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atinymonster · 4 years ago

Text

tears and kisses

ateez 9th member.

when jiyu and sunwoo are given the chance to make up with one another.

the way i sort of got carried away but hehe it’s okay 🥺

➴ taglist: @banhmi07, @jiyeons-closet, @jaeminpeachy, @mochibabycakes, @euphoriamingi, @marsophilia, @goddessofdestructionbeast, @studioreader, @dkdlwhs12

➴ masterlist

"Wait, this is a horrible idea, Eric.”

“No it’s not, calm down Sunwoo. You look like you’re about to puke,” Eric rolled his eyes at his friend’s dramatics.

“Because I am!” Sunwoo whisper-shouted as to not distract their manager who was currently driving them.

A week had passed with no signs of reconciliation between Jiyu and Sunwoo. Which meant a week of Eric and the other boys dealing with a sulking and brooding Sunwoo who scrambled for his phone at every notification that he received. Even during the live broadcast for Kingdom, his members could tell how much he wanted to approach Jiyu, but his hesitance held him back.

Eventually, he decided enough was enough for the sake of not only Jiyu and Sunwoo, but for the sanity of everyone else who so desperately wanted the two to make up.

“Alright guys, we have a plan!” Eric and Haknyeon suddenly declared in the middle of their dorm living room.

“What plan?” Hyunjae asked before a lightbulb went off in his head. “Oh, for our brooding rapper over there?”

Eric nodded. “Precisely.”

Sunwoo rolled his eyes, yet he couldn’t ignore the small spark of hope that ignited in his chest. He had been wracking his brain all day for the past week on how to apologize to Jiyu, but he was afraid she was still angry with him despite her small smiles and encouragement towards him during the recent Kingdom live broadcast.

“I texted Wooyoung, and he said everyone else was willing to help us. Without Jiyu’s knowledge of course.”

“What if she’s still angry at me?” Sunwoo groaned, burying his head into his hands. The closer they were to arriving at KQ, Sunwoo felt the stress and anxiousness weighing down on him even more.

Eric stifled his chuckles. According to Wooyoung, Jiyu worried about the exact same thing, which was the main reason why neither of them were able to make the first move to reconcile. “Wooyoung told us Jiyu wasn’t angry anymore. He said she was feeling regretful if anything.

And he was right. Despite Jiyu’s attempts to try and act like her normal, everyone could tell her mind was elsewhere with the amount of spacing out she’s done.

The recent offline fansign they had was the hardest for her, having adorable comments about Sunwoo being thrown at her so often. All she could do was smile as a response, even if all she wanted to do was break down and cry. The boys all took turns looking out for her, and they felt a pang of guilt whenever they overheard an ATINY talk to her about Sunwoo.

But what could they do? Nothing. Jiyu had told them numerous times that she didn’t want to raise any suspicions, and that she didn’t want to bring the mood down since it was their first time seeing ATINY in person after a whole year.

The boys hated seeing her so lifeless and saddened when they didn’t have any schedules, so when Wooyoung received a text from Haknyeon asking for their cooperation in getting the two together again, he wasted no time informing the others (minus Jiyu) and gaining their approval.

“So what choreography are we learning today?” Jiyu asked, plopping down onto the floor while waiting for Wooyoung to choose a song on the practice room monitor.

Every so often on their free days, the two would take the time to learn another group’s dance together for fun and to keep their dance skills sharp. Not that Jiyu minded; dance was an escape for her, and she could really use a dance session at the moment to clear her head.

Wooyoung knew that, so he used the dance session as a way to try and lift her spirits, as well as a way to keep her in the room so she didn’t bump into Sunwoo prematurely.

“I’ll teach you Don’t Call Me! I need a buddy to dance with and we can record it to show ATINY later,” he answered, peeking at his phone every so often to keep an eye out for a text from one of the others to let him know when Sunwoo would arrive.

[hongjoong] is everything okay so far?

[wooyoung] yep! she’s still with me in the dance room :)

[san] great! now let’s all pray the two of them make up soon...i don’t like seeing baby monster so sad :(

[yeosang] yeah, it’s weird when she’s all frowning and not her usual bubbly self

[hongjoong] i know, it’s weird not having her voice resonate through the dorm everyday...

[hongjoong] anyways, we’ll direct sunwoo to practice studio 2, so send jiyu there too when we text you again later

“Who are you texting?”

Wooyoung felt his heart stop the moment he looked up and saw that she was about to peer over and read the text messages. Turning off his phone, his mind was scrambling for a valid excuse.

“Nothing, San just started spamming me with messages again,” he chuckled, letting out a discreet sigh of relief when she believed him. “Come one, let’s start!”

Jiyu’s ability to quickly pick up choreography was both a blessing and a curse. This was one of the rare times where Wooyoung found it a curse. She was able to learn the first verse all in ten minutes, and Wooyoung only learned up to the end of first chorus to teach her. At this rate, they were most likely going to finish before Sunwoo even arrived.

“Okay, let’s take a break? I’m sure your body still hurts from practicing for Kingdom.” Wooyoung said, trying to mask how frantic he was. Luckily, she agreed, sliding down the wall and resting her head in his shoulder before letting out a sigh.

“Feeling okay?” he asked, patting her head.

“If I’m being honest, not really. I just...miss him,” she quietly admitted, her chest tightening as various emotions began to overtake her mind. She never talked to any of the boys about how she was really feeling, not wanting to burden them with her personal problem. While she was extremely grateful that they tried everything within their power to cheer her up, she didn’t want them to feel obligated to stick with her every second of the day just to make sure she was okay.

Wooyoung bit his lip. He felt a sense of guilt for not being able to tell her that Sunwoo was on his way over as they spoke. “Do you want to talk to him?”

Jiyu touched her now-empty wrist, missing the weight of the bracelet that she had thoughtlessly left behind at Sunwoo’s studio. “I won’t lie, I do want to talk to him again...but does he want to talk to me is the real question.”

Before he could reply, he heard his phone’s ringtone go off—his cue to send Jiyu to meet Sunwoo. His heart started to pound in anticipation for the moment they’ve all been waiting for. Fishing out his phone from his jacket pocket, he couldn’t stop the small smile that spread across his face, a smile that didn’t go unnoticed by Jiyu.

“San again?” she giggled, completely unaware of who and what was waiting for her just down and around the corner of the hall.

“No, uh, Seonghwa hyung wanted to do a VLIVE, but the wifi connection’s acting up again. Can you run over to practice studio 2 and help him out?” he asked, mentally apologizing to Seonghwa for hinting that he was an old man for not knowing how to fix a simple wifi connection (when in reality, he most likely knew how).

He must’ve been blessed with luck for the day because Jiyu agreed without hesitation or suspicion, mumbling about how she swore she showed him how to reset it a few weeks ago.

A few minutes after she left, the practice room door opened and the others, along with Eric, quietly filed into the room to join Wooyoung in anxiously waiting for the outcome of their little plan.

“Mission accomplished!” Yunho whisper shouted with a little grin.

“We can’t say that yet. Not until we know if they made up or not,” Seonghwa reminded. Deep down, he was worried for Jiyu. Should the outcome be one that they weren’t hoping for, he knew Jiyu would be strong, accept the results, and push through. But how would she really feel deep down?

It was a mutual concern of their’s. They knew Jiyu would never want to worry them, they knew she’d just keep how she really felt to herself if things went downhill, so they really hoped with all their heart that everything would turn out alright for her. She couldn’t lose another person she loved, it wouldn’t be fair for her.

While the boys were waiting in the practice room, Jiyu made her way down to the studio. It was odd, Seonghwa never mentioned anything about a VLIVE today, but given how often she’s spaced out the past few days, she wouldn’t be surprised if his notification went in one ear and out the other.

“Seonghwa? I thought I showed you how to reset the wifi—”

The words died in her throat when she opened the door and instead of seeing Seonghwa, she saw the one person she’s been missing like crazy. She was convinced it was a hallucination that her mind had conjured, or that she was dreaming.

“No, no, shut up mind, you’re not doing this to me right now,” she mumbled to herself with her eyes closed, about to close the door and open it again in hopes that she’d see Seonghwa instead of Sunwoo sitting at the monitor table.

“Hey, hey.”

Before she could close the door, Sunwoo held it open before pulling her inside and closing the door.

And that’s when it hit her that he wasn’t a hallucination. She felt the warmth of his hand on her’s when he pulled her in, and she felt his body’s warmth and his breath on her shoulder when he pulled her in for a hug the second the door closed.

Sunwoo noticed how she tensed when he brought her into his arms, and a pang of sadness shook within his chest. “I’m sorry,” he mumbled, feeling his eyes water. He tightened his hold on her, afraid that she would disappear if he loosened his grip.

Feeling his body tremble, her arms moved on their own, gingerly wrapping themselves around him and her hands drawing small, comforting circles on his back. Tears pricked at her own eyes but she refused to let them fall.

Basking in the warmth of each other’s arms, no words were exchanged. They just silently rocked side-to-side as Jiyu tried to comfort the boy in her arms.

Despite her calm exterior, she was a mess on the inside. Her heart was pounding in her chest from having the presence and warmth of her beloved back while her mind tried to find the words to say.

“I’m sorry, too,” she managed to say even though her voice started to crack from trying to keep her tears in. There were so many things she wanted to say, but she couldn’t bring herself to.

Lifting his head from her shoulder, tearily chuckled before bumping foreheads with her. “Hey, don’t cry.” he mumbled, feeling his heart break at the sight of her crying. He’d never seen her cry before, not even on the night of their fight.

But his words seemed to only encourage her tears and before she realized, she felt the tears slipping down her cheeks and the small sobs wracking through her body. She felt relief crash into her; relief that this all wasn’t a hallucination or a dream, and relief that he wasn’t there to break up with her.

Sunwoo sniffled before stroking her cheek to wipe away the river of tears, all while gently shushing her and whispering words of comfort. Once he felt her breath start to even out again, he guided her to the chairs and sat her down in one while he sat on the other. Jiyu couldn’t look at him, but the tight grip of her hands on his conveyed everything.

“I’m sorry for that night,” he quietly said, rubbing circles on the back of her hand with his thumbs, “I should’ve just asked you about it rather than assume and take out my anger on you like that. And—”

He paused, feeling his throat tighten as he remember all the horrible words he said. “I’m sorry for accusing you of being unfaithful. I really don’t think of you like that, I swear.”

Jiyu cupped his face in her hands and raised his head so he was looking at her. His bambi eyes were now filled with tears again, and it sent ripple of sadness throughout her chest. “It’s okay, I forgive you,” she cooed, using her thumbs to wipe away the stray tears that escaped his eyes.

“And I’m sorry for lashing out at you, too...and for saying things would’ve been better if we broke up.”

Sunwoo didn’t respond, but the way he nuzzled his face further into her hands answered for him, and she let out a little giggle. He felt the corners of his lips tug upwards at the sound of her laughter; he had terribly missed the sound.

Another moment of silence passed before Jiyu started to speak again. “My brother’s my only family left.”

Sunwoo’s eyes widened before they wandered to find her own. Taking her hands away from his face and resting them on his own again, she took a deep breath before continuing. “My parents died in an accident when I was three. Jiyong and I were the only survivors so we were sent to Guangzhou to live with our grandparents. That’s why we’re so affectionate with each other...we’re all we have left here in Korea.”

No matter how many times she spoke of her family, it never got easier. There was still the stinging pain in her chest, the guilt she carried around for years always started to resurface, and the anxious feeling that the person would think less of her when they found out about her broken family.

But Sunwoo just brought her in for the tightest hug he’s ever given her and buried his face into the crook of her neck. He knew she didn’t tell him that to make him feel worse about himself, but it still broke his heart when he realized he had accused her of cheating when in reality, she was with the only family she had left.

Countless apologies left his lips as Jiyu carded her fingers through his curly hair. No matter how many times he heard her whisper that it was okay, it didn’t ease the guilt that consumed his mind.

“I told you because I trust you. You didn’t even know, so please don’t blame yourself.”

It took a few minutes for her to soothe him, but she didn’t mind. She missed hugging him, she missed feeling his body against her’s, she just missed him. Too busy caught up in her thoughts, she missed how he fumbled around for something in his pocket before feeling a cold sensation wrap around her wrist. Looking down, she couldn’t control the smile that grew on her face when she saw the familiar white bracelet.

“I think this belongs to you, lovebug” he chuckled, satisfied when he saw a genuine smile instead of the forced ones she gave him during the live broadcast.

Her heart swelled with happiness at the nickname that she thought she’d never be able to hear again. “Thank you, sunshine,” she returned the nickname, an indirect reassurance that they were okay, that everything was okay.

With him still hugging onto her, she leaned down to place a quick kiss on his cheek, laughter rumbling from her chest when he started pouting and claiming she missed.

“I don’t think I missed, Woo—”

Before she could even finish, she felt him swiftly readjust their position so that he was pressing her against the chair, his hands firmly pressed onto the armrests to keep himself up. “I think you did, love,” he smirked before leaning down and pressing his lips against her’s.

It wasn’t their first kiss, but she still felt the volcano of butterflies erupting, fluttering around in her stomach. She wrapped her arms around his neck when one of his hands gently grabbed onto the side of her neck.

Pulling away, Sunwoo placed one last kiss onto her forehead before getting up and offering his hand out to her. “Come on, let’s go tell everyone the good news,” he giggled. It always threw her in for a loop at how he could switch from looking like he wanted to devour her back to an adorable puppy in a few seconds, (although Sunwoo could say the same about her).

Taking his hand and letting him hoist her up, she held him back before he could walk towards the door. Looking back and cocking his head to the side, he swore his heart almost stopped when she smiled up at him.

“I love you, sunshine,” she said, her aura resembling a puppy that had it’s tail happily wagging.

Eyes filled with adoration and affection, he smiled before leaning down to peck her lips one last time. “I love you, too lovebug.”

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cupidsintern · 4 years ago

Text

wyd?

modern au, established relationship, i think nancy's gay

Steve’s on TikTok when the text comes in. He’s doing better lately, good enough that he can get baked by himself and not worry about spiraling. Instead he made a peanut butter marshmallow sandwich and listened to his most recent playlist all the way through like eight times and texted Robin for a while- she’s visiting family, lots of ‘Steve pls come rescue me pls ’- and now he’s on TikTok.

It’s not late-late. But it’s not early. And he knows Nancy and Jonathan are having issues- he heard about it from the kids who don’t get that gossip is not helpful to feelings- but he didn't know they went on a break. Until he gets the text.

10:46pm - 1 New Notification

Nancy Wheeler: Hey

Typing…

Nancy Wheeler: Haven't talked in a while. How are you?

Steve clicks the notif bar. He stares at the text. It’s not like he never talks to Nancy. She’s just not Baby <3 in his phone anymore. Hasn't been for a while. He used to wonder what Jonathan put her as in his phone.

Steve can scroll up to see previous texts- Hey i had a doctors appointment during third did you get the homework outline? And Lucas left his water bottle at our house! Mike has it with him

And, more recently: Happy Birthday! Hope it's a good one :)

But this feels different. This singular ‘hey’ in its own grey bubble kind of puts Steve on edge. He doesn't respond right away, figures he should text Robin to ask if he’s just being paranoid first but- shit she went to sleep didn't she. And while he’s typing out a “Hey when you wake up” message to Robin he gets another notif.

Nancy Wheeler: Jonathan and I are on a break

Then,

Nancy Wheeler: Sorry, I probably shouldn't be texting you haha. Just wanted some company i guess

Steve feels a hot flash of anger. Rolling in his stomach like lava. Jesus he’s too high to be this angry.

He picks up his phone again.

Types out “fuck you” and deletes it and then “thats understandable but maybe you should text one of your other friends” and then deletes it and then types out “why are you texting me we're not friends" and then deletes it and then-

Clicks back, scrolls down, and texts Billy.

You: R u still awake?

Steve gets a response within seconds.

Billy <3: aw do u miss me or smth?

Billy <3: gay

That makes Steve smile. Makes the anger cool down considerably, and he sits up a bit in bed.

You: Yes but also

You: Nancy texted me?

Billy <3: about what

Billy <3: about how she broke up with Jonathan?

You: H o w do you already know that

Billy <3: i know everything. Why’d she text you??

Steve gets another notif from Nancy. He doesn't want to open it.

Luckily, he doesn't have to right away. Billy calls him.

“No one’s home.” Is Billy's opener. “Speak freely.”

“Good evening to you too.” Steve says, relieved to have the sound of Billy’s voice to lean into.

“So what does Wheeler want?”

Steve’s thumb hesitates over the notif bar.

“She said her and Jonathan are on a break and she ‘wants company.’”

“Wow.” Steve can hear poorly concealed jealousy in Billy’s words. “That’s. Wow.”

“Don’t be j-”

“I’m not jealous.”

“Oookay.” Steve laughs a little. He still hasn't opened Nancy’s text.

“Are you going to respond?”

“No fucking way, man-” Steve starts, then another text.

Unread message: I need someone to talk to. I don’t know who else I could ask.

Steve’s brow furrows.

“What happened?” Comes Billy’s voice.

“She, uh.” Steve opens the chat finally. “Hang on.”

You: Hey

You: Seems like you're in a tough spot. Not sure I’m the right guy. Maybe you could talk about it with a closer friend?

Nancy: That’s just it.

Nancy: I don’t have any friends.

Nancy: I have no one else. Johnathon was the last person left I was close with and i fucking blew it. I have no idea what to do i'm lost and confused and i just really really could use someone to talk to.

Typing...

Nancy: Please

“Babe?” Billy again. “Yeah,” Steve exhales. “Nancy, uh. Sounds pretty bad actually.”

“She reeling you in with that act?”

“I don’t think it’s an act, Bills.” Steve sits up straighter. “Something’s wrong.”

He’s typing out a vague enough response when the next text comes in.

Nancy: I think I'm gay

Then-

Nancy: Can I call you?

I think I’m gay.

That’s. Okay. That’s… something. Something that kind of makes sense now that Steve thinks about it, connects a lot of dots Steve didn't know were floating around but.

Jesus, Nancy must be having a heart attack.

“Billy, I have to call you back.” Steve says, then realizes the kind of push back he’s going to get on that.

“Call me back?” High and mighty already. “You can't just ditch me with a ‘call you back’ when your ex is actively weedling her way-”

“She’s not weedling. She’s not doing well and she has no other friends.” Silence. “Please don’t pout-”

“I’m not pouting.”

“Aw,” Steve leans his head into the receiver a little. “If I say you look cute when you pout, will that hurt or help my case?”

“Hurt.”

“Ok, I promise I’ll call you back right after I talk to her.”

“You fucking better.”

Steve says “I love you” before he gets off the phone and is medium relieved to hear Billy say it back.

Steve calls Nancy. She takes a while to pick up. When she does, he can tell she’s been crying.

“You didn’t have to call.” Is the first thing she says. She sniffs right at the end.

“Seemed like you were having. A rough night.” Steve says. Her text hasn't fully sunk in, he’s thinking about all the times she called him crying. How they got more frequent right before the end.

“I shouldn't have bothered you, I’m sorry, you can go.” Nancy’s voice builds a little. She sounds frantic.

Steve can’t really feel soft feelings about Nancy cause all of them just piss him off or ice his blood but. He’s worried. “No, no it’s-” Then Steve hears the background noise. “Dude, are you driving?”

“I- w- yeah.” Nancy sounds a little defensive.

“Oh my god.”

“I just needed to clear my head! I know I shouldn’t have called it just…”

Steve steeled himself for the words he knew were about to come out of his mouth. No matter how much of a hothead Steve could be (not as much as Billy but still), he was still a total pushover about shit like this. “Do you. Want to come over?” Steve asked stiltedly. “If you're, you know, already driving around.”

Nancy sounded relieved when she said yes.

When Steve got outside to meet Nancy’s mom’s car’s headlights, it was raining.

“Hey,” was the first thing he said when she walked up.

Looking at Nancy doesn't do much to Steve anymore. Not the way it used to. Not the way looking at Billy does now.

Looking at Billy feels how Steve assumes people in the way-back-when felt when color TV was invented.

Nancy looks as washed out as Steve thinks she feels.

“Hi.”

“You wanna come in?”

Nancy hesitates. “I don’t. Want to impose.”

“It’s raining, Nance.”

She looks surprised, like she didn't notice. “Oh.” then. “Okay.”

Steve steps back as Nancy walks onto the smooth tile right in front of the front door. It’s quiet enough after the door closes Steve thinks he can hear her hair dripping onto the ground.

“So,” Steve says after a bit. “Did you-”

“I’m sorry.” Nancy says suddenly. But it’s not the panicked little “sorry’s” from earlier, it’s a single, earnest one.

“For what?” “Everything.” More tears are streaming down her cheeks now. “I know I shouldn't have bothered you, I didn’t- I wasn’t a good girlfriend. Or a good friend. I just. I thought maybe I would know who I was if someone else did, but I didn't. And I don’t have anyone else, and I remember when- when you told me you were bi when we were dating and I was weird about it but now i think I was just jealous- because- bec-” Nancy cut herself off, unable to keep going with the tears closing up her throat.

Steve swallowed pretty hard. “Because. You think, you’re gay?”

Nancy sat down on the floor.

“The floors all wet-”

“I know, Steve.” Nancy cut him off gently. He was familiar with the tone.

Steve looked at her, looked at the floor, and opted to sit next to her. The rain was hitting harder on the door behind them.

Nancy didn't seem like she had anything more to say. Steve tried to think of something to ask.

“Why, uh. Why do you think you are?”

“I don’t know if I am.” She said quickly.

“Why do you think you might be?”

She sighed, pushed the wet hair off her face. “You don’t have to talk to me about this. I figure it probably doesn't feel good to hear.”

Steve hadn't thought of that. If Nancy is gay, that means she probably wasn't ever actually into him. Not just after a while, but from ‘go,’ it wasn't the same for her.

“Not great.” Steve admitted. “But. It isn't about me.”

Nancy sighed again. “Why are you so nice?” She mumbled. “Both you and Jonathan.” Then she teared up again.

“I thought maybe.” Nancy started up after clearing her throat. “That I didn’t… feel as much because. I was just with the wrong person.” She glanced sideways, clearly feeling worse with every word. “But. I didn’t. I just. I felt the same. Like something was missing.”

“You always feel like that?” Steve was kind of surprised. “Like, with every relationship?”

“Romantic ones, yeah.”

The rain got louder again. “I was…” Nancy fought to say the next words. “I didn’t always feel like that.”

“With us?” Steve hopes a little. “Or with Jonathan?”

Nancy speaks a little softer, like it will soften the blow to Steve, to herself. “...With Barb.”

Billy was going to give Steve so much shit for falling for Robin and Nancy since it sounded like they were both gay. He already had gotten shit about Robin. “This is a problem unique to bisexuals.” had been Billy’s quip.

Nancy talked a bit more easily after that one admission. About why Barb's death hit her so hard. About why she felt bad for hurting Steve, how confused she was, how alone.

How she pushed everyone away except whoever held the position of boyfriend because she didn't ever feel right around people. But boyfriend seemed. Normal.

Steve was pretty familiar with feeling like he Should Do whatever was ‘normal.’ His parents weren’t exactly pleased when ‘being bi’ turned out to be an actual thing and not just a family conversation they could keep pretending they didn't have.

Nancy was crying again. Said she was sorry again.

Steve hugged her.

