#i need to write my papers but k started this fic two days ago | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

getitinbusan · 3 years

Text

10 years with Jungkook

California

You met Jeon Jeongguk in the summer of 2012. Two kids brought together by a calling to California and a chance at making it big. Best friends from the start, what happens when only one of you becomes successful? Do you ever forget your first love?

Childhood friends to lovers, angst and smut.

Words: 4600

Warnings: 18 plus smut. Oral F, Sex MF, Swearing. Pretty Mild for me. This is a previously posted fic that has been updated and reworked.

It was a rare rainy August day in California. The heavy drops created a sad melody on the window as you put the dishes away. Tired and lonely, the feeling in your gut kept nagging at you, maybe it was time to give up.

The savings account was drained, there were no jobs to be found and this was the second month of falling short on rent. Surely it would only be a matter of time before your roommates would stop exchanging house cleaning for money.

Hanging the threadbare towel over its hook you stood in the kitchen, your mood mirroring the dim light of the afternoon. Feeling frusterated and stupid, it had taken you way longer than it should have to realize that in LA, you were nothing. Not pretty enough, rich enough, skinny enough or talented enough to ever make it big. So this is how the great Califonia chapter of your life would end, not by choice but necessity.

Gathering up the mail that was strewn across the countertop, you shuffled through it sorting its priority. Junk mail, bills, personal…one in particular standing out. Your heart began pounding as you took in the details.

The penmanship was nice, black ink on an unassuming envelope. But it was the stamp that caught your attention. It was sent from Korea.

Flipping it in your hand you examined the torn top. The letter, having been read, was cradled back safely inside. Addressed to your roommate a frown crept onto your face. Why wouldn’t he write to you?

It was a ridiculously hopeful notion but you widened the envelope and inhaled trying to find a trace of his fragrance, something, anything to trigger a happy memory. Cool California nights were the best excuse. How many times had you borrowed his sweaters just to have his smell on you?

You missed him. It had been a year and a half and you couldn't help but once again ponder the nagging question that always crept back. If you hadn't forced him to break the rules would he still be a part of your life?

It was too tempting to resist, your fingers pinched the paper inside of the envelope and pulled it free.

I’m feeling low, I don’t know who I am, only who I’m supposed to be.

What would life be like if I had stayed in California? We could all be roommates, hanging out and having fun, going to the beach on weekends.

Does she even think about me?

It sounds greedy that with how much I have right now, it’s not enough. I would give anything to wake up in bed beside her everyday. I want more than anything to be able to talk to her about these things but I can’t. I’ve made the mistake of trading her for fame and now I’m destined to keep her at an arm’s length so she’ll never know the price I paid.

How does she even see me? As an Idol? As the boy who abandoned her? Has she forgotten the good days we spent together?

I’ve been wrestling with myself, whoever that is. I wish I could be the teenage boy from that long ago summer again. I wrote this song thinking about it…

~When I see you smile in the screen

You’re good at everything

You’re just perfect

Feels like I've never been you

Do you even see me?

Do you know who I am?

Or how do I look now?

You don’t like me like that

I want to be your decalcomania~

I’m afraid I may not get back for a while, please write. Your friendship and thoughts of her are the only things that are keeping me tethered to some semblance of reality.

Clutching the letter to your chest, your mind took you back to that day.

"Decalcomania, the art or process of transferring pictures and designs. Making a copy of the original on a different medium"

Reading the description on the wall you’d both stood laughing at the piece's strange name, Decalcomania. The gallery visit felt like lifetimes ago but you still remembered clearly. You remembered, not because the piece had struck you as particularly special but because that's where you had decided that Jeongguk's laugh was the best sound you'd ever heard.

California had lured you into its promise when you turned 14. Having been accepted to an intensive dance program at The Movement Lifestyle Studio you packed up and headed West for the summer.

It was July and it was hot, the dancers stepping off the bus one at a time took their places in the studio.

Looking around there were so many older kids, you were probably one of the youngest. Calling out names they put you into groups, it appeared to be by age so you made your way across the unfamiliar wooden floor to the tiny gathering of teens in the darkened corner.

Shy introductions were made as one more member was ushered over to where you had congregated. “This is Jeongguk.”

He had the cutest smile and barely spoke english but his eyes twinkled like the constellations. Immediately drawn to each other you became fast friends.

Absolutely exhausted by the end of the first few days he quietly knocked at your door.

He was homesick and lonely, used to being surrounded by his six members, he couldn’t sleep well without someone beside him. You let him crawl into bed with you, you were 14 and it was innocent.

Inseparable, days and nights were spent side by side, the others began referring to you as the twins. It was the best summer of your life but like every boy meets girl summer story, it had to come to a close. Promising through tears to keep in touch and stay friends you went your separate ways.

Jeongguk would send silly videos of his practice sessions, goofing around with the other members. He’d facetime and text but he always loved to send handwritten letters.

They lived in a box under your bed and contained stories of how hard he was working to become an idol. He always signed off with, "I miss you,” and a few lines of lyrics he’d written.

You didn’t know then how important they would become, the only tangible piece of him you could still hold on to.

Whenever he came back to America you did everything you could to see him. You always found a way to get to the small tour stops whenever they came through. 2015 was the first, then KCon in 2016, but 2017, it was different.

Facetiming you with the news that they were bringing the Wings tour to NY, Chicago and Anaheim, he asked if you’d be part of the dance crew. How could you turn down two weeks with Jungkook the hottest new K-pop Idol? They were getting bigger, more popular and their lives were changing rapidly.

He had strict rules, girls were completely off limits. No talking, no hugging, no smiling at one another, any little thing could be easily misconstrued by the fans. Everything had to be done in secret. Jungkook would sneak you into his hotel room where you would spend your nights together catching up. The boys would bring you in food and cover for him while you both stayed locked away out of sight.

While happy to be with him, you could tell there was an underlying sadness he was holding on to.

"I wish I could go and explore the city with you like we used to," his voice trailed off.

You were laying in each other’s arms cuddling on his bed. Leaning over he kissed the top of your head.

"All I really want is to take you on a proper date."

You snuggled closer into his side as he exhaled deeply, releasing his secret.

"I’ve been waiting so long to become someone, a man worthy of your affection. Now I’m stuck. I have everything I wanted and I’m not allowed to share it with you."

His arms gripped you tighter.

"I’m sorry, this is a terrible confession. I don’t expect you to love me back, not under these circumstances, I just need you to know, you’re the only girl I’ve ever loved and there won’t be anybody else, ever."

Every bit of his confession, every moment of that last night in the hotel room had stuck with you to this day. The words of a 19 year old boy whose life had become bigger than the feelings of two people.

He'd left in the morning without knowing. You were a coward, too afraid to tell him you loved him too.

LA became your home right after they left Anaheim. Focused on your dancing, if you became good enough, maybe you could join the tour with him.

A letter with a big bouquet of flowers arrived a few weeks later.

"Congratulations on your new house in LA!

I hope that all of you are getting along as roommates, it’s hard living with others sometimes.

Last night I dreamt that I was there with you and all of our friends. We were having a party on the beach and we sat together watching the sunset.

Do you remember after practice when we would skateboard as fast as we could to the ocean so we wouldn’t miss the colors?

Maybe one day my toes can feel the sand there again.

I miss you, I miss me… the me I am when I get to be with you.

We're coming back in October for a few days and I’m hoping I can see you, I’m lonely already.

Jeongguk

~Won’t you please stay in dreams

I can hear the sea from far away

Across the dream, over the bush

Go there where it becomes clear

Take my hands now

You are the cause of my euphoria

When I’m with you, I’m in utopia~

By the time The AMAs came, the plan had been finalized. You would steal Jungkook away so that you could take him on your first real date.

Having enlisted Namjoon to help, he was your inside man. The boys, happy to help finally get you together, would cover for his whereabouts with management. The day before the awards they were only scheduled for styling, as long as he wasn’t late for the press rounds the next afternoon your plan could work.

It was Namjoon’s job to get him out of the building. Telling him to follow his lead, Joon convinced the managers that Jungkook must have eaten something bad for lunch. Claiming to not feel well, he was whisked away to meet you at the hotel’s back receiving door.

Sitting in the shiny red rented convertible you tossed him a pair of sunglasses. What you wouldn’t give now to see that smile again.

Barely giving him time to get in you’d sped away heading straight for In And Out Burger.

"Kookie, I hope you’re ready for the best day of your life! We’re going to eat until we explode, drink and party at the beach and then, instead of returning you to your fancy 5 star hotel you’re staying the night in my crappy little house with a tiny uncomfortable bed!!"

He laughed, that perfect laugh. It was so pure and honest, thinking about it now made you sad. Was that the last moment he'd gotten to be his true self? Jeongguk the man not Jungkook the personna?

Knowing you only had one day to give him everything, one day to show him you loved him, you tried to make the best of it.

Picking up the food Jungkook held onto the red and white bags in the passenger seat, sneaking his hand in to steal fries when he thought you weren’t looking. If you weren’t sure you were in love with him before you you certainly were now.

Pulling up beside the tree on the beach he was stunned, "Ahhh Jagi, I can’t believe you brought me here."

Happy that it meant as much to him as it did to you, you both sat on the branch and ate. Two blocks from the old studio this used to be your escape. Every break you’d make your way to the tree for some time alone, together.

With the burgers done he turned to you and smiled. It felt like he wanted to say something, but stupidly, you'd cut him short leading him back towards the car.

Making your way through your checklist you brought him back to where you'd first met. The Movement studios students were starstruck when he walked in. After insisting that he teach some choreography, he reluctantly led the class.

Your eyes were glued to him as he moved in front of the mirrors, no longer that awkward teenager but a full grown man mesmerizing you with his every move.

Getting back to the car he stopped you before you reached for the handle. Putting his arms around you he pulled you in close. But again, you resisted him.

"You stink Jungkook, our next stop is the ocean."

You remember pulling away. How stupid you were, you should have held on to him longer. Reaching into the back seat you revealed a pair of swim shorts and a towel. He looked disappointed that you kept interrupting his attempts at intimacy. It broke your heart but you had a plan and limited time to execute it.

The Ocean was chilly but the wind was warm, he came out of the change room with the shorts on but still wearing his shirt.

"Kookie, this isn’t Korea, you don’t have to be so modest here. Plus, you should grab some sun, you may not believe it but when your skin is sunkissed," you grinned, "you look really sexy."

He raised his eyebrows and quickly removed the shirt at your request.

Running into the water you splashed and played and he took great pleasure in picking you up and throwing you as far as he could.

The sun was getting ready to set and you wanted to dry off before the cooler air set in.

Leading him back to the shore you both laid down on the towel. He put his arm around you and you cuddled into his side.

"My god Guk, look at your abs!"

He blushed like crazy as you traced the muscles on his stomach.

"Stop, it tickles," he giggled.

But you didn’t, you kept tickling him until he held you so tight you couldn’t move. He had you pinned, flipping you on your back he shook his wet hair flinging water droplets all over you. Pleased with himself he leaned in closer to you, his eyes asking for permission to kiss you. As the gap between you got narrower you could hear his name being shouted and footsteps running closer. He flopped onto his back and sighed as your roommates and friends piled on top of him.

Eating, drinking and catching up with everyone you watched each other from across the bonfire. Moving from person to person he slowly made his way back to your side.

"Welcome back." Running your hand through the back of his hair, it was now or never.

Pulling him closer your lips finally met in the way they were destined, soft, slow and full of love. His hands instinctively moved to cup your face as the world stopped around you.

"I love you," you whispered.

Nose to nose he smiled at you and it was the most beautiful thing you’d ever seen.

It didn’t last long, his phone started going off incessantly. The managers knew, you’d been careless, photos and videos of him from the studio had been posted online.

"I’m so sorry Jungkook, I didn’t mean for you to get in trouble."

His eyes turned hungry as he grabbed your hand.

"You promised I wouldn’t be going back to my hotel tonight, let’s get out of here."

If he was going to get in trouble anyway, why stop now?

The drive back to your place was quiet, adrenaline and hormones flowing like electricity through you both. The time for smiling was over as the seriousness of the situation lingered in the air between you.

It wasn’t just being in trouble or being caught, but the fact that you both knew what was going to happen when you stepped into your bedroom. One act that would change everything between you, it held the power to change the dynamic of your relationship forever.

Leading him to your room you closed the door and stood staring at him as he sat on your bed. He raked his fingers through his hair before he spoke.

"I’ve never wanted anything more in my life than to be able to make love to you. BUT I also know that when I leave I’m not going to get to see you again for a very long time." His head hung low. "Management is going to do everything possible to keep us apart and that won’t be fair to you. I think that maybe we should just let our happy memories of today be enough, I don’t want you to regret anything. "

Walking closer you stood between his legs and he wrapped his arms around your waist.

"The only thing I'll regret is never getting to experience all of you. I can’t live not knowing how it feels to be totally yours even if it's only for one night."

He rested his head against your chest, "You’ll always be mine."

His hands traveled to the hem of your shirt and his fingers ran over the soft skin of your stomach. Undoing the button of your jeans he slowly slid them down your legs and you stepped out of them.

Standing up he lifted the thin fabric of your shirt over your head and you stood before him waiting as he took his off too. Unclasping your bra he sighed as he looked at you taking in your shape, his fingertips hovering over your hard nipples.

"I’ve never done this before," he confessed.

"Me either," you whispered. "I've only ever wanted it to be you."

More relaxed he let his mouth start exploring your body. You were goosebumps and shivers beneath him as his tongue found it’s home between your legs.

He was soft and careful, placing his lips over your clit sucking it in delicately until your moans couldn’t be contained any longer. You could feel his eyes burning into you as he watched in awe as his finger slid inside you.

"It feels good Kookie, please…"

You could feel his mouth stopping to smile before he picked up speed. Moving your hips to eagerly meet his mouth you were unravelling quickly.

"The way you taste is better than anything I had imagined."

Devouring you in sessions between his words of adoration you came hard on his tongue.

"I'm really regretting running you all over town today when we could have just been here...doing that.. " You were out of breath.

"I was worried that I wouldn't be any good." He grinned at you pleased with himself.

Moving up to where your head lay on the pillow he pushed the dampened hair off your face, "Are you ok? Do you need anything?"

He placed his forehead against yours.

"I just want you. I need you to know I'm yours, forever.

Rolling a condom on he moved slowly to line himself up with your entrance.

"Tell me if you need me to stop okay?"

He pushed carefully, slowly stretching you around him. Watching intently for discomfort he froze when he saw the tears welling in your eyes.

"Shit, I’m so sorry, let’s stop, I didn’t mean to hurt you." He was apologetic as he thumbed away the tears.

"No," you delicately kissed his lips. "I’m okay… I’m just so happy, so overwhelmed with how much I’m feeling right now."

He smiled down at you, pressing his body closer he gave another push until he was fully inside. Your bodies fell into a beautifully choreographed rhythm until Jungkook was so lost in pleasure he began to move at his own pace. Quicker and deeper he moved until he finally spilled into the condom.

Laying together in euphoria you kissed, and kissed, and kissed until you finally found sleep while wrapped around one other.

Every few hours he’d wake you up. His hands running over your body checking to make sure you weren't just a dream. You’d made love each time, everytime better than the last.

It was 9 am when he caressed you awake once more.

"I have to leave soon. I don’t want to." He spoke in whispers nestled into your neck. "Please tell me to stay."

Your heart broke at his words. "If I ask you to stay, I’m selfish, you’ll always wonder if you made the right decision." The tears came, knowing you had to do what was right. "If I tell you to go, your dreams come true… ” your voice trailed off.

"And I’ll always wonder if I made the right decision,” he finished.

Your phone started ringing and you knew time was up.

It was Joon, "I’m outside. Sorry, I held them off as long as I could. I told them that I’d come get him so you could at least have time to say goodbye."

Your tears fell out in heavy ugly sobs, "Okay, five minutes… and Joon… thanks, I know you’re probably in trouble too."

Hanging up you turned back, Jungkook was already out of bed with his clothes thrown on. He stood with open arms bravely waiting.

"Thank you for yesterday I'll never forget it."

Laying your head against his chest you took a moment to listen to his heartbeat. You could hear him sniffle and knew he was crying too.

You flashed back remembering that night long ago when he came to you homesick, holding you so he could sleep while he tried to hide his tears. There was a knock at the door and Namjoon’s voice broke through the moment.

"We’ve got to go Jungkook."

Stepping away you’d left his shirt soaked in tears, handing him his sweater he pushed it back towards you. "You keep it."

He kissed you one last time before opening the door to reveal Namjoon's weary face. His Hyung put his arm around his shoulder and led him to the car.

Turning one last time he looked back, his eyes were filled with tears as he gave a small wave before getting in the back of the big black sedan.

For months you pretended that management was the only thing keeping you apart.

You held on to that silly notion until May when they were coming for the Billboard awards. For weeks leading up you waited for a message, a secret meeting arrangement, but you got nothing. His image was all over the TV and his voice echoed through your empty heart. Then, just like that, it was over and he was gone again.

Now, here you stood in your kitchen, his letter bringing him to the forefront of your mind and opening old wounds.

He was just as sad as you but what could you do?

Picking up a pen you began writing…

I shouldn’t have done it but I read it in your letter

You said to a friend that you wish you were doing better

I wanted to reach out but I never said a thing

You don’t ever have to be stronger than you really are

And honey, you don’t ever have to act cooler than you think you should

You’re brighter than the brightest stars

You’re scared to win, scared to lose

I’ve heard the war was over if you really choose

The one in and around you

You hate the heat, you got the blues

You’re changing like the weather, oh, that’s so like you

I’ll pick you up

I’ll catch you on the flipside

If you come back to California

We’ll do whatever you want, travel wherever, how far

We’ll hit up all the old places

We’ll have a party, we can dance till dawn…

Y/N

October came again and a chill was in the air, the smell of the ocean hit your nose and you stopped to take it in.

Bundled in Jungkook’s hoodie you threw your bag over your shoulder and began your walk to work. You'd gotten lucky, Movement had hired you just as you were about to give up and leave California. Filled with hope and excitement a new intensive program was scheduled to start today and you were going to meet the future superstars of the dance world.

Memories flooded your mind as you made your way through the familiar neighborhood. It still hurt, but things were beginning to feel happy again. Writing the letter had given you closure, he knew how you felt and beyond that there was nothing else you could do.

Opening the heavy door to the studio you caught a familiar reflection moving in the mirror. Chalk marker in hand he was writing something, It couldn’t be?

Hearing the door click back into place he turned to face you.

"Hi."

He walked towards you slowly. Unsure of what your reaction would be, he approached with caution.

"Hi."

You were breathless, in the months of not seeing him he’d only grown more handsome.

"I can’t change what happened… and for the rest of my life I’ll be sorry for all of the time we missed."

He was getting closer.

"But I can’t take another day not knowing if I can fix this… somehow…"

He reached for your hand but you pulled it away. His head fell in disappointment.

"Jungkook, I can’t listen to this… look at me."

Reaching for his chin you pulled his head up until he was facing you again.

"I refuse to listen to you apologize for something that is out of your control. Your life was decided before you met me and I am nothing but grateful that I got to appear in some part of your story."

He tilted his head and pressed a small kiss into the hand that was still holding his chin.

"God I’ve missed you." He wrapped his arms tightly around your waist.

"How long are you here? I’ve got to teach class.. It’s the first day but I’d love it if we could catch up?"

He laughed at you and your knees buckled at the sound of his happiness.

Taking his chance he pressed his lips to yours and you could feel the smile forming on his face.

"I’m your private lesson Jagi, I’ve booked you for the next two weeks."

Taking a step back you had to ask, "How Jungkook? What will you be giving up?"

Pulling you back to his embrace he began to dance with you.

"There is no more giving up, on anything. Our contracts were over and I only had one thing I wouldn’t negotiate on, that’s you."

He guided you to look at the mirror.

"I wrote you something."

~Please call my name one more time

I’m standing under the frozen light,

but I’ll walk step by step towards you

Still with you ~

"I promise I’ll never let you go again."

#jungkook #bts jungkook #jeon jungkook #Jeongguk #jungkook x reader #kookie #nochu #10 years with jungkook #california #lana del rey

59 notes · View notes

pascalscenarios · 3 years

Text

HOW TO LOVE (Marcus Pike x Reader

HOW TO LOVE

Marcus Pike x Reader

Summary: To say thank you for helping you out last night, you take Marcus out for Lunch

Warning: None

Words: 2016

Author's Note: Hello! It’s been a hot minute! Sorry I haven't posted in a while. I’ve kinda been all over the place for the last two weeks. I finally had time to actually write! I’ll try my best to go back to posting on Saturdays/Sunday like I was.

My Whiskey fic Common Ground, will be coming up soon pretty soon. Sorry for the wait!

Hope you all are doing well! Enjoy! ( this chapters sorta boring sorry :( )

- K

CH 1| CH 2 | CH 3

Chapter 3

You sat at the information desk as you watched Marcus from across the lobby. The Art crime team came in early this morning. You were observing him, taking notice of how he interacts with others. He was talking to another agent. His hands were on his hips laughing about something. You wanted to say thank you again for last night, but you didn’t feel like bothering him.

You must have been staring for a while because the other agent took notice. They said something making Marcus look over his shoulder, locking eyes with you.

You were caught, but you tried to play it off as best you could. You quickly make yourself look busy, picking up a pen and writing random things down on a blank piece of paper.

