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awakeshedreams · 3 years

Text

sugar and spice ( 1 )

pairing : resident bad boy!jjk x model student!reader

setting : highschool!au x stepbrother!au

summary :

a messy highschool!au x stepbrother!au where model student reader who has quite a few dirty little secrets sees her world take an unexpected turn when her mother comes home one day with an engagement announcement, to the father of none other than the school's resident bad boy.... Jeon Jungkook.

genre : smut, for laughs, kinda pornish, slow burn with collosaly overwhelming sexual tension

rating: soft m ( for now ) due to adult content

warnings : unconventional relationship of sexual nature, tropes and clichès, teenagers partaking in porn-esque activities, made up things with made up people happening in a made up world, don't like don't read XD

wordcount : 2.3K

a/n : i've been fighting in a long standing war and I have lost. the man known as jeon jungkook had his foot on my neck for years and today, I have finally submitted to my fate and surrendered to his reign.

yes. after a hundred years, i'm writing again. specifically, writing for bts. particularly, writing for jungkook. its been a long time coming.

life just took over and I transitioned into an adult and kind of grew out of the state of mind I was in before. but. sigh. jeon jungkook has been tormenting me the whole time. it was only a matter of time before i relapsed honestly.

so here I am again. in mind, body and spirit, a different person from who I was before but still the same in the sense that with the way bts have my whole heart, jk will always be the demon in the corner of my room that I invite to bed for a cuddle even though it's (probably really) not good for me.

do not misconstrue. I love him more than I can say. but. sigh. he has me in a chokehold, loves. please try to understand where I'm coming from.

anyways, enough with this ranting. you all came here for the nitty gritty so let me not hold you hostage with my dilemma rambling any longer. here's to the first bts fic i've posted in literal years. introducing- sugar and spice.

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Unless they told someone, no one would have been able to guess it.

At school they were complete strangers.

She was the nice head girl with a clean record, all smiles and straight A’s. He was the mysterious bad boy with a track record, all tatted up with bruised knuckles.

She wore plaid skirts with neat pleads in them and pastel sweaters with bows at the collar. He wore jeans with rips in them and leather jackets with studs.

They couldn't have been any more different.

As far as anyone was concerned, they existed on two extreme ends of a vast spectrum.

What they didn't know was that they shared a dirty little secret.

You were a girl with many dirty secrets.

For instance, you used to sell nudes online. It was a side hustle you did.

Not because you needed money.

Your mom was a renowned doctor so there was more than enough of that in your life.

Not because you needed validation from people online either.

Even without the constant compliments and the praises you knew you were visually blessed with a pretty face and a nice body too.

All things considered, you simply thought you had a nice pair of tits and you took pictures of them sometimes.

Posting the shots you snapped online came much later when you heard about this website where people were getting paid crazy money for posting racy things.

‘It’s just so degrading…’ It was one of your friends, June, who sneered, pretty nose scrunched up. She fixed her long ponytail and rolled her brown eyes while looking in the mirror at her locker. ‘Who would do such a thing, am I right?’

She said this, but June was the girl who has slept with more boys than she could count on her two hands. And those were the ones she told you about.

Like every other time, you said nothing. Even when it carried on to lunch with the rest.

‘Pretty desperate if you ask me.’ Mei the stellar track runner shrugged casually as she stretched her limbs like routine.

‘Where are their parents?’ Nina the library nerd shook her head in disapproval as she fixed her glasses so it sat right on the bridge of her nose.

‘Um… I don’t think it’s … appropriate… to talk about ….’ Kiko the one who always carried a cross and bible around mumbled into her sleeve.

All your friends spoke of it in derision and repulsion of course. This was a school for proper children so they were proper girls. At least they were supposed to be.

Regardless the conversation sparked a curiosity in you.

So you made an account and uploaded your first picture. Nothing bizarre. Just your tits in a pretty lace bra.

You made sure to keep your face out of the frame because that was the smart thing to do and you were nothing if not the smartest student in school.

In all honesty, you weren’t expecting anything out of it. In fact, in between work with student council and tutoring your juniors with finals right around the corner, you even forgot about it for an entire month.

It was by a complete whim that you decided to open the app while you’d been unwinding at your desk following a tedious day at school.

To say you were amused by the response you found waiting for you would have be a grave understatement.

You were staring at the four figure digit that now sat in your bank account.

Reading through the comment section was even more interesting.

There were all sorts of people there who had all sorts of things to say. Ranging from honestly sweet to downright dirty.

You had never been brought to tears laughing in her life before until then.

It was just so funny to see people misbehave and lose their minds over a pair of tits.

From then on it just sort of became a thing.

But that wasn't the worse of your secrets.

You were making a name for yourself on the crude web months later.

The next step was naturally to move from making taking pictures to making videos. Since you was already in too deep you didn’t see why not.

So you upgraded and opened another account. An amateur one where your touched yourself for an audience.

You were no prude.

You might have never been touched by a boy before but you had touched yourself plenty times. Stress and frustration came hand in hand with being head girl. Since you couldn’t quite vent it out at the annoying troublemakers at school, this was your second best option.

Third was watching porn, but that was mostly when you were extremely bored.

But that wasn’t where that little endeavor ended.

Later on it became a lot more risqué.

It all started when your mom hit you with a marriage announcement.

She met a guy on her business trip who she really liked and she was convinced he was the one.

Your mom had a tragic history of being a bad judge of character.

You’ve had this conversation at least five times since you became old enough to understand that boys and girls who were just friends didn’t kiss and sleep with each other.

Most times, it felt like she was doing it because she thought you needed a dad around.

You might have once, when you were younger and your mom was too busy with work to be there. But she worked from home these days and you were soo busy with school to worry about things like that.

This time it was like she was doing it for her. You were glad.

Your mom looked genuinely happy when she spoke about this guy.

Who were you to get in the way?

She spent almost the whole weekend in the kitchen. It was the longest you’ve seen her in there in your entire life.

She was excited for the dinner on Sunday.

Mr Jeon was the name of the chosen man.

He was coming over with his kid. A son, his only family. His wife passed away years ago.

You wore the dress your mom picked out for you, something cream in color and off the shoulders that brushed your knees. She looked pretty in her champagne dress. It was different from the office slacks and loose blouses you were used to seeing her in.

You stood by her at the door while the guests came through.

Lifting your head from a polite bow, you found herself staring straight into an achingly familiar pair of glinting dark eyes and went completely still.

‘Sweetie,' Your mother said sounding delighted, a soft hand on your stiff shoulder. 'This is Mr Jeon and his son Jungkook.’

Ah. Fuck.

‘Jeon dear, this is my daughter. Isn’t she lovely?’

Dinner was a mild affair, with small talk and the occasional clinking of cutlery on fine china.

From the outside looking in, you probably looked the picture perfect family already.

Only if no-one looked close enough.

Arms crossed, tongue in cheek. Your discomfort could be detected from miles away.

The two adults were oblivious.

The dark eyed boy with the slightest wave to his nape touching, brow grazing, ear covering onyx hair sat across you though; he took note of this with a passing glance and wordlessly returned to his food.

Jeon Jungkook had a countenance that betrayed his reputation.

Even though you’ve never talked, you knew plenty about him and you were sure he knew a lot about you too.

You went to the same school.

Dressed as he was in a crisp white dress shirt buttoned at the wrist and dark tailored pants with a fine belt on, it might have been hard to tell what kind of person he really was.

You lifted her gaze from your plate to look study him wordlessly, idly twisting the noodles with your fork.

People either called him the black sheep or the dark cloud but for you, Jeon Jungkook was the school’s resident lone wolf.

He smoked in the secluded areas on campus, sometimes playing his guitar. Beat up people who got on his nerves, sometimes using his guitar. Slept in class the rare times he was there, many times on his guitar.

Being his senior, you had never seen any of any of that for yourself. But you received plenty reports weekly to come to a sound conclusion.

There was no way people hated him enough to join hands in solidarity and make this all up.

It was quite the contrary actually. He had an alarming number of fans.

On the surface level you couldn’t see why. Most times you saw him, he looked bored out his mind and honestly, intimidating.

Maybe it was the tattoos. Or the ripped skinny jeans. Or the leather jackets with studs.

Maybe it was the domineering height and fit frame and structured face.

Maybe it was the intense dark eyes or the silky ruffled hair.

Even then, you failed to see the irresistible appeal in him. All those things that made him up only added to his unapproachable aura.

Bottom line was, he was bad news.

You didn’t want to be a spoil sport.

But how much of a thug your mom’s boyfriend’s son was shouldn’t be something that would make her like him less.

They were both their own people. Right ?

It was just that you just didn’t want her to be shocked and devastated if something happened later. When it happened.

Yet it seemed the serious conversation would have to wait.

After dinner your mom suggested you head to the living room to chat over wine and cheese.

You stayed back to do take out the dishes.

Earlier, your mom had stood to do it instead at first.

‘Don’t bother with that, dear.’ She reached for the plates in your hands. ‘Let me do it.’

‘It’s okay, mom.’ You smiled a little. ‘This is your night. I’ll meet you in the living room.’

'Sweetie...' Your mom looked close to tears. ‘But there’s so much of it…’

‘Jungkook,’ his father's voice had cut through the moment. He was a serious man in a crisp suit with a stoic countenance. His voice was just naturally authoritarian without him trying ‘Give her a hand.’

Jungkook stood, almost robotically.

‘It’s fine.’ You said. Politely. Nicely. Tightly. ‘I can handle this much.’

You left without another word.

That had been moments ago and now you were done with cleaning.

You stood at living room entrance for a while, taking in the scene.

The two adults were exchanging moon eyes and whispering in each other’s ears at the love seat.

Jungkook was sitting on a solo seat, but he was on his phone, completely unbothered by what was happening.

Your mom seemed to think it was the perfect time to pull out the photo album right then and there upon seeing you.

It was embarrassing but at least you knew you didn’t have to worry about the pictures spreading at school.

Jungkook was looking, picking up a picture occasionally to rove over, but he wasn’t the type to do that.

He also wasn’t the type to stare but you felt his glance shifting to you and lingering multiple times.

Once, you caught his eyes and he just stared at you across the coffee table wordlessly with a curious tilt to his head, idly flipping a picture of you dressed as a knight in glitter shining armor for Halloween at eight in his hands.

Honestly, it was starting to get annoying.

But you endured. For your mom’s sake.

Your alarm went off at exactly ten.

As subtly as you could, you excused yourself with an apology to the guests, saying you weren't really feeling well.

In hindsight you probably should have used a better excuse.

Your mom was notorious when it came to worrying, especially when it comes to your health.

Also, you probably should’ve locked the door before undressing just for good measure since people were over.

But in the moment, you were too busy setting your camera up where you were kneeling on the floor at the foot of the bed to be concerned about that.

That day you were testing out a new toy.

Distractedly, you took note of a couple of people asking you if that was your boyfriend’s shirt you had lifted over your tits.

You ignored them.

Couldn’t a girl own an oversized tee without getting any flack?

Trivial comments like that aside, a good majority of the audience are fawning over how wet you were and how perfect you bouncing tits look being played with.

Your head fell back and your eyes fluttered shut.

You were sitting there, knees raised to your chest and legs splayed, your gushing pussy in full display where the toy was stuffed deep into her tightness, vibrating pleasantly.

‘I’m close…’ you mumbled throatily, squeezing your tits and pinching your stiff nipples in between your moving fingers. You moved your hips move faster, feeling the toy buzz against fluttering walls. You took a hand off one of your tits to rub at your engorged clit. ‘Fuckfuckfuck…’

Deep in your high, you didn’t hear the door open and close with a foreboding click.

You only heard your name being called by a deep, smooth voice through the heady haze.

Instantly you stilled.

When you snapped your head to look over her shoulder Jungkook was there, hands in his pockets, leaning against your doorframe with his sleeves drawn up to his elbows, muscle roped, inked skin on full display.

When he tilted his head to the side a little, appraisively, you dared to say as a quaking chill ran down your spine and your entire body felt like it was about to burst into flames, a bit of his hair fell over his face.

His eyes were like two black in the dark as he took you in, dragging his gaze up and down your exposed body languidly.

In the back of your mind, you wished the ground would part and swallow you whole.

‘Your mom,' he starts, capturing your attention wholly, dark gaze finally flickering to your face, his voice suddenly lower, hoarser. ‘She sent me over to check on you.’

It took you a moment to realize where you were, who you were, who he was.

It was like a bucket of cold water had been dropped over your head.

Jeon Jungkook, the school's resident trouble maker, soon to be your step brother, just walked in on you fingering yourself in in front of a recording camera.

Well. Yeah.

You gulped.

You were royally fucked.

depending on the response I get I might ( most probably will ) delete this. not because I'm ashamed of my work. because I'm embarrassed of myself. I really swore to never write again and here I am. sigh. yes, I have seen my previous works and noticed just how terrible they were and this is a big reason why. so sorry for putting you through that. a million apologies.

also, that's right. I have adopted a new style which might not be to everyone's liking. another reason why.

anyways, if you liked this filth ( i know it seems mild but I can tell you it's very likely gonna get worse ) please idk uh... fuck this isn't ao3. hm.

like and drop by in the ask box if you liked it and want to see more. it makes me happy. its like serotonin fuel to me.

have a nice day. see you next time ( maybe ). stay fresh. yeah. 💜💜.

#bangtan #bts #bts angst #bts fluff #bts imagine #bts scenario #bts smut #bts au #jeon jungkook #jungkook scenario #jungkook imagine #jungkook smut #bts x reader #jungkook x reader #bts high school au #jungkook high school au

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satendou · 4 years

Text

⟼ monster

⍣ all time low series | next | 1/4

・‥…━━━━━━━☆☆━━━━━━━…‥��

⇢ pairing: tendo/reader

⇢ au: atl!au, college!au

⇢ summary: you like horror movies, tendou likes horror movies, what could go wrong?

⇥ masterlist

⇢ warnings: unprotected sex, creampie, fingering, mentions of bullying, insecurities, piercings, cursing

⇢ word count: 13.2k

・‥…━━━━━━━☆☆━━━━━━━…‥・

⇢ a/n: i think this is the biggest fic i’ve ever written and it’s one of my favorites, if not my absolute favorite i’ve written so far. it was kinda hard to write it in a way that stayed true to my vision for it but also didn’t make it childish, so i hope i succeeded in that regard. as always, thank you to @keijiskitten for editing this!

“Oh, come on, ‘Kaashi,” you said, setting your hand on your hip. You were standing around in the middle of the classroom with him and a few others, waiting for your professor to show up who was no doubt getting a coffee from the overflowing Starbucks down the street. Class would be half over before he finally arrived. “It’s just a few scary movies.”

“Sorry, _____. I have to study and I just know that trying to watch movies with you and study is gonna be a nightmare,” he said, giving you a sympathetic look. “And give me nightmares.”

You rolled your eyes and looked around to Bokuto, who was scrolling through his phone while he chatted with Yaku about the next practice. That was a hard no. Poor Bo would agree without complaint and wind up with nightmares for a week, clinging to you throughout the night. Catching Akaashi’s eye, you exchanged knowing looks and chuckles.

“Hey, _____,” Semi said from your other side. He was busy filling out a music sheet with notes for his next possible song, and the way he said your name indicated he was more focused on that than your quandary.

Still, you turned to look at him over your shoulder, quirking your eyebrow at him. When he didn’t immediately continue, you prompted him. “What’s up?”

“Oh, right,” he said, looking up from the paper. He gave you a small smile and tapped the tip of his pencil on the desk in a smooth rhythm, leaving small marks all over the surface. “You should see if Tendo wants to join you. He’s really into horror movies too.”

“Um, who?”

Semi’s eyes widened in surprise and he pointed over his shoulder. You could hear Akaashi snicker from your other side. The chair on Semi’s other side tipped back on its back legs, and a man with close-cut red hair peeked around his back, waving cheekily at you.

“Hi, name’s Tendo Satori. I’ve only been hanging around you for about two weeks now,” he said and, though he sounded lighthearted and jovial about it, you could see the way his eyes remained narrowed, scrutinizing you. And he didn’t look impressed.

You flushed bright red, realizing you did know him but had never committed his name to memory. Mostly because he hadn’t ever really said anything to you or seemed interested in you at all.

“I-- well, I’m sorry,” you offered awkwardly. But you meant it, at least. You felt a bit bad now that he was in your face. Trying to lighten the mood, you joked, “I’m _____ _____ and my brain space is committed to horror movies and studying. No space for names I’m afraid.”

Semi rolled his eyes and Akaashi heaved a long-suffering sigh, covering his eyes with his hand, but Tendo laughed at your stupid joke. His eyes eased up, his smile relaxing, and he now looked genuinely interested.

“A horror movie marathon, huh? I’m interested. Why don’t you tell me more?”

Tendo didn’t actually expect it to go his way. As with most other people, he was sure you were just faking your enthusiasm and would flake out once you were free of him.

And yet when lunch rolled around and your group of friends were standing in the breezeway, shivering as you tried to pick out some place to go and eat off campus, you fell into step beside him.

“I really am sorry for not knowing who you were,” you offered, adjusting your bag on your shoulder and slipping a pair of gloves on. “Could we, maybe--”

He cut you off, grinning. “Forgiven and forgotten, _____.”

Hesitantly, you smiled back. He was strange, to be sure. Even though you hadn’t really had a true conversation with him yet, you got the feeling he was different, eccentric and unpredictable maybe. The way he harassed the shit out of Semi and some of the others was hysterical, though. You couldn’t pinpoint what it was that made you feel that way, but it wasn’t bad. You were even a little curious.

“Okay cool. So if, by chance, we were to do this movie marathon, how would you feel about cannibals?” you asked, tapping your chin thoughtfully. It was a theme you had been thinking about for a while, but none of your friends were into horror movies much, let alone a dozen or so movies centered around such a gory theme.

Tendo clicked his tongue and you heard a strange clink. “Hypothetically, right?”

“Right,” you said, your eyes zeroed in on his mouth, waiting for him to speak again.

He hummed, his lips curling in thought and his eyes narrowing as he stared off in the distance. Second in height only to Bokuto, he towered over everyone even though the two of you walked together at the back of the group. Speaking of Bokuto, you could hear him over the chatter of the other students around you, talking about the diner just a block away from the school and guessed that that was where you were going.

Then he shrugged. “That sounds rad. What’re you thinking? Hypothetically.”

“Well, obviously gotta go with The Hills Have Eyes. I mean, it’s a classic. And then of course Wrong Turn because there’s so many of those. And, uh…that’s all I have, but that’s literally like 8 movies and if we get past those I don’t know what we’ll do,” you said, weaving through the throngs of people on the sidewalk. You had forgotten you had been trying to see what was in his mouth just a few minutes ago as you avoided toes. You could see the diner sign up ahead, reading “Newly Opened” and a list of menu items, but it was otherwise obscured from your view.

A gasp from Tendo startled you and you whipped around to look at him, only to find him staring at you in disbelief.

He had to fight the laugh in his chest from coming up at the wide-eyed, freaked out look on your face as he said, “I cannot believe you’ve forgotten the most classic of classic cannibal movies, _____. How could you forget The Texas Chainsaw Massacre movies?”

Relief mingled with amusement on your face when you realized what he was getting at, and you covered your mouth as you laughed. Putting on your best ashamed expression, you closed your eyes. “I can’t believe I forgot those. I’m such a fake fan.”

“Kicked out of the club for sure,” he said, holding the door open for you. The bustle of the diner drowned out anything more Tendo said as you followed the others towards a large table in the back corner. After that, you were seated between Semi and Akaashi and the conversation was halted.

For the time being.

You didn’t bring up the marathon again, though you snagged Tendo’s number the day after you went to the diner. The conversation started out about movies and morphed into other topics like majors, highschools, how he knew Eita and how you had met Bokuto and Akaashi, amongst others. It left Tendo in a bit of confusion. The two of you kept up a steady stream of communication throughout the day, even sneaking in texts during classes that could net you extra work or pop quizzes. And yet never once was the marathon mentioned.

Part of him was bummed because he had kind of been looking forward to the movies, but the larger part of him was unsurprised. Something like that was way too intimate, and for someone like you to want to do something like that with a-- someone like him was too much to hope for. He was just happy that you weren’t avoiding him like most others did; he wasn’t going to ask for more.

Except he kind of did want more, and he didn’t want to feel that. The disappointment was already tangible on his tongue and he swallowed it down every time he saw you in the hall, chatting or laughing with someone else. It would ease slightly when you would turn to look in his direction, flashing a smile and waving as you passed by. In class, you started sitting beside him, Bokuto and Akaashi often following behind, and he found his small group of friends growing because of you. Bokuto was loud and brash and treated him like they were best friends, and Akaashi’s quiet demeanor reminded him a lot of Ushijima. Except he was maybe a little more expressive.

You even started walking home with him, parting ways when you had to go in different directions with a soft smile and a shine in your eyes that he tried not to read too much into. He enjoyed those days, when no one else was around and he just talked. You even knew some of the manga he read, and he lost himself rambling about Jump. When he brought it up once, about how he talked too much, you shook your head frantically.

“No, no, I don’t mind! It reminds me of Bokuto, to be honest. He can talk about anything and keep a conversation going so easily. I’m kinda jealous,” you said, giving him that satisfied smile again.

He tried to clamp down on the feelings, to keep a tight rein on the emotions that kept trying to pull his eyes in your direction anytime he heard your voice or drew his thoughts to you late at night.

Sighing, he rubbed his eyes, frustrated at the fact that he was thinking of you a-fuckin’-gain. Didn’t he have enough to worry about without wondering what you thought of him? He already knew. You weren’t interested. It was fine.

His phone dinged, the screen lighting up to reveal your name and a text.

You: ‘watcha up to?’ Tendo: ‘nm. studying and suffering. you?’ Y: ‘“studying” sksks what’re you doing tomorrow night by chance?’

Tendo’s heart stuttered in his chest and he groaned, barely resisting the urge to fling his phone out the frost covered window in front of him. For the love of god, could the universe stop fucking with him? Clicking his tongue, he considered telling you he was busy. It would be easiest, and save him the disappointment that was sure to accompany whatever you had planned.

But his fingers were traitorous and typed out exactly what he didn’t want to say. Or so he told himself.

T: ‘nothin. what’re you thinkin?’ Y: ‘well...i’m thinkin about cannibals’

Tendou snorted at that and watched the three little dots appear again.

Y: ‘and u’

He choked and slammed his phone down on the desk, wincing and immediately picking it back up to check the damage. No, no way, he wouldn’t look at it like that. It wasn’t like that. You were just inviting him for the movie marathon in a totally platonic way.

Another message came in.

Y: ‘and me’

You were actually trying to kill him.

He could think of nothing the next day but how much he was looking forward to that night. Once he had finally gotten his shit together enough to text you back, the kinks had been worked out. It was almost a no brainer that he would be spending the night. A movie marathon with twelve movies meant an all-nighter, if the two of you could pull it off. He would go home after classes, while away the few hours until around six o’clock, and then head to the address you had given him.

Unfortunately, he didn’t see much of you that day. You shared no classes, and you had a class when he took lunch, so he ate with Semi and Bokuto that day. Instead you snuck texts to him when you could, mostly talking about how excited you were for that night. It didn’t help, somehow both fanning and soothing his inner turmoil.

“Why do you look like you’re gonna throw up?” Semi asked at last. Tendo was staring at his half-eaten chicken sandwich like it had mortally offended him, and he was curious.

Tendo jumped, having forgotten the other two were even with him, and shook his head. “Uh, nothin’.”

But Bokuto snickered and leaned in to whisper to Semi, who was already suspicious of his short, clipped answer. Whether he actually wanted to whisper or not, Tendo wasn’t sure, but Bo sure as shit didn’t manage it. “Him and _____ are gonna watch movies tonight.”

Of course you had told Bokuto. And probably Akaashi too. He wondered if they had changed their minds and decided to join you when they found out. It put a rather annoying feeling in his chest, like someone was squeezing his heart.

The other two were still talking in a loud whisper, watching Tendo’s expression shift and flicker through a myriad of emotions. Bokuto was lost, but Semi could recognize them after so many years of knowing the moody red-head, and wanted to laugh. He was so good at hiding his negative emotions, but when it came to sadness or happiness, he was like an open book. And he was being pretty obvious right then.

“Wow, that’s pretty big, Tendo,” he said, watching his friend closely. Tendo flinched, shrinking into his hoodie, and Semi nodded to himself. “Don’t let yourself get so worked up. She wouldn’t ask if she didn’t want to.”

He knew where Tendo’s insecurities were coming from. A childhood fraught with bullies and fake friends and people pretending they wanted him around only to treat him like a freak. Even through highschool it was that way, with a particularly nasty incident involving a girl pretending to want to date him that ended with Tendo refusing to come to school for almost a week. After that, he kept to himself and the volleyball club, refusing to even acknowledge that anyone else might actually want to get to know him seriously.

It had gotten a bit easier when he left Shiratorizawa and those memories and most of those people behind. Growing up with them was what had made it hardest, so surrounding himself with fresh people who didn’t have any preconceived notions and rumors about him had allowed him to open up a little. Even Ushijima, across the ocean in California, noticed a marked difference in Tendo’s demeanor.

Semi just hoped you didn’t do anything to send him spiralling back into his insecurities.

“Yeah, I guess.”

It was easy for Semi to say that, but he had no idea what it was like, constantly worrying if people were being serious or if they were just waiting to pull the rug out from under him. Even now, he was fighting with himself to just get through the day, waiting constantly for you to change your mind and cancel the plans. Every time his phone lit up with your name, he expected it.

And yet, even after his classes ended and he arrived home, you didn’t. Just commenting that you would be MIA for a while while you cleaned the apartment and went to the store. And when you came back a few hours later, while he was binging Buzzfeed Unsolved videos, his heart leapt into his throat, but you were only telling him what you had gotten for him and to pick up anything else he might want on the way over.

The time couldn’t pass by fast enough while he busied himself packing as slowly as he could. He was already wearing sweatpants but brought a pair of basketball shorts just in case. A clean t-shirt and the other essential items he would need for the night went into a backpack, and when that was done he decided it was a good time to leave.

Unable to help himself, he sent you a text before he left, interrupting whatever you were already typing, the three little bubbles disappearing for a moment while you read his text.

T: ‘you sure you’re alright with this? i don’t have to come over’ Y: ‘?’ Y: ‘do u not want to!’ Y: ‘?*’ Y: ‘we can do this another time if you want’

He was typing before he could really think about the possibility that that might be the best option, his heart thumping harder than he liked in his chest, and he willed himself to take a deep breath. It was just two friends hanging out, watching horror movies together. Nothing more.

T: ‘no i do. was just making sure you were still ok w it.’ T: ‘leaving now to get snacks. your choices s u c k’ Y: ofc hurry up and get over here Y: ‘tf rude’

Locking the door behind him, he slung his bag onto his shoulder and sighed, hoping the night didn’t end as badly as his nerves were telling him it would.

Your doorbell rang an hour later, while you were in the middle of setting up your room for the binge. You were hoping he wouldn’t mind, but you didn’t want to make him uncomfortable either. It was hard to miss the nervousness and the way he seemed to shy away from you sometimes, especially when you did certain things like reach out to pull something off his hoodie or read something over his shoulder. But you wanted this to be as normal as possible, to prove to him you were genuine.

You liked Tendo. A lot.

He was funny and sweet and just as eccentric as you had expected. His jokes were off-color but not offensive, just sarcastic and witty and you giggled every time. The way his face lit up when he heard you sent your heart into a frenzy, and the way it fell and he seemed to shrink into himself a moment later hurt. It didn't feel like a rejection of you but instead a rejection of himself and you wondered if there was any way to help him understand that you didn’t want anything from him but for him to be himself.

Upon opening the door, you found it was only the pizza delivery man, and you smiled with disappointment, until you spotted a shaved red-head coming up behind him.

Tendo gulped when he spotted you in your open doorway, wearing woolen leggings and a t-shirt, exchanging a box of pizza for cash and smiling brightly at him over the man’s shoulder. Waving, he waited until the stranger was out of the way before he approached you.

“Hey,” he greeted, peering down at you before scanning the empty living room of your apartment over your head.

You were unsurprised to see the wariness in his eyes, bleeding into the smile he was forcing on his face. It was your first time seeing a look so fake on him and for the first time you wondered if this was really a good idea. But it was only movies. And you liked Tendo. It would be fine.

So you smiled and ushered him in with one hand, the box perched precariously on your other, and watched him shrink into himself like he always did when he came within touching distance of you until he had passed into the living room. Then he just stood there, peering around with that same suspicious look, eyes narrowed and mouth turned down at the corners.

“So, what do you think?” you asked, pretending you hadn’t seen it as you moved into the kitchen.

“It’s nice,” he answered, letting his bag hit the floor with a thump. The rest of the apartment was silent save for the heater going, and little by little he felt himself relaxing. “You didn’t have to go through all this trouble for little ol’ me, y’know.”

You giggled at the way he pointed at himself, wearing a cheesy grin as he walked into the kitchen. “Maybe not, but it’s been ages since I’ve been able to do anything like this. It’s as much for me as it is for you.” You punctuated your statement by poking him lightly in the chest, and he feigned pain.

“You wound me. And here I thought you were treating me special,” he moaned, leaning back against the counter and placing his hand over his forehead. He grinned a little hearing you giggle again, and then the pizza box hit his arm.

“I am treating you special, you goof,” you said, opening it up and letting the smell of cheese fill the kitchen. “With pizza. But I think we’d better take it into the bedroom, since that’s where we’ll be watching the movies. Just in case we fall asleep, you know,” you tacked on at the end, suddenly realizing how that might sound. Not that it meant anything, but again, you feared making him uncomfortable.

Absorbed in your thoughts, you missed the faint dusting of pink on his cheeks, clashing marvelously with his vibrant hair. You carried the box down to your bedroom with Tendo on your heels, eager to see your room. It was about what he expected from you-- a messy bed, a cluttered desk, clothes half in your laundry basket and half on the floor surrounding it. The TV sitting on your dresser was already set up with The Hills Have Eyes menu playing, volume muted. You set the box on the bed before smoothing the covers and crawling on.

Tendo hovered in the middle of your room, casting his eyes around nervously, looking for a chair or something to sit on. He definitely did not want to assume, but you patted the bed beside you, giving him a quizzical look.

“I’m not gonna bite, Tendo. Promise,” you said, and though you made it sound like a joke he could hear a line of seriousness at the core. Running his tongue over the back of his teeth, he walked slowly towards you, giving you every opportunity to change your mind, but you just looked impatient until he climbed on beside you. “Alright, now let’s get this started!”

Two movies in and the two of you had gotten pretty comfortable. Both of you had stretched out on the bed, but you had decided to lean up against the headboard with your pillows to support you while Tendo had opted to lay on his stomach with his head resting on his arms by your feet.

“Would you stop?” he laughed, pushing your foot away where it had been tapping incessantly at his shoulder. You were just doing it to annoy him, and you giggled at the irritated amusement in his voice.

The pizza box sat empty on the floor by the bed, but you found yourself craving something else to eat. When you hummed, Tendo looked away from the screen, rolling onto his side and propping his chin in his hand to watch you nibble at your lip. It was cute, he couldn’t lie, and the anxiety he had repressed by getting distracted by the movie came back slowly.

“What’s up?”

“I’m thinkin’ about...those chips,” you answered, and made to get up. You had to crawl over his long legs and almost fell off the bed as you gracelessly made your move, knee slipping off the small space between his leg and the edge of the mattress. Sticking your tongue out as he laughed at you, you pranced towards the door.

“Bring my bags too, would you?” he called, pausing the movie since you had forgotten. It had just started, and you were lucky that he was nice enough to do it, especially when he heard your voice carry back down the hallway.

“Kiss my ass, Tendo.”

He laughed at that, loud enough that you could hear it from the kitchen and over the crinkling of the bags as you rifled through them. In the end, you shrugged and carried them all back down to your room, along with a few drinks. Maybe you wouldn’t have to get up again for a little while.

You shivered when you stepped back into the room. It wasn’t much warmer than the rest of the house, and now your arms and toes were cold. The heater was already set as high as it would go and hardly touched the chill, and you cursed the cheap piece of crap.

“What, you cold?” he asked, pulling out a bag of the chips he had brought with him. The tab on a can of soda popped and he cursed as it fizzed over onto your blanket. “Shit, sorry.”

“No worries. Yeah, kinda. But the heater is already on full blast. Ugh,” you said, sitting beside him on the bed again. He was still wearing his hoodie, and up close he was warm, making you realize just how cold you were. You were just gonna have to crawl under your blankets because you would never survive the cold like that. “Wait…”

There was a tent on the screen where the movie had paused, and Tendo looked back and forth from it to you with curiosity. There was a calculating look on your face and he wasn’t sure he liked it. “Uh, what?”

There was no way he would agree to it. Way too intimate, right? But it really seemed like it’d be right up his alley, and it would be fun to build, and it would get you warm. It was the perfect idea really.

“Tendo, how do you feel about making...a pillow fort?”

The heater continued to buzz in the corner, overlaid by the slight static from the TV, while Tendo processed your question. His mouth had fallen open, brows furrowed while he stared at you in what could only be surprise, and you laughed nervously.