It was pretty awkward. He was trying not to touch her too much and her hair got his sweater wet, but she tucked her face against his chest like she always used to.

Something about that clicked. How hugs had always felt closer for them than kisses. How maybe they had been meant to be friends, and just misread the signs.

Maybe they could be friends now. Maybe.

Nancy pulled away and wiped her nose. “Thank you.”

“Yeah.”

Steve checked his phone to let Nancy fix her face a little and then winced at the sheer volume of messages from Billy that popped up on his screen.

“What’s up?’ Nancy asked, leaning back over.

“Oh, just Billy.”

“Oh god,” Nancy grimace. “He can’t have been pleased I came over.”

Steve opened the messages. “He’s not. But I told him it was important.” “You can. Tell him.” Nancy said tentatively. “If you want. About what we talked about. About me.” Billy was gonna get a kick out of this. But Steve felt more somber about it than Billy probably would.

It was weird.

He’d been in Nancy’s shoes. But he’d also been completely in love with her. So at once he was hurt and sympathetic.

But he also felt. Better.

Something about the two of them, Steve and Nancy, always seemed. Unfinished.

This was probably the close out they needed.

“I should call Billy back.”

“Of course.” Nancy looked almost embarrassed. “I can go-”

“Nah, stay a bit.” Steve was standing up, unlocking his phone to a slew of “wheeler has been on my shit list from day ONE” and “i know you’d never cheat like i know that i'm not crazy but my therapist said.” Makes Steve smile at his phone. “‘I'll make you tea or something."

#i just! think nancy is a lesbian #shes not been Great to either of her bfs #so maybe theres a good reason!#nancy wheeler #steve harrington #billy hargrove #steve x billy #billy x steve #harringrove #harringrove fanfic #background harringrove #my fic

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haikyuuthots · 4 years ago

Text

You know I’m just a flight away - Tobio Kageyama

Pairing: reader x Kageyama

Warnings: some curse words, suggestive language but nothing happens.

Word count: 1.4K

Song to listen to while reading: Telepatía by Kali Uchis.

Summary: it’s Valentine’s Day and your boyfriend is miles away. Alone and upset, you weren’t expecting a surprise from him.

A/n: this is heavily inspired by Telepatía, if u listen while reading it will be a whole vibe I promise!! I love Kali and recently this song has been blowing up so I decided to write something about it. Also, a late Valentine’s gift from me to you. Enjoy besties! 💕

Masterlist

—————————————————————————

(Found the image on Pinterest, all credit goes to original artist! ✨)

Being away from your boyfriend had to be the hardest part of his job. Kageyama being a professional athlete meant that he had to travel occasionally for tournaments and so, but even then it never got easier being away from your boyfriend for several weeks.

Kageyama felt the same, he wished he could be with you every second of every day, in fact he once begged you to quit your job so you could travel with him freely. Although you loved him you kindly declined, because you loved your job, and loved making your own money. He of course understood your reasoning and never asked further.

Kageyama was in Brazil at the moment while you were back home in your comfortable apartment. It was February 12th and Kageyama wouldn’t be back til the 20th. You were a bit sad at the fact you’d be spending Valentine’s Day separated from your boyfriend.

You were currently on FaceTime with him, his beautiful face taking up the screen

“Have you eaten yet?” He asked curiously

“Yeah earlier. I really miss you Tobio.” You pout a bit

He sighs briefly at his phone “i miss you too baby, i want to be near you so bad.”

“You know I’m just a flight away.” You smile at your phone,

He chuckles at your response “I know. And I’m planning on catching that flight as soon as I can.”

“But you know what crazy babe?”

“What?” He asks curiously as he raises his eyebrows a bit

“We’re connected. I can feel you, even though we’re miles apart.”

He smiles once again as he watches you speak “you’re so cheesy.”

You laugh at his response “wow way to kill the mood.”

“I’m sorry baby.” He chuckles out “but I know what you mean, I feel you too. Anywhere I go, you’re always with me.”

You slightly blush at his words “look who’s being cheesy now.”

“Fuck I miss you. Your pretty face, your smile. He pauses for a second “your body, your touch.”

You laugh “there it is. I already knew where you were going with that. I can read you mind.”

“I wanna see you.” He cuts you off

“You are seeing me.” You respond, you knew exactly what he meant but you decided to feign oblivion

“No, i wanna see YOU.” He repeats sounding a bit more persistent now.

You were always willing to give Kageyama what he wanted, you had no problem with it, but you thought it’d be interesting to tease him a bit.

“Well Maybe...” you begin speaking as you slightly remove one strap from your top “if you caught a private plane and flew back here.” You continue talking as you take the other strap off “I’d show you more.” You finish off your sentence and as you do you place your shirt back to normal.

Kageyama who was already getting into your little show, lets out a frustrated sigh “that’s fucked up baby.”

You’re laughing at his frustrated expression “maybe. But God what I’d give to have you in front of me. I know I’d blow your mind away.”

“You can still blow my mind away from here!” He quickly responds

“It’s not the same.” You laugh.

His frustrated face relaxes a bit as he watches you laugh. Smirking to himself he responds “keep laughing. You won’t be when I see you again.”

“I have 8 days to prepare.”

He laughs at your response , looking at the time he frowns a bit

“Well I have to go baby, it’s late and I have to train early tomorrow.”

You pout through your phone, your entire demeanor switching, his words saddening you a bit. “Okay.” You say, a bit more quietly

“I love you and I’ll see you soon.” He says as he smiles,

“Not soon enough.” You mumble out

“Very soon baby, I promise, now don’t be sad and let me see that pretty smile of yours before I go.”

You couldn’t help but smile at his words, he always knew what to say to bring your spirits up.

“I love you too babe. I can’t wait to see you.”

And with that you say your final goodbyes and hang up, missing him instantly as you do.

>>> fast forward to February 14th>>>>

You woke up the morning of Valentine’s Day, you were expecting to find a cute text form Tobio in the morning, considering the fact that his time zone was ahead of yours, but you didn’t find anything. A bit confused, you furrow your eyebrows at your empty notifications, you decide not to think anything of it and text him first. Wishing him a happy Valentine’s Day, saying you wish you were together. As you hit send you put your phone down to continue with your morning routine.

Now hours later, it’s is 6 pm and you had still not received a word from Tobio. You were beyond pissed, he’d never ignored you for an entire day before. And the fact that he was doing it today in particular pissed you off even more. You had no idea why he wasn’t answering your calls or messages, but at this point you didn’t want to care anymore.

Alone and upset you head over to your bedroom trying your best not to cry you flip through your Instagram, becoming even more sad as you see all the happy couples on your feed. You’re subtly wiping away your tears, when you start to receive a call on your phone. It’s your best friend, you try to regain your composure so you can answer

“Hello?”

“Happy Valentine’s y/n. I know Kageyama is out of town so I wanted to bring you something. Come downstairs!”

You smile at her words, beyond grateful to have a friend like her “thanks Jaz, but can you just leave it at the door?? I feel kinda shitty right now.”

“Aww no come on girl, i know this will help you feel a lot better.”

You consider it for a couple seconds before you respond “okay I’ll be right there.”

You get dressed in comfortable clothes and apply a bit of makeup to hide the fact that you were crying, before you head downstairs.

Making your way outside. Your heart stops at the sight in front of you.

Kageyama is standing there. Holding a giant bouquet of your favorite flowers and gifts surrounding him.

You’re frozen for a moment before you can fully comprehend what was going on, when you do you instantly run into your boyfriends arms, crying from happiness.

Kageyama gladly takes in your embrace. Squeezing you tightly, as he speaks

“Happy Valentine’s Day y/n.”

Still crying a bit you begin talking too “omg Tobio. I can’t believe you’re here.” You nuzzle your face further into his neck. You quickly pull away from him and lightly punch him on the arm

“Ow” he chuckles out

“You asshole. I was crying all day because you didn’t talk to me.”

He leans down to wipe your tears away. “Aw I’m sorry, I was on a plane almost all day, plus I wanted to surprise you.”

You head over to hug him again, this time leaning in to give him a long, passionate kiss.

Pulling away, he holds you once again as you both head into the apartment.

As soon as you make it in the house Kageyama smashes his lips onto yours once again, carrying you towards the couch. Sitting down he sits you on his lap as he continues kissing you. You’re breathless, kissing him as much as you could, you missed him very much

“Wait kags.”

“Hmm?” he lets out still kissing you in between

“What about your game?” You question

He stops kissing you briefly as he smiles “oh I lied. It was actually the 13th. So I had this planned out from the very beginning.”

You stare at him lovingly as you swoon, you couldn’t believe how incredibly lucky you were to have him. Your arms tighten around his neck as you bring him into a warm embrace

“I love you so much.”

“I love you too. And I missed you so much.” He responds

You knew you were incredibly grateful to call Kageyama your boyfriend, but today you learned that you were hopelessly, and utterly in love with that man, and you wouldn’t want anyone else but him. There was a telepathic bond that existed between you two, one that neither of you could explain, but both of you knew was there.

#haikyuu x reader #haikyuu #haikyuu blog #haikyuu imagines #haikyuu! x reader #haikyuu!!#haikyuu boys #haikyuu x y/n #kageyama tobio #kageyama x y/n #kageyama x reader #kageyama drabble #Kageyama Tobio imagine

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shoichee · 4 years ago

Note

Omgomg, congratsss on 200!!! You deserve all of ittt💕 could I have 15 for akashi pleasee? Thank youu!!

HI ANONIE, I’m flattered that you think that I have 200 REEEE but it’s actually just a 100 milestone hahahaha;; hope you’re lurking around on my blog rn and sorry it took a while, but without further ado.... i present to you

Akashi x Reader

15. “Stop pretending you’re okay, cause I know you’re not”

Word Count: 2696

prompt list here

Note: we need more boku-akashi, i repeat, we need more SCARY AKASHI (SHAMELESS plug of another boku-akashi fic i did here)

»»—————　☼　—————««

Everything changed after that violent rainstorm that day.

You did not know what happened in Teiko’s gymnasium that practice, but no matter how much you try to probe Momoi, Murasakibara, and even Kuroko about it on separate occasions, none of them seemed willing to divulge anything to you. It seems like everyone suddenly became a different person in just a single day, and you are left completely in the dark, grasping for nothing and having no clue what to do.

“H-haha…” Momoi nervously stammered. “Honestly, I think it was just a really bad day for everyone… I’m just concerned for Dai-chan…” And with that, you remember her dashing away to the stairs to cut the conversation short. You wonder what she meant about Aomine.

“Hnn,” Murasakibara hummed dismissively. “Practice is just getting annoying.” He never said anything more, and his silence spoke louder than words to you as he stared down at you with his peripheral vision: “leave now.” And so you reluctantly leave, your mind swirling with even more questions than you had prior.

“Ah…” Kuroko said. “Mm, well, I worry for our team… is all, but please don’t worry about us too much, (y/n)-san.”

“Kuroko?” you called out, deciding to drop the topic seeing his slight discomfort.

“Yes?”

“Do you know where Seijuro is?”

He flickered his gaze to the floor for a quick second before he returned his eyes to you.

“... I don’t know.”

“That can’t be helped,” you reassured him. “I’ll look for him myself. Thanks, Kuroko!” As you ran outside to head towards the gym, Kuroko stretched out his arm in a feeble attempt to stop you, but his fingers barely grazed your hair and ended up clasping air as he watched you with dread at the inevitable harsh truth you were about to encounter.

After all, who had the heart to tell you that Akashi Seijuro wasn’t as he seemed this entire time?

Gasping for air as you creak the bulky doors open, you immediately notice the lack of lights turned on, with only the evening sunlight filtering through the foggy windows from the 2nd floor giving the gym its light source. Amidst the stretched shadows on the court, only Midorima stands alone with his basketballs, shooting constant half-court shots in complete silence. Akashi was nowhere to be found.

Noticing your presence, Midorima turns around irritated, ready to berate the offender who interrupted his practice before he registers that it was just you. He sighs and puts the basketballs back into their storage basket before he gives you his full attention.

“I’m assuming you are here for Akashi,” he says, pushing up his glasses that had been slowly sliding down his nose from the sweat.

“Yeah—”

“He’s not here, nanodayo. He already left a while ago. I’ve been given charge of locking up the gym for the night.”

“Is… that so?” you said, scratching the back of your neck. “Well… I guess it can’t be helped, right? So, aha… I’ll see you tomorrow practice then?” Midorima only gives you a firm nod before he turns around to start mopping up the gym floors. Not wanting to partake in the awkward, distant silence between the two of you, you promptly left the gym, taking extra care to close the doors quietly to not disturb the greenhead inside.

That was… odd, to say the least. Akashi has always waited for you to walk you home together. It wasn’t that he had to, but he’s always insisted on walking you out of concern for your safety and gently teasing you that he wanted to spend a little more time with you. It was simply a small custom you two shared over the year you were together. Even if he couldn’t make it, he would always let you know beforehand either personally or through calls and texts.

Your heart feels unbelievably heavy and you’re not quite sure why.

———

During times like these were when you really hated the fact that Akashi was in a different class than you. Your mind constantly drifts back to last night when you dialed him a few times to have a casual talk with him but received nothing but empty buzzes on his end. Figuring he was very busy, you decided to just go about your own schedules and send him a small text to him before you went to bed.

Seiji, I hope you’re not over-exerting yourself. I have many things to talk to you about, and I can’t wait to see you tomorrow. Goodnight!

But that morning, you checked your phone to find that there wasn’t a single notification from him. Opening the messages, you blankly stared at “Seen.” underneath your last text. And it hurt.

Even now, you still feel that you’re overreacting and jumping to conclusions way too fast over something so trivial. But he’s always made a point to communicate with each other, and if he was too tired or if he wanted to be left alone, he would’ve told you clearly. You have no one to confide in about your turmoil; you weren’t very close with the other “Generation of Miracles” and no one else knows Akashi better than them. It wasn’t a huge deal at all, yet why do you feel so afraid of what’s to come?

Your heart feels unbelievably heavy and you’re denying the possible reasons why.

“(y/n)-cchi?” Kise noticed you walking to no particular destination. “What are you doing here?” When you tell him that you’re looking for Akashi, Kise gives a strained smile as he pats your head in an almost consoling manner. “Haven’t seen the captain since practice two days ago.”

“Two days ago? Kise, did you forget there was practice yesterday?”

“Had a photoshoot, couldn’t make it,” he shrugs. “Besides, it’s not like I’m gonna be punished if I choose to ditch anyways.”

“Ditch?”

“Yep~ as long as we win our games, he doesn’t have a problem.”

“That… can’t be right.”

“Who knows what he’s thinking?” he sighs. “Geez, but he can really be scary, I don’t know how you’re dating him.” Kise turns to the vending machine behind him to slot in two coins for a soda. “Do you want one too?”

“Um, it’s okay,” you said, more fixated on his previous words. “Seijuro isn’t scary… he isn’t like that.” Kise turns around to face you again with a can in his hand, and he sighs before he tousles his own hair.

“I guess you know him better than I do, so maybe he was just having a bad day,” he says. “If you’re still looking for him try one of the empty classrooms, I’m sure he’s off playing some shogi by himself or with Midorimacchi.”

So here you are, scouring the hallways for all the empty rooms on all the floors, trying to find the redhead. When you find Midorima walking towards your direction in the hallway instead, you briskly walk to him to intercept his path.

“Sorry to bother you, Midorima-san,” you hurriedly say. “I know it’s been annoying to hear this but…” You pause, and Midorima instantly knew what you were going to inquire about.

“He’s down the hall to your left. Take the stairs and go straight ahead.” When you thank him profusely and start to head off, Midorima is still watching you from where he was standing.

“(y/n)-san.” At the call of your name, you stop to turn back to face Midorima from the end of the hallway. “Your sign is at the lowest of the luck rankings according to the Oha Asa today. Your lucky item is a dictionary, but I can only advise you to be careful.” You only answer him with an exasperated smile at his antics before you continue on your way.

As you rush to the room Midorima described about, you think of how you are going to confront Akashi. Were you going to chastise him for yesterday? Give him the biggest hug? Pout at him about how you miss him? Ask about his day? You shake your head and decide to just focus on looking for him first before anything else.

You wonder why he was here in the secluded part of the building. Did he often come here prior to today? You take a deep breath and sigh in relief in seeing your boyfriend through the door.

Smiling, you let yourself in before closing the door wordlessly.

“Seiji—”

“I’ve been expecting you, (y/n).” You freeze at the sheer coldness of his voice. There he was, back to you as he languidly sat on a chair with a knee propped up. He continues to clink his shogi pieces around the board as if your presence didn’t warrant his full attention. But there was no mistaking that it was, in fact, Akashi. Only he would have his uniform blazer so free of wrinkles and stains.

“Seiji… what’s wrong?” You approach him worryingly, extending your hand to him as you walk closer. But as you reach within hand’s grasp, your gut is screaming for you to stop and turn back, to run far, far away and never look back. You ignore your body. You know you’re just being overly antsy and jumpy from recent overthinking. “You were nowhere to be found at all yesterday, and I just… was so worried—and you didn’t even reply to me at all!”

“Those things are unnecessary. The only thing that matters is victory. Surely you know this, (y/n)?” Your hand freezes and drops to your side. He drops his propped leg from his chair before he turns his head to the side to eye your shocked expression. “Why do you look at me as such?”

“Seijuro,” you whisper. “What’s… what’s gotten into you? What happened at practice that day? Everyone’s been acting weird, and I don’t know why!...”

He moves his gaze back to his shogi pieces and starts toying with the wooden chips. “That day was when I realized that I was absolutely naive and foolish. Order and absoluteness cannot be contested and questioned. The winners can never be denied… That has always been the policy of Teiko’s basketball team. I have realized that in order to accommodate this, I must become absolute and ensure that this team will continue to contribute to its legacy. I am certain the others must have come to this conclusion as well.”

“Seriously, Seijuro,” you plead. “Talk to me, if there’s something troubling you, from basketball to your personal life, I’ll be there for you… so please… please don’t be so cold to me.”

“Me? Akashi Seijuro troubled by such trivial matters? Your assumptions are arrogant but amusing nonetheless.” Akashi stands up from his chair, leaving his shogi pieces unattended on the desk. He slowly strolls to you, his eyes boring holes through you from the unnerving intensity they exuded. You slowly back up instinctively, until your back hits the door. Akashi stops to stand a few feet in front of you, but his eye contact continues to be relentless in intensity. “Though, I must admit, there is one thing I’ve been pondering about, so you are correct that I do have something in mind.”

“W-what is it?...” You don’t know what else to say. What do you say to a stranger who has the physical appearance of your boyfriend? Can someone change that much in just a single day? This Akashi Seijuro… was now only the empty shell of the Seijuro you knew and loved for some time.

“It seems that in my naivete, I had decided to date someone like you, but I wondered what would happen if I told you about all these inevitable changes I will bring to ensure absoluteness. I wonder if you’re even essential in helping future victories come to fruition.”

“What are you trying to say?...” you say, your voice slightly peaking at the end. You wring your hands together in anxiousness as you try to hold back volatile emotions from becoming apparent on your face. Akashi continues to observe you with an impassive poker face. “I don’t… I don’t understand!... I’m the ‘trouble’ that’s on your mind?...”

Your heart feels unbelievably heavy and you’re afraid of the possible reasons why.

“Seijuro,” you start sniffling, cursing your emotional dams for cracking so easily. “You’re always like this, shouldering all the burdens of being president, captain, and top student… you always told me not to worry, yet you always insist on helping me out… could you just… stop pretending you’re okay, cause I know you’re not!?” You end your sentence in a frustrated shout, cheeks feeling hotter as you feel more tears sliding down.

Akashi flinches at your words and parts his mouth in mild surprise, but soon enough, he returns to his composed self, his eyes narrowing dangerously.

“It is clear that we are both at an impasse. You do not agree with me, and that is fine. However, you are not necessary in what I need to achieve anyways. Keeping you around will only hold me back.”

“N-no… are you saying that…”

“From now on, we are strangers, (y/n). This is a farewell.”

“S-Seijuro, wait! You can’t just decide for the both of us like that!” You step forward and try to reach for him in desperation, but before you can react, Akashi slaps your hand away and stares down at your pitiful state.

“Do not touch me so casually,” he coldly says. “And do not address me like that ever again. Know your place.” With that, he holds his head high as he promptly exits the room without sparing you a glance, leaving you and his shogi set behind.

“S-S-eiji…” you softly wail. You sink your body into a squat as you struggle to hold back unadulterated tears with your arms. “Wh-why? Why? Why, why, why?...” Every moment, every memory you shared with Akashi within the past year was nullified in just a span of a few minutes. Your life feels shattered right before your eyes as you can feel its fragments slipping through your fingers still, and it hurts. It hurts so badly, and you don’t know how you can face the Generation of Miracles from this point on without breaking into sobs. They all reminded you of him too much. But you knew that if you avoided them, they wouldn’t care too much; after all, you only knew them through Akashi. Now that your connection to him was severed, there was truly no reason to speak with them anymore.

You sniffle and stand up after several more minutes of quiet agony, and you look over to the desk where Akashi’s shogi pieces are. You bite your lip, trying to stop the fresh tears from coming. You give a shuddering exhale before you stretch out your hand, hesitating before you gingerly pluck a piece off the shogi board. If you couldn’t salvage the broken pieces from your relationship, perhaps this piece can be a substitute for all those fragments. Thumbing through the woodwork, you can still feel the remnants of his warmth moments before. At least this way, you still have a piece of him with you, even if you know you can no longer be by his side anymore, much less talk to him.

You debate with yourself to try to confide about this with someone from the Generation of Miracles, but as your eyes spot them, you can’t help but notice the cold and distant gazes they embody, and it only reminds you of what Akashi has become. For the rest of your Teiko years, you dutifully avoid having as many interactions as you can with them, especially when Kuroko inquires about your relationship with Akashi on a few occasions.

The next time you would see Akashi in close proximity is when you decide to come to watch the Winter Cup finals with a classmate friend, who insists you to come watch once they hear that you used to attend Teiko.

When you lay eyes on him again, your heart feels unbelievably heavy once again, even more so with Akashi’s shogi piece sitting in the pocket of your uniform button-up shirt.

#kuroko no basket #knb #knb fic #knb fics #akashi x reader #akashi seijuro #akashi seijuro x reader #akashi scenarios #teiko #teiko middle school #100 followers #100 follower milestone #knb scenarios #anon #bokushi #boku akashi

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shorkbrian · 4 years ago

Text

Give in to Love

so I have several thots about this. Like with Kiri, he would be like, relieved you’re being submissive but then he’d become like super depressed that you aren’t like idk seeming to live in your body, like you’re just a husk and he’d get so worried and sad and pamper you with so much love.

Yeah so aside from Kiri, a yan that I imagine this type of scenario is with someone like Victor Nikiforov from YOI

yes. This Bitch right here.

So first fucking off, he’s rich. Money is no problem for him.

Second off, he’s so confident that he would not hesitate to do whatever he wanted.

Third, he’s actually pretty kind (especially to pretty, vulnerable little things like you)

It’d probably start out with the man spilling coffee all over you or something SUPER cliche like that.

(Warnings - not much. NSFW but only the teeniest tiniest bit. barely even a mention. but obvs Yandere, dub con, dark content.)

He’s in a rush, he was bursting out of the coffee-shop, you just so happened to be walking by and in the direct path of the door and so smacks into you, knocking you onto your butt.