Your eyes slowly glaze up seeing Marcus say something to the agent and walk towards your way. You continued writing on the paper making a fake to-do list, writing whatever popped into your mind.

“Hey” he smiled standing in front of the desk.

“Hi”

“How’s your day been for far?”

“Uh...busy!” you say, not daring to look up at him, embarrassed that he saw you staring at him. You didn’t know why you were still trying to pretend, you were caught.

“Really? Because I’m pretty sure I saw you staring at me.” he joked at you, smiling.

You felt your cheeks burn. There was no doubt you were turning red.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to stare...”

He chuckled. “It’s alright”

“It’s just...I.. uh...I wanted to say thank you again… you know for last night” you finally look at him, fiddling with your pen.

“Yeah, it was no problem. Did you make it home okay?”

“ I did, thanks to you.”

“I’m glad to hear that.”

“How about you? You made it home alright?”

“Yeah, just fine...If something like that happens again, just let me know...actually-” He leans in close, grabbing the yellow sticky note from off your desk, and takes the pen that you were holding from your hands.

“Here” He quickly scribbles something down, peeling it off and handing it with the pen back to you.

You take it as he places the sticky note pad back on your desk.

You look down at what he wrote.

Marcus: 202-555-4275

He gave you his number.

“My cell phone number in case you need anything...Is that okay?” He was hoping he wasn’t overstepping.

“Yeah, thank you” you smiled.

“Alright, well I just wanted to tell you hello real quick. I’ll see you around.” With that, he smiles and makes his way towards the elevators.

Without thinking you called out his name “Marcus!”

He turns around looking at you. “Yeah?”

“Do you wanna maybe get lunch later today? My treat. It’s the least I could do since you helped me out last night.” you offered. You felt bad for the way you treated him and then he was willing to help you. You wanted to return the kind gesture.

He smiled brightly at you.

“Sure, I’ll swing by your desk at 12?”

“Yeah” “Okay, I’ll see you then!” With that, he heads on his way.

“Lunch date with Marcus Pike?” Laurie chimes in, sitting in her seat next to yours and we both watch him wait for the elevators.

You spin your chair back facing towards, Laurie following. You take the sticky note, folding it up, and stuffing it in your pants pocket. “It’s not a lunch date...more of a thank-you lunch. I got caught up in the rain last night and my car got towed while I was printing the packets out.”

“Oh my gosh, I am so sorry. I should have gotten those packets printed out earlier-”

“No! It’s not your fault. Everything worked out fine actually. Marcus was still around. He gave me a ride and helped me get my car back from the impound...It was really sweet honestly.”

“See he’s not so bad after all. Give him a chance dear, get to know him.”

Although you were still a little wary of him, part of you was curious to learn more about Marcus.

…

It was noon. Marcus should be coming around soon. You were working on brainstorming ideas

“You ready?” Marcus

“Sorry, just give a few minutes.”

“No worries take your time.” He says he patiently waits for you.

You head over to the office grabbing your wallet and phone from your bag. You walked back out into the desk area placing the lunch break sign out, then walking over to the short desk door, letting yourself out.

“Where do you want to go?”

“I know this good cafe that’s not far from here, it's down a block. Not too far, we can walk.”

“Okay.”

You two head over to the exit, Marcus opening the door for you. “Thanks”

He gives you a smile as you exit, following behind you. You both made your way down the steps and onto the sidewalk. Today was a nice day. It was sunny, a blue sky with patches of clouds, and a soft wind blew.

“So” Marcus begins to say.

“How are you liking D.C. so far?” he stuffs his hands in his pocket as he walks beside you.

“It’s great. I’m from Virginia actually. My family used to drive up to D.C. all the time when I was a kid.” You smile thinking about the fond memories you have.

“Ah, so you’re used to all the hustle and bustle around here…” He chuckles.

“Sorta, It's different living here than visiting. I’m from a small town so the rush 27/7 is something I need to get used to.”

“I know what you mean, I’m originally from Texas. I worked at the FBI headquarters in Austin. I’m used to the rush but D.C. is a whole different type of face pace”

“Texas? You’re pretty far from home. How come you’re out here on the east coast?” you asked.

“In Austin, I was working on local art crime cases. I got offered a promotion to run a task force here in D.C. dealing with international art crime.”

“Wow, that's great.”

“Thanks”

“How long have you lived here?”

“Couple years now.”

“Do you miss home?”

“Yeah, I do, some aspects of it, like my friends and family. I try to visit when I can, if not then phone calls and facetime are the next best thing.” He stayed silent for a few moments. “Do you miss home?” “Not really, other than my parents. I’m glad I got out of my hometown honestly. It’s like a breath of breath air.” you sighed in relief.

“Yeah, I’m kinda glad I got out of Austin. I had a fiance back home. We were supposed to start a life out here, but she ended up leaving me for another man.”

Maybe this was what Elliot meant when he said you might have something in common with Marcus… ex issues. You felt terrible that Marcus' fiance left him for another man. It reminded you of the countless times your ex cheated on you. You knew the feeling. The feeling of hurt and betrayal.

“Marcus, I’m so sorry-”

“It’s alright. It was a while ago. I’ve moved past it.” He shrugged.

“I know, but still that must have hurt.” You say sadly.

“It did, but what happened, happened. Life moves forwards. The person you’re meant to be with will come along eventually.”

Marcus was so optimistic and helpful when it came to love, unlike you. You on the other hand were fearful and scared of it.

“Here we are.”

He says stopping in front of an old brick building. You look up reading the sign outside.

Martells’

“It’s a family-owned cafe and has been here for years. They got the best sandwiches in D.C.”

…

You were slowly warming up to Marcus, starting to grow comfortable in his presence. You two sat at a table for the past hour eating lunch and talking about random things. He asked you questions about yourself. He was genuinely interested and cared about getting to know you, your hobbies, and your passions. It was strange for you, but it felt nice to be heard and even seen in a sense. Your ex never cared or seemed interested when it came to things you were interested in or liked.

Marcus told a story about his first case as an agent. He couldn’t help but laugh at his own story, poking fun of himself. A huge smile was smeared on his face, his eyes squinting as he laughed. You liked his laugh. It was that contagious.

“Oh no!” You gasped, laughing.

“They never let me hear the end of it. To this day, they still talk about it down in Austin. My old coworkers still give me shit for it when I talk to them.” He shakes his head.

“How did you even bounce back from that?”

“You didn’t…You wait until someone makes a bigger mistake, but mine was top tier. I don’t think anyone could outdo what I did, but I managed to figure out cases which took most of the attention away” He picks up his soda, taking a sip.

His phone began to ring. He pulls it out of his pocket looking at the caller ID.

“Sorry I gotta take this”

“No, of course”

“Hello?” he answers the call. “Yeah...Mhm...Shit. Okay, I’ll be there in a few.” He hands up, stuffing the phone back in his pocket.

“I’m sorry, something came up, I have to go to the FBI building.”

“I understand. I should be going back anyway.” You looked down at your watch. You lost track of time. You went over your lunch break.

The two of you stand up, throwing your trash away and exiting the cafe.

“Alright, I guess I’ll see you,” You tell Marcus.

“I’m not going anywhere yet.”

You furrow your eyebrows at him, “But you have to go??? Aren't you gonna take a cab or is someone gonna pick you up”

“Yeah I gotta go, but I’m walking you back”

“Marcus, you seriously don’t need to” You were fine walking back on your own.

“No, I’m walking with you back” He insisted.

“But-” you tried to protest.

He cuts you off “-No buts, come on”

You gave up trying to argue about it and you let him walk back with him. When you reach the museum steps you both stop.

“Thank you for lunch.”

“You’re welcome. Martells was great. You weren’t kidding when you said the sandwiches were good.”

“I told you...I had a great time. Maybe we could do lunch again some other time?”

“Yeah. I’d like that.”

“Great...I’ll see you later. I hope you have a good rest of your day.”

“You too, Marcus”

You lightly wave. You make your way up the steps to the top. You look over your shoulder, seeing that Marcus was still standing. Once he sees that he reaches the top, he walks away down the sidewalk back in the direction you guys came from.

You open the entrance door walking through the lobby to the information desk. You see Elliot at the desk talking to Laurie.

“Well look you came back from her overextended lunch..” Elliot teases.

“I’m so sorry, I lost track of time-” You say as you make your way to your chair.

“It’s fine, you don’t have to apologize, especially if you were on a date with Marcus Pike!”

“How’d it go?’ Laurie asked.

“First off, It wasn't a date, it was a thank-you lunch” you addressed Elliot, “second, it was fine,” you tell Laurie.

“Fine? Just fine?” Elliot gives you a look.

“Yeah…”

“That’s it?” Elliot was expecting more.

“What do you want me to say, Elliot?”

“More than just that it was fine!”

“Elliot, Marcus, and I hardly know each other. All we did was talk. That was it.” You rolled your eyes.

“What do you think about him?” Laurie asked.

“He’s...different.”

“Different bad or Different good?” Elliot raised an eyebrow at you curious as to what your response will be.

“Good...Different good.” a smile slowly crept on your face.

TAG // @alberta-sunrise @spacenerdpascal @ryleyrooroo @reader-s-cantina

MT // @wifeofdindjarin @icanbeyourjedi @sara-alonso @greeneyedblondie44

#the mentalist #marcus pike x reader #marcus pike #Marcus #Pedro Pascal #pedro

43 notes · View notes

tuagonia · 3 years

Text

mistletoe - adam du mortain x f! detective

Pairing: Adam du Mortain x f!detective Summary: The detective catches an unsuspecting Adam under the mistletoe during the division’s holiday party. Rating: G/T (to be sure).Pretty tame, just fluff. Warning: alcohol mention. Word Count: 2.3k Note: I just really really wanted to write this scene that cropped up in my head during a f u n bout of insomnia. I’d like to think this takes place teetering on the edge right before the deep romance sweeps these two fools away. Anyway i used this fic as a way to get over my fear of writing for twc and to get to know my detective... before i launch into the other ideas i have.

—

It’s not that she’s drunk.

No. Not drunk.

Happy, most definitely, and loquacious. More than the usual amount of conversation that he’s used to. And more laughter.

Definitely more laughter.

It’s an unrefined, rough, pitched-at-the-end sound he’s grown used to (fond of?) over the last year.

Where the more uncouth the subject... the more untamed it becomes, and fighting the stiff edges of his mouth to remain in place becomes an active task.

There’s something so unsuspecting about it too, like how everything concerning her has been up to now.

Olivia dances with Felix and Nate, and his oldest friend attempts to teach her how to move with the steps that feel like a lifetime ago. Where her shoulders, ankles, hips twist and she turns on the spot.

She sways with the motions of days gone past, as if she’s caught time in her hands — the elixir to it in her mug of wine clasped firmly in her grip — and Nate praises her.

Adam didn’t catch the name, he didn’t care for it six decades ago and he doesn’t think he’ll bother remembering it now. But he’s certain it’s something as ridiculous sounding as it looks... if she weren’t doing it surprising justice.

When she spins in Felix’s arms, the silver, sparkling discs of her dress catch in the station’s white light and he’s dazzled...more than he usually already is.

No. Not drunk.

Just happy.

In the handful of instances she stops by him during her social rounds, she asks if he wants anything -- a refill of the uninspiring wine? -- and his responses are short. Yes. No. Good. Hmm. And when he doesn’t have the words he manages a slight shake of his head or a passive shrug.

Too distracted by the smile on her face, the mischief he can see twinkling behind her eyes. Sometimes, he can believe it. That she was a troublemaker, up to no good with too much time on her hands, and not this...woman...this decorous facade of pencil skirts, unscuffed heels, and neatly ironed blouses.

He can hear it in the deep, unearthed tone she takes when she lands a passing, unassuming, coquettish comment.

The reason he keeps his answers mono-syllabic.

He watches as she hovers over the snack table, where the food has undoubtedly gone cold, compiling a paper plate of random assortments and grabbing a tin of soda. And when he can no longer see her, he follows the sound of her heels out of the main floor towards the entrance -- barely visible from the wall he’s been hugging all night.

Olivia places the plate on the officer’s desk currently on graveyard duty. He's been longingly listening to and watching the party taking place just a few steps away. But he thanks the detective kindly, playfully clinks tin against mug of wine.

She meets his eye on the way back -- brief, ever so brief -- before turning her gaze downward.

“You should come,” she said, directing her attention to the rest of the group. She avoided his stare, almost always avoiding his stare when it came to matters of bypassing his jurisdiction. But flitted reflexively to him, and then swivelled back to Nate and Felix (briefly over Mason), and she repeated. “All of you. You’re practically honourary members of the division.”

And although she didn’t say it to him, Adam knows (hopes?) she expected him to answer the invitation.

Earlier in the evening (much earlier because how long is this going to go on for?), Nate asks him if he’s enjoying himself and Adam muddles together a gruff answer.

His response, with the words “work commitment” hardly audible, prompts bark-like laughter from the second-in-command and claps him on the shoulder before heading back towards the crowd.

At the end of the night, which finally arrives right when Adam decides he can’t take another rendition of the tracklist that’s been on loop for the past four hours, he stays behind to help the detective clean up.

He sends the rest of the unit home, much to Mason’s relief and much to Felix’s displeasure, and volunteers to make sure the detective catches her cab and gets home safely.

Or, at least, that’s what he tells himself after Felix winks at him, corralled out of the station by Nate.

And then they’re alone... save for the officer who’s gone on his break.

She moves about space, clearing paper cups and forgotten plates of food in a large garbage bag. And she talks, and talks, and talks.

Adam loses track of what exactly, he’s just too busy listening to the quality of her voice. A little hoarse after all the chatting over the music and enthusiastic laughter. It gives it a new edge, one he could grow to like -- the sudden deep, tender quality of it.

Definitely not drunk as she launches into a spiel about something or other Nate taught her last week.

She tends to do this, jabber on about absolutely nothing in particular when it’s just the two of them. And although he prefers silence, he welcomes it. Because sometimes she’s not actually talking to him, instead using the stoic agent’s still presence to bounce ideas off of.

Not like he minds.

He’ll be whatever she needs him to be.

Adam tenses, unaware of where the thought could have surfaced out of so easily. He shocks himself out of his trance, out of following the detective around the room with soft, measured steps. Out of the unconscious non-committal noises he punctuates breaks in her speech with.

He stops just short of the doorway of the kitchenette.

Olivia turns to face him after dumping a number of coffee cups in the sink. She quirks an eyebrow, wiping her hands in a tea towel before casting it aside. Her mouth opens, but whatever witty remark she has ready dies in her throat.

Adam can’t decipher the zoetrope of emotions that flicker then disappear, hiding and lurking behind a wily smile. Her mouth is the colour of wild berries, purples and reds, and the crisp jasmine notes in her perfume remind him of a frosty mid-afternoon -- low winter sun in his eyes as he wades through a forest.

He can’t look right at her.

Gleaming winks of silver, a peek of white teeth, and a twinkle behind a dark curtain of hair.

“What?”

He can scarcely recognise his voice, mostly a husky and unexpected croak.

A full view of pearly teeth and the stretch of Mondeuse Blanche shiraz-coloured lips.

Adam almost misses the throw-away manner she points a finger up in the space in between them. For a fraction of a second, he’s distracted from the sudden kick of her heart and flickers his gaze to where she’s directing him.

Obnoxious oval-shaped gold leaves, thickly crowded plastic branches, and pearly-coloured fake berries hover in the space he’s decidedly placed between them. His stomach lurches in immediate recognition of the artificial plant.

“Mistletoe,” she chuckles an airy sort of sound. Different from all the crass, rough gleeful noises she made all night.

A sound, maybe, she might wield against his sanity?

Adam’s gone rigid, the heat he’s been staving off all night makes a mockery of him, only egged on by the tugging of her lips when he glances back down at her.

She steps closer and he can’t react fast enough, genetic mutations damned under her vexatious gaze. Her heart thumps a little heavier, a chaotically determined sound he can’t fend off.

His own heart starts up that racket he’s grown to call reckless.

“I heard,” she begins, so close now he can see the little scar on her nose from an old piercing. Tannin, oak, and jasmines -- the sparkling and sweet scent of violet from her lipstick, “that it’s bad luck...to refuse a kiss under the mistletoe.”

The click of the ‘k’ and the hiss of the ‘s’ in that word hanging so heavy in the air, the breath of its remnants brush his cheek. Faintly, his mind wanders between two realms. One of old wives tales and superstitions where a kiss is required for every berry in the bunch and, the second, how, if it weren’t for those heels, where would that breath have landed instead?

Her sly grin is tickled by his lack of response, the stiffness creeping into his muscles and his conflicted expression.

“Commanding Agent, do you -- maybe -- want to help me…” she begins, another step closer and this time he doesn't think he wants to move, “fight off any unnecessary misfortunes?”

Adam doesn’t recognise himself. He doesn’t know where it comes from, or how he’s sanctioned the movement of his body. It’s minimal, but to Olivia, who has spent the last year fighting off the hunger from the nearly nonexistent mementoes, it’s colossal.

The smug smile on her face nearly slips.

It’s the tiniest, faintest, barely discernible half-nod as his gaze refuses to leave the curve of her lower lip. Fuller, rounder... he’s thought of the seam of her mouth longer than he’d like to dwell on.

She moves forward and there are no thoughts just the drumming in his chest that pounds a deafening beat. Her hand finds his first, a comfort from the heat roaring inside him, and he responds by tracing the lines of her palms with jittery fingertips.

Olivia shivers and why does that thrill him? He wonders how long until she decides to put him out of his misery.

Please. Please. Please. The thumping against his ribcage wants to meet the erratic pulse of hers.

Roused by his response, her other hand so warm and soft draws a curious path up his arm, over the swell of his bicep and past his shoulder before it hesitates to fully press at the back of his neck where he knows she can feel fevered skin.

It takes her an eternity, staring up at him with hooded eyes, dark fluttering eyelashes almost touching the tops of her cheeks. And he’d wait until whatever comes after that eternity.

This is the closest she’s ever been to him and he can’t help but revere the details he once took for granted.

Olivia rises and the hand behind his neck cautiously coaxes him to meet her.

And then, right as he thinks the world beneath his feet as he knows it will be thrown off its axis, she tilts her head a fraction and the hot press of her mouth meets his blushing cheek instead.

She lingers and everything amplifies.

She is a dizzying bottle of Chianti, left out in the sun too long, and warming him all the way down with each indulgent sip.

A field of blooming shrubs of jasmines.

Warm, brisk, spring morning sun.

He hears her deeply inhale, and does he have the same effect on her like she does on him?

His heightened senses register the moment she parts and moves away, suddenly cold and left with the weight of the cream of her lipstick.

Her touch is deliberate, soaking up the feel of his skin, the fine hairs at his nape, under her gliding palms -- and she settles back on her heels.

The imprint of her lips remains on his cheek, willing it to singe him -- mark him -- so he never has to forget what they feel like. The pressure of her mouth, the moment her breath shuddered.

Olivia makes to touch his cheek, to wipe away all evidence with the sweep of her thumb, but Adam stops her. He catches her wrist with reflexes she’ll never get used to.

He closes his eyes and he tunes in to the demanding call of his heart, thundering, thundering, thundering. And it won’t still.

Just a moment longer.

Is what it would ask.

Just a moment longer, so he can memorise the feel of her mark on his skin -- of the instance she cherished him, made room for him, during a fleeting blip that will be her life.

Olivia moves again, fighting against the gentle strength of his hand, and she rubs the pad of her thumb once, twice, three times. Until the smudge of her affection is reduced to a memory.

She smiles, unlike the smiles she shared earlier. There is no arrogance, no teasing, no playful ridicule.

She smiles -- with those lips that have touched him.

A sharp ringing echoes in the tiny kitchenette and, like he’s waking from a deep sleep, he blinks away the haze of their bewitchment.

As if nothing happened, Olivia digs into her purse, sources her mobile and answers. The conversation is brief, he doesn’t follow any of it, still reeling from her magnetism.

“My cab’s outside,” she says when she hangs up.

Still paralyzed, Olivia meets his eye and grins, before she drops her gaze to the floor.

She shakes her head and releases a small, anxious laugh. She touches his arm when she moves past him, out of the kitchenette, and heads for the exit.

He watches her leave, listening to the light click-clack of heels, still shaking her head and-- he practically hears the smile in her voice when she calls out behind her.

“Happy holidays, Commanding Agent du Mortain.”

Note II: Yeah, it’s The Twist. Nate was teaching Felix and Olivia the twist....because I said so and because i hc N being really into the 60s/70s music scene....long legs.....in....flared....jeans. So many typos. But if I didn’t post it when I did I was never going to post it.

#the wayhaven chronicles #a du mortain #adam du mortain #adam du mortain x detective #i wrote this in a haze of sleep deprivation ...bone smack the teeth #writing #y’all see typos you look away I’m too fra jeel e.#the amount of #repetition is astounding lol okay I’m done rereading before I go 🍌#I really loved an italicized word huh #tuagonia writes twc

76 notes · View notes

hermannsthumb · 4 years

Note

Hi! I really love your writing and I'd be curious to see what you would write for 36 on the Autumn fic list. ❤️

36. Scarecrow

from autumn fic prompts here

just a little short one! more gen than shippy I realized but I mean. theyre basically married in this so

-----------

Hermann is never quite ready to deal with Newton first thing in the morning, but some days--most days--he is less ready than usual. Some days he simply wants to enter the lab, drink his coffee, and exist in blissful silence for even ten minutes before it’s back to explosions and blaring music and alien guts. Ten minutes. No Newton. Is that so much?