“Wha-- Seriously?”

“Um, you know what, nevermind. I guess it was a stupid idea. It just seemed like it might be fun and--”

He cut your babbling off with an excited wave of his arms, leaning forward into your space and in the light from the TV you could see a childlike happiness glowing in his eyes. “I’ve never made one but it sounds like fun. You know how to do it?”

Stunned by the turn of events, you nodded. “Well, sort of. Mine have always fallen down after a while though,” you admitted, standing up from the bed again. “We need chairs and books and all the blankets and pillows we can find. And the couch cushions. Probably.”

In no time flat you had everything gathered, with Tendou hovering around waiting for you to direct him. It was a pain to get everything set up, and you ended up using the bed since you didn’t have enough chairs. Moving the chairs all over the place until there was enough room inside and you could put the books down to seal the ‘walls’ was tedious, but it was worth it when Tendo crawled in to set up the cushions to seal the space beneath the bed. After padding the floor with several blankets to lay on, you stuffed the pillows from your bed in after Tendo. When you didn’t immediately crawl in after him, he poked his head out to see what you were doing.

“Well, we didn’t think this through at all, so now we gotta watch the movies on my laptop,” you said as you ejected the DVD from your player. The jingle of your computer booting up played and backlit your face in the glow, and you prayed it wasn’t going to go right into an update. It took a few minutes to start up, so you passed it to him while you plugged the power cord in and ran it into the fort.

You could hear the clicking of the mousepad and by the time you flipped off the light and crawled in beside Tendo, the movie menu was playing. You also realized just how cramped it really was with Tendo’s lanky form inside. There was just enough space for both of you, but you were going to have to either sit up with it in your lap or you were going to have to set it to the side of you and lay on your sides.

He was tense, staring determinedly at the movie playing and trying to avoid moving too much. Or so you guessed, anyway. Anytime you so much as shifted he would jerk away before relaxing, and you were a split second away from nixing the idea. A part of you was starting to wonder if it wasn’t you that was the problem, but if it was, why had he bothered to agree?

“You’re really warm, Tendo,” you said, trying to break the ice. It was an awkward and clumsy attempt, but maybe you could help him settle down if you showed him you weren’t uncomfortable first?

But that just made him pull further away, leaning against the couch cushions. “Oh, sorry.”

It was already warm and comfortable in your little fort, a light blanket thrown over your knees and warming your toes. And with him beside you, you were actually a little more than comfortable. “No,” you said, waving your hands frantically, “no, like, it’s nice. I’m finally warm.”

It was hard to tell in the washed out light of the laptop, but Tendo’s face turned a very bright shade of pink. He tugged the neck of his hoodie up over his nose and fixed his eyes firmly on the flickering violence, annoyed that he was overwhelmed by something so simple. Why did you have to be so damn cute?

But it did the trick, even if he didn’t know that was your intention. He finally relaxed and stopped flinching every time you shifted, trying to find a comfortable position. Sitting cross legged only worked for so long and Tendo noticed you moving around after a while, when your knee knocked his for the third or fourth time.

“You alright? You’re about to bring the whole fort down,” he commented around a mouthful of chips.

“Ah, well, my back is starting to hurt sitting up, I guess. I wanna lay down,” you said, sounding whinier than you meant to, following it up with a short stretch. It alleviated the pain for a moment, until you hunched over again.

He swallowed his chips and returned his eyes to the TV screen, thinking. On one hand, he wasn’t exactly comfortable. On the other, he had no idea what you were thinking. Did you want to abandon the fort?

But you didn’t say anything, fiddling with the blanket for a few moments as you tried to work up your courage. You damn sure didn’t want to tear down your fort-- it had taken you way too long to put the stupid thing up-- and if you said the idea of cuddling up with Tendo wasn’t appealing, you would surely go to hell for lying. The underlying problem was him. What would he say if you brought up the obvious solution?

You were taking too long to answer, so Tendo prompted you, pausing the movie. “Do you want to just get back on the bed again?”

“No,” you said, and then flinched. You had answered way too quickly and that somehow made him nervous and reassured at the same time. “This is really nice I just…I-know-that-you’re-kind-of-uncomfortable-and-I-don’t-want-to-make-you-more-uncomfortable.”

Tendou stared at you, unblinking as he tried to decipher your breathlessly rushed words. After a moment he laughed, still confused, but he could see the anxiety on your face. “I-- what? All I heard was uncomfortable, I think. But you don’t make me uncomfortable.”

Your heart thumped painfully in your chest as that weight left your shoulders. He was so intuitive it was almost scary. Even still, you had to make sure. “Oh, really? You always seem like...weird around me, I guess. I was starting to think I was pushing too hard, I guess?”

“Sorry,” he said, scratching the back of his head. His elbow brushed the sheet above you and he quickly dropped it. “I’m used to people being uncomfortable around me. Guess it just turned into a habit to avoid people I don’t know. So that I don’t freak them out.”

Not entirely true, given that he enjoyed messing with people, but it was true in your* case. It took you a moment to answer, and he started to worry that he had said too much.

“You don’t...make me uncomfortable, Tendo. You never did. You’re a weirdo but not...in a bad way,” you said, and glanced at him to gauge his reaction, worried he would take it in a negative light.

But he was smiling, eyes fixed on the paused movie and you bit your lip. He was way too attractive and you couldn’t fathom anyone who thought otherwise. Clearly they were just cowards.

“Well that’s a relief. It would make things pre-tty awkward right now if I did,” he said and bumped your shoulder. It felt like a whole planet was lifted off his shoulders with this revelation and he heaved a huge sigh. “So, if we don’t want to abandon the fort but our backs are about to crumble, what do we do?”

“Uh.” You blanched, having forgotten about that little hiccup. Your idea was embarrassing to think about let alone explain and if you hadn’t made him uncomfortable yet this was sure to.

“Uh,” he mocked, and twisted around like a snake so his face was in front of you, blocking the light from the screen. “Spit it out before we collapse.”

“Just-- um--” you stuttered, and he quickly realized whatever your idea was, it had you flustered. He was just about to start teasing when you picked up the laptop and set it to the side of you. Rolling over onto your side, you tucked your hand underneath your pillow and relaxed, feeling the pain immediately alleviate. “Now you lay down. If you want.”

Your heart was racing in your chest, waiting for him to do something. It was a long, long minute before he finally said anything, and it wasn’t what you expected. Not that you had any idea of what to expect.

“Uh, are you sure? I mean, we could just--” What was he thinking? This was exactly what he wanted and wasn’t it Semi who had said she wouldn’t ask if she didn’t want it? Did he really have to overthink everything? You were in a literal pillow fort watching scary movies with him, offering to let him cuddle up with you, and he still thought you weren’t sure.

“Well, unless you aren’t,” you said, and was that disappointment in your voice? No way.

“No no, no. I’m gonna take my hoodie off first, though. It’s way too warm in here now,” he said, backtracking quickly. Then again, maybe it was just him that was too hot. It was an actual dream come true, and he pinched himself quickly just to make sure he wasn’t asleep.

You rolled over onto your back to watch him struggle, his arms brushing the ceiling and walls of your warm little haven as he fought the hoodie. Your eyes widened as it finally came free, seeing the colorful swirls of ink covering his arms. “Holy shit.”

“Wha--?” he said, and turned to find you staring open mouthed at his tattoos. “Oh, right, I guess you haven’t seen these before, huh?”

“Nope,” you said, sitting up and squinting to see the undefined shapes in the faint light. It was almost cute the way he held his arm out to you hesitantly, like a child offering you a drawing to examine and praise. Taking it, you traced the lines covering his smooth, warm skin, trying to figure out what they were. But the shapes were undefinable in the faint light. You could make out splashes of blue and purple, red and pink, separated by black lines or faded together to make something. Part of you wanted to ask, but there was something mysterious about not knowing. “I can’t even tell what they are but god, Tendou, I know they’re gorgeous.”

He shivered at your featherlight touches, the feel of your fingers skimming delicately over his skin, and your words caused fire to erupt in his stomach and chest. His tattoos were something he was extremely proud of, one of the few things he had that made him feel confident, and hearing you compliment them made him feel so fucking good. Chucking his jacket out into the room, he returned to your side and the two of you got comfortable.

Pressing play on the movie for the 3rd time, the two of you fell silent. With your head below his chin, it was the perfect position for him to see the screen over you. You could feel the warmth rolling off of him, only an inch of space between his chest and your back, and both of you were well aware of it.

It was nearly impossible to focus on the movie, trying to reign in the urge to just slide back a little bit and mold yourself to him. Nibbling at your lip, you rolled just a little under the pretense of stretching and bumped into him. Just your arm into his, and he didn’t move away.

“You good? Need more space? I can crawl under the bed if you want,” he said, smirking at you. He thought he knew what you were playing at, but your next words confirmed it. It was the oldest trick in the book and, even though no one had ever used it on him, he had seen it at work with Semi and Shirabu too many times.

“Just stretching. I’m still a bit cold though,” you said, facing the TV again.

Suppressing a snicker, knowing damn well that wasn’t what you were after, he offered, “I can get you another blanket, if you need it.”

The silhouette of your shoulders fell, and you couldn’t hide the sigh that accompanied it. “It’s alright, Tendo. It’s not that bad.”

You really should have seen that coming, you guessed. The swell of hope and the crash of disappointment was painful in your chest, and you tried to focus on the movie again, ignoring the tempting warmth at your back. If he wasn’t interested, he wasn’t interested. It was cool.

Which was why you jumped when a weight settled over your side, a snicker filtering behind you as he molded himself to your back. It was slow, hesitant, and you would guess he was trying to make sure you were alright with it. Warmth seeped through your t-shirt and you sighed happily, shimmying back into him out of instinct, and this time you could feel his quiet laughter in his chest.

His arms were so long that he had to fold it in front of you, hand coming to rest just underneath your chin, and when you relaxed so did he. With his chin resting atop your head now, he asked, “Better? This is what you wanted, right?”

“Shut up,” you whined, hiding your face in your hand. It was embarrassing enough without him having to tease you about it. But you supposed it wouldn’t be Tendo if he didn’t make fun of you for everything. It was so easy after that to focus on the movie, now that you had gotten what you wanted. The snacks lay forgotten near your feet, not wanting to move and mess up the delicate balance that was now between the two of you.

It was tenuous and any small movement from either of you could send it toppling in either direction, and you weren’t even sure what it depended on. You knew for sure which way you would like to see it go, but it was just as comfortable the way it was.

Silence fell again until the movie ended, which was the only reason you moved. You could probably have fallen asleep like that, but you weren’t ready yet, wanting to bask in whatever you had with Tendo for a while longer.

When you sat up to change the next movie, Tendo rolled over onto his back, watching you fiddle around with it. Sweat beaded on the back of his neck and he shifted uncomfortably. Seemed you felt the same because you turned to look at him, an apology written on your face.

“Sorry, do you mind if I go change into shorts. It’s actually too warm for these now,” you said, setting the DVD case back on the pile. You felt like you were suffocating in your thick winter leggings now, but if he wasn’t okay with that then you would suffer a little longer. At least until you melted.

“Oh thank god you said something. I was about to die in these sweatpants, I swear,” he answered, fanning his face with his hand. You were pretty sure he was just exaggerating that though. “I don’t mind if you don’t.”

“Nope,” you said, popping the ‘p’, and crawled towards the escape flap, wincing at the sound of crunching and crinkling under your knees all of a sudden. “Oops.”

“Oh those had better not have been mine,” he whined, flashing the light of his phone towards the bag. He groaned, seeing his bag of doritos crushed. He could hear you snicker outside the sheet as you walked away and growled, “Watch it. Yours are still in here, _____.”

You opened a drawer as he finally came out as well and began rifling through his bag, pulling out the pair of shorts he’d packed. When you turned around with a pair of soft shorts in your hands, you found him standing awkwardly in the middle of your room again and laughed. “I’ll go change in the bathroom. I gotta use it anyway. I’ll be right back.”

Your footsteps receded down the hall and he raced to get changed before you came back. His sweats landed on his backpack and he shrugged at himself. What did it matter, so long as they weren’t on your floor?

The sound of the sink reached his ears just as he was climbing back into the fort, frowning at his crushed chips even as he shoved a handful into his mouth. He was so gonna make you pay for a new bag, especially because you had laughed. The door creaked open and the flap shifted, and he almost choked on his chips as he realized just how short your shorts were. Were your legs always that long? And smooth? And pretty? Shit.

“How are your chip fragments?” you joked as you made yourself comfortable beside him again. Your hair fanned out behind you and you gathered it up off the base of your neck, twisting it around so that it spread out above you instead. How the fuck was the back of your neck sexy*?

He was so screwed.

“Uh,” he replied. Smooth, Satori. Shaking his head, he tried to gather his thoughts and focus them literally anywhere else. It worked. Sort of. “Pointy. You owe me a new bag.”

You scoffed, smiling at the car full of vacationing teenagers on the laptop. “There’s like four other bags in here. Quit whining.”

But he wasn’t giving it up, throwing his bag into the corner and hopefully out of the way of your carelessness. Settling behind you like he had before, he once again left space between you, afraid now of how his body might react if he didn’t. “No, all of them suck.”

You definitely noticed the gap and wondered if he was just waiting for you to take the initiative, so you did. Before he could blink, you were once again molded to his chest, head tucked under his chin and knees folded around his. He tensed, fingers curling into a fist while he willed himself to chill.

His arm came down around you again, but you could feel how stiff he was. When you made to move forward again, to give him space, his arm locked, even pulling you back again and you grinned. With his arm now lit up properly by the light of the laptop, you realized you could see the tattoos more clearly, and began to trace the stars and fish on his arm.

“Aren’t these the spirit fish from Avatar?” you asked, skimming over the white and black koi. It was a watercolor piece, lacking the heavy lines like the ones on his other arm, and you felt him nod against the top of your head. “They’re gorgeous. Who’s your artist?”

“A friend of mine in Miyagi did those,” he answered, watching you continue to trail up his arms. Goosebumps were raising the fine hairs all over his body, your touches so gentle and intimate, your focus rapt. Higher up near his elbow was what appeared to be two jolly rogers, but they weren’t the normal ones. “Those are from a pirate manga I read in Jump,” he said before you could ask, and you smoothed your hand over them before sliding it back up near his hand.

His heart skipped a beat when your fingers curled into his palm, hesitating before you slipped them between his. He was sure you could feel his heart pounding away in his chest, unaware that you couldn’t because yours was racing fast enough that you were lightheaded. Folding his fingers down over your hand locked them together, but you didn’t try to pull away. If anything, you tried to cuddle up closer to him, dragging your hands so that they were pressed to your chest. It was the most intimate thing he had experienced in recent memory and if his heart didn’t slow down it was going to explode.

The movie wasn’t holding his interest and a new question cropped up in his mind, one he had wondered more than once before tonight and he couldn’t figure out why he thought of it now, but he latched onto it because otherwise he really thought he was going to combust. Besides, it would ease some of his insecurity if he got an answer.

“What took you so long to set this up, anyway? I kind of thought you had changed your mind for a while,” he said, staring at the screen. He was sort of taking it in, an anchor point so he didn’t get lost in his thoughts.

Your chest rumbled against his hand when you hummed, and your answer was so mundane and rational that he almost laughed. “Well a part of it was wanting to get to know you a bit before we did this. Didn’t want to invite a total stranger to spend the night, after all. And then it was just a matter of waiting for my roommates to freakin’ leave.”

“Oh, are your roommates actually gone*?” he asked in surprise. He had thought they were just out for the night and would be home-- probably not soon, given the time, but still. “Like, for the weekend?”

You hummed again in agreement, twirling the ends of your hair absently around your fingers. You were locked onto the movie, absorbed as Leatherface chased one of the characters he didn’t care about through the yard. He fell quiet, thinking you wanted to watch uninterrupted, but then you asked, “That’s alright, right? They would have just wanted to join in otherwise and they can’t stand horror movies either, so they would’ve just talked through it.”

Exactly like he was doing, he realized, and his face grew hot. Hopefully he hadn’t already annoyed you. He nodded, responding in a much quieter voice. “It’s fine. Was just surprised, I guess.”

For a while, neither of you said anything and Tendo managed to focus on the movie, feeling you jump and twitch every once in a while at scares you weren’t expecting. Unfortunately, those movements were brushing against areas that he really didn’t need them too and your shorts did nothing to diminish the curve of your ass against him or the slowly growing hard on he was getting. It didn’t help that every time he shifted even a little you would just follow him, as if he wasn’t pinned by your hand holding his.

But shit, if he didn’t move soon he was going to be screwed. The bathroom-- that would get him out of there before he embarrassed the fuck out of himself.

It was too late, though. You flinched and ground your ass back into him and he groaned before he could help it. You froze, he froze, he just really wanted to die.

“I-- Sorry. I’m really sorry,” he said, tugging at his hand to try and escape. He wasn’t sure what he was going to do, but the best option was probably to leave and transfer to a school in a whole different country. He could already hear your words now, an echo of so many times before, the sting of disappointment a familiar feeling around his heart.

“I’m sorry, Tendo. I just don’t see you that way.”

It was because he was a freak with a weird name and creepy eyes and-- fuck. It was high school all over again, being rejected by someone he genuinely thought liked him only to find out they were using him to get to Ushijima or pretending to as a fucking joke, only this time Ushijima wasn’t around and he had really gotten himself into it by agreeing to any of this.

But you were refusing to let his hand go, holding so tight he thought his fingers might break, saying his name until he came back down from his panicked high.

“Tendo, Tendo, calm down, please,” you were begging. You had rolled onto your back, unable to sit up because you were using both your hands to keep him from jumping up and taking the whole fort down. You could see it on his face when he finally heard you, wide vermillion eyes locking with yours while his heart continued to race.

He remained propped up on his elbow, ready to run at the first opportunity, and you almost felt bad for antagonizing him as much as you had. If you had known your teasing was going to get him this riled up, you would have tried a different tactic-- or not tried it at all. Maybe you had pushed too far too soon, and the skittish look in his pretty eyes worried you that you had ruined it.

“It’s alright, Tendo,” you said, trying to keep your voice quiet and soothing. It felt an awful lot like you were dealing with a wary animal-- like a coyote or a fox. When the insistent tension in his arm faded is when you relaxed your death grip on his fingers.

The sound of the movie was too loud in the unnatural silence between you, and you rolled over to turn it down. When it was only a background buzz, you turned back to him. He was still staring at you without blinking, his eyes devoid of the panic from earlier but now they were eerily blank.

“I’m so sorry,” he said, deadpan. He flinched when you took his hand again, forehead scrunching in confusion. “I don’t understand. There’s no way you-- What are you doing?”

It was your turn to be confused, pursing your lips at him. He sounded so lost-- and wary again-- like a child. For the first time, you wondered what his childhood had actually been like. He talked an awful lot about Ushiwaka and Semi, and the volleyball club in general, but you heard nothing outside of that. It made you suspicious now.

“What am I doing?” you parroted, finally sitting up. Your joined hands fell into your lap and you stared down at them, petting the back of his hand with your free one. “Do you not want me to?”

His words were stuck in his throat, trapped by the lump there, and he swallowed thickly. His mouth felt like cotton, and he shook his head, croaking out, “It isn’t that. I just don’t understand why.”

“Why what?” you asked, gentle amusement in your voice. There was no teasing, no malicious undertones that he could hear, like you were waiting to spring the final part of the joke on him. And he was listening for it. After years of dealing with it, he had learned to recognize it in people’s words and on their faces. The way their lips would curl and their eyes would narrow just before cruelty would spew from their mouths, he knew the tells and you--

Had none.

There was nothing but open curiosity and nervousness-- and hope. A lot of hope swirled in your eyes and he swallowed again. He was just going to disappoint you. If not tonight then tomorrow, if not tomorrow then next week. It was going to happen--

“Why do you like me? How do you like me? I’m-- weird. And you’re--” He gestured frantically up and down at all of you. You weren’t anything he was-- a freak. With freaky eyes and a freaky name and a freaky personality.

“I-- um,” you said, and you couldn’t help but smile. There was clearly a lot of baggage with him, and his questions made that obvious. It was likely too much to unpack tonight, especially when you were still only just getting to know each other. Reassurance was what he needed, and that was something you could offer on the spot. “You’re funny...and sweet and...very good looking. Your eyes are so pretty. Um, there’s also the fact that you’re the only person who would watch these movies with me, which earns you a lot of points, in my opinion,” you said, tapping your lips as you stared up at the ceiling.

Your face was on fire as you listed things off the top of your head, your throat tight with anxiety as you wondered what he would say in response. They were all surface level things for now, but you knew underneath the armor that there was a lot more to Tendo, and you hoped you had a chance to discover it.

He groaned low in his throat, not from disgust but from a deep seated need to believe you meant those things. His forehead met your shoulder, his fingers squeezing yours. He didn’t fight it when you eased back down, following after you without a word, leaving his face hidden in your neck. He was still trying to gather his thoughts and calm his overworked heart. It would be so easy to reject you and be on his way, to return home and beat himself up for letting himself get too close and too comfortable with you when he knew nothing would come of it.

Except something had come of it and he wasn’t sure what to do now. Semi and Ushijima always told him he was too closed off and that someone was going to come around who actually liked him and his ‘weird ass’ and that he was going to lose that chance because of some stupid high school assholes. Was he though? He wanted to believe you, wanted to trust you, and slowly he relaxed, his stress leaving him in a long, tired exhale.

“You mean it?” he whispered against your neck, and you could feel his lashes tickle your skin when he blinked. His arm was heavy where his hand rested on your stomach, fingers intertwined with yours, and you squeezed his hand as tight as you could.

“I do. I like you and really want a chance to get to know you better,” you whispered back, and it suddenly felt like no one existed but the two of you, protected from everything in the world outside by a few sheets and each other's warmth. There would be things to discuss and hiccups to overcome, but you could worry about those tomorrow. In that moment, all you wanted was to prove to Tendo you wanted him.

Maybe it was your words, whispered softly into the dark, or your hand gripping his for dear life, or the way you let him cling to you like a lifeline, or maybe it was a combination, but when he pulled back from his hiding place and found you staring at him, he slotted his lips against yours without thinking. Your lips parted almost immediately, free hand sliding out from between your bodies to tangle in the close cropped hair at the nape of his neck and you used it to pull yourself closer.

When your tongue poked out to glide across the seam of his lips, he let you in on a breath, tilting his head to deepen the kiss. His eyes were squeezed shut tight as your tongue met his, praying that what was happening wasn’t a dream, and he wasn’t expecting it when you gasped and pulled away all of a sudden.

His eyes popped open and he stared down at you with panic. “What? Did I do something wrong?”

“I-- forgot you have a tongue ring,” you said, and the laughed. “Fuck, that’s hot.”

He blinked like an owl, eyes wide as he processed your words. It wasn’t something that he had ever expected to hear in his life, let alone from the girl he was half-making out with in a freakin’ pillow fort. He suddenly wondered if his life had turned into a Shounen Jump manga.

“Well, so are you,” he said, and leaned in for another kiss.

It was kind of hot to see him confident and you felt heat pool in your stomach, starting to bleed further down as his tongue slipped into your mouth again. He tasted like the root beer he had been drinking all night, and you couldn’t resist toying with the piercing, swirling your tongue around it and listening to him moan against your mouth.

Your shirt had ridden up your stomach as you moved around, trying to get closer to him, and neither of you realized it until Tendo’s hand smoothed over your skin. He froze mid-kiss, waiting for your reaction, and was unsurprised when your hand grabbed his.

What he didn’t expect was for you to guide it upwards, letting go when you hit your ribs to cup his cheek. Pulling back just enough that he could speak against your lips, he asked, “Are you sure?”

“Frankly, Tendo,” you said, and kissed him again before you continued, “I haven’t wanted anyone this bad in forever. Even if we wake up tomorrow and change our minds, I am fucking sure right now.”

He groaned, letting his hand hike your shirt up a little higher until his hand cupped under your breast. He wasn’t sure when you had taken your bra off, or maybe you hadn’t been wearing one the whole time, but there was nothing impeding his skin from caressing yours. Your breast was so soft in his hand, topped by a pretty pink nipple that he couldn’t resist pinching. You mewled underneath him, pulling your shirt up to uncover your other breast and he moved to that one, doing the same and feeling your nipple harden at his touch.

“Fuck, you’re so pretty,” he rasped, gazing down the length of your body. Your thighs were clenched, and his hand migrated lower, fingertips skimming over your skin.

The heat that was pooling earlier erupted when they met the waistband of your shorts, but he paused, looking unsure again.

“Tendo, I’ll show you how much I want this,” you whispered and grabbed his hand. He was still hesitant, looking at your face as you slid his hand into your panties, and his eyes widened.

“You’re so wet,” he groaned, his fingers gliding over your soaked lips, spreading your slick all over them. His fingers quickly found your clit, circling it and you squeezed his hand between your thighs, hips jerking. “All because of me? I’m flattered.”

Teasing at your soaked opening, he waited for you to balk but you only twitched, panting against his lips before he sunk one finger in, your walls parting easily. You moaned and he swallowed it in a kiss, his tongue filling your mouth again. It wasn’t long before he was fitting a second finger, crooking them up and grazing your sweet spot, his thumb taking over massaging your clit as he pumped them inside you. Your arousal was already high enough that you could feel your orgasm coming on, and you pulled away to announce it.

“T-Tendo, gonna--” You gasped when he forced them in deeper, a mischievous smirk on his face as he prodded your cervix. “How-- fuck, your fingers are so long,” you whined, toes curling.

“Think you can take one more?” he asked, already fitting the tip of a third finger in. But it was only when you nodded, tears pricking the corners of your eyes that he slipped it in. Your teeth dug into your lip before they parted in a soundless cry.

The coil snapped on the first thrust and he groaned, drinking in your face as he tipped you over the edge. No one had ever cum so prettily for him before and he wanted to see it again.

But only if you wanted it. His cock throbbed painfully in his shorts when he pulled his fingers from your twitching hole, feeling you shudder against him. Examining his glistening fingers in the screen light, he slid one experimentally into his mouth and moaned. “You taste so good, princess.”

You gasped at the pet name, a warmth unrelated to the one between your legs blooming in your chest. He said it was such reverence that you flushed, hoping he’d say it again at some point. Never had anyone called you that before, at least in that context.

When he laid back down beside you, his erection brushed against your leg and he stifled a groan. He was wearing boxers but the friction against his cock was still a pleasurable sensation. Not as much as your hand might be--

Speaking of hands, he nearly jumped out of his skin when you cupped him, squeezing and kneading up the length of him confined in his clothes. A shaky breath ripped out of him, the result of him barely containing a moan, and his long fingers wrapped around your wrist to stop you.

“That’s alright, _____. You don’t have to--” But you weren’t listening and the pressure felt too good. His head fell back, eyes fluttering closed, content to let you literally massage his dick until you started tugging at his shorts. He stopped you more insistently then, pulling your hand away. “Wait a second. Let me get ‘em off since you’re so eager, princess.”

He pulled his shirt over his head first, because it was getting way too hot in there anyway, and then kicked his shorts and boxers off into the dark corner. His cock bobbed against his stomach as he rolled onto his side again, leaking precum already.

Your hand was soft against his stomach, roaming over the hard planes of his abs and down further, until it wrapped lightly around his head.

And froze.

“What the-- Tendo, what are those?” you asked in a high pitched, startled tone. Before he could answer, you let go and rolled onto your back, exposing him to the light and you thought for sure you had died and gone to heaven.

It wasn’t just his arms that were covered in ink. His shoulders, chest, and sides were all covered in it as well, swirls and splashes of color interrupted by splotches of black or white or skin. You could hardly make out what the images were in the flickering, inconsistent light, but you recognized flowers and circles, and on his pec you were pretty sure there was a scene of a lake bathed in moonlight. And as your eyes followed the path of colors down, you landed on the thing that had startled you in the first place.

“Those are--” you breathed, taking his cock into your hand again. There was a ball at the tip, covered in precum, and you knew if you traced down, you would find another just below the crown. Further down on his shaft were five horizontal barbells in a row, and you recognized it as a Jacob’s Ladder. “Fuck me.”

“Gladly,” Tendo quipped and pounced. He settled between your legs and tugged your shorts down over your hips, and you had to hold your legs up to let him pull them the rest of the way off. He was too tall to sit straight up without brushing his head against the ceiling, but he braced back on his arms when you grabbed his shaft again. He groaned when you fondled the ball below his crown, shuddering at the intense pleasure. It was one of the major reasons he’d gotten it- to enhance the sensations. But the feel of your fingers gliding over his tip, gathering the precum and nudging the ball was something else entirely. “Holy shit, that feels amazing.”

His voice sent shivers through you, deep and raspy and way too needy. But you were unsure of what would hurt him, so you kept your touches light, feeling his thighs tense under yours, his fingers squeezing your calves as he let you explore. Before long though, he was pulling your hand away, pinning it down at your side. “Can’t keep that up, princess. I need more, if you’re alright with it,” he said, letting his cock settle against your cunt.

The piercings were warm and pronounced against your folds, and you shuddered when the ball under his head grazed your clit. The thought of them inside you, rubbing all along your walls as he fucked you was too much and you could feel yourself growing wetter, your pussy drooling for it.

“Yes, Tendo, please. I want it, I want to feel them inside me,” you begged, rocking your hips. The stimulation was mind blowing and your walls clenched, empty and needy for him to fill you up. And he would, his cock was huge-- he still had room for more piercings below the ones he had. You had no doubt you would be stretching to take him and you keened in the back of your throat.

“I want you to call me Satori, princess. And I need you to let me know if it’s uncomfortable,” he said, pressing the tip of his cock into your sopping hole. “Sometimes they make it hurt, but you’re so fucking wet I don’t think it will. You really like these, huh?”

You were really just answering his question as you said yes, but a stream of them fell out of your mouth as he pushed the rest of his cock inside you, encouraging him to continue. The stretch was so good, your walls splitting easily for him, and you could feel every ball just like you had imagined grazing against your walls. The ball at his slit rested snugly against your cervix, and you didn’t even realize you were screaming as you came, hips jerking in his hands as he let you ride it out.

He was staring at you with what could only be awe, his mouth slack and eyes wide with surprise. “Holy fuck, princess, did you just cum?”

Your breaths were coming in pants as your mind spun, trying to come down from the unexpected high. It came on so suddenly you had no time to prepare, and tears slid down your cheeks. “F-Feels so good,” you whispered, fingers digging into the blanket beneath you. “Satori, oh my god.”

“Are you alright? We can stop--” he said, but you shook your head frantically, locking your ankles around his back, and he laughed under his breath. You sure were something else. He knew for a fact no one had ever come just from him sliding into them and a swell of pride filled his chest. “No? Alright, whatever you want, princess. Can I move?”

This time you nodded and he was slow as he pulled back, making sure you were okay. You were so tight around him from your orgasm, your walls fluttering with overstimulation, but your back arched when he stuffed himself back in, a breathy moan slipping out of you. Hiking your legs higher up on his hips, he bent over you, gathering your hands and pinning them above your head, lacing his fingers with yours. His lips met yours as he thrust into you slowly, grinding deep and stifling a moan. Once again you were playing with his tongue ring, flicking it as you suckled on his tongue. The fort-- and probably the room-- was filled with the wet slap of his hips on yours every time he drove his cock into you, drowning out the low buzz of the forgotten movie still playing. He was being careful, waiting for you to stop being so sensitive, and he knew you were ready when you arched into his chest and pulled away.

“So good, Satori,” you murmured against his lips, hips rising to meet his. Your eyes were glazed and fucked out, tears still flowing and you could already feel the start of another orgasm, but he was moving too slow. The drag and pull of his piercings had almost all of your attention, the ball at his tip constantly tapping your cervix, making your toes curl with every thrust. “You’re so big, and those-- fuck-- piercings feel so good inside me. I can feel them all everywhere.”

He snickered darkly at that and kissed your cheek. “You wanna feel even better, kitten?” he whispered into your ear, nipping the shell. He could feel you nod against his cheek, nails digging into his hands where he kept them pinned above your head, and then he was letting them go and pulling out of you. You whined, staring up at him in dismay, but he already had your thighs in his hands, prodding you to roll over. “Trust me, pretty girl. On your stomach, just like that.”

It was a bit difficult to get comfortable, but he grabbed a pillow and jammed it beneath your hips before settling with his legs outside of yours. And when you shook your ass, begging him to hurry up, he couldn’t deny you, not when he wanted to be back inside your tight heat so badly.

“Holyshitholyshitholyshit,” you whined, high-pitched and breathless as he finally filled you again. His thighs trembled as he forced himself not to just stuff himself into you, you were so tight. And the way you were crying and shuddering beneath him wasn’t helping, especially when you gasped his given name like a prayer. “*Satori, oh my god.”

If you thought those piercings felt good before, you were in heaven now. Everyone of them dragged slowly over the front wall of your cunt, grinding into your sweet spot and you had to bite the pillow to keep from outright screaming. And he was so, so, so big inside you, but with your legs trapped between his there was nothing you could do but take him. Against your will, your legs kicked, hitting him in the back as you wailed into the pillow, tears streaming down your cheeks in an endless flood.

