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shurisneakers · 4 years ago

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harmless (xiii)

Summary: Bucky volunteers to go stop a small time villain, but nothing can prepare him for what exactly he has to deal with. (Bucky x villain!reader)

Warnings: cursing, frustrated bucky, dramatic reader, smidge of angst, guns, little bit of violence, obnoxious flirting, and kidnapping lol

Word count: 6.2k

A/N: welcome to chaos week >:) this is the first of three updates coming out this week (if i can finish the last one in time). big thank you to my love @no-shit-sherl0ck for the kidnaped!reader idea, and that one anon who suggested the inator that’s used here. i know you wanted to see it in a zoo but i couldn’t really figure out a way to use that so i referenced it a bunch in previous chapters. oh and also @ginevranights for this specific imagery

Previous Part || Series Masterlist

Who the fuck kidnaps a villain in this day and age?

Saturday started normally enough.

Nat kicked Bucky’s ass in training, evening the score to 120 and 120. He blames it on the lack of sleep. She tells him that it’s his fault he stayed up late to binge watch 911 Lone Star.

He still thinks it was worth it.

The team’s sunshines and rainbows that morning. Someone had cooked up a batch of pancakes and fresh orange juice. Someone else burnt the bacon but left to feed his dog before anyone could complain.

Nat opened up the newspaper. Different sections went to different people until Bucky got stuck with the entertainment section. Fun, considering that he doesn’t even recognise half the names. He’d have to pretend to be interested until the next rotation.

He watches the orange juice levitate in front of him from the corner of his eye and just assumes that Wanda’s getting a refill even though she could have just asked him to pass it. He smells the next batch of bacon burning and figures that Clint is back.

Sam’s beside him, annoying him about how long it takes for him to read about which new celebrity relationship just ended and Bucky retaliates by reading even slower. Fuck you.

He’s on his second stack of pancakes absolutely drenched in maple syrup when the doors to the elevator open and Marie steps out, laptop in her hand.

An instant chorus of hello’s and invitations to have some charred bacon resound through the table. She politely declines them with a small smile, instead opening her laptop and placing it in front of Bucky without further ado.

He looks at her questioningly, slowly swallowing whatever was in his mouth.

“An email for you.” She tuts her head towards it. “It has a video attachment of your friend.”

Bucky has plans to not watch the video in front of everyone, given that the content could range anywhere from you reading out fanfiction about him to a deep-fake of him singing a Whitney Houston song.

Both of which you have done before and would do again, without any hesitation.

“Aren’t you gonna watch it?” Wanda asks from across the table.

He slowly shakes his head no, cutting his stack into smaller pieces.

“If what’s in it is real, it’s important,” Marie stresses.

“What’s in it?” he inquires instead, hoping that the team would stop staring at him. If Marie was implying strongly that he needed to watch then something was wrong.

“Just watch it, man.” Sam’s statement has everyone agreeing with him. Bucky can’t refuse now, and if the team makes fun of him for the next month about how he looks good belting Greatest Love of All, he’s going to personally assassinate you.

He clicks on the email, noticing it came from a throwaway address. Probably untraceable, if the cards are played right.

The video opens to grainy footage, which is stupid considering modern technological advancements. If this is one more of your stupid LARPing sessions, it could definitely wait till after lunch.

But, he instantly recognises your silhouette strapped to a chair and suddenly the room feels very cold around him. His hand automatically clutches onto a bead from the bracelet you gave him that still remained tied to his left arm more often than not.

“Speak,” someone commands off camera.

“About what?” You sound annoyed, exasperated even.

“Why you’re here.”

“I’m here because you have unaddressed feelings of childhood insecurity.”

“I warned you to take this seriously.”

Bucky’s eyes widen slightly but his body relaxes the minute he reads the situation.

The team’s crowded around him, he can feel it. His attention remains on the screen in front of him.

“Who even are you sending this to?” You don’t sound the least bit threatened. “My roommate’s not at home but my cat is and I don’t think she’d care.”

”You’ve made a complete joke out of villains everywhere. Fraternising with the enemies, the Avengers,” he spits the name with so much vitriol. “You’ve erased what it’s like to be truly evil. Turned us into a laughing stock.”

“If it takes one person to undermine your whole movement then maybe it wasn’t strong enough to begin with.” You look at someone outside the lens, face scrunching in distaste. “Also your costume’s ugly.”

“F.R.I.D.A.Y., can you trace this voice?” Bucky asks, receiving an immediate confirmation. “Figure out who it is.”

“On it.”

“Tell them. Tell them we are a serious threat and are to be feared.”

"No,” you say resolutely. “You’re an overgrown manchild. Go watch Teletubbies or something.”

“She does not give a shit,” Clint marvels at the situation, a piece of half eaten burnt toast between his fingers.

You didn’t. And if he knew you in the slightest, which he prided himself on at this point, you already had six different ways of getting out of there.

“She knows she’s going to be fine,” Bucky murmurs, returning back to take a bite of his pancakes. “She’s probably still there just to irritate him.”

He zeroes in on your wrist to see if the teleportation watch was still there but no, your wrists are bare. Guess you forgot.

“You have to.”

“Why?”

“Because that’s how a real villain does it.”

“A real villain- what are you, gatekeeping the villain community?” You scoff. “You sound like a fuckin’ incel.”

“Just send them a message,” the guy bellows, hitting a table.

“She’s going to frustrate them to death.” An accurate observation, Sam.

“Okay, jeez, fine.”

Bucky just knows that you rolled your eyes at that moment.

He had faith in you, or in your abilities at the very least. While every wisecrack could possibly inch you closer towards harm, you probably wouldn’t be making them unless you felt completely secure in your situation.

“Help, I’m totally kidnapped and in danger. Save me because I can’t do it myself. This man is too powerful and strong and sooo scary.”

“Do you think she has a strategy?”

“Definitely.”

“You’re not worried, James?” Wanda asks curiously. “I thought she was your friend.”

“She is my friend.” He reaches over to take the jug of orange from across the table. “That’s why I’m not worried.”

“Are you going to fight the Avengers?” you interrupt his endless tirade. “Because that’s a stupid plan. You get how that’s a stupid plan, right?”

“Let them come. I’m prepared.”

“With what? A stick you found outside? A Nerf gun? Man, you’ve tied my hands with fuckin’ zip ties, you can’t be serious-”

“Shut up,” he roared and the stand shakes slightly from where he stamps his feet. “Our army is enough.”

“Wow,” you exhale. “I wish I had your confidence, I really do. I want to study you under a microscope.”

“I have reinforcements.” It sounds like he turns to the camera to address it directly. “This is a warning. Your friends have an hour to find you or things are gonna turn ugly. This is what real evil looks like.”

“Evil dresses in a dollar store Speedo, apparently.” The man pays you no heed, instead picking up the camera. “Hey, sarge, if you’re watching this, don’t bother. I’m fine, it’s not even the real me-”

The camera cuts to black.

“When was this video sent?” Nat looks at Marie, eyebrows drawn together.

“About ten minutes ago.”

Bucky clicks out of the email, determined to get at least half his breakfast in him before he left to see what’s up with your situation. A notification pops up immediately.

[email protected] just sent you an email.

A video attachment.

“We got another one,” Bucky informs the team, drawing their attention back to the screen from the informal conversation that had erupted between them about what they could do.

This time, there’s a subject line included.

Attack on the Clone.

"Ain’t that a Star Wars movie?" he asks, craning his neck to look at Clint.

"That's Attack of the Clones," Sam corrects. "Probably autocorrect."

Bucky narrowed his eyes in suspicion at him, jaw sliding outward before falling back into place. Enough times had Sam called him Fucky in the group chat and gotten away with it for him not to be wary.

“Or a code,” Wanda suggests, too many crime thrillers read and podcasts listened in her spare time. She occasionally brought them over to Self Care Saturday, introducing him to the world of true crime as a bit of light content while they snacked on chocolate chip cookies he baked. “Like the Zodiac.”

“For what?” Bucky peers over at her.

“All I remember from that movie is them rolling around a field together,” Clint mutters. “Maybe that’s how you’re supposed to save her.”

“I’m not saving anyone. Look at her, she’s fine.” Is he the only one who saw it?

When he’s met with skeptical looks and no other useful suggestions, he presses play on the video.

This time it's clearer footage. It hardly takes him a second to ascertain where it was.

"That's her lair." It showed the pathway leading up to the flat concrete building, exactly where the intercom should be.

There was a black Sedan parked haphazardly outside, engine still on judging by the sound of the radio blasting an AC/DC song.

Within a few seconds, someone drags you from the entrance of the lair to the car, despite your very clear protests and opposition, shoving you inside before it takes off in full speed, tires screeching.

"F.R.I.D.A.Y., track the car from that video. Check all the CCTV and surveillance footage from around the area that you can find," Bucky commands, taking a sip of orange juice.

"Why would they send us that?" Clint pipes up. "They make their email untraceable but send us a video of the fuckin' abduction itself?"

"I don't know." Bucky shakes his head, setting his glass down. "She probably convinced them to."

It was an unusual scenario, he realised that. But his eyebrows lower in contemplation, his lip caged between his lip before a thought suddenly occurs to him. A laugh in disbelief almost escapes his throat ad he pushes it down with some freshly cut strawberries.

"And they listened?"

"I don't think you realise how annoying she can be." He knows, though. He knows. "Bet they regret it, though. I should tell them to keep her for a little longer."

"Voice recognition registers voice to someone named Chad, better known by his alias Soul Crusher. Surveillance footage places the car about thirty minutes away. Exact location sent to your phone GPS."

Soul Crusher. That was worse than Dr. Strange.

"I can make that fifteen." Bucky shrugs, setting down his fork and knife. If his hunch is right, the team didn’t really have to get involved. “See you guys later.”

“Do you want any of us coming with you?” Wanda gestures to the crowd at hand.

“I got it.” He pushes away from the table, depositing his plate in the sink, dropping an extra piece of bacon on the ground for Clint’s dog. “She’ll be alright.”

They watch him trail out of the room briskly, heading up to his room to change.

“Is it just me or is he too casual about this?” Clint continues staring long after he leaves.

“Both of them are weirdos.” Nat pulls open the newspaper again, going back to the sport’s section. “Who knows what goes in their heads.”

“Can confirm that not a lot goes on in his.”

Without Bucky to retaliate or grumble, a Steve walking into the room, sweaty and shiny after training becomes the new subject of jokes that morning.

For the first time in months, he’s had to bring a weapon or two along with him. Two revolvers and a couple of knives kept out of plain view. He wouldn’t need more than that anyway.

True to his word, it takes only fifteen minutes to get there, thirteen if he didn’t stop for the chain of ducks that crossed the street.

He’s also dressed in a little more leather than he usually reserves for your meetings. A jacket that brings to act as a windbreaker and tightly laced up combat boots make him look like he either stepped off a runway, or more menacing than usual depending on who was looking.

The GPS points him to an old warehouse near a more subdued part of the city. It was abandoned by the looks of it, and had been for a while judging by the lack of upkeep. Prime real estate.

He pulls off his helmet, hanging it on the handlebar along with his backpack before kicking the stand into place. The bike’s a few metres away just in case they decide to blow something up.

Bucky looks up at the warehouse, assessing the most damage he could do to it if at all it was needed. That thing could barely stand on its own, a grenade would absolutely decimate it. That wasn’t good news for you.

He sighs once before putting on his death glare, straightening out his shoulders into a stature that screams stone-cold, and pushes the door open, gun raised.

A mini-army of people ranging from their early twenties to late thirties stood guard at the entrance, all with rifles pointed at him. He counts fifteen, maybe eighteen.

“Oh, hell no,” a voice erupts from the back, followed by the sound of his gun being thrown to the ground. “No one told me that he was coming.”

Bucky raises an eyebrow, his death glare not shifting and Glock not lowering.

“I’m out.” The same guy raises his hands up to show he meant no harm, slowly brushing past Bucky as he squeezed out of the building.

“You got five seconds to leave before I shut this door,” Bucky gives the rest of them an ultimatum. Not like there was a point anyway. SHIELD was sending down some people to account for the one day rise in new morons.

They all looked at each other, swallowing thickly before raising their weapons.

“I hope he’s giving you good insurance.” The second he finishes his sentence they all cry out in what sounds like a fucking war chant, launching themselves at him.

______

“They’re here.” Someone presses his ear to the door as if the gunshots and screaming weren’t enough.

“Brilliant. We’re ready.” Chad picks up the knife, running his finger along the sharp end. You try to see if you can use your Twitter-ordained powers of manifestation for a paper cut.

“How much are you asking them for?” You put forth a query instead, when it disappointingly doesn’t work.

“Asking who for what?” Chad stops his dumb intimidation tactic for a second.

“You know,” you insist like it was obvious, “my ransom. How much did you ask them to pay?”

“We didn’t-” He looks around at the other people in the room for confirmation. “-we didn’t ask for any.”

“Because I’m invaluable?” Your head droops to the side in mock flattery. “Aw, you guys.”

“We didn’t think of it,” someone from the corner behind you speaks up, coming to the aid of their boss.

“Now that’s just rude.” You tut, shifting maybe an inch or two in your bounds to try and get more comfortable. “Leaving aside your lack of preparation, let’s just assume he bursts in here, desperate and ready to bargain. How much would you ask for?”

“Three million,” Chad says confidently, gathering a nod and sounds of agreement from everyone else.

“Are you serious?” Your jaw drops, a scoff escaping you. “That’s all?”

His self-assurance falters a little bit, you can see it under his 5 Minutes Craft mask.

“Three mill-” You stop mid-sentence. “With this wiring? Ridiculous. Make it ten, I demand it.”

“We’ll ask for fifteen mil,” Chad proposes, his teammates agreeing again, a little more delighted than last time.

“Ask for thirty, you coward,” you argued. “Thirty million and a jet.”

“You’re not worth that much.” The dipshit diagonal to you pipes up with his unwanted and, frankly, useless opinion.

“And you are?” You whip around the best you can. “Henchman number four?”

“Megedagik,” he informs, standing up a little taller now that he was given some importance. “It means ‘killer of many’.”

“Did you just say your name was Mega Dick?”

“Megedagik,” he corrects.

You stare at him hard before turning away. “Alright, other than Mega Dick here, does anyo-”

A knife lands right next to your feet, driven at least an inch into the ground. You look up at the guy you managed to piss off within four sentences, his face now a beet red.

“These are brand new, asshole,” you barked, shaking your shoes around. “You’re gonna pay if there’s even a scratch on it.”

“Permission to kill her?” Meg growls, casting a side eye at Chad.

The boss man looks at you thoughtfully, assessing the repercussions of what might happen. You raise an eyebrow.

“Slow and painful,” he settles.

A small smirk makes its way onto your face.

“Title of your sex tape,” you quip as the man in the corner storms towards you.

_____

It’s all a flurry, really. A bunch of inexperienced newcomers versus one of the most skilled assassins the world had ever seen? Ten minutes tops.

Bucky doesn’t do any serious damage. A couple of broken bones but only out of necessity, a lot of concussions, and maybe a bullet wound, or three, here and there.

Most of the time he spends thinking about things that have absolutely nothing to do with what was going on. He forgot to take his laundry out of the machine. There was a biscotti recipe he had been procrastinating on trying. His succulents needed watering but he could do that once he was back. Was he wearing his good combat pants or was it the pair that had a hole in the pocket?

His left hand thrust outwards to shove someone away while he stuck his right hand into his pocket to check if it had frayed away. The person he pushed slams into a wall with a loud groan and no, his pants didn’t have a hole in them.

He stops to take a breather, assess what was going on. There are bodies scattered all around, mostly writhing in pain from minor injuries. Someone very bravely stands up, hands posed in front of him in a regular fighting stance.

“You sure about this?” Bucky asks, reaching for one of the concealed knives he hadn’t had a chance of using yet. It twirls rather nimbly between his fingers for something so dangerous, the hilt finally landing in his palm for a sturdy grip.

The man takes one look at the knife before sitting right back down on the ground.

“Good choice,” his voice drops to an octave lower than his self-esteem. He’s tired of this old routine but it works like a neat little party trick, often getting him the result he wanted. “Where?”

A few fingers point down the hall to the only room whose door was closed.

He makes sure to step over everyone who was lying along the way, ears tuned in to even the smallest of noises just in case one of them decided to attack him from the back. It doesn’t come.

He doesn’t bother creeping down the hallway. With all the ruckus that just went on outside, he’s pretty sure it’s obvious that they had an intruder.

Bucky kicks in the large steel door with ease, given that it was barely hanging on its hinges. His gun’s raised, muscles tight, and senses on high alert for any immediate threats.

It lands with a large thud, reverberating through the room. He’s reminded of your first meeting with him.

There’s a chair in the middle of the room with a person tied to it by a mixture of rope and tape. Others found themselves slithering around on the floor in a similar fashion, trying to get out of their bondages.

“Hey, James,” you call out, drawing his attention to you. You were sitting atop a table, legs swinging back and forth without a care in the world, a blade in your hand.

“You okay?” He tucks the gun into his waistband when he realises that none of the henchmen are going to be going anywhere soon.

“All good.” You hop off the table with a little spring in your step. “Did you bring your bike? I need a ride back to the lair. I think I left the TV on when I was, you know, getting kidnapped.”

“You coulda teleported back home before all of this even happened.” Bucky does a quick assessment of your body to make sure there weren’t any bruises or anything of the sort. “Avoided the whole thing.”

“Don’t have the watch with me.” Odd, since he knows you consider it one of your essentials but it just fuels his theory further. “Besides, if I just quit before we started, they’d keep messing with me over and over again.”

“Do you want me to punch someone’s face in?” He glances around the room at the ones wiggling about on the floor like fucking worms. “I’d be happy to.”

“Nah, I got a few in myself.” You rotate your wrist, other hand still holding onto the knife. “You know what, maybe I’ll have another go.”

He simply makes a noise in acknowledgement before he places a hand on the hem of your shirt, gently reeling you back. “I think you fixed ‘em up real good. That’s enough for today.”

“Fine but only ‘cause you said so.” You huff, looking past him and at the weirdos on the ground. “You hear that? This man just saved your life. Say ‘thank you’.”

A muffled chorus of what sounded like appreciation echoed through the room. Bucky awkwardly looks around.

“Damn right.” You walk over to the guy in charge of the whole event, bending down to his level. “If you ever try to fuck with us again...”

You stare straight into his eyes, unblinking. You hold up the knife to his Adam’s apple. Chad doesn’t dare to move other than the thick swallow.

You raise your finger and flick him in the forehead. “Get a better costume.”

The corner of Bucky’s lip quirks upward.

“Let’s go, sarge,” you announce, standing upright again and making a motion to follow you. “D’you have an extra helmet I could use?”

“Yeah.” He had brought one along in his bag, assuming that you’d need one once he noticed the watch was missing in the footage.

“Yay.”

The only storage space on his bike was under his seat and it’s just enough for an extra revolver. Clint asked him if it was his way of flirting with someone, give ‘em a quick spin around the city and then show them his gun. If looks could kill, Clint would be 7 feet under.

“You sure you wanna ride it, though?” He cringes immediately when he realises what it sounds like, waiting for you to smack the innuendo in his face. “We could wait for SHIELD.”

“Don’t really have another choice, Bucky,” you say absentmindedly, strolling out the room as you tossed the knife behind you.

He frowns at your indifference but turns around for a second to look at Chad. The man in question looks back viciously, his grandeur from that morning basically deflated and left to die along with his reputation.

“Might wanna reconsider the name,” Bucky remarks, doing a quick sweep of the area once more. “Soul Crusher.”