Evidently it is. The scarecrow is sitting on a bale of hay outside the laboratory door when Hermann arrives one rainy October morning, staring, unseeing, out at him, a sad little lump of straw shoved into tan nylon stockings and surrounded by plastic pumpkins. It’s dressed in a sweater and glasses. It’s frowning. Hermann sighs.

“Newton,” he says.

Newton pokes his head around the doorframe. He’s dressed in a bright purple sweater, dotted with little orange Jack-O-Lanterns--a massive eyesore, if you ask Hermann. Unlike the scarecrow, he’s grinning. “Good morning!” he says. Hermann gestures to the scarecrow with his cane. Newton shrugs. “The lab was looking a little boring,” he says. “Anyway, it’s Halloween!”

“In a week,” Hermann reminds him, pushing inside past him. Thankfully, Newton has reserved the bulk of the Halloween decorations (orange string lights, a couple more plastic pumpkins, some garland) for his half, though a few paper bats are threatening to creep over to Hermann’s chalkboards. Though it’s not too noticeable--if he squints, it’s as if they’re not there. Unfortunately the same principles do not apply to Newton.

“Doesn’t mean we can’t be festive,” Newton says, half-jogging to keep up with him. “Hey, can I have some of that? The pot’s busted again.” He grabs Hermann’s mug of coffee and takes a long, long sip, making a face when he’s done. “Gross. Why do you always add so much sugar?”

“In the hopes it will dissuade certain people from doing precisely what you just did,” Hermann says, yanking it back. Newton’s put away half of it, the bloody bastard. Just once Hermann would like to have a single drink to himself. Or bit of food, even; Newton snags his bagel from where he hasn’t quite managed to hide it in the crossword puzzle folded under his arm next and takes a large chunk out of it. “Where on Earth did you find hay in the middle of the bloody city?”

“Placed an order a few months ago,” Newton says, through a mouthful of Hermann’s bagel, “though technically it’s straw, not hay. 'S different. Cost a fucking arm and a leg either way, but it was worth it for the, like, reminiscing about childhood memories or whatever, like going on hayrides and picking pumpkins. And decorating. I sold a little bit of a kaiju stomach I didn’t need anymore to pay for it, so don’t tell anyone, because it wasn’t totally legal, but--” He takes another bite of the bagel. “You should really start putting cream cheese on these. They’re so dry. That’s the only way they taste good. Or jam, at least. Or Nutella! You can use my jar.”

“I don’t like jam on my bagels,” Hermann says.

Newton tears off the uneaten half of the bagel and hands it back over. “Cream cheese,” he says. He crams the rest of his half into his mouth, and adds, spraying crumbs across Hermann’s blazer, “Nutella.”

“It’s an everything bagel,” Hermann says. “It has--onion, and the like. It wouldn’t taste good with Nutella either. Why don’t you just get your own if you’re so dissatisfied with mine?”

“Do you like the scarecrow?” Newton says.

Hermann sighs. “Yes,” he says, hoping that it’s the answer that will be make Newton leave him alone sooner. He places his mug and crossword puzzle down on his desk; Newton sits on the edge next to them. “Yes, it’s a marvelous scarecrow. Truly horrifying. Would you mind giving me five minutes to myself, please?”

“Hmm,” Newton says. “Does it seem...familiar?”

“Five minutes, please, Newton,” Hermann says brusquely, and raps his cane against Newton’s ankles until Newton finally sighs and jumps down to the floor. Hermann examines his pathetic bagel half with a little frown; it’s a good thing Newton graciously pretends to be unaware of the secret stash of tangerines in Hermann’s lower desk drawer, or he’d never have a proper breakfast.

“I was just wondering,” Newton says. “I just thought it looked a little familiar, you know? And I thought you might think so too.”

“Perhaps your glasses prescription is out of date,” Hermann says. He begins to work on his tangerine peel. “Did you make the bats yourself? I admit that they’re rather good. Very evenly cut. Symmetrical.” He splits the tangerine open and offers a piece to Newton.

“Yeah, I did,” Newton says, taking the piece, and is blessedly silent after that.

Newton has been expecting the arrival of a new piece of kaiju all week, and--when it finally come around noon--it should figure that he’s out of the laboratory for it, and the task of interacting with the delivery man falls entirely to Hermann. “I haven’t the faintest idea where he wants it,” Hermann sighs, as the man lingers in the doorway, gazing--curiously--between Hermann and the scarecrow. “By the sink, I suppose.” He begins the long descent down his ladder to supervise, cursing Newton’s name all the while. He’s certain that no matter how he instructs the man Newton will be displeased with the end result.

“Which sink?” the man asks, tearing his eyes away from Newton’s display.

“Not the one by the kettle,” Hermann says. “No, not--” He scowls, equal parts in frustration and annoyance. “Oh, where is that wretched man?”

Together (Hermann instructing, and the man pushing) they get the kaiju tank next to Newton’s work sink, though not without the minor casualty of a few strands of paper bats. Newton will survive, Hermann’s sure. “Thank you,” Hermann tells him. “I’m sure my lab partner will be very pleased.”

“Sure thing,” the delivery man says. Then, to Hermann’s surprise, he smirks. “Did he make that scarecrow out there?”

“Er,” Hermann says. “Yes, he did, as a matter of fact.”

“It’s a good likeness,” the man says.

Likeness? Hermann waits until he’s gone to peep his head out into the corridor, and nearly swears at how thick he’d been. It’s quite clear who the scowling scarecrow is supposed to be now that Hermann is no longer in a caffeine-less haze: the sweatervest is not only a sweatervest, but one of Hermann’s own, the glasses Hermann’s spare pair, and attached to one of its hands is a box of chalk. “How charming,” he grumbles. Their frowns are identical.

Luckily, he knows where Newton keeps his own spare pair of glasses.

Newton’s lunch hour (when he bothers to take it) is typically more like two hours, and so Hermann has plenty of time to do what he needs to do before Newton comes waltzing back in with a carton of noodles for Hermann. “They had your favorite today,” he says. He sets it down on Hermann’s desk. “What are you all smug about?”

“Nothing,” Hermann says. Too quickly.

Newton narrows his eyes. “Wait a second,” he says.

Hermann does not watch for his reaction when he marches back out to the hallway, though he does allow himself a little smile when Newton lets out a sudden burst of laughter. The scarecrow was easy to re-dress--a shirt and tie from Newton’s immense collection of emergency lab attire, the spare glasses from his desk, a couple squiggles with markers on the nylon stocking arms. The shirt was even pre-splattered with kaiju blood. “You are the worst,” Newton crows delightedly. “God, you suck so bad. I can’t believe you ruined my scarecrow! I would’ve made you one too if you asked!”

"Oh, I don’t know,” Hermann says, idly flipping through some paperwork. “You’re far scarier. I don’t imagine we’ll be getting any visitors here now.”

“Ha, ha,” Newton says. “Where the fuck did I put the extra straw?”

There are two scarecrows sitting on haybales by the end of the day, glaring out at anyone who dares disturb the peace of the k-science division, one with tattoos, one in a sweatervest. Newton has been known to have the occasional good idea.

#newmann #maria's fanfiction tag #Anonymous

54 notes · View notes

inevitably-johnlocked · 4 years

Note

do you have any fics of john flirting with sherlock over text? maybe sherlock being utterly clueless? thank you & and much luv ❤️

Hi Nonny!!!

Ahhhhhhhhhh AGES ago, I did an Epistolary / Texting / Letters fic rec list, back before I had A System™, so it’s a bit messy but it is there :) I don’t have a lot of new ones to add to it, BUT I decided I would pull all the Texting fics from that list since I now have neater organization with tags and Chapters, and then just add my NEW fics onto that one, how about that? Would that be okay? It wouldn’t be specifically just flirting, but I think that the list is long overdue anyway!! Hope you like something on this one, and I’ll TRY to tag the flirting fics WITH flirting so that you can pick them out :)

And as always, add your own fics, Lovelies!! <3

TEXTING AND SEXTING (JULY 2020)

See also:

Epistolary / Texting / Letters (My List, 2017)

First Meeting Via Internet / Phone / Letters (Mine)

Phone Sex & Texting (Alexx’s List)

Wrong Number Texting (Alexx’s List)

They Met Online or Texting (Alexx’s List)

Message Not Sent by Queerasil (K, 762 w., 1 Ch. || Angst, One-Sided Texting, Pining Sherlock) - Sherlock texts John after the fall and during the hiatus. The messages are sent, but never received. Sequel to WORDLOCKED, TSTM, and Wait, How Do You Play This Game Again?

Texts and Tea by JillianWatson1058 (K, 959 w., 1 Ch. || Friendship, Texting, Humour, Fluff, POV John, Cranky John) – A John who is woken up at 2:30 in the morning is not a happy John. Sherlock, frankly, doesn’t care. He just wants his tea.

Untouchable by greengrapegaze (T, 1,368 w., 1 Ch. || Pre-S3, UST/URT, Oblivious John, Lonely Sherlock, Angst with Happy Ending, Emotional Hurt / Comfort, Emotional Sherlock, POV Sherlock, Pining Sherlock) – “He never would. Petty, childish, immature-bitter. Jealous. She had all that he wanted. All he could never have.” Part 1 of Steps to a Bittersweet Symphony

Yorkshire Gold by Tammany Tiger (K, 1,467 w., 1 Ch. || Friendship, Hurt/Comfort, Mild Angst, Holmes Brothers, Open Ending, Grief, Implied Bondlock) – Mycroft may not mourn Sherlock's death-but even if he knows his brother lives, he's not without his own grief. It ain't easy being The British Government. But at least he's got good help. Set between the Fall and the Return.

Text Me When It's Over by immaculately-flawed (K+, 1,937 w., 1 Ch. || Friendship, Humour, Post-TRF, Texting, Sort-Of Pining Sherlock) – After the fall Sherlock starts writing texts to John. Of course, he never sends them... Until he does by accident. Post Reichenbach fic but not angsty.

Denial Isn’t Just a River in Egypt by satanatemycat (T, 2,107 w., 1 Ch. || Humour, Friendship, Texting, Bored/Cranky Sherlock) – In which John makes a bet with a co-worker. If he wins, she shuts up about him and Sherlock being a couple. If he loses… well, that doesn’t matter, because he won’t lose. Because he and Sherlock ARE NOT a couple. Right?

The Art Of Communication by StillWaters1 (T, 2,679 w., 1 Ch. || Friendship, H/C) – Lestrade was used to getting odd, non sequitur texts from Sherlock. But when "John went out for milk" was followed by a terse "two hours ago," Lestrade immediately understood three things: John was missing, Sherlock was quietly panicking, and this could all end very, very badly.

Unquantifiable by 221b_hound (M, 2,799 w. 1 Ch. || Est. Rel., Grumpy John, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Pet Names, Texting, Sweet Sherlock, Princess Bride References) – John remains a terrible and foul-tempered patient, but he does try to make up for it with pet names and text message silliness. In the meantime, Sally Donovan visits Baker Street for a hint about the Milverton case, and has to deal with a Sherlock Holmes who can't find words big enough to thank her for saving John's life at the warehouse. For afters, there's a viewing of The Princess Bride. Part 33 of the Unkissed series

The Sweetest Taste In The World by crossroads (G, 3,121 w., 1 Ch. || First Kiss, Jealous Sherlock, Fluff, Pining, Friends to Lovers) – The sweetest taste in the world is rarely ever the easiest to come by.

Entanglement by orphan_account (G, 3,218 w., 1 Ch. || Confessions, Physics, Metaphors, Texting, Pining, Christmas, Mind Palace, Sick Fic, Fluff, Humour, Praise Kink) - On Christmas Eve, snow covers London, John visits Harry, and Sherlock and Mrs. Hudson untangle some knots.

Come home. by hudders-and-hiddles (huddersandhiddles) (E, 3,763 w., 1 Ch. || Texting / Sexting, Lonely Sherlock, Nude Photos, Pining, Fluff & Smut) – When John leaves for a medical conference, Sherlock tries to entice him back home.

Happy anniversary by Salambo06 (E, 3,772 w., 1 Ch. || Est. Rel., Vulnerable Sherlock, Wedding Anniversary, Anal, Texting, Lingerie) – John inhaled deeply, feeling his cock pulse under the silk gown, and he let his eyes travel on the lean body in front of him. Sherlock was kneeling on the bed, their bed, and the picture had been taken so John could perfectly see his bare chest and pelvis. But what mattered most, what made John harden rather quickly, was the pair of panties Sherlock was wearing in the picture. Black, string over each hip and laces that outlined Sherlock’s erect cock barely hidden under the soft underwear.

Lingerie by Sexxica (E, 4,135 w., 1 Ch. || Valentine’s Day, Lingerie / Women’s Underwear, Mildly Public Masturbation, Picture Texting / Sexting, Bottomlock, Body Worship, Anal Sex / Fingering, Rimming, Orgasm Delay / Denial, Est. Rel.) – It's Valentines Day and Sherlock is taking John to Angelo's for dinner. Sherlock also happens to be wearing a garter belt, stockings and a rather small pair of women's underwear under his clothes. There's no dessert at Angelo's because John needs to get Sherlock home just as quickly as he can before they both lose their minds entirely.

If He Knows by shamelessmash (M, 4,513 w., 1 Ch. || TSo3 Fic, Pining Sherlock, Bed Sharing, Angst, First Person Sherlock POV, Texting, Internal Monologue, Blanket Forts) – I imagine mornings: John handing me a cup of tea, hair sticking out at odd angles. How he would bend down to kiss me, smiling fondly as he pulls away. The way his skin crinkles at the corner of his eyes, the way his skin looks in the morning light. The soft sigh as he sits in his chair with the morning paper, the way his toes curl in the carpet, the way he rolls his shoulders before sinking deeper into his seat. I watch him, how he is when he is content, as it should be. As he deserves. Happy. With me.

Tease You Till You Come by phoenix089 (E, 6,090 w., 1 Ch. || First Time, Clueless Sherlock, Sexting/Texting) – Initially, Sherlock was rather put out by John's lack of presence on the case. But then he starts to receive pictures, several of them, of an unexpected nature. The case is forgotten rather quickly after that.

What Did I Do Wrong? by Starlight05 (T, 7,880 w., 5 Ch. || Hurt Comfort, Angst, John Whump, Hospitalization, Worried Sherlock, Emotional Turmoil, Nightmares, Sherlock Being Dumb) - After John almost dies on a case, Sherlock disappears. So John is left to figure out what he can do to get his best friend back. Meanwhile Sherlock, guilt-ridden and willingly alone, is doing everything he can to stay away.

Bread and Wine and Curry Once a Week by cwb (E, 8,737 w., 1 Ch. || Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Stroppy Sherlock, Love Letters, POV John) – Sherlock asks John for relationship advice. Little does he know that it’s him that Sherlock is in love with.

A Building of Bridges by Unique (K, 12,325 w., 3 Ch. || Drama, Alternate First Meeting, John’s PTSD / Flashbacks, Mute John, Dialogue-Heavy, Caring Sherlock, Friendship) – No one would ever send Sherlock in to diffuse a stand-off; but on one unlikely day, that's exactly what happened. "Congratulations, Lestrade," he called out sarcastically. "You're traumatizing a war veteran."

A Brand of Gold by aquabelacqua (M, 12,757 w., 1 Ch. || Mutual Pining, POV John, Phone Sex, Texting, Masturbation, Long Distance, Drunk Texting) – What am I doing? he wondered. The answer came back at once: Flirting. He let the vital, missing piece snap into place as surely and as cleanly as if it had always been there. He was flirting with Sherlock Holmes.

Traitor's Gate by roane (E, 17,714 w., 6 Ch. || Post-TRF, Case Fic, Mystery, Bets and Wagers, Undercover for a Case, BAMF John, Scientist Sherlock, Teasing, Established Relationship, Military Base, Sexting/Texting, Military/Uniform Kink, Frottage, Dirty Sex, Anal, Bottomlock) – John and Sherlock go undercover at a top secret government lab to find out who is selling research. John is back in uniform and Sherlock is back in a laboratory, but they have to pose as strangers. Sherlock thinks he'll have an easy time of it, but John has his doubts. It's up to them to find out who is responsible for putting a dangerous weapon in the wrong hands, and try to keep their hands off each other at the same time.

The Real Meaning of Idioms by feverishsea (T, 21,691 w., 13 Ch. || PODFIC AVAILABLE || Texting, Humour, Post-TRF, Awkward Romance, Idiots in Love) - After two weeks away, John finally texts Sherlock. He doesn’t expect Sherlock to respond. He doesn’t expect Sherlock to keep texting him. And he really doesn’t expect things to spiral out of control so rapidly.

A Study In Auto-Signatures, Sniper Dolphins, and Sex Holidays by cwb (E, 32,689 w., 8 Ch. || Case Fic, Post S3, Evil Mary, Dev. Rel., Beach Holidays, Confused Sherlock, Friends to Lovers, Honeymoon, Epistolary, Bottomlock, First Kiss / Time, Fluff, Secret Agents, BAMF!John) – John and Mary go on their sex holiday, and Sherlock is grumpy and pining about it. Part 1 of HOT DOLPHIN SEX

A Week is Just Seven Days Isn't It? by scifigrl47 (T, 39,906 w., 4 Ch. || Humour, Friendship/Bromance, Stroppy/Bored Sherlock, Undercover/Army John, Texting, Pining-ish Sherlock, John Whump) – When John heads overseas for a week, Sherlock's forced to fend for himself. It goes about as well as anyone could have anticipated. Which is to say, very, very poorly. Don't worry, things'll be fine in just seven days.

Definitions by siennna (T, 101,528 w., 12 of ? Ch. || Dev. Rel., Pining, Fluff and Romance, First Kiss, Love Confessions, Fluff, Cuddles) – Sherlock’s journey in defining his flat mate and stumbling through the muddled world of emotion. {{This feels complete; the chapter count is listed as ? but I feel like it is done}}

#steph replies #johnlock fic recs #texting and sexting #my fic recs #Anonymous

139 notes · View notes

starlight-writes-stuff · 3 years

Text

chapter one - the note // light me up : a draco malfoy fic

a/n : hello ! this is chapter one of light me up. it is a bit short- i really want to get outside opinions on what you think ; i hope you enjoy ! seeing as i have exactly 0 followers on this here blog this story will also be posted on wattpad (where i’m known as starlight--writes) . it’s a bit easier to grow on there , but i figured theres always a chance of someone finding this fic on here and falling in love with it . anyways , if you’re seeing this , reblogs and notes are always appreciated . requests are open as well ! k , bye (:

reblogs are always appreciated ! <3

☁ ☁ ☁ ☁ ☁ ☁ ☁ ☁ ☁ ☁ ☁ ☁ ☁ ☁ ☁ ☁ ☁ ☁ ☁ ☁

Charms was your least favorite class of the day. Usually you looked forward to it, eagerly awaiting getting to sit next to your boyfriend, Cedric Diggory, but in the week that the two of you had broken up, it had been torture. You still had to sit with him- the seating was assigned that way, but now instead of kisses when you walked in and holding hands under the table, it was forced smiles and awkward greetings.

So far, you’d spent the whole class looking down at your lap, tangling your fingers together and trying to take up as little space as possible. Maybe, if you were still enough, he would just forget you were there. You made no noise, no sudden movements; essentially, acting like you didn’t even exist. However, that illusion was broken when Nearly Headless Nick has floated in through the back wall, holding a letter that he handed to Professor Flitwick. He read it over silently, then looked up and directly at you. He cleared his throat and stepped down from the pile of books he stood on, and shuffled over to you.

“Miss Y/L/N, it seems you are needed elsewhere. When you finish, please see me for the homework,” he said with a warm smile, handing you the parchment he was holding.

You smiled back- Professor Flitwick had always been nice to you- and grabbed your bag without even reading the short note; if it meant not having to be so close to Cedric, you were happy for the excuse. As you got up, you felt a gentle tug on your sleeve and your stomach flew up into your throat. Looking up, you saw Cedric smile and drop his grip on your shirt.

“When you’re done, can we talk?” he asked quietly, trying not to draw any attention to either of you. “I’d like to. I’ll wait in the library after classes.”

You couldn’t muster a vocal response- this was the most he’d said to you in a week, and from the look on his face, it seemed important. You just nodded and fled the room, trying to compose yourself before the pumpkin pastie you had eaten before Charms came back up.

Once you were in the silent, stony hallway, you took a deep breath. Everything was fine. He probably just wanted his jumper back- it was his favorite, and he’d given it to you for pajamas a while ago. You leaned your head back against the cool cobblestone of the hallway, and retrieved the note from your bag, reading it over twice before you fully comprehended the meaning.

Miss Y/LN, Excuse the interruption of your class- upon review of your marks, it seems that you will be quite alright missing a charms class and upholding your grade. The staff have deliberated the results of your try out for Slytherin House’s Quidditch Team, and we are glad to offer you the position of a back-up seeker. Please meet the current Slytherin seeker- Draco Malfoy- in the dining hall for a private practice. We hope this letter finds you well, Slytherin House Quidditch Staff

You tried to contain your excitement, but couldn’t wipe the grin off of your face as you made your way to the Dining Hall. You had mostly tried out for Quidditch as a one off thing, to get Cedric to shut up about it. You absolutely hadn’t expected to be chosen and assigned a spot, so the letter was the only bright point in your week so far. As you entered the great hall, you saw the white-blonde head you were supposed to be meeting leaned over a roll of parchment, chewing on his lower lip.