Immediately, you’re being helped up by a silver haired man, he’s apologizing heavily, patting your clothes into place, smoothing your hair, steadying you onto your feet. He’s so sorry, he didn’t even see you! And then the man stops, looks at you, smiles blindingly and blurts out that you’re pretty.

You’re understandably stunned. but you quickly just brush it off, his accent is foreign, it’s probably just a cultural thing.

Then he’s offering to buy you something to make up for him trying to give you a concussion, asking if you like coffee, sweets, maybe a sweater? You look cold.

And you’re just so tired, life is exhausting, you don’t really even care anymore what happens to you. You don’t protest as the man doesn’t wait for an answer, immediately grabbing your hand and marching you into the coffee shop he had just burst out of.

“Pick anything you’d like, my treat! An apology for not paying attention to such a beautiful thing.” He smiles, gesturing at the menu.

You study it for a second, but there’s too many choices, and it’d just be easier if you didn’t have to, and you’re so used to people telling you what to do and making decisions for you and you’re lost. Where do you even start?

After a few moments of silence, the man (who's been not-so-subtly watching you as you deliberate) speaks up. “Can I pick? I LOVE their raspberry cheesecake! So good!”

It sounds fine, and you’re somewhat relieved that he was going to choose, take the burden of responsibility off of your shoulders.

He buys one of the giant slices, ushers you to table, sits you down. The man watches you take a bite, his face lighting up and giving a little clap when you give a thumbs up. He has his own fork, and he takes bits and pieces here and there from the slice. While you eat, he talks.

His name is Victor, he’s from Russia, are you from around here? What’s your name?

“That’s such a pretty name!” He says your name once, twice, rolling it around in his mouth like it’s something to savor.

Victor is a ball of energy, confident, full of life. He’s frankly an intimidating man, with how attractive he is, the obviously expensive suit he wears, the way he dominates the conversation and expertly handles your awkward silences and uncomfortable pauses.

By the time you leave, he’s entered his number into your phone, quickly scrolling to find your own number (even though he was only supposed to put in his own - but you really didn’t care) and note it down.

You’re pretty sure he won’t actually be texting or calling you - he was just being polite, feigning interest in someone as boring and pathetic as yourself.

Lo-and-behold, that evening you get a notification that “Vitya! (:” has texted you.

Hello! Is your body feeling alright?

Immediately confused, you send out a reply

Who is this?

It’s Victor!!! From the coffeeshop, haha.

Oh, hi (: your contact name says “Vitya” lol what a typo

Not a typo, I like it when pretty girls call me Vitya (;

Baffled, you don’t reply, and no further messages are exchanged.

A few days go by, Victor texts you on the fifth day, asking if you wouldn’t mind recommending some fun local activities. You have to apologize - you don’t get out much, you’re sure there’s info online though.

Victor asks why you don’t go out, you decide to be blunt and succinctly explain the fatigue, you’re anxious, this is your first time being out on your own and you’re so used to other people dictating your life that it feels uncomfortable and wrong to be able to make decisions.

The man asks if you would go to that coffeeshop again with him. The switch of topic relieves you, but at the same time you’re frowning. You probably word-vomited all over him, complaining about your problems.

For some reason, you agree.

He meets you at the coffeeshop again, this time not even bothering to ask what you’d like to order. Victor just gets a few cookies, leads you to a table and plops down, spreading them in front of the two of you

“In case you don’t like one of them. And if you have allergies!”

You smile at his explanation.

Victor slowly becomes a constant in your life.

The texts turn into quick calls, inviting you places, begging you to come sit with him in the park, feed some pigeons. Go to the grocery store with him? He’s lonely, don’t make him go by himself!

Even if you refuse, you’re gently bullied into doing virtually everything he says. It’s not like you mind though, you’re used to it.

He starts showing up at your apartment, you aren’t even sure when you gave him your address, but now he invites himself inside.

The first time he had shown up, completely unannounced, you had protested only once before letting him in. You could tell he was scrutinizing your home, but what did it matter? Victor was wealthy, everything you owned seemed shabby and poor.

He came over most nights, sometimes bringing food, making you sit with him at your table and eat. Sometimes he brought a book, or his laptop, and quietly sat on your couch while you puttered around. He’d always get distracted from what he was reading though, chattering towards you about this or that or the other.

Victor was nice.

He made decisions for you, he made you eat, he quickly picked up on when you were too tired to function, when all you could do was collapse somewhere and fall asleep.

But Victor was also threatening.

If you tried refusing him too many times, or if you mentioned your coworker telling a funny joke (It’s not like he wasn’t funny, the joke was hilarious - Victor just didn’t seem to like it) Victor’s face would sour, eyebrows drawing low, a deep frown etched onto his face. HIs voice would take on a commanding tone, low, as if he was going to do something that neither of you would enjoy if he had to ask again.

It was scary sometimes.

But he had invaded your life, and you had stood by and idly watched. It’s not like you had put up a fight. You didn’t even know why he hung around you so, with the way you were constantly tired, moving through life like a zombie, sad and sleepy all the time.

Months passed and like every other year of your life, you could barely remember them slipping by. When had Victor become so comfortable in your apartment? It made you uncomfortable, but you were used to discomfort.

It came to a head when you retreated to your room for a nap, body sore and fatigued from merely existing. Victor followed you, nagging about wearing something cooler, to drink some water, how he heard about this new thing recently-

He followed you into your bed.

Like it was normal. Crawling under the covers with you, still maintaining a respectful distance, still talking. You were so tired, you didn’t care about how it made you uncomfortable.

When you woke up, he was curled around you, holding you tight. When you shifted, he had perked up, peeking around your shoulder to see your face. He had been awake the whole time, just chilling.

It was weird.

You were too tired to fight it.

Victor started paying for too much.

Of course it started small, as everything concerning Victor did. Sweets, small little gifts, occasionally a week’s worth of groceries.

Then it escalated. He was paying for your medications, for your therapies, for your health aids. He started trailing after you to doctor’s appointments, introducing himself as a concerned friend.

You knew this wasn’t good, wasn’t healthy. Something was wrong about this, but you just didn’t care. Something was always wrong, you were always being directed and pushed towards this or that. You just had to accept it.

Then Victor was paying your rent, buying you clothes (since when did friends buy each other underwear?) surprising you with bigger and more expensive gifts until you tried to put your foot down.

You had gotten a stern talking-to, treated like an ungrateful child. And maybe you were? Victor was doing so much for you, shouldn’t you just accept his care?

Victor suggested that you move into his house, since he practically lives at your little apartment anyways.

“My place is so much cozier! I have a fireplace, I miss it! I want to spend time with you but we could hang out in a more-” He looked around at your apartment “-comfortable place?”

You tried to argue, you did. But it took one disapproving glance from Victor and you were subdued, meekly agreeing to do whatever he wanted.

He called your landlord to terminate your lease. He helped you pack your clothes (that he had bought) into boxes (that he had bought) and arranged for your furniture (that he had bought, always complaining that your couch was bad for his back) to be sold.

Once moving in with him, he got more and more affectionate.

Right from the start, you quickly realized that Victor was very tactile-oriented. He wasn’t shy about physical touch, always wanting to hold hands or giving super long hugs, or begging to cuddle. He didn’t think it was weird, so you tried not to think so either.

Now that you were in his house, his gigantic, expensive house, Victor became even more physical. He showered you with kisses on the cheek, pressed to your forehead, on your shoulder, your neck when he curled around you at night (because of course you slept in the same bed. Victor had just laughed when you asked where your bedroom was)

Eventually, he kissed you on the mouth.

You were surprised, but you didn’t fight it. Why would you?

A heartfelt confession followed - how he had fallen in love with you at first sight, and how every day he fell more and more in love with you. You were his everything, the light of his life, he would die for you.

Don’t you feel the same?

You did, because that’s what Victor wanted to hear.

So now the two of you were dating, sharing kisses and intimate touches and eventually sharing bodies, letting him touch you even though it made your flesh crawl, touching him because he asked you to.

He provided everything, it was simpler just to do what he asked, what he desired. You didn’t even really mind being told what to do, what to wear, what and when to eat - it gave you a sense of comfort, knowing that you didn’t have to make decisions for yourself like that.

Victor would take care of you.

Even when you didn’t want him to

After all, it was simply easier to give in to love

#yandere victor nikiforov #yandere #victor #victor nikiforov #dark victor nikiforov

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blackwoolncrown · 3 years ago

Link

The defining feature of conversation is the expectation of a response. It would just be a monologue without one. In person, or on the phone, those responses come astoundingly quickly: After one person has spoken, the other replies in an average of just 200 milliseconds.

In recent decades, written communication has caught up—or at least come as close as it’s likely to get to mimicking the speed of regular conversation (until they implant thought-to-text microchips in our brains). It takes more than 200 milliseconds to compose a text, but it’s not called “instant” messaging for nothing: There is an understanding that any message you send can be replied to more or less immediately.

But there is also an understanding that you don’t have to reply to any message you receive immediately. As much as these communication tools are designed to be instant, they are also easily ignored. And ignore them we do. Texts go unanswered for hours or days, emails sit in inboxes for so long that “Sorry for the delayed response” has gone from earnest apology to punchline.

People don’t need fancy technology to ignore each other, of course: It takes just as little effort to avoid responding to a letter, or a voicemail, or not to answer the door when the Girl Scouts come knocking. As Naomi Baron, a linguist at American University who studies language and technology, puts it, “We’ve dissed people in lots of formats before.” But what’s different now, she says, is that “media that are in principle asynchronous increasingly function as if they are synchronous.”

The result is the sense that everyone could get back to you immediately, if they wanted to—and the anxiety that follows when they don’t. But the paradox of this age of communication is that this anxiety is the price of convenience. People are happy to make the trade to gain the ability to respond whenever they feel like it.

While you may know, rationally, that there are plenty of good reasons for someone not to respond to a text or an email—they’re busy, they haven’t seen the message yet, they’re thinking about what they want to say—it doesn’t always feel that way in a society where everyone seems to be on their smartphone all the time. A Pew survey found that 90 percent of cellphone owners “frequently” carry their phone with them, and 76 percent say they turn their phone off “rarely” or “never.” In one small 2015 study, young adults checked their phones an average of 85 times a day. Combine that with the increasing social acceptability of using your smartphone when you’re with other people, and it’s reasonable to expect that it probably doesn’t take that long for a recipient to see any given message.

“You create for people an environment where they feel as though they could be responded to instantaneously, and then people don’t do that. And that just has anxiety all over it,” says Sherry Turkle, the director of the Initiative on Technology and Self at the Massachusetts Institute of Technology.

It’s anxiety-inducing because written communication is now designed to mimic conversation—but only when it comes to timing. It allows for a fast back-and-forth dialogue, but without any of the additional context of body language, facial expression, and intonation. It’s harder, for example, to tell that someone found your word choice off-putting, and thus to correct it in real-time, or try to explain yourself better. When someone’s in front of you, “you do get to see the shadow of your words across someone else’s face,” Turkle says.

In last month’s viral New Yorker short story “Cat Person,” a young woman embarks on a failed romantic relationship with a man she meets at the movie theater where she works. They only go on one date in the story; they get to know each other primarily over text. When the affair ends messily, it reveals not only how the bubble of romantic expectations can be popped by reality’s needle, but also how weak digital communication is as a scaffolding on which to build an understanding of another person.

In an interview, the story’s author, Kristen Roupenian, said the piece was inspired by “the strange and flimsy evidence we use to judge the contextless people we meet outside our existing social networks, whether online or off.” Indeed, even for the people we already know, we increasingly rely on contextless forms of communication. This puts an unusually large burden on the words themselves (and maybe some emojis) to convey what is meant. And each message, and each pause in between messages, takes on outsize importance.

“Text messages become marks on rocks to be analyzed and sweated over,” Turkle says.

It’s not always easy to figure out what someone meant to convey by using a certain emoji, or by waiting three days to text you back. Different people have different ideas about how long it’s appropriate to wait to respond. As Deborah Tannen, a linguist at Georgetown University, wrote in The Atlantic, the signals that are sent by how people communicate online—the “metamessages” that accompany the literal messages—can easily be misinterpreted:

Human beings are always in the business of making meaning and interpreting meaning. Because there are options to choose from when sending a message, like which platform to use and how to use it, we see meaning in the choice that was made. But because the technologies, and the conventions for using them, are so new and are changing so fast, even close friends and relatives have differing ideas about how they should be used. And because metamessages are implied rather than stated, they can be misinterpreted or missed entirely.

This metamessage opacity spawns thousands of other text messages a year, as people enlist their friends to help interpret exactly what their romantic interest meant by a certain turn of phrase, or whether a week-long radio silence means they’re being ghosted. (The New Yorker parodied this collaborative textual analysis in a video in which a group of women gather, war-room style, to answer the question “Was It a Date?”)

Features intended to add clarity—like read receipts or the little bubble with the ellipses in iMessage that tells you when someone is typing (which is apparently called the “typing awareness indicator”)—often just cause more anxiety, by offering definitive evidence for when someone is ignoring you or started to reply only to put it off longer.

* * *

But just because people know how stressful it can be to wait for a reply to what they thought would be an instant message doesn’t mean they won’t ignore others’ messages in turn.

Sometimes people don’t respond as a way of deliberately signaling they’re annoyed, or that they don’t want to continue a relationship. Turkle says sometimes taking a long time to write back is a way of establishing dominance in a relationship, by making yourself look simply too busy and important to reply.

But oftentimes, people are just trying to manage the quantity of messages and notifications they receive. In 2015, the average American was receiving 88 business emails per day, according to the market research firm Radicati, but only sending 34 business emails per day. Because—who has the time to respond to 88 emails a day? Maybe someone isn’t responding because they’ve realized the interruption of a notification negatively affects their productivity, so they’re ignoring their phone to get some work done.

I find myself ignoring or procrastinating even important messages, and ones I want and intend to respond to. I had to create a bright red “Needs Response” email label to battle my own “delayed response” problem. I regularly read texts, think “I’ll respond to that later,” and then completely forget about it. Working memory—the brain’s mental to-do list—can only hold so much at once, and when notifications get crammed in with shopping lists and work tasks, sometimes it springs a leak.

“A lot of the time what’s happening is people have five conversations going on, and they just can’t really be intimate and present with five different people,” Turkle says. “So they kind of do a triage, they prioritize, they forget. Your brain is not a perfect instrument for processing texts. But it will be interpreted as though it really was a conversation, and so you can hurt people.”

* * *

Still, even though instant written communication can be overwhelming and anxiety-inducing, people prefer it. Americans spend more time texting than talking on the phone, and texting is the most frequent form of communication for Americans under 50.

While texting is popular worldwide, Baron, of American University, thinks that a strong preference for communication that can be easily ignored is a particularly American attitude. “Americans have far fewer manners in general in their communication than a lot of other societies,” she says. “The second issue is a real feeling of empowerment. I think we have become a version of power freaks, not just control freaks.”

In a survey Baron conducted in 2007 and 2008 of students in several countries including the United States, the things that people said they liked most about their phones were often related to control. One American woman said her favorite thing was “Constant communication when I want it (can also shut it off when I don’t).”

“What I have seen in this country, and I don’t know if it’s a national trait, is people wait until they think they have the perfect thing to say, as though relationships can be managed by writing the perfect thing,” Turkle says. “And I think that is something we pay a very high cost for.”

In Baron’s survey, people also mentioned feeling controlled by their phones—bemoaning how dependent they were on the devices, and how the constant connectivity made them feel obligated to respond.

But texts and emails don’t create as big of an obligation as phone calls, or a face-to-face conversation. When young adults are interviewed about why they don’t like making phone calls, they cite a distaste for how “invasive” they are, and a reluctance to place that burden on someone else. Written instant messages create a smokescreen of plausible deniability if someone doesn’t feel like responding, which can be relieving for the hider, and frustrating for the seeker.

More than anything, what the age of instant communication has enabled is the ability to deal with conversation on our own terms. We can respond right away, we can put it off for two days, or never get around to it at all. We can manage several different conversations at once. “Sorry, I was out with friends,” we might say, as an excuse for not texting someone back. Or, “Sorry, I just need to text this person back real quick,” we might say while out with friends.

As these things become normal, it creates an environment where we are only comfortable asking for slivers of people’s distracted time, lest they ever obligate us to give them our full and undivided attention.

#technology #tech #text #relationships #articles #digital media #social media

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thelemmerpie · 4 years ago

Text

You look at your watch, and the same question since the beginning of the school year crosses your mind.

Why having classes on saturday morning?

Everyone is tired, except the teacher. Everyone will have to work this weekend. Students never have a vacation, only stolen time paid from sleepless nights.

Whatever. Since you know Mandy, your saturdays to you two are as free as possible and almost nothing prevents you from seeing each other. Every week, you end up in your favorite italian restaurant for a dinner, often accompanied by a night of pleasure in your flat, or hers. Even if it's still impossible for you to live with each other, spending the weekends together is not uncommon. So much that she has clothes and toilet stuff in your appartment, and vice versa.

You thought about her face floating above a table, lit by candles. It perfumes your spirit and you quickly forget the courses. Gracious, her smile revealing so cute dimples, her long and willowy hair tumbling down like a waterfall made of the most sleeked mirror on her oppulent chest, more or less revealed according to her mood...You're already on a cloud only by thinking about her. The day is beautiful, your eyes closes while you're smiling, and nothing can lift you out of your contemplation.

-Mr. Johnson seems already on weekend. Unless he's still in dreamland?

Almost nothing. The comment is as striking as a bucket of iced water. You turn your head to the old vulture who serves as a teacher. The bun as tight as her thin pinched lips, she looks at you with eyes ready to throw lightning. You stutt.

-Sorry mam'. Tiredness.

-Think about sleeping at night, young man.

As if you could afford it...This first year of master's degree in plastic arts, sculpture course, is more exhausting than expected.You wish you could rest your head every night on Mandy, which is impossible. Since she obtained a bachelor's degree and works on the other side of the city, she had to take a flat. You, you stayed on the campus. Life is good inside it, but not as much as with her.

The rest of the class is deadly boring, but you strive to make as many notes as you can. Finally, after what seems like hours, the old harpy frees you by asking you to return a project for the next time.

You turn on your phone and the notifications appears. Mandy sent you a text. You open it right away, hoping for a soft message to wait until tonight.

"I'm sorry, I have to cancel dinner tonight"

A fleeting moment passes, then an immense disappointment falls like a hawk on his prey (and on your heart. And on your libido). This is not the first time that one of you cancels at the last moment, but it's always unpleasant. Nevertheless, you decide to not hold it against her, even if it saddens you.

"Too bad :'( All you alright? I miss you so much ".

The answer doesn't take long to arrive.

"Yes, I'm fine, but I really cannot go out yet."

She doesn't give you more details, which worries you a bit. Usually, you immediately tell to the other the reasons for the cancellation. You are puzzled, but you trust her and don't insist.

"If you need anything, I can go to your house tonight. Shop, or anything else. What about pizzas and a movie on the TV ?"

"Yes ! That would be wonderful, and much better ! If I can't go out right now, I can at least let you in ~~ I'm sending you a list."

It's autumn, but the heat persists and the blue sky makes you want a sandwich. You would like her to be there, by your side, lying in the still soft green grass, but she never liked the heat for a simple reason : finding suitable clothes to go out in such heat is almost impossible. Not because of being overweight, no. At least, not all over her body. It's a very local overweight: a macromastia.

As a teenager, her chest was already growing at an impossible rate. At 17, she was competing with the most buxom models you'd ever seen. Since then, her chest continues to grow steadily. Every four months, she is forced to buy new bras. Whole boxes of old underwear hang around her house.

She learned to do with it. As soon as she's back home, she unravels the torture instrument to free her chest. If it excited you at first, it fast becomed as common as taking off your shoes. Ignoring her chest is clearly impossible, especially when it jumps in all directions. But the moments you prefer are those quite ones where you are together to the couch, watching TV while behaving and more if you're in the mood. These moments are still too rare. You hope this will change one day. In such a big city, your respective obligations separates you and if you get closer, it would be your obligations that would be too far from you.

You sigh. In just over a year, you'll be able to live together. Her father has promised you a job in his molding company, and he already considers you two as married. Maybe you'll even be able to take up his business later. A clear path, a good job, a dream girlfriend, and a lovely family in law. It's well worth it to endure on saturday mornings with the vulture and work like a madman.

You finish your sandwich when your phone vibrates again. It's Mandy. A short list is displayed. She doesn't need much : food, some medicine...And new bras.

There, you frown.

She bought some two weeks ago, and they were already costing a fortune, in addition to being horribly uncomfortable. Having a big chest is considered as chance, but the bad sides can be counted easily : besides the expensive and inconvenient underwears, you can cite the look of others and the lustful solicitations from complete strangers when you go out in the street.

And yet, you've never seen her complain. No back pain, a body of foolproof flexibility, and an amused satisfaction when she surprises the eyes of others dive into her deep cleavage. She likes to seduce as well, but has always looked for someone who would consider her as something much than a toy for a titfuck. Her breasts didn't leave you indifferent, but you quickly became interested about her to the point that even naked, you can discuss with her as when she wears a triple layer of thick clothes, in autumn and winter, the only seasons where she can go out without problems. Her two favorite seasons have quickly become yours as she feels comfortable.

And yet, what a pair !

You could carve it from memory on pink marble, with all the details that her body offers. Round, no, a little oval. Glossy, smooth, plumped in her clothes, looking like a silicon bag that other women implant themselves. Except that she's natural. It's so unlikely that many people find it hard to believe, at the point that "fake boobs" yeled loudly always been an insult. Harassment, she knows that. But she has always been proud of her body, and you have always been proud of her. People talk, you live your love, that's enough for you two.

You keep thinking about your sculpture. Her tits would be nothing without gravity, of course. A challenge, to account for a chest so beautiful, so full, but that falls so little. Languid into the lustiness of her own pleasure, as she is after love. She's like her chest: proud, but so smoochy when she loves...

And the nipples, of course ! Small, discreet, as cute and innocent as infants. Two small chicks hatched by two aerolas, soft hen mums. Everytime, you vacillate between kissing them softly or sucking them. Everything in her is so perfect that to soil her would be a crime, if she wern't agree to welcome you near her and into her.

Nevertheless. New bras just two weeks after buying other is strange. Have they broke ? With a chest like hers, nothing surprises you anymore.Those before were worse than grandmother's bras. Thick sackcloths, oversized sports bras, with braces stretching out day after day, until her breasts overflowed and compressed her too much. A sexy photo later, you left to buy others. Shopping with her is always a pleasure, even if shops providing sizes at her convenience are increasingly rare.

You call her, and her voice soon rings in your ears.

-Hello, Danny ?

-Mandy, sweetie, I got your list. Had you not...already bought new bras recently?

It still gets you to be embarrassed to talk about her breasts, sometimes, and you must carefully prepare your words in order to not blush. You prefer to look at them and touch them, in silence, without any other noise than her pleasure moans.

-Sorryyyyyyyy ~~ . But I can't do otherwise. I can't go out with the old ones, it's getting worse and worse.

-Better and better, you mean ?

-For you, yes.

-And for you too. I know you love your breasts.

-Stop, she said, laughing. Or I could cancel the pizza tonight.

-You wouldn't dare !

The indignation in your voice is falsely exaggerated, which makes her laugh once again.