He snarled into your ear as he planted his elbows beside your head, plastering himself to your back. “You are so fucking tight, princess. How do those piercings feel now?”

“So good so good so good,” you babbled, circling your hips back on his dick to get any friction you could. The orgasm that had been building came back ten fold just from him hilting inside of you and you knew that if he fucked you like this you would be cumming in seconds. “‘Tori, please move, please please please.”

Your needy begging made his cock twitch and you whimpered as he slowly pulled out of you and pushed back in, intentionally slow to let you feel everything. The pleasure was ebbing and flowing, building and falling because he wasn’t moving fast enough, but you couldn’t bring yourself to ask him to go faster, not when you could feel him so clearly. Every time he bottomed out, he made sure to grind down into you, nudging your cervix with the tip of his cock so he could feel you clench suddenly around him. It never failed to make him moan, your slick walls gripping him so tightly as he dragged himself back out. He wanted to make your pussy his new home and barring that he was going to fuck the shape of his cock into you.

“Tell me what you need to make you cum, princess,” he whispered into your ear. He knew what he needed, but he was still learning what would make you feel good.

Releasing the pillow from your teeth, the first thing you did was moan out his name again as he buried himself inside you again. You were so close to cumming, your clit throbbing with need and if he even brushed it you were going to be gushing all over him. You gasped as he thrust a little harder than before.

“If you don’t answer me I’ll just keep going like this, kitten. I can go for hours, if you want,” he whispered, warm against your ear. That made you twitch underneath him, and he chuckled. “You like the sound of that? We’ll try it another time. Right now, I need you to tell me where you want me to cum and how I can make you cum, okay?”

His words were dark and sweet and coaxing, and you were sure you had never whined so much in your whole life. “Touch me, please, Satori. I wanna cum all over your cock and pretty piercings while you cum in me, oh fuck.”

Bracing himself on his elbow, he forced his hand beneath your stomach, aided by you lifting your hips, and you whimpered when he finally, finally brushed your clit. It was all it took and you had to bite the pillow again as you creamed all over his cock, whiting out and screaming into it as you shuddered and jerked. He eased you through it, leaving his cock buried inside you while he fondled your clit, listening to you whimper and moan. It was a good thing you had hidden your face because you would surely have woken the whole complex up otherwise.

He groaned into your ear as you massaged his cock, so tight that you launched him into his own orgasm, cumming inside you as you had asked. He remained still inside of you even after you had relaxed, leaving small kisses all over your hair before he leaned down to rest his head on the pillow. He had fucked you so slowly that he hadn’t broken a sweat, and yet he was still out of breath and panting. His head swam for several more minutes, until you shifted beneath him. But you didn’t move like you wanted him to get off.

Instead, you turned to look at him, a lazy, blissed out grin on your face and said, “Holy shit, that was so amazing. I’ve never cum so many times.”

“So were you. I’ve never made someone cum so many times,” he admitted, and replayed the way you came just because he had filled you. That was something he was unlikely to ever forget. He brushed some hair out of your face before leaning in to kiss you. It was slow and gentle, belying how tired the two of you now were, and he could see you were ready to fall asleep. “Gonna pull out of you now, princess. Need you to stay nice and relaxed, okay?”

You nodded, your eyes closing and winced as he slid from your ruined hole. A stream of cum followed after and he took a moment to appreciate it, allowing a smirk to steal across his face. There was no doubt you were his now, at least for a little while, and he committed it all to memory before gently gripping your shoulders. “We should really get cleaned up, then we can go to sleep.”

You grumbled cutely but let him help you up, the both of you stumbling blindly to the bathroom. Sleepiness was a thick fog, and you got cleaned up as quickly as possible before returning to the room. The two of you stood in the doorway, looking at the mess of nonsense covering the bed, and then you looked at Tendou.

“Let’s just sleep in there,” you suggested, taking him by the hand. He let you lead him over, watching the way your ass swayed as you crawled into the fort for hopefully the final time that night. In the few minutes it had taken him to get in after you, you had already pulled a blanket over your legs and were setting up the next movie to play. Not that you would be watching it, but he understood it was the principle of the thing. This was a movie marathon and it just wouldn’t do to fall asleep without being in the middle of one.

Once he’d gotten comfortable behind you, you rolled over and splayed out across his chest, startling him. He had expected to curl himself around your back while you went to sleep, but now you were tracing what lines you could see on his chest in the thin light. His hand rested on your waist, the other tucked behind his head, and he closed his eyes, comfortable with your warmth and weight in his arms.

“Satori,” you murmured, your hand falling flat right over the picture of the lake. “I really do like you.”

He laughed at that, and you could feel it rumble in your ear, deep in his chest. He was clearly as tired as you were, but you needed to say it. There was something in your half asleep brain that would not stop telling you to say it, and you were in no position to fight it.

“I figured as much, princess. Three orgasms are hard to fake, especially around a dick as big as mine,” he answered, and you blanched for a moment before erupting into laughter. He watched you through narrow eyes, fondness bubbling in his chest, until you settled back down against him. “You’re absolutely gorgeous, you know that?”

“So’re you,” you murmured. The nagging had stopped now that you had said what you needed too, and you were falling asleep quickly. “Don’t be gone when I wake up tomorrow, okay?”

“It already is tomorrow, and I’ll be here. There’s nowhere else I wanna be anyway,” he answered, letting his eyes close as well. With your comfortable weight on his chest and your even breathing mixing with the buzzing of the movie in the background in his ears, he drifted to sleep in no time, for once not worrying about what tomorrow would bring.

⇥ masterlist

⇥ taglist: @visaintes, @kunimwuah

#tendo x reader #tendou x reader #tendo satori x reader #satori tendo x reader #tendou satori x reader #satori tendou x reader #haikyuu x reader #.monster

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atsukashii · 3 years

Note

Hi! I love your writing so very much 🥰

For the event, could I possibly get: Tirza x Midoriya + she/her pronouns + ☀️ + green

Thank you thank you 🥺💕☺️

how long do I have to wait how many nights do I have to pass

✘ he was the one who got away, but now the number one pro hero has returned to japan, and come home to you

✘ GENRE: fluff

✘ WARNINGS: none

✘ WORD COUNT: 1.4k

To the world the name Izuku Midoriya was synonymous with the pro hero Deku. But to you, Izuku Midoriya is synonymous with sorrow, desperation and hurt. To you, Izuku Midoriya is the one who got away.

You’d been by his side since elementary school, where Katsuki Bakugou had coined the name Deku, which caught on in the opposite way than what he had initially intended it to be interpreted. You had been friends with the shy, hero crazed boy who had helped you draw your hero costume and equipment when you had decided you both were going to be pro heroes. You had been by his side as this quirk he was supposedly ‘born-with’ had manifested. And you knew, from the moment you saw All Might talking to him, just who’s quirk he had inherited.

You had been by Izuku’s side from your earliest memories, and you had loved him for as long as you could remember. You’d loved him for so long, and you were planning on telling him the moment you had finished your studies but never got the chance, because he’d left for the U.S a day later, working at an agency courtesy of Professor David Shield. And you had let him go, and took your heart with him.

Those six months had turned into three years, and now he was back.

“Can you please at least say hello to him? That’s all I'm asking here,” Your friend Ochako pleads from next to you, and you finally turn away from the bar to face her. You had been dragged out to a bar by your friend, only to discover the whole thing was an official ‘welcome home’ party for your first love that you hadn’t seen in years. So you’d reacted like any mature person, and hidden amongst all the bodies at the bar, cradling the same glass of water because you had work tomorrow and couldn’t afford to turn up hungover.

“I will,” you reply, looking over across the room at the green haired man laughing along with a bunch of your old high school friends. You give Ochako a pointed look as you swirl back around on your stool. “Later.”

“For fucks sake, even Bakugou is over there. Ba-ku-gou!” She combats, waving her hands to emphasise her point.

“Good for him.” She huffs out a breath of frustration at your antics but really, you don’t want an audience when you first talk to him, because you don’t know what is going to come out of your mouth. Will it be what your heart wants to say, that you missed him every single minute he was gone, or your head, where you’ll just simply say welcome back and move on with your life. You weren’t willing to take that gamble in front of your closest friends.

“Go have fun, I’ll talk to him later, I promise.” You swear, and even hold out your pinky which makes your friend let out a shocked laugh.

“Why don’t I believe you?” she asks, and you simply shrug, watching as she shifts through the crowd towards the table and the star of honour. The minute you know you’re out of eyesight and earshot, you leave your glass on the table, grab your jacket and sneak out the side door of the complex. Inhaling the chilled night air, you hesitate in the alleyway of the bar, letting yourself revel in the silence of the outside world. Getting used to having Izuku was going to take a while, especially considering he would no doubt be visiting his mother, who still lives next door to your own. You could never escape him, and why should that change even if you want it to? You only take a step further into the alleyway before the door bangs open behind you.

“Y/n?” His voice is deeper than you remembered it, but then again, he had been only a high school graduate when you’d spoken to him last. Slowly you turn around to face him, taking in Izuku’s face one inch at a time. Freckles still dusted his nose and cheekbones, and those deep emerald green eyes still glowed like sea glass - stop, you mentally plead. Don’t go down this road.

“I thought it was you. I saw Uraraka talking to you at the bar, and I wanted to see you before you left.” He’s taller too. You’d been the same height through most of your schooling, but now he towered over you by at least a foot. As Izuku stops under the dim light on the wall, you notice the undercut he now has and hate how it makes goosebumps break out on your skin.

“How have you been?” He asks, one of his hands clutching his other wrist in a nervous tick that holds your attention. How have you been? How have you been… miserable, lonely, lovesick, missing you… but you can’t say that. So instead you muster all the confidence in you to tell him the opposite, that you’ve been fine.

“I-” Your voice breaks on the word and you feel the world around you freeze. Your heartbeat echoes through your head and the happiness on Izuku’s face shatters and pain flickers to life in his eyes as he looks at you. A scarred hand reaches up and gently caresses your cheek and only then do you notice that you’re crying.

And the moment you recognise their existence, your chest heaves and you burst at the seems. The gruttal sob that leaves your lips has Izuku lunging forward and bringing you into his arms. Burying your face into his chest, you don’t try to stop what you’re feeling, and just let it run its course as you listen to him talk.

“I’m so sorry Tirza.” He repeats over and over like a mantra, softly running his hand over your hair whilst holding you close to his chest. Once your sobs cease and your tears slow do you finally trust yourself to talk.

“I missed you,” you get out, stepping out of embrace so that you can look at him properly, and gage his every reaction. If you’re going to get your heart ripped out, you’d at least like to try and see it coming.

“I missed you so much, but I couldn’t tell you. I missed you, but I was so proud and happy for you, because you were doing what you loved and even though I loved you, I didn't want to try and take you away from what you were born to do.” You try to explain, knowing you're making a mess of it all, but still trying to get it all off your chest. Izuku’s green eyes blink at you owlishly for a second, and fear enters your body for a second. But only for a second.

Because in the next, Izuku has your hand in one of his, and his lips on your own. Your eyes widen in surprise at the sudden affection, and you carefully place your hands on his shirt to push him away? To pull him closer? You’re unsure, but when he finally pulls back and looks down at you with so much adoration, your heart almost stops in your chest.

“I’m so sorry I left. I wanted to tell you how I felt back in highschool, but then I got offered a placement in the U.S. I almost didn’t take it too, but then I knew you would kick my ass if I didn’t,” Izuku rambles and you nod, knowing fully well that you would have. “And then I was going to come back after six months but they asked me to stay longer, and then I came to visit, but your mother said you hadn’t been back home since you graduated.” You cringe at the memory, knowing you hadn’t gone back because you didn’t want to be asked about him.

“But I get it.” Izuku finishes, pushing your stray hair back from your face. “It’s the same reason I went and sat on the beach when I missed home.” Because across it was you. “I’ve loved you since I was in middle school, and I’m sorry it took me so long to say it.” You let out a shocked laugh at his words, which turns into a soppy one as you grin at the man in front of you. He was home, that’s all you’d wanted, and now it was staring you in the face. Him. It had always been him.

“I love you Izuku. So so much.” You say, crying into your laughter as he joins you.

“We’re idiots for waiting this long,” He groans, leaning his head on your shoulder, and another laugh slips from your mouth, but one that actually has you smiling.

“The biggest idiots to ever live.”

a/n: Thank you for your kind words anon, you get a big MWUAH from me :) i didn't mean for this to have an angsty start, but oops... also i think these are getting longer and longer. Note to self, you can't write short drabbles for shit. Looks like its full length fics for me

✘ EVENT STATUS : OPEN ✘

#special event 🧚‍♀️✨#lols writes #izuku midoriya #midoriya izuku #izuku midoriya x reader #izuku midoriya x you #izuku midoriya fluff

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kroerms · 3 years

Text

Half-way (Part two)

pairing: Akaashi Keiji x y/n (gender neutral, I think I stayed clear of using any pronouns for reader, please correct me if I made a mistake)

genre: angstish with a little bit of an open ending

warnings: aftermath of a break-up. Mentions of unhealthy coping strategies (bad eating habits, kinda isolation), usage of the word death twice, my bad writing skills ^^

a/n: this is part 2 out of 3 of this fic. I really love interactions very much, so feel free to tell me what you think of this :) Reblogs are greatly appreciated. Part 3 will follow some time this week I think :)

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Two weeks have passed by since “the dining table incident”, as you call it. Your days consist of laying in Atsumu’s guest room, refusing to exit it. If it wasn’t for Atsumu bringing you food twice a day and sitting next to you on the bed until you’ve eaten all of it, you would probably have starved to death by now. You just don’t have the energy to go out and do stuff. You just want to lay in bed with the blinds closed and reminisce about Keiji and you and how it all began.

Keiji and you met way back when you first moved to Tokyo. You were a very shy, very anxious, and most of all, very lost young person, trying to find your way to the little bookstore your friend told you about. To be fair, you never were big on orientation. Your father used to say you’d get lost on the way to your bathroom if it weren’t for your flat being so...cozy…

So you were just wandering around the streets of the city, looking like a lost puppy and -just your luck- it started to rain cats and dogs. And of course, you being you, the new umbrella you bought was sitting at home. Just as you found refuge under a hotel entrance, hugging yourself to find some sort of comfort and already wet to the bone, a voice next to you spoke. “Excuse me, but is this your phone?”

You slowly turned to face the person attached to the deep, raspy voice. You locked eyes with a tall, very handsome dark haired man with an unreadable facial expression, holding a (your!) phone in his hand.

“Oh my god, could this day get any worse?” you said, anger evident in your voice as you inspected the broken screen of your very new phone.

“Seems like Murphy’s law strikes again.” The man next to you spoke.

“Huh?”, you looked at the man with furrowed brows. You were absolutely not in the mood to entertain a stranger right now. You let your eyes wander over the young man standing next to you. His dark hair was wet and drops of rain ran down his forehead. His blue eyes were soft and his smile seemed genuine.

“What I mean to say is, it seems that your day is not going all too well, considering you kinda said so yourself. So - Murphy's law.” He smiled at you again, wider this time.

“Oh, well yes, it seems like everything is going wrong today, that is right indeed.” You answered, a small smile making its way to your lips. You bowed to the man with no name.

“Thank you very much for saving my phone. My name is y/n, may I ask yours?”

“Name’s Akaashi Keiji. Nice to meet you y/n. This may be overstepping a bit considering you don’t know me. But would you let me take you out for a coffee to cheer you up?” Keiji’s smile widened at your nodding.

“That would be very nice of you, thank you very much, Akaashi.” you answered shyly.

“Please, call me Keiji.”

You nodded again, a smile spreading across your cheeks.

Keiji led you to a small café. Ironically, the café was right next to the bookstore you were looking for. You giggled as you noticed, making him look at you in confusion.

“Sorry, it’s just funny how I was looking for that store right here for hours today and then I meet a stranger who brings me exactly where I wanted to go.”

“Well, this is fate then, don’t you think?” Keiji offered you an even wider smile as before. You didn’t think it was possible but he became more attractive with every minute you spent together.

The two of you sat at the café for quite a while. Keiji asked you why you moved to Tokyo and you asked him about his job. Keiji seemed very interested in you and you couldn't take your eyes off of him. His entire being intrigued you. It became clear very fast that the two of you had a lot in common. For one, you both liked to read. He told you about his friends and about his time in highschool, you told him about your family and your dreams. Time seemed to fly by, without neither him nor you noticing. It wasn’t until the waitress asked the two of you to leave because the shop was closing that you checked the time on your phone.

“Oh, it’s late already. And I didn’t even get to go to that bookstore,” you say, blushing slightly "don’t get me wrong though, I really enjoyed your company, you actually did cheer me up today Keiji. I really appreciate the effort.”

“Oh, I am sorry you didn’t get to go to that store. It’s actually really cute and they have lots of antiques as well. If you let me, I would like to take you on a date there some time? Maybe Saturday afternoon, say 2pm, what do you say?” Keiji’s eyes held something similar to hope in them. And who were you to destroy that? So you agreed.

The rest was pretty much history.

Keiji and you took each other out on different dates almost every other day for two months before he asked you to be his on a late sunny afternoon the two of you spent sitting and reading to each other in the park. The kiss that followed was a bit reluctant at first but tender and passionate nonetheless.

After that, the both of you became almost inseparable. You met his friends, he met yours and a little after a year the two of you moved in together. Everyday spent with Keiji was filled with love. From cooking dinner together to waking up next to him, his arm slung over your side, chest flush against your back, everything felt like home. Keiji became a home to you when you weren’t even looking for one.

Going through all these memories that connect the two of you makes you tear up again. You just wish for Keiji to come back to you. But since the break up you haven’t heard anything from him. It is killing you, at least that’s how it feels. But death would be too easy, so you are left suffering that loss.

At your shared apartment, Keiji is reading your letter for the nth time over and over again. Tears fill his eyes, the sound of his heart breaking audible in the sobs he lets out. And as if to punish himself, he reads your words again:

My dearest Keiji

I know you think taking a break from us is the right thing to do. And although I disagree, I nonetheless accept your decision. It hurts, I am not gonna lie to you. But I do understand where you are coming from. I just want you to know that I will always be here for you. If you decide that you want to end things definitely, I will accept it. But if you come back to me, I will be here with open arms.

Just know that you always were and always will be enough for me even in times when you don't see yourself as worthy. You are the most kind and most loving person I know and you make me feel so loved. And I can just hope that you feel the same way when thinking about me. If I did something to make you doubt yourself I want you to know that I would never doubt you. Sure, sometimes you annoy the shit out of me but I know for a fact that I not once doubted your love and affection towards me. And that, my love, will never change. I will never see you as anything less than the best part of my life. So if you decide to come back to me, I'll be here.

I love you today, I love you tomorrow and I'll love you every day after that for the rest of my life if you let me.

Forever yours

Y/n

All he can think about is that he wants to hold you again. He needs to, otherwise his life will never feel complete again, this much is obvious. He knows he fucked up bad by sending you away. He needs to make this right, he thinks. So he takes a piece of paper and writes down a plan. A plan to make the heartbreak end. A plan to bring happiness back into his life. The happiness he knows in the form of you.

He knows love is real because he can feel it. He can feel it with every fiber of his being when he thinks of you. He can see it in the way his eyes are dark and lifeless and the bags under them are the embodiment of the loss he feels every night when he can’t sleep because you are not laying in his arms.He knows love is real because it is what he feels whenever he looks at your pictures or when he reads your letter. And all he wants is to make you his again.

#keiji x y/n #keiji x reader #akaashi x reader #akaashi x you #akaashi x y/n #haikyuu!!#haikyuu x reader #haikyuu angst #akaashi angst #akaashi keiji #haikyuu fanfiction #akaashi fanfiction #akaashi x gender neutral reader

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arashikitten · 4 years

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“I am Danny Phantom”

Who knew that four words were all it took to turn someone’s entire life on its head? Well, Valerie knew, her father being fired and her subsequently being dropped by the A-listers proved that, but....

Danny Fenton. The small, quiet, funny, space-obsessed, sleep-deprived, nervous guy who slept in class, made puns out of everything, her boyfriend... was Phantom. The ghost who had ruined her life, who was a menace to the town, who had committed several crimes including kidnapping the mayor. They were the same person.

Her suit was on before she could blink, guns powering up and aimed at Phantom- Fenton- Danny.

“One reason. Give me one. Goddamned. Reason why I shouldn’t put a hole in your head.” Everything was red. She felt nothing but the blood in her veins turning into fire, only heard the sound of her heart pounding in her ears. It would be so, so easy to turn this... this monster into a pile of ectoplasm. All it would take was one little blast...

“Because it was an accident.”

Silence. It rang in her ears like a gunshot, quieting the pounding of her heart like the forest before the storm. Where her anger was once fiery red, now it was cold, calm blue, freezing everything in her path.

“What?” Her voice sounded flat, no hint of anger, and yet the ghost shuffled back slightly, wringing it’s... his hands nervously. (Somewhere in the back of her mind, a part of her recognized that was a habit of Fentons, that Danny- no, Fenton has been doing that earlier. Valerie shut that thought down before it reached farther into her head.)

“It was an accident. That ghost dog... Cujo, he- he was, um, looking for his- his toy because he’d been euthanized by Axion labs after they got the, uh, new security systems. He was just loking for his toy.”

“Then why were you there, spook?”

A pause. He was wringing his hands again. It caught her off guard slightly, how... human he looked. If you took away the glow and bright white hair, he could’ve easily passed as a normal highschooler. (That’s because he is human, part of her mind screeched at her. That’s your boyfriend for fucks sake, it said. Again, she shut it out.)

“I can sense them. The ghosts, I mean. Whenever one shows up, there’s this sort of... smoke, kinda, that I breathe. And that’s how I know if one’s around. So that night, when- when Cujo showed up, I sensed him and went to check it out. I never meant to get your father fired, or to- to fuck the place up as bad as I did. I’m sorry.”

Anger bubbled up in her again. He thought- he really fucking thought that a simple damned apology fixed that? Hell no! He’d screwed over her entire life, got her father fired, committed several crimes, and he thought a simple ass ‘I’m sorry’ would fix it?

She took aim, charging up her blasters.

“I don’t care if you’re sorry. You’re a ghost, a crook, and a thief. And I’ll be doing the whole world a favor by getting rid of you.”

Her blasters were charged up. All it would take now was for her to-

“Then do it.”

Valerie almost dropped her blaster. Had- had she heard that right? She stared at Phantom.

He was rooted to the spot, arms down by his sides, eyes scrunched shut. He was still in his ghost form, but he wasn’t levitating.

What in the hell?

“What do you mean ‘then do it’?” You’re not- you’re not even gonna try to fly off?”

“No.”

“Why?”

At that, Danny- no, Phantom opened his eyes. He looked, scared. Sad. Like he had seen a massacre, or a war.

“A couple of weeks ago... when- when we were about to take the CAT... I- well I got the answer key to the test. And... I wasn’t in a great place, mentally, at the time. I mean, I’m still not, but... it was different, in a way. But basically, what, well, what happened was that I was so stressed out, because I was trying to protect the town and my friends from ghosts, and my parents were just getting worse about trying to hunt me down, and my grades are already shit, and Mr. Lancer kept saying that this test would determine my future and I just...” Danny stopped, shaking and hugging himself. He looked.... Valerie didn’t think she’d ever seen him look this distraught, as Phantom or Fenton. It made something in her chest tighten, made her stomach twist.

“I... I had the answers. And I was already so worried about... well, everything, that I decided to cheat. I figured that maybe I could just do it one time, and then that’d be it, you know? But... of course, of course, it couldn’t be that simple.” Now he sounded... tired. Worn, and not in a good way, more like a war veteran disallusioned with the world. (Something in Valerie told her that maybe this was the real Danny, the part of him he refused to show anyone. The tired fighter who wanted nothing more than to be able to go to sleep without worrying if he was going to wake up with a gun pointed at him.. or if he would wake up at all.)

“Essentially what happened was that Sam, Tucker and I got sort of... teleported about ten years into the future, and... apparently me cheating on one stupid test leads to the end of the world, because Mr. Lancer would find out that I had cheated and would call a meeting with my parents at the Nasty Burger, which would then blow up and kill my friends and family.” Danny was shaking now, arms wrapped around himself as though he was trying to protect himself from his own words.

“That, in turn, lead to me tearing the ghost part out of me, which then proceeded to fuse with Vla- the Wisconsin Ghost. When- well, when that happened, it- drove my ghost half.... I-insane. And then he was killing people all over and... and I- I killed people in that timeline! I did the- the one thing I said I would never fucking do, and I killed someone.”

Danny was on his knees now, quietly sobbing. His black hair (when had he turned back?) shone in the sun.

Valerie was rooted to the spot. How in the hell did someone deal with that? Fuck, how in the hell would someone deal with any of this? In the span of about thirty minutes, Valerie had discovered that not only was her boyfriend dead, but was the town’s widely considered hero and had apparently fought an evil version of his future self and had almost seen all of his friends and family die.

And, to top it all off, he’d discovered that not only were his own parents hunting him, but she was too. Valerie felt sick.

Jesus. Just how much shit had she put him through? Fuck- was that why he was so nervous about telling her he was Phantom? Granted she was still pissed at him, but not for the Cujo thing. Not really.

“Danny.” He looked up at her, and she felt something in her chest break at just how scared and sad he looked. Was this the sort of shit he had to deal with every damn day? All that fear, over being hunted, or experimented on, or getting everyone he loved killed- was this how he felt all the time?

Slowly, Valerie stepped towards him and knelt down. Her eyes never left his.

“Danny. I care... so, so much about you. You... you were the first person to really give a shit about me, after the A-listers dropped me.”

Immediately he tensed, and distress filled his eyes.

“I’m-“

“Nope, don’t, stop. You’re not apologizing. Not right now. Maybe later. Not fucking now.”

He fell silent, eyes wide and searching. Still scared, still tense.

“You love space, and puns. Your favorite video game is Doom 4 even though you’ve never won. Your favorite subject is science, you’ve always wanted a dog, and you doodle in the margins of your paper when your bored.” Valerie paused.

Danny seemed to be noticeably more relaxed, as he was no longer gripping his knees so hard that his knuckles (how had she not noticed the scars? They weren’t exactly small.) were white. Good.

“You adore your mom and dad, even if they embarrass you all the time. You look up to your sister more than anyone on the planet, even if you don’t act it. You don’t make friends often, but when you do you stick with them through hell or high water. You’re incredibly smart when it comes to science and math, even if you have bad grades. And above all, you care so much about bathe people around you. You sacrifice everything, your grades, your relationships, your time, to help people who you think need it. And that applies to phantom and Fenton.”

He was crying again. But this time, there was a small, shaky sort of smile there, one that said something like this was looong overdue.

Slowly, Valerie recalled her suit, and wrapped her arms around Danny in a loose hug. He hugged back burying his face into her shoulder as he shook.

They would be okay. They’d figure it out, eventually.

But for now, they just enjoyed the relief in each other.

——————————

Aaaaand that’s a wrap folks! Part three is finally here! Not gonna lie, I wrote this in the span of about two and a half hours on mobile from 9 to about 11:20 pm, so apologies if there are any inconsistencies.

That being said, I would like to do a poll. I have about 120 followers and I was wondering if I should write something special for y’all once I reach 150. So, would you rather I write:

1) a Danny phantom/Rise of the Guardians crossover,

2) a Danny Phantom TUE! Au fic,

3) part 3 of my Glass ghost au?

Comment your choice below and have a happy weekend or whatever.

#danny phantom #valerie gray #gray ghost #gray ghost is my ship and i will go down with it.#seriously #also please get these two some fucking therapy #especially danny #like good god #danny and valerie should’ve been endgame #danny phantom angst #danny phantom fic

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jade-marie · 3 years

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Top 10 books fics I read in 2020

Tagged by @sothischickshe

I don’t read books. I’m trash. So have my top 10 fics. These aren’t in any real order, btw.

Finally got round to adding some content to each one. Send word to my family, I died doing this. All the fluffy goodness is hitting me right in the feels😭😭😭

Do not collect $200 by @mrslackles

My OG favourite series. I will talk about this till the cows come home, I will read it over and over again until the day I die. So fucking good. The plot, the characterisation, the angst, the fluff, it just has everything and I fucking love it.

Favourite snippet:

Her touch is so light that Rio shivers and his tongue darts out for a second, meeting two of her fingers, and it makes their eyes meet.

And the look she finds there, god, it’s indescribable – no words, there are no words. Yet she knows what it means. Nobody’s ever told me I’m a good kisser and nobody’s ever touched you like this.

She doesn’t say it aloud but it doesn’t matter, not really. They both know it.

And Beth doesn't know when she falls asleep, only that it's with her palm on his throat and her fingers splayed over his lips.

Lush life by @hereliesbb

Lush life is basically my comfort blanket. I have a bad day, I read it and I’m smiling again. Every time. Without fail. The fluffiest fucking shit I’ve ever read in my life, even the angst is fluffy. I love it so much, I cannot find the words.

Favourite snippet:

“What?” she asked when she saw he was staring. She looked back in the mirror to make sure she didn’t have anything in her teeth.

“You’re beautiful,” he said and then huffed like he was making fun of himself. Beth felt her face flush and about a hundred thousand butterflies take flight inside of her.

Warm water by @inyoursheets

Angst, yearning, friends to lovers, slow burn AND THEY WERE ROOMMATES. Such a good read omg 😫

Favourite snippet:

She kisses him.

Elizabeth. Elizabeth kisses him.

He can’t move—can’t think, not with her up close, her scent overwhelming him, her soft body pressed into him—when she’s already pulling back, jerking to a halt.

And just like that, he’s done. Finished. Can no longer find it in him to keep it up, his carefully crafted indifference, the control he tried to grasp so eagerly. No point guarding it from her any longer, not with those wild, wide eyes peering up at him like he can give her something, here, now.

Good sport by fireinsideforfun

Again, phenominal characterisation. I love the way she portrays their vulnerability. It’s just so so so beautifully written.

Also, the image of Rio drowning in a pair of ginormous pyjamas makes me feel some shit🤣

Favourite snippet:

“You’re not going to go rotten on me, are you darlin’?” he quietly asks her.

The question takes her aback, because although his voice is gentle his eyes are speaking volumes, something dark and desolate brewing.

“No. Never,” she says to him and means it.

He scoffs. “How can you know?”

“Because we’ve already been there before,” she says, and she can tell he knows what she’s referring to. “I already tried to get rid of the king and I couldn’t do it. We’ve been through those motions together. It’s done.”

Milkshakes by @emilykolburn

Dad Rio vibes, Rio and babies. Milkshake meetcute. I cannot. Literally so adorable.

Favourite snippet:

Rio was looking her up and down, slowly taking in every inch of her that he could, and she noted that he had that twinkle in his eyes again. When his eyes eventually found hers, he tilted his head to the side a little, tongue running slowly across his bottom lip. The intensity in the eye contact alone made her want to shrink away. She wasn’t used to it, she realised, but the longer they looked into each other’s eyes, and the way the corner of his mouth slowly twitched up into a smirk, she found she liked it.

Irresistible by @wakeupflawless

Highschool au. Enemies to lovers. I eat that shit UP.

Before anyone could say anything, she grabbed the front of his shirt, yanking him down to her for a very public, very dirty kiss.

“Oh, shit,” She heard Pedro say.

For once in his life Rio must have been stunned, because he was frozen against her for a moment. He grabbed her hips, pulling her closer to him and deepening the kiss. The bystanders erupted, she heard hoots and hollers coming from the guys and exclamations of “Oh my God!” from the girls.

“Hey! That’s enough” Called the Vice Principal, “Everyone get to class!”

Beth broke their kiss, panting slightly and grinning ear to ear.

“What was that?” Rio asked, raising his eyebrows.

“So everyone knows I’m hittin’ it,” Beth replied, smirking, “And also to say sorry,”

Love despite by @itsbriology

Dad Rio strikes again. If Lindsay throws in one more big-hand-small-baby-ratio reference... i’m pretty sure my ovaries will explode inside of my body and I’ll die of internal bleeding 🙃🙃🙃

Favourite snippet:

The hiccups lasted longer than he thought, almost to the point he wondered if there wasn’t something else he could do for her. But they eventually slowed and so did her tears, and then he stopped and looked down at her little head full of soft brown hair that had landed on his chest and watched her eyes drift shut again from the pure exhaustion of the near traumatizing event.

“There ya go, sleepy head. See, I told ya.” He laughed down at her as he continued holding her and pushing the cart down the aisle. A little old lady stopped and took in the sight of them.

“Someone’s a good daddy,” She smiled up at him with Jane cozy in his arms and he stopped. The lady looked to be about eighty and probably weighed seventy pounds.

“Uhh, no… this ain’t…” He tried telling her but she interrupted.

“What an adorable little girl you’ve got there.”

The lady looked up at them grinning.“Thank you.” He smiled back, not knowing what else to say in that moment.

Criminology 101 by @sdktrs12

College au. Cars being destroyed. Fluffy shit. Idiots being idiots. LOVE ITTTTT

He moves one hand up to brush her hair out of her face. “Do you trust me?”