☁ ☁ ☁

Draco Malfoy was in the same year as you- the same house as well- but the two of you had never talked much. Your social circles weren’t intertwined, and besides the few classes you had with him, you didn’t run into him often. As you walked over to him, you dimly wondered if he even knew your name.

“Draco? I’m supposed to meet with you, right?” you asked, timidly. He looked up from his books to meet your eyes.

“Oh, right. Sorry, I’m trying to get this Potions work done, but…” he tapered off, shaking his head. “Anyway. Sorry- but yes, Flint asked me to meet with you. Y/N, right?”

“Right,” you said with a nod, “Yeah. And I have the answers for the Potions homework, if you want them.”

Draco gathered all his things, shoving them into his bag and asked, “Really? Oh. Wait. Aren't you in my potions class?”

You nodded, and went to fish the paper out of your book, wondering why you’d offered in the first place. You weren’t one to let others copy. “Yeah. I finished it last night, so you can look over it, if you want to,” you replied, handing him the parchment. He took the roll from your hand, giving you a half-smile.

“Thank you. I can’t seem to understand Potions, like, ever, so I appreciate it. I promise, this will only take a couple minutes; I’ll have you out on the field right after.”

You settled beside him and pulled out your Charms book- might as well finish reading the chapter while you have the time. You could hear Draco muttering the words under his breath as he scratched them down with his quill, and found that oddly endearing. Besides him being the seeker for Slytherin, and his constant feud with Harry Potter, you really didn’t know much about the tall boy sitting next to you, so that fact that you knew how he took notes seemed almost… intimate. Like something you shouldn’t know, but you did. As you pondered on this, you started to wonder what else you didn’t know about him. You referenced the general knowledge of him you’d picked up over the last six years.

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

Name- Draco Malfoy (son of Lucius and Narcissa Malfoy, who were well known in the wizard community. Kind of a dark family, though.)

Year- 6

Position- Seeker

Attributes- tall, handsome, good Quidditch player, constantly nagging at harry potter for reasons unknown, friends with Crabbe and Goyle, mumbles while taking notes. Had never had a girlfriend, to your knowledge, but had many hookups. Quiet and brooding and slightly scary. Very intimidating, and taller than you’d think. He smelled good, like citrus and musk and old parchment, and his hair looked soft. He was a pretty boy, really. Scarily pretty.

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

You were still trying to think of anything you’d heard about him, other than the general assumptions of him: good looking, but a woeful git to just about everyone, when he shut his book and slid the roll of parchment back over to you.

“Thanks, again. So you’re gunning for my spot on the team?” he asked, packing up his things. You felt your face flush, and didn’t know how to respond when he chuckled and spoke up. “I’m kidding. It’s always good to have backup players, for when we get hurt. You must’ve really impressed Flint- he was going on and on about the ‘new girl’ at practice.”

Your cheeks got hot again as the two of you walked out of the dining hall and through the passages leading out to the field. “I guess so. I really didn’t think anything would come of me trying out.”

Draco ran a hand through his hair and walked out into the courtyard. “Really? What took you so long to try out, if you don't mind me asking? We’re always looking for new talent.”

You looked up at him out of the corner of your eye, and saw that he was waiting on an answer. “Um- I really didn’t ever think about playing, honestly. Over last summer, I was dragged into a game by a couple of friends, and they told me I had a knack for it. Then Cedric wouldn’t stop bugging me about trying to join the team, so I did.”

“That’s right. Isn’t he your boyfriend?”

You felt your heart pang at his words, and gave him a tight lipped smile. “He was. We aren’t really together anymore.”

“Oh. I’m sorry, I didn't know. I’ve just seen you two around, so I assumed…” he trailed off, looking down at you with sympathetic eyes.

“It’s fine. It was pretty recent that we,” you hesitated, almost choking on the words. “It was recently that we split up. No one really knows yet, besides close friends.”

Draco nodded, pulling a key out of his pocket. He unlocked a door on the side of the castle that you didn’t even realize existed, and walked into the cramped room. It was full of Quidditch supplies- practice jerseys, brooms, and the trunk that held all the equipment. He picked it up, and you could see the muscles in his forearms flexing and shifting under his pale skin as he held the heavy trunk.

“Well, I won't tell anyone. I’m sorry, I know how that can be. Will you grab two of those?” he asked, nodding at the wall behind you. Multiple brooms were mounted on it, and you grabbed two, following him out of the room. You replayed his sentence in your head. ‘I know how that can be.’ and wondered if you had missed something. You’d never seen Draco with a girl, much less a girlfriend. But maybe he was one to keep his relationships quiet. It made things much easier when you broke up if no one knew you were dating anyone in the first place.

“Yeah. It’s been… it hasn’t been fun. But, anyway, I really tried out because of that. When I didn’t hear anything for a bit, I figured that I hadn’t made it.”

“Yeah, the review takes a long time. Snape has the whole team review tryouts, then selects certain people to start training. Just about everyone was impressed with yours, though.”

“Well that’s good, right? I mean, if I’m being trained, I assume that I made it.”

Draco smiled down at you, dropping the trunk on the grass. “Welcome to the team. Let’s see what you can do.”

☁ ☁ ☁

After a few hours of flying about Draco started packing the trunk back up, strapping the snitch back into place. The curls that had previously adorned your head had fallen limp from flying, and you were out of breath as the two of you walked back to the supply cabinet.

“I can see why Flint was so impressed. You really could take my spot, if you wanted it,” Draco said with a smile, unlocking the hidden door once more.

“I don’t think so. But thank you.”

He placed the trunk back on a shelf, and turned to you, crossing his arms. Again, you watched the muscles ripple under his skin and tried not to flush. “You really are good. Maybe not better than me, but good,” he said, and you could feel his eyes on you as you returned the brooms to their wall mountings.

“I’ve seen you play, Malfoy. If you can take the snitch out from under Cedric’s nose, then I'm not sure I'll be put to much use.”

“Oh, please. Cedric isn’t what I would call competition’” he joked, locking the door behind the two of you. “And if you were watching Cedric play, how would you know if I’m any good?” he raised an eyebrow at you, and your heart fluttered in your chest.

You’d always known Draco was good looking- it was hard not to notice that- but he was also wickedly funny, and quick witted. You felt better than you had in a week for the first time today, and you didn’t doubt that some of it had to do with the blonde boy beside you.

“Just because I was dating someone in a different house doesn’t mean I ever stopped rooting for ours. I know where my loyalties lie.”

He gave you a sweet smile, and the two of you continued walking back to the castle in comfortable silence. When you ducked back into the bustling hallways from the courtyard, Draco cleared his throat, stopping in the small alcove.

“So. Um, I think we should probably do this again. You did almost all solo flying today, but you need to feel the pressure of racing against someone as well. That’s half of being a seeker, is racing your opponent. Do you have a free period sometime this week?” he asked, and you felt your heart stir again- while you might’ve needed more training, you had a nagging feeling that it was a little more than that. The two of you had a good time, and you hadn’t seen Draco smile that much in the whole six years you’d been at Hogwarts with him.

“Sure. I have two on Thursday. Just let me know when you’re free; I’m in the common room a lot, so I should be easy to find.”

He grinned down at you, his blonde hair flopping down and over his forehead and cleared his throat. “Okay. sounds good. I’ll see you later, then?”

You nodded, and gave him a smile. “I’ll see you around.”

☁ ☁ ☁

8 notes · View notes

goldenfawnwriting · 3 years

Text

Birds Of a Feather- Part 16 Hawks Fic

Summary: Finch has been missing for over a month with no trace and Hawks is getting very nervous.

A/N: So I started writing this and had it halfway done two days ago but when I went to save it, it deleted it all so fuck me I guess lmao

Warnings: Angst, mentions of abuse, I think that's it.

It had been a month now. Finch had started wearing heavy eyeliner, foundation to cover her freckles. Menial things to try and evade the commission's dogs a little longer. She kept her wings wrapped up in bandages, telling the people she worked with at the small cafe that they had been burned badly beyond recognition and that they used to be a pinkish hued white.

When she got home every night to her much too expensive, tiny apartment, she unwrapped them, staring deadly at the fallen feathers. They were breaking off from the tight wrapping. She only threw them away, going about her usual showering and watching a bit of tv before going to bed. She had been doing alright for herself but she was going to have to go withdrawal more money soon. She sighed, she really was dreading having to do that. To go about withdrawaling money she would have to travel at least 50 to 100 miles away just to avoid tracing.

Which would just be annoying. The more she traveled the more of a chance someone would recognize her. She knew that, but she also knew she couldn't put it off for much longer.

Hawks on the other hand was pulling his hair out at the office. They wouldn't allow him to go search with the other people out looking for her. He was told to just sit still and look pretty and if anyone asked during interviews he was supposed to tell them that she was fine and just taking a break.

His mind was going off the wall. He had looked over the papers over and over and over and just couldn't find a lead no matter what. The last time she had taken money out it was in the city before she left. She must've gotten another phone, another number, cause her old phone was both missing and unresponsive. She probably turned it off and dumped it somewhere. He was at his wit's end.

"Mr. Hawks? They're asking for you in conference room three."

A petite, older woman called from his doorway. He huffed, running a hand over his face before setting the papers down on hid desk and standing from his chair. He glanced over at Finch's old desk, there was a thin settling of dust on everything and he grimaced. It had been so long. He just wanted her home.

He made his way to the conference room and knocked before entering, swinging open the door to enter. He was greeted with all the higher ups of the commission and he swallowed hard. What was going on?

"Hawks, nice of you to make it. We've missed you at the last couple meetings."

He only nodded to the man in the black suit.

"Why am I here?"

He questioned gruffly. He really didn't feel like another interview, let alone some menial publicity event.

"We have a new ping on her bank account. We want you to investigate."

Hawks snatched the papers from him violently, looking at the location and time. 4 minutes ago, about 58 miles away.

He could go now and get there in an hour. If she was moving under cover she wouldn't be flying so he could get there and still have about an hour to search before she would really be gone again. He didn't wait for them to say anything else, he took off out the window at the speed of light, pushing his wings to go as fast as he possibly could.

He made it in about 30 minutes, a new record for him. He was absolutely exhausted as he slowed down over the city it pinged from, flying around the perimeter before going inwards to look down on the sidewalks. He scanned and scanned and was upset to not come up with any brown wings strolling down main street. Not that he expected her too. As he continued looking he noticed an odd woman, looking up at him before tearing into the entrance of a store. Was she a criminal? He hummed but decided not to persue. He was here for one reason.

That's when it hit him. The bandaged appendages. He whipped around, flying back to the store and ripping the door open, searching it quickly before turning to an employee.

"Did you see a woman with bug bandaged wings?"

"U-uh she just went out the west entrance!"

He was running then, pushing through people before he spotted her again, running through the crowds away from him, trying to disappear into the people but he wouldn't allow that. He sprung up, using his wings to propel him over the crowd before coming down and grabbing her, tumbling them both to the ground.

"Let go of me!"

"Why were you running?!"

He huffed, getting her up and handcuffing her before getting them out of the crowd. He needed a more private place to talk. She thrashed, trying to get away. She knew she was screwed. He had found her and there was no way out of this. He was going to catch on to her at some point, why was she so surprised? Maybe because she thought she had disguised herself pretty well? Of course that would mean nothing to Keigo.

They entered a back alley where Hawks turned her around to face him, leaving the handcuffs on just to make sure she wouldn't run off.

"Finch?"

"W-who are you talking about?"

She tried to play dumb but she was way too nervous, fidgeting with her hands and looking off. She had never been a good liar.

"Stop playing stupid, where the hell have you been? Why did you go? Do you know how much everyone has been worrying? Asami, me, everyone at work!"

"Oh stop, I know no one at work missed me! You've probably had girls at your knees every day since I've been gone..."

He grabbed her chin and made her look at him, his thumb and index finger digging into her jaw and forcing it into an upward angle.

"Stop it Finch. I'm not kidding, where have you been. I've been killing myself trying to find you."

"I just wanted to get away..."

"Is this because I didn't say I love you back, because if thats the case-"

"That's not it! I just wanted to get away, I needed some time.."

"Ya and to stress out everyone who loves you. We thought you were dead Kore."

Her eyes were filling with tears and Hawks let his hand slip away from her jaw. Her short, choppy bob moved to veil her face as she looked down. He sighed and looked around, anywhere but her.

"What happened to you? Are you ok?"

"I'm fine..."

"What's going on with your wings?"

"Nothing, they're fine."

"Then unwrap them and let's go home, Asami has been up my ass-"

"No!"

There was a pause as he stared at her. No? He was dumbfounded. She wasn't going to come home?

"K-Keigo... I can't..."

"What do you mean?"

"C-can we go somewhere else to talk...?"

He nodded and uncuffed her, opting to grab her hand instead.

"My apartment is like sixty some miles away. Can we go there?"

She offered. He couldn't lie, he was curious about how she'd been living.

"Ya, that's fine. I'll follow you.."

He was appalled when she started walking.

"Wait- you're not gonna walk there right? Just fly..."

"I can't."

"What do you mean, you said they're fine-"

She turned, undoing the bandages to unwrap her wings. When she finally let the bandages drop his jaw went slack, his eyes wide. Her feathers slowly were falling out, molting if you will.

"It's from keeping them wrapped, almost all of them are gone. I can't fly without feathers..."

"You haven't been flying this entire time?"

He whispered. He was almost brought to tears. Her wings, once so beautiful, were so hideous now, marled and torn apart.

"No. If I flew people would see me. And I couldn't just let the colour be known, you guys have been reporting every fucking second of the day."

She growled. He reached out, his fingers nearly grazing the broken feathers before she ripped her wings away, folding them up.

"If you want to come let's go, I'm not waiting around forever."

He blinked away the shock before sighing and following her lead. He hated walking through cities. He always got wayyy too much attention.

#hawks angst #bnha hawks #hawksbnha #wing hero hawks #mha hawks #keigo takami #takami keigo

6 notes · View notes

makeusfreefromthisfandom · 4 years

Text

First of all i want to give a shout out to @ayumiko for letting me use her amazing gifs in my writing! I mean just look at them! Be sure to go check out her stuff <3 (the middle gif’s credit goes to @atticwraith)

Overlooked | Ikuya Kirishima x Reader

Anon asked: Hi! Can I request an Ikuya x reader? Maybe a reader who’s really outgoing and stuff, kind of like the total opposite of him. At first he’s kind of annoyed by them, but then he slowly warms up and actually misses them when they’re out sick from school. He goes and visits and things go from there! As a fic writer myself, I thank you so much for providing for fandoms! You’re doing amazing.

A/n: sorry if the ending is a bit tacky, I didn’t know exactly how to end it off

Genre: a bit angsty? fluff at the end

Word count: ~2k this ones a bit long

“Catch up with you guys later ok?” You waved your teammates goodbye as soon as you had spotted a familiar head of deep sea green hair.

“Hey Ikuya!” He turned around and was met with your big smile, nodding in response. You quickly made your way over to him before noticing a third party.

“Oh, hello to you too Hiyori.” Your smile was returned with a little wave of his own. Teeth clenched, because we know he’s internally screaming

“First name basis huh?” Hiyori asked tartly, however a smile still present on his features.

“No need to be so uptight! We’ve all been given a name for a reason, so we can be called by it! By the way we’ve all been acquainted long enough.” You nudged Hiyori slightly in return, glancing at Ikuya, who just cared about making it to class on time. “Which is why I’m constantly telling you two to also call me (f/n)!”

“Hmmm.” Hiyori gave you a closed eyed smile before picking up the pace to catch up with his friend. I’m telling’ ya, internal screaming.

“Hey you two! Wait up!”

Students shuffled into the classroom, you took your usual seat next to Ikuya. You were taking notes when something had caught your eye. “Woah! You’re a really good artist Ikuya!” You leaned in next to him, pointing at the little doodles on the edge of his paper. Instinctively, the boy grabbed his notebook, blocking it from your view.

“T-They’re nothing.” He stated simply and went back to writing, this time with a protective arm shielding his work.

“...you could just take the compliment you know..” you muttered looking away. You felt a tap on your shoulder, making your eyes light up, only to find that it was just another classmate asking for help. You sighed and leaned over behind Ikuya to try and explain the problem.

The bell rang not too soon after. You and Ikuya began gathering your things, fingers brushing slightly in the process. You had managed to stumble out a sorry, but found that the boy was already halfway out the door; oblivious to you, with a small dust of pink hinted on his cheeks.

The next few days were the same, school work, friends, volleyball (yes you play volleyball k? I was watching haikyuu. I couldn’t help it), more volleyball, and failed attempts at a conversation with Ikuya.

“Hey Ikuya! Check it out! There’s a new cafe that’s opened nearby, some friends and I are gonna go check it out, you wanna come?”

“No, sorry I’ve got plans.”

Each day made your heart sink even more, along with the pile of stress, schoolwork and volleyball weighing on your shoulders. Nevertheless, you put on the same bright smile, known to everyone around you, and kept on.

“(L/n)?” Your face lit up at the sound of the familiar voice to your right, “...my eraser rolled over, can you reach it?”

“Huh? Yeah sure!” You gave him a smile and bent down, holding your hand out slightly before something struck you.

Why? Why do I feel like I need his attention? Why am I so pathetic? The realization was like a stab, penetrating deeper and deeper.

“(L/n)?.....(l/n)?....are you okay?”

You broke out of your trance and reached for the eraser, “S-sorry.” You placed the eraser in Ikuya’s hand, who was now looking at you with slight concern. You were silent after that, paying mind to your own work, failing to notice the boy next to you glance at you with worry.

The rest of the day consisted of you dwelling in your own thoughts, ignoring the calls of your friends and teammates. Skipping practice, you went straight home and sprawled out on your bed. Picking up your nearby volleyball, spreading your fingers into a setting position, you began gently tossing the ball up and down with hundreds of thoughts beginning to cloud your brain. Ikuya was never one to hide his annoyance, you knew that. But maybe you did talk too much, and maybe some of your friendships were forced. Were you trying too hard? Were people, unlike Ikuya, hiding their annoyance? Your insecurities that you thought you had left long behind, came flooding back. You shut your eyes tightly, thinking that would make the thoughts go away, as you drifted off into a deep sleep.

You woke up to the sound of your alarm pounding at your head, and made your way to the bathroom. Leaning over the sink, you took a good look at yourself in the mirror. The thoughts of last night still swirling in your head, making it feel like it was going to explode. Suddenly you felt something rise at the back of your throat, as you scrambled towards the the toilet and let it all out. The throbbing sensation on your right side became more prominent, the lights around you making it worse.

A couple of hours later, you thought you had heard your phone ring. Quite a few times actually. Great to know people care about me, you thought sarcastically. You decided to stay home with all the lights off and the blinds tightly shut, every movement or thought pulsating your head further. You couldn’t remember exactly when, but you had eventually passed out on the couch, failing to hear the sound of your front door opening.

“(L/n)?....” Ikuya had suspected something was up with you these past couple of days. Although the facade you had built around you might have fooled another, you had been around to constantly bug, not that he really minded deep down, for Ikuya to realize you were acting different.

“(L/n)!” Ikuya panicked, his eyes adjusting to the dark space, to catch a glimpse of a limp silhouette passed out on the couch. He quickly came to your side, checking to make sure you were okay.

H-huh? You slowly began to wake to a hovering dark figure with amber eyes looking over you in concern. Ikuya?

Ikuya quickly backed away, face flushed and glad it was dark, once he had realized you were awake. You however, took a moment to just stare at him, headache or whatever forgotten.

Am I hallucinating? Why is Ikuya here?

“....you weren’t at school and your friends were saying how you weren’t answering any of their calls....you’ve been acting weird for the past couple of days....so I came to check on you...” Even in the dark, you could see the glimmer of his cat-like eyes.

Wait? He noticed?

“I also brought you the notes you all the notes and assignments you missed...your captain was pretty pissed off too...” He moved forward, hesitantly resting his hand on your forehead before moving to his bag to take out his notebook and some other papers. “You don’t feel all that warm...are you sure you’re not just skipping?”

Has he always been this talkative?

He stopped and turned expectantly, waiting for your reply. Before you could even think about opening your mouth, another surge of pain made its way, with you clenching the right side of your head in pain.

“M-migraine...” you managed to barely get out. Instantly, Ikuya was at your side, crouched down, back facing towards you.

“We should probably get you somewhere you can actually relax first.” He kept his pink-tinted face forward, waiting for you to climb onto his back, which you did without complaints. You warily pointed a finger in the direction of your bedroom, as he slowly made his way and rested you gently on the bed, before awkwardly standing off to the side. You pointed with your eyes, still in pain, to the edge of your mattress. After a few minutes of silence, you began to make sense of your situation.

“Why’d you come here Ikuya....?” You propped yourself against your pillows, head hung low to hide the blush creeping up your neck and cheeks.

Ikuya was silent for a bit before whispering ever so slightly, “You were more quiet than usual for the past week....I got worried....”

You were barely able to catch the last part as your eyes widened, before lowering back your gaze. “Shouldn’t you be relieved though? I’m not being annoying or a nuisance to you...”