-If the handsome and brave knight carries out his mission and goes shopping, maybe the princess will send him a foretaste of what awaits him...

-An antipasti before the pizza, hm? I'll be curious to see what you're making...

-First, shop. I will prepare everything for tonight.

You're about to say goodbye to her, when a genius idea comes to you.

- What if I buy candles?

- What for?

- You know...candlelit dinner?

- For delivery pizzas ? No thanks. And then, I'm lazy to do the dishes. They have grown so much that I start having back pain...

-Really? In this case, prepare your oils for a long and good massage.

You hear hear murmuring with satisfaction.

-Very well, brave knight. If you manage to kill the hunchbacked dragon, the princess will offer you more than an antipasti.

-It's a great honor you give me, my lady.

-Come on, hang up. The shop will not make it himself.

- See ya, sweetie.

-See ya, cutie.

You hang up, a smile on your lips. Never in your life had you had such spars with anyone before. Each of her words brings you joy. Hurry the day you move in with her : your happiness will be complete.

But now, groceries. Your phone is vibrating again. It's a text sent by Mandy.

"I called Georgina this morning, you just have to take the package and pay. It's a huge lucky break, she has just renewed her supplies and agreed to take back those of two weeks ago. I will repay you".

The advantage of being a loyal and regular customer for out-of-the-ordinary clothing is that the ladies around the globe forms a small private club where they can discuss and exchange advice and services. The shop she usually goes to is far away, but it's a warm one and the woman who holds it is super great. Georgina, the manager, is a little old woman as wrinkled as an apple and had the same chest problems. She quickly decided to help women like her. If the bras remaines expensive, she gladly takes over the old ones to retouch them. She's even made customized tailor-made. But as long as Mandy's breasts will continue to grow at a breakneck pace, it will be useless and she clearly told you that : "I should take new measurements immediately after my work is done. I'd never seen that ! Go on like this, my little one, and congratulations, young man ! "

The shop bell tolls when you enter into it. Some times later, Georgina comes out of the back shop and greets you, delighted as you go forward the sale desk.

-Ah, Daniel ! I received Mandy's message. This girl beats all records, I made a new storpile just for her ! Only two weeks, and you'd think she took six months all at once !

-Thank you, Georgina, this is the first time that happens ...

-Tell me about it ! I've never seen that ! Fortunately, I have a good contact in England. Tell her to slow down, she never listened to me! It's not like you're not already happy with what she have, huh?

You try to show a neutral face, as every time Georgina talks about your relationship. Some grandmothers are discreet, but the old seamstress would be able to collapse buildings just by talking. Like every time, you fail and can only display a shy smile.

- I'll tell him, thanks. How much do I owe you?

The old woman sweeps the air with her hand and rejects the imaginary money.

-Nothing ! We'll see that when she returns the others. Knowing her, she didn't even touch it. She made her measurements, but I put her several sizes just in case. She will only have to bring me back as soon as possible.

-Thank you so much for your generosity. Without you, we don't know what she would do.

-Bah, we have to stick together! It was even worse when I was young.. Corsets that choked you even more than the things I'm selling today ! I say, I can't wait the day we can go out without it, half naked, like you men, without being attacked at every street corner! It's not Mandy that would bother ! Beautiful melons as big and as firm as the pectorals of my late husband !

You agree, but you don't know what to say. You may have an empty look, because Georgina allows you to leave.

-Ah, you men ! Go find your beauty and make us beautiful children, it will make my pleasure !

-Yes Ma’am. Thank you Ma’am.

You leave the shop, a second opaque plastic bag in your hands. Even through it, you can feel the fabric of the cup. The more Mandy's breasts grow, the less they seems thick, padded, comfortable. As for the shoulder's straps, they must be tight to cut off her skin. You can't wait the day she'll be able to wear custom made bras for her ease. You send her a text.

"I have groceries and bras, Georgina didn't charge me and she added several sizes just in case."

The answer is quick to arrive.

"Really ? Wonderful ! I'm gonna jump on her neck when I see her. How long before you get in?"

"An hour, I just went out"

"Too looooong..."

You strat to write, but another one appears.

"Here's a little something that will make you want to come even more faster..."

A few seconds later, your reward appears on your screen. It's been a while since you're used to her chest, but your mouth is opening and it takes little to make you drool.

She never sent photos of her completely naked, preferring provocation in exciting clothes. Sometimes she sends you her pretty face. Sometimes full body in a simple, wise, accompanied by her long hair that always makes you fall in love with her when you gaze at them. This time, they are tied over her head, revealing her neck, shoulders and thin arms. She seems to come out of the shower, a few drops still bead of her soft skin A new pair of diving breasts, with monstrous cleavage, overflowing beyond a towel about to explode.

You totally understand the need for new bras. At sight of the nose, only the widest will fit.

And sh's only 21 years old. And she has not finished her growth yet.

In size, yes. Not in cup size.

A new text appears.

"Have you choosed your pizza yet ?"

"I don't know, I'm in a mood for a snack right now. A stuffed sandwich, if you know what I mean ;-)"

“I thought you was in a romantic mood ? Candles of for lightning, not for BDSM, we agrée ?”

"You're impossible, as your jokes"

"No, I'm real. Why don't you touch me, if you don't believe ? I'm still waiting for my brave bra knight ;-) ".

The bus is here. You close your phone, ranks right at the bottom of your pocket so that no one can suspect your activities, and you sit down in a quiet corner.

Something tells you that you will not have time for eating tonight.

__________

Model is MandaDawn, on Patreon and Onlyfans. That photo is clearly not the best, from two or three years ago when she was on tumblr, but I don’t know why, it inspired me with the force of a train. I barely touched her story since her breasts are effectively still growing, for an actual X cup.

#MandaDawn #Story #BreastGrowth #BreastExpansion

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retrievablememories · 4 years ago

Text

crush on you | johnny

title: crush on you pairing: johnny x black!reader genre: fluff request: “Do you think you could do a scenario about Johnny coming home to Chicago and seeing (black) reader from his hometown and confessing his crush on her” word count: 3.6k warnings: some cursing, some kissing lol a/n: this southern girl don’t know a thang about chicago so i had to do some research here, don’t eat me up y’all...i’m trying to experiment with writing from multiple POVs so idk if it makes sense but you can tell me if it doesn’t lol

“Ah, it’s cold,” Taeyong rubs his hands together and puffs warm air into them, though it doesn’t do much to take the chill away.

“It’s that Chicago weather.” Johnny chuckles, largely unphased by the temperature outside. With their recent time off affording them a trip to Johnny’s hometown, Mark, Johnny, and Taeyong decided to visit the Chicago Botanic Garden; though it was mostly Johnny’s idea, since the others are still fairly new to the city.

Every year around this time of the season, the Garden has a light show for the December holidays. Johnny saw it as the perfect opportunity to have some fun while sharing more American festivities with Taeyong and Mark. The other members can never get enough of finding something new and exciting to do whenever they’re overseas.

As they walk through the brightly lit landscape, Johnny catches a glimpse of a familiar face, and his laughter at one of Mark’s jokes trails off. He watches to make sure he’s seeing things correctly; yes, the two girls a few feet away from them. He’s not familiar with the other one, but the first girl is undoubtedly you, someone he remembers from his high school days. Same bright smile, pretty brown skin, and recognizable laughter, though you’ve obviously matured since then.

He tries not to be obvious about staring, but his gaze trails after you like he’s afraid he’ll lose track of you forever. He didn’t really expect to see you again after you both graduated high school, but here you are.

“....you know what I mean?”

“Huh?”

“You totally missed what I said!” Mark sighs. “I’m not telling the joke again—what are you even looking at? You’re completely distracted.”

“A girl,” Taeyong snickers, ducking his head and shoving his hands in his pockets. Mark’s eyebrows rise up to his bangs at that, and Johnny sighs.

“Oh, word? Who?”

Before Johnny can answer, you glance backwards, and the both of you catch eyes. You’re equally surprised to see him, but there is definitely recognition there. He’s almost shocked you remember him; but of course, he’s part of a famous kpop group now, so it’s not impossible to know who he is.

“So it is you,” you say. Your friend gives a knowing grin, and Johnny figures she must’ve been the one to notice he was there. Have you told her about him before? Maybe she’s even a fan of the group.

“You remember me?” Johnny asks, smiling slightly. The 3 men walk up to you and your friend and stop in front of you.

“Well, yes…” you answer. “You aren’t exactly the kind of person one forgets.” Johnny isn’t sure if that’s a good thing or not, but he is admittedly happy that he’s stuck in your mind all this time.

“I could say the same about you.”

You smile politely at that, though you feel a little embarrassed, too. You’re unsure what to say next, and your friend has to come in to save the day once again.

“You can walk with us if you want, the tour’s more fun in a group anyway.” The guys look at each other as if trying to decide if this is a good idea or not, though Johnny seems to have made his mind up already. Still, he leaves it open for you to decide when he says,

“I mean, if you really want us to come. We wouldn’t wanna disturb the good time you’re having or anything…”

“Dude, they’ve already invited us,” Mark snorts.

“Stop playing hard to get, you’re not very convincing,” Taeyong says in Korean, shaking his head at Johnny’s posturing.

Your friend giggles to no end, and all you can do is shake your head at her. “Yes, it’s totally fine. Come on!” You pull your friend along and wave for the other guys to follow.

Soon, though, your friend ends up hanging back a little with Mark and Taeyong as you and Johnny talk, walking through the colorful gardens.

“How long are you gonna be in town?” you ask, studying the small glittering lights all around you.

“A couple weeks,” he answers. “We got some time off, so…I wanted to come back home.”

“That’s nice. I can imagine it would get a little lonely being away from home all the time.”

“It can be, but you get through it…what about you? How’s life been treating you?”

“I’ve been fine...working and just living life and all that. I’m thinking about getting another degree or something, you know, just to feel more accomplished with myself...I mean, nothing as extravagant as being a worldwide star,” you say, laughing as you look at him, “but it’s life.”

“It’s great to be able to do that, though! You should be proud. If you decide to.” Johnny talks excitedly, almost like he thinks there won’t be enough time to say whatever he wants to. You nod at his words, grinning slightly at his fast talking.

“I think you’re right.” You look out across the way to see the tiny snowflakes that have begun to fall more rapidly. They’ve been coming sporadically for the past hour or so, but they’re falling more frequently now.

“Oh, you have one on your eye...” Johnny points to your face and you look at him quizzically. “A snowflake.” You let him get closer to brush it off your eyelash, though it quickly melts under his body heat.

“Thanks,” you say, your body warming from his actions.

Before you know it, your little group has walked around much of the gardens already, and the air is getting cold enough to make your teeth hurt from the chill. “Well, I guess we should be heading home soon,” you say, glancing over to your friend who looks to be having the time of her life with the other 2 men. She pouts at your words.

Johnny nods solemnly. “I’d like to talk to you again, especially since we haven’t seen each other in a while...could I get your number?” Your friend giggles behind you, and you have to resist the urge to give her a look.

“Is that a good idea? I don’t want your managers coming after me with pitchforks or something,” you say jokingly, but you’re partly serious about it, too. Johnny waves his hand, smirking as if it’s not important.

“That’s not a problem. They’re our managers, but they can’t run every aspect of our lives.” Taeyong gives a skeptical look at that but says nothing.

Biting your lip, you decide to take a chance with it. After swapping numbers, you say your goodbyes, with you nearly dragging your friend away as she takes her sweet time smiling and waving. “Girl. If you can manage to calm down on the way home, I’ll find a way to set you up with Taeyong or something, but chill!”

“Girl...don’t say that lightly, I’m holding you to it.”

Johnny lies on his bed in his childhood bedroom, scrolling through his phone. He looks through your Instagram page to see what you’ve been up to for the past few years. Maybe he should feel like more of a creep about it, but Instagram’s contact syncing feature made it ridiculously easy to find your profile, whether he was actively looking for it or not.

Mark already knows what Johnny is up to, and his interest is instantly piqued. “Hyung, how long are you gonna stalk her IG from your private account? This is like the 500th time in 3 days. Just call her if you miss her that bad.” Mark giggles mischievously as he says this. He tries to look over the other man’s shoulder, but Johnny shifts away from him, trying to shield his phone.

“It’s not the 500th time,” Johnny argues, his ears turning pink at being caught red-handed.

“You’re right, it’s the 501st time,” Mark says, making a grab for the older man’s phone. Johnny twists away from him, but he’s not quite fast enough to miss Mark’s swipe. His phone gets knocked out of his hand, though it thankfully hits the bed instead of the floor. Him and Mark end up wrestling around on the bed, with Johnny putting the younger boy in a headlock. Taeyong watches in amusement as the two fight.

“You’re doing too much,” Johnny says, rolling his eyes after letting Mark go.

“I’m doing too much, but you’re the one choking me out,” Mark huffs, fixing his disheveled hair.

In the mad scramble for his phone, Johnny realizes he’s accidentally liked one of your photos and he feels the back of his neck burn with embarrassment. Will you notice it and wonder who the faceless account liking your pictures is? “Fuck,” he blurts out, wondering if he should unlike the photo. You would’ve already gotten the notification for it, so what’s the point?

“What’s wrong?” Mark asks, unable to resist the urge to peek over Johnny’s shoulder again. Johnny elbows him away, and Mark yelps when he gets caught in the stomach.

“Dumbass, you made me accidentally like a photo...one from 2 years ago.”

“It doesn’t matter. I doubt she even cares or will notice it.” Taeyong pipes up from his spot across the room.

“Are you sure? Who isn’t gonna notice a weird ass private profile liking a 2-year-old post?” This time, Mark rolls out of the way before Johnny is able to cuff him upside the head.

Taeyong sucks his teeth. “It really doesn’t matter. You already have her number! Who cares about accidentally liking an Instagram post? She won’t know it’s you either way. Like Mark said, just call her and stop freaking out about it.”

“The fact that she gave you her number at all means she doesn’t see you as a total weirdo, so you have a chance of everything working out,” Mark says, lying back on the bed with his arms behind his head.

“Somehow, I’m not sure if that makes me feel worse or better.”

It doesn’t take Johnny very long to lure you out of your home once you start texting each other. On Friday, you get a message from him that reads:

12:02 P.M. Johnny 🧸 Do you wanna hang out somewhere?? Like today?

12:03 P.M. Very last minute of you, lol. Depends on where you’re gonna take me

12:03 P.M. Johnny 🧸 🙃 I know a spot

12:04 P.M. Where would that be?

12:04 P.M. Johnny 🧸 Do you trust me??

12:04 P.M. ?! Trust you? I’m scared. Where are you even taking me lmao

12:05 P.M. Johnny 🧸 Somewhere cool. But you gotta trust me first. I can show you a whole new world

12:06 P.M. Please. You’re such a cornball :( But okayyy, I’ll go

You give him your address and go to get ready afterwards. You’re unsure what to wear, but it’s always freezing cold this time of year, so you figure you’re safe with bundling up no matter where you’re going.

Johnny comes to pick you up not long after, and you go out to meet him in his car, which is idling in your driveway.

“You look really cute,” Johnny says after you get into the car, his lips curling into a little cat-like grin.

You try to play it cool, though you can’t stop the smile that spreads on your lips. “Mmm, thanks.”

You two make casual small talk on the way to your destination, talking about what you did that week, what you plan to do next week, and the weather—which is cold, cold, and more cold.

You sit up straighter once you finally get to where you’re going, your eyes widening a bit as you look out the window. “The Museum of Contemporary Photography? I don’t think I’ve been here before.”

“Even better. It’s always fun to have a brand-new experience.”

“I’m a little surprised though, you made it sound like we were going on some dangerous mission,” you say laughingly as you both walk into the museum. There’s already a decent amount of people present, lingering around and looking at the exhibits. “Do you live for drama or what?”

“Drama, excitement, it’s all the same thing. It’s what makes life interesting.”

You and Johnny walk through an exhibit from a photographer with a wealth of city and natural scenery photos, though there are a few portraits scattered throughout. Most of them are in black and white, with a smattering of full-color pictures grouped together.

“I haven’t been to a museum in a long time,” you sigh, tucking your hands into your pockets as you walk along a wall of monochrome photos. “I forgot what it’s like to sit back and appreciate art. Sad, huh.”

“Maybe not sad,” Johnny says, trailing after you. “Sometimes life just gets in the way and you can’t do everything you want to.”

“Doesn’t it? I’m sure you’re familiar with that, though...it really has been a while since I’ve been able to actually enjoy something simply for the sake of enjoying it.”

“That’s why I’m here!” Johnny says this cheerfully, his eyes twinkling like he’s just found the answer to all your problems. Or your biggest one, at least. Your face cracks at his goofy grin, and you duck your head while holding in your laughter. “Really, though. What if it was fate that we met up like we did, not even knowing we were gonna be at the same place?”

“Then I’d say the universe has a funny way of operating,” you say, observing a photo of a nighttime skyline.

When you get to the end of the exhibit, Johnny holds his hand out to you. “There’s something I wanna show you.”

You glance at his eyes, which are achingly sincere, and look away when you find you’re too nervous to hold his gaze for long. Though you hesitate for a moment, you take his hand, which is calloused and warm in your own. “Lead the way.”

He takes you further into the museum, eventually leading you to an exhibition room filled wall-to-wall with images of flowers. Your senses are a little shocked by the barrage of colorfulness, a sure contrast to the other artist’s work. Some of the images are big enough to take up half the wallspace, and they’re detailed enough for you to see even the tiniest lines in the flowers’ petals.

“This is amazing,” you whisper, walking closer to see the images in their full glory. You’re not sure if it’s weird to still be holding Johnny’s hand, but he hasn’t let go, so you figure it’s okay.

“I remembered you really liked flowers when we were in high school, although I couldn’t remember which kind…you always wore this one flower pin on your backpack, though.”

“The same one I eventually lost.” You frown a bit at that. It was long ago, but the memory still bothers you; you never found it after it went missing.

“Yeah. I felt kinda bad back then because you seemed pretty upset about it, so…” Johnny shrugs. “I know it’s not the same thing, but…”

“I can’t believe you remembered all that. Or even noticed it, really.” Your heart beats a little faster, though you try to ignore it. This can’t just be a nice gesture between old classmates, right? “Thank you, really. I appreciate this.” You squeeze his hand a little tighter in yours. Johnny smiles at you and squeezes back.

“Are you hungry?” Johnny asks when you get back in the car. You stretch your hands in front of the air vents and shudder at the warm air on your palms, and Johnny’s heart skips a little beat at the cute display.

“Sure. I don’t know what to eat, though...what about you?”

Johnny taps his fingers against the steering wheel. “Hmm, I know a place.”

You glance out the window as the museum’s scenery fades out of view and gives way to the roadway again. It’s not that late yet, but the sun is already looking heavy in the sky—one of your least favorite things about winter. “You seem to know a lot of good hangout spots,” you say teasingly. “But I’m not surprised. You were quite well-known even back then.”

Johnny laughs, a bit embarrassed. “I don’t know about that.”

“Oh, please. A lot of people liked you. Girls, especially.”

Johnny wants to ask you the question that’s just popped into his mind, but he decides to save it for when you get to the restaurant, instead biting his lip and turning your words around in his head.

Johnny ends up taking you to a charming little restaurant that has just about anything you can imagine on the menu, which changes almost daily. You’re not sure how they pull that off with being a little local spot, but you’re not complaining.

The two of you take a table and talk more as you wait for your food to come, moving past the small talk and delving more into your school years. You spend a while there talking and eating, and the hours pass before you’re aware of it.

Johnny watches you sip at your smoothie as the last rays of the evening sun spread across your face, illuminating your eyes and coily hair with their warmth. If he stares any longer, it’ll probably get weird, but he doesn’t want to stop looking. The same feeling that’s got him unable to look away compels him to finally just say something, so he doesn’t think twice when he tells you,

“I’ve always liked you, you know.”

You blink, turning from the window to look at him.

Johnny looks bashful after speaking, which you’re a little surprised about, because you’ve hardly ever seen him look hesitant or afraid about much of anything until today. You stare at him with your eyes incredulous and your straw halfway to your mouth.

“What?”

Johnny chuckles a little, though he feels a little less confident even though he hasn’t received your answer yet. “I like you. When we were in high school, I—yeah. I had a crush on you. Have, I mean—I still do.”

You’re initially unsure how to take this big reveal, especially knowing he still likes you after all this time has passed. Maybe you suspected it from his behavior over the past few days and today, but it’s still a little hard to digest when you know he has thousands of girls throwing themselves at him.

“Why didn’t you say anything while we were in school?” is the first thing you can think to ask.

He shakes his head, looking at his hands. “I don’t really know,” he says weakly. “I thought, maybe, you wouldn’t be interested in me. We weren’t even in the same social circles.”

“Wouldn’t be interested in you...?” you repeat, clasping your fingers together and trying to steady yourself. Your heart is definitely racing right now. “Johnny, I…”

“You don’t have to give me an answer now,” Johnny rushes out. “O-or ever? I just...wanted you to know, I guess...since we’ve met up suddenly and I don’t know if we’ll have this chance again—”

“I...I like you too.”

Johnny’s quiet for a few seconds, registering what you’ve just said, and then he grins widely. “Aww, you like me—that’s so cute!” He grasps your hands as he says this, and you give him a disbelieving look.

“Wow, really?! You’re the one who just confessed to me!” You can’t stop yourself from giggling, though, as he brings your hands to his lips and kisses them all over. “How am I gonna deal with you?”

“You’ll just have to figure it out, ‘cause I’m all yours now.”

The moon is out by the time Johnny takes you back to your place. He insists on walking you to the door even though it’s only a few feet away, and you indulge him on it because you definitely like the extra time being in his presence.

“I’m glad you came out with me today,” he tells you, his eyes warm.

“I’m sure you are, you got a whole girlfriend out of it.”

Johnny smirks at that, leaning into you. “Does this count as our first date, then? Because if it does, there’s something else I want to show you...”

“And what would that be?” you ask Johnny, leaning closer to him in answer to his increased proximity. His response is to close the gap between you, his lips meshing themselves with yours. He kisses you like that for a while, not wanting to let you go, though you eventually have to part to catch your breath.

“Your lips were cold! Felt like I was kissing a vampire at first.” Your breaths puff out in front of you as you say this, laughing lightly. Johnny leans forward and you think he’ll kiss you again, but he tucks his face into the side of your neck, pulling your scarf down, and places a kiss there. You shiver a little at your neck being exposed to the cold, but also for reasons more related to the sensation of his lips on you.

“Does this remind you of a vampire, too?” Johnny murmurs, kissing his way up from the side of your neck to your cheek.

“You’re crazy.” You push his chest, though he pulls your arms to keep you close to him. “You’re gonna get us arrested for public indecency. Have you had enough yet?” You giggle, giving in to his efforts and wrapping your arms securely around his neck.

“Not yet,” he says, pecking your lips again with a smile. “Gotta make up for lost time.”

#nct 127 scenarios #nct 127 imagines #johnny scenarios #johnny imagines #johnny suh #nct imagines #nct scenarios #nct 127 fic #nct fic #ambw #ambw kpop #ambw scenarios #ambw imagines #johnny fluff #ambw fluff

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pretty-setter-bois · 4 years ago

Text

can i

A FEW DAYS had passed since suna had come home drunk. he’d woken up to a hangover, and you’d woken up to an empty bed.

you get up, checking the kitchen before doing anything else. your eyes glance over to where the car keys were — not here.

your eyes shift once more, this time to the clock on the wall, the one you’d spent too much time looking at.

