid of his potential reactions, since he had spent his entire Friday in a stupor just thinking about you. His thoughts didn’t mean much for Kenma and Hinata though, who was already texting you to ask. “Oi, no phones at the table, have you parents taught you no manners?” Kuroo chided and Hinata immediately shrank back and apologized – Kuroo smirked, yea the Chibi-chan still had respect for his seniors. But he was quickly pulled back to thoughts about you by Kenma’s phone lighting up again, “they’ll be here in an hour. They’re asking if they should bring anything?” Kenma looked up to gauge Kuroo’s reaction, having noticed something about his friend had been off the past few days. He immediately made a funny grimace before turning it into a smile. “Yea, they can bring a bottle of white wine, if I have to beat you all at Mario Party, I would very much like to be a tiny bit buzzed,” Kuroo said, and Hinata looked at him with wide eyes, “you drink wine!? So grown up!” Hinata exclaimed, to which Kenma just muttered, “or just an old man…” Kuroo didn’t hear that though, too busy to fidget with his hands under the table, suddenly feeling nervous that you were showing up.

Hinata plopped down between Kuroo and you with a controller in hand, “I’m gonna beat you all in this Mario Kart!” to which you laughed loudly, “good luck since we’re playing Mario Party.”

“Huh? Is there a difference?” Hinata asked, making Kuroo belt out a loud laugh as well, holding his stomach, “you just told us you’d beat us but you don’t even know what we’re playing!” Kuroo couldn’t contain his laughter for a bit until he noticed how you were looking at him and instantly retracted his laugh, sitting up straight with a cough, and apologizing for being loud, which confused him to no end. He had never been self-conscious of his own laugh! He knew it could be obnoxious and loud, but he also liked it himself, and-

“That’s a really cute laugh.”

The comment earned you the stares of the century from the three other people in the room, with Kenma in genuine shock – he wouldn’t say he disliked Kuroo’s laugh, just that it was… special.

“Uhm… Uh. Thank you?” Kuroo could feel that his blush went all the way to his ears but he hoped that the light in the living room wasn’t bright enough to catch it. “Yeah uh! Sure! Mhm,” you awkwardly coughed a bit as well before reaching for your glass of wine.

You had brought a bottle of white wine for Kuroo on the promise that you’d get a glass too, saying he was your first friend who also liked wine. The word ‘friend’ had dumb-founded him and he’d just answered “you can have it all,” to which you had laughed and said it’s fine with half, you weirdo.

The game was about to begin but Kuroo was still sitting stuck on the fact that his laugh was cute – cute? Had anyone else found it cute before besides Bokuto and his mom? He wasn’t sure – he sure couldn’t pinpoint them right now anyways. He tried to shake it off and focus on the game, though quite a bit of time was spent explaining the rules to Hinata who apparently had thought they were just playing Mario Kart.

When you were 12 laps into it, it seemed that you were set to win with your four stars and 121 coins. Kenma was right behind you with three stars and Hinata and Kuroo had been left in the dust with zero stars. You had stolen Kuroo’s first (and only) star early in the game, so he was plotting his vengeance in quiet but was getting afraid that the game would end before he could do anything to you – but just as his hopes were at the smallest during the last round of the game, you were put in the same team as him in the last mini game.

Kuroo had a wide smirk when you cheered and said, “this’ll be easy then!” because no, it would not be easy for you. If he had to go down in order to take you down a notch, then so be it. He’d rather Kenma win than you did with stolen goods!

The last mini game was “Tow the Line” where two players were put in a sewing box shaped with nine dots as a grid and two players tied together with a string and the objective was to make the shape with the string as shown in the middle of screen. As soon as the whistle sounded, Kuroo lowered his hands and stopped using his controllers, all with a big grin on his lips.

“Kuroo, what the fuck! Get moving, we’ve started!” you yelled at him as Kenma and Hinata won the first round, signaling the next round began, Kuroo started whistling and looking away from the screen, to which you got up from your seat, “fine, I’ll just take your controller and do it myself!”

Kuroo put his arm with the controller behind him, “nah-ah-ah! You’re not winning this, fiend! That’s what you get for stealing my star!” He grinned up at you with his eyes closed as you stood with your hands on your hips, “come on man! I stole that star in the fourth round! Kenma stole a star from me as well!” you tried, “maybe he stole the one that was yours, who knows! Get over it so we can win!”

But as soon as you’d said that, the third round had just been won and you sighed and flopped down on your seat again, “not cool Kuroo, not cool. I’ll remember this!”

You both laughed as the game made ready to announce the winner, Kenma and Hinata entertained by your antics.

“You can’t avenge something that I avenged in the first place! I only did it because you did me wrong, you know!”

“You can’t use logic on me, it doesn’t apply!”

To no surprise, you won the entire game, even winning one of the two bonus stars given at the end of the game.

After the last sequence and a bow from you there was a quick break before you decided to play some Mario Kart for Hinata’s sake, since his argument was that he lost due it being Party instead. You played quite a few hours and after another toilet break you had switched places with Hinata so Kenma could cuddle up against him. You yawned, drinking the last of the wine in your glass and said, “I should head home, I have a friend coming over for lunch tomorrow.”

Hinata and Kenma both started to get up to say goodnight but you waved at them with a smile, “I can walk out myself, it’s fine!” But Kuroo had already gotten up from the couch as well, so you walked with him towards the hallway where you put on your shoes. There was a comfortable silence between the two of you, which Kuroo noted and scowled a bit - he might have only known you for less than a week but for some reason he felt like it had been a lot longer, like you were old friends – it felt strange, to be so close with a stranger. He didn’t know anything about you, really. He knew your name, your job and how you liked some of your vegetables and which meat was your favorite, he knew you also loved cats but didn’t have one (he couldn’t remember if he knew why) and he felt pretty sure he would recognize you in a crowded area – why it was so intense, he was unsure of, he hadn’t tried meeting someone this way before. It had also seemed like having this game night had made you considerably more relaxed in his presence, even joking around with him instead of being polite, which made Kuroo somewhat giddy, though it didn’t really make sense to him as to why.

“I hope you had fun,” Kuroo said awkwardly, as if he had been the host and scratched the back of his head.

“Yeah, I did! I’m sorry I stole your star, though,” you laughed, buttoning your jacket.

“Nah, no worries, as they say, all’s fair in love and war, right?”

You giggled and picked up your bag from the dresser while Kuroo opened up the door for you. As you exited, you turned around with a bright smile, “well, thanks for toni-”

Everything ended up a blur, too bright, too much, too noisy, too… colorful? Kuroo was still looking into your eyes as all that went through him, completely blindsided. As he took a proper look, he could see that you looked just as surprised as him, your eyes wide but still never leaving his either.

“Is… Is this? Are you? Is…” You asked after what felt like both days and milliseconds, I could stare at them so much longer, he thought to himself, the colors only making your face more clear to him. Had you really not had eye contact at all? Had you seen each other for several hours – more than a few times, without looking each other in the eyes at all? Kuroo was more baffled by this happening so late than the fact that it was happening.

He was about to say something, anything, when you promptly turned around, nervously yelling, “I-I uh, I gotta go! Goodbye!” as you hurried out of the driveway and down towards the subway.

“W-wait!” Kuroo belatedly and unhelpfully yelled out as you turned a corner, too late. You were gone. A hand was dragged down his face as a sigh left him, what the fuck had just happened? He obviously needed to talk to you about this, but he also needed to gather his thoughts about all of this, so he slowly closed the door and went back towards the living room, greeted by Hinata and Kenma who looked up at him curiously, “why did you yell?” Hinata asked with his head tilted.

“I think I just found my soulmate.”

#haikyuu!!#kuroo tetsurou x you #kuroo tetsurou x reader #hq x reader #waaaaah im so nervous about this!!!! i basically cranked it out in less than 24hrs ngl.... i had 1.5k of beautiful words before i came u #P WITH A WHOLE OTHER PLOT!!!! :-)#if any of u get the ref of the title i love u and we need to play mp together lmao <33333 #also kenhina and tsukiyachi is mentioned!#both reader and kuroo r A MESS #stay tuned for part 2!!!!!!#nohr.writing #half the battle series #im gonna dig a hole real quick to hide in hehehe #honestly im not sure this is entirely coherent i had so much.... i wanted to force into it im afraid some of it feels out of place but!!!#here we go!! face the fear lmao!!!!

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dreamescapeswriting · 3 years

Text

The Collaboration ~ OT7 [Request]

WORD COUNT: 2.1K

GENRE: Fluffy, platonic, established friendship,

PAIRING: Platonic ot7 x Fem!Reader

A/N: I hope this is okay for you sweetheart! It’s been a while since I’ve tried to write ot7 so I hope you enjoy this

The friendship that you had with the BTS boys was no secret, it had been public knowledge since the moment you meant them backstage at an award ceremony almost two years ago. One of your stylists had been recording you getting your hair and makeup done when there was a knock at the door and your manager walked in with them. It was hands down one of the best days of your life, even better than the day you signed your contract to become a singer and actress. The whole video consisted of you freaking out a little before finally coming down from the excitement and just talking with them. You'd been an ARMY for years so getting to meet them in person had been so surreal and then getting to call them all your friends was even more surreal to you.

But the friendship was hugely publicised since you and BTS were both huge artists within the industry which meant a lot of articles were written about you and the boys together. Not all of the articles written about you both had been the nicest, some were and others were a lot worse. Some writing about how you were a nobody until it came to BTS. Some claiming you were dating one of the boys while others claimed that you were dating them all, which would be nearly impossible since you saw them as brothers and they saw you as a sister. Those ones happened to be your favourite to read but mostly because your fans and ARMY would be in the comments defending you or going along with it just to try and troll some people. There had been thousands of edits made to make it look as though you were dating which at first creeped you out and you made a statement about it which lead to less and less being made. It was nice to have that sort of vibe with your fans when they would actually listen to what was going on and what you did and did not like to see.

"The latest articles on us, have you read them?" You questioned Yoongi as you walked into his studio carrying two cups, one with your hot chocolate and another with coffee inside for Yoongi. You'd flown out to Korea for a break from your latest acting gig and decided to visit the boys while you had the chance to see them and actually spend some time together. Most of the boys were still working while you waited for them to go out to lunch with you,

"What is it?" Yoongi chuckled taking the drink you were holding out for him as you brought up the article on your phone and sat down on the sofa behind you, the articles had begun the moment you touched down in Korea. It was going to take you a minute to be able to translate it all into Korean for him but you did your best, the Korean lessons with Namjoon and Jin were paying off really well.

"According to this one I'm using you guys for your fame, I'm only around you whenever I need to go up in fame points," You let out a small laugh at the thought of it. Were fame points even a thing? You continued to scroll through the website when went to the next one which instantly made you want to scream, Jimin walked into the room ready to tell you that he was ready for lunch when he saw the look on your face. It sent shivers up and down his back and made him feel like he was in trouble with you.

"You've got that murderous look on your face, Yoongi...What did you say?" Jimin questioned looking between you and Yoongi as he tried to figure out what could have been said to make you look this angry at something.

"Nothing...He didn't-" You mumbled as you scrolled through the article that was claiming that both of the fandoms were toxic together when it couldn't be further from the truth. Both fandoms were the sweetest you'd seen, ARMY had been so welcoming to you and your fans as well as vice versa. It honestly felt as though they were more like family members to one another than just random fans. You regularly found them defending one another whenever you went onto your personal Twitter account t update your fandom on things.

"A writer is claiming that our fandoms are the most toxic ones out there..." You mumbled as you brought up your keyboard and began getting ready to type out something on your page, you knew you were supposed to rise above things and if it had been about you you would have done. But since it was about people you scared about you had to take the matter into your own hands,

@Y/NOfficial: Thank you to all of you that are always trying to be kind and treat everyone nicely. It's refreshing to see all of you act on behalf of me and other people on this app. You're always so kind and caring and I love to see it.

Along with it, you attached a photo of you with the boys from the night you arrived in Korea so that people would know what you were indirectly tweeting about and just like that people were coming to add smirking emojis or to start laughing about what it was you were actually talking about.

"We should do something..." You muttered as you looked back at Yoongi and Jimin ideas filling your head within seconds. A collabortation between you and the boys had been in talk for a while but neither of your managers had come together to put the plan into action.

"What are you thinking?" Jimin quizzed as he sat himself down next to you looking over at your phone to see what you had just sent out.

"We've spoken about it, Yoongi and I both have song ideas we've been working on..." Yoongi turned to look at you from his chair as he nodded along to what you were saying instantly knowing what you were talking about. There was a huge folder on his laptop dedicated to the work you'd both been doing together both long-distance and in person.

"I still have it all saved on my laptop if you want to take a look at it all." The statement was directed in Jimin's direction as you both waited for him to say something to it,

"Sure...What have you been working on?" He moved closer to Yoongi to take a look over everything and you smiled. The things you and Yoongi had been putting together were a backing track with some melodies and adlibs you'd both been doing overtime. It was far from being done but it was better than having nothing to go off, all you needed to do was get the okay from both of your managers and the rest of the boys.

"I've been working on a rap part for Hoseok and Namjoon and Y/n has been writing her own lyrics for her parts," Yoongi mumbled as you grabbed a spare chair to sit down next to him with. Hitting play he let the melody and your rough lyrics fill the air of his small studio.

The collaboration had been amazing, the song was one of your best works in your opinion and the videos were shot and ready to be released at a moments notice. Teasers had been being released all month between your account and the BTS one but neither of the fandoms had put it together that this would be some kind of collaboration. The teasers for the songs had been dramatically different from one another, Yoongi changing the melodies on his and yours just so that nobody would be able to place that they were the same track. Your Twitter had been focussing on releasing your parts in the video with your words and then the boy's parts only being theirs. The fans had no idea but there were a select few that had pieced it together bit by bit and were starting to realise what was happening but no one else seemed to piece it together.

"It's almost midnight," You said over the call to the boys, all of them were sitting on skype with you as they waited inside Hoseok's studio this time. They were all sitting on the sofa in his room watching the countdown on one of the monitors, the plan was to release the music videos at the same time and wait to see what would happen with the fandoms.

"We've worked so hard for this," Namjoon chuckled as he handed all of the boys a small drink each to celebrate with, you had your own glass of wine to drink while you waited as well. Jungkook cleared his throat as he got up to give a small speech about how much he'd enjoyed working with you.

"You guys worked so great, I don't know how I'll thank you enough." You whispered as you looked at each of them through the screen feeling an overwhelming urge to cry as you thought about how close you'd all grown as a friendship group. This time it was your turn to get a sappy speech but the countdowns began and you smirked looking at the titles, both the same song and video on each channel but the boys had their title while yours was left as. Y/n Y/L/N ???? For a little extra surprise to the fans. Taehyung began counting down from one minute and thirty seconds and the rest of you began to join in with him.

"5...4...3...2...1," The iconic BigHit entertainment logo and intro filled the speakers in your room and you let out a small squeal at the thought of it finally being live after the months of working on it. The boys cheered as the music started and Jin opened up the song for you all walking around their dorms on the screen.

"I'm going to check Twitter!" You yelled out as you brought out your phone to see all of the different reactions that were coming out from the video. Mostly people freaking out thinking Youtube had crashed and placed both videos onto the channel until your line came up. In the music video, you walked onto the set and began singing through your part of the song as if it was casual. The video idea had been that it was just supposed to be a casual setting at the dorms and you randomly walked through the front door and sat with them while singing. The song was about friendship, which wasn't like a lot of songs any of you had written before but it felt like it needed to be said. That people could be friends or more like family members without having to hate one another or have everyone assume that they were dating. It was mostly a huge slap in the face to all the media outlets claiming that you couldn't be friends with the guys because they were...well guys.

"THE COLLAB OF A LIFETIME!" Someone had tweeted out with your retweet of the music video link, you smirked reading through everything that was on the screen, your whole dash refreshing itself every two seconds. Everyone seemed to be loving the fact that you had decided to finally collaborate with the boys,

"They love it," You giggled as you sipped on your glass of wine in celebration of the song coming out, cheering along with the boys.

The night continued on as you waited for people to react to it until you decided to go live on Instagram. The boys were all gone now so you wanted to see what everyone was thinking of it now so you set your phone up on your desk and got ready to read through everything.

"I can't wait to see your reaction videos tomorrow, you guys know I watch all of them." You laughed softly as you stared into the small screen of your phone reading through the thousands of comments that were flying through. Play with your hair if this was because of the article about you using the boys for fame. #Y/nandBTSTakeOver You smirked to yourself before playing with the ends of your hair and winking into the camera, going back to answering more questions from your fans and ARMY wanting them to know how the collaboration had come to be and if there would be more work with them in the future.

Tagline: @lyoongx @mitzwinchester @fan-ati--c @kneel-begyourpardon @taestannie @rjsmochii @bisexualmess007 @innersooya @sw33tnight @sweeneyblue1 @jin-from-the-block

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utterlyinevitable · 3 years

Note

pb let me *redact* Tobias challenge 🥲

not me turning your tobias thirst asks into a 3-part mini series 😂🙈

Pairing: Ethan x F!MC (Becca Lao) x Tobias Carrick Rating: Teen+ Summary: Ethan’s still pissed at Becca for her Tobias stint when he was in the Amazon. What happens when the narcissist joins the team? Trope: Angst; Broke Up; Ethan’s POV; Fighting; Jealousy

A/N: the toxin plot didn’t happen in this universe btw.

Part 1 | Part 2

___________________________

Godly Sins: 3. Parting Wrath of Hera

That evening Tobias and Becca spoke late into the night about anything and everything. Well, everything that didn’t involve Ethan, June and hospital drama, nor their two brief wanton stints - truly getting to know one another and starting fresh.

As days and shifts and weekends rolled by, the sparkle they’ve shared began blooming into a friendship.

It was rather inevitable, really.

Two people who shared an indubitable attraction, forced to spend all their time together out of their boss’ sight - It was kismet.

Meanwhile, Ethan Ramsey had been ignoring them both for weeks outside of Diagnostic Team mandated functions - even then, interactions were brief and mediated by Harper. He’s been on edge since Tobias joined the team as Bloom’s nark, presumably. Or at least that’s what he told himself - convinced himself that nothing good could come from whatever this was.

Oh, how things go horribly, horribly sour.

Becca was sitting in the office waiting for the daily Diagnostics Team meeting to start, busying herself by scrolling through social media over eleven times in the last five minutes.

Steps away, Ethan sat at his desk, keeping a cold shoulder and looking over files he purposely keeps on his desk for awkward times just as these. The air between them stiff and stale, as heavy as it was months ago when they had their falling out. They should have acclimated to the unrelenting suffocation of being left alone together - the third shadow accompanying whatever was left of them.

But they hadn’t. Never really could once she realized Ethan would never forgive her for forming a survivalistic attachment to his biggest adversary. Rebecca Lao wasn’t going to let a man’s misplaced pride stifle her. So, she refuses to stroke his ego by hiding - even through the rancor of being alone with him, and the twangs that erupt when they’re this close. She’s not going to idly hover outside, biding time until Harper or Tobias or Naveen or a nurse, or anyone else enters the office first. She’ll sit and she’ll wait for work to begin.

And Ethan Ramsey will sit at his desk and pretend she’s not there. He’ll pretend he can’t smell her perfume, or hear the tapping of her nails to her phone or the heel to the floor as her leg jitters. He’ll pretend she’s nothing more than a ghost of the past lingering in the cornerstone of his conscious, like all the others. He’ll convince himself he’s angled away from her just enough to keep a peripheral eye on the door in case there’s an emergency, even if that line of vision is really just of her.

If Tobias noticed Ethan staring blankly ahead, he didn’t dare attempt to feign interest. The olive-skinned addition sauntered straight over to Becca, hands full and a thin, satisfied smile at home on his lips.

He set down a large coffee and sandwich wrapped in white paper in front of her. Ethan could just about read the stickered logo from where he sat. But he could see the undoubtable way Becca’s eyes lit up.

“Is this from...”

“The one and only,” Tobias had a cheeky grin - a kind of unbridled simper.

“That was fast.”

“Said I’d buy you breakfast, and I did.” He pulled out the chair closest to her and sat with his signature nonchalant grace. “Did you think I’m not a man of my word?” His hand was waving, palm up, towards the small feast before her.

“More like a flubber.”

Becca’s playful tone matched his in the most complimentary way.

Ethan caught the shining smile they shared - one that could only indicate an inside joke. One that could only mean they were spending too much time together. One that could only mean they were getting along.

Then Tobias plucked a strip of bacon off her sandwich.

And that was when something snapped in Dr. Ramsey.

They weren’t meant to be comfortable. They’re meant to suffer. That was the whole point of constantly pairing them together. These two flawed and moralless people were meant to be a punishment. Just for a while. Just until...

They made a house out of crushed stones.

They flipped the script on how this was meant to play out, and Ethan vehemently resented them for it.

As soon as Harper entered the office, Ethan bolted to his feet and rattled through the meeting. Swift, succinct and blinded by the need to be alone. Alone to plot what comes next.

He was gruffer with them for the rest of the day, and this time they noticed. The scorn seeped through Ethan’s characteristic distain like nuclear waste. Neither Becca or Tobias were guilty of whatever Ethan was holding them accountable for this time - a scapegoat for his repressed feelings. Then why did Becca feel guilty? She did nothing wrong - then or now. This is a natural progression to the seeds he sowed by banishing them.

Ethan will just have to live with the consequences.

***

The consequences came two weeks later. Powerful and damning and freezing Ethan in place, right in the middle of his office. Right in front of them.

Tobias and Becca were perched on the diagnostics’ couch. Becca’s hand is in his and he’s rubbing gentle circles of adoration to the soft skin. He didn’t stop his ministrations as the air around them, once a glorious heated serenity, now turned icy. The chill wafting through with the large presence of their past.

“I don’t want to know,” he grumbles as he pulls himself out of his stupor and storms towards his desk.

The words of her off-handed response were as hard as a lingering look into Medusa’s eyes. “Yes you do, Ethan. So ask.”