He waits until both of you are outside the cell and the door is shut on the ringleader and his circus clowns, handlebar twisted out of place so that they don’t escape for the time being.

“One second,” he calls, touch gently lingering on your forearm to stop you without even thinking twice about it. A famously uncharacteristic move for him.

"Hm?” You don’t even look like you notice his action.

“You sure you’re good?” he asks seriously, actual concern slipping through the question. “Do you need medical assistance?”

“They couldn’t hurt me anyway.” There’s something strange about the way you say it, almost assuredly. “I’m good.”

“Okay,” he concedes, his hand darting back when he realises it was still on your arm. His eyebrows furrow when he realises how instinctively he had reached out in the first place. He didn’t touch anyone, ever.

“What are we gonna do about them?” you inquire, stepping over someone on the floor to get to the exit.

“Marie told Agent Hill. They’re sending someone over.”

“They’re sending SHIELD for these wannabes?” Someone groans in protest from somewhere and you elect to ignore them. “Ew.”

“Just to make sure confidential information isn’t compromised in any way.” There’s a large bang that comes from the room they just left. Maybe one of them shot their teammate by accident. They were more than capable of doing it.

“I would never,” you exacted a little more solemnly, pushing the door open with your elbow to let the sunlight flood in.

“I know.” He doesn’t realise how dark it was in the warehouse until he steps out into the noon sun. “I’m pretty sure this is more about the fact that you were abducted.”

“For me?” The smile doesn’t quite reach your eyes the way he kinda likes. Something definitely felt off. “I love being class favourite.”

He doesn’t reply, a small grunt as he twists the handle of the warehouse door upwards, effectively jamming it.

“Can I drive?” You bat your eyelashes at him innocently, disregarding the loud screaming that came from inside as those less injured probably regrouped for a last ditch attempt.

“No,” he doesn’t hesitate in replying, handing you a helmet and buckling his own securely.

“But I just got kidnapped,” you complained, watching him swing a leg over the bike and straddle it. Okay then.

“All the more reason for you not to drive right now.” He mentions for you to get on, squinting at the warehouse a few feet away.

“Fine, but next time I’m driving,” you grumble, climbing on the back.

“Do you even know how to?” His head is tilted to look at you from the corner of his eye, voice heavier on account of the obstruction on his face.

The door starts shaking violently and he knows for a fact that it won’t hold up for much longer. Some of those who he had knocked out probably had been shaken awake again for manpower.

“I can learn.” You take a pause, mischief seeping into your next words. “You can teach me.”

“No.” He didn’t exactly practice what was considered safe, law abiding driving. He just got from one point to another and that’s all he cared about.

“Then I’ll do it myself.” You sound determined. “I’m going to leave a note for us in the lair.”

“You do that.” He revs the engine when something solid hits the metal door. As guessed, their usage of props to push it down faster was coming into play. “Now, can you hold on to something? We need to go.”

If only those idiots just realised that the windows covered by newspapers were right there, ready to be broken.

“Only if you promise to let me drive next time,” you say defiantly, drawing this whole ordeal out.

“Whatever,” he urges. “I promise. Now can we go?”

“Wait for it...” There’s a devilish smile on your face. “One.”

There’s a loud creak as the door finally gives way.

“Two.” The same people you left tied up in the room burst out, almost stumbling over each other in the process.

“Three,” he completes it on his own, not waiting for you to finish because God knows how long you’d stretch it out just for the drama.

Your excited screech of laughter as he narrowly misses a rod that gets thrown at him like a fucking javelin temporarily distracts him from the brain freeze he gets when your arms wind around his waist to hold yourself in place.

There’s angry screaming and bullets that whiz past in an attempt to get him to stop but a swift turn around a corner, pulling the both of you out of their sight is enough to get rid of them.

“We should get a few weapons and go back,” you yell over the wind rushing by, barely audible.

“You do that in your own free time,” he shouts in response, yanking you through narrower lanes and less popular streets.

“Maybe I will, you bore.”

Still, you shut up for the rest of the ride, only grumbling when he stops the bike to tell you that no, you cannot let go just because you want to throw your hands in the air like in the movies.

You hop off when he finally pulls up on the street outside your lair, adrenaline still pumping through your veins. He waits patiently as you unbuckle the helmet, switching off the engine.

“You gonna drop me off at my door too, now?” You snicker, fingers pulling off the helmet.

He looks at you for a second before dropping the kickstand into place and dismounting from the motorcycle.

“I was kidding.” You laugh, handing him your headgear that he shoves into his backpack.

“You’re pretty capable of gettin’ abducted along the way.” An absurd notion, considering it’s a short path from the road to the door.

“Oh, how chivalrous.” You let him tag along anyway, for his peace of mind.

“My ma didn’t expect any less.” A couple of sharp lessons from Winifred Barnes and Bucky was nothing short of a damn angel.

You knock on the door three times, crossing your arms over your chest as you waited.

“Aren’t you the one with the key?” Bucky questions, one hand on his waist.

The door swung open in the middle of his sentence revealing... you.

Another you.

“Nah, she has it.” Ex-Kidnapped-You raises your head in acknowledgement at Doorway-You.

“Ah.” He fucking knew it. An unnatural sense of smugness blossoms in his chest.

“Hey,” the both of you said at the same time.

Doorway-You looked way more relaxed, a little less grimy and dishevelled but exactly the same.

“Buck, I see you met my other half,” the you from the doorway greets him. “Or other whole, actually.”

“Sure did.” He sends a glance at Ex-Kidnapped-You.

“You can go on in. Big first day, huh?” Doorway-You refers to the you beside him.

“You wouldn’t believe,” Ex-Kidnaped-You mutters, pushing past the entrance and disappearing inside.

“She gonna be okay?” His gaze trails after your clone.

“Oh yeah, just needs to recharge.” You turn around to make sure she’s fine. “She’s made of some pretty strong carbon, technically almost indestructible.”

No wonder ‘you’ said they couldn’t hurt you.

“Heya, sarge.” You draw his attention back to you. “Always good to see you.”

“Can’t really say the same about you.”

“Ever the emotional repressor, Mr Barnes. I like this little leather show you got going, did ya wear it just for me?”

He shifts his balance to his other foot, feet slightly wide apart. “Take it that the clone machine finally worked?”

“I was in the middle of celebrating.” You sigh, recalling the events of that morning. “Teleported home for a second to get some champagne and when I came back she was gone.”

“Irresponsible.” He tsks, head shaking in disappointment.

“Sorry I didn’t take amateur kidnappers into account for my risk factor analysis, Bucky,” you shoot back, pressing on his name for added annoyance. “Anyway, I did the responsible thing. I sent all the evidence I had to you guys.”

“Real clever.” Bucky looks at you in dry amusement. “Attack on the clone? Really?”

“Hey, always make time for a good pun.” You finger gun, lopsided grin on your face. “Did the team like it?”

“They thought it was a typo.” Or a code. He really had Wanda to thank for his big revelation. “Your video didn’t help either.”

“Don’t tell me they couldn’t make out it was me.” You laugh, crossing your arms over your chest.

He doesn’t reply, pursing his lip inwards in sympathy, but more so to conceal a smile.

The happiness drops from your face slowly, horror taking its place. “Don’t tell me they couldn’t make out it was me.”

“Good job, your machine worked,” he adds helpfully.

“C’mon, there were so many differences,” you whine, the success of your endeavour the last thing on your mind.

“That is your literal clone,” he points out, only to see you- clone you- walk into the giant box in the corner of the room, bright green light emanating from it like a xerox machine.

“How could they not tell the original apart from a copy?” You look genuinely offended. Insane. “Not even Sam?”

“Guess you’re not unique enough.” A rise and fall of his shoulders signify his attitude towards this whole thing. “Think I like your copy better, too, actually.”

“You’re so mean.” You puff in disbelief. “I’m a 100% original. How many mad scientist teachers do you know?”

“Two.”

“I don’t mean now, that’s not even the-” You poke at his rock hard chest. “You are so much more annoying than when I first met you.”

He thinks it’s good relationship development.

“I have to deal with you every weekend.” He watches your finger drop from his chest. “Picked it up along the way.”

“Boo hoo, talking like you don’t have deep, deep feelings for me.” You roll your eyes. “I see right through you, Bucky Barnes.”

“Can you see the part that couldn’t give less of a shit?” He gestures to himself. “It’s all of it.”

“You think you’re such a comedian, huh?” You narrow your eyebrows. “How did you know she was a fake then, huh?”

Busted.

“Probably ‘cause you didn’t talk as much today,” he dodges. “Actually had some peace of mind for a change.”

“You knew before you got there, you liar.” You push past his fabrications. “You figured it out before everyone else.”

“You literally put it in the title.”

“Yeah, but the rest of the team saw it too.”

“Rest of the team didn’t know you were building a goddamn clone machine for months.”

“You remembered that?” You pulled away, palm over your heart. “Oh, sarge, you paid attention to me.”

His nose twitches.

“You said it, like, eight hundred times.” He could use both his hands to count the number of references you had offhandedly made in the last three weeks alone.

“Why'd you go save me when you knew it wasn't real?” you continue to challenge relentlessly, knowing fully well that he was fibbing.

“Because you fuckin’ peer pressured me. Had the whole team around me when you sent your little video during breakfast.”

“Just admit it,” you coo, ignoring all his justifications. “You noticed it was fake me right away but showed up anyway because you’re wildly in love with me.”

“No,” he says stiffly.

“No as in you won’t admit it you have a crush on me, or no as in you didn’t know it was fake me?”

There was no winning this.

“Good day to you.” He pulls the motorcycle helmet on to hide the expression that plain as day screamed the former of your two options.

“Also,” you bring up indignantly, “she even got to ride the fucking bike and I’ve been asking to drive it for months now!”

“We-” he chooses his words carefully. “-compromised.”

“Oh, you did?” Your voice lowers at the newfound information, interest piqued. “I’m gonna hold you to that then, whatever it is.”

“Doesn’t count.”

“Absolutely does,” you huff. “A promise is legally binding. Blue’s Clues taught me that.”

“Bye, Y/N.”

“You’re my knight in leathery armour,” you swoon, switching sides immediately, “Kinda.”

“See you next week,” he says in farewell, determined to leave before you made it worse. “Try not to get killed by then.”

“Why, so you can do it yourself? Protective much?” You pull him back when he starts walking away, laughing slightly. “Wait a second, you weirdo.”

He sighs, staying put anyway, arms crossed impatiently over his chest.

You pull out the pen tucked behind your ear and slowly tap him twice on each shoulder in a makeshift knighting ceremony. “For your sacrifice.”

He rolls his eyes at the ludicrousness, tongue clicking against the roof of his mouth.

You ignore his lack of enthusiasm, pressing your fingertips to your lips in a small kiss and then to his nose, given that it was the only part of his face you had access to.

“That was for your bravery.” You grin brightly at him and he sure as hell is glad he’s wearing the stupid helmet because he can feel his cheeks light up a bright crimson.

“Thanks.” His voice sounds gruffer than a second ago. He clears his throat.

“Now you’re my knight in leathery armour,” you fawn, nearly falling over yourself dramatically. “Let’s ride into the sunset together. I love you.”

“You’re ridiculous,” he calls out over his shoulder, turning away to return to his bike. “I despise you.”

“But you don’t.”

He really didn’t.

also i managed to fuck my phone up really bad so all proceeds from my ko-fi go towards getting it fixed

Next part

#bucky x reader #bucky barnes x reader #mcu fic #bucky fic #bucky barnes fic #bucky fluff #bucky barnes fluff #bucky angst #bucky barnes angst #harmless fic #winter soldier x reader #Winter Soldier #bucky barnes #bucky

948 notes · View notes

kitacco · 4 years ago

Text

sunrise.

pairing: fem!reader, gojo satoru.

genre: angst with happy ending.

summary: time doesn’t always heal.

cw: mention of manipulation, violence.

wordcount: 4.1k.

! part two of clouds !

the sky is clear when you look up into the sky. even though the sun is not out, and instead, the sky is covered with grey clouds, you still like to believe it’s clear.

he made you believe that the first time you two met.

it wasn’t like you were escaping from reality, he simply thought if there was something you could change, then you should. you believed him, after so long.

how could you describe how he makes you feel? you had never felt it before. he felt like the orange sky adorned by the full sun, illuminating the grass and bringing warmth to the body despite the breeze. was that an exaggeration? probably, he didn’t think so, though. he made you believe you could rewrite reality with only your imagination.

meeting him was fate. he told you that, you thought it was sheer coincidence and two people on the right place. he was a little more romantic than you, though.

you had been to therapy for about two years.

things weren’t easy, and honestly, you wished you could forget about it.

your therapist assured you it wasn’t your fault - it took you a while to understand that.

you were aware that it wasn’t entirely your fault, what happened was a casualty, sadly, an experience you had to go through, but also a lesson you had the opportunity to learn from. it wasn’t easy, you understood that after a year of one session every month. you cried a lot, more than what you expected, and you felt responsible. because, if you hadn’t fallen for him, everything would’ve turned out well.

you were quick to learn that your emotions shouldn’t make you guilty, instead, who was to blame was him.

after a while, you finally accepted it.

gojo never contacted you after everything happened. you wanted to go on with your life like he most likely was, however, you were incapable of creating any type of relationship with people. what used to be a big group of friends became one, and what used to be exciting became scary. your friends, then, insisted you visited a therapist. you didn’t want to, at first. if anything, you wished you could simply erase the situation from your brain for the rest of your life, but how could you when subconsciously you failed to move on? your friend and her husband moved away, and so did you. she left the city while you moved to the other end of the city. not necessarily because you wished to avoid him; your therapist thought it was better to forge relationships from zero.

another year passed, and he had completely vanished from your life. you hadn’t told your new roommate about it, but you knew your friend had before you moved in. you didn’t mind. you knew she was trying to protect you. but, it’s not like he’d ever come around again - that you believed so.

you didn’t exactly know how you met him. maybe it really was fate, like he said once. only eleven months after the incident, you were still incapable of communication. leaving your house was scary and worrisome for anything other than therapy, so you didn’t tend to visit places much often. during the time, you were still leaving at your old apartment. your friend insisting on you moving on had already convinced you of leaving the building, and that day you were finally taking the boxes out.

you met by the stairs. a box had fallen from your hands straight to his feet.

as much as you apologized, he only smiled, assuring you he was alright.

and that was it.

you met him again on your way to your therapist. it was all too similar, you thought to yourself. he happened to have a friend living in the same building as you (he was literally your next door neighbor), and you were starting to open up to people a little more. you knew his friend, as much as one knows a neighbor. the guy was nice and he always gave your roommate eyes - she genuinely didn’t mind him.

you told your therapist about it the other day. and the next day, the guy was knocking at your door.

you remembered how nice having company felt. your roommate worked all day, while you only stayed at home. unable to properly work just yet, you only worked in the mornings at a coffee shop. it was safe and easy for you most of the times, only having to wipe tables and greet costumers. you didn’t complain.

he told you he had just gone to see his friend and happened to be curious about you. his eyes were a little intense but there was something about the tone of his voice and shakiness of his smile that managed to make you feel at peace.

besides your roommate, he became someone you could trust.

things didn’t go as quickly as it would’ve normally. you had never invited him inside your house alone, but when your roommate was there, you would let him inside. he would always visit with sweets or a cup of coffee for you.

it’s like everything repeated itself once again in some extent.

after hanging out with your roommate and him, his friend started tagging alone. the guy was sweet and funny, and in less than three weeks he managed to get your roommate to go on a date with you.

that was the first time the two of you spent alone.

you’d thought by that time you were over it. you were quick to understand there were some wounds that no matter how much you tried, would leave scars that still hurt.

but he didn’t mind waiting all the time in the world for you, and he let you know that.

looking back, you finally realized what real love truly was. he was what real love felt like.

small touches, assuring words, constant communication. silence wasn’t needed with him, and your eyes never spoke more than what words did.

you genuinely felt safe again.

gojo didn’t mean this to happen. after the yelling of your friend and the end of the friendship with his friend, gojo decided he was done with you forever.

so then, why was he involuntarily following you around the store?

he had no other intentions than to look at you for one last time. it had been a while, and he was genuinely curious about how you were doing. it was impossible to find anything about you, you had completely wiped yourself out from social media, and all your friends had blocked him too. that should’ve been enough for him to understand he wasn’t welcomed in your life anymore.

but then, why was he walking towards you? maybe for some closure, maybe to apologize, maybe only to say hi.

he couldn’t tell, but it was too late before he could make up his mind.

gojo tapped your shoulder quietly in the snacks aisle. he didn’t feel nervous, tense, or uneasy, almost as if the two of you were old friends that happened to meet again after so long, picking up the friendship where it had been left off. gojo was quick to realize that wasn’t the case, though.

“gojo!” you exclaimed, jumping at his sight.

had he always been that tall?

“it’s been a while,” he chuckled, looking back at your cart full. “you got a lot there, huh? you live closeby?”

gojo didn’t waste any time, pressing a hand against your cart, trapping you.

“no,” you’re quick to answer.

one of gojo’s eyebrows raises, and you look around, hoping someone can notice your state.

“oh, then you like this store? it has more things than the others around the city, i guess-”

“i’m sorry, gojo, i’m busy and need to finish this as fast as i can, but it was nice seeing you again!”

gojo’s gaze stays on your figure as you run off with your cart. he knows you’re lying, but which two was a lie? he didn’t know.

gojo should’ve taken the hint.

he walks out of the store, noticing the clouds turn darker than they were before. he’s deliberately waiting for you outside, hoping he can get you to talk a little more. was he curious about you? not really. was he wishing he could get you back?

perhaps.

you step out of the store with the cart full of bags, and gojo approaches you fastly, startling you once again.

“need a ride?”

“oh, no, thank you,” you decline, pulling the bags out of the cart.

“then let me help you to your car,” he proposes, reaching out for one of your bags.

“no!” you exclaim, grabbing them faster than he could. “i-it’s fine, there’s a station right there so it’s fine.”

“oh no, are you silly? so many bags on the train, you’re in a rush and it’ll more likely rain? c’mon, i’ll drive you home.”

you decline his offer again, your mind running wild. it’s not that you didn’t want to accept his generosity, but suddenly all the fears you once thought were buried floated to the surface again. suddenly it felt like all the progress you had made the past years was being ripped out of your consciousness.

“please, gojo, trust me, it’s fine,” you insist, grabbing onto your bags and trying to walk away. you look around, hoping someone sees the two of you, hoping someone would stop him. but no one is around, and no one but you can stop this.

but when you see gojo again, you finally understand it was never your fault.

gojo manages to get through you, and now you’re seated by his side as he mindlessly drives through the city. you texted your boyfriend the moment you got inside his car, telling him you were coming to his place and asking him to wait for you a few streets away. he instantly called you, but too nervous, you declined the call. you didn’t want gojo to know any more about your personal life, nor know you had moved away. if anything, you wanted gojo to disappear.

but could you tell him that?

“feels like the old times,” gojo mutters over the music on the radio.

like the old times?

an inexplicable feeling rises up your chest, yet you stay silent, wishing the ride was over. gojo would occasionally eye you, and everything would feel too familiar.

only that this time the tables had turned. because you realized you hated gojo’s guts, and he realized he loved you dearly.

“we should, hang out, again,” he mutters.

“i don’t think i can,” you speak, this time, your voice doesn’t falter, and gojo turns to face you.

“you got a boyfriend?”

“no,” you retort. “i’m busy.”