10:27 AM.

what would suna be doing out at ten-thirty in the morning?

you enter the bathroom, brushing your teeth while trying to think about what your boyfriend could be doing with the car at such an early time. you hated admitting it, but even calling him your boyfriend felt like overstepping a boundary.

after spitting the remainder of the fluoride paste, you rinse your mouth with water and exit. you flop down on the couch, internally reminding yourself that you have to stop laying on the furniture when you feel dejected.

you take out your phone — which had been in your pocket the whole time — and go through your notifications.

you had a few texts from worried friends, a few missed calls, and voicemails that you knew you wouldn’t be able to finish without rethinking every aspect of your current life.

you don’t open any, instead opening your phone and pressing the messages icon. you press the search bar, spelling out ‘rin’ letter by letter.

9:54 AM

rin <3

i’ll be back before dinner

10:39 AM

alright :)

what are you doing right now?

you tried to make your message sound as neutral as possible, as suna didn’t like you digging into his business. you were surprised to find him respond quickly.

10:49 AM

rin <3

just practicing for our game.

you’ll be there, right?

10:51 AM

for what?

10:55 AM

rin <3

for the game

you look away from the screen for a little. suna usually mentioned his games when speaking about training — you couldn’t recall the last time he’d personally invited you to a game.

10:57 AM

yeah, of course <3

10:59 AM

can i stop by to see you?

delivered

you turn off your phone, giving up after waiting for a few minutes.

you miss suna.

you miss how he used to wake you up with a kiss to the forehead, before letting you go back to sleep as he left for work.

you miss his horrible attempts at cooking, which resulted in late nights of shared take-out.

but what you missed the most, was the old suna.

TIME SEEMED TO take way too long to pass. a second felt like a minute, a minute like an hour.

it also seemed that in your attempts to wait for suna to open up to you, you ended up forgetting everyone else, including yourself.

it wasn’t like you did it on purpose — you just felt so empty. the one person you wanted to speak to most seemed like he had no time for you.

“hey.” suna greeted you with a small smile. the one he gave only for you. “sorry i was running late.”

“don’t worry.” you offered a wider smile, happy that he was finally here.

“so, what do you want to do first?” he turned to look at the colourful street.

“come with me.” you giggled, grabbing his wrist as you began to run.

he smiled, watching from behind as your hair blew. he knew you were smiling too.

“two fruit sticks, please.” you handed the cashier the bill, and he handed you what you asked for in return.

you turned to face suna, a large grin on your face as you gave him one. “here.”

“thanks.” he nonchalantly opened it, despite being the happiest he’s ever been.

he was always the happiest with you.

maybe because no ones been so dedicated to him before, or because no ones ever tried to understand him as much as you have.

no. he watched as you fumbled with the wrapper, tongue poking out and eyebrows furrowed. cute.

you finished up your snacks, throwing the wrappers in a nearby garbage. you walked past the stalls and shops, having bought a few things in the process.

a strong breeze flew by the two of you, making you stumble a few footsteps back.

without a word, suna took off his jacket to hand to you. “take it.” he looked off to the side — the thought of you in his jacket made him blush like a high-schooler.

you giggled again, accepting the jacket with thanks as you placed it on you.

he was right. you did look cute in his jacket.

“hey.” suna greets you with minimal expression. it was better than the cold tone you’d gotten used to. “sorry i was running late.”

“don’t worry!” you eagerly smile.

“do we have any jelly fruit sticks?” he asks, opening the door to the fridge.

“no, but i could get some for you right now.” you answer.

“nah, don’t worry. i’ll just get some tomorrow morning.” he waves it off.

“it’s no problem. the store is right downstairs, it’ll only take a few minutes.”

“no, it’s fine.”

“i said not to worry.” you chuckle lightly. “it’s not a big deal.”

“it is.” he says, approaching the couch.

“why?” you tilt your head to the side.

“you don’t know what kind of creeps could be around at this time of night.” he states.

so he did care. of course he cared! he’d just been gone for so long that you’d let your thoughts run wild. besides, he had a job. he wasn’t the one at home with a divorce case on hold.

he was a volleyball player, you were a divorce lawyer. how ironic.

“yeah, but you don’t have to worry so much.” you smile.

“i’d be an idiot of i didn’t.” he gave a small smile.

it was uncanny how he could make all your feelings of worry, sorrow, and frustration towards him disappear with just the right words.

“i feel tired.” he speaks first.

“you could sleep.” you respond.

you’d began to observe him a lot since he’d started to grow distant. you’d began to pay attention to who spoke first, their body language, their tone, facial expressions.

“goodnight.” he moves to hug you from behind.

your heart flutters wildly in your chest. recently, you weren’t used to this kind of attention.

“goodnight.” you mutter in return.

“hey, (Y/N)?”

“yeah?”

“could i talk to you?”

your ears kept surprising you.

“of course. anytime.”

he stays there for a moment, hands reaching for yours.

he squeezes them. “i’ll tell you some other time.” he lets go of your fingers, getting up to prepare for bed.

“goodnight.” he repeats.

“goodnight!” you repeat.

once he had left, you let out a breath you didn’t even known you’d been holding. you lay on the couch, hands grazing over your racing heart, and then to your face.

you were smiling.

previous | masterlist | next

TAGLIST ☆☎☂♔

@stfucanunot @sunaswife @sredamancy @kiyobbie @kairebear-4evr @youngestdelacour @kara-grayson04

NOTES ☀♕❣⁂ღ

most of the toxicity is based off of my life??? combined with things i think suna would do??? so everything may not be accurate, but i’m open to constructive criticism, but pls be nice hehe <3

#suna #rintaro #suna rintaro #rintaro suna #suna rintaro x reader #suna rintaro imagine #suna rintaro angst #suna rintaro series #inarizaki #ejp raijin #haikyuu!!#haikyuu imagines #haikyuu #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu series #ファラ it was good until it wasn’t

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dindjarindiaries · 4 years ago

Text

Bittersweet - Chapter 1: The Headache and a Half

summary: You come into work already preoccupied just to find out there’s a whole other group of people you’ll be working with, and you have to watch Marcus’ eyes wander.

warnings: pining right out of the gate, light angst, kinda-cringey beginning but stick with it, also i really don’t know anything about the fbi and i also only watched the episodes marcus was in so i’m sorry if things look really wrong lol

rating: T

word count: 4.612k

masterlist ⟹ next part

chapter 1: the headache and a half

You stand in the church with both your hands in those of a stranger, a man whose face is hidden from you—but you don’t seem to care about it. You’re dressed in all white with a veil to match, feeling elated yet torn apart at the same time. You don’t know why. You’re getting married and you’re supposed to be happy about that.

Except part of your heart feels empty, as if this isn’t right—as if this shouldn’t be the man standing there. But you don’t even know who this man is. How could you possibly know that?

Your thoughts are broken apart by the sound of the church door flying open and gasps of surprise from the guests. You look and feel your eyes double in size at the sight.

It’s Pike, standing there in all his soft glory, already dressed up for the occasion.

“Wait!” he exclaims. You’re eagerly studying the knit in his brow that shows his desperation and the glow of his dark eyes that beg for you to listen. “Don’t do it.” Marcus stops only when he’s at the base of the altar you’re standing on, his gaze locked in yours as he continues. “I should’ve told you before—so long ago—but I’ll tell you now.” He pauses to take a deep breath. “It’s you. It’s always been you. I’m in love with you.”

There’s another gasp throughout the church, but you feel that hesitance you’d had before finally dissipate at his words—and you realize that’s exactly what you’ve been waiting for. You separate from the man you’re standing across from to smile down at Marcus. “I love you too, Marcus,” you say with a voice full of disbelief and unshed tears. “I always have—and I always will.”

Marcus finally smiles in the same way you do, his eyes smaller yet brighter as they wrinkle up in the way you adore so much. He reaches out a hand to help you get down the steps to meet him, his hands remaining tight in yours as he looks down at you. No words are said—you’ve already spoken enough—and your gazes soon fall to each other’s lips. You lean closer and closer together, already starting to let your eyelids flutter closed, heart racing at the prospect of what’s to come, feeling his breath on your face, when finally—

—your alarm goes off, alerting you to the fact that it’s 7:15 in the morning and you have to get ready for work.

You release a groan as you slap your hand down against the clock, hands reaching for your spare pillow and stuffing it over your face. You scream into it, glad that it drowns out the sounds so your neighbors don’t think you’re being murdered. You might as well be. Having a dream like that makes you wish you were dead because what the hell even was that?

You toss the pillow aside again and sigh heavily, staring at the ceiling as you shake your head. “I’ve been watching too many romcoms,” you tell yourself, running your hands over your face. You haven’t even made it to work yet and you’re already starting to get a headache.

As you roll out of bed and get ready for the day, you think about how this sadly isn’t the first time you’ve had a dream like that. Now, the whole marriage-in-the-church-with-him-bursting-through-the-door is most definitely a newer and deeper context, but having dreams about your work partner of countless years is something you’ve become more and more used to. Thanks to your unrequited feelings for him, you’re bound to keep having dreams like this as long as your heart decides that it wants to torture you day-in and day-out.

But it also doesn’t help that you have to go into the office every day and work side-by-side with the man himself.

Marcus Pike isn’t the type to break your heart—consciously. You’ve known him for a long time, now, having both come into your jobs at the FBI around the same time. Obviously sharing many of the same interests thanks to the art-centered focus of your work, you became close quickly, which was helped by the fact that you were partners. Ever since, you’ve been close friends, and while you wouldn’t exactly coin the term “best friend” for Marcus, you know it’s pretty close—if it wasn’t for your best friend who already takes the spot.

Speaking of the devil, you hear a dinging come from the phone still on your bedside table, and you finish buttoning up your shirt to walk over and see what the notification is. You bite back a smile as you read the message.

andy💞: good morning, miss thing! here’s your daily reminder to make sure you stop dreaming about mr. perfect and get ready for work!😌

You shake your head and feel your cheeks heat up despite the fact Andy’s not even here to see it. She’s been your best friend ever since college, where you met each other at your first party and spilled out all your life problems to each other in the girl’s bathroom after drinking way too much vodka. After freshman year, she became your roommate and your faithful confidante through life. You’ve stayed close, even though she had to move to the city in New York for work and you went to Texas, texting you everyday and calling you at least a few times a week. Recently, she’s been preoccupied with helping you through your pining problems.

me: very funny, andrea. but you don’t even wanna hear about last night’s dream.

You send the message and put the phone down, refusing to entertain whatever curiosity you’ve pulled out of Andy now. Instead, you dwell more on the problems at hand. You wish you could get the image of Marcus bursting into your wedding out of your head, feeling embarrassed at the fact that your subconscious even created it in the first place.

Somewhere along the way of working with Marcus, you started developing feelings that went past the co-worker line. And then the friendship line. And now you don’t even know where the hell it lands. All you know is that you think about him way more than you should. Especially his smile… it’s so bright and downright adorable with that little dimple of his… and when his eyes crinkle up, oh it’s so—.

You stop and look in the mirror where you’re doing your makeup, slapping your own cheek to push those thoughts from your mind.

It happened at some point when you started to talk as more than coworkers, to learn things about Marcus that you know he hasn’t talked to many others about, including his divorce. You know what he’s been through and, in exchange for the deep truths he’s told you, he also knows what you’ve been through. This isn’t including the shared trauma you have at the things you’ve seen and done on the job together. That’s why he’s one of the only people you tolerate in that office.

Well… “tolerate” doesn’t really do your true feelings for Marcus any justice.

You huff as you finish your routine, finally going back out to your room and picking your phone up from the bedside table. There’s another text there and you’re already wishing you could send a punch through the phone.

andy💞: first of all, ‘andrea?’ rude??😤 second of all um ma’am now i NEED to know what happened.

Your gaze drifts to the ceiling for a moment as you release a heavy breath.

me: let’s just say it involved a church and a wedding dress.

You feel embarrassed even typing out the words, but you dread the moment when you see those three dots pop up in a bubble at the corner of the screen.

andy💞: oh shit, don’t tell me you married him LMAO😭

me: it’s worse than that.🤦‍♀️

andy💞: how can it possibly be worse than that???

me: listen, i’ll call you after work and tell you, kay? i gotta go.

You sigh when you lock your phone decisively, gathering the rest of your belongings and heading out of your humble apartment. After you make your way down to the lobby and get into your car, you fall back into the seat with a heavy sigh, groaning when your temples already start to tighten up into a tension headache.

Just what you need to go into work with.

The drive finds you numbly swimming through your thoughts as you go through the typical routine of your everyday suffering. Well, if you’re being honest, that’s a dramatic way to describe it. But still. You can never decide if you’re relieved to get to work and see your partner-of-long or if you’re dreading it. Having to face your partner after dreaming about him is… well, not ideal. You’re grateful that he doesn’t pick up on your awkwardness, though. Or, if he does, he never tells you. You’re equally as grateful for that.

You see a text on your phone from Andy but choose to ignore it, not needing the additional stress nor the reminder of your dream as you park in your usual spot in the garage. You hike your small bag on your shoulder and head inside the building, only taking a moment to refocus yourself once you’re inside the elevator. Your eyes fall closed as you release a heavy sigh, rubbing two of your fingers against each temple as you wiggle your jaw. You hope that the caffeine you know is already awaiting you on your desk will be a relief to the pain you’re experiencing. The doors open and you wince a bit as the fluorescents invade your vision, not helping your headache as you trudge over to your collection of desks.

To your surprise, there’s only the coffee sitting on your desk, still steaming—and no Marcus there to greet you as usual.

You don’t know if you’re grateful for that or saddened by it. All you do is give a light huff as you set down your bag, picking up the mug and giving it a daring taste. It’s perfect just like it always is. Marcus always pays attention to detail. The thought makes you smile—and for a brief moment, it makes you hopeful. Just like it always does. Every single morning.

The feeling quickly fades. You hold tight to your mug as you walk out of the cluster of desks, peering through the glass walls to see where Marcus—and the rest of your team, for that matter—could be. It’s highly unusual for them not to be crowding in a group around somebody’s desk, either studying a new case or trying to look up information on thieves you’ve been hunting for months. You find yourself hit with a large wave of shock when you walk out to see Marcus in one of the floor’s main conference rooms, sitting beside a blonde woman who’s obviously distressed. There are others in there with him who look familiar, but you know they’re not from your team.

They’re from the homicide team. You suddenly feel your headache intensify at the prospect of what this could mean. Through the glass, your gaze meets Marcus’, and his brow lifts as he gives you a look that practically says I’ll explain everything in a second. You give him a nod and draw a long sip from your coffee, holding back a wince when your temples tighten up painfully. The caffeine has to work its magic fast, or else you’ll be clocked out for the day before you’ve even really clocked in.

A few minutes later, you watch as Marcus stands up from his seat, a few others following as he heads out of the conference room. You stand and wait for him to meet you, his dark eyes glittering in a way that already informs you that you’ve got quite the situation on your hands. Once Marcus is in hearing range, you speak out.

“Is that the homicide team?” you question, raising an eyebrow as Marcus walks alongside you back to your cluster of desks.

“Yep,” Marcus answers, popping the “p” as he lets you step inside the glassed-off area first. You lean against your desk as Marcus tosses a pile of files onto his, standing with his hands on his hips in front of you as he continues. “This morning, there was a robbery during the local exhibition setup—including a murder.”

You exhale deeply and force more coffee down your throat, realizing that your physical headache is just the first one you’ll be getting today. “That’s more action than we’re used to.”

“Yeah,” Marcus agrees, crossing his arms now as he takes a quick look outside of the glass. “Now, the homicide team’s stepping in to help us.” He looks back to you. “Which, you know, means they’ll be leading the mission.”

“Obviously,” you murmur. Not that you’re not grateful for their work, but the agents who work in the homicide department have always been hailed as the heroes of the FBI. Patrick Jane is especially the one mentioned by many, with his ability to read people making him particularly noteworthy. You hold back a scoff at them stepping into the art theft department, likely eager to make your work look like some kind of opportunity for them to show off even more. “Not that I’d really want to deal with a murderer on our own.”

“Exactly.” Marcus finally walks over to join you at your side, leaning against your desk as he looks down at you. “How’s your morning been so far?”

You try to hide a smile as you shrug up at him. It’s a question Marcus asks you everyday without fail. “The usual.”

Marcus lifts an eyebrow. “So, getting pestered with texts from Andy?”

You laugh and widen your eyes for dramatic effect, taking another sip of coffee. “You know how the daily ritual goes.” You pause for a moment, debating on whether or not to tell him that you’ve been distracted and stressed all morning to the point of giving yourself a tension headache bad enough to make you sensitive to the fluorescents hanging above you. The only problem is, you know he’ll ask you why—and you don’t have a good lie thought up just yet.

Marcus beats you to it. “What else?” You look into his dark gaze to see it observing you closely, as if he knows something’s wrong. He always does.

Your shoulders sag a little as you stare back out beyond the glass. “I just didn’t sleep well.” You sigh as you pick through your half-lie. “I was stressed about it all morning and now I’ve given myself a headache from hell.” You look back up at him with a slightly-amused expression. “And hearing about this whole joint-operation with the homicide team is—.”

“—not the best remedy.” Marcus finishes the thought for you, giving you a nod in understanding. “I’m sorry. That sucks. Losing sleep is no joke.” He sits up a little taller and gestures with his thumb over towards his desk. “I think I have some stuff for a headache, if you need it.”

You smile gratefully at him. “Thanks, Pike, but that’s probably not the best idea.” When Marcus furrows his brow, you look down at your nearly-empty mug of coffee with shame. “I may or may not have completely forgotten to eat breakfast, so I’m running on an empty stomach.”

Marcus tuts at you, shaking his head with the ghost of a smile on his lips. “You gotta’ start taking better care of yourself, partner.” He fully stands up from the desk, walking over to his. “Thankfully, I’ve got just the thing.” Marcus opens a drawer of his desk to reveal not only the aforementioned bottle of pills, but also a granola bar.

You shake your head as he hands both items to you. “You don’t have to, Pike.”

“I know.” Marcus sticks his hands into his pockets as he lets his smile grow. “But if you’re not gonna take care of yourself, then I will.”

You fight hard to keep the heat from rising to your cheeks as you reach for the bottle of water in your bag and use that to swallow down two of the pills, handing the bottle back to Marcus before unwrapping the granola bar. As you eat it, you question Marcus for more information. “So, what’s on the docket for today, then?”

Marcus sighs and lets his gaze drift to the ceiling, as if he’s picturing the agenda in his mind. “Well, I’ve got a briefing to do with Fischer in about…” Marcus trails off as he looks down to the watch on his wrist, “ten minutes. Then, it’s all up to the homicide team. We’ll basically just be here as resources to help guide them.”

You nod and take another bite of the bar in your hand. “I assume I’ll get all the information I need in the briefing.”

Marcus nods to confirm your words. “I’ll try to make it nice and clear—and I’ll deal with their team.”

You shake your head as you stare up at him. “I couldn’t let you do that, Pike.”

Marcus gives his hand a wave. “It’s fine, partner. I’ll learn their ways—and then we can take them for ourselves.”

You snicker and raise an eyebrow. “So that’s why you want to handle it.”

“Nooo.” Marcus tries to refuse your words, but he does a terrible job as a mischievous smile appears on his lips. “Listen, I’ve got it, alright? Unless you wanna help.”

You scoff and finish off the granola bar. “No offense to them, but I’m not feeling particularly eager to work with a whole other department when this one’s got me crazed enough.”

Marcus laughs, patting your shoulder before he picks his files back up from his desk. He moves to head off, but stops in front of you, looking into your gaze seriously. “Hang in there. I’ll try to keep things short and sweet so we can get in and get out.” You give him a nod, and he pats your shoulder again before walking off towards the briefing room. You release a sigh and close your eyes for a moment, trying not to overthink his friendly actions nor remember what you’d dreamt about just hours before. You’re unsuccessful in both and it starts to reverse the effects of the pills you’ve taken.

Minutes later, you’re heading off to the briefing room yourself, taking a seat somewhere far away from the small crowd that’s closest to Marcus and Kim Fischer of the homicide department. You take out your notebook and release a soft breath, the tip of your pen bouncing against the paper as you wait for the clock to strike upon the hour. While you appreciated Marcus’ help in aiding your headache, it still hasn’t faded, and the way you’re clenching your jaw right now is surely a reason as to why. But you can’t help it. You feel on edge more than ever with this situation involving a whole other department—and you feel like something’s off.

During the briefing, you realize what.

Sitting just in front of Marcus is another famed agent from the homicide team, Teresa Lisbon. That’s a name you’ve heard more commonly in break rooms when you’re refilling your coffee and end up hearing the gossip of the building. Her name is almost always associated with Jane’s and you’ve caught on to the fact that—in a way quite similar to you and Marcus, actually—they’ve been partners forever and it’s led many to believe that they’re an item. But it still hasn’t happened. And now, you watch as her and Marcus share more than a few gazes during the meeting.

But you’re probably overthinking this. Right?

Yeah, you think to yourself, because the crazy woman who has romantic dreams of her partner at night gets to judge another woman and get jealous if she shares a few gazes with her partner. Totally entitled to all of that.

You roll your eyes at yourself and lean your elbow against the armrest of your chair, willing all your strength not to close your eyes and hide yourself from the sight.

Marcus sticks to his word and keeps what he has to say short and sweet. You write down whatever’s important but let yourself tune out what you don’t think is as necessary. You’re not usually the type to space out during briefings—you’ve always been known for your precision—but this situation feels far out of your hands as an art theft agent and more in the hands of those who sit around you. Once the briefing ends, you nearly exclaim a hallelujah, standing from your chair and beelining for your desk. A few moments after you plop down into your chair, Marcus appears yet again, his hands resting on the edge of the desk as you smile up at him.

“Nicely done, Agent Pike,” you inform him, watching as he gives you a nod in thanks. “So, it’s their move next?”

“Yeah,” Marcus confirms your words. “They’re making a plan, and they’re letting me in on it.”

You furrow your brow. “And not me?”

Marcus hesitates, his dark eyes searching yours as he lets out a soft sigh. “Yes, you, but here’s the thing.” Marcus crosses his arms as you anticipate his explanation. “You don’t seem like yourself today—so I want you to catch up on your sleep.” You’re about to argue when Marcus continues. “It’s okay, it happens, and nobody has to know.” Marcus lowers his voice as he goes on. “You can head home for a while, sleep as much as you need to, and if you feel up for it, you can come back tonight and join me here. Does that sound good? Or am I being a patronizing prick?”

You chuckle a bit at that and shake your head, giving him a small and relieved smile. “That sounds great, Pike. Thank you so much.”

Marcus simply nods again, reaching across your desk to pat your shoulder before he heads away. You release a sigh and stand up from your chair, hanging your bag on your shoulder as you make your escape. Your head is still pounding and your eyelids feel heavier at the idea of getting to sleep as you step onto the elevator. You can’t bring yourself to think of what you’ll miss but you do know that you feel embarrassed at the cause of your physical suffering. If Marcus knew, he probably wouldn’t be this kind to you about it.

Who are you kidding. It’s Marcus. He’d probably be even nicer about it.