The contempt. The exasperation. The overall vile irksome in her tone… It was baiting him. She was baiting him to lose his temper. To acknowledge it all. Ethan didn’t mean to say his inner thoughts out loud, didn’t mean to revert on the divine separation he’s put between them all. And he certainly didn’t mean for her to mistake this moment as an olive branch. However decrepit it is.

Ethan didn’t ask. Just shakes his head and tries to fall back into his ignorance.

He hears the creak of the couch as the pair stand up and the shuffling of two people moving as one. Ethan’s trying so hard not to watch them - trying not to assess their every move and read too much into it. The pair move towards the door when he speaks -

An authoritative statement pegged directly at her. Eyes devoid of feeling, blue irises creeping down the Marianas trench.

“It is unethical to be involved with a colleague.”

Ethan Ramsey was foolish. Especially so to believe he could have the last word - the last victory of battle in the war he started. For Rebecca spun around with such purpose, the skirt of her dress catching on the wind. Her hands at her sides balling, sharp nails grazing palms.

A rueful snort escapes her, “Thought it was only unethical if there’s a power imbalance?”

She had him there. With the forced team democracy Tobias wasn’t technically a superior. Never mind that they aren’t together. Not really.

If he was a better man, Tobias would intervene and set the record straight. He’d position himself in the five feet between these two Edenbrook legacies instead of behind her. Watching. Decoding every tell tale in the tableau.

The way they were glaring at one another, well... The suspicion that floated as his reasoning to send the basket all those months ago was more than confirmed. And Tobias Carrick just realized what he’s just gotten himself into.

“There will be no fraternizing within my team,” Ethan’s voice strained to keep calm. Tried not to bellow the rule he’s kept in place when it comes to Rebecca Lao. His ears beginning to redden and the vein of his neck protruding.

Becca huffed a dry laugh, folded her arms across her chest and looked away. Towards Tobias.

In a few seconds many things happened. Becca’s eyes locked on Tobias, shooting him a look that could only mean one thing. Tobias smiled just for her. Ethan’s heart shattered. And Becca turned back to Ethan.

Her once copper eyes now almost entirely black. “Define fraternizing.”

That had Ethan sputtering and Tobias’ sly smile broadening.

“Because friendship is one thing,” she continued. “Sexual intercourse, another.”

That got a rise out of both men for very different reasons.

“Either way, the nature of my relationship with Tobias is none of your concern.”

They’re staring one another down. His sapphire eyes darker than she’s ever seen - all the hurt they’ve caused one another swirling between. Becca can feel the regret in the tension of his shoulders and the stiffness of his jaw. But for what, she doesn’t know - doesn’t want to. The longer she stands here, looking at him for the first time in months, she fears she’ll see every facet of pain she’s caused, and every reason to back down. And that’s too much to bear. Even after it all there’s still a part of her that loves him, always will.

She’s strong as stone before him, refusing to waver.

Tobias itches to say something, anything. Something that wouldn’t just cut through the tension...

“If it makes you feel better we’ll disclose to HR.”

Ethan’s neck could have snapped with the force of the swiftness as his head whipped towards his rival. Eyes narrowed and sizing Tobias up - decoding every subtext of the phrase. Every little bit of their unknown closeness.

With his steely gaze stuck on Tobias, Becca found the strength to pull away. Turned her back on Ethan and began walking out - not a single glance thrown back over her shoulder for either man. Tobias less than half a step behind her. Leaving Ethan with one final look.

As Ethan watched them walk out, he deflates. A knife stabbed straight to the heart he wasn’t sure he still had. Red blood that beat because of her.

For her.

Still.

***BONUS POV***

As soon as they were out of earshot, down the corridor and away from any lingering ears, Tobias spoke;

“Ever going to tell me what happened between you and Ramsey?”

“A mistake, apparently.”

He squeezed her hand and that’s all that was said on the subject.

______________________

@choicesficwriterscreations @openheartfanfics

Perma:

@lucy-268 @thegreentwin @queencarb @danijimenezv @starrystarrytrouble @terrm9 @interobanginyourmom @maurine07 @mercury84choices @schnitzelbutterfingers @the-pale-goddess @whimsicallywayward15 @mvalentine @mm2305 @rookie-ramsey @drariellevalentine @withbeautyandrage @forallthatitsworth @stateofgracious @missmiimiie @uneravine @iemcpbchoices @sophxwithers @quixoticdreamer16 @lsvdw-blog

Ethan:

@udishaman @binny1985 @honeyandsunfl0wers @wingedhairstylemusicweasel @ohchoices @dulceghernandez @blossomanarchy @stygianflood @openheartthot @senseofduties @tsrookie @kalogh @aworldoffandoms @takemyopenheart @casey-v @ethanramseylover @a-crepusculo @randomperson111 @anntoldst0ries @aishaaaaaaah @estellaelysian @mysticaurathings @mayarambles

@adiehardfan @headoverheelsforramsey @dickgraysonsscrumptiousbooty @jerzwriter @reputaytion-xiii

#open heart #open heart fanfic #choices open heart #ethan ramsey #ethan x mc #ethan ramsey x mc #tobias carrick #tobias x mc

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gifted-burnout-archive · 4 years

Text

The Games We Play

1. Good News, Ruined.

Word Count: 7.8K+

Author’s Note: I had a flood of inbox requests surrounding Luke Patterson x Reader, enemies to lovers/fake dating/all the good stuff, and decided it was too good not to make something bigger. this chapter was sooo fun to write, and obviously with the whole thing being in an AU universe, I get to change a bunch of shit without consequence... So thank you for reading, I hope you love it, this is my nonsense.

Warning: none.

masterlist | taglist

Parents tend to assume things of their children, the practise usually implemented by those who believe ignorance is bliss, especially when it’s easier to assume your kid is studying, or asleep in bed, or catching up on their reading list. Why worry about what your kids are up to after hours when you could share a bottle of wine and fall asleep on the living room sofa watching some shitty Hallmark movie? Enjoying the perfect ideal, even if it isn’t, in fact, real.

It was this sort of behaviour from the likes of Luke Patterson’s parents that led to him sneaking out pretty much every night of summer.

This was, of course, on top of lies about study groups and volunteering work and classical guitar lessons with his school teacher during the day, and it had been going on a lot longer than just the summer. But could anyone really blame the boy when he once again climbed out his bedroom window that last night of the summer, armed with his guitar on his back as he grabbed his bike and started off in the warm August air?

The soft breeze rushed through Luke’s hair and sent his flannel overshirt billowing behind him as he rode down his street, destined for the other side of town, to the other reality he had created without his parents’ knowledge, the world glowing under the last traces of another beautiful sunset. The reds and oranges gave way to tinges of green and the endless expanse of midnight blue the later hours welcomed, street lamps slowly flickering to life as shadows grew and Luke took a hard turn left onto an underpass, pedalling as fast as he could.

He was already late, he was usually late, but that night his mom and dad had demanded a family meal before he began his senior year, something about tradition or memory-making he had been too preoccupied to listen to. His year wasn’t going to be great because of family albums over his dad’s famous chili, though it was very good chili: no, his year was going to be great because of the people waiting for him at the end of his bike ride, and the news that waited with them.

Luke’s summer hadn’t been spent studying like he told his parents, and it hadn’t been spent the way many of his classmates enjoyed their time off school. Luke’s summer, and the majority of his Junior year before, had been spent in a garage in the LA suburbs, one that belonged to the Molinas. He had spent every spare moment there writing, practising, rehearsing, because Luke’s end goal in life was nothing like his parents had planned for him:

Luke was going to be a Rockstar, and the way to that wasn’t school. It was Julie and the Phantoms.

As he pulled up to the familiar residence about fifteen minutes later, legs aching from the high-speed ride over, Luke couldn’t help but smile. Ray and Carlos were out on the porch playing a game of cards under string lights, and it looked like Mr Molina was losing quite spectacularly to his ten-year old son.

“Hi Mr Molina!” Luke called with a wave, distracting Ray for long enough that Carlos managed to sneak a peak at his dad’s hand and plan accordingly.

“Luke, it’s Ray. Please.” Ray corrected, for the one hundredth time, but Luke was a polite kid, and while he wasn’t one for following his own parents’ rules, he was too respectful to ever start his friend’s dad by his first name. “Everyone’s in the garage, they’re waiting for you before they check the website.” Ray called over, and Luke nodded with a bright smile, waving a hurried hello and goodbye to Carlos before rushing towards the garage at the far side of the house, pulling off the straps of his guitar case and bringing it to his front.

The front pocket was stuffed full of scraps of paper, possible lyrics for new band music, which was required since they had managed to get on the YouTube trending page a few months before, and had begun playing the LA music circuit with high levels of success. The band had only been formed, properly at least, for the last year, and their sudden success was calling for them to be scooped up by a record label any day now.

That’s what the team were congregating for that night, Luke entering the converted garage, their studio, to find his bandmates huddled on the couch with their closest friends. In the couch’s centre was Reggie, Julie and Alex: to the blonde’s right was his boyfriend Willie, to Reggie’s right was his girlfriend Kayla, and Flynn paced on the other side of the coffee table, only coming to a halt as six pairs of eyes came up to find Luke fixing his hair from its windswept state after biking across the city.

“Where the Hell have you been?!” Flynn exclaimed, wide eyed and all gestures. She was a Junior like Julie, and perhaps the band’s number one fan: it made sense, she was kind of their manager. “The site is going live any minute now, and we’ve been waiting almost an hour for you to show up!” She hollered, Luke coming forward and placing a hand on her shoulder, the younger girl scowling at him as he did, but she stopped talking, allowing the boy a word in.

“My parents wanted a family meal, I got here as soon as I could.” He explained to the anxious faces, his eyes travelling down to the laptop sat on the coffee table that they all seemed rather focused on. “Is this it?” He asked, and Julie quickly nodded, turning the laptop, displaying a countdown on a website, to face Luke.

48 seconds… He had arrived in the nick of time.

“Will you read it first?” Julie asked in a quiet voice, Flynn taking the girl’s space on the couch behind her, squishing herself between Reggie and Alex. “You take bad news best…” It wasn’t actually true, but it seemed like Luke had been nominated for the task of finding out whether they had hit the jackpot, and looking at his friends’ all tucked onto the three-seater couch, Luke couldn’t bring himself to refuse.

“Alright.” He said with a curt nod, taking a seat at the opposite side of the coffee table as Julie sat herself back down, now on Flynn’s lap as the two girls hugged onto one another in fear.

23 seconds…

“This could be it…” Reggie muttered; his hand interlocked with Kayla’s. She and Willie had come along as emotional support for their boyfriends, and it was a good call: Alex was as pale as a sheet, and Reggie looked like he might vomit. “Imagine… If we’re in this competition, if we qualify… Guys, we could be signing with Fall Down.” He continued, the seconds ticking away as a silence filled the air after the bassist’s words. He was right, sure, but it was too hopeful.

The competition was country-wide, and thousands of bands had sent in their entries. It was quite literally a one in a 100,000 chance they would make it, that they would be one of the twenty bands picked for the competition.

After all, the tagline was quick to remind that ‘only the best’ would get into the Fall Down Records’ Battle of the Bands.

“3… 2…” Luke counted down, and as countdown finally hit zero, Luke refreshed the page.

Instead of the list Luke and his friends had expected to appear, instead he was greeted by a video, and the boy quickly pressed play, turning up the volume to let it play around the room.

“A very big hello from Fall Down HQ in Los Angeles!” The laptop spoke, and Luke looked up at six confused faces, quickly adjusting the laptop and sitting himself on the table so he could watch along with his friends. “I’m Trevor Wilson, and I’ve been given the honour of sharing the Fall Down Records’ Battle of the Bands line-up with all of you, across the world. But first, a quick reminder of the rules.

“This competition looks for the very best young artists in the US, the twenty top finalists getting a chance to join in our televised six-week competition. Each week our contestants are given a new theme to perform for, and each week three bands are eliminated by judges’ and audience vote, until the Final Four Battle it out for glory.” The video explained, but this wasn’t new information to the seen friends watching with desperate hope. “And the grand prize? The victorious band will be leaving with not only a multi-album record deal with Fall Down Records, but their very own World Tour and $1 million for each band member! I cannot make this up, and I can’t stress more when I say that the band winning this competition are going to be changing the history of music, with Fall Down Records and me, Trevor Wilson, by their side.

“Now, enough of me talking. Let’s get to what you’re all here for, the big announcement. Thanks to everyone who submitted their auditions, don’t give up hope on just yet… But viewers, I give you your top 20.” The video disappeared, the website suddenly coming to life with the full list of finalists, and Luke jumped into action to begin scrolling down as everyone leaned forward, instinctively, Luke’s finger moving as fast as it could past other acts.

Finalists came from all across the country, from all music genres: they scrolled past Idols, a country trio from Nashville; Rallico, an R&B group from New York; Everest, the folk-pop band from Montana. Luke’s finger continued to scroll, through videos and bios on each of the bands, and he counted as he went through to himself. 11, 12, 13…

“STOP!” Kayla shrieked suddenly, Luke moving his hand from the mousepad in surprise, his eyes finally focusing on the screen, the haze of scrolling quickly subsiding. He had to blink once, then twice, just to be sure, glancing back at the shocked faces of his friends beside him, making sure they were all seeing the same thing.

NUMBER 15: JULIE AND THE PHANTOMS. FROM LOS ANGELES, CALIFORNIA.

“Oh my God…” Alex breathed out, the first to speak as he clutched onto Willie’s hand, and one by one, the faces on the couch went from looks of worry to ones of ecstatic joy.

“Oh my God!” Julie yelped, jumping off of Flynn’s lap and flapping her hands, unsure what to do for a moment, but Reggie quickly stood up as well, and the pair embraced in a tight hug. It took a few moments for the rest of the room to process, but the moment everyone had…

Carlos and Ray heard the screaming from their cosy spot at the front of the house, whooping and yells of triumph echoing across the cul-de-sac as the kids celebrated their achievement.

The hugs and bouncing and complete inability to stay still probably lasted a solid seven minutes, and by the time Luke was coming down from the high of the news, Julie was disappearing round the corner to tell her dad and brother, Reggie was spinning Kayla in his arms, and Alex had found himself in a rather heated kiss with Willie. His eyes went back to the laptop, and he removed himself from a hug with Flynn to sit back on the couch, scrolling back up to the top of the finalist website page.

“What are you doing man?” Reggie asked, Kayla jumping off his back and taking the bassist’s hand as they walked over to Luke, the boy pressing play on the first of 19 videos, the audition tapes of the other competitors.

“We’re up against all these other groups, the competition starts in a few days… I want to see what we’re up against.” Luke explained, the words pulling Alex and Willie over to the laptop too. The five pressed play on the first video, Luke leaning over and turning the volume up as high as it would go as the first band’s music began to play. “Willie, can you go get Julie?” The raven-haired boy nodded, squeezing Alex’s hand one last time in celebration before rushing towards the Molina residence to collect Julie and Flynn.

“I can’t believe we actually managed this…” Alex scoffed in disbelief, running a hand through his hair and glancing over at his friends with the brightest of smiles. To think, the three had met at the age of 10, that all those days of mindless rehearsal led them to Julie, which led them to this?

“You guys deserve it.” Kayla commented with a smile, glancing down at her watch with a frown. “Shit, I forgot about curfew…” She muttered, pressing a kiss to Reggie’s cheek. “I need to get home; I’ll give Willie a lift too. See you tomorrow babe?” She asked Reggie, who nodded fast as Willie came back with Julie and Flynn. “Curfew, Skater Boy.” She reminded Willie; whose eyes widened before muttering a soft curse to himself.

“Right.” He sighed, waving a quick goodbye to his boyfriend and friends before slipping out the door with Kayla. Flynn watched them go, giving Julie and quick hug.

“This seems to be a band member meeting now, and I need a ride. See you tomorrow, alright?” Flynn asked, and Julie nodded, the pair sharing another hug before Flynn too disappeared through the garage doors, leaving the band to themselves.

There was a comfortable silence, as they all looked at one another, as they all came to terms with the sheer insanity of what was happening. Out of thousands upon thousands… Out of millions of applicants, Julie and her Phantoms had managed to snag a spot in the country’s biggest competition, managed to get themselves a chance at a record deal, at a world tour, at millions of dollars…

“So,” Julie said with a grin at her three best friends on the couch, the boys looking to her for their next move. “These other contestants…” She made her way over to the couch, sitting herself between Luke and Alex quite comfortably and taking charge of the laptop from Luke, who was happy to hand over control. “Why don’t we break this down?”

“Well,” Alex spoke up as he peered over Julie’s shoulder, the girl clicking on the second contestants’ audition tape, the sound of soft banjo filling the air. “If we want to win… We need to be looking for the biggest threat across the board, not just in one category.” He said, his friends looking over in slight surprise. It was undoubtable that of the guys, Alex was the smart one, but his smarts weren’t something he used very often to begin with. He coughed and ran a hand through his hair, sitting up a little straighter. “I just mean, the competition is a new theme every week, right? Well, we’re a band with a pretty wide range. I mean, Reggie with his banjo is just a start.” The blonde gestured across the couch, the compliment causing his friend to grin and wave. “If we’re optimistic here, planning the hypothetical that we make it past week one-”

“The band that’s going to be the hardest to beat is the one with range, like us.” Luke finished for his friend, clicking onto contestant number 3, the audition tapes only 90 seconds long, and gesturing to Reggie. “Get a pen and paper, we need to start writing notes.” He decided, and Reggie pouted.

“Why do I have to do it?” He asked, and Julie let out a laugh.

“Luke taking notes would be a waste of time, his handwriting is worse than a doctor’s, and Alex and I have thinking to do.” She explained simply, but it was enough for Reggie to grumble his way over to a dresser on the far side of the room they kept stocked with stationery in case inspiration struck, coming back over and sitting on the ground, getting into position to write.

“Back to contestant 1.” Julie instructed, the four beginning their first bout of research.

It was well after midnight when the band were only just reaching the end of their list. Alex was pacing as he listened to the audition tapes of their competitors over and over again, Luke and Julie both huddled over the laptop as Reggie jotted down notes.

They all should have gone to bed over an hour ago, what with their first day of school that morning, the last first day of school for the guys, but there was too much excitement, too much energy buzzing through them, and this research was the best way to channel it.

Where other subjects were not their strongest suit, everyone of the kids in that room excelled at music: not just playing it, but understanding it. This was a competition, and from what extensive knowledge they shared on Fall Down Records, this was not about looking for one-hit wonders or kids with untapped potential. It was about finding stars already in the making and pushing them forward.

This was good news for the four kids, and bad news for some of their opposition. It became clear in the first half of the tapes who was and who was not going to last long in the competition, a clear divide that didn’t seem like it would change any time soon. Alex was walking around the room that night trying to figure out just who would be going home in the weeks to come, and where Julie and the Phantoms would fall into the grand scheme of things.

“Final video.” Julie announced, the blonde looking over and deciding it would be best to sit himself down, at least for the watch through. Reggie too seemed intrigued as to who their last challenger would be. As Julie clicked her way onto the video, she was confused for a moment when presented with a black screen, wondering if she had accidentally turned her computer off.

Suddenly, a noise, unlike any Luke or Julie or the guys had heard in the last few hours of investigation. Accompanied by bongo drums and maracas, they were all expecting some sort of island breeze music, quite honestly, and Luke was about to pause and check the band’s name once more when the odd noise was suddenly replaced by a much more familiar one: an electric guitar coming in with the drums. An image finally flickered to screen, unlike the other videos of live performances across the country or awkward homemade recording sessions, this band had opted for an old, grainy video quality, a sepia coloured moving picture of hands beginning to play along on the guitar.

“All that I want is to wake up fine. Tell me that I’m alright, that I ain’t gonna die. And all that I want is a hole in the ground, you can tell me when it’s alright for me to come out.” The first few seconds were enough to leave jaws hanging, and though he would later deny it, Luke’s was on the floor.

The sound was so different, such a bizarre mix of percussion and pop and rock, with such a happy sound despite the bleak lyrics. It was impressive, to say the least, and suddenly the picture before them flashed away to reveal the band on a white stage, all dressed in block colours, and Luke scanned over the set up: they had a guy on drums who was dressed from head to toe in blue; a girl in all green on a beatmaker surrounded by the odd percussion they had heard at the song’s beginning, the funny noise revealed to be a marimba; the second guy was on guitar, though it wasn’t quite clear if he was lead or rhythm, and adorned in orange; and then finally…

“Hard Times.” The three other bands members sang, introducing the chorus for their front woman.

“Gonna make you wonder why you even try. Hard times, gonna take you down and laugh when you cry. These lives, and I still don’t know how I even survive. Hard Times, hard times.” She sang in a vision of block colour red, in a short tennis skirt and crop top beneath an oversized blazer, a pair of opaque red cat-eye sunglasses perched on the edge of her nose. The hands from the opening shots of the guitar playing had been her, the instrument a bright red that matched the outfit she wore, and Luke quickly realised that everybody’s instruments matched their clothing colour.

“Marimba…” Luke heard Reggie mutter under the music, only for them to be silenced by the chorus’ final line.

“And I gotta get to rock bottom!” The distortion on her voice as she half sang, half yelled the line was jarring and enchanting and Luke had to let out a bated breath as she continued, lifting the mic off its stand and walking to the boy in orange, passing the guitar duties over to him as she began to sing again, the camera focusing in on the girl in green’s ability on the beatmaker, her fingers dancing over the buttons as they brought in the bridge.

“Tell my friends I’m coming down. We’ll kick it when I hit the ground.” Another drastic change to this soft head voice, paired with the instrumental making it feel like, for a moment, they had all been sucked into a dream. “Tell my friends I’m coming down. We’ll kick it when I hit the ground… When I hit the ground. When I hit the ground. When I hit the ground.” The final note hung for a moment in the air, everything else going silent to let it resonate as the singer hung onto the boy in orange by the shoulder, her hand rising up to pinch his cheek before the final chorus hit.

“Hard Times.”