I do that’s the whole problem, she wants to scream. She finds herself nodding quietly instead.

“That’s good.” He leans down, presses his lips against her temple in a soft kiss that makes her heart skip a beat.

Beth closes her eyes as she leans into him, giving in and letting herself fall into the dark abyss that is his touch, his smell, his voice.

Shit.

She’s in so much trouble.

Both sides of the law by @joeyjoeylee

Slow burn. Y E A R N I N G. But they don’t even know they’re yearning. Taking the constant oneupmanship and translating it into a law school setting - genius. So so good.

Favourite snippet:

“Shouldn’t you be at the bar?” She really needed to let Gretchen know some of the staff had a distinct professionalism problem. If, or when, she was in charge of throwing the party next year, she’d have to make sure they did a better job of recruiting the help.

“Was just there, actually.” He wiggled his hand to show her the beer bottle he was holding. “But Gretch got on me ‘bout not having my nametag.”

She was confused and a little scandalized. Was he really drinking on the job? And…”Gretch”? He had to mean Gretchen? Granted, Beth barely knew her, but Gretchen hadn’t seemed like someone who would be on a first name basis with the staff. And why would he have a nametag? Nametags were for the students, and he was just a bartender…

Oh.

Oh no.

Everything seemed suddenly to be moving very slowly and she seemed to be watching it all unfold from outside her own body.

She watched him lean closer again to reach behind her and pick up the last nametag from the table.

She watched him pluck the Sharpie from her hand and use it to cross out “Christopher” then write “Rio” in big block letters that still managed to look messy.

Then she watched as he made a production of pinning the nametag just so to his lapel, mirroring her, exact and mocking, grinning down at her all the while.

Oh no.

A time to kill @sothischickshe

JUSTICE FOR MICK. And his shirt. Poor bby did not sign up for dealing with these two dumbasses and their dumbassery. Grumpy Rio pov is always a winner in my book. It’s comedy gold.

Favourite snippet:

Jesus, her hair is past lank. He sniffs. “You’re ripe. Go shower, man.”

Elizabeth grumbles incessantly until he agrees she can have coffee first, but he draws a line under a single cup, demanding she hurry.

Rio opens the windows wide as they allow. There’s a distinct scent of manure in the air, but it honestly might be preferable.

“That shirt needs washing too!” he yells from a safe nasal distance.

She literally punts the shirt at him from the bathroom, before slamming then locking the door. The handle vibrates for ages after.

He debates sourcing some tongs to handle the offending item with. When he can’t find any, considers setting fire to it instead. Surely Elizabeth can make herself a dress outta all the hair she incessantly moults over every inch or some shit.

Eventually he chucks it in for a wash with some other bits, holding his nose closed.

Elizabeth’s in the bathroom for fucking ages. He assumes it’s payback for pointing out she stunk, or whatever. But it ain’t cute.

He jiggles the handle, knocks on the door. There’s no response.

“Oi!” Rio shouts. “Hurry up, I gotta piss!” It’s not, strictly speaking, true. But. It could be. Hogging the bathroom’s just rude.

“Go away!” she squawks. Then, “Go outside!”

He keeps it up, and she mostly ignores him. Though when he insinuates she’s taking the world’s longest shit, she does straight up tell him to fuck off.

Tagging @purplemagic @wakeupflawless @00gangfriend00 @joeyjoeylee

#tag game #fics #gg fic

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stellaluna33 · 3 years

Text

The Phone Call

A preview of what’s coming next in my Gilmore fic The Long And Winding Road, as a phone conversation between Jess and Luke. (You now know more than Rory will in the next chapter... No one knows this except Jess and Luke... and you.)

"Hello?"

"Hey, Luke."

"Jess. How's it going?"

"Oh, you know. Just fine. You still in Nantucket?"

"Yeah. Rory and Richie came with, as you probably know. But we also have a, let's say, 'surprise' visitor up here today."

"Reeeeally. Who's that?"

"Oh, none other than the great Logan Huntzberger himself, who finally deigned to see his son because he could pass it off as a polite visit to a family friend while he was 'in the area.'"

"Jeez. He still hasn't told anyone, has he?"

"Apparently not. Claims he's 'waiting for the right moment,' or some kinda bullsh**."

"Bastard."

"You're tellin' me. But why'd you call? You don't usually call this time of day."

"Yeah. Well, I, uh… I got some news today."

"Oh yeah? What's that?"

"So, I don't know if you remember me talking about that writer's residency program in Argentina last year?"

"Oh yeah, weren't you thinking about applying for that?"

"Yeah. I did apply for it, actually. There was a pretty long waiting list, though."

"Oh, I see. So, d'you hear something about that?"

"Yeah. Today, actually. I, uh… I got in."

"Jess, that is fantastic news! Good for you. That's a really great opportunity for you."

"Yeah. Yeah, it is. I, uh… just… I'm not sure if I wanna take it."

"What?!! Jess, you can't be serious! You've been wanting to do something like this for God knows how long! And now you've got this opportunity and you're just going to let it pass you by?"

"I don't know, it's just… I don't know if it's a good time for me to be leaving the country right now."

"What, you got something goin' on at work?"

"No... No, it's not that, it's… I don't know."

"Well? What is it? What's stopping you?"

"I just… part of me thinks that I should be here, right now. In case… you know, in case a... friend might need me."

"In case a friend might- Oh jeez. Jess. Tell me you're not talking about Rory."

Jess took a deep breath and then exhaled heavily through his nose.

"Are you serious?! Jess! You told me you were over that! Long over, if I remember it correctly."

"Yeah, well, I was over it! At least, I thought I was…"

"Oh, Jess."

"I know! I know. I'm pathetic. I swore I would never end up like you, and yet here I am."

"Hey! Things didn't turn out so bad for me in the end, you know."

"I know. You're right. I'm worse. I already had my chance with Rory, and I screwed it up so badly that she wishes our entire relationship had never happened."

"Jess, you were just a kid. I'm sure that's not true."

"Oh no? Well, sorry to disappoint you, but that's exactly the way she remembers it."

"Ah jeez. She put that in that book she's writing?"

"Yup."

"And you've been reading over it, right?"

"Yup."

"Well, sh**. I'm sorry, Jess."

"Yeah, well, it is what it is, and it's my own damned fault, so I don't really have the right to be put out about it."

"Well, ok, but… that being the case, don't you think it's time to let this go?"

"Past time. But that's the worst part… I've tried. G-d, I've tried. And I thought I was mostly ok with it, you know? There's been occasional relapses of… regret or… moments when I've wished things could've turned out differently, but… I haven't been hoping for anything. I've been trying to move on. I've had relationships."

"You only went on, like, two dates with that last girl, what was her name?"

"Sylvia?"

"Yes, Sylvia! But two dates, Jess! You give up that quickly and you call that trying?"

"That's what I'm getting to, though. This year has been… different. It wasn't so bad when I only saw her for a few minutes every couple years or so, but between the wedding and the book and everything that's been going on with her lately, Rory and I have been talking all the time, and I just… I still like her more than any other woman I've ever met, Luke. And I told myself that she hasn't wanted me for over a decade now. She made her feelings abundantly clear, and I have offered myself up like an idiot over and over and over again, just on the off chance that she might have changed her mind, and she has turned me down every single time. I mean, how many times does she need to say it before I get a clue? 'No means no,' right? I'm done. I'm not doing that again. So, I guess we're friends now. She really likes me as a friend, she says, so I'll be her friend and be grateful I get to spend time with her at all. And I'm doing my best to be ok with that. So I finally asked Sylvia out, and it was nice. She's beautiful and interesting, and maybe it coulda gone somewhere… but then you had to go and tell Rory about it. And she got weird, man. She called me up, and she was comparing me to Mr. Darcy, and-"

"Am I supposed to know who the hell that is?"

"Are you serious? You've lived with Lorelai for, what, ten years now, and she hasn't tied you down and made you watch all six f***ing hours of that BBC monstrosity? Pride and Prejudice? Jane Austen? Lorelai going on and on about Colin Firth emerging from a lake in a wet shirt and breeches? Ring any bells?"

"Ah, maybe. I think I fell asleep about five minutes in."

"Of course you did. Well, all you need to know is that he's the romantic hero of the story, but he's a complete ass for like, two thirds of the book, which is obviously where the resemblance lies. So she's on a roll with that, and hey, I deserve it, but then she throws in the fact that he changes and fixes everything and the heroine can't help falling in love with him in the end. And what the hell am I supposed to do with that? Because last I knew, we were talking about me, and that would imply that… I don't know. All I know is that she got all flustered and started grilling me about my date with Sylvia, that you told her about, thanks so much, and then she starts going on about how she hopes I'll be very happy and how I deserve to be happy and I deserve to be with 'someone who has her life together.' And then she started crying and frickin' hung up on me!"

"Huh."

"Yeah! So, that whole thing kinda threw me, and all of a sudden, I'm not so sure where I stand anymore. I mean, am I crazy? Is that a normal reaction to hearing that a friend is seeing someone?"

"I don't know, Jess. It's weird, I'll give you that… but who knows, with pregnant women…"

"Well, yeah, there's that, too… But I went out with Sylvia again, because I was trying, you know? I owed it to myself and to her to give it an honest shot, but… I couldn't… I couldn't stop thinking about that phone call, Luke. I couldn't stop thinking about her. Because what if this was finally, finally a chance after all these years, and could I really just let that slip away? Could I start a relationship with someone else, knowing that I might be throwing away a shot with Rory? And I've been saying that there wasn't any chemistry with Sylvia and me, but the truth is, I know that's all on me. It was awkward because of me, because I was distracted and I was distant and I wasn't sure I wanted to be there. And Sylvia deserves better than that. It was better to end it before anybody got hurt."

"Ah, jeez, Jess."

"It's true. I'll go ahead and say it: I sabotaged my own attempt at having a happy relationship because I'm still hung up on my highschool girlfriend. And there it is. I'm such a pathetic loser."

"You're not a loser, Jess. You've come a long way. But she's got a baby now."

"I know that. And even if she has changed her mind about me, the timing is so bad... She needs me to be a friend she can depend on right now. The last thing she needs is the stress of fending off yet more unwanted advances from her crazy ex-boyfriend who can't take no for an answer. And I can't go there again, I just can't. So, I'm stuck in this no-man's-land."

"So how is all this stopping you from going to Argentina? Maybe a few months away from all this would be good for you."

"Maybe… maybe. But I just… I broke her trust before by leaving. I made a lot of mistakes, but that? That was the one she couldn't forgive me for. And I want to be there for her, I want her to know that she can count on me now, that if she needs me, I am there. But I can't do that if I'm halfway across the world. I'd be of no more use to her than Logan is, and I… God help me, I want her to think of me as someone who can give her something that he can't. And if I go, I can't do that. And I have this feeling that if I go now, that'll be it for her. The end. Three strikes, I'm out. For good this time."

"Were you planning on leaving without telling her?"

"Well, no, of course I wasn't..."

"'Cause I think that was a big part of the problem last time…"

"Yeah. I get that. But what if she doesn't see it that way?"

"Jess, all I can say is maybe you should talk to Rory about it. See how she feels about it."

"I guess I'll have to."

"For my part, I think you should go. And she won't be alone, Jess. She's got Lorelai, and me, and Lane..."

"You're right. Who'm I kidding? She doesn't need me anyway."

"That wasn't what I meant."

"Yeah, well, it's probably true anyway. But it's good to know that she's got you looking out for her. I'd need you to promise me that, if I'm gonna even consider this."

"You got it."

"Well… thanks for listening. I guess I'd better go. I'm gonna call Rory, like you said."

"I think that'd be a good idea."

"Yeah. Well, talk to you later, Uncle Luke."

"Later, kid. You… you take care of yourself, alright?"

"I always do. But thanks."

Thank you for reading. Please, PLEASE share any comments or ask any questions you’re wondering about! I crave your opinion. What do you think of this? My muse is in desperate need of encouragement so I can finish writing Chapter 9 sooner rather than later!

#Gilmore Girls #Fanfiction #Literati #seriously please talk to me #The Long and Winding Road #this is an exclusive!#It won't be in the next chapter #and I haven't posted this anywhere else!#@tinygothgoblindaydreaming #@lily-of-the-vallies #@blueforest7

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august-anon · 4 years

Text

LERning New Things About Ourselves -- Pineapple’s Fics!

Note From August: With Pineapple taking a break from tumblr until she’s an adult, I will be hosting her fic on my blog for the time being. You can find them under tags like pineapple fics and pineapple writing. Once she is back, they will be deleted from my blog and reposted to her own. Thanks for being understanding to her during this time! Don’t forget to show her your love!