“you’ve always been busy, can’t you make some time for me again?”

you don’t answer. you knew too well, that if you say a word, you’ll explode. and as capable you thought you were of getting back to him, you could also remember clearly everything gojo had done to you. you don’t think it was worth the risk, trying to speak your heart out with someone like gojo.

he would never understand; he never wanted to. and he didn’t deserve to either.

“it’s here,” you announce, and gojo stops abruptly.

he frowns once he sees the man approaching his car, and you’re quick to jump out, telling him the bags were in the back. gojo steps out of the car too.

“hey, nice to meet you,” he says, and your boyfriend looks at you. “you’re his friend?”

“she’s my girlfriend.”

your breath hitches and you’re quick to grab his hand, distracting him from gojo’s conversation.

your boyfriend wasn’t an impulsive guy. he’s thoughtful and caring, fast to understand any situation he’s in front of.

but gojo is the complete opposite, and by experience, you know no one can go against gojo, no matter how hard they try.

“oh, that’s nice,” gojo taps the top of his car as he watches the two of you grabbing the bags. “i can help you carry some bags upstairs, if needed so.”

“it’s fine, thank you,” your boyfriend responds for you.

your boyfriend grabs your hand along the bags and walks towards the building gojo knows too well.

for your surprise, gojo doesn’t insist, and when you look back, he’s already inside the car, watching the two of you enter the building.

after that incident, you once again were incapable of leaving your apartment. and you didn’t want your boyfriend to leave his either.

gojo surely had changed, you noticed that the day you two met again. he looked taller, stronger, and unnerving. even though the two of you had been friends for many years, gojo was still unpredictable. you learnt that the last years of friendship you two shared.

“can i help you’” your boyfriend speaks.

gojo is at the other side of the door, in what was once your building, and outside what was once your apartment.

he cocked his eyebrows, incapable of hiding the smile creeping up his face.

“oh, you live together? that’s sweet,” gojo comments.

your boyfriend doesn’t respond, closing the gap between his body and the door so gojo couldn’t see indie his house, “yeah, what you want?”

“well, my birthday is coming and i thought maybe the three of us could celebrate it together. i don’t know if she told you, but we’re really good friends.”

your boyfriend nods, of course you haven’t.

“i don’t think we can, the both of us work.”

“oh, yeah? well, she always manages to make time for me, maybe i could ask her personally since you’re acting quite weird,” gojo tries again, his hand pressing against the surface of the white door.

“no, i’ll ask her and we’ll let you know.”

“fine, i’ll wait for your answer by saturday, if not, maybe i’ll come back,” gojo mutters, smirking.

your boyfriend wasn’t an aggressive guy. but, hell, he wished he could punch his face so bad.

he didn’t tell you anything about gojo’s visit nor invitation. you were already having a pretty bad time, you didn’t need more pressure put on your shoulders.

he genuinely thought he’d made the best decision - yet, he couldn’t help feel intimidated by the figure he happened to constantly meet.

gojo always told him it was a coincidence. he didn’t believe him, and fast enough, he started to understand your emotions. there was something eerie about the guy.

in no time, gojo had managed to push him against a wall. your boyfriend noticed what gojo claimed was coincidence was, indeed, his following, and too scared of him finding out you, in fact, didn’t live with him, your boyfriend started lying to you, claiming he had too much work and that he couldn’t go visit you. you facetimed and called each other often, but sadly, you felt uneasy, and your boyfriend knew too.

but he couldn’t bring himself to tell you.

“so, you made up your mind?”

your boyfriend stands at the other side of the door, startled by the tall white haired man. he’s smiling, as always, feigning a kind gesture as if the two of them were friends.

“sorry man,” your boyfriend speaks up. is his voice shaking? “we couldn’t get a break from work.”

“oh, that’s unfortunate,” gojo clears his throat, smiling again. “then maybe you guys can pick a day and we can meet then.”

your boyfriend observes him, eyes darker despite the blue orbits. his tapping his feet against the floor, unable to read gojo, and he, simply smiles. he knows he’s made your boyfriend nervous, and suddenly, he’s reminded of you.

no wonder you’d get with a guy like that.

gojo knew he couldn’t let you, though, you couldn’t stay with a guy like him.

how could he protect you if something ever happened to you? this guy was so easy to manipulate. it didn’t take more than a faint punch and the closing door for him to lose his composure in front of gojo. wasn’t your boyfriend supposed to be strong enough, like him perhaps? what was this guy gonna do if he were to be in front a situation like this again? he can’t seem to land a single hit on gojo, instead, receiving the other end. gojo expects him to put up a fight, maybe ask him to stop, but he doesn’t.

he wasn’t the man for you. gojo was, he just had to prove it to you.

snapping a picture, gojo sighed.

“guess i’ll have to show her what she’s missing, don’t you think?”

your boyfriend can’t stop him when he walks out of the door, and neither can he watch him, his vision too red, and the iron smell stir his insides.

gojo looks through the guy’s phone. who leaves their phone without a password? he was only proving gojo his unworthiness. this guy wasn’t made for you.

all he had to do now is let you know.

you hear knocking on your door. it’s late, your roommate is out with her boyfriend and your boyfriend didn’t tell you he was coming. still, hopefully, you walked to the door, expecting him to surprise you.

what did surprise you was gojo on the other side, with flowers on his hands.

“did i surprise you?”

it’s too fast, or maybe not, you don’t know. gojo casually enters your house, the place you had so long worked to keep safe. he leaves the flowers on the table, and approaches you, wrapping his arms around your figure.

you’re not shaking nor reacting, and gojo takes in your warmth.

oh, how much he missed you.

“i missed you so much,” he whispers in your ear. “did you miss me?”

you reach out for your phone on the back of your pants, carefully bringing it in front of you to quickly deal your boyfriend’s number.

a phone starts ringing, and it doesn’t take you long to recognize the ringtone.

“oh, someone’s calling,” gojo mentions, letting you go to check your boyfriend’s phone. it’s like he was expecting you to do so, answering the call like he hadn’t seen your caller id on the screen. “yes?”

“why do you have my boyfriend’s phone?”

“we happened to meet before i came here, nothing too serious, don’t worry,” gojo pats your head. “he was being an asshole, though, i guess i just had to prove him.”

you gasp when gojo brings up the phone to your face, “w-what did you do?”

“told you, i just wanted to make sure he was enough for you. he wasn’t, though, so i had to come let you know.”

only proves we’re made for each other, don’t you think?

you shake your hand, taking a step back.

“listen, listen gojo,” you start. your voice is firm and your trying to keep your cool too. gojo has many times proven what he’s capable of, and right now, you only wanted to at least postpone whatever he planned to do. “i think you should go home, it’s like, my roommates coming with her boyfriend, i don’t think it’s fine if they see you here.”

“you think? we can find out though.”

“no, i don’t think we should, so, let’s leave it here, we can meet tomorrow, okay? we can go have lunch together and catch up like old times.”

gojo laughs, shaking his head as he looks down to his hands.

“why are you treating me like i’m crazy?” he asks, and your breath hitches. you stop and watch his movements, suddenly the atmosphere turning colder. “because i’m in love with you?”

“i’m sorry, gojo—”

“is it wrong to be in love? are you really blaming me for my feelings?”

you can’t tell if he’s being honest or putting up an act. once again, he’s managed to get inside your head. you don’t have more options and your minds clouded, unable to find a proper solution to the situation, unable to end this.

“just give me one last chance, that’s all i ask from you.”

gojo knows you too well, too much for your own safety and sometimes for his own liking.

and so you find yourself sitting at a restaurant a few streets away from your apartment, waiting for gojo to arrive. you didn’t believe you’d made an irresponsible decision - in fact, this was the smartest way to handle the situation. your boyfriend pleaded you to not come. you could understand that, he’d finally met gojo and he’d sensed it; gojo was far stronger mentally and physically than you’d suspect. it was fine. you weren’t nervous or scared, no, because, if there was something your therapist had told you, was that, as long as you set your boundaries and knew your worth, you wouldn’t fall for his tactics anymore. you didn’t come here to make friends with him again or to assure him everything was okay, you were here to let him know it was over. plus, you had decided to give yourself a day to decide what exactly you were gonna tell him.

“didn’t expect you to come in so early,” he mutters, taking a seat in front of you. “you’re fifteen minutes—”

“let’s talk,” you interrupt.

gojo can sense it, you’ve changed. when he looks at you, he can tell you’re not that deer he’d used to hunt for.

he wants to tell you the truth - the one he’s made up in his head.

“i love you, i’m in love with you.”

it hasn’t been more than five minutes since he sat down. gojo notices the lack of reaction, the indifference in your face, and suddenly, he’s feeling nervous. he’s not good with words and you know that, yet you’re not reacting the way he’d pictured, imagined, last night. you’re not telling him you’re in love with him too and that you want to try again. you’re not smiling or reaching out to hold his hand on the table, or getting up to wrap your arms around his body. you stay in your place, with eyes boring into his, waiting for him to say something else.

but he’s got nothing else to say, “gojo, i don’t love you.”

gojo doesn’t like that, you can tell by the soft tapping of his shoes under the table. the restaurant is full and you know the last thing he wants to do is make a scene. because, if he were to do so, his true colors would show.

“how are you sure about that? is it because of your boyfriend?” gojo asks, leaning closer to you. “you know he’s not the one, you know he doesn’t make you feel the way i do.”

“gojo, everything is in the past,” you sigh, tilting your head, tired. “the both of us made bad decisions, played with each other, hurt each other, but that’s in the past and it should stay there.”

“no! i don’t want us to stay in the past, i need us right now,” gojo mutters, and if you didn’t know him well, you’d almost think he was pleading. “we’re meant to be.”

“we’re not!” you exclaim, now losing your patience. “we hurt each other, can’t you remember that? i let you play with me and manipulate me, and now that you’ve realized i did nothing but try to please you you’re suddenly feeling guilty! but things don’t work like that, gojo, mistakes like that can’t be embedded that easily. you have to take responsibility of your actions.”

“i never wanted to hurt you, i wanted you to be stronger—”

“and i am now, thanks to you,” you say. “thanks to what you did to me i’ve finally understand that i deserve better.”

“how do you know i can’t make it up to you?”

“because i won’t let you, because i’ve found somebody else that’ll make it up to me, and it’s not you.”

“one chance is all i’m asking—”

“you already had your one chance, and you wasted it.”

“then another one—”

you’re sure six months ago you’d fell for that. you’d wished to give gojo another chance. after all, no one was more special to you than he was. you could say, until this day, gojo was the most special person in your life. that didn’t mean you deserved to suffer to help him make it up to you. whatever he wanted wasn’t something healthy and neither of you deserved it. but it wasn’t your job to make gojo understand that, it wasn’t your responsibility to fix gojo.

gojo knew you had changed. he knew he didn’t have the right to come back in your life, nor were you supposed to help him embed things. still, he wished he could still have you by his side.

“it’s time to move on.”

because now, when he looks up at the sky early in the morning to watch the sunrise, he knows he wasn’t made to stay by your side.

#gojo angst #gojo x reader #gojo satoru x reader #jujutsu kaisen angst #jujutsu kaisen scenarios #jujutsu kaisen x reader #tw. manipulation #tw. violence

627 notes · View notes

duskyskz · 4 years ago

Text

50/50 - Chapter 1

Warnings - Toxic relationship, verbal/physical assault (NOT with main pairing), eventual smut but very very slow burn, boxer minho, trust issues reader, development on dom/sub dynamics, sex education to a degreedetailed tags to come with individual chapters.

After the final straw in your patience and self confidence leads you to moving in with your neighbour, you spend months unlearning bad habits and opening doors you shut yourself out from in your last relationship.

Word count: 5.5k

Minho watched as you picked up the corn cob, placing it gingerly in the basket on your arm, moving onto asparagus sprouts. How own hands are empty, not yet having decided on the groceries he craves that week. Instead he watches, from the irritated skin on your wrist to the focus of your eyes as you inspect potato bags in the next stall over. He’s just a neighbour from the same apartment complex, he’s seen you a handful of times at most before the current week yet since he started noticing your steps he can’t seem to stop.

You breathe out heavily, adjusting the basket on your forearm and he stills, frowning when you readjust the woven handle once more along your arm. There’s a coloured faintness there, and traces of fingerprints that make his stomach twist inside out uneasily. He knows your name, as of a few days ago. It looks like it aches. It’s still an urgent boundary to cross, what he’s about to suggest.

“You could stay the night with me, if you want. If that’d be easier.” He’s only a step behind you, having followed you quietly down most of the farmers’ market now. The sunhat he recognises you from by now bounces among the sea of hagglers on a wednesday morning. “I know fights in relationships can be rough, so if you need a place to crash for the night, my couch is free.”

You wish you could tell him how much you cannot possibly do that, but Minho’s offer is so innocent and well-intended you don’t have the heart to outright decline. “Thank you, Minho, but we’re fine. I’ll be alright.”

He doesn’t need to read into your smile to understand the rejection, trying not to let it phase him at the implication you’d be going home again that night. He knew better than to ask if you needed help carrying your bags after the first time he’d offered and your knuckles turned white.

“Alright. But you know my flat number if, right? If something happens.”

“If something happens.” You promise, and leave him with a nagging sense of discomfort as your dress fades into the morning crowds.

***

You don’t think of doing it as you enter the concrete building block and pass the elevator to the staircase. It would be too inappropriate, too out of the question to even consider. A night at another person’s house? At another man’s house, even more so! No way would you consider breaking a rule like that. You couldn’t step out of line like that. Yet as you passed the third floor, one you now knew held the possibility of the unexplored, you hesitated for a moment.

No, surely it wouldn’t be worth the scolding you’d get after. Would you even be able to sit still for an hour, without twitching? The handprint shaped bruise on your wrist still aches dully with the weight of the food basket as you open the door to your shared apartment two floors higher. You no longer notice the relief that sags your shoulders when you realise the house is empty apart from your own presence. You take in the respite of silence while unpacking the vegetables, trimming the corn cob for stir fry later in the evening. It's followed by bamboo shoots and chicken breast, which you’ve just about got simmering when the front door clicks open.

You hear him before you see him, taking as long as you can to plate the food before turning to face the man you shared a home with. He doesn’t return it, eyes glossing over you to inspect the dinner plate you slide before him.

“You know I prefer rice noodles.” He tuts out, frowning. His feet come up to rest on the other chair, but you weren’t going to sit at the table anyway, opting to linger by the counter. “And beef, your chicken sucks.”

He chews loudly, groaning as if to make sure you’re aware of your culinary inadequacy, but his face never lifts from the plate. He wasn’t wrong, really. Your cooking was barely edible enough to provide nutrition and you didn’t know how to make it better.

He keeps talking still, even as his pointer finger comes in contact with your forehead to accentuate his point with a harsh poke that makes you lean backwards against the counter top.

You don’t apologize. It’s better to not make any noise, you’ve come to learn, keeping your head toward the floor and body still and you’re almost impressed with yourself when the plate is thrown into the sink by you with a piercing clatter, not caring if the porcelain splits

The food is half eaten, but you don’t comment on the waste either. You’ll eat alone later, but the mess makes your exhaustion rear its head again when you think of cleaning it.

You know it’s no longer love that stops your words in your throat. The fluttering in your heart froze up into apprehension first, then fear and indifference. The physical alterations hurt, but they were only skin deep. They only lasted a few days, and once the ache faded you wondered if you felt the pain at all. The verbal attacks, that made your head hurt more. But you stopped talking back, because then they stopped faster.

The door slams again, rattling the walls loud enough to make a point of your boyfriend’s absence and shining light on all your failures as a partner. He wouldn’t be back tonight, or maybe even the night after that. You let your knees turn to cotton, slumping to cold kitchen tile. You don’t clean up the noodles in the sink. You’re not hungry enough to eat your own portion.

In a burst of conflicting emotion, you feel yourself stand and head to your bedroom. Maybe it’s the tiredness that made a home in your bones, maybe it’s the stress rattling them every time you’re in his presence, watching your step and calculating his every action before it happens. Maybe it’s the lack of all of that when you push your partner from your mind and let your heart betray you for a second to think of softer brown eyes instead, living in the flat two floors below you. It’s some twisted amalgamation of it all, probably, that makes you pluck your mascara from the bathroom, alongside a toothbrush and (on second thought, in case of emergencies) minimal changes of clothing into your backpack. You haven’t had use for it in a few months, not having gone further than the main streets of your own town in that time. It still fits enough for a weekend trip, and the weight of it hangs on you heavier than the clothing you packed would allow.

Would you really do it?

Minho could be mad at you for changing your mind, and maybe you couldn’t take that. You’ve developed a defence mechanism for one person, but could you for another so quickly? If his voice raised at you, you’re sure you’d cry on the spot like you used to the first few times in this house, too. But maybe you wouldn’t have to, maybe he wouldn’t even be home after you’d rejected his offer. He had no reason to be home, so you’re just going to check and confirm there really is no chance and no hope of you escaping this hellhole, that’s it. Your hopes would be rightfully crushed and you’d return with your tail between your legs, clean up after dinner, and head to bed like the fool you are.

Locking the door after you, as your housemate didn’t bother to, you trudge down two flights of stairs to the last door down the corridor, marked with a cat-paw print welcome mat and burgundy painted door. You knock twice with shaky fingers, and the sound is so light you wonder if he’d have heard you even if he was home at this late hour.

“Jisung, I said not tonight!” There came a shuffling from the other side of the door, and you were seized with fear of facing the other possibility - that Minho was no longer considering you’d come by, as you told him you wouldn’t, and he’s going to yell at you for ruining his night. The thoughts lurched forward at you as his footsteps grew louder, pounding in your head so loud your eyes blurred so instantly you couldn’t focus on the door opening and Minho’s silhouette against his low living room light.

“Y/n?” His response comes stalled too, letting a beat of silence pass between you as no words left you. He wasn’t shouting yet, so you took the chance to apologize as quickly as you could before the situation worsened. Your limits were thin tonight.

“I’m sorry, I know I said I wouldn’t come and that’s really stupid, I’m sorry.” Your thumb dug into the strap of your backpack at your feet. “It’s really late so I’m sorry if I woke you -”

“No, it’s okay.” Minho protests before you can word your final ‘sorry’, moving aside to reveal the rest of his hallway. “I wasn’t asleep yet. Come in.”

And that’s it. You expected more, to be honest. Some kind of questioning at least, scrutiny at your visual (and mental) state.

You don’t enter right away, thoughts wooshed out of your head. You don’t even think if he’d scold you for leaving the door open so long, but Minho just waits in the hallway, giving you space to cross the threshold of his home when you’re ready, watching as your expression blanks once the door closes behind you and he has to ask if you need help for you to take off your shoes and break out of the thought train. You hang your coat among his, after asking if he’s okay with that, and doing the same for your shoes. You hold your bag close, resting it on your lap as you sit down on your neighbors couch.

Minho looks the same as he did this morning, grey hoodie and equally nondescript jeans with a pale wash ending just below his ankles. He hangs around the hallway a few meters away from you, and you can tell he’s thinking about what to say before he voices his thoughts.

“Did something happen?” You hadn’t expected him to be so direct. You didn't consider this scenario beforehand, so you couldn’t answer instantly. “You said you’d come then. If something happened.”

“I’m not sure.” You decide to answer truthfully, though he may be unhappy with the vagueness of the statement. “Nothing out of the ordinary happened tonight, so…” You let the sentence trail off, but he knows the implication.

So I’m not sure why I came.

“That’s fine. Nothing has to happen for you to visit a friend.” Minho accepts your hesitance easily, and you’re instantly grateful for his keen senses. “It is late, so I’m not sure if you ate yet?” You shake your head. “I have some lunch leftovers I was going to heat up if that’s okay with you, though.”