“Gonna make you wonder why you even try. Hard times, gonna take you down and laugh when you cry. These lives, and I still don’t know how I even survive hard times. Hard times.” The whole band sang the final chorus, their front woman spinning across the stage and singing in harmony with the girl in green, red’s voice riffing on the last notes as the beatmaker brought the snippet of music brought to a close, the screen going black as the music continued to came to a halt. “And I gotta get to rock bottom!”

And there it was… Their main competition.

Luke couldn’t drag his eyes away from the black screen, still trying to get over what he had just heard: while he was more partial to the music he made with his own band, there was undeniable star power in just that song, and four talented musicians to accompany it… Not to mention their lead singer.

He didn’t think he’d go into the contest attracted to a rival band member.

“They used… A marimba?! A marimba…” Reggie exclaimed finally, the first to talk, or rather yell, the leather jacket-clad boy jumping from his seat with his arms stretched in front of him in exasperation. The majority of their night had provided information on bands that gave them a challenge for first place, but confidence they might just grab it. And now? Now they had more than competition, but a threat to the biggest break of their lives.

“Electra Heart…” Alex read the band name out loud, frowning a little as he said it, something about the words seeming familiar. “I feel like I’ve heard of these guys before.”

“Maybe because they’re from California as well?” Julie suggested, pointing to the end of their title card as Contestant 20, stating the band were from San Diego, just two hours away from where they all sat.

“Watch out.” Reggie muttered, turning to face his friends once more and waving a hand at Luke. “Patterson’s smitten.” He muttered, the words knocking a frown on Luke’s face as he straightened up and closed over the laptop, putting the voice of the mystery girl to the back of his mind.

“First off, I’m not. And second? This is a good thing!” Luke exclaimed, though it was clear to everyone he was changing the subject. “The contest starts in two weeks, and we have the upper hand. We submitted Bright as our audition song, and it’s great, but that wasn’t even our best performance of it! We literally ran out of time to submit something better!” He reminded them all, drawing their minds back to the start of the summer. They had done their very best to piece together the audition tape, but Julie had suddenly gotten sick and they lost a week or so of their schedule. They ended up submitting a draft version, and still got in. “That is probably their top tier, and we know we can match and beat that! Right now, they’ll think they have this in the bag, when they don’t.” He got to his feet, walking over and hooking an arm around Reggie’s neck. “We’re going into this prepared, and ready to blow the show’s socks off, yeah?”

“Yeah!” His bandmates chorused, Julie standing up and prompting Alex to do the same, the four congregating in the centre of the studio. She was the first to hold out her hand.

“Legends on three.” She called; smiles shared amongst the band.

“One.” Reggie went first.

“Two.” Alex next.

“Three.” Luke finished, four hands stacked atop each other, four teammates ready to try and take on the impossible.

Sleep didn’t come to Luke that night.

He opted to cycle home despite the late hour, and clambered into bed at around 3 am while Reggie opted to stay overnight in the studio, too lazy to take himself home, not that it was an uncommon occurrence. Since Alex has started living with the Molinas, Luke and Reggie found themselves crashing more and more often.

But Luke cycled home anyway, mainly because he wanted the chance to think in private, to be alone as he planned their success now the competition slot was confirmed. It was the opportunity of their lifetime: he wasn’t going to give it up without a fight. No matter how beautiful the lead singer of Electra Heart was.

She weighed on his mind from the moment he saw her well past sunrise, and as the light flooded in through Luke’s curtains with the boy getting no sleep, he opted for a shower before his parents got up for work, and hopefully getting to avoid talking with them as much as possible until Kayla came by to pick him up, always with Julie, Alex and Reggie in tow.

That was another thing: how would he be suddenly breaking the news of his rock band on global television to his parents, who have yet to find out how he really spends his free time?

As he stood under the hot water that morning, washing away the adrenaline and sweat from the night before, he couldn’t help but hum the girl’s song: why was it so catchy? He tried to rinse it away with his fatigue and the aches in his legs from the biking to and from Julie’s, but it wasn’t budging, and neither was her face. In an act of defeat, Luke clambered out the showered, and shoved his earbuds in as he dried himself off and got dressed for the day, drowning out her voice in his head with the loudest music his phone had available.

As Luke continued about his morning, shuffling around the house as he sorted his laundry for the week and got his bag ready for classes, it was only once his dad yanked on of the earphones out of his ear that Luke figured he might have had the music too loud.

“Lucas, you play that music any louder you’ll be deaf by year’s end.” His father muttered, gesturing for his son to take a seat at the table. Luke glanced at the clock: it would be another twenty minutes before Kayla showed up in the car, and he decided it wasn’t the morning to start an argument.

“What’s up?” He asked, reaching over and grabbing an apple as his father sighed across the table, cradling a cup of coffee in his hands. Luke took a bite, the flavour and scent filling his senses, only for that damned ear-worm to return.

“Luke, your mother and I are worried…” His dad began, and Luke frowned. It wasn’t the first time they’d had this conversation, it wouldn’t be the last. His parents had been set on sending him to college, or some sort of naval academy by Christmas, and Luke had continued to adamantly refuse. His grades were still doing well, perhaps thanks to the amount he copied off of Alex, and with his plan being the band anyway, it’s not like he needed school that badly anyway. “We want you to explore your options, to at least give some thought to your future.” His dad continued, and Luke took another bite of his apple, the song rattling in his head.

“I’m just fine.” Luke assured with an insincere smile, getting up from the table and heading back towards his room to grab his school bag. Perhaps he would just walk further down the road, get picked up on the Main Street.

“Son, come on now.” His father was a quiet, stern man, so while the words alone would have been a plea, the tone twisted them to an order, and Luke stopped just before his bedroom. “There’s an open day in a few weeks, all we ask is you go to it. No commitment, just attendance.” He continued, and Luke glanced back, shrugging.

“If you’ll get off my back about it then yeah.” He conceded with a roll of his eyes, quickly opening his room door and slamming it shut behind him, ending the conversation before his father ventured into small talk.

He waited in there, picking at his apple as he hummed the song from the night before, until a horn sounded outside, Luke then scooping up his school bag and rushing out the house as fast as he could, shouting a quick ‘goodbye’ as he slipped round the front door and closed it firmly, letting out a heavy breath.

He took a moment to compose himself before starting a light jog down his front lawn’s pathway to the car waiting at the bottom of the drive, chock full of his friends. Reggie was driving, Kayla and Julie sat tucked together on the front bench of the old vintage, while the back seat of the convertible was occupied by Alex, Flynn and Nick, who waved Luke over to the space free beside him.

“You know Kayla, the more people we pack in this car, the more likely it is your dad takes his car back.” Luke commented as he jumped into his tight spot in the back, sharing a fist bump with Nick as Reggie sped off in the direction of school.

“My dad gave up rights to this car the moment I started filling the tank, Patterson.” Kayla called back, Luke smiling and letting his head loll back as they raced along the back streets towards school. He could say he never felt more at home than with his friends, in moments like this.

“Like, shit, I forgot to congratulate you.” Nick called over the chatter in the car, garnering his friend’s attention with a dimples smile and tousled hair from the wind. Despite only the year separating them, Luke thought of Nick as a little brother, and the comment made him grin and pat Nick’s shoulder.

“Congratulate me when we win Battle of the Bands.” Luke corrected, leaning closer to make sure the front seat didn’t hear his next words. “And I’ll congratulate you once you finally ask out Julie, alright?” He posed the offer, Nick’s cheeks turning bright red. Luke chuckled it away, sharing a glance with Apex from across the backseat.

When they all got thrown into the same music class three years ago, it was pretty clear to Alex and Luke that Nick likes Julie, and vice versa. They had been trying to set the pair up ever since, with minimal levels of success. But with the impossible seeming to occur everyday now, who knew what might happen?

Reggie sped through a stop sign and near drifted round the corner into the parking lot, sending everyone in the car but Kayla grabbing for stability, whether it were the dashboard of the door or the back of seats, but they didn’t hit anything, and Reggie pulled into the assigned parking space the car had kept for the last year or so, right in front of the school quad.

“I can’t believe it’s the first day of our last year…” Alex remarked as everyone gathered their things and clambered out the car. They had become a collective over the past few years, a friendship group not easily frayed or broken, and as they walked in almost a clump across the school lawn, with Julie in the lead, it was quite difficult to not notice the rest of the school’s eyes resting on them.

Word must have gotten out about their good luck.

“What are you guys going to do without us when we’re gone?” Reggie asked with a grin, his arm sling over his girlfriend’s shoulder as the pair sauntered in the group’s centre, and Flynn turned back from her place beside Julie.

“Maybe get some school work done for once.” She clapped back, earning a chorus of chuckles and tones of agreement from amongst the group.

Luke was hanging back in the rear, taking a moment just to observe his friends, a habit he had gotten into over the summer: this was the last year they would, theoretically, all be together, and Luke had no intention of wasting any of his time with them.

“Hey, uh, Luke!” A voice interrupted his thoughts, the brown-haired boy spinning on the spot to come face to face with one of his classmates. She wasn’t someone he knew very well, granted, but he still smiled and took a step towards her, laying down the infamous charm.

“What can I do you for?” He asked with a dopey grin, which later turned to a smirk when she blushed profusely at his words.

“I was just… uh… Congratulations! On the contest, everyone’s talking about it.” She paused, rummaging in her bag and pulling out a slip of paper, Luke pulling a hand out of his pocket to accept the offering. “If you ever, I don’t know, if you’re ever free and wanna go out for a coffee or something…” She trailed off, and Luke examines the name and phone number.

“Well, Sara,” He read her name out, looking up at her as he spoke. “I’ll send you a text, maybe?” He suggested, taking a few steps back when he heard the sound of Julie shouting his name.

“Uh, yeah! Cool! See you around!” Sara beamed, waving him off as Luke turned to catch up with his friends, the interaction boosting his ego a little more as he went into day.

In fact, by the time lunch had come around, Luke’s day had been rather jammed packed with words of praise and offers of phone numbers, and it seems like his band mates had been experiencing the same thing. When Luke arrived at lunch after a gruelling lesson with Mr Norbert, glad that the rest of his day would consist solely of music, he found his friends at their preferred lunch table, each with a collection of notes falling from their pockets.

“Am… Do I need to act more gay? I thought people knew I was gay.” As Luke sat down, Alex asked the question to the table, Willie’s hand rubbing his boyfriend’s shoulders.

“What do you mean?” Luke asked as he set down his tray and took a bite of his sandwich.

“Four girls… Four girls have tried to ask me out today! And I mean, how am I supposed to respond to that? Did they not know I was gay in the first place?” He questioned again, head frantically searching for an answer as the boy’s anxiety began to build, only to be wheeled by Willie’s lip pressing to Alex’s cheek.

“Join the club, guys.” Carrie spoke up from the end of the table, a vision in pink as she and Julie shared notes from a previous class. “I’ve literally been receiving Instagram DMs for years, all the Dirty Candi girls have. The amount of guys that think they can ‘make you straight’.” The girl involuntarily shivered and let out a sigh. “This is just the beginning for you four. The amount of fan mail thanks to the competition will be huge.”

The Dirty Candi girls had been a group as long as Julie and the Phantoms has, but their music was so different there was no need for competition. They all just sort of became friends instead, and when it became clear the girls wouldn’t be allowed to audition for the Battle of the Bands because of Carrie’s dad’s position at Fall Down Records, there was a mixture of sadness and relief. No hard feelings were had, and no hard feelings would happen, because the last thing the friends wanted was to be compared with one another. They were all talented.

Plus, Dirty Candi performed on Ellen, so if anything they were currently the more well-known.

“In other news.” Flynn spoke up, pulling her eyes away from her phone to address the group. “There’s a new transfer student.” She announced, and glanced over at the clock on the far side of the cafeteria. “We should all be meeting them in about half an hour.” She said decidedly.

“How do you know?” Reggie asked with a mouth full of pasta. He had a semi-circle of clutter around him as he tried to eat and copy homework all at the same time, the boy quite aware of how lucky he was to have better-prepared friends than him.

“Mrs Harrison was our free period supervisor this morning. She got a call, disappeared from class and didn’t come back for twenty minutes.” Nick spoke up on Flynn’s behalf, the girl turned back to her phone to feverishly type away at the screen. “Mrs H has to welcome all the new music students.” He added quickly, glancing across the table as Julie nodded in agreement.

“They’re a senior, or we would have seen them in classes this morning.” The band’s lead singer stacked on top of the Juniors’ theory, and Carrie quickly got her attention back to point out a mistake she had made on the maths coursework.

“New students come in every year.” Luke remarked, brushing off the fascination with a wave of his hand. “Maybe we should talk a bit more about, oh you know, the fact that we’re going to be playing to millions of people on a televised game show in a fortnight!” Luke exclaimed, earning grins from around the table as they all got that hit of realisation again. It had felt like a dream the night before.

“Well, I don’t wanna spill secrets…” Carrie started, all eyes quickly on her. “But with dad hosting the show, there are some responsibilities the Wilson family are taking on… Like an acoustic jam session for the competing bands to meet each other.” She revealed with a squeak, taking a hold of Julie’s arm with excitement. “And don’t even get me started on the Halloween bash the Record Label will be holding…” She added, and Kayla hit Carrie’s arm playfully.

“You keep this up and you’ll rig the competition, C.” Kayla reminded with a meaningful smile, and the pink-themed girl rolled her eyes, but fell quiet nonetheless.

The conversation steered away from the competition for the rest of the lunch period, the friends slowly beginning the walk to music as eyes watched them pass. It wasn’t something any of them acknowledged, well, apart from Carrie on occasion, but they were the popular kids.

It was a mixture of charm, friendliness and musical success, but they had become the ‘it’ kids of Los Feliz High. None of them particularly disliked the role they had been prescribed either: the more people they knew, the more people would hear their music, the more people they could share their passion with. And it was nice, too, sitting at the top of the food chain. They had all been at the bottom at some point in time, and knowing their influence on their peers was a positive gave them all a little bit of pride.

“Quickly, quickly!” Mrs H called from the doorway down the hall, ushering the group to hurry toward the classroom, Julie and Luke in the lead as the nine kids shuffled through the door of the band room, Mrs H closing the door behind them. Their teacher quickly checked through the window to make sure no-one was on approach.

“Mrs H, is everything ok?” Julie asked, taking a step forward, and their teacher nodded quickly.

“I have a favour to ask. We’ve got a new student joining. I didn’t want to ask with other kids listening in but.” Mrs H paused, and relief flossed the faces of her students. There wasn’t any danger, just a request they usually got. “Could you make her feel at home? I. She’s been admitted to the program without an audition, I have no clue of her ability. I just don’t want her being overwhelmed, turned away again.”

“Anything for you, Mrs Harrison.” Luke chipped in, their teacher smiling and letting out a breath.

“Thank you… Right, get yourselves seated, we can have a chat more about this competition during second period, I’ll go fetch her from the office.” Mrs H explained, rushing out the door as their classmates filed in, the room becoming a hub of activity rather quickly as kids picked up their instruments and began tuning.

“How does someone get into the music program without auditioning?” Reggie asked, though there was no malice, just naïve curiosity. Unfortunately, his friends didn’t know how to answer him. It was a question they all had on their minds as they got themselves comfy in the room’s far corner, Luke collecting his guitar and Reggie’s bass from one of the storage cupboards, the pair nodding Julie over to the piano to help them tune the guitars.

It was Julie sat herself down at the grand piano that the door suddenly swung open, Principal Brown coming into the room in a dazzling magenta pantsuit.

“Good afternoon students.” She greeted, receiving a chorus of ‘good afternoon Principal’ back. “As some of you already know, we have a new transfer student joining us for her senior year, and she will be studying alongside you all part-time at the school’s music program.” The principal prefaced, quickly gesturing outside the door for Mrs Harrison to enter along side their new classmate.

“Is that…” Julie whispered, receiving a nod from Reggie and Luke.

The girl from the video last night, the front woman for Electra Heart, stood in their music classroom’s doorway, dressed like a model off a runway, a cigarette perched behind one ear. She was wearing a pair of red plaid trousers, paired with black heels and a corset style crop top, an oversized jean jacket thrown on top, all matched to a pair of sunglasses perched on the end of her nose. Her hair was in a bun, showing off the cigarette behind her ear and a collection of piercing along the earlobe. Her nails were all painted the same colour of red as her trousers, which matched the colour on her lips, which matched the outer corners of her eyeshadow.

“Perhaps you can introduce yourself?” Principal Brown asked, she too noticing the cigarette and plucking it from the girl’s ear, throwing it in the nearby trash can. The girl seemed unfazed by her actions, eyes scanning over the room until they landed on the piano, and the band members stood around it.

Luke couldn’t help but stare back, trying his best to keep his jaw from going slack. How was she here? How did she look better in person? And why in the name of God was Luke overcome with a sense of nostalgia as they looked each other over. There was something other worldly about her, something that made Luke feel like he was younger again. It was the eyes, that raked over his body as she smirked, eyes Luke had known to be timid and frantic when they were kids…

It suddenly click in his head.

“Class.” Mrs Harrison decided to speak for the student. “The is Y/N Y/L/N.”

“No fucking way…” Alex muttered standing up from the back of the class, causing confusion amongst his and Luke’s friends. The rest of them seemed to be missing something important, but were yet to figure out what.

“Y/N, why don’t you find yourself a seat?” Mrs H suggested, Principal Brown taking her leave as Y/N sauntered towards the far corner of the classroom, not pausing for even a second as she sat herself on Luke’s chair, arms folding over her chest as Luke’s gaze on her turned from one of surprise to one of raw, unfiltered annoyance, something Julie would later describe as ‘the angriest she’s ever seen’ her friend.

The pair stared each other down for a moment, Y/N the first to move and reach out an arm, taking Alex’s nearby hand in hers as he stayed standing, shocked by the revelation.

“Seven years is a long time, isn’t it?” Her voice was smooth, trained, like molasses dripping down. It stuck in Luke’s head, the words taking hold over his brain just like her song had earlier that day. Alex pulled the girl to her feet suddenly, the pair embracing in a tight hug, staying like that for a moment as the class watched on, as their friends watched on.

When they finally pulled apart, the girl turned her attention to the frowning Luke, whose knuckles were clenched so firmly that the skin was as white as bone.

It couldn’t be. How was she here? It had to be some kind of joke.

But her eyes were the same, her smirk so familiar, and the deal was sealed when she sat herself back down and crossed one leg over another, in his chair, sending a wink his way that was anything but playful.

“Well, hello there, Skywalker.”

He had always hated that nickname...

TAGS: @siennanoelle01 @epikskool @eries45 @thesweetestsinner @fangirlangioma @moviesbooksandfandoms @ohyoureaqueenbutuncrowned @saroo-hawks @charliessunset @lana-moe-fandoms @bigdesi @avngrsinitiative @emotionalbruv @lolychu @lazydaisy19 @korydickson @futuremrsb-r-main @uglypeachh @reggieandthereggies @rogersangel @izzyhogue @writerinlearning @independentgirl @delicatelukepatterson @mybrainiswhack @uhmitstori @mon-charmante @writingforphantoms @musicconversedance @mjflower @heimdoodle @kcd15 @-episkey- @billiesburritoess @walkingonshunshine @obxmermaid @sunsetcurvenotsunsetswerve @kristencoontz @n0wornever @simp4madi @aliciameix @kinda-just-chillin-here @jatpfan @blueyed-one @vicesvsvirtuesfanfic @ghostlyb1tch @leahstypewriter

#luke patterson #jatp au #luke patterson x reader #luke patterson x y/n #luke patterson jatp #jatp luke x reader #jatp luke #jatp #julie and the phantoms #willex #luke patterson imagine #fluffy smut #fluffy angsty smut #smut #fluff #angst #julie and the phantoms alternate universe #enemies to lovers

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jeonjeonggukenergy · 4 years

Text

Anti-Hero

summary ~ in search of wine at a party that’s so not your scene, you run into jungkook, the weeb from your film class, and become determined to learn just how much he lives up to his big reputation.

pairing ~ jungkook x reader

genre ~ fluff, smut - college!au

wordcount ~ 8.5k

warnings ~ 18+ only! smut, explicit discussion of kinks/sexual preferences (yay healthy communication), dom/sub undertones during both discussion and sex (dom Jungkook, sub reader), mentions of daddy kink and degradation but both are a no, marking, biting, hair pulling, spanking, they both have a srs pain kink lmao, brief oral (f receiving), penetrative sex, creampie

a/n ~ SO excited to finally have this chapter out for yall! it’s a huge one and i’ve been working on it for quite a while, this includes the first full smut scene for this fic and i would love to know how yall like it or any other feedback. i really enjoyed writing the character development in this chapter too! they’re so cute and whipped for each other already hhhhhh. thank you so much for loving this story so far, i’m really looking forward to writing the rest. hope you enjoy! ❣️

previous: chapter 1 | chapter 2 ~ next: chapter 4 (coming soon!)

~ read on ao3 ~

CHAPTER 3 ~ particular, perfect

You concluded your walk home by ditching your shoes at the door, swinging your bag off your shoulders to the floor, and plopping down onto the couch immediately. Pulling all three nearby blankets over yourself, you realized you still weren't quite comfortable. You looked around for a second, puzzled, until an absentminded clutch of your boobs reminded you why. Triumphantly, you reached into a sleeve to untangle your bra and chucked it across the room with a deep stretch of relief. Okay, time to overthink again.

Jungkook? What the fuck?

Wait. A bag of chips on the kitchen counter caught your eye before you could descend any further into panic. The perfect emotional crutch. You clutched it to your chest like a safeguard against your own internal monologue, anxiously shoving handful after handful into your mouth. After about thirty minutes spent motionless on the couch with one hand shoved in the chip bag and the other distractedly scrolling through Twitter, your eyes suddenly widened and your hand froze, dropping your next bite of chips back into the bag. Fuck. You had just eaten nearly an entire family-size bag of chips before what could end up being your first fuck in over a year. Well, maybe this was part of why you hadn't gotten fucked in over a year. No, don't go there. You shoved down your own insecurity, knowing you'd just been too busy for a relationship and honestly, probably still were. But that wasn't going to stop you today.