Ikuya’s head shot up as he suddenly lunged towards you. “I don’t-,” before composing himself, “I don’t think you’re annoying...I actually like when you talk to me...” again, the last part barely above a whisper.

“Ikuya...” Another tinge pain shot up throughout the side of your head, as you let out a small whimper.

“D-do you need some medicine?! Where’s your cabinet?!” You let out a giggle, before it turned into full blown laughter, headache completely forgotten. Ikuya looked at you confused while you wiped the corners of your eyes. There was something about your disheveled, humorous state, that made Ikuya feel a complexity of emotions suddenly stir inside of him. Soon, and he had no idea why, he started to laugh along with you. You paused and took in his image, the feelings in your own heart becoming more evident.

“....here I was thinking you hated my guts...” you murmured softly, shaking your head, but then instantly regretting it. “But, I already took some medicine not too long ago.” You paused again, but this time more seriously. Despite the painful state you were currently in, you still couldn’t ignore the gut feeling in your stomach.

“Ikuya...you are aware right?” Ikuya was now also looking directly at you. “...aware how I feel about you...” He froze, wide-eyed and eyebrows raised. He could no longer deny the growing feeling in his heart either. He blushed and looked away,

“...I feel the same way about you too (f/n)...for a while now...”

He said it softly, but you were just able to catch the last part as your eyes were now bulging out of your sockets. He caught a glimpse of your expression before suddenly backing away, as if he had said something wrong.

“W-what is it! W-why are you looking at me like that.”

“That’s the first....first time you ever called me by my first name...”

And for a while now? Maybe you really were oblivious.

By the look on his face, he had just realized this as well, but crossed his arms anyways, avoiding eye contact.

“It is your name you know...of course I would call you by it...” Your body moved before you had time to process what you were doing, and soon your cool hands met warm, as Ikuya gently sat back down, face now red, but still avoiding your gaze. Just as you were about to say something, a familiar sensation danced it’s way back, as you squeezed your eyes shut, removing your hands from Ikuya’s to clutch onto your head.

“Here lie down...” you obeyed, bracing for the next wave of pain, only to be met with slender fingers running through your locks, massaging in place once they had found their destination. You relaxed under Ikuya’s touch, eyelids becoming heavy.

Ikuya smiled to himself, scooting closer and watching your brows slowly unknit, as you drifted off into a peaceful slumber. ~

#ikuya kirishima #ikuya kirishima x reader #ikuya x reader #ikuya kirishima one shot #free!#free! ikuya #free! imagines #free! x reader #free! scenarios #free! one shots #free! iwatobi swim club #free! dive to the future

97 notes · View notes

ushiwakaa · 4 years

Text

𝐈 𝐇𝐎𝐏𝐄 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐑𝐄𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐒𝐈𝐃𝐄𝐑.

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: you’re a mangaka who draws from your own experiences to write your stories. your new editor disapproves this method.

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: akaashi keiji x reader

𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞: angst, hanahaki au

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠: suicidal thoughts/ideation, blood, vomit, major character death

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 2.2 k

𝐚/𝐧: this was written for the cheese cult’s hanahaki fic event !! djnfjdngjnjfnjnjngjn this took me so , so , so long to write because every version i wrote ended up hitting the same brick wall of unimaginable angst and believe it or not, this is probably the happiest version. i was supposed to post this two whole as days ago but hey , at least it happened

From over the cover of the fairytale he reads, the young boy boy peers at you with soft sage eyes — checking to see if you’re still awake. You are, but you’re careful to keep your eyes closed, face buried into the blanket.

“The end,” the young boy finishes softly, closing his book.

He gingerly places the book to the side before sliding in next to you under the covers. You can feel his eyes on you for another moment before he takes a deep breath — there’s a secret, a confession, something on the tip of his tongue.

You never hear it.

You wake up with a start, a cough half-way up your throat. You cough and cough and cough until the first bud breaks air, tickling the back of your throat. You reach your fingers into your mouth and pull.

Bitterly, you stare at the withering bouquet in your hands.

The flowers are wet with your saliva — only a hint of blood coating the white of the petals.

When you went to the doctor about it, she said you were lucky. She said that your flowers were so small, you could go your entire life with an unrequited love and they would leave your respiratory system alone. She also added, no doctor in their right mind would perform a removal surgery on a person who was more likely to die on the table, then by their illness.

While cultivating roses would be painful, at least it would be a quick death.

Like every other day, you toss out the pathetic string of baby’s breath in the garbage bin as you head into the washroom to wash out your mouth.

You get off of the train at a quarter to ten — thankfully on time for your meeting.

Kaori gives a friendly smile when you enter her office. Even behind her desk, you can see her burgeoning belly. Despite pushing eight months into her pregnancy, she beams. In her smile, she wears the name brand brightness that they all share — the people with a requited love, that is. The lucky ones whose flowers weren’t fed with misery and tears.

You try your best not to resent her but your jealousy bleeds when you sit in the glossy, apple green chair.

“How are you?” Kaori asks, her gentle eyes watching you.

You give a vague shrug, a small smile. “Sad that this is it.”

She’s pleased by this answer, giving a laugh. It reminds you of blue bells rustling in the wind. “I’ll be back and ready to work on your next series before you know it.”

You give an empty chuckle.

There’s a knock at the door and you both look. A man stands in the doorway — staring at Kaori dryly. His plain neutrals are out of place in her bright office but her brightness doesn’t flicker as she waves him in. You play with the sleeve of your severely drab cotton blouse as you wonder if that’s how you look here.

“Akaashi! Glad you could make it.”

He gives a slight bow to Kaori first, then you. You stop fiddling with your sleeve and return the bow while seated. He takes a seat in the chair opposite to you (Kaori dubbed it the pineapple throne after its piss yellow hue). He’s too tall for it. It’s almost comical. You might write that in for one of your characters.

“(Y/N), this is Akaashi Keiji. Akaashi, this is (L/N) (Y/N).” She turns to you. “He will be taking over as your editor for the last volume while I’m on maternity leave.”

You look over at him — “Akaashi… Keiji?”

At an arm's length, you can see the gentle slope of his nose and the delicate curl of the eyelashes that frame the muted green of his eyes. There’s something that’s strangely familiar about him but you can’t put your finger on it. You know him. You don’t know how, but you do.

“I look forward to working with you.”

You smile, but at the back of your throat, you can feel a familiar itch beginning to grow.

Despite the connection your body draws to him, Akaashi doesn’t show any recognition in return.

He taps his pen lightly on the paper. “What’s going on here? What’s your plan for this girl?”

You peer over the desk to look at the character on trial — the panel shows the short haired girl spewing forget-me-nots into the trash bin. Immediately, you frown. It’s annoying that he doesn’t know her name. She is literally one of three main characters.

“Konoka?” You settle back into your seat. “She’s going to die.”

He looks up at you. “I gathered that much, but why?”

If the robot says it, it really must not make sense but then again, you doubt he even understood the nuances of the series if he couldn’t even remember Konoka’s name. “Because she has Hanahaki Disease.”

“Okay, but —” if you hadn’t been growing annoyed by his flat tone, you might’ve swooned at the softness, “forget-me-nots are small. She couldn’t possibly die of Hanahaki.”

“That’s why she kills herself.”

He’s silent for a moment, calculating his next words. “...You realize that she’s one of your most beloved characters, right? Your readers don’t want to see her die like that.”

“This is the trajectory the story has been on since she and Tanaka met again.” Your tone is more charged than you intend, but you can’t help but defend Konoka’s decision fiercely. “She has to commit suicide. It’s the only way she can move on.”

“Yes, but Kanoka—”

Pointedly, you cut him off, “Thank you for your opinion but I refuse to compromise on that.”

He purses his lips. “I sincerely ask you to reconsider.”

“I will not compromise my artistic integrity for your comfort.”

“Killing characters off isn’t profound. It isn’t always necessary.”

“In this case, it is.” Your cheeks burn red as you stand up for yourself — this fight is on a personal level. “I’m not killing her for shock value. I’m killing her because every night, Konoka dreams about Tanaka, and everyday, she wakes up and throws up flowers because she knows he doesn’t love her back. I’m killing her because there’s no one else for her. I’m killing her because the flowers won’t and that — that’s more painful.”

The silence in the aftermath of your rant is deafening. He says nothing to you for another moment, staring into the smoulder of your eyes with a calculating stare. It might be a mistake to appeal to the emotional aspect of it — after all, you sort of doubt he has any at this point — but, at the root of it, that’s what it is: an emotional problem.

“Fine,” he says. “You still have to redo this panel, though.”

Your mouth burns with a minty tang as you walk back into your room — drawn over by the buzzing sound of your ringer. Looking at the caller I.D., you have half a mind to throw it across the room and get back under the covers.

But, with all the professionalism you can muster at nine in the morning, you say, “Hello?”

“Are you finished with the second draft?” Akaashi’s flat drawl reverbs through the speaker.

You resist the urge to sigh. “Yes.”

“Can you come by the office to drop it off?”

“Today?” You scratch absently at your collarbone. “Uh… I can swing by tomorrow, but if you really need it today — you can pick it up from my apartment?”

There’s silence on the other line — likely weighing the pros and cons. In the weeks you’ve worked under him, you’ve noticed that he does nothing without proper evaluation.

“Is three o’clock alright?”

You’re in the middle of vacuuming when a knock at the door interrupts you. While you’re expecting it, you’re not any less annoyed. You open the door with a tight smile, manuscript already in hand. Akaashi gives a monotone greeting in his monotone clothes with his monotone face.

“Hello. May I use your washroom?”

You give a sigh as you open the door wider. “The door on the left.”

He enters your apartment, neatly putting his shoes by the door. You toss the manuscript back on the counter. You meant to send him on his way, but, because he’s already here, you put on a kettle to boil.

“I sincerely hope you reconsider your plans.”

You turn around at the comment, looking at your editor with a raised brow. “I’m still killing Konoka.”

He’s a different person when you look at him. For once, there’s something behind his eyes — a sharpness to his gaze. That feeling returns — the one that sees flowers tickling at your trachea.

Gravely, he repeats. “I sincerely hope you reconsider your plans.”

He must’ve seen your garbage bin. You feel ready to throw something else up now.

“Tell me about them,” Akaashi says.

“About who?”

“Whoever it is you’re willing to die for.”

“I…” You feel faint as you rub at your clavicle. “I don’t think you want to hear this.”

“That’s why I asked, isn’t it?”

So you do.

You swallow your pride as you tell him about the little boy you once knew. You tell him about the summer you didn’t leave each other’s side and how one day, while you were camping, you woke up next to him and he was coughing petals and buds and thorns. When his parents took him to the hospital, he never came back and you didn’t get to ask any questions before they moved away.

You tell him that you started dying that day. That the doctors told your parents that the surgery was too risky for your age. That when you came back a few years later, they told you that it was still too risky when the chances of your death were slim. Some days are better than most, you tell him, but because you never stop thinking about him, you’ll never get better.

It’s the same story that you are writing.

Akaashi looks at you for a solemn moment, watching you with incredible disbelief. He’s going to call you an over-dramatic idiot for wanting to die over a childhood crush. If it wasn’t your reality, you’d agree with him too. What a stupid reason to die.

But then, he coughs. When he moves his hands from his mouth, both your stomachs drop while you stare in horror at the soft petal, sopping wet with his blood.

His eyes widen the same time yours do. Immediately, the phone is in your hand, calling an ambulance.

He thinks he’s dying.

This feeling now, and the feeling from back then... They’re one in the same.

That night, you fell asleep facing him. Your button nose and dark lashes were illuminated by the glow created by his flashlight. It wasn’t until he peered over the cover of the book, he realized that you were knocked out cold.

“You’re so pretty,” he wanted to say.

Instead, a coughing fit seized him, which woke you in turn. He’d been complaining about a dry throat recently, so you disappeared to get him a water from the coolers outside of the tent.

When you came back, the sleeping bag was littered with bloodied petals. The chilled bottle hit the floor as you gave a blood-curdling scream.

This time, when Akaashi wakes up in the hospital, he’s already coughing. In rapid succession, four blood-soaked petals of varying sizes, the round bud they were plucked from, and two thorns spew from his mouth. He looks at you, startled, more emotion than you’ve ever seen him exhibit.

Your eyes are red rimmed and swollen.

Gently, you pick up the debris littering his lap and toss it into the garbage beside you. The thorns fall through the maze of baby’s breath you had also coughed up and hit the bottom of the bin with a dull thud.

"Keiji?” you sniffle, your voice soft. “How do you feel?”

“Not good,” he answers. Akaashi chuckles but you can see the blood dribble from his mouth. You wipe at his chapped lips with a tissue.

“The doctor said to call him when you woke up. Let me just —” You feel dizzy as you stand, maybe a touch overwhelmed. “I’m going to go get him.”

There’s a minuscule tug at your hand. When you look down at Akaashi, he’s watching you. His eyes are still a faint shade of green, but there’s a new shine behind them.

“Can I tell you something first?” You hesitate for a second. Then, you nod. “I hope you reconsider your decision.” In the chaos of the past few hours, you had forgotten the matter that brought you here. “I want Konoka to choose herself over Tanaka. Even if she coughs up flowers everyday... I want her to live.”

You take Akaashi’s hand — large, smooth, and cold — in yours. “I can do that.”

“I know that it hurts, but she needs to know that means she’s alive.” You squeeze lightly as his words resonate within you. “I haven’t felt pain in a decade. But, that means I haven’t felt anything. Right now?” He gives you a small smile. “I’m more alive than I’ve ever been.”

Gently letting go of him, you say, “I’ll get you the doctor.”

You wince when he coughs again — loud and wet. A confession in this final hour won’t do anything. The withered flowers have to come out somehow.

Still, “I love you,” you try.

He smiles weakly back at you. “I love you too.”

𝐜𝐡𝐞𝐞𝐬𝐞 𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭: @akaashichigo @drainedjaz @haikkeiji @annalyn-annalyn @mlkytobio @sosugasweet @cali-writes-sometimes @simping4ratsumu @shishinoya @from-left-to-write @akaashit-baeji @kxgeyamasmilk @agaassi @hanibuni @cupofkenma @kawanisshi @milk-n-writings @thiccbokuto @shinsukestan @sufiawrites @wakaitoshi @skyguy-peach @fern-writes-ig @briswriting @kawaiikraykray @bubbleteaa @miyuswriting @raevaioli @ouikarwa @hakueishirei @pineapplekween @estherwritess @keiji-n @achoohq @badlywritten-hq @mochibeaa @oinkanna @chxrry-wxne @spudicide @airybby @asranomical @karmasuna

#akaashi x reader #akaashi keiji x reader #akaashi x you #haikyuu fanfiction #cheesecultficevent #hanahacheese #akaashi keiji #tw suicidal thought #tw suicidal ideation #tw major character death #tw blood #tw vomit #writing

124 notes · View notes

saladejin · 4 years

Text

Call An Uber? | 01

BTS x Reader | idolverse au, uber driver!Reader, translator!Reader | Fluff, flirting, super slow burn, angst and hurt/comfort, mature themes and eventual smut

Summary: Your normal life with a normal, yet inconsistent job gets drastically changed when your dreams come true. Sounds boring right?

What happens when all of this occurs, but you’re still doing something you love AND getting a large sum for it? Now there’s something to think about, and it’s definitely not what you’re thinking.

Warnings: Mild swearing, hysterical fan behaviour

Word Count: 7.1k (Chapter 1 is longer than usual)

A/N: Okay, so in my next phase of finally crossposting my works to tumblr, I’m adding this massive multi-chapter fic.

I began this slow-burner (emphasis on slow-burn) a couple of years ago, so it’s easy to see how my writing has changed and evolved throughout.

Basically, I wanted to imagine what it would be like to have one of those ‘chance encounters’ every fan has thought of at least once. Thus, this fic was born, and though it is full of coincidences and wishful thinking, I always try to work realistically to make it enjoyable (and not as foolish as the premise makes it sound).

I hope you enjoy the ride, and feel free to check out the rest on my Ao3 in the meantime while I try my best to transfer everything in an orderly fashion! <3

»»————- << masterpost | next >>　————-««

Reader 1st person POV

Imagine being asked to remember the most boring day of your whole existence. If you're anything like me, then it's a bit hard to recall...but for once I was certain.

Today was that day.

Or it was, until something outrageous happened. Something so unprecedented and so unbelievable that I struggle to recall it at all.

I suppose I'll give it my best shot anyway.

A clear and uneventful morning leading straight into the annoyingly peaceful afternoon, and I had still only picked up and dropped off a measly number of people. Yes, being an Uber driver had its ups and downs, and I had been one for about a year and a half already. It paid decently enough most of the time, and the job just worked hand-in-hand with the flashy new car leaving a gaping hole in my bank account.

Despite all these alleged perks, today had been an obviously gruelling exception.

The lack of activity could be blamed on a number of scenarios, for instance a public holiday or event stirring attention somewhere else. Whatever it was, it was decreasing the number of customers in this usually bustling city of Seoul much to my dismay. I needed good cash, and I’d been working my ass off lately in order to get exactly that. Even closing myself off to social media and other forms of communication with friends helped me focus solely on working nowadays.

I need a real job…

Then suddenly, even as cliché as it sounds, God decided to answer all of my prayers. A loud ding emitted from my phone and I almost veered off the road in sheer astonishment.

“Thank the Lord!” I pulled up quickly onto the curb and examined the Uber request, almost questioning if I had imagined the whole thing out of desperation.

The name read ‘J’. Literally just the letter, boldly sitting in the middle of my screen. I raised an eyebrow, and normally would have considered declining the request if it seemed too prank-worthy, but I needed this job. I didn’t think the person had even registered or used the service before, as there wasn’t a clear rating to be seen anywhere. Once again...I needed this job.

The pinpoint appeared nearby, and luckily it was only about a five-minute drive to reach the destination. It was located just outside a large shopping mall in central Seoul, and even though this was a seemingly quiet day, it shouldn’t have been this empty. There were of course a few groups of people and individual shoppers wandering about, in and out of the entrance looking for easy buys. Even so, I knew this place to be quite popular and to say I was astounded would be an understatement.

There must be something going on in the city somewhere.

Making a grab for my phone about three minutes after looking around for ‘J’, I considered sending him or her a text to ask where they were. The place was basically empty, so spotting someone on the lookout for their ride shouldn’t have been too difficult.

“They mustn’t be out yet.” I clucked quietly to myself, typing out a message to indicate I had arrived.

The gentle hum of my engine was the only sound accompanying me as I waited. After another thirty seconds, I received a short reply of “there soon”. I glanced at the simple words a second time before lightly scoffing.

“Okay ‘J’, I’m in no rush.”

Still amused over the less than eloquent reply, I leant back into my comfortable leather seat and hummed to myself to pass some time. I would’ve usually had the radio going, but for now I wasn’t really in the mood for any background distractions. I liked silence when it was comfortable, and especially in a place such as this shopping mall, it was rare to come by.

The reverie was soon shattered when faint sounds of various screams erupted from somewhere in the distance, and I instantly jerked my head up with squinted eyes to observe the area. Tinted car windows revealed just enough of the area to discern an overall lack of movement.

The paved courtyard outside the mall wasn’t occupied by a single human being, which was even stranger than before. The only moving things I could eventually see where a couple of dirtied napkins being thrown around in the slight breeze, and a ripped paper cup from a popular juice bar rolling around caught in the same fate.

The frantic screaming continued. Should I be worried? The shouting wasn’t in terror or anger, that much I was sure of. I usually would pin it on some brawl breaking out nearby, but these sounds where mostly female when I listened closer. In any sense, it definitely sounded extreme.

I wondered briefly if there was some massive sale happening at a famous clothes brand down the street, causing a flurry of panic within female shoppers. The anticipation from the sounds caused me to tap my fingers on the steering wheel in curiosity.

Then it happened. An enormous group of Korean women and probably a few men, some looking fairly young, flocked around the corner of a building in an intense hurry.

Was the sale here or something??

My eyes widened in shock, as the group only seemed to be growing in numbers. Many were holding their phones out, as if recording something, and I scanned the rapidly moving crowd with anxious eyes to spot the source of the commotion.

Two well-dressed men seemed to be caught in the centre of it all. The pair that stemmed this chaotic crowd were clad from head to toe in designer clothes, including darkly coloured masks and sunglasses, not to mention the hoods covering their heads. The shorter of the two donned a lighter colour palette through a milky white button-up, while the other was dressed in a charcoal black hoodie and black ripped jeans.

They appeared to be trying to escape the bundling mass of people, as they moved quickly and swiftly ahead of the horde in their haste. I gripped the wheel in surprise. The screams where deafening and I could feel them grating my nerves. I hoped my client would not be caught in this mess. I wanted out, and I wanted out as soon as possible.

Maybe they’re famous, maybe idols?

A small excitement sparked at that thought, but I was still daunted by the scene playing out in front of me. If they were idols, I felt incredibly sorry for them. This was a clear breach of privacy and personal space, and they didn’t deserve it at all. This was the reason for hatred against K-pop fandoms all around the world.

“Who do they think they are?” I found myself muttering, eyebrows furrowing in disappointment.

Suddenly, the more brightly dressed man glanced around and pointed directly at my car, turning to his well-built friend to shout something following a flurry of gestures. I stiffened and my breath hitched when both started sprinting towards me, their fans following desperately to try and at least touch them.