Lee Minho was a glorious cook. Michelin level, you’d go so far to say, had you ever been to a Michelin star restaurant in your life, but you were convinced he’d qualify. Turns out his leftovers consisted of seared steak, grilled vegetables and an assortment of flavoured rice balls, which he served you with cucumber salad you saw him purchase at the market earlier that day. This was more elaborate than any meal you’d attempted to cook in your life, and you’d tell him so were you not so occupied devouring it. Minho didn’t think you noticed him glancing at you across the table, but the amazement in your eyes filled his heart entirely. He’s seen you look content, happy even on days he’d catch you by the vegetable stalls and spark conversation despite your brisk pace.

After he’d washed up, insisting you remain seated (which filled you with visible unease, to both his amusement and greater concern) you were forced to address the trickiest part of the night. You’ve had sleepovers before, but never with a boy. Never as an adult.

Stunning you for the second time that evening, Minho seemed to harbour no such fears.

“You can sleep in my room if you’d like, and I’ll move to the couch for tonight; but if you’re not comfortable with that, I’ll bring some blankets out for you into the living room.” The ease with which he approached the subject settled into your own head, and you nodded at his suggestions.

“I’d like to sleep here, please.” You pat the couch you’ve gravitated to after eating, quickly becoming the centerpoint of the apartment to you. Minho leaves for the few minutes it takes him to prepare a fresh duvet and pillow cover and you take the moment of isolation to break through the dam of thoughts clawing at your brain since arriving an hour ago. You weren’t sure if the time went by rapidly or dragged on. You only let yourself take in minimal information about the situation - taste of the food, the colour of his kitchen tile, the fabric of his clothing and softness of his living room rug. Small, manageable pieces of the greater dilemma you didn’t want to give attention to yet.

Midnight air mingles with your sigh as you lean back on your hands and tilt your head toward the window. Minho kept his curtains open for a glimmer of the nightlife. There wasn't much to see from the 3rd floor, but yellow light still flickers over rooftops and storefronts.Your musings are cut short when a mountain of bed covers drops beside you, delicately placed at the opposite end of the sofa. He must have switched off the other house lights on his way back, letting only the shy orange lamp illuminate his profile.

“The bathroom is on the left in the hallway, and my room is at the end of it, the last door to your right.” You note his directions in your head, nodding to show you’re listening. “Alright, I - I’ll let you sleep.”

“Goodnight, Minho. Thank you.”

He lingers by the doorway, balancing from one foot to another with an unfocused gaze. You don’t budge as he watches you, though he doesn’t seem to realise he’s staring at your feet, then your hands and face until your eyes meet halfway.

“I’m glad you came here. It’s good that you’re here.”

You don’t know how to reply to that statement, so you don’t say anything, and Minho leaves you with another soft goodnight and a flood of anxious thoughts.

***

Night fell rapidly, so much that when you switched off the remaining lights and laid to sleep. You were so stressed it made your head hurt, but the emotional toll made exhaustion greater, and you fell asleep within an instant. Minho’s duvets were plush, so big and fluffy you couldn’t see your own hand when you pressed down on the sheets. As you faded in and out of coherency throughout the night, a weight appeared by your feet. Too tired to be alarmed, you opened your eyes only when the warm pillow stood up, patting its way over to your stomach. It purrs against your cheek, whiskers tickling your nose as you blink back at it. It’s not surprising Minho has a cat - you’d picked up feline mannerisms in his behaviour before. It was endearing, now seeing the same slow blink in the eyes of the creature responsible for his habits.

It nudges its little head into your raised palm, rubbing against your hand. You give into the request happily scratching behind its ears, urging it to lay down next to you so you both could go back to sleep. The cat’s long body gives you something to focus on, easing the remnants of nerves from your brain.

***

You wake up more rested than you had been in weeks, despite pressure cramping your shoulder from the small couch you’d slept on. The living room is warmed by morning sunlight, though you’re not sure what time it is yet. You have no missed calls, and just one message from a student confirming the time of your session today. Creaks resound when you stretch, straightening out your bones from the night . The cat is nowhere in sight, but Minho must already be awake by the sounds coming from the adjacent room and you’re struck with embarrassment that he may have seen you sleeping. He would have walked right past the room, and since no door stood in the wide archway, he probably saw you drool right onto his pillowcase.

You consider sneaking out right then, grabbing your possessions and darting out the hallway, but you couldn’t leave without thanking him for letting you escape yesterday and for feeding you.

“Oh, hello.” The cause of your inner turmoil dips his head through the doorway, wiping his hands on a dishcloth. “How did you sleep?”

“Good, thank you.” Your knees bump against each other as you sit, patting down your hair. Minho looks well rested too, though his own hair isn’t combed yet and he’s not dressed to leave the house. Grey shorts this time with a plain white shirt hang off him, and he looks perfectly at home like that, humming a greeting at the floor when the cat you’d nestled into last night curls around his feet. White and ginger patches cover it’s fur, it’s belly a pure cotton shade as it rolls onto its back at your feet.

“You already met Soonie, right?” He laughs, pointing at your sweater, and belatedly you realise light-coloured cat hair clings to every inch of the fabric at your front.

“He came in to sleep here last night.” You pick at the frizzy hair to no avail. “I’m sorry if it got on your duvets, though…”

“It’s fine, my bedroom is covered in hair no matter how much I brush them out.” He joins you on the sofa next to the bundled bedsheets, placing the cat gently on his lap. Soonie makes himself content atop his legs, white paws dangling from the side. “I made breakfast for when you’re ready, and if you need to shower - I’ll grab you some towels.”

A shower did sound good, so you accepted his offer eager to strip from the clothes you slept in. Sweat was already making your sweater cling to your skin, and the cat hair combed through the fibers wasn’t doing the itching any favours. Not wanting to use up too much of his hot water, you rinsed yourself in record time. You packed your toothbrush, but not any shampoo, so you skipped out on washing your hair - taking Minho’s shower gel would be too much. You didn't want to go too far in his hospitality, and now he even cooked for you twice.

How could you repay that?

How were you supposed to make that worth his time?

You turned off the water then, not wanting to let your thoughts make you stall in the hot stream. You skipped out on wearing your sweater again, clothing yourself in the vest you had underneath and the pair of jeans you had last night. Feeling lighter now that the grime of sleep was washed from your skin, you looked around Minho’s bathroom before exiting. It was plain for sure, but accents of his personality lingered in the kitty paw-print of the shower mat, mint-scented shower gel and matching shampoo-conditioner set.

You’d never dwelled on whether Minho was a 3-in-1 shampoo user or not, but the knowledge he had dedicated creams and gels for each job reassured something inside you. It suited him. Yet the knowledge felt intimate, as if seeing the brand responsible for his mint and tea tree scent was encroaching on a level you weren’t supposed to know about as his neighbour.

You stood just beside the kitchen entrance, watching Minho set different dishes around the table top. Every flat inside your complex had similar layouts, so you were already familiar with the structure of his home. Still you watched, accidentally memorising the cupboard he stored his cups and cutlery.

“You can sit down, you don’t need to wait.” You faced his back, but he must have felt eyes burning on him. You sat down quickly, considering his words. Minho didn’t seem to mind a lot of things. It was unusual, being made aware of just how much instruction you relied on in unfamiliar settings.

And Minho smiles so much. It sets all your self preservation nerves on edge, analysing for underlying motive in his movement and sentences. You could clean his house if he asked, and replace the ingredients he used for your food. That would be the least you could do, and you’d settled on going about it as soon as he left for work - if he would leave. You had no idea what he did with his life apart from keeping you company on morning grocery hunts. But he was just so darn polite! He asked if you wanted any hot sauce, offered to butter your toast, even cleaned your dishes for you (again) that you had no idea what he could expect in return.

“Hey,” He calls over from the sink, “Give me a list of things you like so I can plan dinner later.”

“Why would you need that?” You still, glancing away from his mug collection.

“I only know you like courgette and hate leeks,” Wiping his hands on his jeans, he leans against the cupboards looking at you intensely. “And...you will be here for dinner, right?”

Would you be here that long? You weren’t expecting to. You’d go back two floors above and clean up the spilled noodles from last night, as your partner would have not, regardless of whether he’d returned home or was still out doing his mystery business. Minho frowns when you don’t answer, crossing his arms as you bow your head. You don’t want to anger him now, but how could you stay here any longer?

“Why would you want to go back there? It’s bad for you to be around that.” You know that, both at surface level and deeper - but how were you supposed to disappear? Sourness spread through your bones when you unearthed the feeling. You’re really scared - and you have been scared for years, but you never considered the feeling as such because opportunity never presented itself to escape. To admit you had to escape from something would be to admit you feared it, that you had been hurtt. You don’t know if you’re ready for that process.

“I don’t have anywhere else I can be, I still have things at that house, I can’t just leave.”

“You can.” Minho contradicts you immediately. His voice is level, gentle and coaxing, even though a strong resolve trembles in it. “You can stay with me as long as you want to. You don’t have to pay rent or anything, since I don't have a spare room but you can take my bed or stay on the couch if you like. Stay here for a few days, just - to feel better. It’ll make you feel better.”

He’s come to sit across from you, enough to give you space but enough for you to see worry lines around his eyes as he speaks. “I’ll give you space if you need it, just let me know if I can make things easier for you.”

“I’ll have to go grab a few of my things, I only got bare essentials yesterday.” Minho perks up right away, as if no tension hunched in his shoulders just seconds prior. It’s not as hard to agree as you thought it would be. You’re terrified, yes, of a step you know won’t end here. But you’re also more rested than you’ve been in so long, and the strain of all the stress become routine for the past years that you’re willing to grasp any straw at breaking the cycle. And Minho was nice. Everything you’d read between the lines of his actions was kind.

“Okay. Let me give you my number so we can talk while I’m not here, and you know - if anything happens, call me.”

You did go to fetch more of your things, after reassuring Minho it would be best if you went alone. If someone else was home, you could pass off your absence as work-related - it would be harder to explain why you weren’t alone.

His presence would just cause issues, and he eventually agreed to leave you on your own after you promised you had his number saved. You would also pay rent, but about ⅓ of it - on his insistence you got no proper room but a living room couch, and at your insistence you’d be using his utilities and house space. Your neighbour - housemate?- had to leave to do his own occupations, but assured you he’d be back within a few hours to help you.

You thanked him again for everything before he left saying you’d send him a list of your favourite food when you were done packing, and you set about your own tasks. He’d left the house keys with you, making the point of you more likely to be home before him.

They weighed heavy in your hand, the implications of the trust in his gesture more than the object itself.

You didn’t have a lot to move, but the transfer still takes you a few trips up and down concrete staircase. The majority of your haul is books, your own towels and toiletries. You’d have to perform an impromptu closet clearout, quickly deciding which old pieces to keep and which were better left in the past. Since Minho’s flat was similar, but inhabited one person only, his furniture would be cast to contain belongings of one. Working from home meant you were spared the task of office clothing or showy pieces, so all you had to part with was a few aged sweaters. You grab your laptop, a selection of favourite cups and plates so you don't have to borrow Minho’s all the time - though was it really borrowing if you would share the house?

You hurry as much as you can, but it still takes three trips up and down to completely transfer all traces of your life to the flat below. By the time you’re done, you decide to clean the small apartament to make organisation easier. It’s rapid work when you focus and separate Minho’s laundry without thinking about it. Darks, lights, and the sparse touch of coloured denims among his closet. Then you hoover, and by the time you finish hanging up the damp clothing on the balcony, it’s a while past lunchtime.

The turning of a lock swipes tension over your shoulders before you recognise Minho in the hallway, shuffling off his running shoes and hoodie. You meet him halfway, wiping your hands on your jeans to rid the laundry moisture.

“Hi,” His skin is flushed as if he’d been running, sweat sticking to the baby hair around his forehead when he smiles to greet you. Minho looks worn out, shoulders pulled high and taught. His breathing is laboured as he walks into the house, and only when he passes the threshold does he release the air in his lungs to slump in one of the barstools. “Did you get your things?”

“I don’t have a lot, so it only took a few trips.” You nod, following him to the kitchen. “I put most of them in the living room for now, though…”

“That's fine, we can go through the drawers and make space for you after we eat.” He reassured you, seeing you tug on your sleeves. “You didn’t send me a list of things you like to eat, so I got things I remember you buying instead.” His voice lilts into a pout as he looks at you, lips jutting into a pout before reaching into the bags he brought.

A strange feeling climbs higher and higher up your throat with every item he stacks on the counter and you wonder how much he actually spent on just foods you like. It grows stronger when you recognise your coffee brand, the cookies you got last week as he bumped into you that morning. A selection of fruits you used in a cake you gifted him last month, and sundries to fill the cupboards with.

“I can’t cook.”

Minho looks up at your confession, pausing from arranging the food.

“I mean, my cooking is edible at best.” You elaborate, looking away from his face to his hands as you lamely explain. “I could never, uh, make it taste good.”

“I’ll cook then.” Minho nods, shelving the sauce jars. Your eyebrows pull together and he must have noticed your hesitance, turning on his heel towards you. “Or I can teach you, slowly.”

“You can help me cook, and I’ll show you how to season different foods. We’ll start with things you like, so you already know how they’re supposed to taste. Then we can go from there.”

You want to ask if he’s sure, if it’s not a bother to have you around while he works to have someone hover around him needing assistance, but you do want to learn - If your food could taste half as heavenly as Minho’s cooking did, you’d be content. So you agree and he cheers at you, excitement contagious. And before you know it’s coming, there’s a surge in your heart at the sight of him again that makes grinning back at him a thoughtless action.

Cooking with Minho is more eventful than you expected.

When you watched him before, he navigated the kitchen with a practiced ease that made your awkward stumbles all the more prominent.

“Where do you keep knives?” He hands you a small knife, it’s green handle foreign in your palm.

“My hands keep slipping…” You fumble with the peeled onion as Minho tends the rice, tipping in a spoonful of white wine. The sting makes your eyes water, hazing your vision of the offending white bulb.

“You need to hold it with your other hand so it stays still, like a claw.” His hair was still damp, but now the moisture was from the shower he took before starting your lesson rather than sweat. You could recognise the mint scent in his shampoo and how it spilled over to his clothing, and no matter how reasonably awful it should have smelled mixed with raw onion you were cutting and the steam of boiling rice, you couldn’t get enough of the sensation. Minho acts open around you, treating you like a friend he’s known for years rather than an acquaintance from the farmer’s market. Only a day passed since you entered his home yet you felt so seen in his eyes. You must have been testing his patience not being able to cut a straight carrot slice without his help, but he never raised his voice above a patient hum. Sure, he did laugh a few times when your cucumber sticks came out triangles rather than evenly cut stips, but even his humour came without bite. His laughter was never at your expense, and it was kindling your heart alight at an alarming speed.

Minho (and his flat) became comfortable to you rapidly, and in the passing days your interactions all came more naturally than the last. Minho would leave around noon and come home just after 7pm, looking like he ran a marathon while you’d finish up your studies and the few zoom tutorials you teach for extra income. Despite his initial apprehension, he was grateful you took on cleaning duties so easily - he still insisted on doing the dusting and cleaning his bedroom himself, but it made you feel better to have some kind of input into house upkeep when you couldn’t contribute in many other ways. In the mornings he’d pass by the living room and you try your ebay to already be awake to spare yourself the embarrassment of Minho seeing you drool in your sleep, and in the evenings you cook together. Minho insists on increasingly difficult recipes, and you try to keep up despite recurring failures.

Five days into your coexistence, Minho is late.

Of course, you’ve only been part of his schedule for a week, but his arrival never differed by more than a few minutes - the gym he worked at was just a few blocks down the road. Tonight you wait with your phone in hand as 8pm rolls around, thumbs hovering over the call button. He did tell you to call him in case anything happens, but did that go both ways? If something happened to him, would he let you know too?

You knew he would not.

You weren’t nearly as reliable in that department, and it’s not like you could do much else than call emergency services - something he would surely do himself if he could call you in the first place. You can’t quite bring yourself to sit on the couch, leaning against the doorway to the living room with your eyes on the front door so intently you almost forget to blink by the time the handle starts to turn.

The unlocking click echoes in the silence you’ve sat in for the past hour and you shoot up, straightening your posture when the door finally gives way.

“Min?”

A/N: Sorry this is a day late, I was exhausted yesterday when I got home so had to delay it a little bit but now we're started! As you can tell this will be an incredibly slow burn, but I hope you enjoy the ride and see the development grow because I promise the deeper build up is worth the wait.

Tags: @healinghyunjin @lizsvcks @glitteryskzstraykidsdream (can't tag for some reason;;) @changbinscypher @spilledtee @linours

#stray kids #stray kids smut #skz #lee know #lee Minho #Minho #skz lee know #lee know fic #lee know angst #Minho angst #Minho fluff #50/50

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mieohmy · 4 years ago

Text

𝖴𝗇𝖽𝖾𝗋 𝖮𝗎𝗋 𝖲𝗍𝖺𝗋𝗌 | 𝖪𝗂𝗆 𝖲𝗎𝗇𝗐𝗈𝗈

PAIRING: kim sunwoo x fem reader

GENRE: fluff, humor, angst, somewhat implied relationship?, hotel del luna! au, head manager! sunwoo, hotel owner! reader

WC: 3.9k

NOTES: like one mention of blood, ghosts, heavily hotel del luna inspired

happy bday to one of my ults 🎉 lovely sunwoo 🎉ugh i can’t get enough of him 🤧so here’s a pt. 2 to this hotel del luna fic you can read here !

you don’t have to read the first part to understand but it’s recommended!- i mean it’s hdl sunwoo,,,, just saying. (also i’m not really sure where it lies in aspect to the original so just take it how you please ^^ )

✬

The girl groans. What happened?

She tries to recall what just occurred, but her head pounds in irritating waves of pain.

I was walking down the stairs outside..... and then I must’ve tripped and fallen?

She shrugs, getting up and cracking her suddenly sore and painful neck.

While rolling her head around to loosen it up, her eyes land on a sign. A bright, neon flashing sign that would effectively grab anyone's attention.

Huh, looks like a hotel.

There’s no explainable reason, but the girl starts walking towards the entrance.

Carefully opening the door, she peeks inside. Just from the beginning, the girl can tell it’s a magnificent and luxurious place.

Now she suddenly gets the feeling that she’s not supposed to be here. But there’s no one around, so the girl continues on, still rubbing her stiff neck.

It’s beautiful- the biggest hotel she’s ever seen. Other people pass by, and she’s extremely horrified and confused by their appearances.

What’s with all the fake blood and dirt? It all seems so real-

...It’s not Halloween today, right?

The girl explores the place, finding more and more sights to see. She turns the corner, eyes wandering around until she accidentally bumps into someone, falling down.

“Oof! I’m sorry-!”

You stare down at her, a bone-chilling glare on your face. “Who are you?”

Sunwoo follows behind you. “Hey, what's the matter?” His words and feet come to a halt when he sees you staring down at the girl.

There's a pause in which you all just stare at each other.

Until his eyes widen. “Yuna?”

Everything clicks. “Kim Sunwoo?” she gasps.

Your head whips to him. “You know her?”

Sunwoo seems so startled, his eyes never leaving her. “What are you doing here?”

The girl- or you should say, Yuna- stands up, nervously looking around. “I-I don’t know. I think I fell down the stairs and when I woke up, this place caught my attention, so I came inside. But since when did you work at hotels?”

Sunwoo fiddles with his tie, lip between his teeth. You keep your gaze on him, suddenly wanting to know more.