You shook the chip dust off of your hands and got up to head to the shower, turning up your trashiest throwback playlist of getting-ready bops and resolving to at least shave your legs. Going in with no expectations was probably the best strategy here, but it never hurt to be prepared.

Having cleaned his apartment in record time, Jungkook was now at the gym. After triple-checking that his roommate Jin would be in rehearsal until 10pm at the earliest, he quickly scanned all the common spaces and his bedroom and realized he didn't actually have that much work to do besides politely closing the door to Jin's still-decent-but-somewhat-messier room. To be honest, Jungkook had mainly bought himself the time after class so he could shave just in case. But then he figured if he had to shower, he might as well hit the gym first. So here he was, burning off an unprecedented amount of nervous energy. Settling comfortably into the leg curl machine, he turned his music up and started on a low weight to put in reps until his thighs burned and his head felt pleasantly empty.

After completing his normal leg day rotation and dutifully stretching, Jungkook prepared to head home. He walked out of the gym feeling more energized and centered, barely even flinching when he switched his AirPods off to say bye to the nice girl at the front desk and the action accidentally blasted "Whistle" by Flo Rida from his phone speaker for the whole lobby to hear. As he walked back into his apartment, the kitchen clock let him know it was only 4:30. He had plenty of time. Jungkook hopped straight into the shower, shampooing his hair, shaving everywhere he normally did, and savoring several extra moments to relax his muscles under the hot stream of water. Finally, he toweled off to wrap up in the black t-shirt and cozy matching sweatpants he'd carefully stacked on the counter. Offhandedly singing to himself in the steamy mirror, he checked the time on his phone, deciding he might as well go ahead and text you before he got nervous again and did something stupid. Like chickening out completely.

hey its jk! im ready when u are :) my apt is 344 glencoe rd #1521 (yes its on the 15th floor sry D: )

His charming old-school smileys lit up your phone while you still had a leg perched on the bathtub's edge.

"Fuck!" you reacted. The hiss resounded, thanks to the too-good acoustics of your cramped bathroom. Your razor clattering to the floor, you paused your max-volume 2000s music to check the message, and then the time. Only 5! That wasn't dinnertime yet. Plugging his address into Google Maps, though, you realized it was a 15- to 20-minute drive from yours on the opposite end of campus. Even if you got ready at light-speed, you would get there closer to 5:30. Which was a bit more reasonable. He was being reasonable! You should be ready by now!

You leaned over to pick up your razor and cursed again as the water stream grazed the blouse you'd left on out of laziness. You'd showered this morning, so there was no need to repeat that with your shave, but now you'd have to change outfits completely. Feeling like an idiot, naked from the waist down but now all the way wet, you peeled the shirt over your head slowly to preserve your good hair day and glanced down at the dilemma you'd been facing. The patch of hair between your legs stared back at you like the final boss of stupid societal beauty standards. You'd only shaved down there once, as an anniversary present for your first boyfriend the summer before college, and it had been a fun, smooth novelty for about two hours and then itchy, red, gross-looking, and miserable for about three weeks. Also, it had kind of made you feel like a little girl, which creeped you out when you thought about why guys would prefer it. You'd been debating whether to try it again for the past fifteen minutes, because if there was ever a right time, this was probably it. But now you didn't have time, if you were going to be respectful and not keep Jungkook waiting. Well, this was the real you. He could take it or leave it.

Slathering a quick coat of lotion over your freshly shaved legs, you prepared to get dressed in a soft pastel sweatshirt and a flattering pair of workout shorts. Wait, should you wear lingerie? Was that too try-hard? You didn't really even need to wear underwear with these lined shorts, which could be a cool-girl move, you supposed. You settled on a cute white sports bra to go with the shorts, not wanting to deal with a real bra and hoping it still appealed to Jungkook's casual, athletic style. You checked yourself in the mirror briefly before grabbing your bag, confirming you looked chill enough but still felt like your best color-coordinated self. Heading out, you shoved a tin of chrysanthemum green tea in your water bottle pocket. Why not?

You whizzed over to Jungkook's apartment, yelling along to "Sex With Me" by Rihanna from your throwback playlist to hype you up in the car. When you knocked on his door after a nerve-wrackingly long elevator ride, Jungkook welcomed you with a "C'mon in!" amidst a mouthful of shrimp chips.

"It's not really dinnertime yet," (yeah, no kidding, you thought) "I went ahead and worked out but it's still kind of early, so I figured we could just have a snack and do the homework first."

"Sounds good," you affirmed. "I'm not really that hungry," (read: there's no way I can eat chips AGAIN right now, I'm going to bloat so badly) "but I brought tea so I can go ahead and make that if you want some too!"

"Oh cool, thanks!" Jungkook accepted. "Are you sure you're not hungry though?"

You almost gave into his sweet pout, but managed to convince him, and soon you both sat at the table with laptops open and twin cups of tea. You had a blast working together for the first time, acting out your "conversation" for the discussion board and pretending to respond spontaneously to each other's points like you hadn't already excitedly rambled back and forth through them in real life. You hit "send" five minutes apart, your idea to not seem too suspicious, and kept raving over Rear Window in between. As the sun lowered outside his living room window, you moved on to making the ramen.

After three offers to help Jungkook, all of which he denied, you simply made another steep of the tea, leaving a mug on the counter for him. Standing at the bar counter sipping yours, you enjoyed all the tiny, cute noises he made while chopping green onions and sprinkling extra garlic in the seasoning, like an anime character who came with his own sound effects. You could tell he made these recipe additions every time, because bulk quantities of the same simple ingredients lined the counters of his cozy kitchen. When he beat two eggs and dropped them into the pot, though, he couldn't seem to find a lid, and eventually settled on trapping the steam with a plate. You both waited on the egg for a silent moment, your foot bouncing under the bar while Jungkook restlessly acquired a slight wiggle. As he took a sip of his tea, a strand of hair fell over his eyes, and he yeeted it out of his face. Your inner language nerd cringed, but there really was no more apt word to describe the action.

You offhandedly said you liked his hair long, and he replied with a smile, "Maybe I'll have to keep it then."

"Do you like it too?" you wondered.

"Honestly no, it's kind of inconvenient."

"Oh, then why would you keep it?" you immediately asked back.

"Well..." he dragged out. "You like it? Maybe I should keep it if it looks better this way."

Your eyes crinkled appreciatively at his thoughtfulness, but then you backtracked. "Wait, no, it's okay! If you don't like it, don't feel like you have to keep it just because of something I said. You can do whatever you want."

"Hm, yeah." A demure smile tugged up the corner of his mouth as he lifted the plate from the ramen pot.

You watched him drag a chopstick through the floating, now-cooked egg to tear it into ribbons, then divide the noodles between two generously-sized bowls. He carefully wiped down the drips of broth from each bowl before sprinkling in his fresh toppings, then walked with you to the table.

Serving you with a pleased smile and a slight nod, he announced, "Dinner!"

"Wow," you mused playfully. "So gourmet."

"I'm really particular about my ramen," he admitted. "I have it down to a perfect routine at this point."

You took your first slurp of his particular, perfect ramen. "Well, it's really good. I'm impressed. And thanks for making me dinner, you didn't have to do all that."

"Oh, come on, it's instant ramen," he laughed. "Nothing special. And you brought the tea, so thanks. And thanks for coming over. And doing the homework with me. And...yeah." Rambling again. Why did he seem so...nervous? You were nervous. He couldn't be nervous. What reason did he have to be? But the twitch of his mouth under his wide eyes, his slightly reddened ears, his hand skittering over his neck—fuck—to ruffle his hair...every action turned another page of his open book. It felt infuriatingly unfair that genetics had assigned someone so sweet and shy and unsure of himself to that fucking body.

While you both ate and talked, you kept catching glimpses of any small flashes of skin you could find, as his long sleeves fell to expose his forearms and the wide neckline of his boxy black shirt gaped around his collarbones. What was wrong with you? Even if this did eventually turn into a dick appointment, the boy still had literally all of his clothes on. You tried to refocus on finishing your noodles, while your brain screamed at itself in shame that you could get this turned on by the sight of someone covered from neck to ankle.

Jungkook ate surprisingly slowly, probably because he kept pausing to excitedly explain his favorite things about the Cowboy Bebop episode you were about to watch together. You smiled into your tea through every out-of-context fun fact and "wait, sorry, that might have been a spoiler!"

Finally, he reached the bottom of his bowl and insisted on both taking your dishes to the sink and leaving them for him to clean later. "You sure you want to start on episode 2? Not 1?"

"Yeah, I remember well enough and your summary helped a lot too!"

"Okay, if you're positive!" he double-checked, grabbing the remote.

Gingerly lowering yourselves to the couch in sync, you avoided looking at each other as you both tried to calculate a comfortable distance between you. His hand looked ready to either hold yours or lower to your thigh, but he retracted at the last second, smoothing it over his own leg anxiously and still clearly itching to make a move. You shuffled closer to him until your thighs barely touched, and he shifted to slink an arm around you, letting your head rest on his well-muscled shoulder. After pressing “play”, he began wiggling slightly again, subconsciously grooving to the old-newspaper-style intro. Spike Spiegel appeared on the screen, his broad shoulders squared into a slouch as he listlessly watched TV. Jungkook kicked one leg over another and stretched his arms out symmetrically to echo the pose. Raising an eyebrow, he waited until you acknowledged him with a faux grimace and a hand to your ear, imitating the old man in a lab who’d just called up Spike for a new mission. You both burst into laughter and settled back into your former arrangement, Jungkook holding you imperceptibly tighter. Though you tried to stay staring straight ahead, wanting to genuinely appreciate the anime, you kept catching his doe eyes in the corner of your sight as you both giggled and gasped your way through the episode.

After avoiding eye contact too many times, you finally tilted your head for a cute sideways view of his face. He leaned toward you too, shyly closing the gap to touch his warm lips to your nose, then lower. You responded immediately, rolling your body with his so your chests met as he pulled you up into a full, deeper kiss. The longer you explored each other's mouths, the more Jungkook punctuated your movements with whimpers. He seemed hesitant to let his hands roam away from your face and neck, but his high, breathy moans made it clear that he was just as into this as you. Your hands had naturally found his taut waist, and at some point you started to bring them back up to his face too—but as your short nails grazed his chest, a particularly sensual, voice-cracking moan interrupted you. You drew back in slight surprise, blinking your eyes open to scan from his face to his body.

He followed your gaze, both slowly settling on the massive tent in his pants. You froze. Your breath grew heavier, confronted with evidence of his physical attraction to you, if nothing else. After regaining his composure, he laid a useless hand over his lap in a delicate attempt to distract you and brought his other hand up to tap your face lightly.

"Is this okay?"

His eyes glittered with equal parts hunger and concern.

"Yes!" you nodded, too quickly, too eagerly. "Yes, this is totally okay. Sorry if I'm being weird, I just...it's been a while." You cringed internally at your own words, but couldn't seem to avoid putting your foot further in your mouth. "I haven't really, like, hooked up like this before—like, I've had sex, but never really outside of a relationship. But don't worry, I get this is more your thing, and I'm totally down if you are. I just don't really know what I'm doing, and you clearly do."

Jungkook blinked at your admission, then his face twisted into something curious, inscrutable. Would he decide you weren't worth the potential for drama? His lips flattened out to a tight line, then pursed to speak, and you looked down at your lap, hoping he wasn't as embarrassed of you as you now were of yourself.

"Well, I've never had sex sober."

Your eyes flashed back up to his. A complex half-smirk offset the furrow in his brow as he exhaled in nervous relief. "So, I don't actually know what I'm doing here either."

You tried to delay your response as you processed the implications. "You mean..." You tilted your head for better eye contact, hoping to convey empathy but not pity while you silently contemplated how to proceed. "Never?"

"Yeah, I've always shown up to parties and the hookups just...happened. Nothing I didn't want, nothing bad like that, but always spontaneous. So I guess we're kind of meeting in the middle, because I've never really had to plan ahead for a situation like this and, uh, figure out what I want. Beyond, yknow, wanting to get laid in the moment, of course." Jungkook laughed off the end of his explanation, but the smile never quite hit his eyes.

"Well, okay, let's pause right there." You sighed. Something in his words didn't sit right with you. "What do you want? I want you to be sure about this, of course, but more than that, even—what do you like?"

"I..." he chuckled, sheepish, shaking his hair over his face again. "What, you want me to just tell you? Like, what I'm into?"

"Yeah," you shrugged, trying to project more confidence than you felt in hopes of encouraging him to keep opening up. "I want you to be able to communicate, I want you to be comfortable. And I want to know what you like, so I can make it as good for you as possible."

With your hands still laid flat on his chest, you felt his heart rate jump a tiny bit, and took the liberty of digging your nails in just slightly deeper. His breath caught him, and then he caught himself. "I don't know, I just want what you want."

Jungkook struggled to appear nonchalant as you rolled your eyes with an "Oh, come on," challenging his avoidance. Every instinct was telling him yes. He could hear his mind screaming at him to be intentional for once and let you take him, if not farther, then deeper than ever before. But he still hesitated, because being intentional in this case required him to be real. He had always been a fairly private person, but something about you made him feel so comfortable so fast that it counterintuitively made him more nervous. Of course Jungkook knew you weren't all innocent at this point, but the risk remained that you wouldn't really be down for everything he secretly wanted to explore. Even worse, though he didn't truly think you would, you could easily turn around and spin anything he revealed into yet another graphic rumor. Especially since you had no skin in the game yourself. He glanced down at your fingers, tensed into his chest, and narrowed his eyes.

"Why don't you tell me what you like first? And then I can tell you where we overlap," he grinned competitively. Your eyes widened as he tossed the challenge back your way. Not backing down, you flattened your hands and steeled yourself to settle the stakes.

"Fine—but only if you promise not to just go along with whatever I say. I'll let you know anything that's a hard no for me, but otherwise I want to hear at least one thing that's not on my list. I really do want what you want, that's how I am too, okay? So..." you paused to slide your fingertips over his collar and drag it down with a light scratch, now directly on his skin. You smiled with your eyes, enjoying the way he naturally responded with a hitch of his breath again. "Surely you can think of something specific."

He nodded quickly, before he could convince himself to back out. "Yeah. Promise."

"Okay," you confirmed, slightly nervous but determined to go through with this, for Jungkook's sake if anything. Seeing his body come alive with each new twist of the situation was building your curiosity, not to mention turning you on beyond belief. You could barely stand the warmth of his skin under your hands, so you drew them back to fold in your lap as you began. "So. Uh. To start. I've never really laid it all out like this either. I really like neck kisses? Like, a lot." Equally unused to this kind of directness, you wrung your hands together nervously, but sucked up the boldness to keep elaborating. "That's definitely, like, a big thing that turns me on...and then getting marked up and everything is really hot to me too. Like you can honestly go really rough with me on that, bite me even. I don't know if this is weird but even though it's annoying to cover up, I love taking off the makeup at the end of the day and seeing all the bruises on myself. Knowing I was walking around all day with that as my little secret." You swallowed shyly before continuing, but Jungkook interrupted the brief silence immediately with a hushed "Fuck."

You turned to face him fully and he didn't even move to meet your stare, eyeing the space above your sweatshirt's wide neckline like he was ready to devour you. Emboldened, your smile grew.

"So...yeah. I like being bitten, marked up. Mostly, uh," you rubbed a slightly trembling hand over your shoulder, "I'm just really into pain in general. Obviously not the bad 'I'm too dry and you're jackhammering me' kind of pain, or like, anal. Anal is a hard no. But things like biting, or hair pulling, or overstimulation. Or, like—I don't really know how to explain this, but...getting held too hard? That deep pain like when you get a massage when you're sore and it hurts but it's good, yknow?"

Jungkook looked like he was about to vibrate out of his skin, breathing shallow and rapid. His eyes flicked up to meet yours, just in time for you to whisper in conclusion:

"I love that feeling."

You suddenly looked away, reticent. A thick silence swelled between you, until he composed himself enough to punctuate it. "Okay. Yeah. Pain. So like, BDSM?"

"I mean, kind of? Sure? I don't have much experience with that and I don't really need the whole power dynamic aspect; I just like the, uh, physical pain. I wouldn't be opposed to trying further, but one thing I do know is I really don't like being degraded. And I'm not into the whole daddy kink thing either. I'm just not gonna call you that, sorry," you laughed, and fortunately he giggled too. "But I know that's not, like, necessary to the rest of BDSM, and the part about giving up control is still...interesting, for sure."

"Wait," Jungkook cocked his head, making a mental note of your last sentence before he went back to the previous one. "What do you mean, being degraded?"

You half-chuckled, half-cringed, never having needed to explain something like this, especially to a guy you hopefully were about to fuck. Cheers to better communication, you supposed.

"You know, how some people when they do dirty talk are like 'yeah, you little slut, you're such a whore.' I don't like being called any of that. Like it's fine that other people like it, there's nothing wrong with that, it's just really uncomfortable for me."

His brows knit together as you explained, and he shook his head so fast it almost looked cartoonish, like a little kid refusing vegetables. "Yeah, no. Don't worry, not really my thing either."

You sighed in relief. "That's nice. I feel like it's, like, weirdly common with guys. Maybe just the kind of thing people learn from porn."

"But you still like it rough, huh? Did you learn that...from porn?" he half-joked, trying to overcome both his shyness and his gritted-teeth arousal.

"No, I don’t like porn. Most of it’s really unethical. I learned from experience," you sassed back. "I don't have a whole lot, but enough to know what I like."

"Well. Hm." He worked his tongue over his teeth, poking one cheek out over his tensed jaw. You couldn't get enough of watching him grow fascinated by your every revelation, and you were preparing to keep pressing further when he beat you to it, posing a question. "Is there anything you haven't tried before, but really want to?"

Your face heated up instantly, tasting your own medicine. You looked back to your hands, breaking his intense eye contact to give yourself the courage to be even more uncomfortably honest. "I...I...um." Your first attempt at disclosing your fantasy came out as a squeak. Swallowing, you set your shoulders and tried again, selfishly reminding yourself Jungkook seemed so eager to please that this was 99% likely to get you exactly what you wanted. "I've always been, uh, really into the idea of, um, getting spanked. I've been, uh, too nervous to ever bring it up, before now obviously, but it's definitely one of the biggest kinks I've always wanted to try. Maybe being tied up too, I think I'd like it if I tried but I haven't thought about that as much. But, yeah...spanking, definitely."

"Fuuuuuuuuck."

A lengthened version of Jungkook's earlier under-breath exclamation made you peer up at him. Your thighs already pressed together from the tension of admitting something totally new, you found yourself needing even more friction just from the sight of Jungkook with his head thrown back on the couch, a veiny hand threaded in his hair to pull the long waves back from his forehead. The full reveal of his sharp eyebrows brought a whole new level of intensity to Jungkook's already beautifully carved features. He glanced over at you, then squeezed his eyes shut with a terse exhale. You couldn't place why, but you felt a deep attraction to the way he expertly restrained himself from acting on the lust written over his face—not under your control, but his own.

"Oh, fuck. What the fuck. How the fuck would you fucking know," he swore more in a single burst than he cumulatively had ever in your presence.

"What?" you toyed, heart rate still high but relaxed enough to enjoy agitating him. "Something ring a bell?"

Jungkook shuddered out a long breath, hand ruffling his hair as his other forearm still tried desperately to subdue his boner.

"Everything," he hissed, more willing to elaborate now that you had done the same, and especially now that he could tell you really did enjoy him being more assertive. "Shit. I...I want...I know you said not to just say this but I really do want everything you want. I can't wait to mark you up. I can't wait to hold you down and bruise your neck. I want it all, I want to make you hurt so good. And then—" Breathless. He looked almost embarrassed. "Then you had to go and somehow guess basically my biggest fucking kink, I can't fucking believe you." Both hands had come up to seize his long locks as he held himself back physically, while finally letting his guard down mentally to declare everything he intended to do to you. Letting out a short laugh, he finally met your eyes. "I wanna spank your ass bright red. Fuck. This is crazy. You're perfect."

Your core throbbed at every bold word. Leaning in close to him, you let your lips approach Jungkook's beautifully sculpted jawline as he panted, his chin tossed up to fully expose his neck. You stopped just short of his skin, in awe of how much you'd been able to work him up and still so tempted to take it to the next level. "Fuck," you echoed. "This is so hot," you murmured almost to yourself. Your eyes closing along with his, you dealt the final blow. "I love that we have so much in common. But come on, you promised. One thing that's not on my list."

Jungkook whined. You could tell he needed to touch you so badly, and no one was stopping him but himself. He had no way of knowing that if he cut the whole discussion and just took you, you wouldn't even try to resist at this point. Staring at his trembling mouth from below, you quickly averted your eyes when he opened his, pretending you hadn't been looking. He inhaled a short hiss, and then spoke.

"Okay..." He paused after just the first word, blowing air through the tiny "o" of his mouth as his eyes bugged slightly from nervousness. He couldn't resist a challenge, though, and his urge to please you overwhelmed his reluctance to peel back one more layer. "So, the pain thing. I think we, uh, feel the same about me giving and you receiving. But...I'm really into it for myself too. I don't know if you'd be comfortable with it, I know you maybe want me to be more dominant and I think I like that more too in general, but you can be as rough with me as you want back. I'd love that." Eyes still open but fluttering, Jungkook's tone grew breathier, heady as he confessed. You almost giggled at how bashfully he worded his desire to dominate you, to rough each other up, but the contrast was so hot you couldn't help sucking your bottom lip between your teeth, eager for him to continue. His voice lowered. "I love being scratched, marked, bitten...hit me, push me back, any kind of pain or any way you can hurt me, I want it." He shivered, but his voice firmed up even further. "I want it so bad."