As you walk to your car, you finally unlock your phone, seeing a leftover text from Andy.

andy💞: you better. i’m off work today, so i’ll be waiting.🥱

You shake your head as you sit inside, clipping your phone into the hands-free contraption suctioned to your windshield as you take off and call Andy. It only rings once before she picks up.

“Finally!” Andy exclaims overdramatically. “But also, shouldn’t you be working right now?”

“I should,” you agree, keeping your eyes on the road as you navigate your way back to your apartment, “but Pike sent me home to get some sleep.”

“He—what?” Andy’s obviously confused. “Did you tell him about the dream, or—?”

“No, Andy!” Your answer comes quick and loud. “Why the hell would I ever do that?”

“I don’t know! So that you’re not lying to him all the time?”

“That’d be awkward as hell. I’m never doing that.” You huff as you turn your wheel. “Anyway, Marcus just reads me well. He could tell I was off. I mean, I do have a headache that’s bordering dangerously on a migraine.”

“A Marcus-induced migraine?”

You bite your lip and tighten your hands around the wheel in annoyance at both yourself and Andy. “Possibly.”

Andy chuckles a bit on the other end of the line. “Ah, his power. If only he knew.”

“He won’t.”

“But can I? You still haven’t explained what happened!”

And so, in the time it takes for you to reach your apartment, you explain to Andy everything about your dream and what you could of what’s happened since then. Andy, of course, goes crazy over your romcom-esque dream, and she squeals at the drama of the situation you’re currently in with a whole other department filling your shoes. You even mention the looks you’d witnessed between Marcus and Teresa earlier.

“They gazed at each other? Multiple times?” Andy gasps dramatically. “How scandalous.”

“Shut up,” you wince, parking your car and trapping your phone between your ear and your shoulder as you get out. “Look, I’m sure it’s nothing and I’m just overthinking it, but… I know she’s got some kind of history with her partner and if something really does go down, I don’t wanna see Marcus get hurt again.”

“Or, you just wanna see him with you.”

You sigh and push your way inside your apartment building. “Fair point. That’s probably why I’m overthinking it.”

“I think you might be, Miss Thing. This isn’t a Jane Austen novel. They probably just looked at each other because briefings sound boring as hell and they didn’t know where else to look.”

“Probably.” You whimper once you get into your apartment and inside your bedroom, flopping down onto the bed as you close your eyes. “I feel so pathetic and creepy talking about Marcus like this, Andy. I shouldn’t be analyzing his every breath.”

“Hey, that’s what happens when you like someone. It’s fine. You’ll live, he’ll live, and life will work its way out. For now, you should probably take Marcus’ advice and sleep.”

You nod to agree, despite the fact Andy can’t see you. “Yeah, you’re right. I’ll talk to you later, Andy. Love ya’.”

“Love you more, girl. Sleep well and try not to dream of Marcus for once.”

You snort and shake your head. “I will.” You hang up and let out a deep breath, your brow furrowing together as you notice a new text notification. You open it up and you hate the way your heart practically leaps at the sight of Marcus’ contact name.

marcus🥞: Make sure you get some quality sleep, partner. Things are getting… interesting here and I miss having you around. I have a lot to fill you in on once you get here.

You smile to yourself as you type your response.

me: you got it, pike. try not to have too much fun without me. just pretend i’m there to roll my eyes.🙄

You start to let yourself settle into bed—regardless of your work clothes—and take one last look at your phone before you comply with Marcus’ request.

marcus🥞: I’ll try my best.🥴 Text me with how you’re feeling when you wake up.

me: roger that👍

You bite back a smile as you put your phone on your bedside table and relax against your pillow, already feeling your headache starting to fade in the face of Marcus’ kindness—and completely unknowing of the one that’s awaiting you the moment you step back into that building.

masterlist ⟹ next part

if you’d like to be added to the bittersweet tag list, let me know!

permanent tag list: @mikahid @bestintheparsec @stilllivindue2spite @givemethatgold @xbrujita @mandalorianspace @blushingwueen @sevvysaurus @myakai13 @thisis-theway @beskars @rachelloveseveryone @theindiealto @hiscyarika @burningsoulbloodyheart @wickedfrsgrl @synystersilenceinblacknwhite @bookwafflefangirl @charliepeaceout @cable-kenobi @ezraslittleblondestreak @hdlynn @your-pixels-are-showing @b0n-chann @nettyklecan @javier-djarin @chibi-liz05

#i didn't edit this i'm sorry lol but uh #yeehaw?#how we feelin?#idk how i feel but i promise it'll get better and less cringey lol #marcus pike #marcus pike x reader #the mentalist #dindjarindiaries #bittersweet fic

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jungwnn · 3 years ago

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Hiiiii😚 i wanna request for a ship with txt, enhypen and bts, thank you soo much for taking the time to do this!☺ I hope you have a good day, stay healthy and take care for yourself🤗

INFP-T | enneagram type 4 | sun: Sagittarius, moon: Cancer | Hate studying anything except English | Competitive when it comes to things I love and am passionate about | Like creative writing and interior designing(basically architecture) | Novels over movies | Even if i watch movies its either action or angst-drama, and always like the evil characters more than the good ones because I'm able to sort of understand why they do what they do, I believe everything has a reason, and every action is a result of something | I also believe in soulmates, love at first sight and all sorts of tropes like these | Obsessed with Greek and Roman mythology and ancient Egypt and just in general medieval eras | Love taking polaroid pictures and traveling | Aesthetic all the way, love being in the nature | I love fairylights and abstract paintings and night walks and stargazing | Love sad things | I'm sensitive to smell and don't like artificial scents | I like going to libraries and museums and cathedrals and old medieval buildings, beaches also and other nature aesthetic places | Always observing little details about everything that other people fail to notice | Easily scared or startled | Have huge trust issues and very sensitive | Have very few friends and am loyal before anything | I'm moved by little things and don't really like much of fancy dates, I like it simple and my favorite would be walk along the beach at night | Am very open-minded and wise but no one's really aware of that | Like disturbing people and then giving puppy eyes | Shy at first but when you get close with me I'm very loud, talkative, playful and annoyingly funny and weird | Just realized it yesterday that i tend to 'huh' a Lot | Clingy with people I am very close to(might even jump and koala hug them tbh) | Everyone's comfort pillar | Very expressive with words and actions | CLUMSY(I hit or bump into something at least once a day) | Love eating (taking advantage of my never getting fat genes lol) but am sort of quite picky | 5'2 - 157cm and I like tall people but I have no problem connecting with people on the shorter side of the height spectrum | Baby voice and baby face | side bangs and dark brown short almost straight hair which reaches just 4cms above the shoulders | Big chocolate brown eyes | Have slightly honey tanned skin | I'm a crybaby too, like if someone I love or care a lot about is getting scolded for whatever reason or they are sad or something then I tend to cry immediately. And while watching or reading sad things too | I do random sounds or actions too and I noticed recently I go 'huh' and 'uh' all the time | sometimes I don't even understand myself like a few days back I was wearing a black sock on my left foot and a white one on my right and then i forgot that i wore mismatched socks so when I noticed it after a while I got fascinated for literally no reason then within seconds i forgot about it again and then when it came to my notice again i got fascinated again and this went on the whole day lmao | My fashion style leans towards boho chic/bohemian and casual | And prefer bare face over makeup and converse over other footwear and dusk(sunset) over dawn(sunrise) but in the album I like dawn ver more🤭 | I love spicy and sour food and have a high tolerance of spice | And my love languages are acts of service>physical touch>quality time>words of affirmation.

YOU SOUND SO INTERESTING AND COOL LETS BE FRIENDS 🙄✋

in txt i ship you with!! Beomgyu !!

pls I can already already see yall fighting over movie chararters😭 I just get the vibe y’all met in a really weird way like he was reaching over to grab a random ass toy and you were too and bam!!! Talking, numbers exchanged. He instantly fell in love with you dude. Like gyu isn’t one to simp but your the exception here. Like dude had a big smile when you responded to his text message. Will he ever tell you that he would bounce up like a puppy whenever he got even a notification hoping it was you?? No. Never. That never happened I swear. There was a time where kai texted and was like “hey soobin said practice in an hour” and gyu straight out texted back “idiot shush I’m waiting” and Kai was just like ??? “...ur weird” basically gyu is literally in love with you from the beginning like it’s insane. That doesn’t stop him from teasing you though. Dude you better stay on high alert this dude is constantly pranking you. They are all harmless but if he ever did hurt you or do something wrong. He will instantly hug you and literally apologize all day and shower you in love. Just finding comfort in each other!! Like he is always there to listen to you talk about anything and just comfort you, He also trust you enough to share his issues! He loves to call you idiot all the time but he says it in the sweetest way or just to tease. He also loves to carry you, it makes him feel super tall ( esp when moas be calling him tiny 😭) also sleepy gyu!! Clingy!!! Let’s say y’all went on a date just a quick ice cream and a walk around the park right, He would look at you and be like “your so pretty~” then you look up and be like “huh? What did you say?” And he would just pull you closer to his side and be like “nothing idiot~” in the same cheeky sweet tone. Then later on that day y’all would just to hang out on the couch cuddled up. He was obviously tired since he was yawning every five seconds. He pulled you against his chest and just started mumbling about how happy he was to have you!! But that’s for your ears only!!

Your overall relationship would consist of:

☼lots and lots screaming like dude is loud but he is expressing his love so it’s okay!

☼movie marathons!!

☼pls don’t use puppy eyes on him he’ll cry at how cute you are

☼let him kiss your forehead and your head he wants to be tall

☼he makes u meals but sometimes they burnt 😣

☼brags abt you all the time like I’m pretty sure taehyun knows your favorite food and your birthday by how much gyu talks

☼he loves listening to you talk abt your interest and fascinations !!

so for Enhypen I ship you with !! Mr.Jake sim!

I just know this boy loves you for your witts bro, like.. how can you be so smart, interesting and pretty at the same time?? Like you completely captured this boys heart!! He loves hearing you talk about Roman and Greek mythology and ancient Egypt!! He thinks it’s honestly so amazing to listen to you speak about your interest🥺 He has this thing, where like whenever you do something cute or he just looks at your face he just walks over and squishes your cheeks. He loves loves loves showing physical affection! He WANTS you to know that you are the light of his life and you make him so so happy!! He talks abt Layla to you all the time and even called you her mom like WOAH. Speaking of mom, Jake gives me the vibe he talks to his parents about you!! Like mans is so serious abt you he just adores you!! Dude is so worried about you when you bump into things, like let’s say you accidentally hit a wall. He will be by your side in a second telling you to be more careful them kissing your forehead. He calls you princess 🧍(HAVE U SEEN THAT ONE FAN CALL BYE) he also treats you like a princess as he should. I have a feeling when he can’t see you in person he calls you and y’all will fall asleep on call. like he would be all sleepy and be like “i miss you :(“ and just talk about your guys day and it would be so sweet!! I’m sure you get the idea !! He’s in L word with you hardcore!!

Your overall relationship would consist of!!

☼he always buys snacks for you because he wants his baby to eat well

☼he is a romantic he loves taking walks on the beach with u!! (And Layla)

☼always compliments your eyes !!

☼always gets you flowers or lil things that remind him of you !

☼he has you as his wallpaper!

☼if y’all go see scary movies together he will most definitely try to act tough and protect you but he fails and hides his face in your neck

☼CHEEK KISSES!!!

for bts I ship you with !! Kim taehyung himself !!

okay okay!! I feel like taehyung loves your mind, he loves hearing your side of things and just loves everything about the way you think! He truly thinks your a piece of art !! like homeboy just loves spending time with you and just talking. He is a hopeless romantic like he loves taking you out to dates that mean a lot to both of you! He takes you to art museums and beaches and takes so many pictures of you!! he has a whole folder dedicated to you!! He also loves hanging out with you and your guys friends!! He just wants everyone to know he’s with you forever and ever!! He is the kinda dude to rest his elbow on your head like deadass just to tease you. He takes you to his hometown often because like I said he wants a future with you!! Expect a lot of snacks from his mom because she adores how happy you make him and he is just!! ugh you lucky lucky girl!! He likes to travel with you, like he can be so unpredictable!! dude will sit there and go “for dinner can we get pizza? Also I got us a trip to Paris for my week off” LIKE OKAY WE GET IT YOUR RICH!! But good for you I guess🙄 also matching outfits. He’s buying you a matching beret and your gna wear for that boxy smile idc. He looked at your matching socks and instantly wanted to try and now he claims it’s the coolest shit ever like Yoongi is always like “why tf?? You bought these in pairs?” Like mind your business Yoongi. His baby does it so he wants to do it too !!🙄✋

overall relationship!!

☼kisses on the lips all the time

☼plane ride cuddles

☼ur boyfriend is your professional photographer

☼pls tell him he’s a good boyfriend he just wants to make you happy

☼always talks to you abt the future <3

☼no joke he has y’all’s kids names planned

☼fun fact.. he bought you a promise ring 😣

a/n aaa!! I hope you like it!! I’m so sorry for the wait!!

#enhypen #enhypen x reader #enhypen imagines #jake enhypen #jake imagines #jake sim #beomgyu imagines #beomgyu x reader #tommrow x together imagine #choi beomgyu #bts imagines #bts #bts taehyung #taehyung imagine #taehyung x reader

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houseisekai · 4 years ago

Text

House Miisekai Prologue: The Adventure Begins!

House Miisekai Masterlist Here

====

Our story begins in the land of Miisekaitopia! (No, I couldn't think of a better name.)

It is a world where everyone from both storylines and unholy amounts of AU's can live in peace without worrying about wars breaking out every 4 seconds.

At least it was.

The darkness came without warning, a great and terrible shadow threatening all of Miisekaitopia! An unspeakably huge dick came and stole everyone's faces! Then, to add insult to injury, put those faces onto monsters across the land!

But, we shall follow the perspective of Sara Valestein, Instructor of Class VII and the original House Isekai...

Sara casually strolled through the hills, enjoying the sunlight and wind blowing gently across her.

(Sara) "...Goddess I am so bored."

She had been kicked out of yet another bar recently for drinking too much.

Again.

Left with nothing to do, she decided to take a trip to nowhere in particular, going wherever fate took her.

Sara continued muttering to herself, mocking the established "rules" for drinking in a tavern until she noticed something flying in the air.

(Sara) "Is...that a face?"

She rubbed her eyes to make sure she wasn't seeing things, and saw the eyes slowly float over to a nearby butterfly.

(Sara) "Uh...?"

(Sara) "GAH!"

The horrific creature began floating faster towards Sara, which prompted her to run full speed ahead towards the closest town.

As she ran out of breath, she ran towards anyone would even take a minute to listen.

(Sara) "H-Hey, there's some freaky bug thing out there with a human face!"

BE-LOP!

Tiny lines of text ran down the guide's face.

It showed too many messages at once for her to properly read it, and the person remained completely still.

(Sara) "...Hello?"

(Everyone) "..."

(Sara) "...Right."

Sara moved to the next person she saw.

...

Sara saw a platypus with a name tag 'Perry' calmly sitting on the market stall.

(Sara) "Hello, anyone here?"

The platypus stared at her, not saying a word.

(Sara) "...What in the hell is with this town?"

Next try. That would probably work.

...

(Anakin) "What did we get ourselves into this time?"

(Obi-Wan) "I'm not sure but...I do not like this a single bit."

(Anakin) "At least you're in a taller body, my head barely reaches your stomach!"

(Obi-Wan) "It's not the first time."

(Sara) "Hey, excuse me ma'aaaaaaaaaa...What in the?"

(Anakin) "Listen lady, we got our own problems right now. We're not in the mood-"

(Obi-Wan) "What my young padawan means is that we unfortunately cannot spare any help if you need it ma'am."

(Sara) "...Evidently."

Sara nervously walked away from the two grown men in a child and woman's body.

(Sonia) "Did we get transported again?"

(Gundham) "By the works of dark magic, no doubt..."

(Sonia) "Oh, looks like there's someone over there. Hello ma'am, do you know where we are?"

(Sara) "Eh?...Huh. That's a good question. Where is this?"

(Sonia) "Oh well, I'm a bit more comfortable knowing that someone I like is with me here!"

(Gundham) "I...uh...er..."

(Sara) "That's cute. Ah, to be young again..."

Sara left the two to talk amongst themselves before finding the next...person?

It was an extremely fat rabbit that was grey and white.

(Sara) "What in the hell-"

BIG BIG CHUNGUS, BIG CHUNGUS, BIG-

(Sara) "Okay, screw that."

Sara finally saw the mayor and approached him, and when he turned she almost jumped.

It was a Piranha plant. She thought so anyway, it was covered in white polka dots and bright red.

(Plant) "Ah, welcome to the town miss?"

(Sara) "Uh, Sara. Sara Valestein. Listen, there's this weird face that attached itself to a butterfly outside your place! You're gonna do something right?"

(Plant) "Did...did you say a face float down? OH NO."

(Familiar Man's voice) "OH YES."

(Sara) ?

(Anakin) "Uh, master?"

(Obi-Wan) "I've got a bad feeling about this..."

The platypus, fat rabbit, and the discord notification looked up into the skies, getting increasingly alarmed.

(Gundham) "THIS DARKNESS...IT'S...IT'S OVERWHELMING!"

(Sonia) "His voice sounds grating like Souda's..."

(Plant) "COINS PRESERVE US! IT'S..."

[Imperial Will - Final Fantasy XIV OST]

(Dark Lord Chris) "KNEEL BEFORE YOUR GOD, AND OFFER YOUR FACES UNTO ME!"

(Sara) "...Faces? You mean like services or...?"

(Anakin) "Maybe that's metaphorical?"

(Obi-Wan) "I'm not sure I want to find out-"

(Chris) "NO, YOU REALLY DON'T. ALSO NO. I MEAN IT LITERALLY!"

Several faces began to fly off the townspeople.

First was the platypus's face, quickly followed by the discord notification and Anakin's.

(Obi-Wan) "ANAKIN!"

Then it was Sonia and the fat rabbit's faces that floated next to Chris.

(Gundham) "AAAAAAAGH!"

(Plant) "OH MY GOD, THIS IS HORRIBLE!"

(Sara) "Can someone tell me what the hell is happening?!-"

(Chris) "THESE NOW BELONG TO ME! NOW, GO TELL THE OTHERS WHAT YOU'VE SEEN HERE, FOR I WILL BE COMING FOR THEM NEXT!"

Chris flew off into the skies, the faces following closely behind.

(Sara) "What an asshole!"

(Plant) "ADVENTURER, PLEASE YOU HAVE TO HELP US!"

(Sara) "Right uh..."

Sara reached for her sword and pistol, which was nowhere to be found.

(Sara) "Well, that's just great..."

Obi-Wan struggled to walk over to here, still not accustomed to his body and looked at Sara.

(Obi-Wan) "Ma'am, I'm afraid I cannot go into battle myself to assist with this matter. And we don't appear to have our weapons either..."

(Sara) "So, what do you reckon I do? Ask nicely?"

...

(Sara) "Damn it."

OUTSIDE OF TOWN...

Chris was floating away from the town when Sara finally caught up to him.

(Sara) "HEY, JACKASS!"

(Chris) "...Oh, you mean me. I-I mean, OH, IS SOMEONE TRYING TO BE THE HERO NOW?"

(Sara) "Don't play smart with me you glasses wearing freak! Give back their faces!"

(Chris) "Or what? You're going to fight me?"

Sara cracked her knuckles.

(Chris) "...Oh shit. Uh, here have it."

The face slowly floated over to a slime, which reattached itself and began hopping towards Sara.

(Anakin's voice) "OH MAN, I THOUGHT THE KID BODY WAS BAD!"

(Chris) "Uh anyways, LATER!"

Chris quickly flew away from Sara, leaving her and Anakin's face on a slime.

(Sara) "Alright, LET'S GO!"

Sara drove her fist into the slime, which quickly bounced off.

(Sara) "...Oh right. It's a slime."

The slime retaliated by knocking Sara onto her back.

(Anakin's voice) "Sorry!"

(Sara) "Damn, my weapons aren't anywhere to be found either!

"I AM THOU...THOU ART I..."

(Sara) "Oh, what is it now-HURK?!"

Sara reached for her head as the voice boomed thunderously.

"THOU ART...Okay, no we're not rhyming. I'm your guardian spirit, Sara!"

(Sara) "Really now? And where were you during Erebonia?!"

"ANYWAYS, it seems you're in a bit of trouble! Do you need some help?"

(Sara) "It's either getting help or getting killed by a damn slime of all things, so...Yeah, sure."

"Good choice! Now, I bestow upon you the awesome power of the guardian!"

(Sara) "You're gonna explain later where I got this from, right?"

"That depends, do you want the plot to get moving? Our other posts are slowed down as it is, and this has gotten too meta in just the first few lines of this."

(Sara) "Ugh, fine."

Sara's outfit shined forth and became donned in armor, wielding a new sword.

(Sara) "Hey, you cheap bastard, where's my gun?!"

"This is a fantasy RPG, why would you get a gun? Just kill the damn slime already!"

(Anakin's voice) "WHO ARE YOU TALKING TO?!"

(Sara) "Hold on, I'll getcha outta there, HIYA!"

[COOL QUIRK: WEAK POINT]

Sara took one swing of her sword and smacked the slime into the floor, it quickly disappearing.

Anakin's face floated off the slime and back to the town.

"That was..."

(Sara) "Really anti-climatic."

"You should uh...probably go back to the town and check up on Anakin."

INSIDE OF TOWN...

Anakin's face slowly floated back onto the child's body, making him trip over.

(Anakin) "AGH!"

(Obi-Wan) "So, how was it?"

(Anakin) "I was just put into a slime's body, how do you think I feel?!"

(Obi-Wan) "Same as usual, got it."

Obi-Wan turned to Sara, who now looked like a proper knight.

(Obi-Wan) "You have our thanks for helping us, Miss?"

(Sara) "Name's Sara."

(Anakin) "Thanks for helping me out there. What are you gonna do? We'd join you but our bodies would just get in the way."

(Sara) "I'm going to uh...Hey, what is the plan?"

"What do you think? You're the only hero in a fantasy land."

(Obi-Wan) "Is she alright?"

(Anakin) "Yeah, she started doing this earlier, no idea what's up with it."

(Sara) "Might as well go after the others, see what happens I guess. Anyways, I'll be back once I restored this town, until then!"

Sara held onto her sheathe and ran out of the town, those still faceless watching her leave.

(Gundham) "Please hurry. Sonia is...unsettling me."

(Plant) "Miss Valestein, you're our only hope...!"

(Anakin) "Think she'll be okay? That talking thing is really concerning me."

(Obi-Wan) "Probably...?"

[Chase Me - Faky]

(Sara) "Right so...do I just go forward?"

"Where did you see him fly off to?"

(Sara) "Was a lot more focused on trying NOT to get murdered by the slimes."

"It was just a slime, you've killed enemy mechs and demonic beasts like it was nothing!"

(Sara) "That's when I had my weapons and ARCUS unit!"

"..Still. Should've had no problem. I probably didn't even have to interfere."

(Sara) "Good goddess, am I going to be stuck with you? Actually WHO even are you?"

"The narrator! In a sense anyway."

(Sara) "What-"

And so begins the tale of Sara Valestein and her quest to defeat the Dark Lord Chris!

What friends will she encounter on the way?

How much of the meta can we break more than we have?

How many more jokes will the writer run into the ground as this series goes on?