Sunwoo knows this girl?

Why is he acting like this?

What was their relationship with each other?

“Yeah,” he nervously chuckles. “I do-”

You cut him off with an obnoxious laugh. They both stare at you, surprised. “You two know each other?”

Sunwoo grimaces, “maybe we should go somewhere more appropriate for this.”

Once seated at your office desk, sunwoo explains everything.

“We’re childhood friends, all the way until when I went to the United States for college.”

“We haven’t seen each other in forever,” she adds.

There’s an unpleasant feeling growing inside you. You don’t know what it is- you haven’t felt it in a long time.

But what you do know is that you want her out of here. Nowhere near sunwoo.

You want sunwoo away from her stupid smile and stupid laugh, utterly despising the way the two of them get along so well and engage in a conversation so naturally.

Your eye twitches when her hand comes in contact with sunwoo’s shoulder after laughing at one of his jokes.

Sunwoo notices your brooding aura, turning to you with a knowing glance. “Is there something wrong?

“No, nothing at all, Manager Kim.” You enunciate each syllable slowly.

He frowns at the way you formerly call his name, “really? It seems like you’re kinda bothered by something.”

You wish you could kill sunwoo right now in front of her. Truly, a sight to see. “No,” you grit, even though there’s obviously something wrong.

Yuna looks at sunwoo. “Is it me? Did I do something?”

Curse sunwoo and his stupid looks, always attracting other girls and-

“I'm not sure.. It’s not because of Yuna, right?”

His eyes bore into yours, the corners of his mouth tilted up, and you lose your patience, effectively crushing the piece of paper in your hands to bits.

“Well, she’s not even supposed to be here-”

You stop abruptly, horrified.

Oh no.

Sunwoo turns to you. “What did you just say? She’s not supposed to be here at the hotel??”

You feel a rush of heat. “What-ha, no. I didn’t-“

But sunwoo knows you better than you believed. His eyes narrow. “Miss y/l/n, I thought you were trying to be a better person.”

You scowl, wanting to object but he cuts you off.

“If she isn’t meant to be here now, then that means she needs to leave,” he looks you directly in the eye. “Because this is the fates’ plan, isn’t it?”

Your mouth drops open, but you close it, pursing your lips.

“Fine.”

“Fine,” you say more forcefully, desperately craving your precious caviar and wanting to be anywhere but here. “This was a mistake. Her heart’s still beating. Tell her to leave quickly or else it won't be anymore.”

Yuna glances between the two of you, utterly bewildered. Sunwoo quickly turns to her. “It was nice to see you again Yuna, but I think you should leave right now.”

Her eyes widen. “Is there something wrong?”

You want to answer, “yes, you.” But instead, you just sigh.

“No. You just overstayed your leave. So get out.”

Sunwoo shoots you a look but it’s too late, you’re already (quite harshly) guiding Yuna out of the place.

Once you reach the exit -the doors to the human world for Yuna to find her consciousness and body, as well as go back to living her normal life again, Sunwoo speaks up.

“It was really nice to talk to you after a long time, Yuna. No offense, but I really hope I don’t have to see you again here.”

You just barely hold back a scoff. Yuna cocks her head but doesn’t comment on it.

Once she steps over the threshold, she suddenly turns back to Sunwoo, her eyes lit up, “wait sunwoo, we should meet up some-“

You slam the door in her face.

You try not to show it, but you’re fuming inside. And Sunwoo can definitely tell.

What’s so good about her?

It was really nice to talk to you again?

Tch. Who says that?

That girl’s not even that pretty.

You shouldn’t have said anything about it not being her time here and just let the girl leave to the afterwor-

“Miss y/l/n-!”

You blink. “What?”

You want to slap that smug grin off Sunwoo’s face. “I’ve been calling your name for the past five minutes, but you seem to be really distracted and upset even.”

You turn around, chin high. “No. I don’t know what you mean.”

“Well, I wanted to thank you.”

You look at him warily. “For what?”

“For doing the right thing.”

You scoff, continuing past him with your dress swishing behind you and heels clicking harshly against the ground.

Sunwoo watches you go with a smirk. He wishes to keep this version of you in his pocket forever.

✬

It doesn’t get any better the next day.

When Sunwoo comes in, you simply glance over him like he’s a ghost.

He’s annoyed of course, but at the same time amused and even endeared. Sunwoo likes seeing you jealous, even if you’d never admit it.

“Miss y/l/n, one of the guests requested a specific meeting with you. He wants-“

“No,” you say coldly, fiddling with your vast collection of earrings.

“But he-“

“Does he have money or any sort of offering?” You don’t look up even once from your array of sparkling beauties, and it frustrates Sunwoo greatly.

“Miss y/l/n.”

You finally stop moving at the stern tone of his voice.

“You’ve been alive for how many years? I expected you to be a little more professional and put your personal feelings aside at work.”

You splutter. “Personal feelings?!?”

You raise your pen at him threateningly, a fiery glint in your eyes. If it was anyone else, it wouldn’t seem scary. But it was you after all.

“You know I don’t actually like her like that.”

That catches you off guard, making you falter with the pen still in your hand.

“Someone else caught my interest.”

You furrow your eyebrows. Huh? Sunwoo likes someone? He has the time outside of his job to date?

You suddenly blurt out, “Who?”

He smiles softly. “Someone who’s really greedy and needs a lot of attention. But it’s okay. I’m willing to give it to her.”

Your chest tightens.

Stubbornly, you tilt your head to the side, avoiding his strong gaze for the nth time while the room suddenly feels a bit hot to you.

“Manager Kim, you’re still here?” The head maid’s voice catches your attention. She has a frown etched on her face, obviously unpleased.

Sunwoo shifts. “Oh, I totally forgot about the time. It’s fine. I can stay longer if needed.”

She hits him softly. “Don’t be ridiculous, you should get some sleep for tomorrow. You don’t want to be tired and not have the energy to celebrate on your birthday, do you?”

You tense, looking at sunwoo curiously. “Birthday?”

He shrugs. “Yeah, my birthday is tomorrow. It’s not a big deal, I don’t really celebrate it,” he turns to the head maid again. “But since you insisted, I will go home and get some rest.”

He bids his goodbyes, softly giving you one last, ‘goodnight’, before turning to leave.

Suddenly, a wave of guilt washes over from your childish actions, and you fall silent.

You didn’t know it was his birthday tomorrow.

You watch Sunwoo leave with an unreadable expression as the head maid looks at you knowingly.

✬

Sunwoo gets home exhausted, more than he realized.

To be honest, he completely forgot it was his birthday tomorrow. Since it was only his grandparents caring for him at a young age and his grandfather was at work most of the time, sunwoo didn’t really celebrate his birthday often.

It wasn’t a big deal, he didn’t care. His birthday was just like any other day.

When the head maid asked if the staff should prepare anything for him tomorrow, he politely declined. It felt wrong to celebrate when you were still ‘mad’ at him -not that he should've cared...

Sunwoo shakes his head, clearing it from all thoughts of work and you. Yawning, he climbs into bed and falls into a deep slumber in record time.

. . .

riiiiiiinnnng~

Sunwoo groans.

riiiiiiinnnng~

He rolls over, eyes barely peeking open. Who is calling at this ungodly hour?

He clumsily reaches his phone, checking the time.

2:57 am.

You’re joking, right?

“Hello?” He cringes at the sound of his deep and raspy slumber voice.

“Sunwoo.”

He’s immediately awake now at the sound of your voice.

It’s quite faint and soft.

What’s worse and even more worrying is that it's deadly calm.

“Y/n? What is it?”

“....can you come here? Now?”

He glances at the phone screen, confused until he sees a notification from you - ‘a location was shared with you’

Sunwoo’s too tired to think at this moment. He simply hangs up with an 'ok' and gets up to change.

He doesn’t really pay attention to the address, grabbing some random clothes- it’s 3am and sunwoo doesn’t feel like putting on his whole professional suit- before heading out.

It’s a strangely warm spring night, the bright stars twinkling in the sky catch his attention as he makes his way down the sidewalk.

He has no clue where he's going, but he follows the directions to you nonetheless.

✬

Sunwoo doesn’t know what to say.

Is he surprised?

Honestly, not really.

Is he confused?

Yes. Very.

Why would you invite him out to a restaurant in the early hours of the morning?

It’s obviously closed- the windows dark- but knowing you, you probably unlocked the doors and got the food you wanted anyways.

Sunwoo doesn’t know when the food ‘escapades’ started, but all he did know was that you were obsessed with watching that one eating show and liked to force sunwoo along with you to visit famous featured restaurants.

When no one else was there, of course.

So this isn’t that much of a surprise. That’s why sunwoo simply reaches for the handle- unlocked as expected- and heads inside.

Well, he was wrong. He was expecting the food.

But he wasn’t expecting it to be all of his favorites. With a cake topped off with illuminating candles in the dark place.

And you in the middle of it all, obviously bored and waiting for him. (Sunwoo wouldn’t dare say this out loud, but he thought you looked ethereal sitting at the table, starlight shining down and glowing around you. In short- he ironically thought you looked like an angel.)

“What is this?”

You sit up, groaning. “Finally. I was about to start eating without you.”

He looks at everything that you must’ve set up.

“Did.... did you do all of this?”

You shift uncomfortably from his intense gaze.

“Yes. Why?” Your voice turns into your normal bossy and annoyed tone. “You think I wouldn’t be capable enough to do this?”

He shakes his head. “No, I didn’t say that. I’m just shocked. After all, it's so early in the morning.”

You inhale, recalling the events that led up to this. After sunwoo left for the night, you had a horrible feeling in your gut for some reason. No -there’s no way you could be feeling guilty? You chided yourself, saying you were just being stupid, and went to bed.

But his nonchalant face kept popping up in your mind, leading you further and further from sleep, and you had no choice but to furiously get out of your extremely comfortable, plush bed and stomp out to find a suitable restaurant.

And here you were now. The two of you alone in a closed restaurant with a cornucopia of food at 3 in the morning.

“Did you plan this with the head maid? Is that why you made me go home early and get some rest?”

“No,” you scoff. He stares at you for a solid minute before you glare indignantly at him back. “It wasn’t planned!”

You look down at your perfectly manicured nails, suddenly avoiding eye contact. “I felt bad that I didn’t know it was your birthday and made you work overtime....” you gruffly respond.

Sunwoo looks around the restaurant.

It’s not the best, he notes. The banner is crooked, and the confetti everywhere is quite honestly getting on his nerves already, but he still feels warm. His heart grows for you and only you once again.

“Thank you, y/n.” His use of your actual name makes your insides flutter - it’s the way you know he’s truly being sincere.

“I really appreciate everything you did for me.”

His voice sounds so touched and grateful -you hate it. Because it makes your heart (if you even still had one at this point) feel weird too.

“Yeah, yeah, whatever,” you grumble.

He stifles a laugh.

“Are you just gonna stand there, or are we gonna eat all the food I prepared for you?”

He blinks. “Right.”

Sitting next to you at one of the tables, sunwoo examines the pretty cake you got.

“How are the candles not going out?”

You roll your eyes, getting your phone out to record a video. “They’re fake, I created them. Hurry and blow it out,” you command.

You quickly add, “I’m not singing the dumb song either.”

You press the record button, corners of your mouth curving upward when Sunwoo closes his eyes tightly to make a wish before blowing. The candles effectively go out with a whoosh, leaving you two in the dark.

You end the video, saving it to keep.

Sunwoo pouts, “we’re not gonna take any photos together?”

You raise an eyebrow. “Why?”

If anything, his pout increases. “It’s my birthday.....”

You let out a long sigh before taking your phone out again and opening the camera. Scooting your chair over to his, you lift the camera to capture the two of you.

Posing, you’re about click the button when Sunwoo suddenly jerks your chair much closer to his, causing you to start and look at him in surprise.

He grins. “What are you waiting for? Are you gonna take the photo?”

You grumble, nervously swallowing once you realize how close the two of you are through the camera screen.

You get several photos, most of them bad, but you keep them for memories anyways. Sunwoo wants to laugh at how pretty and innocent you seem in the photos compared to real life.

You’re about to put your phone away, but Sunwoo begs for one more.

Rolling your eyes, you put up with him -just for today.

Raising the camera, you smile cutely one last time, about to click the shutter button, when you feel a pair of arms wrap around you, pulling you back until your back meets a warm chest.

You freeze, face turning to shock as you hear the button sound. After the photo’s taken, Sunwoo casually drops the hug, completely unaffected as he goes back to the food.

You stay still, the ghost of his warmth around you still lingering.

“Miss y/l/n, are you gonna eat?”

“H-huh?” You quickly spin around to see sunwoo digging into the food already. You fight back a smile at the sight.

While you two eat, sunwoo stares at you.

“What?” You wipe your face in case there’s food or something on it.

He chews. “Nothing. I’m still surprised you did something for my birthday after I said not to.”

You sit up straighter, your voice suddenly serious.

“Your life should be celebrated. Everyone’s life should be celebrated. It’s a precious gift to still be living and breathing on this earth. So enjoy it while you can,” you state.

Sunwoo swallows, looking down with a small smile. “Yeah, you’re right.”

A peaceful silence occurs for a couple minutes.

“Hey,” sunwoo speaks up, “I think this is the first birthday I’ve had while working for you.”

You slowly nod.

And it could be the last.

You don’t say it out loud, but the thought burns deep within. Not wanting to think such somber things on sunwoo's birthday, you clear your throat, taking your phone out to look at the photos.

The last one makes your breath hitch.

Sunwoo’s arms are wrapped tightly around you, his face happy and content and eyes shining prettily. Your eyes are wide, lips parted in a small ‘o’.

Quickly, you turn off your phone, watching sunwoo finish his food.

“Are you done?”

He nods, a content sight leaving his lips.

“Finally, I thought I was gonna fall asleep,” you snort. You pull a medium-sized bag out of nowhere, it’s quite plain and simple.

“Huh? What is that?”

You try to seem neutral. “It’s just something I saw that looked pretty.”

Sunwoo's eyebrows raise.

“But it didn’t match the fancy aesthetic of my room, so you can have it,” you add hastily.

He coughs.

Roughly, you shove hand him the bag.

Sunwoo gently takes out the wrapping paper, examining the ‘present’ you got him.

It’s some weird contraption. That’s the first thing he thinks of. As he examines it more closely, he realizes there are stars and constellations decorating it.

“....what is this?”

You try to act nonchalant. “It’s just a decoration you can hang from your ceiling. And I got it charmed to protect you from angry spirits and whatever. I don’t know.”

Sunwoo’s eyes widen.

You got this as a present for him?

When he doesn’t respond, you sigh and reach out to take it back.

“If you don’t like it, I’ll just give it to someone else, sheesh.”

“No!” Sunwoo practically shouts, protectively shielding it from your grasp.

You gape at him.

He blushes. “I-I like it a lot.”

You clear your throat, trying to shrug it off, but sunwoo leans in.

You freeze.

Is he gonna-?

Instinctively, your eyes squeeze shut. You wait. And then a warm feeling lands on your cheek for a couple of seconds before leaving.

After some time, you deem it safe to open your eyes. And come in contact with sunwoo staring back at you, an indescribable emotion deep in his eyes.

You can’t find it in yourself to look away for some reason.

Then a sudden noise outside- probably a stupid owl- startles the two of you.

You start laughing nervously. “Ha, I think we should clean up now, haha.”

He chuckles. “But I want to do that again.” You almost drop your phone, spluttering. “Kim Sunwoo!”

He rolls his eyes. “How many times do I have to tell you, it’s Manager Kim.”

“W-whatever... just help me clean up!”

After you finish cleaning, sunwoo requests for you to tell him a story.

So you close your eyes and think back to when his grandfather worked for you. And start talking of one of the crazy episodes that constantly occurred back then. Somewhere in the middle of it, you come back to your senses and find sunwoo asleep, cheek against the table.

You stare at him with a fond look.

“Come on,” you whisper, picking him up easily. “Let’s go home.”

You eventually get him into his bed, quietly as to not disturb his sleeping roommate.

Sunwoo must’ve woken up because he calls your name. You look down at him, sleepily blinking back at you. “Will you hang up my present for me?”

You scoff, but already are you reaching for the gift.

“Where do you want it?” You ask, but sunwoo’s already passed out again.

Rolling your eyes, you hang it right above him from the ceiling, near his bed.

For a minute, all you can do is admire sunwoo, the stars shining above and creating a beautiful glow around him. He looks so peaceful when sleeping, like the little kid he once was. And honestly still kind of is.

You sit down next to him on the bed, gently brushing his bangs out of his eyes.

I know we don’t speak our feelings to each other often, but seeing you happy is enough for me.

You smile softly at his sleepy pout. “Happy birthday, sunwoo,” you whisper. But before you can leave, a hand swiftly wraps around your wrist. You look down.

“Stay the night. It’s too late for you to be out. Stay next to me,” he mumbles.

You know that he knows you’re well able to take care of yourself at any time, but still, you can’t find it in yourself to say no.

You slowly make your way over, tucking yourself under the covers, and sunwoo automatically wraps his arms around you.

It’s warm. He’s warm.

You probably shouldn’t be doing this.

But it’s his birthday.

What if his roommate comes in and sees?

Although all those thoughts run through your mind, you find yourself drifting off under the stars, not caring. Underneath the luminescent gift you gave him that hangs from the ceiling, twinkling brightly over the two of you.

Just for tonight.

✬

Bonus ㅠㅠ:

“Aren’t the stars so pretty tonight?” you remark.

Sunwoo stares at you, never looking away. “Yeah.”

“A shame that the moon is hiding this peaceful night.”

“And what about the sun?” he jokes.

Your eyes flick towards him.

The sun is right here next to me, you internally answer.

My sun that always shines so brightly over me is you, Kim Sunwoo.