You fought to stay motionless beside him, unable to even process how much more his honesty had turned you on. You felt helpless in your desire for him, your craving to give him everything he wanted and more. He noticed your charged stillness and shifted toward you, removing a hand from his hair to finally reach for your face. Threading his fingers through your hair instinctively like he had with his own, he tilted your head back to access your neck. Jungkook finally felt confident enough to tease you back as he skimmed his lips over your pulse point, tugging your skin between his teeth for a gentle first taste and grinning when you moaned. Seeing someone so satisfied, for reasons better than just his body or their pride, brought the most incredible rush of blood to his head. And his other head.

"And I get why you want it too," he finished with a whisper in your ear. "So trust me when I say I really, really want to give it to you."

In an instant, your hands yanked his hair down to bring his face up to yours, mouths crashing together. Feverish, restless, you kissed him, hastily attempting to straddle his thick thighs before he threw his body over yours and pinned you to the back of the couch. His hands wandered, intrepid, from your waist to a quick squeeze of your breasts before he spiraled you into his strong arms. Pressing your chest flush with his as your mouths meshed, he ground his hips into you shamelessly, enjoying the way you struggled beneath him to align your core with his rock-hard dick.

"Your room?" You rushed out the words.

Jungkook laughed a little, his tone half whine and half dare. "So we're done talking?"

"Come on," you pleaded back. He finally relented, pulling you up with him and dragging you across the living room and through his door, lips not leaving yours for a second. You backed him into the bed with your arms against his strong chest, and once he was sitting perched on the edge, you laid yourself horizontally over his thighs.

"What are you doing?" he murmured, curling a hand over the dip of your waist to hold you gently.

You angled your head back to make unsteady eye contact with him, flipping your shorts down boldly. His free hand automatically reached to slowly conform to the shape of your ass, so eager to touch you but tentative as he grazed your curves.

"Giving you exactly what you want."

"Fuck. Really? You're sure about this?" Jungkook held careful eye contact as you brought your arms back up, crossing your wrists over your head delicately. You nodded slightly and did your best to meet his gaze with confident invitation, convincing him how much you trusted and wanted him.

He smoothed his warm hand over your ass one more time, then brought it up and watched your thighs tighten at the loss of his touch. Breathing in, still a little shakily, he brought his hand down on your right cheek with a loud but mild smack. A grunt of satisfaction involuntarily left him when he saw your face flinch down into the sheets, subduing a small noise of surprise. He returned his hand to caress the light redness he'd left, checking in with you again. "Is this okay? Let me know if I should stop."

You replied with your face still tucked between your arms, muffled by the bed. "More than okay. Please don't stop."

He spanked you again, moving to your left cheek. This time you felt his dick twitch under you and couldn't help grinding down on him a little bit. "Is that as hard as you can go?" you taunted in low tones, brave enough to egg him on but not quite enough to meet his eyes again.

Jungkook's thighs and core tensed under you, and he squeezed his fingertips tighter, digging into the skin of your ass. "Not at all," he said simply.

Deep breath. A few seconds passed, and his hand came down, harshly. You cried out in shock, the timing unexpected and the sting far sharper, and he gave your other cheek a fourth hard smack before you could even process the third one. "Harder?" he tested. "Tell me."

Another spank. "Mmmf."

"You like this, huh?"

"Yes, I told you," you whimpered back, half-teasing even though you were in no position to do so. Immediately, he cut you off with a stinging hit across both cheeks, and you moaned.

"You really do," he breathed lowly. "Fuck yeah. Take it then."

He spanked you again, and again, then paused, tugging down your shorts all the way to your ankles to expose the crease right above your thighs. Rubbing your already sore bottom, Jungkook cupped the underside of its curve in his big, firm hand. Already anticipating your whine, he drew back his touch and hummed in harmony with you. He continued landing satisfyingly hard smacks, alternating to cover your ass evenly. His dick strained through his pants more and more each time you trembled under his touch. Never hitting you hard enough to do serious damage, he still clearly enjoyed his thorough reddening of your ass, and occasionally took a moment just to caress your skin as it warmed from the spanking. The pain lit your senses up from head to toe. Face burning with deep arousal, you mentally thanked yourself for going out of your comfort zone and unprecedentedly admitting your kinks before even venturing into your first time together. Amidst the thrilling sting of his hand meeting your soft curves, Jungkook eventually noticed your thighs clenching together, craving friction but not really wanting relief from the pleasurable burn.

"You're wet," he marveled, sliding two warm fingers up and down your slit.

"Mhm," you mumbled back as you tilted your hips into his hand. He gave you a light slap right on the folds between your legs, eliciting another soft moan.

"So good for me," Jungkook said softly, pulling you up into his lap by your waist. "You look so pretty like this. I wanna see all of you." He tugged your sweatshirt over your head, followed by your sports bra, thankful that it stretched over your head easily. Suddenly grinning, he wound up and shot it across the room like a rubber band, and you smacked his arm, giggling.

"What was that? You cheeseball," you teased, and he blinked, chuckling lightly back. It occurred to him that he'd never laughed, or made someone laugh, during sex before.

"It was so stretchy! Don't make fun of me," he blushed.

"You're so cute," you said, fingers sliding under his t-shirt hem.

"Cute?" His eyebrows rose in mock disbelief, and he reached around to land another hit to your still-red asscheek.

"Hot," you amended. Raising his shirt and finally getting a full glimpse of his enviable abs, you groaned. "You're extremely hot, and also really cute, and it's kind of ridiculous and I don't really know how to handle all of it at once."

His face scrunching up into a smile at the praise, he fell back onto the bed with his arms behind his head. "You are too, you know. Really cute, of course. But really hot too." As you discarded his shirt and moved on to easing his sweatpants down his hips, you held in a gasp as his erection sprung up from the waistband. He was big, thick, and painfully hard, his tip glistening warm with precum and a lone vein running prominently up his smooth shaft. Although you wouldn't be corroborating them, you had to admit to yourself that all the rumors were true. You instinctively curled a hand around it, barely covering half his length, and he winced at your slightest touch. Pulling off with a single slow stroke, you slid his sweatpants and briefs all the way to the floor and then stood, looking up from his legs to his blown-out eyes to take in the glorious sight of his fully naked body.

"You shave," you said, surprised by the clean skin under his arms and between his legs.

"Yeah," he demurred, self-conscious for some reason. He lowered his arms to fold them over his torso, somehow defining his biceps even more. "I'm on the dance team, and it's nice to feel all smooth for practice and stuff. I don't know, I just like it."

"Oh, that's cool! No worries, I like it too. And you don't mind that..." You looked down at yourself, still just standing naked in front of him. "...I don't? Like, down there at least."

"No, you do you!" he said quickly. With a shy smile, he admitted, "I actually kind of like it on you. I do this for me, anyway, not for anyone else," he playfully noted. Slowly, he was sitting up to take hold of your waist and lower you down to the bed with him. Pausing to kiss the sweet spot under your jaw, he continued. "So don't feel like you have to do anything, or not do anything, either."

Jungkook couldn't quite explain the nature of how his attraction to you had developed. Seeing how open and honest you were with him made it easy for him to be honest with you too, and just to feel comfortable being himself. He admired the way he could still tell you sometimes got nervous like him, but it didn’t stop you from getting real or going bolder. Unable to fully express it in words, he just hoped to ensure you felt as comfortable and respected around him as he did around you. He already knew that he wanted this to be more than just a one-time thing, and while he still hesitated to assume that you felt the same, he intended to leave no doubt by the end of the night.

You moaned as he nipped at the skin of your neck. It was so easy to get swept back up in Jungkook. You could barely handle the friction of his dick rutting against your wet folds from below, craving him inside you. "Ughhh. Wait, one more thing. I'm on the pill, are you clean?"

"Yes," he gasped, barely removing his mouth from your jaw. "Are you?"

"Yeah, so we don't need a condom. If that's cool with you!"

"Yeah! But, you're ready?" He seemed surprised.

"Aren't you?" you whined, beyond holding back. He felt so unbearably hard that his coherence and willpower kind of surprised you too. "Please, I want you so bad."

To your surprise, he lowered his head to the crest of your legs, dotting wet kisses down your torso. Keeping his big brown eyes on you, he teased your entrance with a finger and echoed your immediate groan at the welcome stretch.

"You really are ready," he remarked, awed at the ease with which your wetness sucked the digit in. Frankly, you were in awe as well. It had taken your ex-boyfriend months to figure out how to get you this worked up. Jungkook either had even more experience than you'd heard from the grapevine, or he was a natural. Or maybe you were just really, ridiculously, primally attracted to him. He went on to curve his finger in you and lick a messy swipe up your folds, sucking hard once he reached your sensitive clit. You cried out at the delicious burst of stimulation and he rose up to catch your lips with his.

"I had to do that, just once," he grinned breathlessly. "But—"

"Let me suck you off," you interjected, unbelievably fucking turned on and dying to please him.

"No," he gasped with far more fervency than you'd think anyone could refuse a blowjob. "Please, I was about to say—" he choked out a high-pitched moan as you ran a single finger up his shaft in anticipation, sinking the nails of your other hand into his thigh. "—I think I'm gonna explode if I don't get inside you right this second."

So he did have a breaking point. "Fuck," you muttered, bringing your legs around his to tuck your heels under his tight ass as he lined up. He eased his tip in, keeping heavy eyes on you the whole time, and you could feel the hot, thick tension in his thighs as he struggled to hold himself back from just thrusting into your heat. Slowly, he drew closer into you until he bottomed out with a low moan. You whined at the perfect slight pain of the stretch, and Jungkook squeezed his eyes shut, gripping you by your waist. Watching the veins in his forearms stand out as he drove almost all the way out and back into you, you rocked your hips carefully against his with each smooth stroke, getting used to his fullness. When his balls met your ass again, he shuddered a bit and opened his eyes into yours.

You answered his question before he could even ask it. "Jungkook—you feel so good. You can go faster, it's okay."

A smile hit his eyes before his mouth, and he kissed you once, pressing his chest to yours and intertwining your tongues eagerly. You bit his bottom lip as he slowly drew away, tugging it between your teeth to pull a sweet little whimper from his throat. Grinning, he leaned back in to touch his forehead to yours and simultaneously slid a subtle hand under your ass to curve your hips up with his. The slight leftover sensitivity of your skin amplified his light touch, and Jungkook seemed to realize this, curling his fingers to tease you with the tips of his nails. Instinctively, you ducked to bite his neck, not even registering your move to pass the pain back to him until he choked out a beautifully half-restrained moan and snapped his hips into yours. Gasping, you encouraged him to lose himself in you, dragging your lips up to latch around his earlobe. He hissed and thrust into you sharply again, meeting the time of your movements as you swirled your tongue between each of his hoop earrings. Soon he was pounding you rhythmically, finally letting you feel the full force of his strength but keeping remarkable control over both his body and yours. Both of you had gone silent except for your heavy breaths, lost in the moment, but the flexed shivers of his thighs and twitches of his fingers in your hair told you all you needed to know. Suddenly yanking your strands to pull you back from the additional bruise you'd sucked beneath his ear, he earned a new set of scratches on his back as your hands dragged down the muscular expanse in reply. Jungkook switched places with you to draw dark clouds from your skin, a storm brewing under your jaw. Your face fell into pure bliss, eyes shut and immersed in the barrage of sensation from his hands, mouth, and big dick filling you. Already feeling the familiar tension that preceded an orgasm building through your whole body, you chased him closer to his climax too, grinding back roughly into every thrust and raking your hands over every part of his firm body you could reach.

You had really been fooling yourself when you thought you could try something casual for once. You wanted more of Jungkook, all of Jungkook, nothing but Jungkook ever again. Knowing he'd never even gone back to the same hookup twice sank slight anxiety into your stomach, a kind of future nostalgia for this moment you already feared losing. You knew you weren't anything special compared to the catalogue of gorgeous girls he'd had his turn with, but a deviant voice whispered from the back of your mind that you could be, because it was clear none had bothered to learn him like this. You'd still try your desperate best not to want too much from him, but you resolved to do whatever you could to make him crave more.

Rolling your hips in a smooth circle against him, you clenched around his dick and your hands tightened their fierce hold on his tiny waist. You felt his abs tense within your grasp as he tried not to stutter into you.

"Fuck. No." His voice cracked, but held an undertone of ferocity. "You come first." Jungkook rushed a hand to your clit, adding pressure in small, deft motions with a fingertip as he kept fucking you deep. You sank your teeth into his shoulder in response, drawing your hands up his back to clutch him closer to you, and Jungkook cried out. You left your mouth on his golden skin to stifle your moans as he sped up his fingers, and he tried to let you stay there but eventually couldn't help pulling you off him to see your face. Eyes narrowed and eyebrows turning up sharp at the ends, he watched you like a hawk to track the exact moment when he pushed you over the edge. Your face crumpled and you felt your whole body burn under his gaze as you came, squeezing around him in waves of pleasure while he fucked you through your high, unrelenting. Drinking up the bliss obvious on your features, Jungkook's eyes never left yours and his expression grew more and more fucked out. You marveled at how even as you lost control and energy to fuck him back, your body freezing in orgasm seemed to turn him on further. One last pulse of the tension leaving your core made his dick throb inside you, and you impulsively broke your eye contact to lean in and bite down slow but hard on his neck again. He gasped.

"You're amazing." Murmuring into his skin, you kissed the bite marks gently. Jungkook whimpered at the sweet contradiction and lurched into your hips even harder. You recovered to move with him, squeezing him deeper into you every time he bottomed out, and as his breathless moans escalated in pitch, his whole body shivered with each stroke. Pressing wet, heavy kisses all over his neck, you felt his jaw flutter while his lips hung open. His considerable strength spent, Jungkook shuddered one last hard thrust into you and finally let go, coating your walls from within. His hips lightly rocked against yours as he stayed deep inside you, still hard and savoring the euphoric release he'd held back for so long. You felt so incredibly warm and comfortable around his sensitive dick, relaxed but still holding him tight, and he couldn't help holding you up for a languid kiss before pulling out of you smoothly.

He briefly looked into your eyes, and you saw stars. The sun had continued to set outside, and it peeked between the blinds of his window to wrap you both in a warm, slivered glow. Staring down at his hands on your body, Jungkook took a deep breath and collapsed to your side, holding you close. You settled into him, cupping a hand over his head on your chest. With your fingers laced through his sweaty hair, you stroked his temple with your thumb, worrying for a second whether the gesture seemed too intimate but forgetting your fear when he snuggled up into your touch. You felt the need to say something, to figure out what the fuck was next after this, but stayed silent, not wanting to disturb the comforting weight of his frame. Heartbeat still racing, Jungkook stretched out to breathe a long sigh. As he sank back into you, you stretched under him too, letting his solid, warm body drape over you like a blanket. This couldn't be farther from what you'd expected with him, but you weren't about to make it stop. Surely, eventually, he would.

A minute passed. And then five. And then, before either of you could talk yourselves out of it, you were asleep, intertwined.

#jungkook x reader #jungkook smut #jungkook fluff #jungkook x reader smut #bts smut #bts fic #bts fanfic #college!jungkook #college au!jungkook #bts college au #jungkook #jeon jungkook #bts jungkook #my writing #fic: anti-hero #anti-hero #anti hero

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mrvdocks · 4 years

Text

Nightcall P.1

Request/Summary: Kurt is obsessive over a model and kidnaps her, taking her along for the ride of the night.

After

The flurry of phones ringing off the hook and background noise felt foreign to you, it was just a buzzing in your ear. You pulled the safety blanket around you closer, grabbing it in fistfuls. You don’t know how long you’ve been here, but it feels like hours. The fluorescent in the room probably only made you look even worse for wear than you were hours before, but it didn’t matter now. In a span of 24 hours, your life had changed.

The guarded door opened and an officer pulled up a chair in front of you, dropping photos of the gruesome scene you’d seen firsthand. She slides the photos closer, her thumb obscuring the killer’s face. You didn’t need to see it a second time.

“You were found in the residence of Mr. Kunkle, with one Jessie Adams and a John Doe, who seems to have been the victim of Mr. Kunkle’s spree amongst others.”

Even his name brings chills down your spine.

“I already told the police everything.” You say groggily, your throat still sore from the whole ordeal.

“Yes, but there seems to be some doubt on your partnership with Mr. Kunkle. Footage, eyewitness accounts,” she’s studying you no doubt. Any sort of tick or movement you made without thought that could somehow lead her to think you were lying about anything you had explained earlier.

“What was your relationship with Mr. Kunkle?” She pries, bringing multiple photos of Kurt to be splayed out in front of you. Some good, some bad, some….disturbing.

“I - none. He just knew me through the socials.”

“And you were also the target of his mania.” There’s something unsettling in how much she’s liking interrogating you. You ignore it.

“You think it’s my fault he did this.”

It was not your fault. None of this was. Kurt was just too power hungry. Maybe you were too trusting. You didn’t want to see Kurt for what he really was until it was too late.

“I’m not saying it’s your fault, but your compliance does seem suspicious.”

“I-I didn’t know him very well. He was just my Spree driver for a day. But he was always nice to me.”

“He was also your kidnapper.”

“Like I said, he was a nice guy.” Your voice breaks.

They’re all nice guys until they aren’t.

“And you didn’t think to call the authorities when you were alone? Were you helping him lure these people?”

You can feel her eyes burning into you.

“I’m not stupid,” you cry. “I know how this sounds. But I’m telling you, he gave me a ride and then he - all of this. Oh God.”

You bring your shaky hands to run through your worn and tired face, specks of dried blood still prominent even through many washes with soap. It’s another way Kurt managed to stay with you.

“Let’s start at the beginning,” she sits back with her arms folded. “And spare no detail.”

Before

He scrolls through your feed for the millionth time today.

Photos of you on your daily walks, exploring hidden LA gems, posting places you were shooting at, people you were hanging out with, all at the touch of a button for him. The bell notification alerts him, telling him that you’ve posted. He taps the screen in the blink of an eye, meeting your face as you giggle about falling while skating.

You pout as you show the damage, remarking that it was lucky you weren’t shooting that day otherwise you would’ve had to cover up on such a hot day.

In a vain industry, you try to keep yourself humble and that’s what he loves about you. Though he’s never met you, he thinks you could live up to the image he’s created of you. One that matches your optimistic and humorous one.

He re watches your story, pausing at random moments where he screenshots and saves to his photos. His home screen is a shot of you in black and white, seemingly topless from chest down and looking back with an enticing smile. He loves the way your hair frames your face, the way pieces of it were meticulously picked out to give it a sort of messy look.

You could make anything look good, he thinks.

Bobby gives him a hard time about you, bragging about how he knows you and that although you’re more well known than he is, you are the one who should be grateful for his exposure.

Kurt thinks it’s bullshit but he wouldn’t be surprised if it were true, maybe you’d come around to meet him one day.

The vibration of a text brings him out of his daze, seeing Bobby’s name in big bold letters.

He can’t believe his eyes when he opens the text. It’s an off guard video of you behind Bobby, giggling at something on your phone before noticing that he’s recording and flashing a cheeky smile and a peace sign.

“Found your girlfriend.” Bobby mocks before erupting into hysterical laughter.

Kurt replays it until his phone dies, Bobby’s words echoing in his head.

An idea pops into his head, it would be difficult if he didn’t know your exact routine but thanks to your fan accounts and the power of gossip blogs, it’s a definite success.

He calls Bobby immediately, hearing him and his entourage in the background as they talked about a video idea.

“What do you want, Kurt? I’m busy right now.” His annoyance is clear but Kurt is way too focused on you to notice.

“I need a favor.”

It’s amazing what the internet contains about a person. It’s also quite terrifying. Through just a few minutes of research, he’s found out your schedule along with where you went to school, where you live and your closest friends.

In a photo Bobby had taken, the location of the next shoot you had taking place somewhere was barely visible.

He connects the dots, thinking about how your involvement could help him get #TheLesson out and make him a household name.

And it’s exactly what he does the day of. He parks near your neighborhood, foot bouncing and anxiously looking at his phone. He declines the others in hopes of finding you according to the schedule. You almost never use your real name on anything when going out but he recognizes your fake name and location, he puts the car into drive and talks himself up.

He parks across the street, giving him a better view of you.

His heart skitters when he sees you look in his direction, your brows quirk up as you give him an easy smile and cross carefully.

You stop and bend to meet him at the passenger window, “Kurt, right?”

His name coming out of your mouth is something he’s dreamed of since he first saw you. He almost pinches himself to know if this is real.

He knows he’s grinning like an idiot because you laugh at his speechlessness.

“Sorry,” he motions to the backseat, “Hop in!”

“I take it you know who I am.”

You’re not oblivious to your recognition, but with some guys it was just always a hit or miss. They either wanted you to take your top off or asked for some weird things.

“Are you kidding? I’m like your biggest fan.” He beams, going back on the road.

You’re not good at accepting compliments, so all you can manage is a shy smile and a, “Thanks!”

You notice his set up of cameras and ask him about it, to which he says they’re just for protection. Throughout the ride you learn more about him, particularly that he was going something the next day called The Lesson. He had a very particular view about this digital world you both lived in, talking about these odd jobs he’d been doing along with trying to build up his following. In between talking about himself, he mentions Bobby and the events of last night from the video.

“Oh right, Bobby.” You roll your eyes at the mention of his name.

Bobby was a pain in your ass sometimes, acting all high and mighty all the time and just like he was the overall shit.

“Yeah he’s alright. He could just tone it down a little.”

“Oh yeah - definitely, he was the same when he was a kid. Just pure chaotic energy.”

“That’s one way to put it.”

In between other conversations, Kurt brought back the spotlight to you, asking you about different people you hung out with. It was pleasant conversation, you felt like you were talking to an old friend and letting off some steam. The red flags hadn’t gone off just yet.

To let loose and make you live a little, Kurt races past a red light and nearly misses being in a collision.

It startles you but he assures you there’s no danger.

“You trust me right?” He asks, glancing back to you.

“I mean, yeah.”

The confirmation is validation to him. It’s all he needed to begin.

He picks up another passenger, an older man who definitely did not hide the way he was staring at your body. You’re thankful for sitting a little father from him but when Kurt initiates conversation with him, everything goes downhill.

“I know you from somewhere.” The man points out, his obvious staring makes you cringe as you stay silent.