Word Count: 9111 words

Characters: lee!Virgil, ler!Roman

--------------------------------------

Virgil’s heart thudded out of his chest as he stared up at the maliciously coy smile leaning over him. He had never been so excited yet so terrified in his life. “So, darling,” cooed his captor. “Shall we begin your destruction?”

~~~~~~~~~~

It all started on that fateful day when Virgil Anthony decided to post an ad for a new roommate. His previous roommates, Patton and Logan each got married and moved away, leaving Virgil with an empty apartment and no friends.

He was surprisingly content with that reality had it not been for a silly little thing called “rent” that incessantly found itself worming its way into Virgil’s life, and grew impressively large throughout the months. So, deciding he wished to eat this month, he begrudgingly settled on posting a chipper little advertisement on their community college’s website requesting a new roommate, provided they could come up with $450 a month. Weeks passed by and he was starting to lose hope until finally, he got a reply. After a quick online interview, he found himself with a new roommate. Before Virgil knew it, it was moving day.

And that was when he met Roman Prince. Roman was… eccentric.. to say the least, but despite their slightly awkward interview, Virgil knew he was the one. And maybe it helped that he made twice what Virgil made in a week, and brought with him a flatscreen TV and a Switch. Just a little.

“Ahh! Hello!” greeted the man as he set down his suitcase on the steps leading to the apartment. “You must be Virgil!” He stuck out the newly freed hand to shake Virgil’s. Virgil accepted.

“Hey, dude. Yeah, and you must be Roman,” he acknowledged with a smile. “Do you need help with your stuff?”

Roman waved his hand. “Nah, a couple of buddies of mine are coming by later to help me. For now, it’s just me and my suitcase,” he answered, pointing to the suitcase he left by the staircase. Virgil nodded.

“Okay, cool. Well, why don’t you come in, and we can chat.” Virgil wrung his hands slightly as he spoke, his nerves lit up from the social anxiety. He was trying his best to be friendly and not scare this guy off. Fortunately, Roman seemed to do most of the talking for the both of them. Only a couple hours in, the two found themselves seated on the sofa, sipping wine, and getting to know each other. Well, it was mostly Virgil getting to know Roman.

“So, how long have you lived in Cheyenne?” Virgil asked him.

“About three years now! We moved right after I graduated highschool, my parents grew up here, and I decided to go to college here too,” he answered, pointing to the east side of the apartment in the direction of the community college.

Virgil smiled. “That’s nice you all can live in the same area. You get along with your family well, I take it?”

Roman bobbed his head. “Oh yeah. I’m an only child, and it’s safe to say they spoiled me,” he chuckled, and Virgil joined him. Roman shrugged, smiling wryly. “I mean, I’m sure you figured that out considering no sibling should ever feel this confident,” he joked.

Virgil snickered. “Yeah,” he agreed. “Coming from a kid with three older brothers, I know.” He poured some more red wine into both of their glasses. “So, where do you work?” he inquired, ignoring the urge to ask where he makes so much money,

“I work at the bar across the street, Rattlesnake Juice Bar. I’m the manager,” Roman said, bringing the glass up to his lips. Virgil’s eyes widened slightly in surprise.

“Wow, that’s impressive! Normally at twenty-one, employers don't offer management positions at bars,” commented Virgil, sipping his own drink. Roman swallowed his drink and shrugged.

“I guess it was because I had some experience, you know? I’ve been in management since I was seventeen.” Virgil nodded his head with a smile.

“Yeah, that’d do it,” he chuckled. Virgil shifted so he sat on his knees. “So, are you going to do management for a major?” he asked.

Roman shook his head. “No, actually, although it’d probably be a better career plan. Instead, I’m majoring in Journalism with a minor in Creative Writing.” Virgil brought the glass up to his lips, preparing to drink again.

“Oh wow, that’s cool. What do you like to write?”

“Tickle fanfiction.”

Virgil coughed violently, and spit the wine he just had in his mouth onto his shirt. Roman’s eyes widened in panic. “Oh, oh my gosh, are you alright?” he asked, hurriedly grabbing paper towels and handing them to the still sputtering man. Virgil snapped back to reality and finally noticed the spill.

“Oh, for heavens’ sake-“ he muttered, graciously accepting the towels and dabbing at his shirt. Roman furrowed his eyebrows as he helped Virgil clean up.

“Are you alright?” he asked again, his voice laced in genuine concern. Virgil looked up at him for a moment and examined his eyes for any signs of malfeasance. Nothing.

“Um, yeah, I-“ he coughed again, his cheeks turning a light pink. “Yeah, I just, you know, went down the wrong pipe,” he stuttered, gesturing vaguely to his throat. Roman nodded in understanding.

“Yeah, that happens to me all the time. Are you sure you’re good?”

Virgil nodded a bit too earnestly as he got up to go throw away the wine-soaked paper towels. Once safely in the kitchen, he refocused his breathing and tried to calm his beating heart. It was a good thing too, because as soon as he returned, Roman continued the conversation right back up where it had left off.

Virgil barely had time to sit down before Roman began speaking again. “Yeah, so anyways, back to our conversation, I write tickle fanfiction,” he explained with a smile. “It’s super fun. I have quite the following on Tumblr too! Over three hundred followers and they're growing by the minute!” Roman raved. Virgil just started in utter disbelief.

“Oh, well. That’s, uh, cool.”

Roman’s face lit up in excitement. “I take it you know what tickle fanfiction is?” he asked eagerly.

Virgil’s face heated to a thousand degrees. “No! I-I mean, no, not really. I just, I was being supportive. Yeah.” Virgil cringed at how painfully obvious he was being. This guy had to know his slip up. At least he clearly didn’t have to worry about being judged with Roman. But alarmingly, Roman actually appeared to believe him.

“Oh! Well, it’s the coolest thing. Basically-“ he paused for a moment. “Hm, actually, I guess the best way to explain is to start at the very beginning!”

And there Virgil sat, for an entire hour, as he listened to Roman in great explicit detail explain every aspect of the fixation of tickling, the community he was in, and everything he wrote about without a single stutter or slip up. And Virgil listened the whole way through, flinching at the subconscious wiggling of fingers as Roman discussed teases, and thanking whoever the genius inventor of foundation was, for it was the only thing keeping him from blinding his new roommate with the power of his flush as Roman described lees and lers.

Virgil also found out that apparently Roman was a ler. How…interesting.

Finally, mercifully, Roman stopped talking. “Oh goodness,” he laughed. “I’ve been talking for almost an hour, haven’t I!”

Exactly fifty-six minutes, thought Virgil.

“Sorry, I just get really excited and passionate about tickling and writing! Writing is my biggest hobby, and I love it so much. I try to be in touch with all my followers too, you know? I message back to anyone who messages me first, and reply to comments when I can.”

“Um, yeah. Well, I, uh, better throw this shirt in the wash,” Virgil interjected, leaping from the couch and scurrying out of the room.

Roman stared, watching his roommate in confusion, but ultimately shrugged it off and went to go find his new room.

It had been a week since the incident, and frankly, Virgil had not fully recovered yet. He didn’t even know how to begin to process the fact that a proud, confident ler was now living with him. He desperately wanted to know what Roman’s Tumblr account was to see if he could follow him. But discreetly of course, because even though Roman may be secure and confident in his quirk, Virgil was not, and that was just how it was. It would be easy, right? Just ignore him when he talks about it. Virgil was sure Roman was probably used to it.

Later that afternoon, Virgil was sitting at the kitchen table with a cup of coffee, and was intensely scrolling through Tumblr on his phone trying to find Roman’s blog, when the man in question walked into the room.

Virgil all but threw his phone across the room in a panic when he heard the heavy footsteps behind him. He spun around. “Uh, y-yes?” he asked, closing his eyes in an attempt to slow his pounding heart rate. Roman didn’t seem to notice the odd behavior.

“Hey, Virge! So, you’re an English major, right?” He pulled up a chair at the dining room table and sat down. Virgil nodded, happy for the change of conversation.

“Yep. Whatcha need?”

Roman pulled out his phone and scrolled for a bit before handing it over to Virgil. “Do you mind proofreading this for any grammar or spelling errors?”

Virgil nodded and accepted the phone, squinting to try and read the tiny print. This wasn’t uncommon for Virgil. Many of his acquaintances often asked Virgil to proofread their emails and letters to bosses and businesses. It wasn’t until a few seconds of staring until he noticed.

It was a tickle fic. Virgil’s face blossomed into a bright red, as he glanced up at Roman who was sitting stone faced and calm.

“What-” he cleared his throat, “What is this?” he asked, trying to appear nonchalant.

Roman tilted his head. “One of my fics! I’m not the best with grammar, and I was really hoping you could help me edit. You know, as a writing major I really want to get better,” he responded with a smile. Virgil took a shaky breath. No, this was fine. Completely and totally fine. He was just reading a fic in the direct presence of a ler, and then giving him pointers on how to make it better.

“Well, um, you could, maybe, reword this better,” he finally said after a minute.

“What part?”

Virgil pointed to a sentence on the screen. “That one.”

Roman looked at him and giggled. “Virge, do you really think I can see that? Just read it to me, silly.”

Virgil’s face felt like it was on fire. “Oh, um. Okay. So you w-wrote, ‘He laughed, squirming all over the bed, as Chuni followed him, massaging his r-ribs.’ Yeah?” He glanced up at Roman to see him listening intently. Oh, this was hard. “Um, so, to make it flow better you can reword it slightly by changing, changing the order.” He cleared his throat again. “For example, ‘He laughed and squirmed all over the bed and Chuni followed him, m-massaging his ribs.’ Does that, um, make sense?” he clarified.

Roman smiled and nodded. “Yeah, it does! Thanks! Anything else?” Virgil shut his eyes in an attempt to control his breathing.

“Well you, um, spelt t-tormenting wrong,” he grimaced. Roman leaned over.

“Oh did I?” Virgil nodded, propping his head up on his arm in a weak attempt to hide his face. “Can you go over the rest with me?”

Virgil pinched his arm. “Yep, sure thing,” he squeaked.

That was by the longest afternoon of his young adult life. But if he thought that was bad, nothing compared to what happened a month later.

Virgil had still not yet found Roman’s blog, and he kicked himself for not checking to see what the title of the one fic he proofread was so he could search it up later. Regardless, he was still very closeted in his secret fantasy, and somehow managed to keep his cool throughout the many conversations where Roman brought up his ler moods, and writings, and such.

“Virgil!” exclaimed Roman, bursting into the room. Virgil jumped slightly from his seat on the couch, nearly dropping his phone.

“Um, yes?” He turned to see Roman holding a ukulele. “Why do you have a ukulele?”

Roman smiled excitedly. “Well, so you know how I talk about teases, right? How they’re essential to the wreckage of a lee?” Virgil forcefully shoved the embarrassment panic creeping up down his throat. “Well, I thought how cool it’d be, as a new type of tease, to write song parodies of nursery rhymes, but make them tickle related!”

Virgil’s stomach twisted in a pleasant coil as he sat in complete shock. Surely not. “I, uh-“

“You wanna hear some?” he asked, bouncing up and down excitedly on his toes. Virgil continued to ogle as he begged his

voice to work.

“Um, s-sure,” he stuttered out, his voice cracking at the end.

Roman beamed. “Perfect! Okay, so you know the song Tiny Tim, right?”

Virgil coughed. “T-the turtle song?” Roman nodded.

“Yep! But I changed it.” He did a strum of the ukulele before beginning to play the catchy tune. “I have a little feather,” he sang out, his voice ringing out with the chords of the instrument. “His name is Tiny Tim, I used him on my lee, to see if he would grin!” Virgil blanched at the teasing lilt in his voice. “I drank up all his laughter, it made him buck and squeal, and now he’s nice and flustered, his smile oh so real!”

Roman finished the song and looked at Virgil expectantly. Unfortunately, at that moment Virgil’s voice decided to duck out and leave him. Roman giggled at him. “Are you speechless at my talent or something?”

Virgil, horrified, frantically willed the embarrassment away as he finally found his voice. “Oh, no, sorry. Uh, yeah no. It was good. Good,” he took a breath while rubbing the back of his neck. “Job. Yeah,” he finished lamely.

Roman pumped his fists in excitement. “Yessss! I was super proud of it! You wanna hear another one?” Rather than wait for a response, he strummed the ukulele again. “Oh, so this tease requires a specific name for it. Do you mind if I just use yours?”

Virgil swore he was going to have a stroke.

“Oh I know a little lee,” he sang, this time playing a new tune. “His name is Wiggle Virgey,” he paused his singing to look at him. “Adding y’s at the end of names makes it teasy,” he explained.

Virgil said nothing.

“He is so very nice, but oh he is so giggly, and so goes his arms, and his arms go like so, and his arms are always so-oh-oh!”

Yep. Virgil was going to die.

After two more verses, Roman finally finished his song and Virgil was all but willing to sell both his kidneys to disappear from this conversation.

“So, what did you think? That one isn’t my best, but I liked it!” Roman commented nonchalantly.

Virgil simply stared and nodded. Roman furrowed his eyebrows in concern. “Are you feeling alright?”

Virgil blinked. “YeAh, why?” His voice cracked as he tried to speak. He quickly coughed to cover it up.

“I don’t know, you just seem sick or something. You’ve been coughing an awful lot. Your face is like bright red and you’ve been oddly quiet,” said Roman. That only made Virgil blush even more.

“No, yeah, no I’m fine,” he answered, waving him off. “Yeah, but I really gotta go work on, um that thing, for school, see ya around.” And with that, Virgil darted out of the room for the second time, leaving Roman standing alone in utter bewilderment.

Virgil had done his very best to avoid Roman after the whole tease incident, which was difficult considering they lived under the same roof. And even worse considering Roman was the most oblivious guy on the planet.

Virgil was in bed, scrolling through Tumblr on his phone, when he saw another post from his favorite writer, TheLeringPrince. He felt his lee mood spike as he saw it was a new tease post. Eagerly, he tapped the post and began to read. Slowly as he read though, something seemed off. The tease post was various nursery rhymes all modified to fit into the theme of tickling. And Tiny Tim was one of them.

Virgil’s heart began to race and his mind started spinning as he hurriedly tried to calm himself down. “No, Virgil,” he breathed out. “No, it’s just a coincidence. Roman probably stole it from this guy or maybe just thought of the same idea.” Ironically, he found himself wishing his roommate was a thief who stole credit from his favorite Tumblr user’s work, rather than admit that Roman was said favorite Tumblr user.

But right at the bottom of the post, there was a little bold sentence that truly made Virgil’s heart stop.

‘And many of you have been wondering about my sudden improvement in my grammar and spelling. Well, you can thank my brand new roommate for helping me proofread all my new fics and teases!’

What was Virgil’s luck? Of all the people on this planet of seven billion, he gets a roommate who, not only is a confident and charismatic ler who happily reads his teases and fics to Virgil, but is also the specific ler that Virgil had been daydreaming about being destroyed by for years.

Virgil wasn’t sure if he wanted to hug whoever ordained this or punch them.

Virgil contemplated it for a while before finally deciding to tell his anxiety to hit the road, and take this glorious opportunity by the horns. So with a deep breath, he clicked on TheLeringPrince’s profile, then DM’s, then opened his keypad.

Immenslee_Ticklish: Hey, just wanted to say that I really like your stuff, and that you seem like a pretty cool dude. Would you want to chat sometime?’

Immediately, he received a reply.

TheLeringPrince: Why thank you, Immenslee. And yes, I would love to chat ;)

Days went by, and Roman and Virgil were talking through their blogs constantly. Roman had taken to teasing Virgil quite thoroughly on the platform, and Virgil obviously ate it up. Roman even mentioned wanting to meet up sometime. Virgil would be lying if he said he didn't nearly pass out at that.

Of course they still talked in real life, only Roman didn’t know who Virgil was. Oddly enough, Virgil almost felt safer talking to his Tumblr handle rather than to him in real life. He had to laugh at that. Six months ago, Virgil would have fainted at the idea of living with his favorite ler. And now, here he was, finally having something to satiate his ever present, insatiable lee mood! And he was hiding.

He just wasn’t sure how to tell him! Leave his Tumblr open? Text him? Tell him through Tumblr DMs? For goodness’ sake, what was he so afraid of? This guy was clearly accepting and non judgmental about the whole thing. Most people would kill to be in this position. Well, most lees anyways.

Little did Virgil know, but Roman was already pretty suspicious. He didn’t have any evidence of the fact, but he was pretty certain that Virgil had to have some lee in him somewhere. His blush and stutters were getting increasingly obvious and even though Roman could be an idiot, he wasn’t stupid. It took him a while to figure it out, but once he did, there was nothing stopping him. Except of course, if Virgil for some reason just didn’t want to be tickled. That was fine too. But there was something in him that made Roman sincerely doubt that was the case.

Roman had never had a problem about being open with his fixation. He figured that if people were going to judge him based on a silly little liking, then they weren’t worth being in his life. He could understand why some people hid it, sure. It was scary to be so open about something other people found weird. But Roman just never had that fear.

But one day, Roman got a message. It was from a follower named Immenslee_Ticklish. Now Roman recognized this user, as they often commented, liked, and reblogged alot of his works. They were great fans, and apparently very much lee themselves. And all of a sudden, after two whole years of following Roman, they decide to message him.

Interesting.

But Roman ultimately decided to keep quiet about his suspicions because if Virgil wasn’t saying anything, then he didn’t want Roman to know. And Roman respected that. Even if he really wanted to tickle him.

Turns out he didn’t have to wait much longer.

Virgil had practiced it for weeks. He knew exactly what to say, and how he was going to say it. But that all flew out the window as he stared at Roman.

“Virgil, buddy, you’ve been staring at me for three minutes now,” commented Roman, raising an eyebrow at the man in question. “You came to tell me something.” Virgil inhaled deeply and tried to speak, but the words got caught in his throat. Roman gave him a sympathetic look. “Hey, it’s okay. No need to be scared.” Virgil just stared at him. Roman’s heart broke for this kid, who was obviously scared out of his mind. “I promise I’m not going to be upset, or judge you, or do whatever your pretty little head is thinking might happen.

“I’mImenseleeTicklish!” he spat out suddenly. Roman jumped in surprise, but as soon as it hit him, he grinned.

“Oh, are you now?” he hummed, a sly smile watching the flustered boy with great amusement.

“Wait, no, I meant like the username. I’m the user Immenslee_Ticklish. I didn’t mean it like I’m immensely ticklish, well, I might be, but-“

Roman’s amused look caused him to stop talking. “So, yes?”

Virgil nodded. “I’m, uh, I’m a lee. Yeah.” The two of them stared at each other, neither one breaking the deafening silence or the intense eye contact.

“Well that’s very valuable information,” Roman stated calmly, being the first to speak, and before walking away and into the kitchen.

Wait?! Before walking away?!

Virgil’s mouth dropped open as he watched Roman walk off. “Wait!” he called indignantly. Roman paused, smirking away from Virgil.

“Yes?”

Virgil just stared for a minute, waving his arms dramatically as if it would help him speak. “Aren’t you going to, um, do something?”

Roman turned around to face him, as Virgil paled at seeing Roman smile darkly at him. “Like what?”

Realization hit him like a truck, and Virgil gaped in absolute horror. He was going to make him ask, wasn’t he? Oh, this was mean. So, so, so mean.

But at this point the lee mood was so bad that his dignity was going to have to leave him.

“I- were you, um,” he covered his face with his hands. “Were you gonna tickle me?”

He could hear Roman’s evil grin. “Do you want me to?”

“Um, yes. Please.” He swallowed harshly.

Roman clapped. “Why look at those manners!” he praised, gleaming at the whining boy in the living room. “I would love to. But to be clear, what exactly do you want to happen?”

“W-What do you mean?” Virgil asked, peeking from behind his hands.

“Tell me exactly what you want for me to do. In explicit detail, or I won’t do any of it,” cooed Roman.

“You’re so mean,” Virgil whined into his hands again. Roman laughed at his expense.

“I’m waiting~”

Virgil glared at him through his hands. “I want you to wreck me and tease me and destroy my resolve, and I want you to do it now! Please.” He added, lest he be made to repeat his request in a more polite manner. Roman reeled back, a tad surprised at the direct request.

“Well, good for you. I’d be happy to,” he nodded, impressed. “Very well. Meet me in your room in ten minutes~” he teased with a wink.

After he left, Virgil let it sink in. He was about to be ruthlessly teased and broken by his ler idol in ten minutes.

Oh he was going to die.

Virgil’s heart thudded out of his chest as he stared up at the malicious coy smile leaning over him. He had never been so excited yet so terrified in his life. “So, darling,” cooed his captor. “Shall we begin your destruction?” Roman’s voice lowered significantly into a husky tone that sent shivers down Virgil’s spine. He tugged on his restraints, waves of excitement and panic flooding his body, and feeding his lee mood from before. He had waited years. Years and years and years for this day. To be in this position, and about to get wrecked into oblivion. He had no idea what Roman was going to do, but he was excitedly terrified.

Roman took a single finger and began aimlessly swirling around Virgil’s belly, going in zigzag patterns, curlicues, and idle shapes while he rested his head on Virgil’s chest. Virgil’s breath hitched, the gentle touches not quite tickling, but was setting an amazing precedent for what was about to take place. Roman let out a deep breath, purposely aiming it for Virgil’s neck, rewarding him with a satisfying squeal as the man scrunched up his shoulders as much as he could.

“I have a dilemma, Virgil,” sighed Roman melodramatically. “I feel like, since you’ve waited all this time for some expert ler to completely wreck you, destroy you, and undo your very resolve, that you ought to have a good experience, hm?” he commented, glancing up to look at Virgil’s wobbly smile. “I mean you’ve been so patient! It’d feel criminal to deprive you of the best possible experience. Don’t you agree?” He paused, waiting for a reply while still mindlessly twisting his finger on the pale expanse of skin, but all Virgil did was squeak softly in embarrassment.

Suddenly, Roman snapped his fingers, causing Virgil to flinch slightly. “I’ve got it!” he announced, smiling darkly. “Let’s let you choose.”

Virgil’s eyes widened in pure horror. “What?”

“Why choose your own teases, of course! Who better knows exactly how to tease and fluster you, and turn you into a giggling blushy pile of goo then yourself?” Roman enunciated his point with a few teasing pokes to his chest. Virgil squirmed in an attempt to get the pokes to hit his stomach but he had no such luck. “So, Giggles, you want to try it?”

Virgil bit his lip and bounced his legs anxiously. “No!” he whined, his wobbly smile growing by the minute.

Roman grinned. “No? But it’s like a choose your own adventure! You choose your own teases and tools! Won’t that be fun?” Virgil shook his head violently. Roman mock pouted. “But I think it will be fun!”

Virgil made a strangled guttural sound in reply. “I-“

“Yes, dear,” he urged, resting his chin on Virgil’s chest once again.

Virgil sighed and closed his eyes in frustration. “I-I can’t tease,” he mumbled under his breath.

“What was that?”

“I can’t tease!” he repeated, only slightly louder this time. Fortunately, Roman heard him.

“Oh well, that’s not a problem, silly. You aren’t saying the teases. I am!” he replied with a smirk. Virgil peaked one eye open.

“But I thought you said-“

“Oh, I know what I said,” he answered, cutting Virgil off. “No, I already know what teases you chose. You don’t have to say a word.” To Virgil's confusion, he pulled out his phone. It wasn’t until Roman started scrolling and grinning that Virgil’s eyes widened in panicked realization.

“No, no, no, NO!” Virgil called out, bouncing in anticipation. He tried lunging for the phone but his bonds held him back.

Roman pretended not to hear him. “Hm, let’s see. Posts, then notes, then-“ Roman grinned up at Virgil. “Ah yes, reblogged by Immenselee_ticklish! Oh, look there’s a comment too!”

“No! No, don’t read the comment!”

“It says, ‘Ahhhh!! Oh gosh, I’m blushing so hard!!’ Hold up.” Roman turned to look up at Virgil who was fire engine red. He smirked. “Would you look at that. Anyway, it continues to say, ‘I would die if anyone said this to me!’ And then there’s a blushing face.”

He smirked again as he faced Virgil. “So, would you say you’ve died?” Virgil whined longingly. Roman nodded while looking back at his phone. “I’d say yes.”

Roman continued to scroll only for his eyes to light up in delight. “Oh looky here!” Virgil slammed his eyes shut, not daring to.

“No, no, no, no.”

“Virgil look! It’s a gif! Oh wow.”

Oh yeah. Virgil definitely wasn’t going to look. He was strong, he was resilient, and nothing could break him!

“Aww and they’re getting their bellybutton tickled! Isn’t that your most favorite spot in the whole wide world?”

Um, yeah. It was easy, mind over matter. He wouldn’t look. Easy.

“Hey! And it’s your best friend! Mr. Toothbrush!”

Yeah, he... What was he saying?

“Roman, please,” he begged, eyes still clamped shut. The endless teases were killing him. His ever present lee mood had grown into a ravenous monster that he thought would never be satiated. His body screamed for tickles. It was more than a want, or even a craving. It was a need at this point. And Roman knew that and it only fueled his evil ler facade all the more.

“Aw, poor baby. Don’t worry, we’ll start soon,” he cooed.

Roman made Virgil lie there, flustered and helpless, and oh so terribly lee, and wait as he read out tease after tease that Virgil reblogged from his Tumblr, and even read the comments from the lee himself. Virgil wished with every second of every minute spent lying on that bed he had never made that Tumblr account.

After ten or so teases, Roman finally, mercifully, put the phone away. Virgil sighed in relief. Finally! He was going to be tickled to his limits, then past them, then have them pushed even further. He didn’t just want to be broken. He didn’t just want to be destroyed. No, he wanted so much more.

Roman marched up to the table and placed both hands on Virgil’s thighs. “So, a little birdie told me you like baby talk,” he teased. Virgil blushed, which Roman took for a yes. “So would a, oh I don’t know, little kitchy, kitchy, coo would get you all flustered, hm? A little-“ his voice dropped an octave. “Tickle, tickle, tickle~” his face morphed to a maniacal grin.

Virgil's face turned crimson as he wiggled around on the table. “Noho!” He barked out a laugh. Roman raised his eyebrows in surprise.

“No? Hmm. What about nursery rhymes, huh? You sure liked the ones I sang to you earlier this month! Do you want to hear some of those? ‘Cause I got some good ones~” Roman whipped out a feather seemingly out of nowhere and waved it teasingly in front of Virgil’s nose. Virgil yelped at the sensation.

“I have a little feather,” sang out Roman, his voice rising and falling with the feather. “His name is Tiny Tim. I used him on my lee, to see if he would grin.” He winked at Virgil who just blushed deeper. “I drank up all the laughter, it made him buck and squeal, and now he’s nice and flustered,” Another wink. “His smile is so real.”

Virgil was already softly giggling at the song, and it only encouraged Roman to keep going. “You got a little giggle button, right? I have another fun song, just. for. him!” he cheered, punctuating each word with a poke to his bellybutton, making Virgil squeal each time.

He took the feather and ran it in a large teasy circle all around the vast expanse of vulnerable tummy. “Ring around the belly, a button full of jelly,” he heard Virgil snort when the feathers hit a particular spot on his waistline. “-tickle, tickle, they all fall down!” Roman ended the verse with several flicks of the fluffy feather to Virgil’s bellybutton, causing him to buck and laugh, but it was still technically soft tickles. Virgil didn’t want soft tickles right now.

“Rohohoho,” he whined through the giggles. Roman ignored him.

“Let’s see. Oh, here’s another favorite of mine!” He cleared his throat and lifted the feather again. “Oh head, shoulders, knees and toes, knees and toes! Head, shoulders, knees and toes, knees and toes~” He ran the feather all over the respective places, and it didn’t tickle much, but Roman’s plan was working. Virgil was getting more and more flustered, and more and more ticklish.

“Oh feet, tummies, arms and chins, arms and chins. Feet, tummies, arms and chins, arms and chins~” Roman watched in glee as Virgil’s face turned darker and darker with each song, and how even though the tickling was so light, his giggles were still sharp.

All of a sudden, with zero warning, Roman ditched the feather and attacked Virgil’s tummy with all ten fingers. “Oh, she’ll be tickling Virgil senseless when she comes! She’ll be tickling Virgil senseless when she comes-“ Virgil fell into deep belly laughter as he thrashed and pulled desperately. “She’ll be tickling Virgil senseless, she’ll be tickling Virgil senseless, she’ll be tickling Virgil senseless when she comes!”

Virgil had never felt more embarrassed in his life, but that made the tickling so much more fun. After two more verses, Roman stopped. Virgil whined again at the loss of contact.

Roman chuckled. “You really are a hopeless lee, aren’t you?”

Virgil scrunched his nose. “Shut up.”

Roman’s eyebrows raised in an accusatory way. “Do you want to say that again?”

“What? Shut up?” snarked Virgil, trying to wind him up to get wrecked and forced to apologize, but unfortunately, Roman saw right through his plan.

“Wow. You really are desperate. Stooping so low as to provoke me to lash out and wreck you right this minute?” Roman tisked lightly. “Imagine! You honestly think that I’m going to fall for the oldest trick in the book? I hate to break it to you, Stormcloud, but I’m far more experienced than you think I am,” he added, shaking his head in disapproval. “I ought to make you wait longer just for that.”

Virgil gasped and shook his head desperately. “No, no, please no! I’m sorry!”

Roman shook his head again. “Poor little lee. So desperate you’ve lost your dignity. Here you are, begging like this for me to so horribly wreck you until you can’t even remember your own name.” Despite his words of disapproval, he smiled. “Oh course, I don’t blame you. I am very talented so I understand your eagerness. For that reason, I will grant mercy and not punish you for your lousy attempts at brattiness.”

Virgil let out the biggest sigh of relief imaginable. At last! He was going to be wrecked!

“But I still have one more game before we start.”

Virgil threw his head back onto the bed with such a force it almost hurt. “Oh my gosh, Roman please,” he begged, whining at a new frequency.

Roman sighed. “One more! You can do it. I have to make sure your ticklish little body is at optimal sensitivity! So, here’s an easy game to finish you off.” He walked around to the side of the bed. “Just gotta warm you up,” he winked before wiggling his fingers menacingly above Virgil. Virgil asked, and sucked in his stomach, but Roman simply drew in closer. The fingers were so tantalizingly close to the tickle spot, and Virgil swore he felt them already. And in his mind, he pleaded and begged with Roman to hurry up and get on with it already, but on the outside he was completely stunned into silence.

Until Roman did a fake out.

Roman launched his wiggling fingers at Virgil full speed without any sort of warning, and Virgil lost it. He laughed, he snorted, he cackled, and he squealed. He jerked and thrashed all over his limited free space for a whole minute until he realized. Roman’s hands were behind his back, as he watched Virgil with the most evil look you could imagine.

“You're awful!” screeched Virgil, both mortified by his own reaction, and furious at Roman’s trick. Roman laughed out loud.

“Hmm, okay, okay. I’ll wreck you now. Besides, I can’t just keep you here, endlessly teasing and torturing you forever?” He paused with a smirk. “Actually-“

“Roman!” Virgil cried out, laughing in both frustration at his lee mood, and anticipation from what was coming.

Roman laughed at his panic. “I’m just kidding, jeez. You poor lee. Alright, I’ll wreck you, on the one condition you tell me your worst spots.”

Virgil’s eyes turned to saucers. “I-what?”

“You heard me! Give me those death spots or else no tickles~” he sang, thinking the nerves were from his tease.

But strangely, Virgil turned more bashful, rather than flustered. It was almost a sheepish look on his face that replaced the embarrassment. That certainly got Roman’s attention.

“What’s wrong?” he asked, eyebrows furrowing in slight concern. Virgil scrunched his face up and looked down.

“I-I well, I don’t know what my worst spots are,” he replied with a shy smile.

Roman was confused for about two seconds before it dawned on him. “You-“ he stared in utter wonderment. “You‘ve never tickled before, have you?”

Virgil’s face flushed under the attention. “Well, yeah, no not really,” he mumbled sheepishly.

Oh, this was a game changer. Roman beamed. “You mean to tell me, I’m your first time?” Virgil smiled again, and nodded hesitantly. Roman had never been so excited in his life. “Well then, I guess we have work to do!” he commented, a wicked grin and a twinkle shining in his eye.

Roman turned and walked down to the end of the bed, clicking his tongue as he examined the body in front of him. “I suppose the best thing to do would be to either go bottom to top, or top to bottom.” He tilted his head up at Virgil while smiling. “Would you by any chance have a preference?”

Virgil huffed. “I guess, I don’t know. Bottom to top?” he suggested, more or so not caring as he really just wanted to be wrecked already. Roman clapped.

“Perfect! That means I get to play with your cute little feet!” he cheered. Virgil blushed. Roman held tight of the right foot’s ankle and took the same pointer finger and carefully slid it from the tippy top of the toes all the way down to the heel. Virgil immediately started his giggles anew, wiggling his upper body at the light touches. “Oh good! It seems you’re ticklish here! What else can we try?”

Roman soon added the other four fingers into the fray and began ruthlessly scratching up and down and all around the soft tender arches, making Virgil snort and fall into deeper laughter at the feeling. He tickled all around the foot, being very thorough and detailed in his methods, making sure not one inch of ticklish skin was left unscathed. Then, without warning, he moved up to the toes. He wiggled each little toe and scolded them if they curled up. Eventually, he pulled them back and gave them a good scratching underneath as punishment for their misbehavior. Virgil thrashed like nobody’s business, finally getting exactly what he wanted, and it was so much better then he had ever thought. And he certainly didn’t complain when Roman informed him that his other foot was getting left out, and needed the same tickly treatment.

After both feet were thoroughly assaulted (Roman may have had to go back to the right foot again, it seemed to be getting lonely), he spidered his fingers all the way up to Virgil’s knees. Virgil smiled in anticipation, bouncing his leg as he waited.

“Ah yes, the knees. Such an underrated tickle spot! Very few people think about the knees being so terribly ticklish, but they can be! It all starts with this little pressure point, riiiight here.” Roman began rapidly wheezing the muscle right above Virgil knee, making him fall into deep laughter. “Oh wonderful!” shouted Roman above the loud laughter. “It seems as if your knees are just as horridly sensitive as I thought!” His squeezing fingers quickly switched to spidering ones, and darted right on the underneath of his knees, sending Virgil snorting.

Roman awed at the adorable sounds. “Aww, aren’t you just the cutest little thing? Are my tickly, tickly tickles making you giggle, hm?” he cooed, relishing in the deep red color that was Virgil’s face and the tiny snorts mixed in with the hysterical giggles.

“Nohohohoho!” Virgil giggled out, trying to kick his legs but the restraints keeping every inch of ticklish skin in place.

“No?” questioned Roman. “Well, that’s a shame! Why don’t we try something else then,” he pondered and immediately grabbed the young man’s thighs, squeezing sporadically and rapidly every area of muscle. Virgil’s eyes bulged out as he flung himself to sit up right and cackle.

Roman’s eyes lit up with mischief at the extremity of Virgil’s reaction. “Oh, what's this? Does this tickle? Are you ticklish here?” he asked, the teasing lilt in his voice making the ruthless squeezing at his thighs all the worse. Virgil fell back on to the bed to wheeze with laughter when Roman moved up closer to his hips. “Virgil!” scolded Roman. “Hello! I’m talking to you! Does this tickle?” he asked again, not for one second stopping the wretched attack on the loathsomely sensitive muscle.

When Virgil still didn’t reply, Roman felt a spike of worry, and slowed his squeezing fingers just a little. Virgil’s wheezy laughter died down, until it was more or less hysterical giggles.

“Yes!” Virgil called out. Roman was confused for a minute until he remembered the question he had asked a few minutes earlier. He took his hands off his legs, leaving Virgil limp and giggly.

“Oh good! See I guessed it did, but I was just checking,” he winked. “Congratulations, Virgil. I think you might have your first death spot.”

Virgil weakly held up a thumbs up, his giddy smile bright enough to blind someone. Roman smiled at him softly. “How about we take a break?” So he sat next to Virgil on the bed, gently rubbing his shin comfortingly, waiting for Virgil to regain all the breath he’d lost until finally-

“Um, I think I’m ready to go again,” piped up the younger man. Roman grinned.

“You sure?” Virgil nodded eagerly. Roman leaned next to Virgil’s ear, making him squeak. Oh he’d have to remember that.

“Well then,” he purred, his voice sending shivers down Virgil’s spine. “Allow me to continue your destruction.” He peered down the bed where Virgil was stretched out, and examined it carefully like a puzzle. He walked down the side to the right of his hips. “Now if my memory serves me, correct me-” Roman began, but Virgil barked out a laugh. Roman glared at him. “What?”

“Dude, what did you say?” he asked, laughing again. Roman crossed his arms.

“If my memory serves me, correct me. It’s a saying!” Virgil burst out laughing again. “What?!”

“The saying is, ‘If my memory serves me, correctly,’ not correct me,” he teased, still laughing at Roman’s miss interpretation.

“Okay, yeah, laugh it up, Virgil,” he retorted, immediately squeezing his right thigh again. Promptly the teasing man burst into laughter at the feeling, and proceeded to howl on the bed. “Don’t correct me again!” he playfully scolded before ceasing the tickling.

Roman crawled up on the bed in between Virgil legs in hopes of being able to navigate better. “Now, I say we try hips next. Some people overlook it, but they look wonderfully ticklish to me~” he sang, already the tone giving Virgil the giggles. Roman grinned at the pink color once again rising to his cheeks. “Aww, does mentioning the tickly tickles making you a little neeeervous?” he sang again, whilst skimming the skin of his waist and pant line. Virgil’s giggles greatly increased from both the tickling and the teasing alike, as he began wiggling around in the bed.

Roman’s scratching fingers followed the wiggly hips with great ease, smiling in adoration as he listened to the sweet soft giggles come from his captive. “You’re adorable,” he commented without really thinking.

“Nuhnuhnuhuhu uhuhuhuh!” the giggling man protested, yet his denial only further proved Roman’s point.

“Yeah huh!” argued Roman. “Alright enough softness, I want to watch you scream.” He put on his best evil ler face as he watched Virgil turn a bright crimson at the threat.

Roman crawled up further until he was practically sitting on Virgil’s hips. “So, let’s test the waters for what are the vast expanse that is Virgil’s tickle spots, shall we?” Virgil pulled up his legs out of reflex, but they were blocked by Roman’s back. He whined.

“Oh, whatever is the matter, dear?” he cooed, leaning in so close Virgil could feel his breath on his neck and ear. The man made a strangled noise in reply. “I’m sorry, darling, I don’t speak lee. Would you mind rephrasing your statement?”

Virgil just shut his eyes, trying to smother the wobbly grin that was slowly creeping up onto his face. Roman took that as a sign to continue.

He spidered his fingers up to Virgil’s sides, and kept them there, smiling as Virgil shuffled all over the bed in anticipation. “Gohohoho ohohohon, alreheheady!” he giggled out.

“Is that anyway to ask for something?” Roman playfully scolded moments before digging into the boy’s sides. Virgil bucked and burst into giggles, thrashing and pulling. Roman didn’t stop for even a second, mercilessly tickling, squeezing and scratching all over the sides and even migrating to the soft skin of the belly. Virgil was in proper hysterics and was loving every minute of it.

“Aww, aren’t you just the cutest thing! What? What’s the matter? Are you ticklish?” Roman teased, digging into the lower belly. Virgil squealed, and fell into even deeper laughter as Roman took to blowing raspberry after raspberry onto Virgil’s poor ticklish tummy. Virgil was in tickly heaven, for sure, but he still hadn’t been broken yet. And that was fine, but his growing hunger still hadn’t been filled, and he couldn’t help but wish deep down that there was somewhere to truly make him scream. He contemplated asking Roman to go for his thighs again.

But then.

As Roman paused the tickling on his sides and began to feel around, something happened.

Virgil could only possibly describe it as maybe a jolt of euphoric electricity that shocked him into the pit of his stomach. Something that found the roaring lion that was his lee mood and slapped it in the face. Something that sent shivers to his spine and butterflies to his stomach. Something that made him shriek at the mere feeling of Roman’s presence. If Roman’s dastardly laughter upon finding the spot was any indication, Virgil was screwed.