Oh no.

My breathing sped up and the situation finally dawned on me. The empty mall, the shady name and blunt text response. The timing…

I unlocked all my doors and gripped the wheel harder, if that was even possible. The mass of people followed the two guys as they drew closer to my car, and I prayed to God that they didn’t leave any scratches or dents by the time I was gone. The one that acknowledged me first reached the car, and I jumped slightly when he opened the passenger door and clambered in swiftly. The other darkly dressed one threw himself in the backseat next and I jumped again when both doors slammed shut simultaneously.

“Hello!” The first guy cleared his throat from where he sat next to me and I could see he was bouncing his knee in apprehension, obviously wanting to scoot the fuck out of there, but still trying to be polite towards me. His breathing was shallow, and I could see large beads of sweat rolling down the side of his half-hidden face. I was in no mood to sit around and ponder about him.

“To hell with this!” I exclaimed with a squeak, and the second after the passenger door closed I shifted the gearstick and floored the pedal. Making sure that no people were in my way before skidding slightly around the pick-up bend. Only the sound of one singular hand slapping the boot of my car made me wince, but I was glad there was no other physical contact on my precious red Hyundai.

Only the sound of laboured breathing could be heard amongst sighs of relief as we pulled away from the mall. I looked into the rear-view mirror to see some people giving a hearty chase down the road, but most of the fans had broken away and were just waving towards my car as we rolled down the street.

Adrenaline was pumping through my veins, and I could feel a small smile resting on my face at the thought of escaping something like that. What a turn of events for this tedious day! A muffled gasp caught my attention and I looked into my mirror again to see the darkly dressed guy’s eyes screwed shut as he laughed breathlessly, one hand slapping his knee. His friend was just leaning his head back against the headrest as he gulped in large breaths of oxygen through his plump lips. They had both pulled down their masks and lifted their shaded glasses to catch their breaths, but the sight caused my own eyes to widen dangerously.

Holy shit on a stick, Park Jimin and Jeon Jungkook are sitting in my car. What in the ever-loving…

My breathing hitched at the realisation, but I continued to drive steadily. The thing I needed to focus on most of all was getting away from the crazy population of the city. I knew internally I was freaking out a little at the thought of members of my favourite boyband sitting in my own car, but I kept it under wraps knowing they would definitely not appreciate another bout of whatever that shemozzle was before.

I guess nothing goes unnoticed when you’re that famous. Why the hell were they alone?

Jungkook stopped laughing as he looked at my wide-eyed and slightly terrified expression. He suddenly grew apologetic due to his unexplained laughing.

“Sorry, uh, just how you drove off… sorry.” His voice died down as he gradually started to regain his composure, and I watched a shy demeanour suddenly take over his form, as if he had been hit with a realisation of overstepping his bounds. Jimin just turned and glanced pointedly at him, and then back at me to search wearily for a response.

“No it’s fine, I’m just a tad shaken,” I huffed out an exasperated breath, amusement showing on my features at the maknae’s sudden behaviour change. The idol next to me cleared his throat as I turned another corner, luckily no traffic barred my way and I was easily able to fly down the main road.

“We’re very sorry for what happened back there, that was probably quite troublesome for you. We apologise for the inconvenience.”

“Seriously don’t worry. You guys definitely needed an escape from…that. I’m glad to help, honestly.” I smiled to ease any worry radiating from the two flustered boys. “J, right?”

I glanced upwards into the mirror to lock eyes with Jungkook, not missing the way Jimin tried to conceal a smirk from the younger member. “Ah, he’s not that creative with names it seems.”

The older boy’s melodic speaking voice caused my lips to part in an involuntary breath of awe. I had always loved Park Jimin’s voice, whether it be singing or speaking or doing literally anything. Jungkook’s amused exhale and gentle chuckle also made me quite soft.

“Ah, sorry about my rude message too.” He looked downwards and bowed slightly. I noticed how politely he spoke and my insides turned to jelly once again. I felt warm and fluffy from their pleasant mannerisms.

“Don’t worry guys, how could I expect an essay when you were running for your lives?”

The two boys couldn’t contain their amused smiles as they exchanged another glance, seemingly conflicted. I could tell they didn’t know quite what to do with themselves in this situation, as they surely seldom had to get rides from anyone else other than their own personal drivers. I saw Jimin’s brows crease in concentration next to me, as if he was trying to figure out how to maintain his sense of professionalism. His hands fidgeted with the hem of his shirt anxiously.

“You guys may want to start with an explanation, if that’s alright?” I decided to help them out a small bit. If I could establish a comfortable atmosphere here, it would be much easier to converse and work out what to do.

“I notice that you put the next street over as your destination, but I’m fairly sure you’d both want to go further than that.” I made my point with a raised eyebrow and gestured to my phone sitting on the dashboard, destination showing clearly across the bottom of the screen.

Jimin clicked his tongue and leant in to read my phone more clearly. My skin tingles at his closer proximity.

“Seriously Jungkookie, any other place would’ve been better,” he eventually spoke, and although his tone was whiny with complaint, I could see the traces of a smile dancing across his features. He was obviously trying his best to remain stern.

“Ah, sorry hyung. I didn’t have all that much time in this case, did you forget?”

The cheek of this boy.

Jimin turned around and pointed at the younger boy while failing to hold back a giggle.

“Oi, show some respect you brat.”

Jungkook was snickering to himself, and I couldn’t help the smirk from tugging at my lips involuntarily. The group these guys came from always had this certain dynamic of playful teasing that won over so many fans. I included myself in that list honestly, as I always managed to have a good laugh watching their energetic interactions. It made me feel so youthful, as though an inner child would come out to play even though I was still adolescent at the age of 22.

They were fine joking around with themselves for a bit, but I could tell they were still very conscious of me and my presence in the car. They stopped chuckling and Jungkook cleared his throat noticeably in the back, silently handing over the responsibility of the situation to his elder.

“Um, sorry about that as well,” Jimin began to launch into a heartfelt apology, his bouncy blonde hair lowering with his head in a meaningful bow. I stopped him softly with a smile and made steady eye contact for a couple of seconds. His oak-brown eyes were confused, and I knew he was trying his best to deal with the situation properly. Just as his leader would.

“It’s fine, no more apologies please,” I requested warmly, easing the tension as he leant backwards in his seat to relax.

“I just want to know how you both ended up there, if you don’t mind sharing that is. Also feel free to give me somewhere to drop you both off.”

Jimin glanced over at me once more as if calculating my chances of being a threat. I made sure to keep my expression calm and clear while focusing on the empty road in front of me.

“Do you know us?” the sudden question from behind caused Jimin’s head to snap backwards, and my heartbeat to speed up incredibly. It wasn’t an accusing tone Jungkook used, but more on the curious side. Jimin still showed slight disapproval before turning his gaze back to me, a newfound curiosity also flashing across his features. It seemed he became a little shy after the topic of their fame rolled around, but I could tell he still wanted to know pretty badly.

“I’d consider myself a pretty big fan, not insane but you get what I mean,” I managed to force out, swallowing the lump in my throat at the thought of explaining my admiration for them.

They were literally sitting in my car and I never thought I would be shy, but here I was with an embarrassed blush alighting across my face. Jimin widened his eyes next to me, his mouth parting slightly in his shock. Jungkook inhaled a sharp breath before letting out another hearty chuckle.

“Wow! I never would have known.”

“Neither, I guess you must not be as emotional as many ARMY are when they see us,” Jimin smiled at the thought, and it was easy to say he didn’t mean anything bad by the comment.

“I’m just here to do my job. I’m not usually one to express my emotions that intensely, but I’ll let you both know that you’ve made my entire day.”

I saw Jimin turn his radiant smile towards me with an abashed sound falling from his lips. “Thank you, you’ve done so much for us already. Thank you for rescuing us.”

I saw him throw a questioning glance at Jungkook, who in turn squinted his doe-like eyes in confusion.

“It’s (Y/n). You can use honorifics if you want, but I don’t care much for them,” I explained softly, easing his sudden bout of guilt for not even knowing my name.

“Ah, thanks once again (Y/n)-ssi.”

Both of the boys were nervous, as they had just learned that I was a fan and were probably expecting me to flip out on them at any given moment. I knew Jungkook was shy around girls especially, but even he was kind of uncharacteristically silent in the back.

“Don’t worry, I’m not going to freak out on you,” I assured them, keeping my eyes fixated on the road with a mostly amused expression. “I’m curious as to why you guys were alone with no protection out there. That usually doesn’t seem to happen.”

“No, definitely not,” Jimin sighed and I heard Jungkook hum in agreement.

“We didn’t mean to get separated from the others, we were all meant to just be shopping,” Jungkook huffed, and I could tell the young man was still shaken from his escapade from the mall. His large dark eyes were still slightly widened from the adrenaline spike.

“Yeah, everyone was together, and then we weren’t. Then the fans appeared and all we could do was run. Jungkook had to download Uber and make an account and everything on the spot. Lucky you were there because our drivers weren’t going to be around until a few more hours,” Jimin provided, his voice rough and raspy with weariness and relief. I could tell the shorter member was finally beginning to relax in the presence of the vehicle.

“Shit, I gotta call the Boss!” Jimin whipped out his phone and groaned when he discovered a couple of missed calls from his manager already.

I gave him a nod to let him know he could make the call safely. I wouldn’t record it or anything shady like that, I respected them too much and it wasn’t in my nature at all. Jimin gazed over a final time before finally deciding to place his full trust in me. I was already driving the car he was hitching a ride in, so trust honestly couldn't have mattered less when both of their lives were pretty much already cradled in my hands.

“I’d like to thank you as well (Y/n)-ssi, you really did save us back there,” Jungkook commented quietly as he leaned forward so I could hear. Neither of us wanted to interrupt Jimin as he fell into a heated discussion with his manager, or possibly Namjoon from the sounds of his replies over the phone.

“It’s okay Jungkookie, I know you guys deserve a much-needed break after all that. Sit back and enjoy the ride is all I'll say,” I said with a sigh, and finally decided to relax as well by releasing the tension in my muscles to sit more comfortably. I noticed Jungkook smirk cutely at the nickname accidently slipping out, and was just glad that he didn’t find it inappropriate.

“No, I swear she’s fine. She won’t do anything like that hyung,” Jimin’s suddenly louder response caused my smile to drop and my eyes to swivel around to the blonde boy. His temperament had grown agitated and I could see he was having difficulty trying to convince his managers and group leader. His round cheeks were blown out in exasperation, and I could clearly read the worry flitting across his expression.

“Jimin-ssi, if he wants to talk to me he can,” I offered softly so I didn’t spook him, raising my eyebrows in encouragement. We’d travelled a fair way, so pulling over was an option even though it was probably still too dangerous to linger in one place for long.

“No thanks it’s fine, I do trust you.” Jimin shook his head and I couldn’t help but smile at his kind, yet stubborn nature. These boys had no idea who I was, yet they put their faith in me and my driving ability for longer than they even needed to.

Jimin finished up with his call after another few minutes of stressed reassuring.

“Um, (Y/n)-ssi? I have an address I need to put in. If that’s okay.” He turned to me after letting out an explosive sigh, and I nodded towards the phone resting on the dashboard.

“Go ahead, distance isn't an issue.”

Jimin smiled at my response and shyly reached forward for my phone, still trying to be respectful.

“Hyung said it would be ideal if you dropped us off somewhere nearby the dorms so there’s no suspicion, but apparently all nearby areas are swarming with fans trying to figure out what’s going on.”

“Shit,” I breathed, the full realisation dawning on me. If their fans found out who I was, I wouldn’t be left alone for a while. I could imagine receiving threats and loads of unwanted attention, possibly not even being able to leave my house for a few days at the very least.

“So, you’ll have to drop us at the actual dorms then.”

“What?” I questioned in an instant. That sounded like the dumbest thing I’d ever heard.

“Isn’t that the area where most of the fans would be?”

“Well, most likely, but there's security.” Jimin ran a hand down his face as if trying to rub away the sudden bout of stress brought on, and I could fathom just how tired he was from all the rambunctious disorder.

“Why not drive you somewhere far away and get your driver to pick you up or something?”

“I did suggest that, but they just want us back as soon as possible so they can calm everyone down. I don’t mean to be rude, but they can’t exactly know or predict what you’ll do.”

That definitely made sense. Watching another car pull out of the building might also cause the fans to suspect the worst. They could even believe that I kidnapped the two band members instead of saving them. Well, that and there was absolutely no reason for their company to trust me with two of their idols that much.

“Okay, but one of you lend me a mask or something. I’m not going in there with a death wish.”

Jungkook chuckles from the back seat, and I’m slightly startled due to not hearing from the younger boy for a while.

“You’re right though, here you can use mine. I have my hoodie anyway.” A hand appeared next to me holding a familiar black mask, the faint but fragrant smell of a rare cologne wafting around me at the action. Of course, anything he’s worn would smell this expensive. Seeing how normal they can act, it’s hard to remember just how rich they actually are.

“Thanks.” I slipped on the mask and the smell was now stronger. I almost swooned.

“It’s actually not as far as I thought,” I commented when the map displayed the route to take. I knew the traffic was most likely to be more congested in this area than the city mall was before, so I decided to take a couple of back routes.

“Good plan,” Jungkook piped in with a nod and I saw the excited grin plastered on his face.

“What are you so happy about?” Jimin scoffed with a raised brow.

“I dunno, just this whole thing is so… exciting? Nothing like this has ever happened before,” Jungkook replied while trying to smother his grinning, but failing miserably.

“True, you guys would usually be living a careful life, right?” I decided to join in. Jimin and Jungkook didn’t seem to be shy or guarded around me as much as they were, but I knew they were still keeping face amongst all the drama.

“Of course, we don’t want our precious fans to worry about us,” Jimin went on in a level tone, his hand flying up to emphasise his point. I still couldn’t get over how captivating his voice sounded in person, and how it was this close to me...

“Speaking of fans, you’re an ARMY?” Jungkook’s cheeky lilt gained my attention and caused me to look up and lock eyes with him in the rear-view mirror.

“What of it?”

I try to suppress my sharp exhale of amusement, but fail miserably as well. Kookie’s adorable expression of playful confidence, bordering on egotistical even, made the laughter bubble up.

“Well, obviously you’d have a favourite, a bias.”

The question causes me to now laugh loudly, smacking the wheel once.

“Ah, I should’ve seen this coming honestly.”

Jimin clicked his tongue at his junior band member. “As if it matters.”

His voice is also playful, and I can tell he’s just as curious as the maknae by how he looks across at me with raised eyebrows and a small knowing smirk adorning his full lips. They were both taking this as a joke, and I was not going to be any different.

“Of course it matters Jimin, this is the question that decides my fate,” I feigned offense, and watched as his smile caused his eyes to disappear in the cutest, squishiest way imaginable.

Before I could say anything else, an embarrassed blush swarmed my cheeks as I spluttered, “Oh crap, I forgot the honorific.”

“Its fine,” Jimin assured. “You mentioned you don’t care for them before, so I can live without it.”

I smirked at him and shook my head slightly. “You’re actually too nice.”

His melodious chuckle was then interrupted by the mischievous maknae in the back.

“Hey, don’t change the subject hyung. Who’s your favourite member (Y/n)?” I noticed he took instant advantage of the honorific drop, and almost slipped an amused snort.

“Well it’s not either of you, that’s for sure.”

I knew they could tell there was a certain level of sarcasm in my tone, but they still let out varying noises of defeat.

“What, no way. It must be Jin-hyung then,” Jungkook groaned and I couldn't contain a giggle. His narcissistic nature was showing, and this time I wasn’t even sure if it was a joke or not. Jimin chose to pipe in as well, obviously enjoying the mystery that was my ‘supposed Bangtan bias’.

“Nah, I reckon it’s Tae. She’s weird enough to be a perfect match for him.”

Oh my, he really went there.

Both of the boy’s breath hitched, as if they thought I was going take offense and kick them out on the curb.

“Honestly, if you think Tae’s weird then I’m a whole other level. Although I guess I can never know who you guys are behind the screen.”

Jimin visibly relaxed after hearing me take the joke, but then grew serious again after my last comment.

“We’re fairly genuine to our fans, as much as we can be,” He defended, but wasn’t insulted. Jungkook nodded in agreement from the back, still smiling from the joking around that happened before.

“Of course, that’s why you’re one of my favourite groups, but you have to admit it is kind of impossible for someone like me to make a judgement on someone I’ve never met.”

“That is true, I guess. We really do try hard for you guys. I never thought super hard about that,” Jimin looked upwards as he pondered, and I felt proud that I’d gotten more than enough glimpses of both their true natures just from this simple car ride. Though, realistically they could be phenomenal actors and I wouldn’t know any different.

“We may be one of your favourite groups, but I’m still waiting for the member~,” Jungkook started lowly from the back, his sentence breaking off into his famous high pitched giggle when he saw my deadpan expression staring him down in the mirror. Jimin joined in and I sighed in defeat.

“Okay. I don’t have one.”

There’s a small silence, but both boys explosively let out sounds of understanding.

“Ah, you’re one of those.”

I was about to question what Jimin meant, but Jungkook cut me off.

“I was just about to pin her as a Yoongi stan.”

The sudden and serious statement made me cackle, although the sound was muffled by the black fabric of the mask over my mouth.

“Oh boy, you have absolutely no idea. My best friend…” I trailed off as laughter gripped me, almost causing me to veer off the road uncontrollably.

“Jesus Christ, watch out!” Jimin breathlessly squeaked as he made a grab for the wheel to steady the moving car. I gripped the wheel harder in fear, but amusement washed over me once again.

“Hyung did your voice just-”

“Shut up.”

I couldn’t stop the amused snort, but managed to regain control. My chuckles were now borderline wheezes, and I could hear Kookie in the back sharing the same demise.

“As I was saying,” I began, but erupt once more as the memory of Jimin’s voice crack surfaced back to the front of my mind. Jungkook is in shambles, but Jimin is just sitting with his head buried in his hands next to me, shoulders shaking as he tries to avoid his inevitable embarrassment.

“Stoooop.” He drawled it out and reached behind him to smack the chortling maknae on the knee somewhat harshly. I knew he hated the fact that he just got embarrassed in front of some stranger, who had also been established as a pretty avid fan. Poor Chim.

“You forget I’ve seen videos of your many embarrassments,” I offered in between chuckles, and caught the moment his face scrunched up in an adorable cringe. A sigh of defeat fell from his lips. “Yeah, I give up.”

He still chuckled and shook his head, the tinkling sounds causing me to bring a hand up to clutch my chest dramatically. Both boys laughed cutely once again at my reaction, Jimin’s eyes disappearing as he covered his face with one small hand.

“You sure you’re not a Jimin stan, noona?” Jungkook chimes in. I raised a brow and decided to skilfully avoid the question.

“Ah, so you picked up that I’m older than you?”

Jungkook stopped, his jaw going slack at the sudden question, and I found myself face to face with his widely memed blankness instead. I almost can’t contain myself.

“Oh, yeah maybe? It kind of actually just slipped out.”

I find myself giggling at the return of his shy persona, and he smiled bashfully at the floor in response. His tongue pushed out one of his cheeks in shame.

“Yah, don’t assume such a thing,” Jimin chuckled, obviously grateful that the heat was finally off of him.

“Don’t worry, I’m the same age as Jiminie I believe,” I decided to help the poor boy out, craning my neck forward to check the next turn off for oncoming cars.

We were actually almost to the destination, and the trip had flown by way too quickly. After Jungkook made a noise of comprehension, Jimin looked around suddenly and grunted in surprise.

“Crap, I was meant to call Namjoonie back a few minutes ago.”

“What are you doing hyung?” Jungkook chided in flippant scolding, to which Jimin responded with another angered slap. He brought out his phone and dialled a number quickly, obviously not concerned that I could very well easily read and memorise it in two seconds flat.

As If I would anyway.

I fell silent as Jimin waited for the phone call to connect.

Jungkook 3rd person POV

Jungkook also waited, breathless at the thought of how dire the situation was to their careers as a whole. This was such a strange occurrence to the famous band members, and he thought about how normal and relaxed the car ride had actually been when compared to how awkward they thought it was going to turn out.

When Jungkook had made the Uber request originally, he and Jimin were prepared to face the worst. Anyone who had the opportunity to drive a car unsupervised with two famous idols in tow could easily turn the tables and expose them more, or maybe even do worse things…

He shook his head at the thought and silently swallowed the bile rising in his throat. He glanced over to your form sitting in the driver’s seat, stiffened slightly due to the very important call being made.

You had been nothing but kind and understanding so far, not to mention hilariously easy going. Jungkook found himself respecting you immediately. You could have freaked out and demanded autographs or photos from them at any time. You could have decided to not drop them off where they wanted and just continued to drive for eternity. You could have even taken them anywhere you wanted to, but no, you listened to them, respected their privacy and even agreed to risk your reputation to drive them into their dorms where countless fangirls could eat you alive if they found out.

You were just amazing, and Jungkook knew his hyung felt similarly. Well, considering how he defended you without question before when Namjoon probably jumped to conclusions, it was evident that Jimin trusted you too.

Jungkook was completely numb from bewilderment. Everything could have gone wrong for them in their haste to escape the mob of their excited fans, but it didn’t, and it was all thanks to you.

These types of people drive our purpose, we’re so happy to have reached you.

Although if he was honest, he wouldn't mind at all if you got all flustered and cute while gushing over him. Just a little bit.