“You’re that model, I’ve seen your stuff around Westwood. Bangin’ body.”

You can feel the anger in your chest rise as Kurt finally notices.

“What’s going on?” He glances to the back, meeting your shifting eyes.

The man ignores him. “Sweetheart when someone compliments you, the nice thing to do is smile.”

That did it.

“Excuse me? I don’t owe you shit!” You grit.

“Whoa! Whoa! Sir you can’t be saying that anymore.” Kurt changes lanes, ready to stop if the situation gets worse.

“She should be proud she doesn’t look like her people. All of ‘em just fat and lazy.”

“Excuse me?! My people?” You’re sure you don’t look the least bit intimidating but it doesn’t matter. You were willing to kick this man’s ass if need be.

Kurt pulls off the the side of the road, “Alright, get out.”

“What? No, I paid for this ride fair and square. I’m not leaving for shit. I can say what I want.” He says adamantly.

“Sir if you make those comments again I’m going to have to cancel the Spree.”

Something clicks in Kurt’s head as he remembers the water bottles.

He motions for you to take the passenger seat which you do without much hesitation.

Kurt waits a minute before merging again, glancing at the man every so often and taking more desolate streets. You don’t notice the absence of cars and you definitely don’t notice when the man takes a bottle and practically chugs it.

Kurt smirks as he slows down. “Hey maybe you should let them know you’re not going to make it.”

Confused, you glance at Kurt and then at the man who’s now starting to grab at his throat and coughing violently.

Your eyes widen as you attempt to get Kurt to stop the car but he doesn’t move, instead he keeps his eyes trained on the road.

“Kurt, stop the car.”

The man’s coughs get worse by the second and he turns a very bright red.

“Kurt! Stop the car!”

You’re frozen, helpless to watch the man as he tries to grab at Kurt from behind but coughs up blood and passes out in the backseat. You slink back in your seat, utterly terrified of what just happened.

Adrenaline and fear course through you. You side eye Kurt who is not as affected by this as you are as he merely readjusts his camera.

You begin to hyperventilate and try the passenger door. When it doesn’t budge you shut your eyes and cry.

“I won’t say anything. I won’t I promise. I promise, Kurt. Please.”

Kurt sighs as he retrieves a piece of cloth from his pocket. Your eyes widen as he comes close and pins you in your seat and smothers you with the cloth. You struggle under him, pushing against his chest to no avail.

The smell of the chloroform inundates your senses and in a matter of seconds you feel your eyes roll back and everything go black.

Once you’re knocked out, Kurt takes both your phone and the other passengers to knock suspicion off of him. He has plans for the racist prick in the back, but for you, he has much bigger plans.

#kurt kunkle #kurt kunkle x reader #spree #haha i'm not dead just suffering from writers block

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desidarling123 · 3 years

Text

FATWS Episode 4: A Definitive* Rank Ordering of Most Interesting Character Arcs, from Yours Truly

(*And by definitive I mean completely subjective, but yanno.)

IF YOU HAVEN'T FIGURED IT OUT BY NOW: MAJOR SPOILERS FOR FATWS. SCROLL AWAY NOW IF YOU DON'T WANT EM.

Now let's get into it:

1. John Walker

Let me start by saying -- the near-universal John Walker hate from fandom has always been largely undeserved, and that's a hill I'll die on. It comes out of, I think, a visceral sort of need to slot him into an easily understood black-or-white binary when, truthfully, he is neither, and I think this episode was the BEST example of that. The sheer range he exhibits in such a short time -- a handful of character moments and action sequences in the larger fifty minute episode -- serve to humanize him in a way that's messy and intense and very, very real.

Because MAN. Whether you were already sympathetic to John's plight or not, the death of his partner, Lemar Hoskins, is viscerally disturbing. There's no other way to put it. FATWS has not shied away from some pretty crazy onscreen kills, but this one was arguably the worst in how brutally mundane it was. Lemar was in the wrong place at the wrong time -- a man fighting amongst a whole room of super soldiers. He never stood a chance -- and yet, he still jumped in harm's way to save his best friend, a man in whom he saw indisputable goodness, even when the man could not see it himself. There's an obvious Steve/Bucky parallel here, but with a much darker and more realistic twist -- not all of us, after all, can be lucky enough to receive super strength that could save our lives. Lemar was always a regular mortal -- and for that transgression, he pays the ultimate price.

And then. What happens after. Oh. My. God. I felt Walker's rage and hopelessness through the screen. The death of that Flag Smasher -- at the hands of Captain America, no less, a man he'd admitted to admiring as a child not ten minutes earlier -- was brilliantly executed.

With the final shot of the townspeople recording the brutal murder it becomes overwhelmingly clear -- we are witnessing the tragic fall of a man who was, for all his previous missteps, trying to be a hero. But John's moral compass just died a meaningless, horrible death -- and without him by his side, Walker has become a man unhinged.

2. Bucky Barnes and Ayo

I debated putting this one at number two because I'd argue there were some weird elements to the writing choices made (more on that in a sec), but, nevertheless. Bucky and Ayo get slot #2.

That flashback to Wakanda got me excited, but I didn't expect my heart to get shattered almost right away. Oh. My. God. His interactions with Ayo BROKE ME. There's so much nuance in a scene that’s incredibly well-acted by both Sebastian and Florence — you see both of them in a moment that is incredibly pivotal for the former’s character, and we see the latter reacting with sympathy, strength, and enormous grace. I had expected a scene like this to be with Shuri (given that we last saw her with Bucky in the post credits of Black Panther) but, given the context of what was being performed (a final test of the trigger words) having Ayo there made a lot of sense. She could take him down if need be — but as the scene so wonderfully shows, thankfully, she doesn’t have to. Instead, she’s there to let him know that for the first time in almost a century, he’s free again.

Now, let’s get into some of the unevenness. I had hoped, at the end of the last episode, that Bucky had at least informed the Dora Milaje of his liaison with Zemo — that, perhaps, it had been Bucky’s intent to hand him over all along. Alas, that was not the case — Bucky, it seems, had broken Zemo out with little thought to — or perhaps simply silent acceptance of — the consequences that would come with it.

This is the part, again, where the writing felt a bit weak. We know from the opening shots of the episode that Bucky cares enormously for Ayo — they’re not simply soldiers in arms, but they’ve shared a moment of immense vulnerability together. We ALSO know that he cares enormously for T’Challa, for Shuri, and for Wakanda as a country (see Infinity War, where he says “I love this place” in reference to his new home).

So that begs the question — why? Why did he betray them in that way, besides sheer desperation for a lead? And it’s not one, I’d argue, that we are given a satisfying answer to. Bucky has been reckless to an alarming degree in the last few episodes, but not informing Wakanda of his intention to liaise with the man who killed their king feels like a MAJOR tactical oversight. Is he willing to burn everything down to win this battle against the Flag Smashers? Are these his self destructive tendencies kicking in? OR, is he just truly so blinded by his emotions surrounding his past that he’s willing to throw away what could very well be his future? Only time will tell. But I hope he’ll do right by Ayo and Wakanda, as he clearly has a LOT to make up for.

3. Baron Helmut Zemo

God. I love Zemo’s psychotic, problematic ass. Say what you want, but the man is the most efficient of them all and he isn't a super soldier or an Avenger. Over and over, he shows that he's truly smarter than them and always has been.

He doesn't get personal. He doesn’t get distracted. He knows exactly what his goal is, and he executes on it. Mans didn’t hesitate to unload several bullets into Karli, and as soon as he figured out what the vials were, he destroyed all except one. Like I said, the most efficient person on the team. Has arguably done more to forward the cause against the Flag Smashers/continued existence of super soldiers than anyone else and it’s only been a few days. Between that, his god-awful dancing skills and him shooting the eugenicist scientist without so much as a blink of an eye, I think he's a man after my own heart. I’m almost sad to see him get what’s coming for him come next episode. (Because y’all, he did still kill King T’Chaka, and there’s no way the Dora leave here without taking him out on a silver platter and an apple stuffed in his mouth). But again, let’s see how that pans out.

4. Sam Wilson

WHAT are the writers doing to Sam, I swear to God? We didn't get too much introspection into where his head's at during this episode, and when we did the treatment felt uneven at best. I think, in trying to have him create a rapport with Karli, the writers have created some areas of commonality that didn’t always translate as they’d like. It was also weird to see Sam swinging from the well-earned cynicism of the previous two episodes to the sort of wide-eyed optimism Steve used to portray. Perhaps that was simply to try and show Karli an alternative, but as the episode showed, she clearly wasn't buying (though, in Sam’s defense, he came pretty close).

Something about Sam’s characterization in this episode didn’t really do it for me — I would argue episode one and two were both stronger in that regard. Nevertheless, I’m hopeful that they’ll correct it in the next one.

5. Karli Morgenthau

Her treatment is arguably the worst of them all. She is young, yeah, but she oscillates at an alarming rate between spouting class discourse that, by this episode, feels largely derivative (like someone scrolled on Twitter and put a bunch of keywords together in hopes of evoking an emotional audience response) and homicidal tendencies that show a brutal yet fundamentally messy underpinning. Unlike Zemo, she is still too easily confounded, and that will come to bite her in the ass sooner rather than later. (See: The Power Broker)

Perhaps I'm meant to be rooting for her on some degree but I really can't -- she's cruel and sloppy, which I cannot forgive.

Oh, and she killed Lemar Hoskins and threatened Sarah Wilson. Yikes.

Overall Episode Takeaway: A lot of shocking moments and great acting beats for everyone involved (arguably some of the best of the series thus far), but the weakness of the writing does crop up in parts. Whether they'll be corrected for going forward is to be determined...

UP NEXT: Meta pieces for Sam, Bucky, John, and Zemo all in the works!

#fatws #tfatws #sam wilson #bucky barnes #john walker #fatws spoilers #tfatws spoilers #tfatws meta #karli morgenthau

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haikyuuwaifu · 4 years

Text

Daddy Issues

Genre: Drama, Crack, Fluff, NSFW

Warning: Swearing

Iwazumi x Reader

Masterlist

Accusations| The Press Conference

The Press Conference

Stepping out of the car, Y/N followed as the security team ushered her inside the building. Pulling her shades off and her mask down, she let out a huff as she looked around to see all the Press sitting with their backs facing her. Making her way to the back of the stage she tackled Osamu as soon as she saw him.

“How are you holding up sweetie?” he asked stroking her cheek softly. “I’m fine Samu, really Tsukishima is trash and I’d just like to say my side and leave.” she grinned snuggling closely. Placing a kiss on her forehead he moved around her to greet the press behind the screen. Kuroo stepped up to Y/N eyes squinted in suspicion. “Whatever it is you’re going to do, don’t tell me about it. All I know is that you’re going to be getting on a plane and that’s all I need to know.” he murmured pulling her into a hug. “I’ll join you when I can, but for now you and Kenma take care of each other.” He whispered kissing her cheek softly before releasing her and joining Osamu on the other side.

Minutes later Y/N hear Ushijima speaking and stood up. Feeling a hand squeeze her shoulder she turned around to see who it was. Luckily it was Kenma. “Do this and as soon as it’s done we’ll leave.” he mumbled pulling her into a hug and giving a good squeeze. Inhaling a breath, Y/N exhaled loudly as she heard her name being called forward.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

On the other side of they city a house of men sat in front of the TV waiting to watch the press conference. Tooru, aware of Y/N’s plan had opted to stay home in order to utilize plausible deniability when Ushijima found out what she was going to do. He knew that Y/N made sure to buy him the biggest fruit basket she could get her hands on.

Next to him Iwazumi scrolled through his phone, eyes flitting over articles and ignoring the incoming texts from Himiko. With a loud ‘shhh’ next to him, Iwazumi turned towards the tv to watch the press conference.

*Television Viewing*

Y/N: “Good Evening everyone and thank you for taking the time to be here. I really appreciate you taking the time to listen to my side of the allegations against me.” she stated smiling sweetly. Something about that smile made Iwa put his phone down and completely absorb himself in the press conference. There was almost something feral in that smile, like she had something planned.

Reporter 1: “Ms. L/N are ANY of those allegations true?” one of the reporters asked. She seemed to be shaking as she held the recorder close to the stand. He watched in silent awe as she stepped forward to cup the reporters hand and steady it.

Y/N: “What is true, is the fact that Tsukishima-san and I did have a sexual relationship previously. What isn’t true are the things he said about me wanting to be in a romantic relationship with him.” she declared confidently arms crossed.

Reporter 2: “Then what really happened? What’s your side of the story?” The second reporter asked. Iwa leaned in close wanting to hear the words fall from what looked like soft lips. Tooru next to him caught his friends movements and smirked. The next 6 months were going to be fun for him.

Y/N: “We made the agreement that we would strike up a strictly sexual relationship. It can be hard to find a partner with the jobs we had. Things were fine in the beginning...but he started getting possessive and jealous when I would go to premiers or parties with my friends. Friends mind you, that I’ve known since before I became a model.” she stated nodding at another raised hand.

Reporter 3: “Then why the lie?” They asked tapping their pen against their note pad. “Why go through all the trouble of making up the lie?”

Y/N: “We had gotten into an argument at the end of an event that I had attended with my best friend Kenma Kozume. Someone at the event overheard what our argument was about and immediately went to TTT to gossip about it. The only logical explanation I can think of is that Tsukishima-san wanted to save face. He...doesn’t go for women like me and he didn’t ever want to be seen in public with me, but he can’t control my actions or who I spend time with. He’s not my boyfriend after all.” she declared winking into the camera.

Reporter 1: “So what will you do if he doesn’t retract the statement?” Iwazumi watched as the soft smile she had turned into a full blown grin. He didn’t miss the way Tooru clenched his arm next to him. He nudged him slightly in question, but all Tooru did was shake his head and point towards the TV.

Y/N: “Funny you should ask, because I know he isn’t going to retract his statement. He wants to save face.” she stated shrugging her shoulders. “And that’s fine, but I don’t take to well to people slandering me for something I didn’t do.” she stated grinning now.

And Iwazumi watched, as Y/N waved her hand and a whole bunch of papers fell from the ceiling like confetti onto the press below. Next to him Oikawa was cackling like a mad woman as Atsumu hit him. “What the hell are all those papers?!” he asked trying to get Tooru to stop laughing. Between giggles, Tooru spoke; “They’re copies of the texts he sent! The ones talking about how he couldn’t be seen in public with her.” Tooru was wheezing now. “And...and pictures of his dick!” and this point the other men in the living room lost all semblance of control and laughed as well.

And all Hajime could do was shake his head. Who the fuck was Y/N and where did she get the balls to do something like that? He thought as he chuckled softly.

-Y/N got Tsukishima’s ASS for trying to lie on her. Nu Uh. Girl DO NOT PLAY.

-After deciding to out him entirely, she and Kenma agreed that a break out of Japan would be good for her, so they’re on the way to America for the next 6 months. It’ll be good for her to step away for a bit.

-Iwazumi spent the rest of the night thinking about Y/N. He even internet searched her and found out literally everything he could find. Mans is now an official #YNSTAN

-Ushijima was not pleased with what Y/N did, but as her friend he was impressed with her level of petty. Osamu and Kuroo couldn’t even be mad about it. Her happiness came above all else.

-Tsukishima on the other hand is PISSED. Every platform talked about his dick for weeks. LMAO.

@dabilove27 @lia-faerie-queen @bbymilkbread@elianetsantana

#iwazumi scenarios #iwazumi imagines #iwazumi x reader #iwazumi hajime #haikyuu imagines #haikyuu #haikyuu concepts #haikyuu smau #smau

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maybedefinitely404 · 4 years

Text

The Boy who Sings Next Door, Pt 1

Genre: just-out-of-college AU

Pairings: Pre-romantic/romantic Prinxiety, pre-romantic Logicality

Content: general anxiety/allusions to past panic attacks, (it’s Virgil, c’mon), food mentions, a lil yappy puppy, Hamilton songs (it’s Roman, c’mon), just the boys being super gay.

Word count: 2.6k

Comments: I’ve been in a bit of a funk (not the good kind of funk) recently, and this is the only thing I’ve been able to churn out during it. It will have a part two, don’t worry. Gotta get that good Prinxiety content.

Comments (the sequel): This took almost a week to write due to said funk, so I apologize for any inconsistency that appears. I have edited this as much as my brain let me, so it should be good.

Virgil hadn’t lived there for long. In fact, it was just nearing the one month anniversary of the day his two roommates and him had moved into the townhouse complex on the grungier side of town. They were still getting to know the house; the basement Virgil swore was haunted, the crudely attached cabinets that Patton very nearly pulled down every time the shorter man had to climb the counter to reach the top shelf, and especially the upstairs bathroom’s shower that would become scalding hot if someone flushed a toilet while it was running. Janus’ shriek was something Virgil wished he could have recorded on camera.

Meeting his new neighbours was still a fear he had to get over. Patton had already introduced himself to all of them (on the first day living there, with cookies, nonetheless), and was eagerly awaiting the day when Virgil would give the ‘okay’ to invite some of them over for dinner. He was especially excited about the man who lived to their left, a professor at the university across town that Patton claimed he had clicked with.

“A professor? How old is he?”

“He looked like he was our age!”

“A professor who’s twenty two?”

“Well… maybe he’s really smart! Or has a great skincare routine!”

Despite Patton’s obvious infatuations with the guy, Virgil was hesitant to meet him. He’d already had a less than promising accidental run in with the old man living on their right, incited by Janus parking in the wrong spot and poor Virgil being the one to open the door to the screaming neighbor. It had taken him twenty minutes to calm down from that panic attack. But after too many rounds of Patton’s puppy eyes, Virgil gave in.

“Only the one guy though, and I get to have a code word in case I need to leave.”

“Okay! What’s the code word?”

“I don’t know. You pick.”

“Tiddylicious?”

“SHUT THE HELL UP, JANUS!”

Surprisingly, Virgil didn’t have to use the code word (which was not tiddylicious). Logan was a pretty great guy, if slightly lacking in the ‘emoting’ department. Patton and him got on like fire in a library, and his roommates happy wiggles the whole night was probably what gave the anxious man the bravado to stick through it. Janus even had the decency to make some honest conversation, which was a first for him. Logan eventually mentioned the fact that he had a dog, and the conversation immediately derailed into Patton squealing over the pictures he showed him. They took this as the opportunity to sneak away from the two, giving them the space they obviously needed. Gross.

There was a line stretching across Logan’s backyard; a red cable that connected to his deck and reached to the fence on the opposite side. From this cord hung a pink leash, and to this pink leash, Logan attached his dog several times a day. Virgil didn’t know what the signal was for them, but every couple of hours, the sliding door would screech open and the dog would run to the gate closing off the porch, waiting impatiently until Logan clipped on the leash and let it run onto the lawn. The first time the small dog saw Virgil on his phone in the shade of his roof, it immediately took this as a grave act of terrorism and began to yap so loud that Virgil screamed. Logan quickly came back out, explaining that while his pup may have the intimidation factor of a stuffed animal, she thought all the grass of her yard and of the adjoining houses was hers to protect, even if the terrier was just about the size of a decent Thanksgiving turkey. A few head scratches later, and the two decently bonded, enough that she wouldn’t throw a hissy fit every time he sat on his porch.

That’s where he was now, half asleep in a lawn chair with one earbud in, when the tell tale squeak of Logan’s sliding door startled him from his rest. He reached up lazily and popped out his music, smiling slightly at the prospect of another conversation with Logan. Despite their age difference (it wasn’t all that much, but just enough that he got confused stares from the elder when he mentioned the prospect of ‘stealing someone’s kneecaps’), they were starting to become good friends. His hand froze, however, as he heard a voice that was very much not Logan’s coming from the man’s deck.

“Dear Alexander,

I am slow to anger,

But I, tow the line,

As I reckon with the offense of your,

Life on mine.”

And if Virgil said he didn’t immediately feel butterflies at the soft lilting of the deep voice, he would be lying. He shrunk back into his shirt, hoping the other wouldn’t glance over the short bush between them and see his blushing face. Even if he wasn’t infatuated with whoever was letting Logan’s dog out, it wasn’t like him to try and meet someone new.

The screen door shut with a loud whap and the dog pulled at the red cord as hard as she possibly could, trying to get free pets from Virgil. He obliged, but made sure to duck back to his side as soon as the door reopened.

“Raise a glass to freedom,

Something they can never take away,

No matter what they tell you.”

He lurched back into his own house at the sound of that gorgeous voice, slamming the sliding door and consequently scaring the hell out of Patton.

“Sorry,” he said quickly, scrubbing a hand over his face.

“What’s gotten you in such a hullabaloo?” Patton squinted from his table of crafting supplies, where it looked like he was putting together more pages for his scrapbook.

“I’m gay.”

“Ah,” The older man scrunched his eyebrows together, setting down his glue stick, “For Logan…?”

“No! Logan’s yours, don’t worry,” he ignored Patton’s indignant spluttering and blushing, satisfied that he wasn’t the only disaster gay in the room now, “Someone else is at his house.”

“Someone cute?” He was suddenly very interested in his book, trying to hide his red cheeks.

“I don��t know.”

“Then why are you in gay mode?”

“His voice.”

“His voice?”

“Quit laughing at me!” Virgil snarled non aggressively, refusing to meet Patton’s bright eyes.

“I’m not, I swear!” Patton giggled nonetheless, “It’s cute! I’ll have to hear it for myself sometime.” Virgil huffed, despite his growing smile, and went to his room, too overwhelmed to wait outside for the voice again, no matter how much his heart wanted to.

A couple days later, Patton showed up in his open doorway (it was his attempt to be less antisocial, and it made his housemates happy) grinning like a child who’d just gotten a puppy.

“I just talked to Logan-”

“Oh?” Virgil smirked, closing his laptop in favor of tea.

“Oh, shush. He just said during the summer, he has these fancy shmancy teaching seminars every weekend just out of town.”

“So?”

“Sooo…” Patton wiggled a little, sticking his tongue between his teeth, “When he’s not home, his brother watches Gremmy!”