“Well, looky here,” he noted, looking up at Virgil with a gleam in his eye, further confirming the reality that Virgil was about to experience. “It seems we’ve found something.”

Roman tested the spot again: a rib, nestled warmly in between a tiny layer of fat, and the beginning of his armpit. He sharply poked the rib, eliciting a similar shriek as before. Virgil’s eyes grew like saucers as he fought with his own mind on how he felt. Was he terrified? Was the overwhelming amount of ticklish sensations about to course through his body like an electric current terrifying? Or was he excited? That after all these years of begging and pleading for someone to come into his life and do this very thing to him?

Virgil didn’t have time to decide, as Roman promptly dug in.

Virgil said he wanted to scream, and scream he did. His body was too overwhelmed to even thrash at this point, no, it merely fell limp and took every bit of torture Roman was giving to it. Roman took his pointer finger and thumb, making them into a claw motion, and pinching all over the bone. He pinched up and down, left to right, and repeated the sequence, soaking in every plea and beg and cry from Virgil. He wiggled in between the bone, and even took to scratching the armpits as well. Virgil was happily losing his mind. But it wasn’t over.

No, because out of nowhere, Roman pulled from under the bed a bottle of oil, and immediately began pouring it into his hands. Virgil greedily sucked in the oxygen as he waited for Roman to start again. His eyes followed him, watching Roman complete his moves with an eagerness about him. He was ready.

Virgil only had to wait a minute longer before Roman took his sweet time, slowly covering every inch of both armpits in the slippery liquid, purposely sliding his fingers and nails in such a way to make Virgil start to laugh. And then with both hands, he dug in again.

Oh, if he thought it was bad before, no, this was true torture. The oil made the fingers glide pristinely on the sensitive skin, and thereby ticking seemingly everywhere at once. Roman still concentrated on squeezing both top rib bones on either side at the same time, while allowing the nails to scratch along the armpits and other ribs as he did it.

And Virgil screamed. He screamed and screamed louder than he had ever before. He couldn’t even be concerned at the fact they were living in an apartment, and if they neighbors would be worried. Virgil screeched at the top of his lungs, his voice no longer even saying words or please at this point, just pure unshackled ecstasy in waves unmeasurable. He screamed and laughed his voice hoarse, kicking and tugging in desperation to escape the torture he was being subjected to.

“So,” commented Roman nonchalantly, yet very loudly to be heard over the booming laughter. “I was wondering if you could give me a quick performance review. You know, it is my first time and all.”

“AHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA-“

“Okay, so that’s not too bad. Anything else?”

Virgil silently screamed as he felt Roman vibrate his fingers into both bones once more.

“Oh good! Well, I appreciate your input, thank you.”

Virgil was loving every solitary second of this, after all, this is what he had wanted. He wanted exactly this. But, unfortunately, he needed to breathe. So he called out.

“YEL-“ he stopped mid screech, his own laughter cutting him off. Roman stopped immediately.

“Was that yellow?” he asked, face contorting with worry. Virgil didn’t answer at first, only focused on taking in as much oxygen as he could get.

“Yeheheah,” he replied, the leftover giggles still dying out.

Roman’s evil ler face melted as a fond one replaced it. “Wow, I’m impressed. That’s definitely your death spot, and you only called out yellow. I could never last as long as you did,” he marveled.

Even with as winded as Virgil was, he was still trying to tease back. “Oho, so you have a death spot, then?” he teased with a smirk. Roman blushed.

“Oh shut up. Just so you know, you still technically haven’t called red yet,” he retorted cockily. Virgil nodded before laying his head down for a minute to rest. “Do you want water?” Roman asked him.

Virgil shook his head. “No, I’m almost done. I’d rather not get up then get back down.” His insatiable lee mood was shrinking drastically. But, there was one more thing he wanted. “So, um,” he looked up at Roman sheepishly. “Can I do a request?”

Roman smiled fondly. “Of course. This is your session after all.”

Virgil fidgeted as much as he could despite his hands being tied. “So, I kind of have a favorite spot. Like, after you tickled me. I realized I might have a favorite.”

Roman’s heart practically burst on the spot. “Oh yeah? Let me hear it.”

Virgil wrinkled his nose in embarrassment, and stayed quiet for a minute. Roman chuckled. “Come on little lee, I can’t help you out if you don’t ask,” he cooed, gently spidering his fingers on the tops of his feet, making him let out a quick giggle at the touch.

“Ohohokay, okay. Um,” he looked away bashfully. “Can you go back to, back to my stomach? You, you can tease. Too. If you want, or whatever,” he added quickly, still refusing to look Roman in the eye. Roman beamed.

“Why, I would love to.”

Roman sat down next to Virgil, and actually undid his cuffs, much to Virgil’s surprise. “Alright, now keep your arms up,” he whispered, sending a pink flush to his cheeks.

“W-what?” he giggled shyly. Roman poked his tummy.

“You heard me. You gotta keep them up aaaaall by yourself.”

Virgil giggled again, and cautiously raised his arms above his head and gripped the headboard. “Okay, I’m ready.”

Roman nodded with a smile and began lightly skittering his fingernails all over Virgil’s quivering tummy. Virgil immediately burst into soft, sweet giggles, the ones he could probably stop if he tried, but definitely didn’t want to, and rocked back and forth onto the bed. Roman kept the fingers teasing his sides gently, then lifted up his shirt slightly and started peppering cute little kisses all over the pale skin. Virgil squealed lightly and giggled slightly harder at the wonderfully maddening feeling, drinking in every bit of feeling he could.

Finally after about ten minutes, Virgil slowly lowered his arms from the headboard and Roman stopped. Overwhelming exhausted overcame him like an ocean and he yawned. “Thank you, Roman. This was the best day of my life.” Roman smiled at the compliment.

“Why I’m so happy it was, Virgil. We will certainly do it again.” He stood up to leave, but Virgil grabbed his arm.

“Stay with me?” he asked, pulling on his arm like a child. Roman chuckled.

“Of course.”

And the two of them napped together, each so peaceful and happy in that they found each other, and waking up wondering if it was all just a dream.

#tickle fic #pineapple anon #pineapple writing #pineapple fics #sanders sides tickling #lee!virgil #ler!roman #ticklish!virgil #sanders sides #virgil sanders #roman sanders #prinxiety #platonic prinxiety

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bulletproofscales · 3 years

Note

Could you do a Yoonseok fic where they are uni teachers and they teach in the same room? Like when Yoongi's class finishes, Hoseok's class comes in after and Yoongi has a bad habit of overstaying to get a glimpse of the other cute teacher and they just end up falling in love somehow?

– hello!! i dont know why i had such a hard time writting this request???? like its simple its cute, its lovely. i just struggled so much to find a direction to take it form. so i really hope this fufilled your vision it came out supper fluffy!! i didnt make it feederism because the pormpt didnt specify, theres like hints to a chubby yoongi if you squint . anyways enjoy!!!

3.8k words

https://archiveofourown.org/works/30115707

Yoongi loves literature.

He’d go as far to say, literature is his favorite thing in the world.

No, he hasn’t read fiction since he was in highschool, and he hasn’t read fiction voluntarily ever.

What’s that got to do with anything?

When the university offered Yoongi this job as the professor in Thermodynamics, they had assured him his schedule wouldn’t clash with the other Calc II classes he gave during the week; always with a break in between. Which meant, the professor always has at least 2 hours in between his classes to use for research purposes.

Yes… Research purposes.

LIsten he hadn’t meant for it to get this far. Yoongi had only curiously stayed as he saw the new professor who was replacing the old lady who gave World Contemporary Literature after his class. The man looked young, about his age, delicate complexion, angelic face.

His name is Jung Hoseok, and Yoongi had only talked to him for a couple of minutes, welcoming him to the university before leaving for his office. Though he was later very frustrated to find out, he could barely get any work done with his mind playing unhelpful reruns of his exchange with professor Hoseok. The most reasonable thing would be to try and not cross paths with him again for the sake of his investigation, right?

Yoongi is not nearly as strong-willed as he needs to be to accomplish that.

In fact his time at the World Contemporary Literature class, only prolonged after that encounter. Waiting until the class was full to make his leave, or sometimes waiting until Hoseok started the class, or sometimes even staying for a bit at the front row before leaving. By now, his two bi-weekly classes of Contemporary Literature had become part of his routine. Staying at the back of the class where he admired the young man, as he walked around giving the class diligently; impressively capturing a large number of students who were now actively interested in it.

Yoongi had been captured, in a different way.

“You’re staying over this class too?” Hoseok’s voice is soft spoken, not upset but just lightly accusatory. It’s been weeks, of course he noticed Yoongi staying over every single class. And as startled as Yoongi is, he still considers himself lucky that the professor doesn’t sound annoyed.

“I just–I really…” Think Yoongi, think of anything. “I’ve just really been trying to get into literature.” He manages to smile softly through his lie. And it seems to work, because Hoseok’s expression is widening and then grinning in excitement.

“Who would have thought!” He beams cheerfully. “Well you’re free to come as many times as you want. Though I might have to start testing you along with the rest of my students?” Hoseok jokes, or at least Yoongi hopes he is joking. He just laughs it off and goes to his usual seat in the back, where he will be doing nothing except staring as professor Hoseok gave his class; without actually registering anything that’s being said.

Lucky for Yoongi, the test never comes. But him and the literature professor grow closer, Hoseok starts inviting him out to have their lunch break together; since he knows for a fact Yoongi gave his class first thing in the morning and then stayed until near noon in Hoseok’s lecture. And just like had accepted defeat before, the older agrees without a second doubt.

In comparison to his typical lunches stuffed in the Sociology department with Namjoon and Seokjin, those bi-weekly 40 minutes he spends with Hoseok are… so refreshing. He remembers fearing that the literature professor would ask Yoongi what he thought of the class, but that wasn’t the case at all.

Long forgotten were his heated debates about deeply rooted issues within humanity over lunch. Now Yoongi couldn’t wait until it was wednesday or friday, and he could just converse with Hoseok. Of course it started out like it typically would, professors talk, complaining about students, complaining about their superiors, how they got into teaching. But somehow Hoseok deemed him worthy, and just opened himself up for Yoongi. Nothing too dramatic, but the engineering professor found himself walking down the campus and being able to register what Hoseok’s favorite sitting spot was, under what specific tree; because he had told him. Or pushed himself to get weird stares by his colleagues for grabbing one donut too many because he recognized the strawberry filling ones that were Hoseok’s all time favorites and was considering dropping them off to him.

It had been half a year, and by now, Yoongi could say he had opened up to Hoseok as well. He was more than happy to take his role as a listener to everything the younger had to say. As useless as it was, Yoongi would soak it up even when he didn’t mean to; and he had come to accept that. But, Hoseok didnt let it happen, always attentive, always considerate; asking Yoongi’s input into anything their conversation had decided to settle on. Asking for Yoongi’s favorite spots on campus, or what donuts did he reach for first when they brought some into the professors’ room.

And Yoongi… he soaked up all that attention Hoseok gave him, too.

It didn’t take long until they learnt the other’s schedule, sometimes using their own breaks to stop by the other’s class; just to see one another during the day. He’ll never forget the first time Hoseok came to visit as Yoongi was finishing one of his own classes, and widened at the different graphs and drawings that took over all the chalkboard.

They were definitely friends, of course they were by now, but Yoongi couldn’t help but think that their friendship had something more special to it. Maybe it was the way the older just felt safe and soothed whenever he was talking with Hoseok, or the way Hoseok didn’t shy away from showing how much he enjoys Yoongi’s company.

They were friends but they treated each other, just a little bit softer than the rest of their friends.

Which didn’t have to mean anything, of course. Different people have different dynamics and it just so happens Hoseok takes out the gentler side of the engineering professor. Just like it also happens to be Hoseok the one who takes out all the butterflies caged in Yoongi’s chest.

Well… maybe this different dynamic does mean something… To Yoongi at least; and he has come to accept that fact. He had reached an age where he didn’t really think he could get a crush again, yet here he is.

Considering his feelings, he had felt a little hesitant to initiate anything with Hoseok outside their work hours; a little voice in his head telling him not to abuse the younger’s friendliness because of his own ill intentions. Hoseok made him happy as is, and he should be content with that.

Surprisingly it’s the literature professor who, during the peak of exam season, offers to hang out and correct exams together. The little voice reminded Yoongi of his ‘ill intentions’ , but, like he keeps saying: he is simply a little weaker when it comes to Hoseok. And that first time, getting to see Hoseok outside their university, at the doorstep of his apartment which he had organized very last minute, casual clothes, beer pack in hand, gentle smile on his face. Yoongi feels himself fall in love all over again.

Yeah… He is in love, by now he had come to accept it.

Maybe he should be nervous, but he wasn’t, not really. How could he be when Hoseok had become his safe space? No amount of romantic feelings could change that.

They laugh, they drink, they revise exams, they drink again, laugh some more; Yoongi finds out Hoseok is a lightweight. Third beer bottle is halfway done as the literature professor slurredly tries to write feedback onto the back of an exam.

“You doing alright there?” Yoongi can’t help the amusement and endearment in his voice.

All he gets is a slurred hum, and that’s all the response Yoongi needs. Still grinning as he stands up and comes back with a glass of water to Hoseok, who seems to be in some sort of trance staring at the universe. “Drink up, handsome.” He swears it was meant to sound teasing, but a blush betrays Yoongi spreading on his cheeks.

Hoseok doesn’t seem to dwell on it, thank fuck; rather focuses on drinking his water slowly and in a way that is too endearing for Yoongi’s heart to bare. He watches as Hoseok downs the glass, trying hard not to focus on the way his Adam’s apple bobs up and down, stop staring at his neck in general, creep, and rather rubb the younger’s back.

He finishes the glass and he leans his head on the table groaning.

“I think you’ve done enough grading for tonight.” He chuckles enamoured. “Think you can take a ride home?” Hoseok still has his cheek squished against the table and eyes fully closed when he nods. “Ok, Seok, up.” He instructs softly, squatting down as his hands reach for Hoseok’s middle. Surprisingly cooperative, Yoongi manages to get the younger buckled up in the passenger seat of the car looking dazedly out the window.

It's… pleasant, Yoong thinks. The silence is always comfortable with them, and he gets to drive around the deserted city with simply the knowledge that Hoseok is by his side. He makes sure to take his liberties stealing glances at the younger, his face angelical even when confusedly staring into nothingness.

“Here we are.” Yoongi feels the need to announce it given they’ve stopped and the drunk man hadn’t made any sign of moving… He still hasn’t. “Uhm… Hoseok?” He offers trying his best not to smile a little amused at the situation.

It looks like it physically costs effort for him to open his lips to speak. “Can you make sure… I actually go to bed?” His eyes barely meet Yoongi’s, quickly glancing somewhere else. It could be the older’s mind playing tricks on him, but even with the white street lights Hoseok’s cheeks still manage to have a beautiful pink tint. He is blushing, and it only makes Yoongi’s smile spread wider.

“You don’t seem like the type of drunk to cause any trouble.” He questions with a smile that already gives away his answer to Hoseok’s request.

“No, but I’ll fall asleep halfway into my apartment.” The younger man manages to smile lazily, dainty hand settles on his shoulder. And Yoongi feels himself swallowing thickly, no person should be allowed to look this good when they’re this pathetically drunk.

“That adds up.” He chuckles getting out of the car and turning around to open Hoseok’s door for him. “Look at that, you unbuckled your own belt. Impressive.” Yoongi teases as he takes Hoseok’s hand to help him stand.

“I’m drunk, not 5.” His playful tone and little smile makes the idea of Hoseok being annoyed at him less convincing. He is taller than Yoongi, yet he feels so much smaller when he is tiredly leaning his weight onto the older, a protective arm wraps around the literature professor as they walk inside Hoseok’s apartment complex.

Yoongi tries his hardest not to blush when the doorman eyes the two oddly and Hoseok mumbles a sleepy: “He’s with me.” with his head buried deep into the engineering professor’s shoulders. And keeps it there all through the elevator ride… and all through their slow walk around the hallway… and it’s still there as Hoseok clumsily tries to type in the security code for his door.

He doesn’t want it to go away, the weight of the younger’s head on his shoulder giving him a sense of pride that makes Yoongi want to swell his chest up. But Hoseok keeps failing to type in his code, with his nose buried into Yoongi’s neck.

“I think you might need to look at the keyboard to actually type the code.” His hand rubs up and down Hoseok’s side, with a smile that’s too fond; though the younger can’t see from where his head is resting.

Hoseok groans. “Can’t we just be comfy?” The older specifically loves the way Hoseok assumes this position is comfortable for the two of them.

“Wouldn’t we be much more comfortable on your bed?” Yoongi swears he didn’t mean to say that. And he knows if the other were sober, he definitely wouldn’t brush past it.

Drunk Hoseok, however; he hums as if thinking it through “Yeah… We would be more comfy there…” He sounds so serious about it, like he was actually considering just staying here for the rest of the night, comfortably settled against Yoongi; the older can’t help giggling. Too cute.

“Put the code, then.” He urges, big hand squeezing at where it is settled on Hoseok’s waist.

It’s his first time going into the literature professor’s apartment, it is very neat, even if it’s filled to the brim with books. Yoongi tries to take in as much as he can, while still helping Hoseok balance himself as he takes off his shoes and coat: the hanged pictures, the bookshelves, the toys. Hoseok owns toys: stuffed animals and figurines adorning his couch and bookshelves; Yoongi is a little stunned as they walk by. He never would have guessed.

“Room is at the end of the hallway.” Hoseok mumbles, not only his head falling back on the older’s shoulder, but his arms wrap around Yoongi’s middle.

Right… He has to make sure Hoseok gets to bed.

There’s a knot at Yoongi’s stomach, but he nods; slowly walking towards the closed door. Despite seeming impossible, his room has more bookshelves, bed adorned with a few more odd looking plushies. It’s so Hoseok, the older can help his heart as it does a little flip. The younger settles on his bed, sitting down before letting his back fall. Yoongi doesn’t know what to do with himself; staring feels a bit inappropriate, yet he doesn’t know if leaving him in such a state is much of an option.

“Should I…-”

“I just sleep in underwear.”

They both speak at the same time. Yoongi’s cheeks blush a furious red, Hoseok seems unfazed. He already managed to get the younger to bed. After all this time he had meant Yoongi had to tuck him in?!

“O–Oh, okay.” He doesn’t know what else to say. Then, similar to a toddler, Hoseok raises up his arms. It takes Yoongi a full second to realize; and when he does, his face gets simpossibly redder. With timid hands, he slides Hoseok’s shirt off his torso delicately. Yoongi is pretty sure he isn’t breathing, but he can’t bring himself to do so, the moment too fragile for him to possibly ruin it. The little voice in his head tells him it’s immoral to stare, but he does anyway; admiring Hoseok’s lightly tanned, slim body.

It seems he is Yoongi only one of the two with the professor-chubs, huh.

His blatant staring is interrupted by Hoseok popping his torso heavily onto the bed, legs extending forward in Yoongi’s direction. The older feels his heart stop completely. Yoongi is so thankful that Hoseok isn’t sitting upright so he can’t see the tremble of his hands as they hover above the button of his jeans.

He has to hurry, otherwise Hoseok will get suspicious, and he’ll notice Yoongi making things weird.

He feels like a teenager all over again.

He undoes the button, slowly pulling the zipper down. Yoongi’s slim fingers slide barely underneath the waistband of his jeans and start tugging down. He tries his best to be gentle, but with Hoseok’s dead weight on the bed it’s a little hard; college professors aren’t known for their strength. So he makes the younger’s body rock back and forth on the bed until he gets the pants out of the pool by his calves and finally takes it out.

Huh, Yoongi totally would have considered Hoseok a boxer’s guy.

He somehow feels he shouldn’t say that outloud, or shouldn’t hint at paying attention to Hoseok’s underwear at all.

Or maybe, he is just overestimating drunk Hoseok.

“All done, you just need to wash your teeth.” He says simply instead, and the man plopped down gorans dramatically. His thighs even clench at the loudness of it, not that Yoongi was staring.

“I need to get up?! Again?” He looks up at Yoongi with a disbelieved expression, like suddenly brushing your teeth was the most ridiculous idea anyone could propose. Yoongi has to hold back a laugh. “Why didn’t you make me go brush before I laid down!?” He sounds so insulted but his lips have the softest pout to them.

“You plopped on the bed before I got the chance to, genius.” Yoongi finds himself rolling his eyes, all the tension that had accumulated in his body minutes before had dissipated. Even with so much of the expanse of Hoseok’s sin staring back at him, so much so quickly that Yoongi had never gotten to see; the man in front of him is still the safest place. “Come on, Seokie, up.” It feels like a dejavu from getting him out of Yoongi’s apartment.

Hoseok’s hands are so dainty in his own, he pulls him up gently; chests bumping together softly. Soft chuckles as their noses brush, Yoongi can feel his own adoring smile. “Careful.” He mumbles, his hands squeezing into Hoseok’s. All the response he gets is a grumble, eyes barely opened as they stare directly at Yoongi, shamelessly.

As sleepy as his gaze is, and as cute as the pout on his lips is, Yoongi can’t help it but feel somewhat intimidated, there’s something blatant about the way the younger is looking at him. And even if he can’t put a name to it, it still manages to make Yoongi shiver the slightest bit.

He wastes no more time of Hoseok being forced to stand and rather guides him slowly towards the bathroom. Graceful Hoseok, elegant, diligent inside the classroom, that same man is looking down at his feet with a concentrated pout and frown as he takes heavy steps following Yoongi. It’s endearing enough for a giggle to slip out past his lips.

The bathroom is only a little cramped but, it’s not like it matters; Yoongi was already holding Hoseok close to him already. Lets the younger lean against him as he has to balance his sleepy legs into picking up toothbrush and toothpaste. Yoongi allows himself to stare, even if it’s quiet and obvious he is doing so. There’s something so domestic about the sight, he can’t tear his eyes away; exposing himself through the evident adoration in his stare.

Hoseok doesn’t pay him any attention, washing his teeth with sleepy long blinks. Only noticing Yoongi through the mirror once he is washing his lips, sleepy as he straightens back up, and when he is back to leaning against the older, he turns his head to face him. Face looking sleepy and ethereal as ever.

And Yoongi must have gotten too caught up staring at the sleepy glimmer of Hoseok’s eyes because nothing could have prepared him for the slow, soft meeting of the younger’s lips on his.

Hoseok kisses him like he is the most precious thing in the world; a gentle peck that makes his eyes flutter close relaxed. Not Yoongi though, his eyes are wide like plates until the younger separates.

His mouth opens and closes a few times before he manages to speak. “Why….Why did you do that?” Yoongi has a hard time finding his own voice, opting for a soft whisper. Part of him thinking this was all just an elaborate hallucination.

“I didn’t want to do it with bad breath!” He whines like he was being antagonized for doing something completely normal; and not kissing your friend/coworker.

Yoongi doesn’t know what to do with himself, or with the Hoseok laying against his body, staring at him expectantly. He feels his face begin to heat up with what is most probably a deep blush. “Uhm… Well I appreciate that.” He tries to say as neutral as possible, getting his hold back on Hoseok to get him to his bed.

The younger is pliant in Yoongi’s hold, letting himself be dragged as he tiredly lets his head fall against Yoongi’s chest. “You appreciated the kiss too though, right?” Hoseok’s voice is gentle, unsure. And it probably doesn’t help that the older one takes a second to reply; too busy trying to control the tug at his heartstrings.

He is back to guiding the younger out of his own bathroom, only replying once he manages to set Hoseok down on the bed as gracefully as he can; only then, when worried self conscious eyes are staring up at Yoongi.

“I do appreciate it, so much.” He mumbles gently with a gummy smile spreading his lips softly. And Hoseok looks so visibly relieved by this, it earns a chuckle from the older. Yoongi is leaning over, hand pressed to the pillow so close to Hoseok’s soft locks it could just– fuck it.

He runs his hands through the younger’s hair, just to see the way his eyes close relaxed by it. “I’ll get going, yeah?” A little voice in his head urges him to not leave Hoseok’s side, to stay until he gets another kiss from those addictively soft lips.

But another, more rational, voice tells him he’ll have all the time in the world to do that.

Hoseok looks unconvinced though, it takes an endeared smile and a kiss at his temple for him to look somewhat pleased. “Fine.” Yoongi has to hold himself back from leaning to peck the pout off his lips. “Will I see you tomorrow?”

“Text me when you wake up.”

Yoongi can feel how different everything is from the moment he watches Hoseok walk towards him at the little campus cafe. His eyes are a little groggy stil, and a pout is still on his lips; he looks like he has a hangover, basically.

And Yoongi is still so, so stupidly enamoured by this man.

“Morning.”

“How are you so upbeat? You aren’t even a morning person.” Hoseok grumbles, obviously cranky, taking a seat beside Yoongi instead of infront of him. Their shoulders touch as well as their thighs.

“I know this may come as a surprise to you, but not all of us get drunk from a couple of beers.” Yoongi teases softly, turning to side eye him.

“I’m not sorry.” He smiles turning to face the older. Their noses brush similarly to how they did last night. Now it should be different though, the morning fills the small cafe of busy people trying to get on with their day, not private, not imitate, not one bit romantic. They don’t need it to be, though; they managed to fall in love in the simplest of ways; through Yoongi’s obvious love for literature.

#anon #reuqest #bts fanfic #bts fic #sope #min yoongi #jung hoseok #professor au #fluff #romantic #pining #happy ending

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savemefromanepicoftimewasted · 3 years

Text

My Best Pal

Steve Rogers X OFC Bucky Barnes X Reader Cap was the best thing to happen to Steve, he was the reason Steve had found the love of his life and gotten married. Three kids sitting together in the dining room, laughing at whatever one of them had seen. This was truly his life. a/n:this is the final fic to my Steve and Captain series, and I just want to say to everyone whose read it, thank you so much, this honestly made me cry like a baby when I finished it, but it’s something that I’ve loved to write, and I hope everyone loved it too, thank you <3

Steve took a slow, deliberate breath.

He was taking Rosie, and Aj to their first day of senior year, where had all the time gone? It felt like just yesterday he was holding them for the very first time. Haley was heading into her sophomore year of highschool, that didn’t help ease his anxiety.

“Dad, things are gonna be fine, we’ve been going to this school for years.” Rosie shrugged nonchalantly.

Steve ran a hand over his face, scratching his beard absentmindedly.

“That isn’t what worries me sweetpea, I just miss you guys all the time.” Steve smiled softly, resting his free hand on Rosie’s shoulder.

“We know, mom tells us all the time.” Rosie patted his hand, grabbing her bag from the floor.

All three kids slipped out of the truck, waving behind themselves as they headed inside the school. They’d made friends, but no one ever usually came over to their house.

It wasn’t because Steve was opposed to people knowing that his kids attended the school, it was that the kids were respecting his personal space, his privacy. Being an Avenger had taken a lot from him, and being in his house was the one place no one could bother him.

Steve grabbed his phone, dialing a number he’d know by heart even without the eidetic memory.

“Babe, they’ve been out of the car for two minutes, come home already.” Krista’s voice was soothing, a gentle reminder of what he’d go home to.

“You know how I get when they start school.” Steve glanced at himself in the rearview mirror.

The gray he’d started to notice when the twins were toddlers had slowly started to make it’s way over his entire head, even going as far as making its way into his beard.

He’d accepted it after a couple of years, knowing there was nothing he could do to prevent his aging. Then again, Bucky was in the same boat as him, though the gray seemed to affect him more in his beard rather than his hair.

Y/N, and Krista had started calling them silver foxes, much to the kids dismay. Apparently there’s nothing worse than hearing your mother call your father sexy. They of course didn’t care choosing to annoy the twins, Haley, Becca, and Sammy all the time.

Steve took the long route home, enjoying the scenery that was New York almost absentmindedly. It’d been a long time since he’d been able to just drive away without a real destination in mind. Sure, he was going home to the dogs and Krista, but right now he was simply enjoying the drive.

Maybe he could pick up breakfast for them, something they hadn’t had in a while, a nice treat to distract him from the kids being at school all day.

“Sir, your wife has texted a few times over the past few minutes, it seems urgent.” Steve felt his heart jump into his throat.

“Can you read the texts?” Steve gripped the steering wheel tighter, palms sweating as he stared out the windshield.

Krista:Babe, are you taking the long way home again? You know how I feel when you do that.

Krista:Hey, there was a package delivered, but there’s no note, were you expecting something?

Krista:Steven Grant, there is something inside the box, and I swear to god if you’re not home in the next five minutes.

Krista:If this is a prank you’re sleeping on the couch for a month! “Would you like me to send a reply?” Friday’s voice sounded far away, almost as if she was talking inside of a tunnel.

“Tell her I’ll be home in two minutes.” Steve pressed down on the gas pedal, the speedometer needle rising much higher than he’d ever driven in the truck before.

It could handle the speed no problem, but he wasn’t about to risk anything when it came to his wife’s safety.

Cap and Grant were most likely watching the door intently, even in their old age they were determined to keep the house safe whenever Steve was out of the house. Right now though, he needed to protect them no matter what. They weren’t as spry as they once were, even if Steve could say the same for himself.

He pulled into the driveway haphazardly, parking the truck before jumping out and running over to where the box was laying in front of the door.

Krista had been correct, the box was definitely moving, but there didn’t seem to be anything dangerous about it, no toxic gas oozing out, or any kind of bomb.

“What the hell?” Steve knelt down, gently prying open the top of the box, coming face to face with what seemed to be a German Shepherd puppy. The dog was small, smaller than even Grant was when they adopted him.

He pulled the puppy out carefully, checking for any kind of note to give him an answer as to why there was a dog on his front steps. Besides what looked to be a blanket, there was nothing indicating as to why there was a small puppy on his porch.

“Doll? Do you know anyone whose dog was having puppies?” Steve grabbed the box before nudging his way inside.

“No, cause all of our friends either don’t have animals, or have cats.” Krista stepped around the couch slowly, almost nervously.

Cap came over to sniff the small pup, snuffling when he realized it was another dog. Grant on the other hand was ready to play with him, even if Steve was reluctant to set him down.

“There was no note or anything, he was just kind of sitting out there.” Steve bundled up the pup closer to his chest, frowning when he realized they were shivering.

Krista cooed softly, stroking her fingers over their fur.

“They’re so small, was Grant this small when we got him?” Steve knew immediately she was going to want to keep him, and who was he to deny her? Considering the dog had been placed in their laps essentially.

The other two dogs walked away after a few moments, seeming to realize Steve wasn’t going to let the small dog play with them, at least not yet.

“He’s not underfed, just maybe still growing.” Steve was afraid he’d accidentally hurt the small pup, listening to the soft whines he was letting out.

“Let’s take him to the vet, see if there’s anything wrong with him first.” Krista grabbed any necessities before leading Steve, who was still holding the puppy, out to the truck.

Sure it would’ve been easier to have Friday do a quick scan to check for any abnormalities, or fleas, but they needed to be absolutely certain. Plus, if they’d planned on keeping him, there were plenty of different things to get first.

“God, he’s so small.” Steve glanced down at the pup, noticing how he’d started to burrow himself into Krista’s arms.

Maybe he was scared, of the world, of going somewhere else he wasn’t entirely sure about. The only conclusion Steve could really come to, was that he was curious.

The vet was all too happy to take them back once they arrived, examining the puppy for any fleas, or diseases he might have. He was a trooper through everything, even when the vet mentioned shots.

Well, he may have whined for a brief moment when the needle came into his sights. Steve wasn’t even a fan of needles, and he was a supersoldier.

“From what I can tell he seems to be in perfect health, no fleas, no rabies, not even a hint of anything negative. You said he was dropped on your doorstep?” The vet seemed confused, but also concerned for any of the possible brothers or sisters.

Steve couldn’t tear his gaze away from the pup, curiosity getting the better of him. Would it really be so bad if he had any siblings, another dog to add to the family?

“Steve, don’t you dare.” Krista wasn’t so much glaring at Steve, as she was staring him down slightly disappointed.

“C’mon, Cap needs someone to play with at home.” Steve wasn’t afraid to use his own puppy eyes, knowing it worked every time.

She sighed softly, running a hand through her hair. The dog was in good health, and Cap could use the exercise right now.

“Don’t tell the kids about him just yet, that’s all I’m asking.” Krista stepped over to the pup, fingers dug into his coarse fur.

Steve smiled, content that they’d be able to give this puppy a forever home, even with three rambunctious teenagers.

“How hard could it be anyway?” They’d taken care of three kids all under the age of five at once, this would be a cake walk.

3 ½ Months Later Steve ran after Sarge, nearly skidding across the floor as the puppy sprinted into the kitchen. Krista paid neither of them any mind, stirring together the pie mixture she’d been working on all morning.

“Gotcha!” Steve held Sarge up in the air, laughing when the puppy wiggled and barked.

“You know, it’s christmas morning and the most you’ve done is be outdone by a dog, again.” Krista snickered, pouring the mixture into the pie crust next to her.

Steve scoffed, setting Sarge down onto the ground. No one else had known they’d gotten another dog, everyone more concerned with how Cap was doing. His muzzle was spotted with gray, matching Steve’s own beard and hair.

“The kids are all in the dining room, probably texting everyone to see when they’re coming over.” Steve stepped over to Krista, arms wrapped around her waist as she hummed happily.

Steve knew the first people to arrive were going to be Bucky and his family, they always came almost an hour early. Nothing with being punctual.

“Gifts are all wrapped and ready to be handed out when everyone’s here, though I don’t think Cap’s gonna be up for much fun today.” It was pretty obvious that he chose to relax more often, laying in his bed while Sarge ran around the house.

They’d lost Grant the year prior, he’d given them plenty of love for the years he was on the earth, and everyone was grateful to have spent time with him.

“He’s getting old, but at least the kids were able to grow up alongside him.” Steve didn’t want to ever have to say goodbye to his best friend.

Cap was the best thing to happen to Steve, he was the reason Steve had found the love of his life and gotten married. Three kids sitting together in the dining room, laughing at whatever one of them had seen. This was truly his life.

“Can you really believe that they’re going to be graduating next year?” Krista sighed softly, running a hand through her hair, it was a nervous habit she’d picked up after dealing with three teens.

“I honestly can’t, but we knew they were going to graduate eventually. They’re gonna go off and do big things with their lives, make us proud.” Steve smiled softly, pressing a kiss to her cheek before straightening once more.

Everyone began to arrive quicker than Steve anticipated, the house soon buzzing with activity as everyone snacked on finger foods and passed out gifts to everyone.

“Alright, I just want to say thank you everyone for coming, I’m sure the kids loved their gifts since they’re all preoccupied.” Everyone chuckled, Tony playfully scoffing where he sat by Pepper.

“We’re all family, even if we aren’t blood relatives you’re all my family.” Steve raised his glass, sitting back down beside Krista on the couch.

The holidays used to be a tough time for Steve, Bucky included. Times were tough, people fighting on nearly a daily basis. T’Challa and Shuri had helped Bucky become the man he was today, someone with a family that loved him dearly.

Steve had never pictured himself having a wife and children, always worried about the next mission that came his way. When his best friend Cap was practically dropped into his lap he couldn’t complain, there were more important things to worry about.

“I gotta admit, even after all these Christmases, no present beats getting Cap.” Steve patted his head gently, watching the way he slumped against his very loved dog bed.

“I’d say the same thing, he’s been such an amazing part of this family.” Krista reached down, running her nails across his back gently.

Cap’s tail wagged almost lazily, enjoying the attention he was getting.

“I just hope Sarge doesn’t bother him too much, I don’t think he’d be able to handle too much play time.” Steve frowned slightly, Cap was laying around more often than not lately.

“He’s nearly twenty years old, I think Sarge will get the hint after a few tries.” Sarge was currently lounging by Bucky and Y/N, enjoying his belly rubs that Bucky gave him.

The party simmered down after dinner, guests leaving in small groups until the last ones to leave were Tony and Pepper.

“Good to see you again Cap, Steve.” Tony nodded to Steve before stepping out of the house.

Pepper was already waiting for him, Morgan playing on her phone in the back seat. Steve waited until they drove off before going inside, assessing the damage of the living room.

Sam and Bucky had helped clean up before heading out, mentioning that they had early mornings and needed to be on the road. Steve wasn’t one to complain, they hosted Christmas in their home every year anyway.

“Don’t stay up too late, the kids are already in bed.” Krista pressed a kiss to his cheek, before heading up to their bedroom.

Steve took a deep breath, getting into the mindset to deep clean before crawling into bed.

Cap followed him around for a few minutes before deciding Steve wasn’t doing anything fun and lying down once more. Sarge joined him after a while, curling up by Cap’s side and promptly falling asleep.

Steve finished cleaning at nearly one in the morning, shutting off the lights before heading up to bed.

His life was perfect, it didn’t matter what had happened in the past, everything in that moment was perfect. And it was all thanks to his best friend, Captain.

Captain “Cap” the dog 2019-2039

#steve rogers #steve rogers fic #steve rogers and his dog #steve rogers fandom #steve rogers fanfiction #steve rogers au #steve rogers fluff #christmas fluff #marvel #tony stark #pepper potts #sam wilson #bucky barnes

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starbuckie · 4 years

Text

Some Quarantine Lovin’ Chapter Five: Love is a Many Splendored Thing

Marvel Highschool! AU

Pairing: Bucky x Reader

Warnings: Obscene amounts of fluff, kissing, swearing, kinda a lot of angst

Description: Bucky Barnes is absolutely, no doubt about it, in love with Y/N L/N. He’s loved her since the day he laid eyes on her in the third grade. He loved her when he had his own girlfriend, and when he was barely friends with her for a whole summer. And of course, in his freshman year, they are now stuck together. In a house. During a worldwide quarantine. This should be fun.

**WARNING: MENTIONS OF DEATH, CAR CRASH, MENTIONS OF ABUSE, AND INJURY IN THIS CHAPTER**

Words: 5,207 words