Reader 1st person POV

I watched as Jimin jerked the phone away from his ear suddenly, a loud voice booming loudly through the tiny speaker to reach even my ears. Jimin’s face winced as he brought the phone back to his ear hesitantly.

“We’re so sorry for the mess Sir, but it worked out.”

I knew that he was most likely talking to his manager or director with how his language changed. He ruffled his blonde hair anxiously and continued to listen to the voice on the line, eventually digging his teeth into his bottom lip in another bout of anxiety.

“Wait, we’re almost to the dorms, she’s got a mask on and everything-” Jimin was cut off and my eyes darted in between him and the road ahead to try and figure out what was happening. His breathing sped up and I could see his own eyes meeting mine a few times worriedly.

What is going on?

We were getting close to the dorms, and I had already noticed how the housing had become wealthier the more I drove through the city. The streets were becoming beautiful and cleaner. I knew that the boys lived in most likely the richest place in the city, and this place was by far the definition of that.

One thing I also noticed is that there were a few groups of girls dotted here and there that were walking or sitting around the footpaths. Some even saw my car and started pointing and taking photos while jumping up and down.

“Well, there goes my anonymity.” I sighed and slumped further in my seat, as if to hide my face better than it was already hidden. The only sound as I drove onwards was Jimin’s occasional reply into the phone next to me. His responses were becoming less worried, but still sounded unenthusiastic.

“Yes, I understand, okay I’ll tell her,” Jimin murmured and I held my breath at the sound of the call being hung up. My curiosity was nothing short of burning, and I instantly turned to the blonde boy when he looked at me pointedly.

“Um, our manager needs you to come in with us so you can speak with him and sign some stuff.”

I look forward again and nod once in understanding. “Yeah, I knew this would most likely happen. Confidentiality, right?”

I crack a smile at the thought of actually going in and meeting the famous Bang Sihyuk, CEO and founder of Bighit Entertainment.

“Wow,” I breathed after fully wrapping my head around what was happening.

“I guess you never thought this would happen.” Jungkook chuckled from the backseat, and I scoffed in disbelief.

“Yeah it’s not every day you meet two members of Bangtan and their producer.”

The sarcasm was heavy, and the two boys grinned in amusement. Jimin leant forwards to rest his forehead on the dashboard in a weary manner. “Ah, I’m so sorry for forcing you into this mess (Y/n)-ssi.”

“What did I say about apologising? I love you guys and your music; this is the least I can do to repay you for all the happiness you have brought me.” My voice became emotional and quiet as I let out all my pent-up feelings. I didn’t know how exactly I could express my bundling thoughts into formed words, but I felt as though that might have been just enough to let them know how ecstatic I truly was that this miracle had happened to me.

“You must be an angel,” Jimin smiled at me so sweetly and genuinely that I had to rip my gaze away from him in order to prevent tearing up. I heard Jungkook sigh in awe at my words, and I looked up to see him smiling shyly at the ground before glancing forward.

“Devoted fans like you are the reason we have made it this far, (Y/n).”

Jimin turns his head and gives Jungkook a look that says 'Well that was fucking sappy' but I can’t help but smile wider and let out a tiny gleeful squeak unknowingly.

His words had caused my emotions to storm again, and I was so fortunate to hear them in person that I didn’t even know what to do with myself. I gripped the wheel tighter so I wouldn’t let go and do anything stupid. Since I had my mask on, they could only see my smile through how my eyes and cheeks bunched up, but unfortunately the mask wasn’t large enough to cover my entire face.

“Awe you’re so cute when you blush like that!” Jimin laughed loudly, reaching out to poke my reddening skin. I gasped and knocked his hand away softly with one of my own.

“Leave me alone, I can’t control it or anything.”

Jungkook was also sniggering in the back, his cheeky nature making a comeback as I shook my head to try and rid myself of the heat.

“Sorry for that noona.”

Now he was using the word to tease me, and I fought the urge to slap him like Jimin did before. “Silly boy, I swear you’ll never make me blush again.”

“You sure about that? I’ll accept the challenge.”

“And we’re here!” I dragged out the first word to hopefully try and cut him off. I could still hear him giggling in the back, his knowing smile holding an impish quality.

The sight before me was spectacular, if that was even enough to sum it up. The area in which BTS lived was absolutely breathtaking, and I knew that this was in fact one of the, if not the richest place in all of Seoul.

The gardens were marvellously well grown and maintained, while the architecture seemed to gleam and glow in the sunlight, too perfectly constructed to be true. Modern was also an understatement, as this place seemed borderline futuristic. To describe it in one word, glorious.

“I don’t even know if someone like me should go in there,” I stammered, my voice cracking multiple times in sheer astonishment.

“Don’t be silly, how else are we gonna get in there?” Jimin joked and I snorted lightly at his change of demeanour.

“Walk, silly.” I shared a cheeky glance with the maknae behind me when Jimin gasped.

“Rude, and here I thought you were a fan?”

“I’m joking Jimin, alright how do we actually do this?” I looked around and saw a parking space out the front of the main building. Jimin gestured towards it and nodded, giving me the go to proceed.

There were no fans lurking around this place due to the security, but I knew I wouldn’t be able to escape any photographers if they were there. Luckily we had only a few brief, yet concerning encounters with the fans while driving in to the complex itself.

If Kookie hadn’t given me the mask I would be dead meat cooking on a spit.

I parked the car carefully and fell back into my seat with a sigh. Jimin and Jungkook eyed me with concern clouding their features.

“We’re so-”

“Park Jimin, will you eventually heed my words?” I tilted my head and blinked rapidly at him with a smile on my face. He sees my playful, yet tired expression and shakes his head with an annoyed groan.

“I probably will never stop apologising for the trouble we’ve caused.”

I sighed again and exaggerated a pout, borderline mockery if you will. Jungkook let out a huff and a click of his tongue indicated the long-awaited comeback of his cocky attitude.

“Come on hyung, she already said it doesn’t matter.”

His tone caused Jimin to narrow his eyes towards the back accusingly, and I watched as the younger member sat back down, satisfied with the reaction.

“Thank you maknae,” I rolled my eyes and suppressed a chuckle at his scoff, catching Jimin’s amused and appreciative look. I observed around one more time before turning my gaze upwards to glance at the building next to us.

“Okay it’s now or never boys, run and don’t look back.”

170 notes · View notes

pointy-hat-witch · 3 years

Text

My gift for @smol-fatale for the @fyeahbnha secret santa event!! I had lots of fun writing it! Hope you enjoy it! I never wrote a ShinKami fic so I hope I did them justice! :)

Title: Hot Stuff Fandom: Boku no Hero Academia Word count: 7233 words Summary: In which Shinsou’s Christmas Miracle happens in form of a broken stove and an electrician.

You can also read it on AO3! :)

Shinsou was, generally speaking, a loner by choice, mind you. He enjoyed his own company, living at his own pace. So, when Midoriya slowly but steadily made himself a presence in his life, he initially didn’t notice. And by the time he did, it was already too late.

Together with Uraraka, Midoriya’s almost-sorta-girlfriend(?), they moved into a three bed-room-apartment rather close to their uni. Every now and then, Shinsou asked himself how it ended up like that but whenever he thought about it, he reached to the conclusion that he didn’t really mind, after all. He found these friends, or rather they found him and now they’re his family.

Well, until moments like these.

Shinsou came home from one of his late lectures, and it was already dark outside which was no surprise for mid-december anyway. Because he was hungry, the lecture dragged on as it was and his last meal had been some time ago, he just wanted to fix himself a fast meal and watch a movie before passing out.

So, when he came home he first noticed the silence, the eerie silence. After around a year and half living with friends, he was fluent in reading the atmosphere, that was why he knew something was up. He was certain that Midoriya and Uraraka should be home already and that they hadn’t anything planned for tonight.

“Hello?” He patiently half-shouted into their apartment from their entry hall as he slipped out of his shoes. There was a shuffle in the kitchen and some muffled voices. Something was definitely amiss. Shinsou sighed.

Preparing himself mentally, he left his bag where it was, put on his slippers and slowly made his way toward the kitchen. He didn’t sneak up or anything but when he appeared in the door, both Uraraka and Midoriya jumped up as if he was Satan himself. They pressed their shoulders together, standing as rigid as humanly possible and their faces, hh god, Shinsou would have cracked at least a smile if his gut didn’t say something was awfully wrong.

“W-w-w-what’s up, Shinsou? Home already, huh? Kinda thought you would have come a little later, like you know, you could have gotten a coffee because it’s so late and you would have taken a bus later or even walked, so we didn’t really thought you would be-“ Midoriya continued babbling but Shinsou already zoned out, staring neutrally over to Uraraka.

And, oh, Uraraka. “Why on earth don’t you breathe?” Shinsou interrupted Midoriya as he slowly squinted at her round cheeks, her eyes almost bulging out.

“Baaaah!“ Uraraka pushed out all of her breath she held in and then took a deep breath afterward.

“Sorry, ahhh,” she whined, fanning herself, “I was getting so nauseous and just had to.”

“Why did you feel nauseous?” Shinsou’s voice cut through the air that was as thick as butter.

“Uhhhh,” Midoriya and Uraraka looked at each other in panic but after a couple of silent seconds exhaled defeatedly. Whatever it was, they couldn’t keep him in the dark forever. They each took a step to the side, moving away from each other to show him the disaster.

“What am I looking at, guys?” Shinsou asked, fully aware of what he was looking at. But he needed them to say it.

“We, uh,” Uraraka gesticulated wildly without saying anything, looking at every possible thing in the room except Shinsou and that. Shinsou’s gaze wandered over to Midoriya who’s shoulders were perched up, elbows close to his body while mumbling inconceivable into one of his hands.

“Guys.” Shinsou sighed. “Just, what happened?”

“We wanted to make dinner,” Uraraka whined, “for you, you know? Mondays are bad as they are and you have a full day of classes so we thought we could, uh, make you dinner.”

Midoriya nodded, his hair bobbing with the motion. “And we just got started, like prepping and we needed flour for the batter and it-“

“It just,” Uraraka threw her arms in the air, “the glass container just slipped through my fingers.”

“And fell on the stove.”

“And fell on the stove.” Shinsou mumbled, nodding solemnly. Yeah, this was his chosen family. Smashing their ceramic stove plate with a glass of flour. He stared at the abomination. The cupboard right next to the stove was a little higher than usual, so Uraraka had probably stood on her toes to reach the glass and it must have bounced off her arm right in the middle of the stove plate, smashing it into pieces. Everywhere black shards. Leaving the stove irreparable.

“Did you get hurt?” Shinsou asked as he kneeled down to pick up some of the bigger pieces.

“No!” They both shook their heads.

“Then that’s all that matters.” Complaining about spilled milk wouldn’t do neither of them any good. He knew it was an accident, shit happens.

“We’re sorry, Shinsou.”

Shinsou blinked and looked up. Both Uraraka and Midoriya looked at the floor, Uraraka fighting off tears and Midoriya balling his hands into fists.

Yeah, those were his family. If he would have been still with his blood relatives they- no. Shinsou didn’t think about that anymore.

Shinsou shook his head, almost smiling fondly. “Don’t worry about it. You didn’t get hurt, so it doesn’t matter. We can just order food.”

Averting another disaster, as Uraraka and Midoriya looked like they wanted to jump on him to smother him with their affection, Shinsou got them to help him clean up the kitchen, before they ordered food, which his friends paid for, and watched a movie until he passed out.

He woke up the next morning with his blanket thrown over him and he indulged himself for another five minutes, snuggling into the heavy blanket. But, alas, even though he only had two classes in the afternoon, he had some homework from the day before, so he had to get up eventually. And the earlier the better.

When he got up, he noticed a small piece of paper on the couch table with his name neatly written on.

Curious, he picked it up and unfolded it.

“Dear Shinsou,

we hope you slept well. You looked like you were dead at least.. Sorry again for the stove. Please call the landlord about it. He likes you.

Love,

Your besties!!”

Shinsou couldn’t decide whom of them he wanted to strangle first. Letting out a silent groan, Shinsou let himself fall back onto the couch, staring up at the ceiling. Today was an even more low energy day than usual, so the thought about calling someone was already taking a toll on him.

They all knew, Aizawa wouldn’t yell at them or anything. He was the best landlord you could get, honestly. Not they often, say, smash their stove plate but if they needed anything done in their apartment he would get it done in a few days. Sometimes, he even just came over to talk and check in if they’re alright, studying and working and all that.

And Shinsou and he may or may not clicked right from the start. They both were low-tension, didn’t talk around the bush and didn’t need to tiptoe around each other. If he could choose, Shinsou kind of wanted to have him as a dad. But that was something he would ever say out loud.

Still, why he needed to call him was beyond him.

He searched around for his phone blindly, not bothering looking away from the ceiling. When he finally found it, his finger scrolled through his contacts, their landlord a commonly called number. Shinsou sighed. He dialed.

“What did they do now?” Aizawa’s voice was gruff, probably only just gotten out of bed himself, for what Shinsou felt a little guilty. They both didn’t like talking on the phone, but both his roommates and his spouse were notorious in getting them to do it.

“They broke the stove plate.” He cut right to the chase.

“They did what now?”

“Dropped a glass on it. Smashed it.”

“They smashed the-,” Aizawa mumbled in disbelief to himself.

“Do you have an electrician or a company you use for stuff like that? I can call them. And we pay, of course. Our fault.”

“Their fault,” Aizawa pointed out, “but yeah. I know someone. I’ll give them a call.”

They agreed that the electrician either comes until 1 pm or the next day in the evening and their call ended. As short as it was and for some may sound a little standoff-ish, Shinsou liked those calls the most. They weren’t as dreadful as those where he had to make small talk and offend the other person by not being the friendliest customer or something.

When he finally was done with that, he fixed himself a bowl of cereal and then sat down on his desk to get some work done before heading off to uni.

When the doorbell rang, Shinsou almost flinched, hunched over his notes about commonly known phobias. Geez. He rubbed his face as he stumbled over to the door, not thinking twice about making himself any more presentable. He, first of all, didn’t give a flying fuck about what an electrician would think about him, and secondly, it was a apartment with three students, what could anyone expect?

What he didn’t expect, was to look into the bright face of someone his age, grinning around a lollipop.

“Yo!” He almost shouted, as he pushed up his cap a little, grinning around his lollipop even wider.

“Hi.” Shinsou answered in the most monotonous voice he could muster but it didn’t deter the other to smile any less.

“I heard you have a broken stove.”

“Yeah.” He stepped aside, letting the guy inside. “First door to the right.”

“Gotcha!” He nodded, pulling his feet out of his shoes. “Oh, I’m Kaminari, by the way.”

“Uh-huh.” Shinsou wasn’t sure how to handle this ball of energy. Literally. When the electrician took his cap off, clipping it to his belt, his yellow hair showed a black streak in his fringe which resembled a flash of lighting. His steps had a little spring to them, his fingers kept tapping to some rhythm, his eyes darting around. And Shinsou only knew this guy for about ten seconds.

“Oh.” Kaminari said as he entered the kitchen. “Well, yeah, that is fucked. In my professional opinion, of course.” He threw his head back and laughed. He fucking laughed at his own joke. “How in god’s name did you do that, man?” Kaminari walked up to the smashed stove plate, without the glass shards mind you, looking at it in fascination.

“My roommates dropped a glass on it.” Shinsou crossed his arms lazily, leaning against the kitchen door frame. “What can you do about it?”

“That sounds like your roommates are a blast!” He laughed again, pushing his lollipop around in his mouth. “Well, I am great at my job but that,” he pointed at the broken ceramic plate, “even I can’t fix that. Got to get you a new one.”

“Figured as much.” Shinsou groaned. “How long will that take?”

“Not that long,” Kaminari mused, pulling out a folding rule. “Oh, did you take out the fuse?”

“Huh?”

Kaminari laughed, again. “That answers it, hehe. Where is your fuse box?” Though Kaminari laughed again and again and kept a lazy smile on his lips, Shinsou never felt that he laughed at him, he just was … amused. And it kinda made it easier to talk to him.

“Over there,” Shinsou pointed back to the entrance hall, next to the small coat rack.

“Gotcha!” Kaminari hopped over to it, with one look flipped one of the like fifty switches, which Shinsou had only a very, very general idea for what they were, and danced back into the kitchen.

“Didn’t plan on getting fried by a smashed stove today!” He winked at Shinsou as he laid down his folding rule to measure the plate.

Shinsou was frozen on the spot. Did he just wink at him? Was he … no. He was just like that, that wasn’t anything weird, was it?

“Alrighty,” Kaminari mumbled around his lollipop, writing some numbers on his notepad that he pushed back into one of his numerous pockets. “It’s a standard stove plate, so nothing hard to get by. I would say tomorrow, the day after tomorrow the latest I can install the new one. Does one of the days work better for you?”

Shinsou blinked himself out of his own stupor, mentally going through his schedule. “I could do tomorrow evening or the evening after that.”

“Tomorrow it is then!” Kaminari smiled around his now almost vanished lollipop. “Uh, can I have your phone number? Just in case, it doesn’t work out for whatever reason, you know?”

“Sure.” Shinsou nodded, rattling off his number. Kaminari typed at his phone, throwing Shinsou a quick glance, clearing his throat.

“And, uh, I didn’t catch your name?”

There was a beat silence, before Shinsou answered slowly.

“Shinsou Hitoshi. Got it.” Kaminari smiled. His fingers fished out another lollipop, unwrapping it so fast Shinsou has never seen anyone do it before and popping it into his mouth. The other stick wandered into a small container with at least five other empty sticks. Uh, okay.

“Well then, Shinsou,” Kaminari said in his usual loud voice, Shinsou just figured out, “see you tomorrow!”

“Yeah, see you tomorrow.” Shinsou nodded as Kaminari slipped back into his shoes and then was out the door after a short wave.

Shinsou didn’t know how long he stood in the entrance hall after Kaminari left. It was kinda like a storm passing by and Shinsou had to process what just happened. Like, nothing bad happened, Kaminari did his job, was friendly, professional. But… but why did it feel like there so much more that happened?

Shinsou shook his head. It was just their wavelengths that were way off and it just was too much all of the sudden, Shinsou figured. Though, if Kaminari felt like so high tension and brimming with energy, why didn’t Shinsou feel drained in the least?

---

Since he only had morning classes, Shinsou spent the afternoon with his roommates. They brought some takeout with them on their way home, so they had some warm food at least. Shinsou was appreciative of them buying all the food, college students being notoriously broke as they were, though it didn’t come up yet, Shinsou planned to chip in with the repair costs, of course. They’re his closest friends after all.

Of course they did speak about the short visit of the electrician and in hindsight, Shinsou ought to know better, but he brought up the topic just to inform them. But he must have slipped in something of the sort that he felt weirdly calm around this energetic guy, because they both brought up sudden plans right after.

So, when 7 p.m. rolled around, he was all alone in the apartment again. And his heart was weirdly pounding in his chest. That was why he literally flinched when his phone rang on full blast. He forgot to put his volume back down after watching a cat video because who the fuck did call anybody these days?

The number was unknown and everything in him screamed to just not pick up. But then his finger was already sliding the “accept” button to the side.

“Shinsou speaking.” He pinched his nose, already berating himself for getting on the phone with a stranger.

“Ah! Hey, Shinsou! It’s Kaminari! The electrician? From yesterday. Because of the stove?” Kaminari’s voice was even louder through the phone, practically screaming in his ear and Shinsou had to hold his phone away before turning down the output volume.

“Yeah, Kaminari. I remember. What’s up?” Shinsou licked his lips, his mouth gone dry all of the sudden.

“I just wanted to check in, if I can come in around half an hour?” There was some traffic noise in the background, he probably just finished up his last customer.

“Yeah, half an hour. I’m here.”

“Perfect! Then I’m just gonna pick up your wonderful new stove plate and come right over!”

“Great.”

Kaminari chuckled and Shinsou’s skin prickled. It even sounded like he had yet another lollipop between his lips, clacking occasionally against his teeth.

“See you soon, Shinsou!” Kaminari hung up before Shinsou could even say anything. He let his phone fall out of his hand on the couch, pressing his hands against his face as he leaned back. What was going on with him? He … was looking forward to seeing Kaminari again? What in the ever loving fuck?

The next half hour went by agonizingly slowly since Shinsou looked at his phone every other minute, both to check the time but also, and he would never admit to it, maybe getting another call from the electrician.

When it (finally) rang at the door, Shinsou had to force himself not to run to the door. Purposefully slowly he opened the door to Kaminari leaning against the stove plate, properly secured in Styrofoam.

“Hey,” he grinned around his lollipop, “I chose the best stove for you!”

“Tha-“

“Out of a range of options!” Kaminari proceeded to put his hands up, motioning finger guns, while winking at Shinsou. And then snorted with laughter himself.

Shinsou didn’t know what did it for him. The absolute absurdity of the situation, the worst pun he ever heard, or Kaminari laughing at his own joke. Maybe all together. But he had to turn his head to the side and snort behind his hand.

“I saw that!” Kaminari yowled, high fiving himself. “Still got it!”

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” Shinsou asked in the least serious way possible.

“Come on! That was funny!” Kaminari grinned, pulling off his shoes as he more or less invited himself in. Well, Shinsou did step aside to let him in anyway.

“It wasn’t really.” He shook his head, hands pushed inside his pockets as he didn’t know what to do with them.