“Gremmy?”

“How do you not know the puppy’s name? And also, you’re focusing on the wrong part of the sentence! His brother is going to be there every weekend, all summer!”

Virgil tried to digest the butterflies that exploded in his gut, failing to hide his reappearing blush. “So? We don’t even know if he’s our age, or if he’s into guys.”

Patton dropped his gaze, sucking his lips into his mouth in a vain attempt to smother his smile.

“Patton?”

“He’s our age and he’s into guys,” He squeaked.

“You asked?!”

“It came up naturally!”

“How?!”

“Not important!” He was full on beaming now, hopping on his toes. “You should totally talk to him next weekend!”

“No. Nope. Not happening.”

The following Friday, Virgil found himself sitting on his deck under the roof, scrolling aimlessly through Tumblr, and it had absolutely nothing to do with the fact that he happened to see a new car pull into Logan’s spot thirty minutes after the man left. Nothing like that at all. He sipped absentmindedly on the lemonade Patton had brought him with a cheeky look on his face, trying not to think about the fact that the angel voiced man was right next door. And his heart absolutely did not begin to pound when the tell tale screeching of the screen door sounded.

This time, music accompanied the man’s singing as he hooked the dog, Gremmy, onto her leash.

“Angelica,

Eliza,

And Peggy,

The Schuyler sisters,

Angelica (Peggy) Eliza (Work!)”

Even if Virgil had only heard his voice once, it seemed fitting that he was trying to sing every part, altering slightly to nail the voice changes of every character. He curled up a little more in his chair as the man followed Gremmy out onto the lawn, music still pumping from his phone.

“Daddy said to be home by sundown,

Daddy doesn’t need to know,

Daddy said not to go downtown,

Like I said, you’re free to go.”

Virgil couldn’t breathe, but that was the heat’s fault. It definitely wasn’t caused by the gorgeous man now dancing in small circles on the grass, dog jumping at his feet as he laughed along to the music. The sudden warmth in his face was caused by the sun, not the toned muscle of the man’s arms, or the way his much too loose muscle tee showed off his tan, or how his light brown hair flopped over his eyes when he bent down to pick up a stick from the ground. All while singing; just carelessly enjoying himself.

“Angelica, remind me what we’re looking for?

(She’s looking for me!)

Eliza, I’m looking for a mind at work (work),

I’m looking for a mind at work (work),

Woah, woah, woah, woah, work!”

The harmonies were too much, his voice flawlessly adding a fourth harmony where there wasn’t in the song. Virgil jumped like a spooked cat, fleeing into the house and drawing the curtains shut hurriedly. He knew the other man had probably heard the door slam, but that wasn’t his main concern right now.

“Gay panic?”

Virgil spun around to see Janus, all too bemused, sipping Gatorade out of a wine glass. The man’s sense of class would not be affected by the time of day. “Gay panic,” He confirmed weakly, sliding down the wall, “He’s hot.”

“Let me see.”

“Janus, no, what are you doing?!”

The taller man pulled the curtain aside, humming under his breath. “Oh yeah, he is hot.”

“Jan, stop!” He hissed, trying to tug Janus’ arm down from the curtain without being seen.

“Oh, he’s waving at me.”

“WHAT?!”

“Can I wave back?”

“NO!”

Janus waved back, kicking Virgil lightly out of sight. “Let go of my sleeve, fucker.”

Virgil did, booking it upstairs as soon as Janus dropped the curtain. He flopped onto his bed with a groan that was almost loud enough to be a shriek, swearing to himself to not go outside for the rest of the weekend. And to kill Janus later. He did leave his window open though, but not because he wanted to keep hearing the snippets of song that floated up to his room every time the sliding glass next door opened. Not at all.

Virgil hated that he ended up counting down the days until Friday, and that he couldn’t tear himself away from the window until he arrived. Responding to his housemates giggles and stares with a quick flip of the bird, he took his usual spot on the deck. Because the weather was nice, and he needs a tan. No other reason. Not that he would say out loud, anyways.

He didn’t have to wait long until the door scratched open and a calm, almost haunting melody reached his ears. He’s singing along to a track again, mixing in harmonies that send shivers up Virgil’s spine.

“I saved every letter you wrote me,

From the moment I read them I knew you were mine,

You said you were mine,

I thought you were- Shit, Gremmy, no, get back here!”

Virgil jolted upright as twenty pounds of fluff landed in his chest, paws digging into his sternum. The dog looked up at him with, dare he say, smug eyes? He ran a hand through the fur on her back, holding her collar with one hand in case she decided to bolt again.

“I am so sorry! She wormed out of the gate before I got the leash on her!”

He looked up from the dog and holy hell oh my god he’s way hotter up close. Never before in his life had he wished for Patton’s bubbliness or Janus’ general aloofness, but now he would rather have any personality trait besides anxious because oh god the hottest guy he’d ever met is staring at him and he has no idea what to say.

“Well, good thing she likes me, or you’d be down a dog.” What the hell was that?

Surprisingly, the other man laughed, folding his arms across his chest. “What, you don’t think I’d be able to catch her?”

“In all honesty, probably not.”

“How dare you!” He gasped, holding a hand to his chest dramatically, “I’ll have you know Gremmy loves me!”

“I’m sure that’s why she booked it as soon as she had the chance.” He extended the dog almost comically, her too short legs waving frantically in his grip. The man took her with a murmur of thanks, giving her a stern look that made Virgil snicker. A part of him was slightly shocked that someone related to Logan could be so… relaxed. The older man seemed held together purely by stress and logic, never without a collared shirt and tie, and he would definitely never be seen in the plain white v-neck this guy was wearing really well.

“So, you’re Logan’s brother?” Where the hell was this courage coming from?!

“Yup. You know him?”

“About as well as I know any of my neighbors. So, barely. But he’s close with my roommate.”

The man’s expression turned to glee as he shifted the dog in his arms. She seemed unhappy being held when there were birds to be chased, but her struggle was lazy. “Patton, right? I’ve heard a lot about him.”

“Oh?”

He hummed happily, fiddling with Gremmy’s collar. “It’s about time Logan found someone who makes him happy. We never really understood each other when it comes to interacting with other people. He’s more secluded nerd, and I’m more…” He trailed off, waving his fingers under the dog cluelessly.

“More theatre nerd?” Virgil guessed, pleased with the way the man’s eyebrows flew up.

“How’d you guess that?”

“You’ve been singing a different Hamilton song every time you’ve taken the dog out.”

Instead of looking embarrassed or upset like Virgil would definitely be in his situation, he seemed to puff up more, almost delighted.

“Ah, I thought I had an audience! That was you?”

Virgil could feel his face turning beet red, much to his chagrin. This was it, this was the moment he died. Let the earth open up and swallow him whole, his little pride had been too wounded to continue. The man took his silence as answer enough, seemingly pleased with the reaction.

“I’m Roman,” The man grinned, holding out his hand. He took it hesitantly, the touch sending a shock up his spine that he was barely able to suppress.

“Virgil.”

“It’s very nice to meet you, Virgil.”

He couldn’t help the authentic smile that tugged on his lips as they shook hands, Gremmy dangling from Roman’s other arm like a football.

“You too, Roman.”

#lywrites #sanderssides #sanders sides #virgil sanders #roman sanders #logan sanders #patton sanders #janus sanders #hamilton #sanderssidesfanfiction

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ilooklikeaburntchickenugget · 3 years

Text

Only Mine Pt. 2

A/N: Part 2! I’m really sorry if there are any grammatical errors. I haven’t updated in a bit, wanted to give you guys something, so I haven’t really proof read... like at all. So yeah, if there’s some weird mistakes it’s that. Pairing: Gerard Way x F!Reader Word count: 2339 Warnings: Implied smut, a few curse words (I think one, tbh)

The Grammys. An artists dream award.

To even be recognized by the Grammys was already a huge deal for any singer, songwriter, or band. But to be nominated for 10 awards? That was a whole other ballgame.

That’s where you stood tonight though. On the large red carpet in a formal ball gown, an off shoulder look with a slit next to your leg, and it was a beautiful emerald green color, Gerard next to you in a solid black tux. Usually he would say no to these events, but it was you. And this could have been the night you received your greatest accomplishment ever, so he was not going to miss it for the world.

Just like Gerard had predicted, My Midnight Boy was an absolute hit. Many were already considering it the album of the decade, and was placed on to Billboard Top 100 at #1 for over 12 weeks, with over half of the songs reaching the top 5. While that was exciting for so many reasons, a lot of other things in your personal life took a 180. For starters, paparazzi were everywhere. Anytime you or Gerard walked out of your New York apartment, a line of at least half a dozen paps were suited with large cameras to take as many photos as possible. When the two of you were together, there were usually 20. So naturally, you both had to hire security. It was never a decision that you wanted to make, it was one that needed to happen.

Next, your band broke up. Apparently, the boys there couldn’t take your individual success and broke up in a screaming fight which left you crying in a studio, and Gerard having to come and console you for a few hours, reminding you that they left because they couldn’t handle your fame and success.

Your fandom also grew immensely, which was great. You loved scrolling through your Instagram and Twitter everyday, only to see hundreds of fans show off your merch. Some even had Y/N Y/L/N themed parties, rooms, and costumes. It was all so overwhelming, in a good way.

You and him had both done numerous interviews at this point. You were especially glad that Gerard was being asked about My Chem, and not just you. And the questions that did come about you, he would always have the sweetest most genuine answers. “She’s honestly the most incredible woman I’ve ever met, and I’m so lucky to have her as my best friend and fiancee.” “She’s a musical genius, honestly. She’s way smarter, way more beautiful, and way more talented than me. Which I’m okay with because she deserves and has earned everything she has.” “She surprises me everyday. She has new, crazy ideas for music. And they all work. She just makes it work.”

And every time you would stand off with a huge smile and even more prominent blush on your face. Finally, at one point, you were asked about Gerard. After all, it was pretty well known now that “My Midnight Boy” was, well, Gerard.

“He’s honestly the best man ever.” You smiled and looked over at him as he just smiled, “I wouldn’t have written as genuine, and heartfelt songs about anyone else. He just makes me feel every emotion, and he’s the one who brings out the best me. He’s my number one supporter, and he always reminds me of that. I couldn’t dream of a more perfect person to spend the rest of my life with.” You could feel your lover squeeze your hand in a small gesture of thanks. You both smiled, departing from that interviewer where your manager met you at the end of the carpet.

“You both did great.” He smiled, “Now the official show starts in about 20 minutes, so they’re beginning to urge everyone to take their seats. Since both of you are done with interviews, it’s probably a good time to head in.” The two of you nodded, being led into the auditorium where you were seated in the first row. Best of the best.

You had an insane amount of people, stars who you had never even dreamt of meeting, coming up and introducing themselves, starting small talk about just how incredible your album was.

You were quite overwhelmed by everything, being at the Grammys hadn’t really sunk in until you were actually there. Gerard could tell, pretty easily, and simply placed his hand on your knee, giving it a lightly squeeze. “It’s okay, sugar,” He whispered into your ear, “You’re doing great.” You gave him a tight smile, him returning one back.

Only a few minutes later, the awards started. You had to admit, it was less glamorized than what seeing it on TV made it out to be. Of course the performances were great, but the moments of complete boredom during commercial breaks and such made you realize were so many stars had complained some about the Grammys.

“After this,” You yawned during once of the breaks, placing your head on Gerard’s shoulder, “Can we go home and eat get some Chinese take out?” “Whatever you want, love.” He kissed the top of your head. You and him were not into much PDA, so anything beyond a hand hold or kiss was a lot.

“And a movie?” You asked next and he smiled.

“Of course, darling.” You smiled back, picking your head back up. The show restarted, both of you sitting back up as they continued going through some of the smaller categories, finally hitting the large ones.

“Next up, we have song of the year.” The two announcers smiled. They went through a list of artists along with their songs, Ariana Grande, Beyonce, and a few more were included, “Cardigan, Y/F/N Y/L/N.” They said and you smiled, Gerard next to you smiling as well as the cameras flashed to the two of you.

“And the award goes to...” It took them a few moments to open the card, your heart beginning to race. You grabbed onto Gerard’s hand, giving it a squeeze, and him squeezing back as your eyes went wide in anticipation, breaths caught in your throats.

“Cardigan, Y/F/N Y/L/N!” You heard cheering as you let out both a breath and a huge smile. You stood up with Gerard, who was already standing and clapping as you gave him a hug, him immediately hugging you back and giving you a kiss on the lips as the cheers continued. You only stayed for a few seconds before smiling at him again, and running up to the stage to the best of your abilities.

You hugged the two announcers as they handed you your very own Grammy. You looked at it only for a brief moment, holding it while you walked up to the mic. “Okay, so this is absolutely insane.” You sighed as a few people began laughing. “This is my first Grammy ever, and to even be able to be nominated for something like this was enough for me. But winning is beyond my wildest dreams.” You took a brief pause to actually breathe, “I want to thank all my friends and family who let me follow my passions and dreams of being a musician, I would like to thank my wonderful fiancee and muse who, without him, this song and no other song on that album would have been written. And I would like to thank every single fan who has stuck by me through thick and thin. You guys are what keeps me running every day and give me motivation to keep pushing my music further even when it may seem like I can’t, or it’s impossible. This is just so crazy, but thank you everyone!” You smiled as the cheers re-erupted, the trophy being taken away from your temporarily.

You found yourself right back in your loving fiancees arms before sitting back down. “You just won a Grammy.” He sat in awe and began lightly laughing, “You just won a Grammy!” “I know!” You responded, too in shock. “I really hope you do realize I couldn’t have ever done it without you though.” You smiled at him.

“Oh, please,” He scoffed, “You’re a musical genius. You could easily do anything without me.” “But you’re my muse!” You defended.

“Which is extremely flattering, thank you.” He gave you a peck on the lips, “But seriously, you deserve every inch of that award. You worked hard for it. You deserve it.” You smiled up at him.

“You’re incredible, you know that?” “Oh, not nearly as incredible as you darling.” By the end of the night, you had managed to do what almost no other artist had done. Won 10 Grammys in one night.

You stood on the large red carpet, dozens of Grammy logos behind you as you yourself held 10 trophies, stacked on one another, up to your chin. You smiled at all the cameras, flashing from a million different directions, your name being yelled over and over as they tried to get your attention.

Finally, you got the okay to walk off, a few people helping to retrieve your awards, which would later get your name engraved into them. At the end, behind everyone and all the chaos was your manager and Gerard, who both stood and smiled at you. You ran into his arms, giving him a tight hug as he gave you one back.

“I’m so proud of you.” He smiled down at you, your height difference pretty visible.

“Thank you.” You smiled like a fool giving you a quick kiss.

“I can’t believe it, Y/N,” Your managed spoke, “You did it!” You nodded and gave him, too, a hug. “This is huge. I mean, absolutely huge!” You nodded. “You set a record, you have 10 Grammys, I mean-” “It feels too good to be true.” You commented and he nodded. “Are you two heading to any of the after parties?” You shook your head, “I assumed not.” He smiled, “Which actually makes my life easier because I don’t have to go and monitor either.” You lightly laughed, “Well you two go home, and relax. Have some fun, but not too much fun.” He smirked.

“Oh shut up.” You rolled your eyes and waved as you and Gerard went to the back entrance to be picked up by a driver who was taking you back to your LA home.

Gerard opened the front door, letting you in first, and closing it once he got in. You slipped off your shoes with a sigh. “I think I’m gonna go upstairs, take off my makeup and all.” You lightly smiled at him. “I’ll come with you.” He smiled back. The two of you ran up the stairs like foolish teenagers in love, stumbling from one stair to another before reaching the top floor and running to the master bedroom, Gerard shutting the door eagerly behind you.

He immediately ran up to you after that, giving you a long and passionate kiss. You melted into him, letting him gently push you onto the plush bed. “So we’re on the same page?” You pulled away for a brief moment to catch some air. He lightly laughed.

“Yeah, babe.” He went right back to his assault on your lips, moving down to your neck and collarbone, finding your sweet spot quickly where you let out a loud moan. “Gee,” You begged and he hummed.

“Yes, baby doll?” He inquired, looking up to you from where he continued to plant kisses on your collar bone.

“Please.” Your strained and needy voice sounded.

“Please, what, baby?” He teased you a bit and you lightly huffed.

“Just fuck me.” You said with confidence this time.

“Your wish is my command.”

That led you to laying beside him, your body covered in both his and your own sweat. His arm was tightly wrapped around you as he played with your hair. He gave you a quick kiss. “Where’re you going?” You whined. He looked back and lightly laughed.

“To clean you up, sugar.” He lightly smiled, walking into the en suite. “I don’t deserve you.” You muttered and smiled, pulling the duvet over your bare body.

“I could say the same for you.” He smiled, coming back with a towel. “You’re just too damn perfect.” He sighed.

“Oh, c’mon Gee, don’t lie to you or me.”

“I mean it,” He climbed into bed next to you, “You are perfect.”

“Sure,” You sighed, he leaned in and gave you a kiss.

“I’m going to work my entire damn life to make you understand you’re perfect if I have to.” You placed your head on his shoulder.

“I love you.” You smiled up at him.

“I love you too.” He smiled back.

“Now can we get Chinese food.” He lightly laughed.

“Yes, of course.” He got up, wrapping himself in a towel, “And then watch Star Wars?” He asked hopefully.

“Yeah, what else we would watch?” “I don’t know,” He sighed, “A horror movie-” “I don’t like those, Gee.” You whined.

“I know,” He smiled, “That’s why we don’t watch them.” You got up yourself, taking part of a throw blanket to cover yourself as you walked into your walk in closet, grabbing your Star Wars PJs.

“Gee,” You called into his closet, “You better be wearing your-” “Star Wars PJs? Yeah, I know.” He walked out with them on, and you with yours.

“Perfect.” You smiled and he wrapped an arm around you.

“You know I am so proud of you, right?” He looked over at you as you were walking down the stairs. You smiled, blushing and involuntarily covering your face with your sleeves to hide it. “Oh c’mon! I wanna see your pretty face.” He complained.

“Thanks.” You looked up at him lightly, still shying away from the praise.

“C’mere sugar.” He opened up your arms which you walked in as he held you tightly, kissing the top of your head. “You really are perfect. Too perfect, but perfect.”

#gerard way x reader #gerard way fanfiction #gerard way #gee way #my chemical romance #My Chem #my chemical gerard #my chemical gee #my chemical romance x reader

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goth-girlfriend · 4 years

Note

Hear me out: Reader who is richer than Shoto and Momo combined. They have a reputation of being stuck up and transfer into UA by STRONG recommendation. Everyone avoids her out of fear of being caught in rich wrath. But it’s not until the Bakusquad make a joke with her they realize what a complete idiot/nerd/funny person she is. Denki *makes joke about reader being to rich* Reader *pulls out hundreds to wipe tears and throws them on the floor when the tears are gone* If you can please? 😊❤️❤️

Request: “Sorry to message you! I but I sent a recent ask! I was going to ask if you could add the reader having like mesmerizing long black hair and killer brows and false lashes? Bonus if she ends up with Best Boom Boy!

I love this honestly! I’ll do my best to answer this the best I can! I’m assuming Bakugo right? I hope so, ☺️

Pairing: Katsuki Bakugo x Reader + Friend Bakusquad

🖤💥❤️🧡🖤💚🖤🧡❤️🧡🖤💚🖤🧡❤️💥🖤

Class 1-A was bustling with conversation at the news they’d just gotten. A new student would be joining the class Mid Semester. The daughter of a well known known man in Japan.

The Family name foreign, (L/n), It’s been in Japan no longer than four generations. And they’d already come to sit on the top of the money empire. Being rich and known would be a good thing for anyone aspiring to become a hero. It was a lie, often times press would take chances to start rumors and make false accusations leading the newest generation of (L/n) to be held to a new standard.

“I know! Everyone makes her out to be stuck up, snobby and rude!”

Morning

“Aren’t the (L/n)’s the family the Hero Times magazine compared to other families? If I’m right they said Her family dwarfs the Yaoyorozu, Iida, and Todoroki families combined!”

“I heard she had press locked up and cameras destroyed for taking her picture!”

“Oh! I saw a video from her middle school days! You can’t really make her out, but she brought a girl to her knees in-front of the school! For something she did....”

“Oh! She must be the girl who took down a group of boys because one of them brushed shoulders with her!”

“No way! I heard she got a boy expelled because she thought he was looking down on her!”

“She s-sounds scary, I don’t think I want to talk to her.”

“Yeah, I don’t wanna run the risk of getting kicked out of U.A., not after all the hard work I put in to get here.”

The chatter continued, on the other side of the door, hearing every comment stood (Y/n), her brows furrowed slightly in anger. She released the tension in her brows, they rested in their usual place. Her brows fell into her natural RBF as she sighed, she looked at the Principal, the dog/bear/mouse beside her smiled and knocked. It was answered by the Teacher she had met not to long again Erased Head, or as she’d be introduced. Shota Aizawa.

“I’ll leaver her in your capable hands, make sure she gets a good view on what U.A. iS really about.” He smiled and waved at the teacher and left without word.

Aizawa let the girl enter and stand at the front of the class room. He stepped over to his desk picking up a black folder with a golden crest printed on the front. It was the information U.A. has asked for when you applied.

“Why don’t you introduce yourself.” Aizawa said staring at at the first part of your folder. A record for my our old school, no tardies, no absences, no missing work, no violations, no record punishment, no reported incidents, No grade under a 98. Class representative, president of 6 clubs, President of Student Body Council, 4.0 GPA, in quirk control you placed number one in your school, In your school Sport festival you came in first, Cultural Festival you’d brought in the most donations and had a recommendation letter from almost every teacher and both the principal and vice principal.

I stood silent for a minute staring the class over, recognizing every weak point. I didn’t bother smiling, they probably would be scared anyway. I looked through the corner of my eyes to the window.

“I’m (y/n) (l/n), call me (l/n), I don’t have time to waste on friends, formalities. You bunch of extras would probably just drag me down, I don’t expect much from any of you. I reached the top of my class with ease, and by just looking at you I can tell it won’t be any different.” I scoffed and looked over the class. I

It definitely struck some nerves.