FIND OUT NEXT TIME, ON HOUSE MIISEKAI!

(Sara) "...What?!"

STARRING:

And yours truly as the antagonist for this story!

Here's to some more god-awful written meme stories like this one, everyone!

#House Isekai #House Isekai ARR #House Miisekai

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mordoriscalling · 4 years ago

Text

Stay or Sail Away (1/6)

Here comes part one the modern AU fake dating Geraskier fic that I talked about in this post. I’d like to post each part daily. Tagging @geraskier-trashh as requested! :D

***

It’s not that Jaskier has any problem finding someone, thank you very much. It’s just that he’s busy. Busy with concerts and composing, meeting fans at various events, travelling, internet dramas involving Valdo (it’s always fucking Valdo). There’s no time for a relationship, only for occasional one night stands that sometimes that leave him heartbroken because he actually manages to fall in love with someone in the span of a few hours. It’s fine, though. Heartbreak inspires him like little else.

Jaskier's never complained about lack of bed partners, when he seeks them out. He’s charming, after all. Still, the moment he hears “commitment”, he flees. It’s just not his way. Or perhaps he’s never found anyone fascinating enough to commit to; it takes a lot to keep his attention. He wasn’t even looking for someone like that. Not until recently.

His troubles began a week ago, during a phone call with his mum. She reminded him of his father’s 65th birthday party and asked if he would bring anyone with him. This was followed by a series of questions about his love life because, as his mum put it, “you’re 35, Julian darling, and you’re always working so hard! I worry you’ll end up alone”. In order to placate her, Jaskier might’ve lied a little tiny bit about some things. As a result, because of all the twists and turns of the conversation, he made his mother believe he had a fiancé.

A fucking fiancé.

Wanda Pankratz was ecstatic, wishing to know everything about her son’s relationship, but he dodged all the further questions by saying that she would meet his love soon enough. She left it at that but, of course, told half the family about it, if the texts and calls from his sisters and aunts were anything to go by.

Hence, The Post.

It’s a bit pathetic and desperate, Jaskier can freely admit, but he has no other choice. His personal guard Zoltan almost pissed himself laughing when Jaskier asked him to pretend to be his fiancé, and not one of his friends knows anyone who would want to do this. Not even his agent Triss could help him out.

It all drove Jaskier to log on his anonymous Facebook account (he is a pretty big name in the UK; better be safe than sorry) and post in one of the big London groups.

“I need urgent help from someone who’d be willing to act as my fiancé during a family party on February the 24th. The only thing I expect is the ability to sing praises of our love and to compliment my aunts. It’ll take around 4 hours and then we end our relationship. Age from 35 to 40. It’d be great if you knew something about the sea because I intend to introduce you as a sailor who’s never home and afterwards, you die. Can anybody help?”

Since yesterday, the post has got more than a thousand reactions (mostly the laughing one and likes) and hundreds of comments. Many people tagged their friends as a joke, which is not helpful, but Jaskier still scrolls down and down, trying not to let his hope die. Nobody seems to think his request is for real and he’s received no serious offers so far. Then, one of the newest comment threads catches his attention.

Lambert Rivia: Geralt Rivia Destiny!

Geralt Rivia Fuck off

Yennefer Vengeberg Omg 😂 Cirilla Vengeberg-Rivia Eskel Rivia you must see this!

Cirilla Vengeberg-Rivia Yesssss!! This is perfect! ❤️

Eskel Rvia Do it Geralt

Geralt Rivia No.

Intrigued, Jaskier decides to check out these people’s profiles. Lambert Rivia is a handsome red-haired man who wears some kind of black military suit in his profile picture. Looking at his bio, Jaskier already knows why Lambert didn’t volunteer himself – he’s in a relationship. Eskel Rivia is blond, even more handsome than Lambert despite facial scars, and also has a photo in a black suit, together with a white cap on his head. There’s no information on Eskel’s relationship status and Jaskier is intrigued indeed. Yennefer Vengeberg is a terrifyingly beautiful woman who, judging how professional her profile picture appears, must work in some serious profession. Cirilla Vengerberg-Rivia is a lovely teenage girl with white-blond hair. Jaskier reckons she’s the daughter of Yennefer and one of the Rivia guys.

He left the poor Geralt’s profile as the last to look at, but now that Jaskier has seen the rest, he checks this one too.

His jaw fucking drops.

Geralt Rivia is a ridiculously handsome man. His face seems practically unreal because, surely, people as beautiful as Geralt don’t actually exist? The man’s long white hair (which makes no sense considering his apparent age), as well as his brown-almost-golden eyes, only add to his otherwordly, stunning appearance. Double stunning in that black military suit he’s wearing in his profile picture, just like Lambert and Eskel. The suit looks familiar and Jaskier has a nagging feeling he really should know what kind of army it is. Google helps him out and he quickly puts two to two – Geralt, Eskel and Lambert serve for the Royal Navy.

He bursts out laughing.

This is too good.

He wonders what he should to about this. Now that he knows about Geralt’s existence, he can’t really miss the chance of meeting him, however slim. His gut feeling tells him not to let the opportunity slip and well, who is Jaskier not to listen?

When he’s in the middle of debating what to write to the man, his phone pings. There’s a new messenger notification... with Geralt’s name. With a racing heart, Jaskier opens the message.

FEB THE 18TH AT 06:14 PM Hey. Everyone’s telling me to message you and won’t leave me alone. Is your request for real? Please say no

Jaskier chuckles and replies:

Hi! I’m sorry they’re bothering you and I’m also sorry to say that my request is very much for real. I’d be forever grateful if you helped me 😁

To this, Geralt responds with:

They really won’t stop until I agree They think it’s so fucking funny

Jaskier purses his lips, already suspecting this isn’t likely to work out. He'll have to face his loving mum and admit that he lied to her about fucking having a fiancé. She’s going to be so disappointed. At the very prospect, bad mood overtakes him, but he still types what he hopes to be a cheerful answer.

Damn, so sorry mate I won’t push you but, again, I’d totally owe you one if you agree ☺️

What would I get?

Jaskier tries to reason with his hope to calm the fuck down and replies:

Money, or a favour of some sort, I have many connections Could be free tickets to my concerts Even my company for the night 😏 Just whatever you want I really need help

Fuck

For a minute or two, the three dots next to Geralt’s photo disappear, and Jaskier’s hope plummets in a dramatic fashion. Then, more messages from Geralt show up in the chat.

Free tickets seem fine My daughter loves going to concerts She’d like free tickets but I never heard of you

Jaskier starts begging any god out there that Cirilla is Geralt’s daughter. Teenagers make up a large part of his audience (which is great, actually; teenage kids are amazing these days). If she’s a fan, the free tickets are a major bargaining chip.

Well, Julian AP isn’t my stage name I don’t use it on fb

What is it? Your stage name

I’d rather not say here And you must promise me you won’t tell anyone about it too Well, anyone but your daughter

Can you call me? It’s better to talk about this on the phone anyway

Fine.

Jaskier sends Geralt his number and waits for the call. In other circumstances, he’d congratulate himself on getting a man like that to call him so easily, but he’s too anxious. His hands itch for his guitar but he doesn’t get up from his bed. He begins smoothing his hair out with his palms, praying in his mind that Geralt hasn’t changed his mind.

After the agonizing wait of six minutes, there’s an incoming call. Jaskier takes a deep breath and picks up.

“Hello,” says a gravelly baritone voice so pleasant that it sends shivers down Jaskier’s spine.

“Uhm, h-hi, Geralt,” he replies a bit breathlessly, “so, my name’s Julian Alfred Pankratz but I’m known to many as Jaskier.”

There’s a beat of silence. “Jaskier?” Geralt repeats, “the one who sings Her Sweet Kiss?”

Jaskier beams, his chest swelling with pride. “The very same.”

“Fuck,” Geralt growls, “Ciri wants to blast this song whenever we drive somewhere.”

Jaskier laughs. “She would love free tickets to my concerts, wouldn’t she?”

“Yeah.”

Geralt says no more. Jaskier has to swallow down to sop his throat from constricting. “So?” he asks, “Can you do this for me?”

The silence on the other side is deafening and Jaskier doesn’t even breathe until Geralt finally speaks up. “Fine,” he grunts, his tone indicating it’s anything but fine.

Air leaves Jaskier’s lungs in a whoosh, replaced by a flood of such sheer relief that he may as well cry. “Thank you, thank you, thank you!” he babbles, heady with joy, “Gosh, you’re my saviour!”

“Just don’t tell anyone about this,” Geralt grumbles.

“Not a soul, Geralt, not a soul.”

“Send me the details about when and where and let’s get this over w–”

“No, wait!” Jaskier cuts in, “My family’s very perceptive, they’ll know it’s a ruse. We should plan everything carefully.”

“You’re making me regret this,” Gerlt growls.

“I’m sorry!” Jaskier hastens to say. “Just... at least tell me a bit about yourself?”

Geralt lets out an irritated sigh. “I’m forty, serve for the Royal Navy with my brothers. Eskel’s the nice one and Lambert’s the prick. My ex-wife Yennefer works for the government.” Jaskier actually shudders at this one because he already can picture it. Yennefer seems exactly powerful like that. “We have a daughter,” Geralt goes on, his tone softening, “Ciri. She’s fourteen. We live in London but I’m away often.”

“Oh, lovely,” Jaskier says with a wide smile because, really, this man’s love for his daughter is so clear and endearing, “this is something we can start with.”

“Just make everything up about our relationship and send it to me. I’ll play along.”

“Thank you,” he breathes out, still amazed at his luck. Jaskier is almost high on the success of his ingenious scheme and his obligations are therefore non-existent, so nothing stops him from teasing Geralt. “Though, to be completely honest," he says cheekily, "you don’t strike me as the type to sing praises of our love and compliment my aunts.”

“Hmm,” Geralt replies. It doesn’t sound like a negation. “Yen says I’m not that bad if I try.”

The fondness with which he said Yennefer’s name is a cold bucket of water poured on his enthusiasm. “O-oh, ok,” he stutters out, thrown off-track, “So, uhm, would you be willing to try for me?”

For a moment, Geralt says nothing, then answers, “If you give Ciri an autograph.”

Jaskier laughs out loud. “Not a problem at all! Whatever she wants.” He pauses. “Whatever you want,” he adds more seriously.

Geralt only hmms, in a way that Jaskier’s prone-to-romanticism mind would almost call warm. Silence falls between them but it doesn’t feel awkward somehow. “Have to go,” Geralt says.

“Okay,” Jaskier replies quietly, “Thank you again. I’ll text you, yeah?”

“Yeah.”

After Geralt hangs up, Jaskier huffs out a shaky breath. Deep down, he already knows.

This is going to mess him up.

TBC

Part 2

#myfic #geraskier #geralt x jaskier #the witcher #modern au #pretend relationship #fake dating #fanfic #let's call this... the Sailor and the Singer AU xD #the Sailor and the Singer AU

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mcatra · 5 years ago

Text

Catra works at Burger King pt 3

catradora in ther modern party clothes!

AO3

pt1/2

Catra was currently studying in the library, trying to work her way through a math problem.

Her place didn't have internet, so she usually alternated between the school wifi, the public library, and Burger King. Lonnie usually let her study in the break room when the libraries closed up.

Her phone pings with a message, obviously from Adora.

Catra picks up her phone and unlocks it, eyebrow raising when she sees the message.

Adora:

Wyd?

Catra sighs. Of course that airheaded jock texted like a frat boy. As much as she wanted to leave her on read, a deal was a deal.

Catra:

Studying.

Adora:

So diligent! You're so cool, Catra :)

Adora:

I'm weightlifting right now! Gotta work off all those BK calories 💪

Great, maybe she will leave her alone to go do her workout.

Adora:

[image.attachment]

Catra almost drops her phone when she sees the photo Adora sent. It was a shot of her by the mirror, and she was flexing with a dumbbell. She was wearing a black crop top, which framed her abs perfectly. What was she doing, getting flustered over what, a gym rat photo that looked like it belonged on a Tinder profile? After much gay panic and debate, Catra takes a photo of herself with her middle finger up to the camera. She taps ‘send’ angrily.

Catra:

[image.attachment] 🖕 She doesn't get a response for a few minutes, which was odd. Usually Adora typed back at the speed of lightning.

Ping.

Adora:

wow Ur rlly hot Catra looks at the text, slack jawed. What the hell?

Adora:

Oh my god I am so sorry. That was Glimmer, she took my phone.

Catra could almost scream, but she was in a public library. She settles for furiously chewing her out, sharp nails flying over the keyboard.

Catra:

Plz make Ur excuses more believable. It's so unoriginal I can't even post this on r/OopsDidntMeanTo.

Adora:

I really didn't mean to 🥺

Adora:

I mean

Adora:

Glimmer didn't mean to God, Adora was so stupid. Yet here Catra was, blushing like a fool. When she doesn’t answer for a while, her phone starts pinging again with notifications.

>Adora liked your photo

>Adora liked your status >Adora reacted to your comment >Adora liked your photo

It goes on for another 23 times and Catra scrolls through it, dumbfounded. Unblocking her was a mistake.

----

As promised, Adora would visit her garage when her shifts were over bringing groceries. In exchange Catra would cook, as it seemed like Adora would burn water if she tried.

It started off as a weekly thing, but in a true Adora-like fashion it ended up like this everyday. They would talk for hours, catching up on their lost years together.

Adora talked about all sorts of things, like how hard it was adjusting to the soft beds at first and how she requested a hard one. She told her about the contents of the letters she would send to Catra that never went received. Catra just listened, gratified to hear that Adora missed her in their time apart even half as much as she did.

They would sing the little songs they invented back when they were kids and make up whole new ones as they waited for the food. Adora even started learning how to cook after watching Catra, and she would barge in uninvited with new recipes. The food tasted better with company, and Adora took great pleasure in piling her seconds.

Catra would show her the local dumpster and they would go scavenging for items they needed. She taught her how to repair the things they found using Youtube tutorials, and how to disinfect them. It was fun watching Adora try to haggle for prices at the market, or her face when she realized she had to use the outhouse to go to the bathroom at Catra’s.

Days bleed into months, their easygoing friendship making Catra feel at peace for the first time in forever.

Right now they were currently in their trial exam period, which functioned both as practice for their final exams and half of their final marks. They were sitting in the library, chatting about their future majors.

Catra taps a pencil to her chin. ‘Let me guess, you want to do art. No, art history.’

‘Political science, actually! Did you know Eternia University has the number one ranked Political Science course in the entire country?' Adora says, flipping through the uni coursebook.

'Wao, future leader of the free world huh? That's kinda hot.' Catra teases, while Adora swats her in embarrassment.

'What about you?'

'Double degree of Law and Social Work.' Catra replies. 'Cliche I know. But I just want to be in a position where I can sue the shit out of Shadow Weaver. The system is corrupt, and there's thousands of kids being abused.'

'Wow, you're so cool Catra.' Adora says in awe. 'You're so smart, you'd definitely get in.'

'Damn right.' She scoffs, crossing her arms.

'You're gonna love Eternia. I went to their open day, the campus is gorgeous. Oh my gosh we could dorm together!'

'Gross, who'd want to be your roommate?'

'You would.'

'Ew, you're so full of yourself. Anyway get off me, I have work soon and I need to get changed.'

'Ah yes, the cute Burger King apron. I never get tired of it.'

They would always flirt back and forth like this, but nothing ever came out of it.

With her friendship came the feelings that she had repressed long ago, unknotting and resurfacing like they had never gone at all. However she had no idea if Adora even liked her in that way, given how affectionate she was with Bow and Glimmer. She was popular with boys and girls alike, but she never dated anyone. Catra never dared to ask.

Once Adora had fallen asleep in Catra's bed, and the brunette had woken up to the other girls arm around her and their feet tangled together. It reminded her of when they shared the bed as kids, but now they were grown up and this kind of thing didn't have an innocent meaning anymore. Having her there made her heart race and her palms sweaty.

She had wanted to kiss her then. She wanted to kiss her now. Catra wanted every single morning to end up like that.

Adora:

Your birthday is soon! Did you want anything?

You , Catra thinks, like a huge sap.

Catra:

My sanity back.

Adora:

Oh my gosh, we could throw you a party at my place! You’re turning 18 right? We could go out drinking! Angella has this amazing vintage wine collection and I could make cocktails!

Catra receives another wall of text, basically planning the entirety of this birthday party with Bow being the DJ and how Glimmer could make these buns that were to die for. Adora starts going through the entire party guest list until she has to cut in.

Catra:

lol calm down

Adora:

Does this mean Ur on board? 🎉

Catra:

yes fine since you won't shut up about it

Adora:

AAAAAAAH YOU'RE THE BEST!!!!!!! ♥️♥️♥️♥️ U WILL NOT REGRET THIS

DW I WILL PLAN EVERYTHING <3333

💗💖💖😻

The excessive amount of heart emojis make Catra grin dumbly into her palm.

She's glad they're not video chatting, or Adora would've already taken a screenshot.

---

It’s the day of her 18th birthday, and she’s nearing the end of her shift. The best friend squad were waiting for her at their usual table so they could give her a ride.

‘Hey Catra. Can I speak to you out back?’ Lonnie asks, gesturing outside.

What the heck, did she do something wrong? It’s been pretty peaceful as of late, and Catra tries to remember if she had done anything to Kyle recently. She nods, chucking her apron at the back as she tries not to notice Adora’s eyes following her.

Catra goes out to the back of the store, the night air nipping at her shoulders. Lonnie waits for her there, biting her lip.

‘What’s up? Don’t tell me you’re giving me a raise.’ Catra jokes.

Lonnie looks conflicted, and she takes a big breath.

‘I’m sorry but our store isn’t doing so well. I know you’re turning 18, and that means we can’t afford to keep you on anymore.’

‘What…?’

Catra felt numb, like she wasn’t really there in the back alley with Lonnie. It felt like an out of body experience. She could only stare at her, betrayed.

Like Lonnie could read her mind, she tries to correct herself. ‘It wasn’t my decision, it was Octavia’s.’

Of course it was. Her regional manager was the reason she could never just swipe food while she was working. Octavia never liked her, she always reviewed the security cameras and told her off for goofing around. She must’ve known the door incident was on Catra’s shift, and what really happened despite Adora’s cover up. This ‘layoff’ was just an excuse to get rid of her from a financial standpoint.

‘Thank you for all your hard work over these past 3 years. I know you’re going through a rough time, so we will of course give you a recommendation.’

Catra just nods.

She returns to her shift, robotically going through the motions. Catra doesn’t even say anything sassy when Adora asks for a burger with no patty and no onions and no sauce, only cheese on bread.

The lack of a clever comeback to their gag routine has Adora concerned. ‘Are you okay?’

Of course she wasn’t. How could she be? She was going to have to vacate her garage space, not like she had anywhere to put her furniture in. What the hell was she going to do?

‘I’m fine.’ She says, even though tears were threatening to burn a hole in the back of her eyelids. ‘Just...rough day.’

‘It’s your birthday! The party will cheer you up.’ Bow says brightly. ‘I have the sickest playlist of all time, you're gonna love it.'

'My mum isn’t home so we have free reign over the entire house! Come on girl, let's get you changed!' Glimmer crows, too excited about the party to pick up on Catra's mood. 'Makeover time!!'

The two of them force her into Glimmer's Mercedes, on their way to buy every alcohol imaginable from the bottle shop before they go to her house.

The last thing Catra wanted to do was play dress up or even go to her party, but Adora had planned for so long for this. It would definitely ruin the entire night if she refused to go.

Out of all the times they had hung out, she’s never been to Adora’s house. She leans her head against the window when they drive into the fancy part of town, by the lakeside with the multi-million dollar yachts parked in the water.

That still doesn't prepare Catra for when security lets them in through the black gates to the biggest mansion she’s ever seen. There were fountains, perfectly manicured lawns, a tennis court, and was that a helicopter pad?!

It was incredible, she had only seen this kind of luxury in the movies. So Glimmer was rich , rich. No wonder she was put out that Adora had her 18th birthday at Burger King.

Catra looks at Adora with a dumbfounded expression as the attendants let them in, and the blonde looks almost embarrassed when they have to get into an elevator to go to her room.

Glimmer picks out a hybrid of clothes from her and Adora's closets. The walk-in wardrobe is huge, like a department store full of designer clothes, shoes, jewellery and bags.

Her wardrobe alone is the size of Catra's home. The brunette suddenly understands why Adora cried upon seeing her concrete garage space. Looking at it, she wanted to cry too.

Glimmer sets her down on her huge poster bed as she brings out a checkered crop top, ripped black garter shorts and an expensive looking black leather jacket with a gold trim. While Catra reluctantly gets changed, Glimmer picks out a pair of black strappy heeled boots and a hair straightener to battle the bush on Catra’s head.

She sits still while Glimmer goes to work on her face, bringing out an entire Sephora’s worth of makeup. When Catra looks in the vanity mirror, she almost doesn’t recognize herself. Her eyes were framed with false eyelashes, a swooping cateye, smokey eyeshadow, sharp contour and her lips were now cherry red with bold lipstick. Glimmer applies the finishing touches with silver rings and clip on piercings.

She hears Adora inhale with shock from the staircase in her bedroom.

‘Catra you look incredible !’ She gasps. Adora was wearing this cute backless white dress tied with strings, short enough that it cropped above her knees. She was wearing sparkly wedges to go with it, and her hair was curled instead of her usual ponytail. Her delicate gold sword necklace frames her collarbones.

Catra’s throat goes dry. ‘Uh- You too.’

Glimmer smirks, satisfied with her work. She gets changed into her own outfit, a short purple tulle lace dress with a white fur trim and a cute Gucci clutch to accompany it. The pink haired girl spritzes them all with her various floral and sea spray scented perfumes before they head back downstairs.

‘Wow you guys look amazing!’ Scorpia marvels, and Adora’s friends voice their approval as well.

‘Gosh this place is crazy.’ Scorpia whispers to Catra. ‘Did you see their pool? We should’ve just held the swimming carnival here!’

Catra opens her mouth to tell her how Lonnie had let her go, but Sea Hawk’s booming voice interrupts them.

'I challenge you to the ultimate game of BEER PONG!' Sea Hawk announces, spinning the ball on his fingertips.

Of course this gets everyone's competitive spirit going, and everyone gets into pairs.

After a few drinks Catra has almost forgotten what she was worrying about earlier, too focused on the buzz. Her and Adora demolish the other teams by a landslide with their impeccable aim.

Soon the attendants came out with dinner, and it was lavish with every food you could imagine. Lobster, kobe beef, hor d'oeuvres, beluga caviar, kale, and opulent ice cream were all among the plates of food on the table. They bring out a massive 3 tiered truffle cake, the words 'Happy Birthday' written with an oddly crude drawing of Catra.

'You drew this?' She asks, and Adora nods happily. 'You worked so hard on mine, so.' Catra doesn’t have the heart to tell her that the cake was $7 and the drawing of her forehead was meant as an insult. They sing the birthday song for her, and this time no one brings up the cake cutting tradition.

After dinner they sit outside in the garden around the bonfire Sea Hawk had made. He was drunkenly singing a loud shanty while Bow piled in the wood, fanning the flames. Frosta sips on a mocktail, the only one there who wasn’t old enough to drink yet. The fire flickers and dances, casting shadows around them.