“But you laughed!” Kaminari exclaimed, carrying the stove plate that looked like it weighted nothing in his arms over to the kitchen.

“I laughed because it was stupid.”

“Whatever the reason, I made you laugh!” Kaminari threw a quick glance over his shoulder at him, before putting the stove plate down right in front of the destroyed one.

“You didn’t turn on the fuse again, did you?”

Shinsou shook his head. “Why would we? I think you were the first one to ever touch that box in this household to begin with.”

That made Kaminari throw his head back with laughter. Why, Shinsou didn’t know but it made him feel warm that something he said made Kaminari laugh so earnestly.

“Are your roommates ever home?” Kaminari opened the cupboard underneath the broken stove plate, getting his flashlight to look at the high-tension socket. “Or just to break your stuff?”

Shinsou could see Kaminari’s shoulders tremble as he suppressed his laughter. Taking a deep breath and exhaling silently through his mouth, Shinsou leaned against the doorframe.

“They had some plans. Suddenly,” he added under his breath, shaking his head. “We do lots of stove together, don’t worry. They’re great friends.”

Kaminari’s whole body shook, giggling silently. He pulled out a small screwdriver and undid the lid of the outlet. There were a couple of silent seconds as Kaminari carefully pulled out the few wires, before coming up again.

“Wanna give me a hand?” He grinned, setting the flashlight to the side, still kneeling on the ground.

“And doing your job without getting paid?” Shinsou answered but stepped up next to the other regardless.

“Ha, you wish!” Kaminari pushed his lollipop around in his mouth, grinning widely. “Okay, just lift the plate when I push it up.”

“And I won’t get electrocuted for sure?”

“Alas, I’m too good at my job for this to happen. An unfortunate circumstance of being gorgeous and talented.” Kaminari shrugged, shaking his head with a mock devastated expression. Shinsou snorted against his better judgment and didn’t acknowledge the knowing grin from Kaminari.

The plate lifted up a few centimeters as Kaminari pushed it from below and Shinsou grabbed it around the edges, raising it up a little higher. It was, indeed, lighter than he thought.

“Great, thanks.” Kaminari stood up and took it off Shinsou’s hands, standing so close to him he could smell the strawberry scented lollipop through his lips. Kaminari put the broken plate flat on the ground, so as to not let any loose shards fall off. Shinsou stepped back to the side when Kaminari lifted up the other stove plate, put it into its designated place and was back on his knees within seconds. Talk about efficiency.

Another few hand movements and the wires were back in place, the lid was screwed back on the socket and Kaminari stood back up.

“Done and done. Just a last check.” He jogged out of the kitchen and Shinsou was surprised that he still knew where the fuse box was. He heard the switch being flipped and then Kaminari was jogging back in.

“Moment of truth.”

Kaminari turned one of the four knobs on the stove plate and with a silent electric vibration one of the four panels slowly turned red. Kaminari grinned self-satisfied and turned it off again.

“Perfect. Everything as it should be?”

“Yeah, uh, thanks.” Shinsou nodded, a little impressed. That wasn’t complicated in the least and didn’t take as much time as he thought. Probably a lot more expensive than expected, though.

“Great, then I just need you to,” Kaminari fumbled through his pockets to pull out some piece of paper, “sign these papers off. To accept the repair and that stuff.” Kaminari tapped on some boxes Shinsou had to tick and the line he had to sign on.

“Yeah, sure.” Shinsou accepted the pen Kaminari pulled out of another pocket. For a second Shinsou skimmed over the paper, just to be totally sure he wasn’t in some kind of high caliber scam or something but everything seemed to be in order, so he signed it.

“Then we’re done here.” Kaminari folded the paper back into his pocket and saluted Shinsou lazily. “My pleasure.”

“Uh, sure.” Shinsou’s thoughts came to a screeching stop as he realized that Kaminari was about to leave. Like, for good. And somehow it made him anxious. He didn’t want him to leave, instead he wants to hear more bad puns and his contagious laughter.

“Have a nice holiday!” Kaminari crunched the last bit of his lollipop and waved.

“Uh, yeah, thanks. You, too. Don’t get electrocuted by another smashed stove. Or something.” Shinsou pulled at one strand of his hair, unsure where to look.

“I’ll be careful!” Kaminari laughed, popping in another lollipop. “Well, then. See you, hot stove,” Kaminari winked and was out of the door. Leaving Shinsou staring at the closed door.

What the fuck?

---

It didn’t help at all, that Uraraka was literally rolling on the carpet in the living room and Midoriya’s shoulders shook while making a face as to no burst out laughing, when Shinsou told them about his second encounter with the electrician. He never regretted moving in with them more than in that moment.

“Wait, wait, wait,” Midoriya held a finger up before covering his mouth, mumbling something Shinsou didn’t quite get. Uraraka sat up, wiping away the tears that kept on rolling over her cheeks.

“So, what if,” Midoriya looked between them back and forth, “the lollipop was a metaphor all along?”

Uraraka shrieked and fell back down, holding her stomach from laughing so hard. And Shinsou stared outside the window, wishing he was somewhere else but here.

“But jokes aside,” Uraraka said from the floor, spread like a starfish, “you gonna text him or something? Like, you both pretty much find each other … likeable.” They both burst into a small fit of laughter.

Shinsou shook his head. “Why would I?” he sighed. “Sure, mayyyybe,” he fixed them both with a glare and they pressed their lips together, “we kinda sort of found each other tolerable, but,” he leaned back against the couch, crossing his arms, “he just did his job and maybe that’s just his way to talk to customers.”

“Whatever you say, hot stove,” Midoriya snorted.

And if Shinsou threw them both out with a hearty kick in the ass, he would pledge self-defense for his mentality.

---

It wasn’t that Shinsou not thought about maybe texting Kaminari after all since he had his number after he called him. But it didn’t feel right to text him on his work phone just because he felt like his social anxiety wasn’t as bad with his electrician than with everybody else. What kind of reason is that? And then he got flooded with assignments for almost all of his classes due before the Christmas holidays and it kind of slipped his mind.

On the morning of Christmas Eve, Shinsou said goodbye to Uraraka and Midoriya who both had promised their respective families to celebrate with them. They were home almost never already, that’s why they had these fixed days they just had to come home. And Shinsou felt warmed to the core, when they tried to get out of it to spend Christmas with him.

It was no secret that Shinsou would spend Christmas alone and he honestly didn’t mind. Christmas wasn’t a holiday he celebrated in the first place but just knowing everyone spent it with people they love sometimes can be pretty lonely. And spending these days with his blood rela- no, he didn’t even finish that thought. He rather felt like the loneliest person on earth than to spend Christmas with them.

So, he had to give his friends a crushing hug, reassuring them that he really didn’t mind, and he would text them as soon as something came up. It still didn’t make them stop crying, even when they were out the door and he waved at them until they were around the corner of the hallway.

His friends were the best.

The plan was to write a little bit on his paper about the impact of forced interaction because of holidays with family members and then watch a movie and order take out. Even if the stove was working again, it didn’t mean he had to use it.

When the doorbell rang at around noon, Shinsou looked up in confusion. He didn’t order anything yet, did he? He stumbled a few meters as his legs had fallen asleep sitting cross-legged for the past hours on the ground in front of the coffee table.

When he opened the door, it was his landlord Aizawa standing in front of him.

“Uh, hi?” Shinsou blinked, mentally going through anything that could have prompted his landlord to show up. They always paid in time, he wasn’t even remotely too loud to bother his neighbors, there was nothing leaking in the apartment…

“For you,” Aizawa held up a plastic bag, a food container shimmering through the almost transparent fabric. “Hizashi cooked a little too much. And we didn’t want it to get to waste.”

Shinsou looked at the bag and back at Aizawa’s tired face. He didn’t meet his eyes, staring at the floor.

“But your husb-,” Shinsou started but shut himself up. Aizawa’s eyebrow twitched up, but didn’t say anything as Shinsou took the plastic bag.

“Thank you, Aizawa.” Shinsou took a quick glance inside, but couldn’t make out anything specific.

“Merry Christmas, Shinsou,” Aizawa pulled up his scarf and nodded. “If you need anything, just give me a call.”

“Thanks, I will. And merry Christmas to you and Yamada, too.” Shinsou answered, raising his hand in a small wave. He looked after Aizawa’s back until he reached the staircase, where his landlord raised his hand one last time without looking back.

Shinsou went back inside and closed the door before leaning against it. He rubbed at his eye with the ball of his hand, squinting against the tear ducts that threaten to open up. Damn. he didn’t need to be around people to know he was loved so dearly.

But he for sure sent Uraraka and Midoriya a text message for snitching to their landlord that he’ll be home alone. But he also thanked them. And then send them a picture with the food container to make them jealous because they all knew what a great cook Aizawa’s husband was.

Taking a deep breath, willing his eyes to stay dry, Shinsou decided it was time for a break anyway. In the kitchen Shinsou turned on the rice cooker and then took a look at the food container. It was still a little warm and just smelled heavenly. Shinsou seemed to be in luck to get a taste of Yamada’s curry to which his growling stomach agreed.

He put the curry into a pot to reheat it, turned the stove on low heat and walked back to the living room to make some room to eat. It didn’t even take him five minutes when walked back into the kitchen, not even being able to wait twenty minutes, he tried to reason with himself if he even needed rice or could eat it crunchy and call it fried rice for a split second, as he stirred the curry.

Though … it didn’t smell any different, like it didn’t unfold its whole flavor when getting heated up. Shinsou dipped his finger into the curry to feel that it had cooled down even more. Blinking, he pushed the pot aside, hovering his hand over the stove plate to feel no heat at all. He turned the knob to the highest number, but the panel didn’t turn red at all, let alone get warm.

This just couldn’t be happening. Shinsou counted to ten inside his head, before turning the stove and the rice cooker off for good. His next action was to look up the landline of the company that had sent him the electrician that was “alas, too good at his job” and hoped they were still open.

Luck was on his side for that matter at least, since the call connected. The free-line signal went on for an alarming long time until someone picked up. A gruff voice answered, sounding like they had their fair share of annoying customers on Christmas Eve already. After getting through the greetings, Shinsou went right to the point. He didn’t brag about being the perfect customer, he was polite, for sure, but he didn’t suck up to them.

“The stove plate one of your electricians installed last week doesn’t work anymore.”

“Oh, I’m sorry,” he didn’t sound genuine at all, but Shinsou didn’t care. He just needed someone to fix it. “We have someone for emergencies on duty today. As soon as he is done with his current assignment, I’ll send him over. That okay?”

“Yeah. Thanks.”

“Great. Bye.” And he hung up.

Shinsou exhaled hard, nibbling at his lower lip. What now? Kicking his heels for between half an hour to five hours for someone to come? Working on his paper some more? Order some food already, maybe ruining his appetite?

After an hour he spent playing random games on his phone, upside down on the couch, the doorbell rang yet again this day. It didn’t make Shinsou any less anxious answering the door, though, even if he knew who it would be.

Kaminari stood at the door, cheeks slightly red, his chest rising and falling heavy, almost as if he hurried over here. Shinsou decided to ignore that for his own good.

“Yo!” Kaminari grinned, this time pulling out the lollipop and bowed slightly with his cap pulled off. “I’m terribly sorry about that mistake.”

“Uh,” Shinsou blinked. He didn’t expect such a sincere apology. “Don’t worry about it. I just wanna get something to eat, you know?”

“Yeah, totally!” Kaminari was back grinning at him and walked in as if it was already his own home. And Shinsou honestly didn’t mind. He even opened the fuse box to flip the switch for the high-tension outlet on his way as if it was the most natural thing to do.

“Your friends coming home for dinner, then?” Kaminari asked as he entered the kitchen, Shinsou slowly following him.

“Nah,” he tilted his head, one hand on his neck. “They spend Christmas with their family.”

“Huh?” Kaminari was already kneeling in front of the counter, looking over his shoulder like a lost puppy. “What about you? Does your family not meet up on Christmas Eve?”

Shinsou clenched his jaw, scratching his neck. “No.”

Even if he found Kaminari sympathetic and maybe even liked him a little bit, he still was a stranger and he didn’t need to tell him about any potential tragic backstory. And fortunately, Kaminari seemed to get the hint.

“Gotcha.” Kaminari pulled out his flashlight, leaning inside the cupboard. “I’m gonna spend Christmas Eve alone, too, you know? Though, some friends come over tomorrow evening.”

Shinsou blinked. “Uh-huh. So… what are you gonna do tonight?”

Kaminari had the audacity to lean back on his heels, looking over his shoulder with a smug grin. “What? You gonna ask me out on Christmas after meeting like three times? Shinsou,” he shook his head, “I’m on the clock, you know?”

Shinsou was speechless. Before he could even say anything, Kaminari leaned back under and this time opened up a small panel on the downside of the stove plate.

“Cat got your tongue?” Kaminari asked from inside, not sounding any less smug than before.

“Does your small talk always end up in something romantically and/or sexually implied?”

Kaminari looked, once again over his shoulder, pulling out his lollipop while smacking his lips lewdly. “I don’t know, does it?”

“Goddamnit.” Shinsou mumbled under his breath. Both done and frustratingly smitten with Kaminari. The offending electrician giggled before closing the panel and coming back to his feet again.

“The wire was a little loose, no big deal.” He said, back to his usual voice. “Should be no problems from here on out.”

“That’s what you said the last time.”

“Oh, did I?” Kaminari squinted at the ceiling as if to underline how hard he was thinking back to it. “Can’t remember.” He finally said, shaking his head.

“But now you really don’t have to worry about anything at all anymore.” He pushed his flashlight and screwdriver back into his pockets, unclipping his cap and putting it back on his head.

Shinsou nodded, scrunching up his face in annoyance or disappointed, he didn’t know either.

“Hey, Shinsou?” Kaminari asked around his lollipop as he put on his shoes.

“What?”

“My shift ends at around eight. Give or take half an hour depending on my last assignment.”

“And?” Shinsou raised both his eyebrows, playing nervously with the small hair at his neck.

“Well,” Kaminari chuckled but it was dry, not with its usual lightness, “I just… fuck.” He whispered to himself.

“What, Kaminari?” Shinsou pushed, his voice steadier than he would have thought with his heart pounding wildly in his chest.

“I just thought, you’re alone on Christmas Eve, I’m alone on Christmas Eve,” Kaminari rattled on, not looking back at him, “and I just, you know, I just thought it would be nice to spend it with someone. Who was funny. Or something. You know?”

Shinsou stepped a little closer, seeing that Kaminari’s neck turned bright red and Shinsou had to swallow hard around the lump in his throat. Fuck, indeed.

“You like Chinese food?”

“Huh?” Kaminari turned around half way this time, his cheeks still a little red.

“When you come over, bring Chinese Food. Or Indian. I’m not picky.” Shinsou mumbled, suddenly unsure of what to do or say, kicking at nothing. But he didn’t miss Kaminari’s eyes light up like a Christmas tree.

“Chinese sounds awesome!” Kaminari stood up, suddenly in a hurry. “I’m gonna call you when I’m on the way! See you later, Shinsou!” He shouted as he ran out the apartment, not even bothering to close the door.

The next few hours Shinsou tried to concentrate on writing his paper, failing miserably. He ate some of the curry from Yamada and Aizawa and it was as good as expected but Shinsou found himself looking more forward to the Chinese Takeout. Or the company with it. So, he only ate half of it and put the other half in the fridge for tomorrow.

He ended up looking at his phone every other minute, writing a sentence, then looking at it again. It goes without saying, but he didn’t get any real work done and he knew he had to revise everything he wrote on the last page.

The doorbell rang for the third time this day but Shinsou’s gut didn’t do its usual gymnastic exercises and before he knew, he was already in the entrance hall, opening up. Kaminari changed out of his work jumpsuit into his casual clothes. A thick coat with a dark purple scarf and hat buried him almost completely. His nose was a little red from the cold as he was overall dusted in light snow. But his smile was wide and seemed to melt the snow and cold away.

“Delivery!” It was almost unsettling that there was no lollipop in his mouth this time and Shinsou could actually see the wide grin, showing off immaculate white teeth.

“Come in.” Shinsou tried to sound as nonchalant as possible, only being betrayed by his trembling hands.

Kaminari stepped in, slipping out of his shoes without untying them, threw his coat with his scarf and hat over the wardrobe and just walked up to the living room. Shinsou followed close by, clenching and unclenching his hands to keep them from shaking.

“Wait a sec,” Shinsou pulled his laptop and books to the side, putting them under the coffee table for now. Kaminari put down the plastic bag with various containers.

“I hope I chose right,” he chuckled as he unpacked everything.

“I think you don’t have to worry about that.” Shinsou hummed as he stared at the various containers, kind of a little bit of everything. Fried rice, fried noodles, chicken, duck, wontons, fried vegetables, to name the usual suspects.

“I just wasn’t sure, you know, what you preferred,” Kaminari sounded genuinely worried, scratching his cheek as his eyes hopped from container to container. And that’s when Shinsou noticed how Kaminari’s hands were fidgeting around, pulling at a loose thread on his shirt, his foot tapping silently on the carpet, shifting his weight from one side to the other.

“Sit down,” Shinsou motioned on the ground. “Be right back.” Coming back from the kitchen, Shinsou put down two glasses and a bottle of soda on the table, before sitting down next to Kaminari, who put down his phone as he came back.

Shinsou turned around to pull down his weighted blanket, holding it up to Kaminari. “You want some?”

“Oh!” Kaminari’s face lit up. “Is that one of those weighted ones?!” Before Shinsou could even nod, Kaminari grabbed at it and weighted it with his hands.

“This feels so strange!” He giggled. Shinsou shook his head almost fondly, taking the blanket back from Kaminari’s hands and putting it over their shoulders.

“Sorry, it’s a little small so we need to-“ – “No problem.” Kaminari interrupted him as he scooted closer, grinning from ear to ear. Shinsou swallowed. The blanket had a nice weight to it on his shoulders, grounding him a little and steading his pulse almost instantly. With a glance to the side, Shinsou saw Kaminari sitting with his eyes closed, slowly breathing through his nose.

“I really need to get one of those for myself,” he hummed, smiling up to Shinsou with his eyes only half open.

“It’s Christmas, after all,” Shinsou said lamely, looking away since Kaminari’s relaxed face did things to his heart he didn’t know was possible, “you just wish for it.”

“Mhm, from you?”

“You wish.”

“Yeah, that’s the point.”

Shinsou snorted, shaking his head once again. He just couldn’t keep up with Kaminari.

They started to eat, trying everything before settling on some things just one of them liked and sharing other stuff. It was rather silent at first until Kaminari just started to talk about some of his customers, how just absolutely horrible some people can be. And some just unbelievable stupid. At one point he talked about a job where he had to replace a smashed stove for what Shinsou shoved him in the face.

Somehow over the course of their dinner, they scooted even closer, their arms almost touching constantly and Shinsou only ever realized that when Kaminari laughed at one of his anecdotes about Midoriya (he cracked a bowl with milk and cereal already inside and slurping it as fast as possible, so it didn’t spill) and he buried his face in Shinsou’s shoulder, his whole body shaking.

He had to turn his face away, feeling the heat rising to his cheeks. When Kaminari lifted his face up again and didn’t say anything, Shinsou could practically feel his eyes on him, looking through him.

“Hey.” Kaminari’s voice was quiet in contrast to before.

“What.” Shinsou mumbled, not trusting his face to be a normal color again.

“What if I tell you,” he heard Kaminari swallow, “that your stove stopping to work wasn’t a mistake?”

Shinsou felt all his reservation leaving him with a heavy sigh. He turned back toward Kaminari who looked at him with wide eyes, an unsure smile on his lips.

“You win, Kaminari.” Shinsou watched as Kaminari’s eyes squinted at him, thinking about what he meant. So, Shinsou made it a little easier for him.

He raised both his hands to Kaminari’s face, cupping his cheeks and caressing them with his thumbs. Feeling the skin under his hands turn hot and red, and seeing Kaminari’s lips part in surprise, Shinsou was this close to just getting up and leaving his own apartment. This was taking years off of his life.

“I’m going to kiss you now. Any objections?” Shinsou half-whispered, not trusting his own voice.

Kaminari shook his head in between his hands and that was all he needed to know. Shinsou leaned in, guiding their lips together. Both their lips were greasy from the food, tasting like the last dish the other ate, and so unbelievably warm.

Kaminari let out a quiet sigh, leaning closer and Shinsou felt his hands starting to tremble again. But then Kaminari’s hands were on top of his own, squeezing them reassuringly to calm him down. And it helped. Shinsou let out his breath he didn’t realize he was holding in through his nose, holding the kiss for a couple of seconds longer before slowly breaking apart.

“I think I just short-circuited.” Kaminari mumbled, snorting at his own joke.

“You say that as if you don’t have any wires loose anyway.”

“Wow, that was bad,” he snorted again.

“But you laughed.”

“Because it was so bad!”

“Just shut up.”

“Make me.” Kaminari wiggled his eyebrows, trying to hold back a grin.

“And that wasn’t bad?”

“Shinsouuuu,” Kaminari whined mockingly, so naturally Shinsou let him suffer for a couple of seconds longer before he leaned back in again himself.

#Boku no Hero Academia #fyeahbnhasecretsanta #ShinKami #Shinsou Hitoshi #Kaminari Denki #fanfiction

11 notes · View notes