“WHO THE HELL DID YOU JUST CALL AN EXTRA YOU TRASH.” A blonde boy with red eyes glared at me popping up from his seat.

Pops coming from his hand, I stared his down, “What are you doing?” I scoffed, “With pop rocks like that the only thing you’d be scaring it probably a kitten.”

“I’ll kill you!” He screamed bringing his hand up.

“Bet.” Was all is said, a watched his hand and the bright light starting to form, with a quick hand sign he fell face first into the floor arms bound behind his back.

I watched him struggle, explosions forming in his palms. Everyone watched him, stares no longer on me I turned to Aizawa.

“Take a seat in the back by the window, it’s the only open desk.” He said closing the file.

I looked ahead not bothering to look at anyone or make eye contact, I say down and moved my hair so I wouldn’t sit on it. I brought my hands to my nape and pushed them back pushing my hair over my back and into the space between my back and the chair. It felt pooling into the part of the chair I didn’t take and overflowing on sides where he chair didn’t catch. It dangled just an inch from the floor. I held my bag beside me. As I got adjusted to my seat and finally looked ahead to the front of class. I felt stares as I started to pull out my notebook, pen, and pencil. 🖤

I ignored it and went about my business, by the end of the day I heard whispers of why the things I used were so expensive. They hadn’t seen my phone yet, it’d definitely kill them if just a brand note book had them like this. The day was finally coming to an end, during lunch I stayed in class, afraid of sitting alone, I’d rather be alone and unseen rather than alone and stared at.

I sighed and looked at my bag, class was coming to an end for the day, and Aizawa was standing at front in his sleeping bag. Everyone was talking, some sitting on desks. I pulled out my phone, over a thousand notifications on my public social media’s, my dads manager saying I need to become friendlier with the public because of the appearance the press keeps trying to force onto me.

‘I set up some social media accounts for you just post about your day, make some friends post about them, just show the public you aren’t who they’re trying to make you out to be.’

I scoffed at his words but nodded just agreeing, if it’s for my dad I’d try my best. So here I am switching between accounts and now on public Snapchat scrolling through chats answering a few and adding people back so it feel more ‘personal’

“Do you see that?” I heard a whisper.

“Do you think it’s real?”

“It’s huge! If it’s real it must cost a fortune!”

“Look it up.....”

The room was silent for a minute,

“No way, the company only made a few and they sold for 48.5 million, and that was an IPhone six, that’s literally the newest iPhone, so it ages to be worth double even triple what the six was!”

“Go ask,” “Dude, no you go ask.”

“I’m scared,” “You probably should be.”

The bell rang and I was up and gone, no point in sticking around. I found a stair case, it led up to the roof. I followed it, it was so high. I walked over to the railing, I watched people pour out rushing to dorms or wherever else. I dropped my bag on the gravel floor and reached for my phone in my pocket, I held up my camera to the sun, the sky was turning orange. I took a picture, the sun rays peaking through the clouds.

I waited it out a bit longer, I felt a smile graze my face for the first second time today. My friend was posting on her story pictures we’d taken last year today. We skipped school to go to arcades, she met her boyfriend of one year now, we had boba, bought a bunch of merch, and just stayed out till night had claimed the sky. We walked home, bags in tow, uniforms scrunched up, cheeks sore from laughing and smiling the whole day.

Just as I finished the story I got another notification, a message from her. I opened it it was a video, unknown to us it was my last day at my old High school.

“Awww, I love you!” She hugged me, I hugged her back, “Love your too loser.”

“We’ll be best friends and together forever right?” She smiled as we rocked back in forth in the hug.

“I wouldn’t leave you for the world.” I laughed.

“Well just act like I’m not here,” her boyfriends voice in the background.

“I will, bros before.....hoes.....” she laughed and I smiled shaking my head.

“Come on, ill pay dinner.” I said and the video stopped.

‘You loser 😭 I didn’t feel like crying today, it’s my first day of school.’

‘Then you shouldn’t have left me 😭

‘I didn’t even know 😢’

‘🤔 Mhm, we need to meet up soon, it’s only been a day but I already miss you 😢’

‘Aight Bet.’

‘A challenge? 👀’

‘Saturday the usual? 😎’

‘I accept your invitation.’

The conversation ended and I headed to the dorms. This repeat for the next few days, I met with my friend Saturday and told her about my dads managed, she agreed every weekend we’d meet up and feed the public. After a month of this I was sitting in class minding my business, I cracked a smile at my phone and quickly wiped it away realizing I was still being watched.

“Sooo, (l/n)?” I looked up, the boy everyone called Denki leaning on my desk.

I cocked a brow, “Hm?”

“I’m in need of money, and I’ve been shot down twice, sooo, let’s make a bet a gamble really. If you win I’ll pay you, but if I win you pay me.” He sounded so cocky, I squinted at him brows furrowed.

I reached into my bag bringing out my wallet “I don’t waste time just take a donation.” I pulled out six hundred and handed it over like it was nothing.

“Oh....thanks? I guess it’s easier to pay people off when your loaded,” It sounded more like a joke.

I felt a small smile and pulled out another hundred, “Sometiwms you have to buy friends, it’s sad I know.” I patted fake tears and dropped the money ont he floor.

“But you know what they say,” I held the hundred out to him, “You feel better when you cry in a Ferrari.” I let out a single laugh, and then realized the mistake I made when I smield as he laughed.

“I knew you weren’t completely heartl-” I cut him off,

“Don’t talk about it, I’ll pay you off to never mention it.” He laughed and smiled a hand reaching to the back of his neck.

“Call us friends and you won’t even have to pay me.” He smiled.

“Deal.” I answered.

He opened his phone and held it out, “here add your number.”

I sigehd and added my number, he sent me a message and I saved him number.

“Alright new friend, I’ll see you later.”

He waved and walked off as the bell rang.The next day I was dragged to lunch and sat between Denki and Bakugo. I don’t know what to do, so I just drank water, I tried to talk to Mina when she talked to em but they all seemed so tense except for Denki.This became my schedule for the weeks to come.

“I’m hungry,” I grumbled into my phone.

Denki had FaceTimed me at 2 in the morning.

“Then go eat, nobody’s up except you and me.” He shrugged sitting on his bed under his blanket.

“Alright, I’ll be back. so just stay here.” I propped my phone up he had a view of my room from the prop my phone was on.

“Oooo, even your room looks like it belongs to a rich girl. Definitely fancier then Yaoyorozu’s.” He looked around to see what he could.

“Nice, I’ll be back I’m going to find.... dinner?”

“MKay.” Was all he said as he yawned.

I grabbed my second phone and popped in my AirPods, I started to play my music on shuffle. Making it to the Kitchen I was vibing with my music and getting into it. I started to make a sandwich and doing weird dances. I smiled and finally started to Clean up.The song Falling for you, started to play and for some reason my mind went to a certain blonde. I smield to myself, thinking about him. I fluffed my hair and ran my finger over my lashes. I felt the tips of my hair brushing my bare legs.

I smiled and picked up my sandwich and started a new dance with hip movement when the song Hotel Room Sevrvice came on. I started to turn to walk away stopping when I met familiar eyes.

“So, the edgy princess isn’t who she acts to be.” I swallowed, staring at him, his biceps were huge, especially in that muscle shirt.

I got a message form Denki, I’d given him my second number, “SOMEONES HEADED YOUR WAY!”

“Heeeyyy Bakugo....” I was caught, no point in hiding.

“What are you doing up this late?” He asked unamused.

“Well,” I looked at my sandwich, “I was looking for food but an even better snack walked in.” I winked at him.

He made a grunt.

“No? Not Good enough?” I asked an dlwaned against the counter.

“No.”

“How about are you a tombstone cause is nat you on top of me,” I did finger guns this time putting my sandwich down.

“Anything better?” He asked his eyes narrowing.

“Are you a sinning ship? Because I really wanna go down on you.....” I didn’t fight back the smile.

I heard him cough, and I smiled as I noticed a very faint blush.

“Want me try again?” I asked with a cheeky smile.

He didn’t answer he just looked at me,

“You can call me a coffin cause I want you be in-“ I couldn’t finsh I looked and licked my top lip, I assume she understood what I meant but wanted to finsh “inside me.”

At that point I forgot my hunger, I was hungry something else, nothing particularly dirty but some attention.

“Well Katsuki,” I casually walked over to him pushing myself into his side tilting my head onto his shoulder and looking up at him. “I know we definitely have a lot of bad reactions, but I say we should experiment with this chemistry we have going on.”

I pulled his left arm from across his chest and held his hand between my palms, “You look like you’d enjoy someone who would totally dominate you.” I pulled back and placed a soft kiss on his shoulder.

“What do you say?” I asked squeezing his arm.

“Yeah right,” he scoffed and looked down at me.

“Come on, from what I’ve heard you wanted to be called a king, I can make you feel like a king.” I nuzzled against his shoulder.

“I’ll give you one date, but after that you’ll just be an extra so you’ll have to stay out of my way.” He said and brushed it off like it was nothing.

“Ill make sure you don’t regret it.” I stretched and kissed his cheek and booked it out of there sandwich in tow.

“YOU WONT BELIEVE IT.” I screamed at Denki who was still on face time.

🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤

“Soooooo?” I hugged Bakugo’s waist as the class gathered around in the gym.

Everyone in costume, “You look so fine dressed in your hero uniform.” I said and trailed my hand up the giant gauntlet on his wrist.

“Hm.”He grunted ignoring the stares of disbelief. “Whatever.”

The moment we broke of into our Duos to play an all to competitive game of catch the flag we stopped in the middle of the trading grounds, I was pulled into his chest, his right hand brushing my hair from the top of my head to my lower back. “Your hair is so long,” He mumbled I felt him take a hand full and pull on it, I was weak in the knees almost instantly.

I looked up at him batting my eyelashes, “There you go batting your fake lashes just to distract me.” He grunted.

“I’d agree with you if they’re weren’t real.” I smield and blinked slowly.

“Well aren’t you just gorgeous.” He snarled and he kissed the top of my head

“Now out of my way Extra I’m leading you so don’t leave my side or get in the way.” He stepped aside and looked down at me.

“You and I both know your better at taking Commands. But I’ll play obedient, only for you Katsuki.” I winked at him.

He turned with a growl, “Let’s just go beat that damn nerd.”

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heirloommtomatoes · 4 years

Text

don’t read the last page but i stay

Mickey and Ian go on another lunch date :) Just some quick super simple fluff! Literally nothing at all happens in this other then a cute date. These boys deserve nothing but sweet domesticity forever and ever, thanks.

Word Count: 2.3k~

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Mickey picks Ian up from his afternoon shifts whenever they can cram it into their schedule. Do they live together? Sure. Did they get out of prison barely a year ago where their combined shared space was half the size of their Gallagher house bedroom? Sure. Do they still try to spend almost every waking moment together? Absolutely.

Ian’s schedule as an EMT, as sporadic as it has the potential to be, has fallen into a steady routine the past few months. Since Debbie’s arrest, Lip moving out, and the increased responsibility in the Gallagher house, Rita makes sure that every Friday Ian hands his shift over by 5pm. Mickey was promoted at his work — a promotion that warranted his first real Gallagher party a few months back — and is working steadily at the mall as the general security manager.

Ian’s laughing with the new members of his team over some pictures of their kids from last weekend when his phone buzzes. He slides it half-way out of his pocket to look at the screen:

Mick: hey dipshit I took a photo of me waiting for you

Mick: Attachment: 1 Image

Ian swipes on the message and unlocks his phone. The photo is of a mummified, presumably ancient corpse sitting cross-legged on a ridge, probably out of some National Geographic article he’d found while scrolling endlessly through random news pages while waiting for him. He stifles a laugh as he types his response.

Ian: 🖕

Ian: be out in a sec

Mick: 🖕

“That your husband?” Samantha, a younger EMT fresh out of training, nods toward his phone.

“Yeah,” Ian responds as he slips his phone back into his pocket, “Meeting him for dinner and drinks.”

Rita looks over her shoulder from where she’s rummaging around her locker. Ian expects her to make some witty remark at his expense as per usual, but instead: “You got the best relationship record outta any of us here, Gallagher,” she says with a self-deprecating laugh.

“Yeah, well,” he shrugs, “Eleven years, a bipolar diagnosis, and several prison stints seems to be the trick.”

He doesn’t mean to really joke about it; if what they went through together doesn’t count as some seriously real shit, he’s terrified to think of what does. But if he can’t make light of it now and then, if he can’t at least try to ponder the distance between then and now and look back at how far they’ve come and laugh at the simple joy of it all, then what the hell else is he supposed to do?

Laughs ripple around the locker room as Ian raises an warm to wave goodbye to everyone, overlapping “Bye Ian!”s and “Have a good weekend”s following him out.

Ian emerges from the garage, shrugging off his EMT jacket in the mid-afternoon summer sun in a way that makes Mickey’s heart flutter in his chest. He carries it loosely in a hand at his side.

“Bout time, Gallagher,” Mickey says to him with a grin. He’s been smiling a lot these days, he thinks; not that that’s anything new around Ian. He’s been making him smile since he was seventeen.

“Hey,” Ian responds easily, throwing an arm around his shoulders and planting a kiss to his cheek. A blush creeps up Mickey’s face and he grins at the ground as they walk. Ian starts babbling about the kid who broke his arm on the monkey bars and an older woman who fell down her stairs and Mickey listens, butting in for the odd comment or exclamation here and there as they make their way down the block to Boystown. It’s become their once-a-month Friday evening tradition. Mickey picks him up from work, they fill each other in on their days as they walk, they grab dinner and drinks either at one of their favourite spots in Boystown if they’re feeling like they want their own little escape, or at The Alibi if they feel like keeping it close to home. Today is too beautiful of a day to not make use of the clean outdoor patios the bars in Boystown can provide.

Mickey recounts his day when Ian’s done and maybe it doesn’t sound quite as glamorous on the surface of things, but it barely occurs to either of them. They’re both doing something they’re good at, something they’re each coming to realize they genuinely enjoy, something that makes them feel useful, and if that isn’t success, what is?

“So this old woman stuffs a bra between her boobs. Like hell I was gonna reach in there and drag it out,” Mickey huffs as he finishes up his story. Well, maybe something they genuinely enjoy most of the time. Ian laughs and it’s Mickey’s favourite sound. It’ll always be Mickey’s favourite sound.

“You sure you’re not gay?” Ian asks skeptically, recounting all the times Mickey’s jokingly —and not-as-jokingly — denied the label.

“Yeah, I’m sure,” Mickey says, casting a mischievous glance his way, “My husband is, though.”

“Ohh, I see,” Ian says with a nod, casually changing the subject as he remembers Mickey’s earlier texts, “Oh hey listen, that was a really cute photo of you earlier, Mick. You’ve found your angles, I’m impressed,” Ian says, his voice dripping with mischievous sarcasm.

“Ohhh, thanks, man,” Mickey responds with a playful nudge to Ian’s ribs, “My beauty secret is this really cool thing my husband does called making me wait for ten fucking minutes.”

Ian raises his brows at him. Game on. He opens his mouth to respond in kind, but Mickey’s grabbing him by the upper arm and tugging him into a brick-lined alleyway. Ian grunts in protest, hands flying to Mickey’s biceps to steady himself before he’s shoved against the wall.

Mickey’s kissing him like he’s been thinking about doing all day while Ian’s out here being fucking Superman, like he’s been thinking about doing his whole life. He feels Ian’s smile against his mouth and his heart leaps in his chest and he loves him. He loves him. Mickey’s not sure how or when it happens, but suddenly Ian’s grabbing him and he’s being spun and his back’s being shoved against the wall so quickly his breath almost leaves him.

“Watch it, tough guy,” he breaths, and doesn’t mean a word of it. It’s the closest he’ll come to saying do whatever you want with me.

Ian huffs a laugh, threading his left hand into Mickey’s right as he studies his husband’s face. The cold metal of his wedding band brushes against his fingers and Mickey leans forward, capturing Ian’s lips in a warm kiss that reminds him of the dugouts, reminds him of when they were teenagers too skittish and childish and young to know what to do with the swelling in their chests every time they looked at each other. Ian’s the first to pull back, but he tugs on Mickey’s hand and leads them out of the alley.

“I’m hungry,” he says with a shrug by way of explanation when Mickey gives him an incredulous stare.

“So am I,” Mickey replies quickly, glancing pointedly downwards toward Ian’s crotch. Ian barks a laugh and rolls his eyes. He’s never said it out loud, but damn if he doesn’t love how fucking funny his husband is. No one really knows that about Mickey, he thinks. Distantly he remember’s Mickey’s “now they’re black and blue balls” in the hotel room that one night when they were teenagers. Damn if he didn’t think about that one and swoon over his protectiveness and Southside charm for a good week after. In the back of his mind, he remembers Byron’s list of complaints: he’s socially inept, he’s politically ignorant, he’s violent…

Meanwhile, Ian looks fondly at Mickey and knows that he’s funny, he’s thoughtful, he’s loyal, he’s his husband.

“The fuck you starin’ at?” Mickey snaps at him, an eyebrow raised halfway up his damn forehead.

Ian rolls his eyes, “Nothin’. What do you wanna eat?”

Ian sees the hint of a shy smile on his face as Mickey turns his gaze to the various restaurants they’ve been passing, “Uh, I’m kinda feelin’ Sheffield’s, man. That sound good to you?” He asks, looking back at Ian. The midday sun silhouettes his head, creating a halo out of his red hair and glowing against the hard edges of his face. Mickey remembers the round-faced, freckled boy at the convenience store with the floppy bangs and oversized flannels. Hell, he remembers him before that. He remembers third grade, and some loser with a mop of curly red locks and oversized front teeth leaning over and asking him for a pencil. Looking at him now with his wedding band catching the light, his chiseled jaw, and the lop-sided grin directed right at Mickey, he looks like fucking Adonis.

“…Mick?” Ian’s voice snaps him back to reality.

“Huh?”

“I was saying we’re here, Neil Armstrong,” Ian quips, “Come back to Earth, I wanna eat.”

“Ay, references like that are my thing,” Mickey says as Ian’s arm around his shoulder steers them toward Sheffield’s. They continue bickering as they walk in the restaurant, much to the server’s constant exasperation as she leads them to the patio. “Since when?” “Since fuckin’…always, man.”

They sit out in the Chicago summer sun, basking in the warmth of it together as they sip their drinks. Mickey, ever the loyalist, gets the cheapest beer on the menu after casting his eyes over the ludicrously long list of names, only a third of which he can pronounce. That’s what you get for going to a brewery, he figures absentmindedly to Ian. Ian gets one of the beers lower in proof, but he knows it’ll still bring him a pleasant buzz.

“If nothing else man, your meds make getting drunk economical as hell,” Mickey says to him with a breathy laugh as he hands the waiter their menus with a nod.

“You’re telling me,” Ian responds as he leans back lazily, comfortably spreading his legs in the chair as he grabs the sunglasses hanging off his shirt collar and slides them over his eyes. Mickey follows suit with his own pair of sunglasses and damn if the two of them don’t look good. Mickey changed out of his work uniform before coming to meet him and he’s wearing a pair of jeans that actually fit him, a black tank and blue short sleeve button up top that’s open and fluttering in the light breeze. He looks so relaxed and in his element, and Ian can’t help but wonder if this is what he used to wear in Mexico. For once the memory isn’t tinged with heartache; they’re here now.

“You look good,” Ian says, eyeing Mickey up and down from across the wooden picnic-like table.

Mickey flashes him a smile, “Says you,” he responds, and it’s so disgustingly sweet and domestic that he barely knows what to do with himself. He’ll never get used to this, he thinks, and he doesn’t want to. Ian smiles in return before Micky continues and leans forward, “I was thinking about getting my GED.”

“No shit,” Ian responds, mimicking Mickey in leaning forward across the table, a casual hand still around his beer, “What prompted that?” He asks before taking a sip.

Mickey shrugs, “I like my job now, but I was talking to Larry and he thinks it’d be a good idea. It’d give me better hirability or whatever, and…I dunno, I like my job now,” he repeats almost sheepishly, like he’s about to admit something terrible, “But I’ve been thinking about wanting…more, I guess?”

Ian smiles and reaches across to put a hand over the one Mickey has resting casually on the table, “Let’s make it happen, then.”

Mickey meets his eye for a brief moment with a shy half-smile that he hides by taking a sip of his beer.

“I’m serious, Mick. We can get some study books for you, Kev and V can look after the kids when you need the house to be quiet for two seconds so you can study…” he trails off, lowering his head slightly to prompt Mickey to meet his gaze.

“Alright, alright, Jesus,” Mickey finally says with a chuckle, turning his hand over to grasp Ian’s and rub his thumb over his knuckles, “Love you,” he adds quietly, but it’s not shy or embarrassed or scared; it’s just for Ian, and only Ian.

The two of them sit for what could be hours or minutes longer, chatting about their future plans like it’s nothing but it means fucking everything to both of them. Neither of them had ever really let themselves dream of a future like this. Whenever Ian’s mind had wandered to thinking of moments like this, of sentences like “Kev and V can look after the kids”, he’d dismissed it as the wishful thinking of a manic episode. “Fucked for life” had practically been Mickey’s life mantra. They share a house, they share food, they take turns making dinner, they have monthly goddamn traditions that include sunshine and drinks and risky kisses in alleyways.

They stay at Sheffield’s far longer than they had originally intended as the waiter informs them there’s live music that evening. So they stay, both buzzed on their beers and drunk on happiness and sun and music, sharing insults and laughs, basking in the comfort and familiarity of each other’s presence as the sun casts an orange glow over the Chicago skyline.

#gallavich fic #gallavich #mickey milkovich #ian gallagher #this is some teeth rotting fluff yall i went off #im a good mood today what can i say jksjks #i love my BOYS!#i had to pretend to know what its like to be attracted to men to write this so pls appreciate my efforts jsksj #jk but also ...#my writing

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