✬

a/n: guys im not lying i almost cried writing this and thinking about Hotel del Luna,, i miss it sm ;-;

reminder- any kind of feedback is always appreciated :)

#kpopscape #the boyz #kim sunwoo #sunwoo #kim sunwoo x reader #sunwoo x reader #sunwoo scenarios #sunwoo imagines #the boyz x reader #the boyz imagines #the boyz fluff #the boyz scenarios #sunwoo fluff #kim sunwoo scenarios #kim sunwoo imagines

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starglow-xx · 4 years ago

Text

owning a bakery and being discovered by the ada & port mafia (part 1)

platonic! edogawa ranpo x f! reader

type of writing: head canons !!

this is part of my head canon series, flour & fluff !!

tag list is open !! go to this google form and fill it out to sign up!

series synopsis: owning a bakery at 20 is tough; even more so when you have to handle members of two opposing organizations! this is your journey to meeting these fools and creating an unlikely bond with each of them! but only at the cost of your peace and sanity.

fandom: bungou stray dogs

content: fluff & platonic stuff

author’s notes: this will be a multiple part series of head canons and this is only part one! this series will include both the agency and port mafia members, and then something special for the end. maybe i’ll even write a real one shot/scenario for it. if there’s enough interest, i might open up a tag list for this! i hope you all enjoy!! <33

also, ranpo is 25 in this part; kenji, atushi, kyouka, and the tanizaki siblings aren’t part of the agency yet, only yosano, kunikida, and dazai are, but in the next couple parts, it will be established that the tanizakis are

and (n/n) means nickname :)

meeting the greatest detective

your bakery, Sakura’s, which you named after your late grandmother (who was also your guardian), went into business when you were 18 right after graduating high school

who needed a culinary course when you were trained by dear ol grandma?

your grandmother died when you were 16, just as you started your second year of high school

you were devastated of course, but you knew she wouldn’t want you to wallow over it too long

so in those last two hard years of high school, you took part time jobs at other bakeries and saved lots and lots of money

by graduation, using your life savings, the money your grandmother had left for you, and all the money you earned working, you were able to buy the small building—with a reasonable amount of money left over to survive— you and your grandmother had been eyeing back in her hometown, yokohama, to start your bakery

the building was a bit run down, but you were planning to give it a makeover anyways

it was a bit smaller compared to other buildings around, only having two stories, but on the plus side, the second floor had taller ceilings and was an apartment

is that realistic? probably not but bare with me here

aNYWHO

you finished putting your bakery up in about 4 months, then finished up your apartment 2 more after

you opened Sakura’s at 7 in the morning then closed at 8 in the evening

when you first started, you did quite well!!

especially with those who went to work on early mornings and families

the time when you first opened was the most peaceful, but you admitted that it was a bit boring, and you wished for a bit more excitement

and boy, the day edogawa ranpo stepped into your bakery was the catalyst for the chaos and excitement that was soon to come

not that you knew that

if you did you would’ve never let him in

maybe

you were 19 when ranpo discovered Sakura’s, and it was completely accidental

he finished solving a case and was on the way back to the agency, and he—not surprisingly—got lost and then it started to rain really hard

it was pouring; there was even the cliche thunder strike and everything

you saw the brown clad man across the street and you ran out with two umbrellas (almost getting hit by a car mind you) handed one to him and practically dragged him inside

with the heavy rain on the forecast, Sakura’s was empty, so you gently pushed him down on a chair and you rushed away to find towels

even though the two of you had umbrellas, the two of you were still soaked

finding said towels, you quickly dried yourself the best you could then you draped your towel over your back and rushed over to give him his as well as a warm pastry and your special hot honey lemon tea

ranpo laughed as you placed down the refreshment and snack, thinking that you knew who he was and was giving him special treatment

poor bby blinked and went :0 when you said you didn’t

“you don’t know who i am?”

“no. am i supposed to?”

“...”

the 25 year old blanked and you worried that you broke him and started to apologize profusely

he cut you off claiming that he got over it he didnt but seeing as the bakery was empty and it was pouring pretty badly, he demanded you give him all your attention sit with him so he could tell you all about himself and what he’s done

the two of you got along quite well

you were amazed with all the stories he’s told you

you honestly acted like a cute little kid listening to fairytales

he told you that and in response you threw a napkin at him

“wow ranpo-san! that’s amazing!!”

“you look like a little kid”

cue the napkin

he was happy with all the attention, praise, and sweets you gave him

the agency gave him praise sure, and made sure he had a lot of snacks but it was refreshing to have someone give him this much and your treats were the best he’s ever had

after he told you all his most interesting cases, the two of you just rambled about the most randomest things; going from the best desserts and snacks to the stupidest things his coworkers have done

you guys were on that last topic for a while

you two talked and rambled for hours, and when it hit hour two and the rain was still pouring, you just went ahead and slipped the “we’re open” sign to “closed” even though it was only 2 o’clock

you thought that this was probably the loving goofy older brother relationship that you missed out on

“ranpo-san, you’re kind of like the brother i’ve never had”

“and you’re still like that little kid”

cue another napkin to the face

don’t worry, he already adores you <3

he just likes to make fun of you </3

*cuts you off as you’re talking to squish your cheeks* “(y/n) you still have a lot of baby fat and you’re pretty short...are you sure you’re still not in high school or smth??”

*incoherent talking due to pressure on cheeks* “ranpo-san you have 3 seconds before i kick you out”

at around 6, the rain came to a stop and by then, the both of you were all dried up

before he left, you gave him a map so that he hopefully wouldn’t get lost again and gave him a couple boxes of treats for him to have and to share with his coworkers

you closed early so you had to give away at least some of the remaining treats somehow

he wanted you to go to agency with him so he didn’t have to carry everything but you declined saying that you didn’t want to bc you wanted to rest

and for payback for calling you a little kid

you were 19 goddamnit

you already placed everything neatly into two bags so it was easy to carry but this bitch still had the audacity to pout and whine at you

and he calls you the little kid, jeez

you never told him but, you almost gave in

you never told him. but he probably already knows

ranpo san knows all after all; even you knew that by now

the two of you had also exchanged phone numbers and when the two of you showed each other what you each put for a contact name along with the note below, the two of you broke out into grins

you named him “the greatest detective <33″ & put the note “new nii-san <33 & bully </3″ and he named you “cute bakery girl” with the note “best follower, sweets supply & annoying little kid”

when he left, you properly closed the bakery and taped a sign to the door saying that you closed early for personal reasons

when everything was cleaned up, you marched up into your bedroom, plopped on your bed, and took a nap

you deserved it

at the agency not too long after that, ranpo had arrived and when he opened the door, everyone rushed towards him in concern asking if he was okay

he waved them off and walked towards his desk and plopped down in his seat

he placed the two bags in front of him and took out a box of cream puffs and started to snack on them

his coworkers watched him blankly as his scarfed down one after another

after finishing that box, he rummaged through the bags to look through the different kinds of pastries you’ve given him

noticing that there were people still staring at him he paused before sighing in exasperation

he began to whine at his coworkers saying that no one told him it was gonna rain and that they were lucky that he happened to be in front of Sakura’s

“why did no one tell me?! it was pouring and i was soaked! you guys are lucky that (n/n)-chan’s bakery was right there! you would’ve probably lost me! how would the agency even function without me here?!”

no one wanted to be the one to tell him that they had no idea who he was talking about and that they did in fact tell him that it was gonna pour

they can save that, and their questions for another time

next >>

tag list is open !! go to this google form and fill it out to sign up!

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httpsaiki · 4 years ago

Note

Congrats on 300 love! I don’t think I’ve requested something yet from you even though I love your writing! Anyway, could I request a fic where Teruhashi and the (fem)reader are dating(usually I don’t mind what pronouns the reader has but for this one it’s kinda relevant. But you can make it gender neutral if you want)? So the two have been dating for a few months. The reason Teruhashi entered this relationship wasn’t because of “love” but because she wanted to get her fans off her back and what better was to do that than enetering a relationship with another girl. She this that it may help get her male fans off her and at first it’s great. Then the reader starts to see the relationship declining. At first Teruhashi was sweet and kind but now she is kind of rude to the reader, saying things like how she is embarrassing her or that if Teruhashi is so perfect why isn’t her s/o capable of being that way too. Mean ik (I don’t like Teruhashi if you couldn’t tell), the reader is also dealing with comments from her fans saying that the relationship is a charity case and such so she is feeling horrible in the relationship. A fight happens between the two and mean stuff is said. They break up and the reader isn’t taking it well. Not because she is upset she isn’t in the relationship cause she is happy to be out but because of the backlash from fans. Seeing this either Kuboyasu (jabjshsk I love him sm) or Saiki (love him too) comfort her and they begin to hang out more till they start to date. The two are now in a healthy and loving relationship and the reader gets to see what that feels like and how that wasn’t what she had with Teruhashi... I really just write this whole fic out lmao. I was going to write it but I’m simply lazy and I wanted to request something from you. As always ignore this or change anything if you don’t like it an take your time please don’t rush or stress yourself out. Ily hun❤️❤️

Hi!! Thank you so much <3! I wanted to say that I adore this request and honestly was ready to drop everything to write it, what an amazing idea you have here! I’m worried I focused a little too much on the Teruhashi part but, man, I’m a sucker for angst so it was a lot of fun. I think I may have gone a little overboard, as I don’t think I’ve written something this long before. I’m sorry if it’s wrong or not quite what you wanted. Thank you so so much for this request, I love it!

Small edit: I forgot to add I picked Saiki for this, as I think I write him a bit better than Kuboyasu!

— Reader is female! Warnings for slight angst, break up, fighting.

WC: 3041

Italics are Saiki “speaking” telepathically.

Teruhashi is the perfect pretty girl, on the outside at least. —————————————————–

“So, what I’m trying to say is… Y/N, will you be my girlfriend?” Teruhashi asked on the rooftop one fateful evening after school. She looked as gorgeous as ever, trying to hide her slightly blushing face as she avoided your eyes. The wind was blowing gently through her hair, causing it to sway ever so slightly to one side. The sun was setting behind her, giving her an even more angelic glow to her appearance. You said yes, of course, how could you not? It was magical, especially when it was from the world’s prettiest girl. There was no way you could reject her.

The perfect couple. That’s how it appeared to be. For some time, that’s even how it was.

Teruhashi Kokomi. Your stunning, admirable, and perfect girlfriend. She’s amazing. A few months ago when she asked you to be her girlfriend you were exhilarated. The thought of dating what many considered to be the perfect girl was a chance you knew you just couldn’t pass up. All the time spent with her felt like cloud nine, she made sure you were happy no matter what, and of course, you tried to do the same for her. Her reputation truly held up, even in private.

Over those months, it amazed you what a wonderful girlfriend she was, having seemingly endless affection and love for you. It felt like she was more in tune with your emotions than you’d ever been. She was always ready to listen to your problems, whether you just wanted to vent or needed solutions. She was such a giver in the relationship that you even felt a little bad about it.

She knew that, but she’d never tell you. Not yet, anyway.

So many precious memories flashed through your mind as you thought about her. From getting ice cream on hot summer days to study dates amid a cold, snowy winter (where there wasn’t as much studying as there was cuddling). All the late nights you had spent with her, talking about everything and yet nothing. Video calls at the bright and early hours of the mornings just so she could get your opinion on what she should wear for the day. Every little thing you did together seemed as perfect as Teruhashi herself.

So where had it all gone wrong?

The relationship seemed like it was going great. What happened? What had you done wrong? Recently, Teruhashi had been acting anything but herself. She’s been aggressive, rude, and not interested in anything to do with your relationship at all. She’d avoid you, ignore your calls and texts. When she did see you, she’d throw insult after insult your way, blaming you for problems that were far from in your control, ones that her in her life, not yours. But that wasn’t even the half of it.

What made it even worse? That was only in private. In public, whenever she was with you (or without) she put on her little show of being Miss Perfect. You don’t know how you didn’t see through it before, looking back it was so obvious how fake it was. While in public you were sometimes able to convince yourself she still loved you, clinging onto a desperate hope that things weren’t nearly as bad as reality would tell you. Maybe she was just having a rough time? Her life must be hard, with the constant stalking and fans harassing her along with the need to keep everything in her life completely in order. She must just be tired of it and need somewhere to vent her anger. You didn’t mind being that person, but just not like this. You couldn’t always expect her to be perfect, and you hadn’t. You did your best to make it clear to her from the start that you didn’t need her to be perfect all the time and that you’d be there no matter what. If she wanted to relax in private with you, she was more than welcome to. She never did.

You had it rough, too. Her fan club was constantly harassing you as well. They called you names worse than she did, and had gone to extreme lengths just to get you to break up with her. They stole your things, drew on your desk, and were all-around horrible towards you. They claimed the only reason Teruhashi was dating someone like you was that she pities you, Teruhashi could do so much better. Deep down, you knew that may be the case, but she still asked you out for a reason, right? You never once complained about it, nor told Teruhashi. It would be okay in the end, and being with her was worth it.

Looking back, the red flags were there from the start. It would’ve been better if you caved to the fan club’s wishes from the beginning.

Your arguments seemed to only get worse with time. Insults being thrown your way more than once a day. During a particularly bad argument, she expressed how she felt she was the only one keeping the relationship alive, the only one that truly cared. For the first time, you fought back.

“How could you say such a thing! I do my best for you, I’m sorry we can’t all be Miss Perfect! I try so hard and yet it’s never good enough, is it?” You yelled in frustration, your voice was a lot louder and far more powerful than you intended. Teruhashi was visibly taken aback, despite her constant berating, you had never once raised your voice at her. She paused for a moment, clearly to think. You could easily tell just what she was thinking about.

You had no idea she’d been keeping track of everything you told her. Well, you did, but you never imagined your insecurities would be used against you in the way Teruhashi has been. Screaming them, bringing them up to your face, and forcing you to face them without warning. Using them to insult you, making them worse, and letting them dig deeper into the back of your mind.

Her face contorted in anger, even angrier than before. Listing things “wrong” with you as if her life depended on it, Teruhashi began her angry ranting. She wanted to get it across to you that she’s perfect and you’re far from that. She listed everything you’d ever done that irked her, every annoying thing you’ve said, and every problem you’ve ever told her about. She mocked emotions you’d told her in confidence and confessed that she always found them dramatic and ridiculous. She expressed how embarrassing it was to be seen in public with you, how she should only be seen with people on the same level as herself. If that wasn’t enough, she dealt one last finishing blow.

“I never loved you anyway.”

She turned and she left, slamming the door to your house shut behind her.

Your mind went blank and you barely noticed your knees hitting the floor as you collapsed to the ground. You didn’t realize you were crying until you felt the tears soaking into your shirt. You couldn’t see nor hear, everything around you felt numb and dark. Did she really mean all of that? There was no way you were that bad of a girlfriend to her.

Why did you still not want to break up?

Days passed and you still hadn’t left your bedroom, let alone your house. Your phone was blown up with texts from your friends, asking if you were sick. You learned from glancing at a few of the messages that Teruhashi had told them that. Reading her name hurt, it made you feel ill as you remembered what had happened a mere few days ago.

Your phone dinged once again. You reached out and grabbed it with a weak grasp, not having the energy to do more than the bare minimum. The name on your screen made a wave of nausea come over you, the content of the message not helping either.

From: Kokomi♡

I’m coming over.

You really needed to change that contact name. That wasn’t what was important, though. Why was she coming here? What else could she possibly need from you, and what on earth else could you possibly offer? You didn’t have much time to think about it, you needed to appear at least somewhat put together by the time she got here.

Your hair was just finished drying as you pulled on clean clothes. You made sure the entrance and living room areas of your house were clean, along with the kitchen. The knock at the door sounded so familiar, Teruhashi always knocked the same way. It sent chills down your spine. Pulling on the best neutral face you could muster and forcing your legs to move, you opened the door.

She looked different. There was no glow to her anymore. She’d never looked less like an angel in your eyes. Even compared to when she’d been yelling at you. It was jarring, almost like she’s a total stranger. It’ll make talking to her easier, you mused.

You wordlessly invited her in, stepping aside as she avoided eye contact and made her way to sit in the living room. Even once you were sat in front of her, she still wouldn’t look at you. You couldn’t tell if that was because she felt shame or disgust. You just hoped it wasn’t the latter.

“What do you need?” You started the conversation, keeping your voice as steady as you could muster. You were quite impressed with how well you were doing.

“We need to break up.” She stated, still not looking up. You rolled your eyes.

“As if I’d stay with you after that.” You spit out, trying to keep your words from sounding too venomous. A moment of silence, you could feel your heartbeat quicken in your chest. The nerves were starting to get to you and one of you needed to say something before the panic could set in. Luckily, Teruhashi did.

“They were right, you know - the fan club?” She said quietly.

“What?” You were surprised, she knew about that?

“It was like a charity case. I only dated you to get them off my back. Didn’t work though. Shame.” Her voice was calm, way too calm to be saying something so harsh. She was fine just ending your relationship like that, no matter what you’d been through together.

“Oh... of course.” She really had never loved you. You were just a tool she could use to escape the mindless drones that claimed to support her. So it all had meant nothing. It was just too good to be true.

She stood and wordlessly left, walking out of your life for good. Good riddance.

Your pain was only beginning to set in. You couldn’t care less that she broke up with you, you were miserable dating her anyways. No, the hardest part was you would be truly alone now. You knew once word got out that she broke up with you the whole school would blame you. There’s no way their perfect pretty princess could do wrong. It hurt to think about it, you’d probably lose your friends over this. There was one person, though, just maybe one person you could talk to.

Saiki Kusuo. An average looking boy, he didn’t stand out much. You had been friends with him months ago before you dated Teruhashi but she forced you to stop talking to him when you started dating. You never understood why, but she eventually told you that it’s because she used to like him before she got with you and she found it awkward for you to talk to him. You understood. The guilt ate you alive, but you complied. From that day on, you’d never again spoken a word to him.

You could tell just by looking at him he wasn’t like everyone else. He didn’t fawn all over Teruhashi when she entered a room and maybe that’s what drew you to him right now. He’d be the perfect friend, someone that wasn’t obsessed with her. You just hoped he’d forgive you.

“Hey, Saiki?” You asked, shyly walking up to him. He glanced up at you, an uninterested expression plastered on his face. He wasn’t visibly upset by you, but that only made you more nervous. You have no idea what he’s thinking. Realizing he wasn’t going to reply, you continued talking.

“I was just wondering if you’d be willing to have lunch with me. I-I know we haven’t spoken in a while but there are some things I’d like to clear up.”

Saiki knew exactly why you stopped talking to him. He wasn’t going to blame you for that, either. It wasn’t your fault. Sure, he was a little upset about it, you were someone whose presence he actually could tolerate. You were nice to talk to, mainly because you knew when was a good time and when to stop. Traits Saiki greatly admired and appreciated in a person. He might have even liked you a little.

He wasn’t about to let you go. Not as easy as the first time. “Sure.”

His response was curt and blunt, but you couldn’t help the small smile that graced your features. It was your first genuine smile in months. Maybe the whole world wouldn’t be completely against you.

“Thank you.” You stated simply, turning to sit back in your seat. It seemed like such a meaningless thanks, but Saiki knew there was more behind it than that.

Lunch came quickly enough and before you knew it you were eating under a tree with Saiki. You explained everything that happened over the last couple of months, how awfully you’d been treated behind the scenes. You apologized more than necessary for abandoning Saiki, trying to convey that you didn’t want to, but your ex-girlfriend had somewhat forced you to.

Saiki was forgiving, and far more understanding than he needed to be about the situation you were in along with the one you found yourself in now. Deep down, he was happy to have you back. Even if you weren’t super close before, he wanted to help you feel better and get over the torturous relationship you had just left.

So Saiki was there for you. The little lunch meets becoming a daily occurrence and he did his best to keep the Teruhashi fan club away from you. Talking to Saiki felt different, it was like he was genuinely listening and cared about what you told him. He was eager to help and aided as much as he could in your recovery.

Weeks passed as the routine kept up. On the weekends you’d meet for dessert and studying. Everything you did with Saiki felt right, it felt safe and healthy. You hadn’t realized how suffocating your old relationship was - even during the good days.

It wasn’t until Saiki asked you out and you said yes that you truly experienced what being loved felt like. It was late, well after the sun went down. Saiki had snuck into your house, claiming that his parents were being annoying but you knew that was a cover for the fact he missed you. There was no way they were awake these early hours of the morning. He saw your tired face under the dim light that peaked in from your window, as you woke up from his sudden appearance in your bedroom. Saiki felt a small rush. He needed to tell you. Now.

“Y/N” He spoke.

“Saiki?” The confusion was evident in your voice, “You spoke?” You were clearly tired after being disrupted from your sleep. Never having heard him speak before wasn’t helping with your state.

“Yeah.” He whispered, reaching a hand out to brush the hair out of your eyes, letting it linger on your cheek. It was a little more than platonic, just like the look in his eyes.

“I really like you, Y/N.” He whispered once again, so quiet you almost didn’t hear it.

But you did. Your eyes shot open, blinking a little in surprise. There was no way he just said that, you must be dreaming. There was no way this pink-haired boy that made you feel more than anyone else ever had was standing in your bedroom, at four o’clock in the morning saying he likes you.

You sat up, “You really mean that?” It came out without you intending it to. It probably sounded rude, but you were far beyond the point of being awake enough to care.

“Yeah.” He said, a small chuckle coming out, “I do.”