A/N: Hey guys! We’re almost at the end of this series, and I’m a little sad. This was my first ever fic, so it’s always gonna be my baby. This chapter deals with death, mentions of abuse, and a car crash, so if you didn’t see my warning above, and you are triggered by any of these things, please do not read because I don’t want to upset any of you. However, if you do read and find something offensive, please please contact me and I will do my best to fix it, and I don’t mean any harm at all, and am sorry in advance. Also, I listened to this “howlos” playlist while writing this and it is an absolute masterpiece. Moving on from that, thank you so much to my beta @transparentfestivaltiger as always, and thank you for reading!

(also seb looks like a freakin’ baby here)

Things didn’t change as much as Bucky thought they would after he and Y/N confessed to each other. They still had the same sweet friendship from before, but now they could sneak in a kiss or two, and there were a lot more heated glances and affection.

As soon as Y/N’s parents had come home that evening, they knew exactly what had happened. Of course, Mary and Charlie L/N had known that the pair of best friends liked each other: it had been obvious since the third grade. Though Y/N and Bucky may have not realized it that early, they had practically been an old married couple since the beginning of their friendship. Now that they were in a “relationship”(or as much of one as they could be in while quarantined together), they weren’t allowed to sleep in the same room together, and they were watched a lot closer. While Bucky blushed and apologized every time Y/N’s parents caught them kissing, Y/N laughed. She knew her parents were happy for her, and frankly, it was adorable to see Bucky turn into a bumbling mess.

It had only been two weeks into quarantine when they had kissed, so they unfortunately still had to go to classes. Of course, no one else knew about it but their friends, but Bucky wanted to yell it to the world, thus having him proclaim, “I kissed Y/N L/N!” in their physics class, which disturbed Mr. Fury, but he congratulated them nonetheless. Yeah, there was non stop teasing from their classmates after that.

The weeks kept rolling by, and soon enough, they had a week off of school for spring break, when Bucky took his best girl on a date. The two claimed to be in a relationship, but after Sam pointed out that Bucky had never actually asked Y/N out on a first date, he panicked. With the help of her parents, he managed to pull off a date at Prospect Park, right by the big lake. Bucky had insisted on being a “proper gentleman” like his mama has taught him, and went so far as to pick Y/N up from the front door, which her parents swore was the cutest thing they had ever seen. He made his mom’s old pumpkin pancake recipe, and they had breakfast for lunch, sitting in the grass, just talking for hours, and trying to refrain from removing their masks so they could make out with each other. Once it had finally hit evening, they walked hand in hand on the way back to her house and spent the rest of the night watching movies and cuddling.

After that, the duo wanted to spend the rest of spring break catching up on sleep that they had missed, but Y/N’s mom forced them to wake up at eight in the morning every day that week to get exercise. Neither of them were pleased. However, as much as they disliked the exercise, it gave them a chance to be alone. Y/N and Bucky went on tons of walks around Brooklyn, strolling down memory lane as they found someplace that they had forgotten about from when they were younger. It was nice for the two of them to just talk about their futures and how much the virus would affect it.

Spring break was unwillingly coming to an end, but Mr. L/N refused to let either one of the students be seen in online classes until they had cut their hair. Sure, it was only mid-April, but Bucky’s hair had turned into a messy flop of brown hair that fell just past his ears. While Y/N opted to cut her hair herself(which resulted in a choppy, uneven cut that Bucky and her family made fun of), Bucky asked Y/N to cut it for him.

“Are you sure, Buck?” She chided. “You saw how mine came out, and you make fun of it, yet you still ask me to do it?”

The messy-haired boy sat in a chair in the bathtub, in just his boxers, holding a spray bottle of water. “Y/N, your hair may look like shit,” he grinned at her face of mock offense, “But I trust you completely with mine. Plus, you’ll actually be looking at it while you cut.”

“I was looking when I did my hair!” Y/N argued.

Bucky laughed at her exasperation. “If you were looking in the mirror while cutting that, it makes it so much more sad.” She scoffed at his witty comeback and snipped off a piece of his hair. “Hey, give me a warning!”

“Sorry, baby,” she giggled. “Are you ready now?” With a deep exhale and nod of his head, Y/N took the spray bottle from his hands and began to dampen his hair. It didn’t take too long, just a few quick snips by the base of his neck, and she considered it done, and a hell of a lot less scruffy looking. She had spent her last day of break looking at styles and instructions on how to cut hair on Pinterest, and while she knew she wasn’t a professional, she thought she did pretty damn well.

“Okay, Buck, you can look now.” Y/N handed him a small compact mirror, and he dramatically squeezed his eyes shut. Rolling her eyes at his reaction, she said, “Come on, quit being a drama queen. I think you look very handsome.”

Finally, Bucky opened his eyes and looked at his shorter cut. She was right, it didn’t look too bad, and he looked less “homeless” as her father had called it. Running a hand through his freshly cut hair, he grinned, but stopped after taking in her words. “Was I not handsome before, doll?” He wore a small frown on his face, which Y/N kissed off.

“Buck, you’re always handsome, don’t be silly.”

He smirked and pulled her onto his lap. “I know.”

She leaned her head down on his shoulder and whispered, “Cocky bastard.” He delivered a pinch to her hip, which made her yelp. Grinning, he kissed her and she turned in his lap to straddle him. Her hands slipped into his freshly cut hair and tugged, making him moan a little into her parted lips. During their make out, however, they didn’t hear the footsteps of Mrs. L/N, and only looked up when they heard her groan.

“Good lord, can you two not keep your hands off of each other for five goddamn seconds?” Y/N quickly got up from Bucky’s lap under her mom’s careful watch. “Ria is on the phone, right now, but I’ll tell her to call back.”

At the mention of her older sister, Y/N jumped out of the bathtub. “No! No, I'm here, let me talk to her!” She scrambled to get to the phone, but slipped on the bath mat and landed on the tile with an “oof”. Bucky, being the protective boyfriend he was, immediately got up and ran to her.

“Are you okay, doll?” Her nose was a little red from bumping it on the ground, but she grinned nonetheless. Ria’s laughter could be heard over the phone, and her mom was trying very hard to stifle her laughter. With a quick nod, she took Bucky’s hand and got up.

“I’m great! Ria, you’re a little shit.” The girl stalked over to the phone and started talking and squabbling animatedly with her sister on the call.

Bucky and Mrs. L/N took one look at each other and started cracking up together. She pulled him into a hug, and whispered, “You make her so happy, Bucky. Thank you so much.”

He looked up to this mother figure of his and shook his head. “No. Thank you, Mrs. L/N, for being so happy for us. To be honest, I didn’t think you or Mr. L/N would be too happy ‘cuz of my father.”

The older woman frowned at Bucky and looked at him dead in the eyes. “You have nothing to feel guilty about, Bucky. Your father doesn’t define you as a person and trust me, James, you are the best kid that I know. You take good care of your little sister and all who you love, and every day I think about how lucky your mother was that she got to have a kid like you.”

Bucky’s eyes started to fill with tears, but he managed to whisper out a “thank you” with a croaky voice. Dropping a kiss to his forehead, Mrs. L/N walked away, leaving him with a sad smile on his face until Y/N popped her head back into the bathroom.

“Buck! Ria wants to talk to us both! She misses you a ton.” He wiped the tears from his eyes, which Y/N noticed, but didn’t mention, and went to grab his hand to walk to her bedroom and talk to Ria.

School started again the next day, leaving the six students in their friend group complaining and nearly on the verge of crying within the first two classes. They didn’t have finals this year, but teachers still assigned them “tests”, which really were the same thing with a different name.

As it grew closer and closer to the end of the year, it became hotter and hotter, Y/N and Bucky becoming sweaty messes in their study rooms. One particular early May afternoon, Y/N sat in her bedroom, waiting for her play rehearsal to start. This year, they were (going) to put on a production of Steve Martin’s Picasso at the Lapin Agile. She was cast as Freddy, the local Parisian bartender, so she was working on her accent with her lines from her script.

“Yeah, well, we're all writers, aren't we? He's a writer that hasn't been published, and I'm a writer who hasn't written anything.” Y/N spoke loudly. From behind her, she heard a booming laugh.

Bucky stood in her doorway, grinning, no shirt on due to the blaring hot weather. “If that was your French accent, then you definitely need to keep working on it.”

He walked into the room, swooping down to place a kiss on Y/N’s awaiting lips. His arms would’ve wrapped themselves around her shoulders, but she quickly pushed him back. Chucking at his frowning expression, she said, “It is way too hot to be hugging me right now, but we can settle for a romantic high five.”

“A what?”

She sighed like it was the most obvious thing. “Well, as much as I would love to, I cannot hug you right now because it’s too hot. What I can offer you, however, is a romantic high five. A high five that says, we’re not just friends, but we’ve been dating for about a month and it’s not just platonic.”

Amused expression on his face, he plopped himself down on her bed. “And how would one share a ‘romantic high five’ with their ridiculously beautiful girlfriend?” Grinning, she walked over to him and gave him a high five while kissing him. He smiled against her lips, and asked, “Like that?”

With one more peck, she sat back in her seat and picked up her phone. “Exactly like that.” They were fools who were completely, and utterly in love with each other, though neither of them had said it to the other yet. Lovesick smiles painted on their faces, they both sat staring at each other until Mrs. L/N suddenly broke into the room, wide eyes teary and a frown on her face. Both of the kids looked to each other, then at the mom.

“Mom, what is it?” It was concerning for Y/N to see her mom in this panicked state, considering that her mom was well put together, and she had only seen her break down on a few occasions.

She turned to Bucky, and with a small voice, said, “It's your father, Bucky. He’s gotten into a crash.”

Silence.

That was all that was left in the room. When Bucky’s heartbeat stopped pounding, he could hear his harsh breathing and see Y/N in front of him, her hand covering his heart. “James, can you hear me? You passed out.” Her hand moved to his cheek to wipe off tears he hadn’t even known were falling. “My mom’s getting Becca into the car so we can go to the hospital, though I told her you might not want to go right now. He’s going to be in surgery for the next few hours, but it’s whatever you need, okay, James? Whatever you need.”

He sat up, grabbing Y/N’s hands and squeezing on to them tight. “I want to go.” Though Bucky was worried, he pulled himself together on the outside. Goddamn it, Barnes, he thought, pull yourself the fuck together. He knew he was being too harsh on himself, but it was part of his nature, and he couldn’t get rid of the nagging voice in his head telling him to do better. “I’ll go put a shirt on and meet you guys in the car. Do your parents have masks?” Y/N nodded, tears in her eyes, and placed a featherlight kiss to his forehead before he left.

He grabbed a hoodie from the guest room, and turned to leave, but saw Becca’s baby animal book. It had been his before, something his mom would read to him to calm him down, and he saw it as his comfort object. Snagging it from the bedside table, he ran through the halls and out the door, where he saw Mr. and Mrs. L/N sitting in the front, and Y/N waiting for him with the car door open on the left side. He and Y/N climbed into the back seat and strapped themselves in, trapping Becca in her car seat in between the two teens.

Becca’s pretty blue eyes were teary, and she whimpered quietly, almost as if she knew what was going on around her. She was just one year old, still so innocent, and wasn’t even aware that her father never looked after her, or beat her mother before she had died giving birth to her. Bucky grabbed onto her foot softly, an action that consoled Becca’s quiet cries.

The car rumbled beneath them, and Y/N looked over to Bucky on the other side of the car. His face was stoic, staring out of the window with a sheen of calm surrounding him. His eyes weren’t teary anymore, but she could see the storm that was brewing beneath them. She knew that he was worrying a lot, his thoughts probably a jumbled mess of negativity, and underlying guilt. It wasn’t his fault, not even close, but she knew for a fact he was blaming himself anyway. She reached over to lay her palm over the hand that was holding Becca’s foot, and Bucky looked over to Y/N’s eyes, and gave her a small, sad smile.

The rest of the car ride was silent, Y/N’s parents choosing to say nothing, knowing that Bucky didn’t want to talk. He would always get closed off with his emotions during hard times, and it took him a very long time to open up about his feelings. When the New York-Presbyterian Brooklyn Methodist Hospital came into view, Bucky’s heart started to beat at an alarming rate.

“Y/N, Bucky, how about we drop you off at the front, okay? Tell them that you are his son, they’ll help you.” Y/N’s mom was facing them, trying to remain calm. Bucky nodded, and when they pulled up to the front, the two students worked together to get Becca out of her seat and jump out of the car. Y/N hoisted the small baby up onto her hip as Bucky grabbed her hand and led them inside the doors.

The light was an unnatural blinding white, and people surrounded the waiting room with masks on. There were people sleeping, people tapping their feet nervously, and people looking like they would love nothing more than to get out of the room. Briskly, the two marched up to the reception desk. Surprisingly, it was Bucky who spoke up.

“Excuse me, ma’am, my name is James Barnes, I’m the son of George Barnes, and I believe he’s in surgery right now. His contacts are the same for all of us, and I think you called a Mary L/N to inform us of the accident.”

The pretty blonde at the desk looked surprised at the straightforward greeting from the young boy, but she just adjusted her mask over her nose a bit more and nodded. After a few seconds of typing, she turned to the side and grabbed a file of paperwork. “Hi James, my name is Tina, and I’m a nurse here. Your dad is going to be in surgery for about an hour more I believe, but here’s the paperwork that you or Mrs. L/N are going to need to fill out. If you have any questions, you can come ask me.”

With a quick thank you to Tina, the three children went to go sit in the back of the waiting room, where a small cluster of seats stood. Y/N texted her mom to let her parents know that they had made it inside quickly while Bucky started filling out the forms. “Wait, Y/N, can you ask your mom to bring the book that’s sitting in the backseat?”

He knew it was trivial, but he really needed that book. Y/N could see the pleading in his eyes, and nodded without question. She would have to ask him later. “Of course, James.” She always called him James during serious moments, knowing that it was what his mom called him, and it soothed him a lot. He continued to fill out the information he knew on the papers. About ten minutes later, Mr. and Mrs. L/N came in, masks on and book in hand from the parking lot. There was only one seat left, so Mr. L/N let his wife sit as he stood and looked around the area.

It was surprisingly very quiet for the next hour and a half. Bucky had finished the paperwork with the help of Mrs. L/N within thirty minutes, but he spent the rest of his time assuring Steve’s family he was okay on a phone call and reading the baby book to Becca over and over again.

“Not a hot dog; my hot dog.” Bucky spoke in a higher pitched voice than normal. He was always gentle with his little sister, wanting her to know that he was a calming, caring presence in comparison to his loud father. Becca pointed to the pigeon holding a hot dog on the page, giggling and spouting nonsensical baby gurgles.

Y/N smiled at the two, and closed her eyes while listening to Bucky read the children’s book. Though he had read it numerous times in their time in the waiting room, his soothing voice just lulled her to sleep even more. She hummed a song under her breath, and let sleep take over her.

“Mary L/N! Is there a Mary L/N in here?” A nurse dressed in baby blue scrubs and a mask entered the waiting room and Bucky shot out of his chair. Y/N rubbed the sleep out of her eyes and brought Becca closer to her chest. As Y/N’s mom raised her hand, the nurse walked towards them. “Can I talk to you alone please?”

Bucky and Y/N looked at each other with confusion written on their faces, but Mrs. L/N answered the kind nurse before Bucky could open his mouth. “Of course, lead the way.”

He knew what this meant. There was no other reason that the nurse would ask to speak to the parent alone, and his heartbeat started speeding up again. A lump rose in his throat, and he was barely able to say, “Can I hold my sister please?” Y/N nodded, knowing what the nurse and her mom were talking about as well. She handed the now quiet baby over to his shaking hands, and looked into his eyes.

They didn’t even shed a tear.

Bucky could barely remember walking down the white hallways, turning the corner, taking deep breaths and holding onto Mrs. L/N’s hand. Y/N and her dad weren’t allowed in, as they were trying to keep as low of a number as possible inside the room, so he didn’t have the comfort of his girlfriend being there with him as he faced one of his greatest fears.

The room was quiet when they entered, another nurse and a doctor standing at the foot of the bed where George Barnes lay. His eyes were shut from what Bucky could see, but his head was bruised and covered in a bandage, most likely covering a shaved head and gaudy scars. “He was drunk, James, he didn’t have control, and the other car didn’t see him either. He had serious trauma to the head, and a broken wrist when he entered surgery. George was in critical condition when he was brought in, but he died in surgery. I’m sorry.”

Bucky managed to nod numbly and look down at his dad. He didn’t know what to say to him. “We’ll give you a few minutes alone.” The nurses and doctor shuffled out of the room and Mrs. L/N placed a hand on the boy’s shoulder.

“Do you want me to leave, James?” Again, he softly nodded without a word and didn’t look up as her footsteps echoed away in the empty room. Bucky secured his arms around Becca better as he walked over to take his father’s cold hand.

Bucky could only hear his heartbeat, as all the monitors were off. Even his little sister was quiet, her small squirms nonexistent. He took a few deep breaths through his mouth,and let them out through his nose. His blue eyes focused on his father’s hands, ones that used to bring him so much pain and suffering, that now laid limp and still. Finally, Bucky let out the three words that he had never heard back from his father.

“I love you.” Pause. Becca started moving around again, but he shushed her gently. “I think that’s all that needs to be said. Goodbye.”

He placed a soft kiss on his dad’s temple, and left quickly. As soon as he opened the door, he pushed past all the people waiting for them to be done and made his way back to Y/N in the waiting room. He could hear the doctor calling his name after, but Mrs. L/N must have stopped him because he stopped hearing it after a while. Y/N stood up when she saw Bucky, but he silently grabbed her hand and led them outside. Glancing over her shoulder, she shooed her dad away, and followed him outside.

She didn’t speak until they were back in the car. They had walked around for a while, realizing they didn’t know where it was. Settling into their seats, Y/N took the bottle of hand sanitizer from the front seat cup holder and squeezed some into both of their hands. “Are you okay, James?”

He looked at her with a straight face. “Yeah.” She frowned with his short answer, but she knew he wasn’t telling the whole truth.

“Bucky, you know it’s okay to cry, it’s just me here. It’s okay to let your emotions out sometimes. You can talk to me, like always.” She reached over to take his hand, but he moved it away. She knew it was just part of what he was feeling, but she couldn’t help but to feel hurt either way.

“I don’t need to let my emotions out, I’m fine,” he responded in a clipped voice. Y/N nodded softly and placed her hand on Becca’s foot, wondering what had happened. Sure, Bucky had had times where he wouldn’t talk to anyone, but eventually she would always be able to get to the bottom of it and support him. This new, closed off feeling from him was different for her, and she didn’t know what had gone wrong. It was quiet for the next twenty minutes as they waited for Y/N’s parents, and even then they barely spoke. As soon as they got back to the house in Brooklyn Heights, Bucky took Becca and immediately went to their room. Y/N let out a dejected sigh and started to head to her room to email the director of her play, when her mom stopped her.

“Honey, give him some time, okay? He’s just lost his father, and I know that he doesn’t like to talk about his feelings, but it’s different now. Both of his parents have passed, and it’s a really big change for him.” She brought her daughter into a hug and dropped a kiss on her cheek before retiring to her room. Y/N walked into her room, flopping on her bed, quiet tears for her boyfriend rolling down her face.

Bucky didn’t attend dinner that night, which was okay with the rest of them. Y/N was still having a hard time not going to his room and smothering him in sweet nothings and hugs, but she understood that he needed time to process the past few hours. Her mom was right: it was a huge change. He was now orphaned, and only fifteen. Eventually, he’d need new guardians, and none of his close family was alive, and his other relatives from Romania probably had no clue he existed.

At around one in the morning, when Y/N’s parents had fallen asleep, Y/N crept out of her room quietly to check on Bucky. The door creaked a bit when it opened, giving her a view of her boyfriend sitting cross-legged on the bed, shoulders shaking from his silent sobs. He looked up upon hearing the door open, and wiped his tears off as fast as he could. “Hey, doll.”

She didn’t say anything but simply pushed him back down onto the bed gently and wrapped her arms around him. It took a few seconds, but the tears started falling again, his crying quiet. Y/N just held him for a few minutes, as he let out his tears, and rubbed his chest soothingly. When he was done, he kissed her gently and said, “Thank you.” It took another few moments, but he started talking soon enough. “I shouldn’t be sad. Right? I mean, he’s the man who hit me and my ma relentlessly, and all my life has been nothing but hell because of him. I should be fucking celebrating right now. Right?”

His watery blue eyes stared into hers, and she sighed, taking Bucky’s hands and bringing them to a sitting position. “I think it makes sense.” Y/N whispered.

Makes sense? It made no sense to him. “How can you say that?” He questioned incredulously. “This man treated us like shit, he blamed Becca for my mom’s death, he would hit me, tell me I’m not good enough,and I still worked my ass off for him. He didn’t love us! And after all the shit he put us through, put me through, why do I still care? Why do I still love him? It doesn't make sense.” Hot tears slipped down his face again, as he whispered, “It doesn’t make sense.”

He started to cry again, and Y/N pulled his head into the crook of her neck as his arms latched like vices around her torso. Running her fingers through his short brown hair, she said, “It may not make sense to you, but no matter what, as horrible as he was, that man is still your father. What he did to you was evil, pure evil, it truly was, but I can understand why after everything you’ve been through, you still love him. It doesn’t make you less of a man or weak. It makes you stronger, and I can’t be more proud of the person you’ve become since I met you. You have nothing to feel sorry for, James Buchanan Barnes. This is not your fault. None of this is.”

She moved her lips to his, and they moved against each other languidly. “I love you, James.”

His eyes opened, and hers watered up at her confession. “I love you too, Y/N.” They brought their lips together again, her thumbs rubbing small circles onto his cheekbones as they breathed each other in. When they finally pulled away, Bucky had the smallest of smiles playing across his lips. “Thank you, Y/N.”

Y/N made sure Bucky was staring at her directly, and she spoke with a firm voice. “Whatever comes next, we’ll get through it together. I promise, James.” Pressing his lips against hers one more time, he grabbed his phone off the stand and started to swipe through it. “Are you okay, Buck? You need anything? We can talk more if you need.”

Opening Spotify, he opened his “Slow Dance with Y/N” playlist. “I Can’t Believe That You’re In Love With Me” by Billie Holiday started playing, and Y/N knew exactly what he was doing. Bucky had had the playlist since the sixth grade, when he first bought his phone with the money he earned from babysitting, and the pair had danced to it numerous times before he had started dating Dot. But he didn’t even play that with her. No, this one was for his best girl, no matter what. Y/N was too special to share with anyone. Offering her his left hand with a shy grin, Y/N smiled big with an eye roll and graciously accepted it.

“Oldies music again, Bucky?” She was teasing him, and he knew it as well. Y/N absolutely adored this playlist, that he made just for the two of them, with her entire heart. Pulling her flush against his chest, his right hand coming to rest on her waist, he kissed her hair lightly.

“Well, you have always called me old fashioned, sweetheart.” He twirled her around, her giggling as they danced around the room. Becca slept soundly in the crib and the moonlight illuminated their faces. “I think this song fits in well right now.”

Y/N sighed, letting her eyes close. “It really does.” After a few seconds, she remembered her previous question that had gone unanswered and asked again. “Are you sure you don’t want to talk about anything else, Buck?”

“I think I’m done, doll. I don’t want to talk about it anymore. Just wanna dance with you.”

And he did, softly dancing barefoot, with the occasional twirl, until falling asleep hours later. When Y/N’s parents came to check in on them the next morning, they smiled seeing their daughter and the boy she loved so dearly wrapped around each other, quiet snores escaping the both of them.

TAGLIST

@transparentfestivaltiger @barnesjamcs @kitkatd7 @adorkably

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purplepalmdelight · 4 years

Text

why life is still okay (rambling fic rec pt. 1)

firstly: shout out to @trulyalpha for apparently owning my entire bookmarks page on ao3 (bc i only realised all my favourite fics were written by the same person,,, yesterday. bc im really smart like that) anyway breakdown of why she’s a stoncy saving grace thanks!!!

you ease my mind, you make everything feel fine.

(https://archiveofourown.org/works/13842039)

yes this fic is from 2018. yes i read it every other week. it’s good for the SOUL. jonathan getting taken care of is always just such a good and sweet concept (maybe it’s my intense, undying love of him, but he deserves to be taken care okay) and. okay i’ll admit, sometimes i forget how fucking FUNNY this fic is, but it’s genuinely hilarious, okay? you gotta trust me on this. it makes me cackle at inappropriate times absurdly often. ("Hi." "Hi." "I want you, you fuck." is a top line. i laugh so hard every TIME.) all three of them are so incredibly in character, and somehow this NAILS the fact that they’re all massive disasters pretending to be confident. and i’m not someone that reads ~smut~ often (though it’s more mentioned than described, very non-explicit) but this didn’t make me even the least bit uncomfortable. it felt very natural and in character and made me laugh as much as the rest of the story. all in all, i always come away a little more in love with the characters, and that’s a really precious feeling.

you could be the one to make me feel something

(https://archiveofourown.org/works/14269476/chapters/32912745)

i take back everything i’ve ever claimed. this IS the funniest piece of writing i’ve ever read, and it WILL remain so, probably until the day i die. i honestly... barely have words. my expectations were high when i started it, but in retrospect, they were LEAGUES below what i got. the characterisation, the progression, the dialogue, the story; from the overarching aspects to the tiny details, it’s impeccable. i genuinely read this twice in one day, and then again the next. every single part of it is so good, but in terms of FAVOURITES... the christmas section. hilarious. down to its bones, well crafted and heart felt. it hits me right in the chest every time. the story, from the beginning, has me just as in love with nancy and steve as jonathan is, and as everything grows more intense, so does my investment. it pulls me in and doesn’t let me go until it’s good and ready to see me leave. again, the sexy aspects are so in character and natural that it’s uncomfortable or weird to read and instead just leave me grinning like an idiot. also ( “It did frustrate me, in more ways than one. It’s also a weird plan, like … did you expect me to be so overwhelmed by the power of a boner that I’d just admit my feelings?” is SUCH a funny line, i think about it literally every day. literally. every. day.) the characters are afraid to be messy, to make mistakes, and they all feel so ALIVE that when i leave the story, i feel like i’m leaving a friend. it’s honestly beautiful and honestly breathtaking. this story is better than a lot of published books, honestly, and i’m so grateful for it. so thank you.

i crash my car ‘cause i wanna get carried away!

(https://archiveofourown.org/works/17131202)

...you really wanted to make me cry, huh? i cried out of grief, yeah, out of the depth of nancy’s guilt and the pure rawness of her mourning, but i also cried out of catharsis as she came to terms, and out of laughter a few times. the bit about total eclipse of the heart as a motif was... that was so well done. i hate drawing comparisons, so please understand that this is criticism of a concept and not a particular story, but in so many stories then nancy’s grief feels... trivialised? that’s not quite the right word. romanticised, maybe. as someone who has lost a friend in the past, it’s just... it doesn’t feel realistic? and that’s okay, because it’s hard to nail something you haven’t experienced, and i wouldn’t wish the experience on anyone. it’s just that stories like this, where i can really resonate with nancy and follow the journey of her recovery WITH her are so rare. this story is a gem, it really is. i don’t love it for all the same reasons as the others, but i love it fiercely all the same.

there’s nothing magic going on, and then along came you

(https://archiveofourown.org/works/14994137)

sure, you could be the one is the funniest fic i’ll probably ever read, but nothing magic is such a close second. it’s laugh-out-loud, get-tears-in-your-eyes, fall-out-of-your-chair, and it’s also so goddamn SWEET i can hardly stand it. of the several fics i generally group together in my head (nothing magic, you could be the one + its sequels (might have to make an individual post about this series), laugh until we think we’ll die, and got nothing for you; all very similar, yet incredibly unique) nothing magic is the shortest, but that doesn’t mean it compromises on quality, oh no. it just means i can read it quicker, and therefore more often! when it’s late and i’m tired and i need a laugh to calm down before i sleep, i generally go search this fic up. remember when i mentioned the whole “being just as in love with nancy and steve as jonathan is” thing? it’s like that except... almost funnier. in you could be the one, it’s just that the story naturally tugs you into adoring these two messy, silly, sweet, amazing young adults, because how could you not? how else could you possibly feel? but here, they are genuinely just... that funny. they are actually just so funny that you as a reader click with them and find yourself grinning like an IDIOT because oh my god you’re disasters. maybe it’s the inherent relatability of a tired highschooler trying to make it through the summer and hating his job along the way, but this fic hits right in the heart every damn time.

got nothing for you other than love

(https://archiveofourown.org/works/17596658)

"You trust me," she says.

They both know it's a fact, not question, but he still says, "Of course."

and

By then, his shell wasn't something he could step out of. It was part of him. But that was okay. He didn't need more. What he had was enough.

He always did have trouble with wanting more.

and

"Hey, babe?" Nancy turns her head to look at Steve, touching his shoulder. "Can you buy me a drink?"

"Sure thing. What d'ya want?"

"Surprise me. Not like that time we were here and you snuck out the store, went to a smoothie stand, and came back with a mango smoothie."

Steve grins. "But I did surprise you."

and

"Do you have food in the backseat?"

"The sandwich has only been there for like, two weeks—"

and

"Ugh. Too much cheese. I'm lactose-intolerant, remember?"

"False, you're not intolerant of anyone except people over the age of fifteen with bowl cuts and guys who wear shorts in the winter."

and

"Where are you off to? I'm your only friend," Kali says, frowning.

and

"You good, man?"

"Yeah," he says, his throat dry, "I'm great."

"Yeah, you are," Nancy says, and he is. He is.

and i can’t continue because that’s, like, barely halfway into the fic and i’ve already skipped so many of my favourite lines and i would have to skip so many more. you see what i mean about sathana being funny as hell? and like all the others, it’s not just the humour here. i mean... it is, because it’s SO FUCKING FUNNY I LITERALLY CANNOT SAY THAT ENOUGH but the reason it’s so funny is because it’s so candid. it’s so smooth. the whole thing flows. you’re not left feeling that you’ve missed a piece or that anything was sacrificed; you just feel like you’ve read something incredible. this fic is an experience of its own that i honestly have never experienced before. it’s sweet, and it’s gentle, and it’s just so overwhelmingly good that i don’t think i’ll ever quite get over it. in short? it’s a blessing. my expectations were high, but holy fuck did you blow them to bits.

one more favourite line:

Things are ending, things are starting, and everything looks bright. It won't always be that way. The sun's got to set at some point. But, gazing up at the sky, at the pink bleeding into orange, Jonathan figures it'll have to rise again. No matter what happens, these two things are constant.

"Hey, you look awfully lonely," Nancy calls out, walking towards him, reaching out to him with the hand not in Steve's.

Well. Maybe not just those two things.

that scene, in general, is beautiful, and it wraps the story up on such a genuine note. it feels like a film with how clearly i can picture it. it feels like no fic i’ve ever really read before. it feels... good. i guess i don’t really have the words. it just feels so good.

as an overall statement on why i call her my favourite author... it’s the realism. maybe that’s surprising, considering how many times i said “funny” or “hilarious” in here, but in the end, i wouldn’t be so attached to her work if it didn’t feel so real. i can open a tab and instantly get transported to a home i’ve never lived in. it’s comfortable. it’s sweet. and the dialogue/banter is always perfectly crafted. there’s just never really a downside to her fics, honestly. even if i wanted to search, i don’t think i’d find one. not even one of those “their only problem is that there’s not more to enjoy” kind of comments, because every single one feels perfectly crafted in its own right. it doesn’t need more or less. it stands for itself and it’s goddamn good at it.

i didn’t anticipate having to do multiple parts on this post, but- surprise surprise- i haven’t even gotten to my favourite one yet! so yeah, pt. 2 will be written after i finish the history essay trying to murder me, god knows when that is. in the meantime, please go give her some love and adoration. she deserves it.

#stranger things fanfiction #stranger things #stoncy rights pls #stoncy #steve harrington #jonathan byers #nancy wheeler #fic rec #like HARD rec pls read #and if anyone who has read these fics wants to geek out w me....... come one and do it #sathana stans unite amirite

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sparklydreamies · 4 years

Text

Best Shot

Group: Stray Kids

Genre: Fluff

Word Count: 4500+

Summary: Han Jisung, certified quiet boy, has never really understood the hype about love and romance. That is until he has to step out of his comfort zone and onto the basketball court to impress that one person he can’t stop thinking about

Main Themes: highschool!AU, basketball!AU, internalized homophobia, friends-to-lovers

a/n: Hi guys! This is my first time writing a slow burn, multi chapter fic! I worked very hard on this and I am proud of the results. I will try and upload more chapters regularly :) Enjoy!!

CHAPTER 1

From the outside, Han Jisung would seem to be the average high school senior. He goes to school, comes home, does his average two or three hours of homework, maybe picks up a shift at the bakery he works at, and tries his best to maintain his barely existent social life.

Jisung always has had a way of emitting this friendly air that all desirable friends have. There aren’t many people who have had a conversation with him that can honestly say that they dislike him. He would not be considered overly popular, or overly smart, or overly artistic; however, nobody could deny his good looks.

He had the type of face that many actors would kill for. Of course he knew this, but he tried hard to not define himself by it. He was used to getting the occasional side glace from his female classmates, or opening his locker to a love letter or two from some hopeful freshman that believed she had a chance with him.

The truth about Jisung was, perhaps he wasn’t as average as many would have suspected. Sure nobody really knew about it, but he wasn’t interested in those girls.

He's dated girls, he's kissed girls, but he has never once felt the spark from them that high school dramas and romance movies have trained him to expect. He walks around the school as the center of attention to some of these girls, and he can’t even seem to figure out why.

Maybe the whole thing is just overrated. Maybe movies and dramas have over exaggerated the entire concept of teenage romance. Maybe he just hasn’t found the right girl yet. Maybe it’s worth holding himself out for the girl that would change his experience with romance.

Then again, he is just young. He doesn’t have a good enough understanding of the whole idea to make that kind of judgement. The easiest thing for him to do is to focus on school and live his teenage years right, so he won’t regret it.

Other than the fact that he saw his friends and his favourite biology teacher everyday, school was a nightmare. Jisung shouldn’t complain about it though; school was awful for everyone his age. It was only one more year before he could leave the last four of them behind. Not only did Jisung have to deal with the pressures of school from his teachers and peers during the day, but he had to come home every night to a family that had one goal and one goal for him only- to get into one of the world’s top 100 universities.

He knows that he shouldn’t complain about his parents; he knows that they only want the best for him, but he still can’t shake the stress of it all. Sometimes it seems like his academics are all they care about.

Nevertheless, Jisung deals with it. The same way he deals with everything in his life.

-------

“Jisung, did you hear about the basketball teams party?”

Of course he had. Everybody had. And just like always, Jisung has no interest in going.

“Felix, why do you always care so much about those stupid parties?” Jisung answered.

Lee Felix was one of Jisung’s two best friends. They had known each other since primary school, when Jisung accidentally tripped Felix during a game of capture the flag. The two had been inseparable all throughout their school years.

Felix had a dumbfounded look on his face as he processed what Jisung said.

“Why do I care? Because I should!” he whined, “Jisung, we’re seniors and we have been to what, like two parties?” Jisung could tell Felix wanted to go.

“Actually no,” Kim Seungmin said, dropping his bag down beside the table where the other two were eating lunch and sitting down, “Felix has been to like two parties, and Jisung hasn’t been to any.”

Felix gave a sort of I told you so gesture to Jisung, which the latter waved off. “It’s so overrated,” Jisung explained, “a bunch of drunk, horny teenagers... rubbing together or something.. I don’t know, it just sounds gross.”

“Give Felix a drink, and you’ll have yourself a drunk, horny teenager,” Seungmin commented, and Felix punched him in the arm.

“Jisung, think about it?” Felix begged, and Jisung sighed.

“I’m sorry dude, did you even get invited?”

The only thing worse than going to a high school party was going to a high school party that they weren’t invited to.

Felix scoffed at him, “it’s open invite, it’s always open invite. You know that.”

The bell rang throughout the cafeteria, and all around them kids began packing up to get to their next class.

“I’ll think about it.” Jisung reluctantly said. There was no way he was going to go.

----

“Attention teachers. At this time, please dismiss all students on the varsity boys basketball team for their away game today against Eastmile High. Students, wish our boys luck!”

The announcements blared throughout the school, just in case anybody didn’t already know about what kings the boys on the basketball team were. They always had a near full turnout at all of their games, they had girls lining up out the door for their numbers, and of course, they had the street credit of those amazing parties they always throw.

Jisungs eyes flicked towards a boy rise from his seat on the other side of the room. Of course it was Hwang Hyunjin.

“Yeah, just go. Good luck Mr. Hwang,” Jisung’s math teacher said, and Hyunjin mumbled a quick thanks, packed up his books, and headed for the door for another inevitable win.

Hyunjin and Jisung used to be very close in primary school, mainly due to the fact that they lived about four houses down from each other. When they got old enough for their parents to trust them, they used to walk to school together.

Things change, that’s just the way it was. During their first year of high school, Jisung was immediately tagged as the “quiet kid”, whereas Hyunjin made it on the basketball team and the soccer team, making him a double threat jock. Jisung was fine with that for a while, they still hung out on weekends every so often, and they’d be invited to each other’s birthday celebrations. Eventually, Hyunjin began to drift apart from Jisung more and more. Soon, he stopped saying hi to him in the halls. By the time senior year came around, Hyunjin and Jisung were strangers.