Catra downs a few more cocktails and jello shots as she waits for Mermista to light up some fireworks. Apparently it was illegal, but Mermista just waved her off, telling her that she’ll just pay the penalty fee as Catra’s birthday gift. Sea Hawk really did rub off on her.

When she successfully sets them off they light up the sky in dazzling multicoloured sparks. Adora’s friends whoop with glee, taking photos and videos to commemorate the moment.

Adora's side profile is lit up in the dark, and she looks impossibly beautiful among the backdrop of stars. Longing tears at her chest, Catra wants to hold her hand but her throat feels too tight and she can’t move. The truth was that she knew she had always had feelings for Adora, even back when they were just kids back in the foster home. But like a coward, she could never voice them for fear of Adora leaving her side.

A loud neighing can be heard from the stables in response to the loud booming noises from the fireworks.

'Swifty!' Adora says, standing up. The moment's breaks and Catra reels back her hand. 'Stay here, I'll be right back.'

Her chance disappears, she couldn’t say it after all. She watches her go tend to her horse, feeling stupid.

‘Yoohoo~, want a rematch?’ Sea Hawk calls out from the patio, pouring vodka into tiny glasses.

‘Don’t mind if I do.’ Catra replies. She definitely didn’t know her alcohol tolerance levels yet, so it was the perfect time to take that to the test.

Catra confidently does a whole line of shots, determined to drink herself into unconsciousness. Every time she sees a flash of Lonnie or Adora’s face in her mind, she takes another swig. Everyone is cheering her on, screaming the song ‘Shots’ over and over again, also all drunk out of their minds. Sea Hawk taps out at the 5th drink, and everyone screams at Catra’s flawless victory. Scorpia lifts her into the air to do a victory lap, cheering.

Adora finally makes an appearance, alerted by the sound of Catra's shrieky laughter as Scorpia swings her around.

‘Don’t worry, I can take it from here.’ Her school captain says pulling Catra away from her friend. Scorpia just shrugs and makes her way to the food table. ‘Catra, maybe you should slow down.’ Adora tells the giggling girl in her arms.

‘Noo way.’ She slurs, she was enjoying the feeling too much, the alcohol burning through her body, making her feel lightheaded. The light up disco dancefloor starts to blur into a kaleidoscope of colours.

‘You got some weed?’ Catra asks, seeing Perfuma light a bowl. The taller girl hands her an already rolled up one and Catra snatches it to take a long drag. The smoke hits her lungs and she starts coughing.

‘Oi Perfuma, why did you bring drugs? Angella will kill me!' Adora gripes, trying to wrestle the blunt away from Catra.

‘Aw don't be like that! I made some edibles for you guys to try.’ Perfuma says cheerfully, pointing to the pot brownies.

‘See? Scorpia likes them.’ She gestures at the other girl, who seemed to be currently tripping out of her mind and eating everything on the table.

Catra goes to reach for one, but Adora grabs her by the wrist to lead her back inside. 'Alright, you're done for the night. Everyone say bye!'

‘Byee Catra!’

‘Happy birthday!!’

Adora grabs her by the waist to lead her to her bedroom, Catra wobbling after her in the heels Glimmer lent her.

'Ugh Adoraaa, don't be such a party pooper. I'm fine.' She moans, leaning heavily on the other girl. 'Don't you have a shift tomorrow afternoon? I don't want you getting hungover or drug tested.' Adora chides, rummaging around the dark for the light switch.

Catra snorts. 'Oh you don't have to worry about that anymore. Got laid off.'

Adora looks at her in confusion, until realization dawns on her. 'Wait, is that why Lonnie took you outside?'

'Say, I never got to give you your birthday gift.' Catra pushes her hair back, voice sultry as she flings off her jacket. She never pinned herself down as a horny drunk, but here they were. Catra shoves Adora onto the bed, straddling her. Her golden hair spills over the mattress, soft like spun silk.

'You still want that kiss?' Catra whispers in Adora's now burning red ear. 'My knife touched the bottom.'

Adora's face now resembled a fire truck, mouth gaping in shock.

'C-Catra, I…'

Catra presses their lips together, silencing her. She knows she probably tastes like alcohol and weed right now, but she couldn't care less in the moment. Adora's mouth is still slack jawed from mortification, so she takes the opportunity for tongue. She frowns and moves down to her neck when Adora doesn’t return the kiss.

'Catra, what are you doing-'

Catra bites down on Adora's nape. The blonde underneath her lets out a soft gasp, arching her back. Her gold manicured nails dig into her shoulder.

'Stop, you're not thinking straight-!'

'Sure ain't.' Catra grins, licking a stripe down the base of her neck. Adora’s necklace chain jingles with the movement. There was now an impressive hickey there, blooming violet on her pale skin. She pauses to admire her handiwork.

'This isn't you talking, you'll, you'll regret this in the morning.' Adora stutters. She's shivering, their hands now laced together, silver rings clanking.

'I know. I don't care.' She replies, kissing her again. Adora's teeth nick her lip. The alcohol in her system makes her feel lightheaded, confident. No way would she have managed this sober. Adora tastes better than she does, sweet like blueberry soju. Catra's hands wander down further, pulling the strings to untie the back of her dress-

'Catra stop!' Adora suddenly shouts, striking Catra across the cheek in a deafening slap .

Adora's eyes were blazing, almost teary in the dark. Her breathing was irregular, panting in and out. Catra stills, clutching her cheek. The look in her eyes sobered her immediately.

Adora looks down at her palm, realizing what she just did. 'Sorry for hitting you!' She flounders. 'It's just that, you're only doing this because you’re drunk and upset, right?’

Catra just stares at her before climbing off. Cold realization settles as the fog in her brain clears. 'You're right. Forget it.'

She sits on the edge of the bed, numbly watching Adora hurriedly trying to re-tie the back of her now wrinkled dress. Her lips are stained with Catra’s red lipstick. Adora catches her looking, and she quickly turns away to smooth down her hair with her fingers. 'You've had more than enough to drink tonight. I’ll get you some water to clear your head.’

She gets up to turn on the light switch, and Catra blinks in the harsh light from the chandeliers. ‘Come on, let’s get you sobered up, okay?’ Adora leads her to the kitchen on the same floor, gingerly placing her friend on the slippery bar stool.

The blonde goes to get the chilled jug of infused water from the fridge and pours it into a glass. Adora slides it across the island, and Catra reluctantly takes it. She sips at it, mint and lemon on her tongue. It tasted way better than her hose water.

‘I’ll uh, pick out some groceries for you since we’re here and all.’ Adora says awkwardly into the silence, turning around to rummage through her pantry.

Suddenly Catra is brought back to the whole reason why she was sitting here in this oversized mansion in the first place. Their friendship agreement. The one she had just violated. Catra had never felt more stupid to mistake Adora’s kindness and guilt for actual feelings. She felt like a charity case, waiting to collect food from the soup kitchen.

Of course Adora didn't like her back. She just saw her as someone needing to be saved. The product of survival guilt. Catra wanted to whack her head on the corner of her marbled countertop and not wake up.

Adora takes out a green plastic bag, and starts filling it with everything and anything she can get. Cans, pasta, biscuits, fruits and vegetables. Actually this feeling was more like being one of those poor kids that white girls would pose next to for their Instagram after their trip to Africa. Did Adora have fun, volunteering to slum it up in her place while she returned here? All she ever wanted her entire life was to be Adora’s equal.

Scorpia and Sea Hawk's loud laughter and DJ music can be heard downstairs in the garden, beyond the tall golden trimmed windows. The class difference between them stretched like an unfathomable canyon. Living the classy bougie dream until the clock struck midnight and she was back in her run down garage. Except soon she won’t even have that anymore. Why did Adora have to bring her here? It was almost cruel.

Catra's suddenly overcome with the urge to vomit. She nearly falls off the high chair in her rush to throw up the unholy cocktail of alcohol into the sink. Tears bead in her eyes from the sour taste as she continues to vomit out everything she ate that night. She can feel Adora by her side, patting her back reassuringly.

It was by far the worst birthday she has ever had.

The morning of, Catra woke up in Adora’s bed with a splitting headache.

Unfortunately she was not given the gift of amnesia, as she vividly remembered every last excruciating detail about last night.

She spots Adora’s mop of blonde hair under a blanket on the floor, even though there were a billion other free spare rooms to sleep in. Adora was probably too afraid to share the same bed as her now.

Catra’s borrowed crop top digs uncomfortably into her skin, and she angrily flings it off her body. The shorts stick to her like a second skin, smelling of tequila. She grabs her old Burger King uniform and puts it on, though even this didn’t belong to her now.

Adora shifts in her sleep, and Catra lightly steps over her to get to the door. The last thing she wanted was for Adora to wake up.

As soon as she’s out, she runs out to the elevator and bangs frantically on the buttons until it sends her to the bottom floor. The lift opens with a ding and in her haste she almost crashes headfirst into Glimmer.

‘Oh hey! Are you going to work?’ Glimmer greets. She was in her silk pajamas and slippers, holding a glass of orange juice.

‘Uh. Yeah.’ Catra lies, trying her best to look natural.

‘Some party last night huh? Lucky today is a Saturday.’ Glimmer says conversationally, unaware of Catra’s urge to throw her across the room. ‘Hey, what happened to your cheek?’

Catra clutches her face, it still strung from where Adora struck her. ‘Nothing.’

Glimmer raises an eyebrow. ‘Well anyway, did you wanna stick around for breakfast? The cooks made pancakes, bacon, eggs, the whole deal.' She peeks behind Catra. 'Is Adora still not up yet?’

As much as Catra wanted to scream get out of my way she schools her expression to her best customer service smile. ‘Nope she’s still sleeping it off. Anyway I’m gonna be late so I can’t stick around.’

‘Did you need a lift?’ Glimmer asks. It dawns on the brunette she couldn’t exactly run the entire way back home. ‘I’ll ask one of the drivers to take you back so you make it to your shift.’

Catra thanks her lucky stars that Glimmer was still too hungover to drive her. She wouldn’t have been able to dodge her questions if she had.

‘Yes please.’ Catra says, giddy with relief. ‘Thank you.’

‘Ooh and before I forget, Adora told me last night to give you this.’ Glimmer says, grabbing the green bag of groceries off the counter. The shorter girl bundles it into Catra’s arms before she can object.

‘Get home safe.’ She says, waving as the attendant leads her out the door.

Catra looks down at the cans of food in her arms and doesn’t say anything.

------

The days leading up to graduation were painful, to say the least.

They more or less pretend the kiss didn't happen. Adora never brings it up, and neither does Catra.

She would stare at the ceiling, wishing she had never gotten piss drunk at her birthday and kissed her. Adora was right, she did regret it. It was awful, the look on Adora's face when she slapped Catra replays in her mind and nightmares over and over again. It was mortifying.

Adora still messages her every 3 days, and Catra still replies, though her words are empty and devoid of banter. I'm worried about you, she says. I'm fine , Catra always responds.

The brunette continues to humour her to keep the peace, only shutting down when her old job was mentioned. Catra doesn’t allow Adora back into her home again.

Sometimes they study together, but she can't concentrate when Adora wears her glasses. Her heart hurts, so she cradles her cheek and tries not to remember.

The hickey she had branded Adora's neck with had been covered with foundation until it faded away. None of her friends had teased her about it, so she clearly had not told a single soul what had happened.

Catra bites at the scab on her lip from where Adora’s teeth nicked her until it bleeds. She wants to apologize, but the words stick on her tongue and she can't bring herself to talk about that night.

Catra knew Adora was only here by her side to alleviate her guilt. Shame buries itself under her skin every time she's near her, like she was too embarrassed to even exist in the same space as Adora. She wants to disappear.

Exams are hard, and without an internet connection after the library closes at 6pm made it difficult to study. In her heart she knew she wasn't going to come out on top. Her ranking had slipped, she wasn't even at second place anymore. Rent was due at the end of the month, and without her Burger King wage she knew she'll be kicked out sooner than later.

Catra felt stressed and self destructive, and the only thing that kept her from falling off the edge completely was Scorpia. As much as she hated depending on others, she'd much rather her old coworker than Adora.

Her classmates seemed to like this new, muted down version of Catra who didn't argue and just stayed quiet most of the time. Fighting back was too difficult when all she wanted to do was blend into the wallpaper. All they talked about was where they were going for vacation after graduation, and Catra certainly had nothing to contribute to that conversation.

She felt like crying, all the time. It was agony, wanting to burst out into tears randomly while she sat wasting away in the student council room. Despite herself, she missed Burger King, and she just kept getting ghosted or rejected in her other job applications. Sometimes when she really wanted to indulge herself, she'd go cry silently in the school toilet stall.

Glimmer notices the change, and she catches her glaring. 'You don't seem as alive lately. Your eye bags are huge.'

'S'fine.' Catra replies, hiding her hands so she doesn't see how they shake. Honestly Catra couldn't remember the last time she slept.

'Pfft, don't lie to me. Adora's worried about you. You're getting skinnier, and your eyes are always raw. All you do is stare into space.'

Catra bites down on her nails. Of course she knew that. But she's gone through this before, and she'll do it again.

'What happened between you two?’

‘None of your business.’ Catra replies, shuffling her way to the hall.

Their graduation ceremony starts off uneventfully. Every student’s parents except Catra’s sit proudly in the audience, eager to watch their kid graduate. One by one they receive their certificate and return to their seats.

Adora and Catra stand side by side onstage, as Adora makes their final speech as School Captain. Through the blinding lights, she sees Angella waving proudly at her adoptive daughter in the crowd.

Catra looks at Adora in the corner of her eye. She must look pathetic, lovesick and pining after someone she couldn’t have.

‘It’s been such an honour serving the entire faculty and students of this school. I couldn’t have done it without my amazing Vice-Captain and all of my prefects. Now I’m proud to hand over my badge to the next School Captain, Frosta.’

They go through the rest of the ceremony like that, each member of the student council handing their badges to their successors.

Soon their Principal comes up to the podium, tapping it once and clearing her throat.

‘Announcing our honor student, and the winner of the scholarship to Eternia University…’ Castaspella says, turning over the sign card.

‘None other than our school captain, Adora!’

Everyone starts clapping, and Adora walks across the stage to shake Castaspella's hand.

Sounded about right. Catra never won against Adora in her entire life. She had already expected this outcome. Like a game of cat and mouse, going over and over for all eternity.

Adora would excel with her elite education and secure a well paying job. Catra would struggle at the bottom indefinitely, never amounting to anything. She never would, if Adora was still there next to her. When the blonde re-entered her life, everything she had been working towards for years just collapsed. Her job, her home, her School Captain status, her chance at the scholarship, her sanity.

She had to be wiped clean. A fresh start.

The flower petals were falling, the streets decorated with a vibrant pink. The other students mill out of the crowd with their parents, chatting excitedly about what was next in their futures. She waits for Adora underneath a tree.

'Congratulations.' Catra says, when she finally spots the other girl in the crowd. Adora pulls away from Angella’s embrace to meet her.

'You deserve this so much more than I do.' Adora says, her voice pained like she didn't just win a full ride to her dream university. 'You should take it.'

'It's in your name, silly.' Catra replies, lightly tapping her with her rolled up certificate.

'Besides, I knew you'd get into Eternia, so I never applied.'

Adora blinks dumbly. '...What? Aren’t we going to the same university?’

She always was a bit slow on the uptake. ‘Only you decided that, stuupid. Say, it's about time we ended this right?'

‘Catra, what are you...'

'Our deal. You don't need to feel guilty anymore or bring me anything.' Catra says, her voice sounding like it didn't belong to her. She rummages in her bag, bringing out Adora's spare varsity jacket that she hadn’t returned. 'Here, take this. Thank you for all the help.'

'What do you mean? You want to stop being friends?' Adora says in disbelief, taking the jacket.

Catra nods. ‘I can’t continue with the arrangement. I hope you understand.’

‘I don’t! Was I the only one who thought we were friends, real ones?’ Adora asks.

‘...That’s right. I never saw you as a friend. You were just a meal ticket to me. Are you happy now?’ Catra snaps back. Shit, that wasn’t what she meant to say. She had planned to end this quickly and painlessly, on a high note. Trust Adora to put up a fight.

Something seems to click in Adora’s brain. ‘Is this about the night of the party?’

‘Figure that out yourself.’ Catra replies, turning to walk away.

Adora grabs onto her arm. ‘Wait! If- if that’s what you want, I’ll give it! Just don't go!'

This dumb blonde really was offering up her body, out of what? A sense of duty? How stupid.

‘Is that right?’ Catra says, walking closer to her. Adora backs up until she is pinned to the tree. They’re face to face now.

‘Can you really do this?’ Catra lifts Adora’s chin by a finger.

Finally it seems to dawn on Adora exactly what Catra wanted. She swallows, biting her lip.

There’s a flicker of hesitation, before Adora’s eyes squeeze shut defiantly. The blonde is shaking like a leaf, her breath coming out in panicked stutters from her pursed lips.

Catra just stares at Adora’s scrunched up face impassively. Her scared reaction was the only confirmation she needed for closure.

She flicks the other girl’s forehead, and her big blue eyes open in confusion. ‘Chill out, I’m not that evil to do it to someone so unwilling.’

Adora blinks, clutching her forehead. ‘Catra?’

Suddenly Angella’s voice cuts through their conversation from the car park. ‘Adora dear, are you done chatting with your friend? We have reservations!'

‘Um, I…’ Her old school captain opens her mouth to say something, but Angella's started to lose her patience. 'Adora, how long are you going to stand there? Glimmer is already waiting for us at the restaurant!'

Catra just smiles tiredly. ‘Take care, dummy.’

She watches Adora being dragged off unwillingly by her adoptive mother to the car.

Catra lets out a sigh. Her phone pings with a message from Scorpia, and she knows it's time to go.

---

By the time Angella releases her from their graduation celebration, Adora can feel that it's already too late.

Adora:

Please, can we talk? Let me fix this

A pop up appears over the screen.

Message Not Sent

This person isn't receiving messages at this time.

Adora sends another message, but they all go undelivered. Catra had blocked her again. Panic spikes through her veins, and she quickly dons on a jacket and grabs her car keys.

She sneaks out that night, down the familiar winding path through the bush that led to Catra's place.

'Catra?' She rolls up the garage door, blinking in the darkness. When her eyes adjusted, she found Catra's old home completely emptied.

All the furniture and items her friend had collected over the years, they were all gone. The little stove where they cooked, the old mattress where they talked late into the night, all vanished like they were never there.

A single green plastic bag remained on the floor untouched, filled to the brim of food.

catra working at BK fanart:

https://twitter.com/huetrooper/status/1265188930741080064

https://twitter.com/quackelroys/status/1271199987540668416?s=20

https://mcatra.tumblr.com/post/620493235561824256/your-catra-works-at-burger-king-fic-is-great-you

pt1, pt 2

Catra was currently studying in the library, trying to work her way through a math problem.

Her place didn't have internet, so she usually alternated between the school wifi, the public library, and Burger King. Lonnie usually let her study in the break room when the libraries closed up.

Her phone pings with a message, obviously from Adora.

Catra picks up her phone and unlocks it, eyebrow raising when she sees the message.

Adora:

Wyd?

Catra sighs. Of course that airheaded jock texted like a frat boy. As much as she wanted to leave her on read, a deal was a deal.

Catra:

Studying.

Adora:

So diligent! You're so cool, Catra :)

Adora:

I'm weightlifting right now! Gotta work off all those BK calories 💪

Great, maybe she will leave her alone to go do her workout.

Adora:

[image.attachment]

What was she doing, getting flustered over what, a gym rat photo that looked like it belonged on a Tinder profile?

After much gay panic and debate, Catra takes a photo of herself with her middle finger up to the camera. She taps ‘send’ angrily.

Catra:

[image.attachment] 🖕

She doesn't get a response for a few minutes, which was odd. Usually Adora typed back at the speed of lightning.

Ping.

Adora:

wow Ur rlly hot

Catra looks at the text, slack jawed. What the hell?

Adora:

Oh my god I am so sorry. That was Glimmer, she took my phone.

Catra could almost scream, but she was in a public library. She settles for furiously chewing her out, sharp nails flying over the keyboard.

Catra:

Plz make Ur excuses more believable. It's so unoriginal I can't even post this on r/OopsDidntMeanTo.

Adora:

I really didn't mean to 🥺

Adora:

I mean

Adora:

Glimmer didn't mean to

God, Adora was so stupid. Yet here Catra was, blushing like a fool. When she doesn’t answer for a while, her phone starts pinging again with notifications.

>Adora liked your photo

>Adora liked your status >Adora reacted to your comment >Adora liked your photo

It goes on for another 23 times and Catra scrolls through it, dumbfounded. Unblocking her was a mistake.

----

As promised, Adora would visit her garage when her shifts were over bringing groceries. In exchange Catra would cook, as it seemed like Adora would burn water if she tried.

It started off as a weekly thing, but in a true Adora-like fashion it ended up like this everyday. They would talk for hours, catching up on their lost years together.

Days bleed into months, their easygoing friendship making Catra feel at peace for the first time in forever.

Catra taps a pencil to her chin. ‘Let me guess, you want to do art. No, art history.’

‘Political science, actually! Did you know Eternia University has the number one ranked Political Science course in the entire country?' Adora says, flipping through the uni coursebook.

'Wao, future leader of the free world huh? That's kinda hot.' Catra teases, while Adora swats her in embarrassment.

'What about you?'

'Wow, you're so cool Catra.' Adora says in awe. 'You're so smart, you'd definitely get in.'

'Damn right.' She scoffs, crossing her arms.

'You're gonna love Eternia. I went to their open day, the campus is gorgeous. Oh my gosh we could dorm together!'

'Gross, who'd want to be your roommate?'

'You would.'

'Ew, you're so full of yourself. Anyway get off me, I have work soon and I need to get changed.'

'Ah yes, the cute Burger King apron. I never get tired of it.'

They would always flirt back and forth like this, but nothing ever came out of it.

She had wanted to kiss her then. She wanted to kiss her now. Catra wanted every single morning to end up like that.

Adora:

Your birthday is soon! Did you want anything?

You, Catra thinks, like a huge sap.

Catra:

My sanity back.

Adora:

Oh my gosh, we could throw you a party at my place! You’re turning 18 right? We could go out drinking! Angella has this amazing vintage wine collection and I could make cocktails!

Catra:

lol calm down

Adora:

Does this mean Ur on board? 🎉

Catra:

yes fine since you won't shut up about it

Adora:

AAAAAAAH YOU'RE THE BEST!!!!!!! ♥️♥️♥️♥️ U WILL NOT REGRET THIS

DW I WILL PLAN EVERYTHING <3333

💗💖💖😻

The excessive amount of heart emojis make Catra grin dumbly into her palm.

She's glad they're not video chatting, or Adora would've already taken a screenshot.

---

It’s the day of her 18th birthday, and she’s nearing the end of her shift. The best friend squad were waiting for her at their usual table so they could give her a ride.

‘Hey Catra. Can I speak to you out back?’ Lonnie asks, gesturing outside.

Catra goes out to the back of the store, the night air nipping at her shoulders. Lonnie waits for her there, biting her lip.

‘What’s up? Don’t tell me you’re giving me a raise.’ Catra jokes.

Lonnie looks conflicted, and she takes a big breath.

‘I’m sorry but our store isn’t doing so well. I know you’re turning 18, and that means we can’t afford to keep you on anymore.’

‘What…’