You didn’t say anything, all you did was slide back on your bed, making room for Saiki and open your arms. He took the hint and made himself comfortable next to you. He let out a small sigh, doubting he’d be able to sleep like this despite his relaxation. He wanted to protect you for as long as he could. He stared at you, probably a little more than he should. Saiki couldn’t help it, his eyes wouldn’t leave your form. You looked like you belonged in his arms, or so he thought. He was having a hard time processing his happiness at your figure in his arms. It had always been you, he was well aware of that now.

“You still awake?” he asked, going back to his telepathic communication. You mumbled a small yes, prompting him to continue talking. “Thank you,” he started, “for asking me to sit with you at lunch that one day. For coming back to me.”

You let out a tired giggle, “You missed me.”

“I did.” He felt you tense when you said that as if you were shocked to hear it. That didn’t surprise him, he had his doubts you were told you were cared about enough, especially in your last relationship.

Looking down at you once again, he realized you’d fallen asleep. A smile grew on his lips as he made a silent promise to show you what real love feels like. He’d cherish you to the moon and back. It’s what you deserve and he was going to give it to you.

#the disasterous life of saiki k #saiki no psi nan #saiki k #saiki kusuo #saiki k x reader #saiki kusuo x reader #saiki #teruhashi #kokomi teruhashi #kusuo saiki #kusuo saiki x reader #my writing

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allthingsfuckd · 4 years ago

Text

soft spot | Bucky Barnes x fem!reader

summary: Bucky, the diner owner pining for the reader, a regular at the diner and best friend, for years.

a/n: i wanted to post a Peter Parker fic but i had writer's block until i came to this idea. it's based on a few of my fav Luke and Lorelai moments from Gilmore Girls combined into this one fic. i hope you enjoy! as usual, feedback is very much appreciated and my requests are open. (you don't need to watch Gilmore Girls to understand it)

warning(s): fluff, teen pregnancy, absent father, pining.

“Coffee, coffee, coffee, coffee,” you repeated, your chest pressed against the counter, an evil smile on your face. He turned to face you and placed his hands on the counter, the chanting stopped. You purse your lips trying to contain your smile.

“You know it ruins your body, slowly corrodes your insides, and makes you die really really young, right?” he says squinting at you as he makes hand gestures.

“That’s the intention,” you say smiling up at him showing your teeth. You both stayed like that for a few seconds until he turned around, grabbed a mug, and the kettle from the coffee machine. Still squinting at you, he poured the coffee in the mug and slid it over the counter to you.

“I really hope it’s soon,” he grumbles, throwing the kitchen towel on his shoulders, and walks (or stomps) back to the kitchen. You sat there, coffee in your hands, smiling as you took a sip.

The door rings open and you hear a familiar voice. “Did you get one for me?” you turned in your bar stool to look at the figure that walked up to you. The beautiful girl who you delightfully brought into the world almost 16 years ago, Leah.

You shook your head, fake-pouting. A grumble came from the teen, something you could very much relate to; caffeine deficiency. “I tried, I tried but Bucky’s in his element this morning,” you shrugged your shoulders, stretching to the left to see if he was still in the kitchen.

“I’m gonna get one myself. He likes me,” she turned to face the kitchen, chanting his name as you did earlier. You hear them arguing as you enjoyed the drink in your hand. It was white noise to you — the arguing, especially in Bucky’s diner. With him being the crabby man you’ve always known him to be, it was basically daily routine.

“You were right, he is grumpy this morning,” she said when he walked away again, this time to the back. “Wonder what happened,” she said, shrugging as she took a sip of her coffee.

People in the town have always talked about how similar you both were; you and Leah. Sometimes it did feel like you were looking in the mirror and reliving your teen years as she told you stories about her day and it would scare the fuck out of you.

“Hey, so birthday planning. Let’s go,” she patted your forearm, waking you from your thoughts, excited to turn 16. You sat up and giggled, feeling excitement running up your spine.

“Okay, so we’re gonna have it at home this year,” she nods. “After last year’s event, I vowed to never again go to a Ms. Patty party,” you both shudder, remembering the massive drunken embarrassment you had to go through at your 15-year-old’s birthday party. “Before that, we’re going somewhere special, a surprise if you may. Then we’re going shopping, which thank god your birthday is the end of the month. Cause how could we have lux on your birthday without a paycheck. We’ve got a date with your dad, says he wants to finally actually give you your gift in person this year? And a massive birthday cake with your face on it by the one and only Sookie, as per tradition,” you yap, fast-paced.

“Wait, we’re meeting dad?” she asks, cutting you off. You nodded fast, feeling the caffeine kick in. She smiled, looking down at her mug. And that’s when you felt beat up. When it came to Christopher, it always put a smile on her face. Maybe they were right. You were alike. So easily manipulated by the one man in both of your lives, who is only always there when time and circumstances met his convenience. Something naivete and youth made Leah fail to realize.

“Okay, kiddo. We’ll discuss birthday matters this evening, it’s almost 8,” you picked up her bag, gravity pulling your hand down soon after. “Woah, wormie, what are you carrying? Bricks?” you teased.

“You never know how much reading I can get done with all the waiting we do in school,” she whined after downing her coffee. She kissed your cheek and left the diner.

“God, that kid is something special,” you hear Bucky say as you both watched her walk to the school right opposite the diner. You turned around looking down at your mug, Bucky noticing a frown on your face. “What’s wrong?” he asks, bending down to look at your face.

You looked up, smiling a little. “It’s Leah’s dad,” you scrunched your nose. You never talked about Chris with anyone in the town except with Sookie and Bucky, the name and subject a sensitive topic to you. Never saying his name as if terrified some sort of evil would be summoned. Your relationship with him was beyond complex. You were best friends before anything, you-me-against-the-world (or against parents and the rich community you were brought up in), you knew him like the back of your hand. You still see him as such but since you found out you were pregnant, it all took a different turn and it wasn’t something you felt was right for either of you.

“He called again,” Bucky’s voice annoyed, rolling his eyes. He’d met him once and it was the most awkward, testosterone-filled conversation you’d ever witness. You snickered, knowing how he, as much as you, despised talking about him. “Hey,” he touches your forearm with his leather-gloved forefinger. You looked up at him. “If anything, you come to me,” you half-smiled.

Everyone in this small town knew about the mother-daughter dynamic you and Leah had. Hearing how she turned out great with just you raising her was something you heard very often, something you wished you felt through every fiber of your being. But you didn’t. And Bucky knew you struggled with that, trying his best to remind you every time you doubted. More often than not, she reminded you a lot more of Bucky than Chris, since she grew up knowing Bucky more than her dad.

“Thanks, old man,” you said, snickering behind your mug. He backed away from the counter, his grumpy face showing again. His eyebrows furrowed and his cheekbones prominent. He hated it when you called him that. He may be over a hundred years old but technically he was your age, he would remind you. “There he is!” you cheered, laughing at his frowned face.

“You have a problem,” Bucky said, taking the mug from your hand, and you slid the bill across the table. Still maintaining your gazes, seeing a small smile starting to form on his lips.

You were known by the whole town to be completely oblivious, seemingly being the only one who doesn’t know how Bucky has been pining for you for years. Even from Mars, the love he held for you in his heart could be seen. He tried several times to ask you out on a date, getting closer and closer each time he would try but something always had to happen right at the time he wanted to spit the words out of his mouth. A coward, as Sam, another regular at the diner, would call him when he realized he'd been staring at her.

You did, however, think about dating him once after having a moment with him in the diner. It was late, and you wanted coffee after a bad date. Nearly kissing until Kirk came into the diner to get his emergency late-night burger. You brought it to Leah’s attention, but to that she immediately declined, saying it might ruin the best coffee in town for the both of you.

Saturday rolled around; Leah’s birthday. You woke her up at 3 a.m., another annual essential where you would tell her the infamous story of the day she was born.

“What do you think of your life thus far, my dear?” you brushed her hair as your lied down next to her.

“I think it’s great,” she yawned.

“Any complaints?” you asked, and she shook her head. “I think you’re a great cool kid and the best friend a girl could have,” you said to her lovingly.

“Back at ya,” she answered.

“And it’s so hard to believe that many moons ago I was lying in exactly this same position,” you looked up at the ceiling, flashbacks playing in your head.

“Oh boy, here we go,” Leah said. You shushed her and continued the story.

When you walked into the diner, you were greeted by Bucky at the front door. You frowned at him, being too close to you, your hands hovered over his chest. He opened an arm to gesture you to a table by the window on your right. When you looked, your jaw dropped. He decorated the table. He laid a beautiful lace tablecloth, with a vase filled with flowers in the middle and balloons next to one of the chairs and Leah’s favorite; a rainbow cake, with a lot of frosting.

“Bucky, what is this? This isn’t you. And flowers?” you looked at him, eyes in disbelief. He shrugged. “This is amazing,” you touched the table cloth, mouth agape. “Thank you, Bucky,” you hugged him, his face red to which you were too busy to see.

He walked away, knowing your order before you could tell him. The Y/N Special he printed in the new menu. Leah came into the diner, you sat up and smiled as you waited for her reaction. “What is all this?” her jaw dropped as well.

“It’s all Bucky,” you shook your head, as she caressed the lace tablecloth. “Where he got this tablecloth? No idea!” you leaned in, whispering loudly.

“Bucky, you big ole softy,” she said to Bucky who came with your regular. He blushed when she gave him a hug, quiet as he walked back behind the counter. Your eyes followed him, still surprised by his adorable gesture.

“Hey, remember what I said about dating Bucky?” you asked her, still looking at Bucky who was taking orders. She hummed as she gobbled down her food. “Do you think it’ll work out if we did?” you asked again.

“Honestly, I think it will,” she said, cheeks stuffed with food. “Especially after this,” she gestured to the decorations. “But yeah, I do,” she said after swallowing her food, following your gaze to look at him.

It was the first time she’d ever okayed a man in your life other than Chris. You both loved Bucky especially after what he’s been through. The grumpy demeanor he displays justified.

Lane, Leah’s best friend walked into the diner, squealing as she hugged and wished her. You stood up with your order and walked to the counter to allow them to chat.

“Hey, Buck,” you said, seeing him clean his toaster. He hummed, his back still facing you. “With your expertise displayed on the very lovely table there, could you help Sookie out with decorating my place while Leah and I frolic about town?” you asked, chewing on your waffles.

“Yeah, sure anything for my best customers,” he said as he grunted, fixing the toaster.

“Why don’t you use your tools?” you asked, pointing at the toaster with your knife. Stopping what he did, he turned to shoot a glare at you.

“My toolbox is sitting in your lovely home collecting dust because you could not and will not bother to give it back to me,” he complained. You snickered knowingly since you purposely brought up his toolbox.

“Well, it’s the only thing in the house that warns burglars that there could possibly be a man in the house,” you said melodramatically as you enjoyed your food. He grabbed the knife and fork out of your hand, your hands up in the air and mouth open. You placed your hands on your lap and sighed.

“Fine, you can have John back,” you said. His eyebrows crossed in confusion and frustration. You had a track record of being stubborn and playful. Something everyone who knew you grew to normalise.

“Not every non-living thing needs to have a name,” he said, putting the utensils back on your plate.

“Yes they do. I could tell visitors that John is in the living room sitting on the floor,” and you continued to yap Bucky’s ears off until you left to bring Leah on her birthday adventure. Reminding him that you left the decorations by the couch at home and he could use the key hidden under the turtle statue.

It was almost 1 a.m., Bucky heard a loud voice from outside, he dragged his feet to the window and opened it, sticking half his body out. Flinching when he saw a stone coming in his direction. “What the hell are you doing?” he shouted at you in your pjs, holding a pillow under your arm. He was wearing short-sleeved t-shirt, something you barely saw him wear.

“I’m homeless! I’ve got nowhere to go,” you shouted back. You heard a window open at the next building and turned to face it. An old man appeared out of the window.

“Hey, would you shut up? It’s late!” the old man with his thick Boston accent shouted at you. You looked at him and then at Bucky then back at him and burst out laughing. “Would you please get her the hell outta here?” the man said to Bucky and went back inside. He went down to get you, groaning as he walked down finding you, still in a fit of laughter.

“The resemblance? Uncanny!” you said, still laughing as he grabbed your arm and pulled you into the diner.

You helped Bucky set up the mattress after looking around his apartment and teasing him for things he owned. Being friends with him for years, you’d never been in his “home” above the diner before.

“What made you homeless tonight?” Bucky asks as you fixed the bedsheet together.

“Everyone else passed out drunk, even Chris,” you said. Shocked that you brought up his name, he fiddled with his fingers as he sat by his dining table. “I’m still kinda drunk. That name slipped out of my mouth,” you said, laughing nervously, sitting next to him.

“What did he do this time?” he asked looking up from his hands.

“Surprisingly, he was nice. He was a dad for once but he hasn’t left so we’ll see what happens,” you sighed. Bucky knew the reason for your uncertainty with raising Leah was because of Chris. The seed of doubt sprouted after years of Chris reminding you that you couldn’t do it alone which made Bucky’s blood boil.

“At least she’s not pregnant yet,” you said, running your hands against the wooden dining table.

“Oh yeah, I forgot about that,” he said. “You were 16?” he asked.

“15 and a half,” you pointed out. “Ruined my 16th birthday, my mother said. What a disappointment it must have been for my parents to have me,” you looked at him.

“Can’t imagine anyone seeing you as a disappointment,” he shook his head and you sighed.

“You know, Buck. Seeing what you do for Leah, I bet you’ll make a great dad one day,” you mention, examining his face. His eyes looked sleepy.

“You make a great mom. This whole town can vouch for that fact. For how young you were when you had her, 15 and a half? Every parent makes mistakes but you make the mistakes seem like fun,” you chuckled. “You were never alone in raising her. The town has played a part in raising her with you much more than Chris ever did so I don’t know what the fuck he’s talkin' about,” he says, a lump formed in your throat.

“Yeah, it’s just the daughter part I, uh, I don’t have down yet,” Bucky exhaled through his nose. You thought about a recent fight you had with Leah about the boy she’d been dating. Something you brought up as a problem because you were terrified of possible outcomes. But you knew he was a great boy, Dean. Sweet, charming and a gentleman.

“You looked great tonight,” you placed your hand on his, you felt the cold metal against your skin. You’d never really seen his metal arm, always hidden under the sleeve of his leather jacket and gloves. His signature look, even in the summer. You stroked his metal hand and even though he couldn’t physically feel your touch, he felt goosebumps form on his skin. Physical touch was never a part of your friendship.

He smirked, raising his brow and tilting his head making you roll your eyes. “I don’t mean you don’t look great all the time, you do, and,” you groaned. “Don’t be cocky now,” you clicked your tongue, laughing, still smirking at you.

“You looked great too,” his voice cracked, coughing to clear his throat. “y/n,” he called your name, his voice lower and deeper.

“Yeah?” you whispered. His eyes softer than you were used to, finally seeing his blue eyes.

“Would you want to go on a date with me sometime?” he asked, eyes looking at your lips then back to your eyes. He felt his palm get sweaty, heart thumped loudly in his chest he swore you could hear it. He’d always have the words play in his head but he never thought the moment would ever come.

You felt your cheeks burn, you never thought he’d ever ask you. He studied your face to predict what you were gonna say, cringing a little expecting a bad answer or a laugh.

“I would love to, Buck,” you bit your bottom lip. He let out the breath he held, smiling as he shifted in his seat. After years of pining, he finally got to take his favorite girl on a date.

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kawaiitoga · 3 years ago

Text

𝕙𝕠𝕨 𝕞𝕙𝕒 𝕔𝕙𝕒𝕣𝕒𝕔𝕥𝕖𝕣𝕤 𝕣𝕖𝕒𝕔𝕥 𝕥𝕠 𝕪𝕠𝕦𝕣 𝕓𝕚𝕣𝕥𝕙𝕕𝕒𝕪

╰┈➤ includes: bakugou, todoroki, jirou, midoriya, momo, aizawa

╰┈➤ cw: none!! just them being incredibly sweet (if there are any, please notify me!!)

╰┈➤ A/n: this was requested by one of my friends, so i hope i can serve it justice!! also if you have any requests, feel free to request them in the questions box!! <33 also im sorry if there are any word mistakes!!

╰┈➤ word count: 1,803 words

╰┈➤ summary: how they end up finding out it’s your birthday, what they give you and how you spend the day with them (they’re your s/o, general neutral reader)

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

bakugou

you would probably have to tell him like either when you first meet or something like that

but after you tell him, he would act as if he didn’t care, but he would put it on his calendar on his phone

he would also be the type of person to text you at midnight just to say happy birthday bc he wants to be the first person to say it and if you actually ended up replying, he would tell you to get to sleep skfsfn

i feel like he would give you something quite small, but something that you can always be reminded of him by when you have it

it would probably be something you can wear with his name on it or both of your names put together but he would definitely act as if it wasn’t a big deal

like you would be like “thanks katsuki, you’re so sweet” “stop thanking me, i just did it because people get gifts for others when it's their birthday"

i feel like he would also not want to make it a big deal bc he wouldn’t want people think he’s some big softie for you so he would act as if it wasn’t too much to get done

you would probably spend the day with everyone else, celebrating your special day, but he would want some alone time with you in the evening

you would either play games together inside or watch a movie together or even just lay outside on the grass of the ua dorm building and look up at the stars (it's entirely up to you!!)

it would just be really peaceful and you would both be able to just appreciate each other in the silence <3

todoroki

i feel like there are two ways he would find out about your birthday

number one is he overheard someone in the class talking about your birthday coming up and he would immediately take note of it or he literally just asked you

you wouldn’t really think nothing of it since he didn’t know your birthday before if it was the second option (and he would just want to know), but he would make sure to prepare like a least a few weeks earlier

he would probably get you something quite expensive (obviously using his dad’s credit card skfnf)

it would probably be like something that you’ve really wanted and you’ve talked to everyone about it, so he probably just overheard or you’ve even talked to him about it

and seeing your eyes light up as you talk about it, he would just feel so motivated that it was the perfect gift for you

and it definitely would be, since you never thought he would get it for you, but he would say that it didn’t even cost that much and you don’t need to give him anything back bc it's your special birthday (as if you would have to get anything back for him on a normal day skfsnfn)

he would also treat you to gifts throughout most of the day, whether that be taking you shopping or taking you to get food or even going to a theme park

he wouldn’t care as long as he was with you

the day would probably end with you both taking a walk somewhere (probably to the park) and you would just sit on a bench side by side and just admire the surroundings around you