But that’s fine. Everybody loses their primary school friends when they go to high school, it’s just how it is.

Jisung continued on his practice problems, even though there was only five minutes left until the bell rang and he could leave. Jisung never felt he was that good in math, but he has no choice but improve if he wants to make it into a good school.

The bell rang shortly after that, and Jisung packed up his books, hastily shoving them in his bag.

“Do you have any plans for the weekend, Mr. Han?” Jisung’s teacher asked, and this was one of those times that Jisung mentally cursed that the seating plan has him in front of the teacher’s desk.

“Uh, no actually, not really.” He answered dryly, hoping that his teacher would just leave it at that. Ah, but he was a dreamer.

“What?” his teacher asked, “but you’re a high school senior and it’s Friday night!”

Jisung scoffed a little bit in his head. So? he wanted to ask.

“Yeah I don’t know yet, maybe I’ll do something with my friends,” Jisung wished this guy would see how he doesn’t want to talk anymore, and thankfully, the man was distracted by a small girl from the back row.

“Sir, can I ask a question about the homework?” she asked, and Jisung took this opportunity to leave with the wave of other students filing out of the classrooms into the overly crowded halls.

Jisung made his way over to Felix’s locker, which is conveniently near Seungmin’s locker. It was the next hall over from his math class, and when he turned the corner, he saw that the two of them were already there, talking and packing their bags.

“What’s going on?” Jisung asked, leaning up against the locker beside Felix’s. Felix bent down to zip up his back pack,

“We’re talking about the party tonight,” Seungmin answered nonchalantly. Of course they were.

“My mom’s gonna drive us since I can’t drive and Seungmin’s keys are confiscated,” Felix added. Jisung knew there was more. “That is, unless a friendly little introvert would mind helping us out, and experiencing this great thing I’m always hearing about, what is it called again Seungmin?”

“I believe you’re looking for the word fun, Felix.”

Felix snapped his fingers, “That’s it! Fun!” Felix smiled sickeningly at Jisung. There it was.

Jisung groaned, but finally agreed to give the boys a ride to the party. Jisung got his licence over the summer, and he saved up all of his tips from his job at the bakery, plus his birthday and Christmas money to afford a car. Of course, not only his parents are abusing the fact that they have a son who can drive, but Jisung’s friends are also begging and bribing him all the time for rides places.

“This is going to be so much fun, you won’t regret it!” Felix shouted.

The three of them walked over to Jisung’s locker so that he could get packed up, and then made their way outside to Jisung’s car, where Jisung would drive them home from school. Jisung’s car was not the prettiest or the most functional, but it was good enough to get from point A to point B.

When Jisung dropped Felix off at his place, Felix reminded him to be ready and to pick them up at 8:00 so that they can make it to the party at 8:30. Jisung nodded him off and drove himself back home.

----

Jisung’s mom wasn’t happy about him going to a party that night. She was concerned because he had a biology test on the following Tuesday. Even though that was the class Jisung was most confident with, she still wanted him to spend as long as he can studying. She finally agreed to let him go when he told her that he would go to see his teacher at lunch and after school on Monday for extra study time.

Jisung knew he was done for when Chaeryeong found out he was actually going to a real high school senior party.

Chaeryeong was Jisung’s little sister, who was a good three years younger than him. She was a freshman at his school, and never ceased to butt into his life, even though socially, her’s was much better.

“Please take me with you,” she begged him after she found out about his plans during dinner, “I just want to know what it’s like,”

Chaeryeong, just like a good number of freshmen, still had a large group of friends from her primary school, as well as many new people that she had just met this year. Even though she was only about one month into her high school career, she already had the numbers of more people than Jisung got in his four years of going to that school.

Jisung would be one to call Chaeryeong popular.

“I told you before, you aren’t old enough to go to parties like these, mom is barely letting me go,” Jisung argued. Chaeryeong obviously only wanted to go to this party so that she could brag to her friends that she went to a senior party hosted by the varsity basketball team. The last thing Jisung wanted for his sister is for her to be exposed to all those perverted teenage boys.

“I am so old enough, and besides you owe me one!” Jisung rolled his eyes as he walked up the stairs to his bedroom.

“I don’t owe you shit, now please leave me alone.”

“But Hyunjin will be there!” she whined as she followed him up the stairs. Jisung felt his stomach drop when he remembered about the fact that Hyunjin would be there. Maybe he won’t show? No, this is a basketball team party, of course he’ll be there. Jisung might just have to try and avoid that awkward encounter with his old friend.

Jisung knew about Chaeryeong’s big fat crush on Hyunjin, and it sickened him. Sure, Jisung knew that Hyunjin was attractive for girls like Chaeryeong, but that didn’t give her the right to drool over his childhood best friend.

Jisung stopped outside his door and looked Chaeryeong in her eyes. “Please stay away from him, he won’t even be interested in you anyways,” she pouted at Jisung.

“You don’t know that,” She mumbled, avoiding his gaze. Jisung sighed. As annoying as she could be sometimes, he had to admit that he hated to see her upset. She began picking at her freshly painted nails.

“Chae, I can’t take you with me, okay?” she sighed at him and nodded her head. “Maybe another time.”

Jisung turned away from his sulky little sister into his bedroom, and locked the door behind him. His room was messy, but not too messy that he couldn’t focus in it. It would be better to call it disorganized.

Jisung dressed himself in just some black jeans and a hoodie. There was no need to go all fancy for this party, especially when he could already tell he wouldn’t be there long.

----

8:00 came faster than he thought it would.

Jisung had a weird feeling in his stomach while he grabbed his car keys and yelled goodbye to his mom. He didn’t know if it was nerves, or excitement, or anxiety. Maybe it was all three. He hoped to God that this party would go over well because if he did something embarrassing, it would further marginalize him from the rest of his classmates. He also hoped that this party wouldn’t get as crazy as he sees in movies.

Felix and Seungmin were more than ecstatic to be going to another basketball team party. They spent the whole car ride filling Jisung in on what great things happened at the other parties the other two went to, as well as speculating what might happen tonight. Jisung was amazed at how excited the other boys seemed because for him, all of these recounts seemed like horror stories. Jisung felt that weird feeling in his chest again when Felix told him they were close to Bang Chan’s house, where the party was.

“Who knows,” Felix started, “maybe we’ll even meet some girls tonight.”

Jisung supposed that was true. Maybe making out with a cute girl would make this night a little less awful.

“Felix, remember last time when those three girls took their tops off?” Seungmin said, excitedly hitting Felix in the arm. Felix giggled as he remembered the incident. Maybe this party would be okay if something like that were to happen again.

“You guys are such pervs,” Jisung chuckled, expecting nothing less than that from his friends. Jisung was happy that he had such light-hearted friends though, it made for funny conversations.

“Shit, we’re here” Seungmin commented, and Jisung’s eyes laid on the house at the end of the street. Cars were lined up down the road, people were dancing on the grass, and music was blaring from the house loud enough that Jisung could feel a slight vibration all the way over in his car. Great.

“Holy fuck, it looks awesome!” Felix was practically buzzing from the passenger seat, itching to get out and pour himself a cup of whatever the hell was in there. Jisung managed to find a spot that wasn’t already taken, and parked his car.

The three boys left their car, and made their way over the grass on the front lawn. The house was crowded with people, and the music was already starting the give Jisung a headache. At least he was smart enough not to drag Chaeryeong into this mess.

The three of them grabbed beers from one of the coolers in the living room, and made their way around the house.

“Oh my god, this is so cool!” Felix yelled, just loud enough that Jisung could hear it over the music. “Do you like it?” He asked Jisung.

“Uh,” Jisung started. He wanted to say no, that he wanted to go home, that he didn’t want to risk seeing his old primary school friends, but he also didn’t want to spoil the mood for Felix, who obviously loved these things so much. “Yeah, it’s much better than I thought it would be!” he yelled back, and Felix gave him a satisfied grin.

All around them, people were dancing, drinking, groping, and sucking each others faces. There was also one girl crying, but Jisung couldn’t tell if they were happy tears or sad tears. Seungmin had noticed a pretty girl staring at him, so he ended up ditching Felix and Jisung. That was fine; Jisung still had Felix.

Felix and Jisung were both probably a bit too many beers in, and slowly, Jisung found himself to be enjoying the foreign experience more and more. He had drank alcohol before, but he had never been fully drunk. He didn’t even know if he was drunk now. All he knew was that he loved parties. He loved all of the music they played, he loved spending time with Felix, he loved watching drunk people do stupid things.

Jisung left to go to the bathroom, which he has to do very often when he drinks, and found the stairs where Jisung and Felix were sitting to be empty. Felix ditched him.

Sober Jisung would have been pissed, but drunk Jisung noticed a girl looking at him, which made him happier.

She was cute, with long dark hair and a pretty face. Her eyes were all sparkly, Jisung noticed. She was standing with two other girls, but her attention was on Jisung. Boldly, Jisung began to approach her. The girl got the message, and walked towards him, too.

“Hi,” Jisung started. The girl giggled at him.

“Hi,” she said back, “I’m Nayeon”

Jisung told her his name. The girl, Nayeon, took his hand and led him to a hallway. Jisung thought she was enchanting. Her smile was beautiful, her hands were delicate, her skin was smooth and pale. All at once, she pressed her lips against his.

Jisung panicked a little bit. Things were moving very fast for him at that time, and he didn’t know what he should do. What should he do with his hands? Was she expecting him to do something? His mind was racing.

He thought that he would feel that spark that he was waiting for, but it never happened. Jisung was nervous and anxious while kissing Nayeon. She seemed confident enough, and Jisung knew that Felix would kill to be in his position, but it just made him uncomfortable.

Nayeon wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled him closer, licking at his bottom lip. He gasped a little bit, which she used to dip her tongue in his mouth. That was the line for Jisung.

Jisung pushed Nayeon off of him, which startled her.

“Stop,” he gasped. He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, and struggled to catch his breath. He felt his face heat up. His head was spinning.

When he looked up, Nayeon looked absolutely terrified.

“I’m so sorry,” she quickly said, “I-I just assumed, I though you wanted-”

“I thought I did too,” he assured. He was so confused. “’Scuse me, I have to find my friends,” he slurred, and took off down the hallway.

The music was making his head foggy and he felt dazed. He was dizzy, and he felt extremely nauseous. He knew what was about to happen, so he quickly raced himself through the crowds of people that smell like sweat and cheap liquor. As soon as he reached the bathroom, he threw up.

Jisung felt gross and sick, and he kept throwing up in Bang Chan’s bathroom. Once he finished throwing up all of his internal organs, he just sat there. He sat on the bathroom floor, and waited for the world to stop spinning.

Maybe he shouldn’t have sat there for so long because all of the sudden, Jisung heard the door open. He turned his head around to see Lee Minho standing in the door frame. Perfect.

Lee Minho was the captain of the varsity basketball team. If all cool and popular teenagers had a leader, it would be Lee Minho. He was handsome as all hell, which Jisung noticed upon his arrival. Jisung always overhears girls talking about him in the hallways. They talk about everything from how good of a kisser they think he is, to what their names would be if they were married, to how good they think his thighs looked in the school uniform.

Lee Minho wasn’t particularly that smart, but it was okay because he was charming and pretty. Jisung has heard all the rumors about the girls he pulls, and Jisung believes every single one of them.

Jisung snapped back into reality when he realized the predicament he was in. Jisung was sitting on the bathroom floor with a face as pale as the moon, and eyes as sunken in as a skeletons. Jisung couldn’t make himself stand up, so he just sat there, eyes on the boy in front of him.

Minho looked startled when he walked in, but his face transformed into one of concern.

“Are you okay?” he asked, crouching down so he could be face to face with the sickly boy. “You look like shit,” he added on. Jisung chuckled a little bit at that.

Jisung stared at the lines of worry across Minho’s face. He still felt so nauseous.

“You’re Jisung, right?” Minho asked. Jisung slowly nodded his head. How did Minho even know who he was? “I know that because of Hyunjin. You look very out of it,” Jisung smiled at Minho. “I’ll be right back”.

Minho stood up to leave, and much to Jisung’s embarrassment, he heard himself whine a little bit. Minho left the bathroom, and Jisung closed his eyes.

Jisung heard the door open again, and he saw Minho with a bottle of water in his hands.

“Drink this, it will make your head less dizzy,” he advised, and Jisung drank from the bottle. “Have you been drinking water tonight?”

Almost instantly after he took a sip, he felt his head begin to clear up. “I’ve been drinking...” Jisung started, wincing at how his voice sounds, “...but it hasn’t been water,” he finished. Minho chuckled at him.

“Jisung, don’t you know that when you drink, you need to have water with it? or else you’ll end up-” Minho paused and examined Jisung’s face, “-like this”.

Jisung smiled and took another sip. He shrugged at the statement.

“First time,” he mumbled. Minho tsked at him.

The older boy stood up and grabbed a washcloth from Chan’s sink drawer. He wet it with cold water, and sat back down by Jisung, who was focused on quickly finishing the water.

“Is it okay if I touch your face?” Minho asked, and Jisung smiled sweetly, nodding his head. Minho gently placed his hand on Jisungs chin and dabbed at his forehead with the washcloth. “You need to be careful when you drink,” Minho said, “did you drive here?” Jisung nodded. “Well you won’t be driving home,”

Jisung closed his eyes as the other boy made his way down his face with the washcloth, dabbing lightly over his eyes, across his cheeks, and even gently on his neck.

“You’re good at this,” Jisung mumbled, and Minho grinned at him.

“I have experience,” he answered.

That was one of the last things Jisung remembered about that night.

----

Jisung woke up with a searing headache. It felt like he was weighed down to the bed, and his brain was being split open. Then, it occurred to Jisung that he didn’t know exactly where he was or what happened at the end of last night.

Slowly, he pried his eyes open just enough to see the similar pattern of his bedspread. He was in his bed, safe and sound.

After a few minutes of questioning his life’s choices, he had decided that he was going to kill Lee Felix and Kim Seungmin for convincing him to go to that party. Cautiously, Jisung sat up in his bed, and saw from the clock on his wall that it was about noon. He groaned and made his way downstairs to get some water.

Once he drank a sufficient amount, he sat down at the kitchen table. His head was pounding, and he felt like he was going to explode. He sat there, trying to regain his strength, sanity, and memory.

How did he get home?

Maybe Seungmin drove him home with his car. He does have his licence after all.

“Han Jisung!” a shrill voice screamed, and Jisung stood up, giving himself a worse headache.

“Ahh! What is it Chaeryeong?” he groaned. His sister giggled and sat down on the table swinging her legs.

“How was your party?” she asked sweetly, as if she didn’t just rip his brain out of his head.

“It was fine,” Jisung answered, sitting back down in his seat. He knew that she wanted to say something. After a moment, he looked up and met her eyes. “What?” he asked.

“Mom’s pretty pissed off that you came home blackout drunk at 3:00 in the morning,” she answered. Jisung was caught off guard.

“Chae, how exactly did I get home? I didn’t drive, did I?” he asked, and she shook her head. Immediately, he felt a weight lift off his shoulders.

Chaeryeong punched him in the arm, “but thanks for the heads up, asshole,”

Jisung groaned and rubbed his arm, which stung like a bitch. “What the hell? What heads up?”

“The heads up about Hyunjin dropping you off! I answered the door for him in my pajamas! He looked absolutely beautiful, and I was in my pajamas!” she whined, and Jisung felt his stomach drop again.

“Hyunjin drove me home?” he asked.

“Jesus, how much did you have to drink anyway? Yeah, he dropped you off.” Chaeryeong stood back up. “I think you should go back over there and thank him, and you should take me with you,” she winked at Jisung. Jisung moaned and stood up.

Just then, he felt his phone vibrate in his pants, which he never ended up taking off from last night. It was a text from an unknown number.

Unknown: Hey, it’s Minho, I hope you don’t mind me getting your number from Hyunjin lol

Unknown: I just wanted to make sure you were doing well after last night

Unknown: Text me when you get this!

Why did Jisung’s heart get warm when he saw that?

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huangsilks · 4 years

Text

let your walls down for me (z.cl)

summary: worries about university, SATs, and moving away weighed heavily like a burden on your shoulders. one thing you knew for sure, though, was that your friendship with him wouldn’t falter, and you found solace in that.

pairing: bestfriend!chenle x reader

genre: hurt/comfort, fluff

a/n: hhHHH this is my first actual fic and i’m not v satisfied djsjdjjfjd but i enjoyed writing it and that’s the thing that matters!! if anyone is reading this rn and wants to be friends: hi! i’m cam! i wanna make more friends 🥺 👉🏻👈🏻

“you look like actual shit.” bestfriend!chenle snickers at you, a cheeky grin adorning his features as he pays close attention to the messy side bangs that fell into your face and uniform tie that was thrown on lopsidedly. you roll your eyes as he meets you on the sidewalk in front of your house, the same sidewalk you two had met each morning since second grade. chenle reaches out his hand and brushes your fallen locks behind your ears, chuckling at your irritated expression as you swat his hand away.

“well maybe if someone didn’t keep me up all night playing pubg, i would’ve woken up to my alarm.” you playfully side-eye him, knowing full well that your disheveled state was upon his insistence. flashbacks rang in your head from the night prior, a full seven hours of your life spent gaming that you’d never get back. considering you two would be uni students in just the next year, your sleep schedule was horrendous.

“we need to get more sleep than we do. you know that sleep deprivation is bad for adolescent brain development?” you nag.

“okay, okay. mom.” chenle disregards your light scolding, draping his arm over your shoulders nonchalantly. chenle was naturally a touchy person, even when you guys were little, so you were used to everything at this point— the hand-holding, the back-hugging, the general invasion of space when it came to him. admittedly, you weren’t the biggest fan of skinship, but zhong chenle was always an exception. he did it so often that people thought you two dated (not that you minded).

“your brain is so underdeveloped because you never sleep.” you tease, and he immediately feigns an overdramatic look of hurt, pushing you away from him. you beamed at his comical response. his orange locks radiated in the early morning light, and the up-turned corners of his lips stretch into a shit-eating grin.

“say that to me the next time you ask for calculus help, dipshit.” he mocks, and you stand on your tip-toes to ruffle up his hair, messing up the tangerine coloured locks (although he managed to still look good).

chenle sticks his tongue out at you, putting his arm back on your shoulder the way it was before. you were all smiles at his affectionate nature. a comfortable ambience fell over the two of you, as you basked in the undisturbed sunrise and yielded to the peaceful routine of walking to school.

“so have you asked bora to be your prom date, yet?” you inquired your best friend. jang bora was a good friend of yours both since elementary.

“it’s only the first day of senior year, it’s too early to ask her. what about you? find anyone you’d wanna go with?”

“no, not really. maybe i’ll just go alone.” you complained, scratching the back of your head. it wasn’t that you didn’t want to go, but nobody in particular really caught your eye.

“c’mon, don’t be like that. i know so many guys who would love to be your date, y/n.” chenle leaned in a little closer to whisper in your ears, “and i heard a rumour that park jisung wants to ask you.” he teases you with his gummy grin, a sparkle in his eye meant only for you.

“i don’t think so, chenle.” you shake off his mischievous laughter, holding back a smile of your own. “i think he’s more interested in you than me.” you add subconsciously.

“hey, if it makes you feel any better, you can be my date if bora rejects me. deal?”

“wow, chenle, i just love being your second choice.” you sardonically joke.

it was early autumn, and the typically mediocre scenery of your neighborhood seemed almost picturesque today. the muted orange hues of the fallen leaves perfectly complimented chenle’s bright ginger hair, a byproduct of some mindless bet he lost during summer. you swore that orange hair would look revolting on anyone; but he was zhong chenle, and zhong chenle looked good in everything. you still recalled the self-satisfied cackles chenle made at your widened eyes, because what the hell, chenle? how do you look that good with orange hair?

morning walks with chenle were always a safe haven for you two. all pressures to be considered ‘popular’ or ‘cool’ were reserved for the rest of the day, with other schoolmates and friends, but never with eachother. you liked starting your days off with him, opting to simply enjoy eachother’s presence rather than bombarding eachother with too much talk and mental stimulation at such an early hour. it was in these moments that you two could be at peace with yourselves.

you sigh in contentment at the foreign breeze, recognizing the first sign of autumn. to you, the messy escapades of summer— driving around in chenle’s car during the ungodliest of hours, blasting 80s rock music with the windows down so that the wind would seep into your hair— these events seemed so distant and long-gone. an image of two teenagers huddled haphazardly under a thick blanket, a twitch streamer on the laptop being the only source of light, chewing on shitty leftover pizza as you two struggled to stay awake—these were memories of a hazy dream you’d try so hard to remember. recollections of sandy flip-flops, overly competitive volleyball games, and cloud-watching at the beach, with chenle’s orange head in your lap as he dreamt lazily, airpods in his ears and sunscreen on his nose. these all were snapshots frozen in time. a time that felt lightyears away from the present, a time you’d try so hard to hold onto.

because now, it was the first day of senior year, and everything would be changing. the hustle and bustle of ap classes, sports games, student council, part-time jobs, and the pretense of a social life always kept both you and chenle on your feet. nothing would ever be the same in a few months, as the never-ending questions about university would loom over everyone, the topics of scholarships and SATs and moving away constantly being thrown around. it was all so overwhelming, so burdensome. one thing you knew for sure, though, was that your friendship with chenle wouldn’t falter, and you found solace in that alone.

you were zhong chenle’s best friend since second grade — he was intelligent, charismatic, well-rounded, and widely popular towards the entirety of the school. he assumed the role of student council treasurer, the soccer team’s infamous right midfielder, and subject to much talk amongst the females in your highschool. but with you, he was just zhong chenle, the sweet boy who moved in two doors down from you when you were 9. there was no facade your eyes couldn’t see past.

“hey, y/n?” chenle begins, and you glance up at him next to you, peering through your eyelashes. “can i ask you, like, a serious question?” you nod at your best friend, caught off gaurd by the sudden question.

“does the future ever scare you?” he ponders nervously. you pause in your steps, thinking of the right words to say. chenle looks at his feet, avoiding your eye contact.

“well, whether we like it or not, the future is going to happen, right? and i don’t think there’s any point in fearing the inevitable. the best we can do is try adjust to the changes and enjoy the ride.” you admit, honestly. and if you were anyone else, chenle might’ve laughed at the cheesy answer, might’ve made a joke about how you made everything too serious and tried to lighten the situation. but it was you, and he could trust you with anything.

“but y/n. everything is going to change in a few months. there’s final exams, graduation, and prom. but after that, it’s all just a jumble of ambiguous what-ifs. nothing is assured anymore. i never told you this, but i might have to move away for my soccer scholarship. i’ve never lived away from home and i don’t... i don’t think i can handle it. it’s too much all at once.”

his sudden rant of emotion was laced with anxiety and stress. you instinctively take his larger hand into yours, feeling how shaky and clammy they had become. you knew it took a lot out of him to finally admit those words to you.

“i know how you feel, chenle. but you’re strong. you’ve handled everything life has thrown at you, every single time. you can handle this, too.”

“but— but what if i never come back? the thought of losing everything and everyone scares me, so much.... i can’t imagine my life without you in it.”

his anxious words drifted into the autumn wind, ringing through your mind like a mantra. zhong chenle constantly tried so hard to be perceived as perfect and flawless to the whole world, that sometimes it was shocking when he let his walls come down to you. you don’t respond at first, not sure what to say to his vulnerable confession; so you don’t respond immediately, and instead, you took his face into your hands and stared him in the eyes, feeling the warmth and softness of his skin. you hold out your arms and wrap them around his taller frame, saying nothing for a few moments. you two were silent during this intimate time. when you pulled back, his surprised eyes were filled with tears.

“i know you, zhong chenle. you will get through this. and plus, i’ll never leave your side. it’s always going to be you and me, ok? wherever you go.” you assure him, beaming optimistically. and you meant every word.

he blinked away the tears and laughed, “thank you, y/n, for being my best friend. thank you for staying with me all these years... i love you.” his words left you taken aback. in all your years of friendship, chenle never told you he loved you. you wiped his tears away with your sleeve and laughed at his sad expression.

“awww, i love you too, you dummy. you know that right? now stop crying, you look like a baby.”

chenle snakes his arms around your waist and pinches your sides, sending a tickle jolting up your body. you slap his forearm as he chortles jubilantly in response.

“ow! nevermind, i take it back. i totally hate you.” you mock.

(you love him. very, very much).

he holds your hand all the way to school, and you know that wherever life brought you two in the following months, despite the anxious discussions on university and scholarships and moving away, zhong chenle would always be yours.

#nct drabbles #nct writing #nct writers #nct dream fanfiction #nct dream fluff #nct dream chenle #zhong chenle #nct chenle #nct chenle fluff #nct fluff #nct fanfiction #nct chenle fanfiction #nct dream imagines #nct dream blurbs #nct blurbs #nct drram drabbles #nct imagines

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afriendlyphobia · 5 years

Text

“Got My Ion You”

pairing: Spider-man/peter parker x reader

genre: flufff

warnings: none :)

Request?

word count: 2.6k

A/n: tbh i got this idea while i was cleaning my room. so idk if it even makes sense and i haaaate itttt also this is the longest one shot fic i’ve ever written lord help me

—————————————————————————————————-

You looked up from your homework, chewing on the end of your pencil lightly. It was a habit that you had never been able to let go, but you claimed it helped you “think better”. You eyes narrowed in on your best friend who was currently lounging next to you on his phone.

“Hey Pete.” The brunette looked over at you, eyes wide with a puzzled expression.

“Exactly how does being on your phone help you with studying for finals?” You questioned him jokingly. After all, he was the one who had begged you to come over and study claiming that he couldn’t focus alone.

“I already know all the material.” He shrugged, going back to scroll through his feed.

Your eyebrows bumped together and confusion. “Then why did you beg and plead to come study with me?”

“Is there a problem with me wanting to hang out with my best friend since second grade?” He questioned you innocently, rolling onto his stomach. He placed his head on his palms and blinked at you with puppy eyes.

Okay, you had to admit he had a point. The two of you were practically inseparable. From spending almost everyday together or on video call to constantly texting, you almost considered him your brother.

Almost.

See, you happened to have a rather huge crush on none other than Peter Parker. You’d started having feelings for him nearly two years ago, and assumed that the butterflies would die in a few month. But you were wrong...so wrong.

The butterflies had seemed to multiply and now you were in love with the curly haired, starry-eyed, beautiful boy whom you called your friend...and nothing more.

But there was nothing you could do to fix your problem. You risked a lot by telling him about your feelings. Peter wasn’t the type to stop being friends with you just because you liked him, but you didn’t want to ruin things and make it awkward.

It was cliche, you knew that. But this was real life. Things don’t work like those movies and books do...right?

What you didn’t know is that Peter wasn’t much better off that you. He had liked you since, well, you first met him. He had just never said anything due to the same reasons you had.

That and recently Peter had started having a growing attraction to someone he could never tell you about in a million years.

You shook your head, coming back to reality, and rolled your eyes at him. “What are you doing anyway?”

He showed the screen of his phone to you before moving it back. “Reading science pick up lines.” He said, as if the pastime was completely normal.

“Oooooh~ Peterrr wanna tell me about her?” You cooed, mimicking a basic highschool girl while moving closer to him.

“Nahhh.” He rolled over onto his side so his back was facing you. “Don’t think I will.”

You’d be a liar if you didn’t admit that you’re heart dropped for a second. But how could you not expect him to have a crush on someone else. Honestly you were surprised he didn’t even have anyone in the first place considering how beautiful and perfect he was.

You didn’t reply, only going back to study your notes. Your answer being in the form of the sound of you writing.

“Do you wanna hear one?” His soft voice asked after a few seconds of silence.

You signed and slowly nodded without looking up, but you could just tell he was beaming at the moment.

“Ok ok... So. My love for you is like the universe.” You raised an eyebrow at him. “Never ending!”

His face almost made you laugh, but just for the spite of it, you kept a straight face and slowly shook your head in fake disapproval.

“Not feelin it?”

“Try another one, Champ.” You rolled your eyes, a tiny smile pulling at your lips.

“Fine.” He sighed, scrolling through his phone for another second before glancing at you. “Do you like science? Cuz i’ve got my ion you.”

The joke was bad enough, but Peter, being the little shit he is, added a wink into the mix. To avoid blushing madly from the tiny gesture, you picked up a pillow and threw it at him as hard as possible.

“What the—Ouch!” He flailed off the bed, exaggerating his pain and rolled around on the floor. “Oh i’m wounded!” He groaned before picking the same weapon up and chucking it back at you.

You ducked, missing his attack completely. You smiled widely at him, holding up two middle fingers innocently.

“You’re the worst.” You rolled your eyes, a tiny giggle still detectable in your voice. “You and your pick-up lines.”

“Hey, I’m just warming up.” Peter sat up, pushing the messy curls from his eyes. “You must be a 90 degree angle because to me, you look just right.”

“PETER!” You yelled, once again chucking the pillow back at him. This time however, you were giggling at his stupid self. It wasn’t long before he too joined you as a laughing mess. All which was music to your ears.

~•~

The next day was an absolute roller coaster for you. It started out like any normal day, but after getting an Avengers alert in the middle of AP Chem, things got a little crazy.

That would be your third unexcused absence that week. If you kept your side job up, your mother would start to wonder what you were doing instead.

Of course it wasn’t your fault, it was either get perfect attendance or save the world. You chose the latter.

Stumbling out of school, you ran into a abandoned alley way and began hurriedly stripping out of your school clothes, revealing the slightly armored spandex suit that was hidden beneath. You shuffled through your bag, pulling out the black, red, and silver mask.

You stuffed your school back in its normal hiding spot before running down the alley, failing to notice the webbed (in plain sight) backpack also there.

“Hey. F.R.I.D.A.Y.?” You tapped your temple.

“Yes, Ms. L/N?” The automated voice responded.

“Pick me up.”

“Already on it, look behind you.” You glanced over your shoulder, smiling under your mask as your similarly colored motorcycle approached from behind.

Doing a backflip at exactly the right moment, you landed perfectly on the seat of your ride. Gripping the handles, your sped up, moving faster towards the indicated spot on your mask’s digital map.

“Incoming call from: Spider-Man.” You raised your eyebrows at the notification but told F.R.I.D.A.Y. to answer it.

“Hey Webhead!” You greeted your partner. Without the original Avengers around to protect Manhattan, the two of you had become the next generation. The dynamic duo. Partners in fighting crime. “How’s downtown looking?”

You heard incoherent sarcastic mumbling before getting a reply. “Looks like a giant mechanic thingy.”

“Thingy? Very professional.”

“—Shut up. You’re late anyway.”

You swerved hard around a truck, leaning in order to make it in time before oncoming traffic reached you. “Sorry we live in Manhattan. Traffic isn’t always ideal.” You rolled your eyes at your partner.

“Wanna take the high route?” You could hear the ‘thwip’ sound of his webshooters, knowing that he was already in his way.

You didn’t reply, just ended the call and gave F.R.I.D.A.Y a quick command. “Hey take over for me, will you?”

“Of course.”

You let go of the handle bars, raising one arm, knowing your spider-friend wasn’t far away.

A gloved hands clasped your semi-covered one and pulled you into the air.

“Yoink!” You looked up at the hero, knowing that he was grinning behind his mask.

“Really? Every time?” Your mask’s eyes narrowed at him in faux disapproval.

He shrugged, using the momentum of swinging to pull you up against his body. You wrapped your arms around his neck, allowing him to let go of you and use both hands to swing through the city. You could feel his heart beat, and it was racing. You could only assume he was nervous about the fight; you were too.

The two of you were close, fighting crime together for almost a year now was one of the factors. However, you didn’t really know who he actually was.

It was a promise you both made when you signed up for the job. You weren’t gonna let your personal lives get mixed with your hero lives. It was sensible, but it didn’t keep you from wondering what he looked like under than mask. You’d be naive to assume he never thought the same.

Not long after, the two of you were standing on a rooftop, watching as the giant mechanical monster worked it’s way towards the heart of Manhattan.

You breathed out an exasperated breath as you watched it. “Hydra again?”

Spider-Man crossed his arms across his chest and shrugged. “I’m assuming so. Looks tougher than last time though.”

“Don’t be a whimp.” You shrugged, attempting to mask the worry in your own voice. “You ready to go, Spidey?”

He looked from you, to the machine, then back to you. “Ready as I’ll ever be.” He held out his hand, ready for your famous handshake.

You smiled, following his lead before jumping into action.

~i can’t write fight scenes help~

Nearly two hours later, you sat on the same rooftop from before as a bruised, sweaty, and bloody mess. You could feel the wounds healing due to your healing factor, but it hurt none the less.

Spider-man has dropped you off (per your command) and was dealing with the clean up and press. but you expected him to be back at any moment.

As if he had heard your thoughts, the masked web-slinger showed up. He landed on the rooftop, his body language showing how exhausted he really was.

He stumbled over to you, sliding down the same half wall you rested against.

“Back from the red carpet?” You quipped, trying to control your heaving breathing.

“Har. Har.” He mock laughed, placing a hand over the burned scar on his abdomen while wincing.

He glanced at you, one of his fiberglass eye-lenses was cracked, giving you the first look at his real eyes you had ever seen. But there was something else, the tiny part of his cheek you could seen was...pink? Was he blushing?

You shook your head. No, of course not. He was probably just worn out.

But his eyes didn’t leave your figure. They were searching you, even though most of your face was covered (except for the parts now exposed from cuts and burns).

But there was something familiar about those eyes. Something that you couldn’t put your together due to your hazy, tired mind.

Your partner seemed to be thinking something similar as you. But he gave up, resting his head back against the wall and sighed heavily.

“Hey.” He breathed, not looking at you. You didn’t verbal reply, just looking at you with tired eyes. “Do you like science?”

You raised you eyebrow, mouth moving to open as you finally began to piece two and two together.

“Cuz I’ve got my ion you.” Laughing breathlessly at his joke, the hero attempted to lighten the mood. the effort caused him to wince several times during the process.

“Wha...what the?” You slowly sat up, eyes widening. “Peter..?”

The visible eye widened in shock. “Uh, uh.” He cleared his throat, lowering his voice. “What are you talkin—“ You pulled off you mask, eyes still wide with surprise. “Y/N?!!”

Spider-man reached up and pulled up off his own mask, his eyes nearly as wide as yours.

There sat your childhood best friend, bruised from battle, with his mouth hanging wide open.

“How can this be?” He asked, his voice going an octave higher as he stuttered. “My best friend is also my hero partner? That’s crazy, i mean, what are the chances of that? And to think I stopped liking you because i thought i had no chance and I started liking your alter ego—wait, shit.” He covered his mouth with his hands.

“Peter...?” Leaning towards him, your voice fell to just barely above a whisper. “You like...me?”

“Well I...” He glanced at you and pushed back his messy curls from his forehead. “Yes...I like you. I’ve liked you ever since we met.” He admitted sheepishly.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” You asked softly, already knowing the reason.

“Because...you just seemed so out of my league.” He glanced down at his hands, fidgeting nervously with the webshooters. “You’re amazing, sweet, kind, and absolutely beautiful. Plus we have such an amazing friendship I—“ He took a deep breath when you placed your own hand over his, slowly interlocking them.

He looked up at you, a sudden wave of boldness washing through his veins. “—I don’t wanna just be your friend.”

His free hand moved up to cup your cheek; his eyes glanced from your eyes to your lips. “I want to be more.” He breathed.

You didn’t reply, your actions speaking for you as you leaned closer to him.

“Can I..?” Peter asked, unsure suddenly as doubts began to flood his mind.

You could tell he was about to say something else, but before he could say anything, you gently pressed your lips against his.

And suddenly a beautiful feeling washed over you. Those butterflies you had been holding onto seemed to burst into freedom. Your lips moved in sync, like they were made to be together.

Peter’s hands found your hips naturally, holding onto you as if you were his lifeline. You hands wrapped around his neck, fingers twirling gently in his soft hair.

Pulling back for hair, your chests heaved, but you kept your forehead pressed against his.

“Hey Pete?” You asked softly.

He hummed in response, face still red and heart pounding.

“I think...I love you.” You whispered now only a few centimeters from his lips.

Peter’s heart skipped a beat when you said those words. Those magical words he never thought he would hear you say. He bit his lips, savoring the sound of you saying it play over and over in his mind.

“Can you..” He hesitated. “Can you say that again?”

Your eyebrows bumped together as you leaned back to get a better look at him. “I love you?”

Like a giddy middle school girl, he fell backwards, nearly giggling from all the emotions that were coursing through him.

“Oh my god, Y/N!” He laughed, covering his face with his hands before jumping up.

“I love you. I love you. I love you!” He laughed, forgetting all previous pain. You looked at him, smiling at how genuinely happy he was. He reached a hand out to you, pulling you up.

He twirled you around, causing you to giggle at his pure reaction to the event. Coming back in from the twirl, you wrapped your arms around his torso, hugging him tightly.

He laughed softly, resting his head in the crook of your neck, beaming like a little kid in a candy store.

“Are you less than 90 degrees?”

“Peter, don’t you dare—“

“Cause you’re acute girl!” He laughed, and you pushed away from him, punching his chest (lightly of course). He laughed, giving you the biggest grin possible. “You know you love me.” He smirked, winking at you.

You blushed, shaking your head as you crossed your arms. “Yeah..” You huffed. “Yeah I love you..”

You smiled at each other, getting lost in the magic of the night.

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