“thank you for today, roki.” “you’re welcome, i hope you had a special day”

he would be so sweet about it all too skfnf

jirou

i just have a feeling that she would know skdndb

either by finding out from one of her classmates or just overhearing you talking about it from someone else asking you when your birthday is

she would definitely prepare something and she may also start to doubt how much you would like your gift

but anything from jirou would be a gift skfnf

she’s been preparing her gift for a while, and she’s quite nervous about it, but she wrote a song about your relationship omg

it’s just overall so adorable and she would probably wait until the evening to perform it to you

you would just be sitting in her room together and she would be like “i have something for you, which i hope you’ll like”

you’re honestly quite confused bc you didn’t really expect her to get you a gift since the whole day had gone by and she hadn’t given you anything

she managed to keep it a good secret and the song would just be about how much she loves you and about the different qualities you possess and what she loves about you (which is everything but she manages to fit everything into a 4 minute song)

literally hug her after she finishes bc it was amazing, like everything about it was amazing

the way she managed to make the guitar sound so soft and the tune was so slow and soothing

and her voice, her voice is just perfection

it would just be the best birthday gift ever

midoriya

he just straight up asked you and scribbled it in his notebook skfnfn

nah cus he’s been preparing this for MONTHS and he’s so nervous about it and especially when he’s around you as your birthday gets closer

so you probably know what he’s planning just bc it’s so obvious but bless him for trying skfnfn

i feel like he would get you something probably that he made or something that’s really special to him (and no it would not be some all might figure kdfn)

he would start the day off by getting you your favourite flowers as he knocks on your room door at like six in the morning

you would usually hate people waking you up this early but seeing him give you flowers and telling you happy birthday with the perfect grin on his face, you can’t help but not be mad

he would probably get everyone to say happy birthday to you like even bakugou would probably be forced to say smth or he would mutter it under his breath

he would make sure that you have a cake and that everything has to go according to plan, he would definitely be the whole leader of the day

then after the whole party is over, he would take you to a special place (either where you had your first date or where you first met) and he would just prepare a picnic for you both

it would be really sweet and he would end up giving you a special piece of jewellery or one of those matching jewellery that connects when you put it together

he would probably have to end up saving up most of his money for it, and he wouldn’t even mind bc it would be spent on you which would give him more motivation

“i hope you had a great day! it took a lot to prepare all of this and i really hope you enjoyed it! i mean even though, the candles arrived at least two minutes late than the designated time, and the cake had a darker shade to the outline than what i had requested and the-”

then the muttering starts, you’re gonna have to stop him and assure him that you had an amazing day and it couldn’t be more perfect since you appreciate all the hard work he had done

momo

she definitely just asked you like it would just seem like something she could easily slide into the conversation and she wouldn’t even notice like “y/n, when is your birthday again?”

and you would just answer her and not think anything of it, she would probably hear about when your birthday was from someone else but she would want to confirm from the person herself just to have a second source that was 100% correct

she would definitely go all out for your birthday, no doubt

she would make sure that at least everyone in the class knows and that everything would go according to plan which it would

she would probably take you out shopping and if you dislike shopping, she would take you to somewhere that you do like and would allow you to spend how much money you want

you would be quite unsure at the start since you don’t want to spend too much of her money but she would say that it’s for your birthday and she wants to treat you so she would insist on it

and don't keep declining bc at this point she’ll think that maybe she should’ve tried harder and she’ll start to doubt herself so please just spend her credit card skfnfn

she would probably get you something quite extravagant after the whole going out trip

whether it be an expensive piece of jewellery or some expensive clothing that you really wanted, she would make sure to get it for you

it would just be really sweet and she would probably be blushing whilst giving it to you after she sees how much you love it

“i just saw that you really wanted it, so i wanted to surprise you with it” bless her heart omg

she’s just overall very precious so please thank her for the whole day skdn

aizawa

for this one, let’s just say that you’re probably a pro hero also or you work at the school (it’s up to you)

he would probably overhear about your birthday coming up from another person, but he wouldn’t think much of it, he would just keep it in mind

on the day of your birthday, you would spend the morning in bed and he would probably get you breakfast in bed, just bc he would want to stay in bed for most of the morning also sjdnf

but if you wanted to actually do smth for the rest of the day, then he would oblige since it was your birthday

you would be able to do whatever you wanted to do, while he follows you around and tries to enjoy himself but he just enjoys being with you

he would end up giving you a ring (smth similar to a promise ring) but he wouldn’t admit it was a promise ring sjnffn

“i just thought it looked nice, don’t think much of it” he would say something similar to this but he would just say that to hide how flustered he is after seeing you appreciate it after opening the box

the day would be similar to a normal day, but just with you being able to enjoy yourself without having to be around the students or (if you’re a pro hero) having to fight villains all day

#my hero academia #mha x you #anime scenarios #anime #bakugou x y/n #todoroki shouto #bnha todoroki #bnha #jirou kyoka x reader #bnha jirou #midoriya x you #midoriya x reader #momo yaoyorozu #mha yaoyorozu #yaomomo #aizawa shouta #mha aizawa #aizawa x reader

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yuta-nakamots · 4 years ago

Text

Playing Games - n.yt

Pairing - Frat Boy!Yuta x Reader

Genre - College!AU, Fluff, Smut, Slight Angst

Warnings - Safe sex, swearing, alcohol consumption

Summary - Yuta is a notorious frat boy known for sleeping around with tons of girls yet never getting into a relationship. You never would have thought you’d become entangled with him until fate ends up placing both of you in the same beginner guitar class during your spring semester.

Word Count - 11.2k

A/N - i do not condone or promote the behavior or fraternities or sororities, especially during COVID-19, read a bit about it here. i am simply writing about my own fantasy in my own ideal world. with that being said, please remember to wear your masks and stay safe out there. this one shot will be my first work with smut in it so i’m open to pretty much any and all feedback. special thank you to @neocitybynight for helping me work out some of the plot!

Tag List - @jisungismymom @jikooksgirl19 @jungcity @boiolay @yasmini24

Written for the Bingo Collab hosted by @legendnct. Check out the masterlist here.

Prompts;

"Baby, I’m afraid to fall in love. ‘Cause what if it’s not reciprocated?” – Pink Sweat$ - Honesty

“So won’t you say my name, say my name?”– summer walker - playing games

“Don’t follow me, you’ll end up in my arms” – Joji - SLOW DANCING IN THE DARK

“Can you focus on me? Baby can you focus on me?”– H.E.R - focus

“Oh, how I love you. I just feel so lost without you.”– McKay & Jeff Bernat - Angel 2 Me

It’s the first day of your second semester of college and you’re starting to rethink your decision of signing up for Guitar 101 as you step into the classroom. You don’t remember what pushed you to add this course to your schedule other than the fact that it would knock off two off your graduation requirements, though surely there were other courses that could’ve done that as well.

You were quite the beginner to guitar, having only touched one maybe only a few times in your life and you were sure that you absolutely would not have ever thought about taking Guitar 101 if it wasn’t for your friend Mark, who had suggested it to you.

Mark is a sweet guy and you just so happened to have the pleasure of meeting last semester in your math class. He had walked in late on the first day and took the seat next to you as he muttered something about the campus being too big and not having building names displayed clearly.

Your friendship truly started the day he came in without any of his belongings, not even his backpack. “I, uh, woke up late and ran to class. Literally.” You could tell from the way sections of his hair were standing up and how his white t-shirt was inside out, but you didn’t tell him that.

“If it’s okay with you, can you send me your notes later?” He asked, his eyes resembling that of boba. Mark let out an audible sigh of relief when you agreed and handed him your phone to type in his number. As soon as he gave it back to you, you sent him a message to make sure he typed it correctly and it was at that moment that Mark realized, after a whole month of sitting next to you and occasionally working together, he had yet to remember your name.

‘Hey, this is y/n. Still can’t believe you forgot your backpack’

The two of you fit together like puzzle pieces and you always did your work together at any given opportunity, finding that two heads are definitely better than one when it came to calculus. Sometimes working on projects together often led to you and Mark spending more time together and eventually leading both of your guys’ friends to speculate that you were dating, to which you insisted was not true.

Your friends seemed to understand and leave it be, though Mark’s friends were a whole different story. He was part of one of the newest frats on campus which had come to fame due to their good-looking members, not a single one of them falling even a hair short of having god-tier visuals. You recognized a few of them, having been to their frat house a couple of times to work on projects with Mark though most of them were older than you so it came as a surprise to you when you saw one of them in your beginner guitar class.

You didn’t know his name but he was easy to remember with his long black hair and his ever-changing fashion sense. Today, he resembled something out of a motorcycle magazine with his maroon leather jacket, black ripped jeans, and the bandana tied around his head.

You watched as he took a seat in the front of the room though you had enough sense to turn your attention back to the professor who had started class and was displaying a list of names with corresponding locker numbers that housed the guitar you’d be using.

Standing up with the rest of the class, you went to go find your own locker and let out a sigh of relief when you saw it was on the bottom row because that meant less effort to take it in and out rather than if you had one on the top row.

Right as you popped your lock open, a shadow was cast over you and you turned around to see Mark’s friend who was even more stunning up close. He flashed you a quick smile along with an apology as he moved to the side to give you more room and allow you to grab your guitar out from the locker.

You were just slightly irritated at the guy. People with good looks knew how to use them to their advantage and this man obviously knew what he was doing. Had he been sane, he could’ve just waited for you to get your stuff out before getting his own, but instead, he chose to tower over you as you were crouching down on the floor.

Your eyes followed his figure as he made his way back to his seat in the front of the room, sitting down in front of the professor and you rolled your eyes knowing that he’s going to have an ego as tall as a skyscraper.

Aside from your encounter with the nameless e-boy, your first class went pretty okay though you were already having a little trouble remembering which chords were which so you sent a text to Mark asking for tips. He responds a few minutes later with fingering charts and even offers to tutor you, which you gladly accept.

You and Mark had appointed Wednesday afternoons and Sunday mornings as your lesson times and the first time you visit him is on the former. It was February so the weather was still quite cold though it wasn’t cold enough to make you regret not wearing a thicker jacket.

Before you could even text Mark that you’re outside the frat house, the door opens and he pulls you in, visibly shivering due to only being in a t-shirt and basketball shorts. “Not so Canadian are you, huh?” You joke at him, seeing the once thick-skinned boy now struggling to warm himself up as he practically ran up the stairs to his room.

You followed him up, greeting his roommate, Taeil, when you passed him in the hallway. Taeil was the oldest member of the frat and was set to graduate at the end of the semester. He had you absolutely fooled when you first met him. His personality reminded you of a golden meadow or a sunny beach but he was a total animal when it came to parties though Mark had told you that you’ve only seen the tip of the iceberg.

Having seen Taeil out in the hallway, you thought you and Mark would be the only ones in the room so you weren’t expecting to see the same guy from guitar class lying around on Mark’s bed. “Yuta, this is y/n, y/n meet Yuta.”

Yuta gave you that same smile you saw on the first day of class as he told Mark, “oh, I know her, she’s in my guitar class.”

“Dude, that’s so cool. You guys can work together on projects and the playing tests then. Man, that course would’ve been way more fun if I could play with someone I knew.” You shot Mark an awkward smile as if telling him to move on because you highly doubted that you’d ever want to work with Yuta, especially if his ego was as big as you thought it was. He’d call you out left and right for even the tiniest mistakes and you didn’t want to put yourself through that.

Mark cleared his throat while grabbing his guitar and handing it to you, and Taeil’s guitar to Yuta. “Yeah so, uh, anyway, I thought it would be better to teach you guys at the same time since you both are at the same level if that’s okay with you.” Mark’s question was obviously aimed towards you however Yuta answered first without any hesitation.

“Works for me.” Yuta looked over to you, strands of his white locks falling in front of his eyes though it didn’t dampen the intensity of his gaze in the slightest.

You didn’t exactly like the idea of playing with an audience, even if it was just Yuta. But if he was a beginner like you, then theoretically the playing field should be even. It was only because of this did you nod your head, telling Mark, “sure.”

Your first lesson with Mark consisted of his retaught both you and Yuta the fundamentals and basic chords you had already learned, making sure that your hands and fingers were placed the right way. Yuta, who was having a harder time than you, let out an exasperated sigh as he leaned back against the wall next to Mark’s bed while he ripped open a bag of gummy bears. “Whoever gets the fingerings right first gets a gummy bear.”

“Okay, bet.” Not really one for competition, you wanted to refuse his proposal, but this guy was really getting on your nerves. It was as if he had no interest yet all the passion in the world. And that’s aside from the fact that you simply wanted to continue showing him up and proving that you weren’t such a pushover and he can’t simply bend you to his will.

The three of you became so wrapped up in the competition that you didn’t even notice that you were supposed to leave to get to your last class of the day, which was now starting in five minutes. When you glanced over at the clock on Mark’s desk, you practically jumped out of your seat, “holy shit, I’m gonna be late to class.”

“I can drive you if you want.” Yuta offered.

“No, it’s okay, I’ll be fine.” You weren’t exactly lying but you weren’t entirely telling the truth as you declined him. It was an eight-minute walk away but you could probably make it in six if you did your Black Friday walk and surely your professor wouldn’t mind if you were just a minute late.

Mark helped you gather your belongings and held his door open for you. “Alright, see you y/n. I’ll set an alarm next time so we don’t forget.” He said with a slight laugh in his voice.

As you stepped out of the frat house, you just couldn’t stop your mind from wandering back to Yuta. He barely even knew you yet he had offered to drive you to class, even though your campus wasn’t particularly large. There was something about that man that made you want to run for your life but also just stop and stare at him all day.

The second time you had a lesson with Mark is on a Sunday morning and you’re pleasantly surprised to see that Yuta is nowhere to be found as you set foot into Mark’s room. After placing your bag down next to Mark’s desk, you pick up Taeil’s guitar and join him on his bed while he quietly plays a song to himself.

“Yuta’s still knocked out from the party we had yesterday so I doubt he’ll be joining us.” Mark informed you, and his statement rang true as Yuta did not come in during all of the three hours you spent next to Mark, much to your relief. Instead, Taeil had come in, looking terribly hungover.

“Hey, what’s up man.” Is all Taeil got to say before rolling into his bed, putting in a single Airpod before falling asleep, much to both you and Mark’s amusement.

Mark had tried to teach you basic chord sequences and strumming patterns but your brain just wasn’t having it. He kept giggling at seeing you frustrated and you had to repeatedly tell him to shut up in fear of waking Taeil so eventually both of you decided to call it a day as you put the guitars back on their stands.

You got back onto the bed next to Mark as both of you played on your phones for a bit before he turned his off and turned to talk to you. “Hey, y/n, so the guys are throwing this party next week Saturday and I was wondering if you’d want to come.”

“Next Saturday...Valentine’s Day?” You ask as you check your calendar on your phone.

“Yeah. You don’t have to though if you already have other plans.” Mark blurted out.

You laughed at the thought of actually going on a date on Valentine’s Day. “Didn’t have any plans besides ordering take-out and watching Netflix.”

Mark laughed along with you. “So is that a yes?”

“Sure.”

“Do you wanna sleepover too since you’re gonna be here on Sunday morning anyway?” You raised an eyebrow at Mark, wondering if he was actually serious.

“Sounds convenient but then where are you gonna sleep?” You countered.

“Uh, in Taeil’s bed.” Mark said, the gears in his head almost visibly turning.

“And where is he going to sleep?” You ask, not wanting to cause the kind senior any extra stress from having to deal with Mark as a roommate on top of his impending graduation.

Mark reached up and scratched the back of his head. “I don’t know, probably somewhere on the floor downstairs.” Your eyes grew wide at his statement. “Okay wait, before you yell at me, Taeil always gets too hammered to make it back up to the room until like, Sunday afternoon as you clearly just saw.” He explained, gesturing to his sleeping body on the other side of the room.

“Okay, then. But if he gets mad, it’s your fault, your idea, not mine.”

By the time Valentine’s Day came around, you were more than ready for it to end, having been annoyed by all the lovey-dovey advertisement and the couples posting on Instagram and holding hands and kissing wherever you went. You had always heard that love finds its way to those who are least expecting it, which is why you gave up the thought of ever pining over a guy who was likely to reject you anyway. Though, sure enough, love really did find a way of messing with your life in more than one way.

When you arrived at the party, you had first gone up to Mark’s room to drop off your bag that held your change of clothes and personal hygiene supplies. You don’t know what you were expecting to see when you entered his room, but you certainly weren’t expecting to see Mark’s bare ass while he was fucking into a girl in his bed, the same bed you were supposed to sleep in at the end of the night. “Oh, shit, fuck, sorry y/n, can you just uh, come back in a bit-”

You were pretty sure you were just as embarrassed as Mark, shouting “alright, have fun dude” as you closed the door. You turned around to search for somewhere else to go, pondering on the idea of just going back to your dorm after the party and walked right into Taeil.

“Should I not go in there?” He asked, having seen the way you backed out of the room and closed the door.

“Not unless you wanna see Mark’s butt.”

“Eh, I see it from time to time, can’t be any worse than usual.”

“Taeil, no” you exclaim, grabbing onto his arm and pulling him away before he could open the door.

“Oh, you mean to see his butt while he’s doing that kind of thing, I get it now.” He said with a playful glint in his eyes. “Were you planning on sleeping over?” He asked, having noticed the duffel bag hanging from your shoulder.

You let out a sigh before answering. “Yeah, I was gonna sleep in Mark’s bed and he was gonna sleep in yours since he said you apparently get too fucked up to make it back to the room.” At which Taeil laughs as he nodded his head, acknowledging the statement.

“He’s certainly not wrong,” Taeil confirmed, “did you want to put that down somewhere? I can let you keep it in our lounge room during the party. It’s a members-only room so you can just ask one of the guys to open it for you later in case I’m already out.”

You can’t help but giggle at Taeil’s joke as you accept his offer, following him down the hallway to a door where he punches in some numbers onto a keypad before opening it. Your jaw dropped when you looked inside, being met with a huge U-shaped couch facing the back wall where a large TV was mounted. “What do you guys even do in here?”

“Usually just gaming, sometimes watching big sports matches. Just normal guys stuff. We agreed to no sex, drugs, or alcohol in here so it’s like a safe room of sorts I guess.” Taeil explained to you.

“Huh, didn’t think you guys would have something like this.” You told him as you placed your duffle bag against the wall near the door.

“Frat life isn’t just all about getting high and drunk you know, y/n,” he said, playfully scoffing at you, “but speaking of, would you like to get a drink downstairs?” You nod your head before walking alongside Taeil as he places an arm around your shoulders, guiding you down to the party.

As you pass by Mark’s room along the way to the stairs, both you and Taeil share a laugh as you could hear the faint noises of sex through the door, though you really just wanted to erase the image of Mark’s ass from your head. Taeil seems to understand this much as he takes you to the kitchen and tells Doyoung, the frat’s resident entrepreneur with a side hobby for mixology, to get you something strong.

You’ve met Doyoung a couple of times, though you only exchanged short greetings since you were always doing something with Mark. “Where’s your boyfriend?” He inquired.

“Who?”

“Mark.”

“Oh, we’re not dating. He’s in his room though.”

“Sure seems like you’re dating. Why isn’t he here with you?”

Taeil responds, saving you from having to explain to Doyoung. “He’s getting lucky with some other girl.”

Doyoung’s eyes go wide as he responds, “that’s a first for him.”

You were about to ask what he meant by that but you’re interrupted by loud yells coming from the living room, causing you to turn around and see what was going on. You spot Yuta standing up on the makeshift DJ booth in the corner of the room with Johnny, who you recognized as your TA in your English class, as he grabbed the microphone and shouted “let’s get fucking drunk” before Johnny could manage to yank it out of his grasp and turn it off.

“What’s with that guy?” You mumble to yourself, not really expecting Doyoung to overhear you.

“Oh, Yuta? He’s just like that sometimes.” Doyoung states, shrugging his shoulders as he wiped the kitchen counter with a towel. “He’s that one friend who does really questionable things but you can’t get rid of them because deep down they’re actually pretty nice.”

You raised an eyebrow at him. “You think he’s nice?”

“He is once you get to know him.”

You look at Taeil for reaffirmation only to find that said man is long gone, the only evidence of him ever being there is his yellow phone left lying on the counter next to Doyoung’s own drink. “I’ve gotten to know him and I wouldn’t say he’s nice, per se.”

Doyoung shakes his head at you, “you just haven’t cracked him open yet.”

“Why do you talk as if he’s an egg or something?” You joke laughing to yourself and watching as Doyoung fights back a smile.

“He is, in a sense. He’s got a tougher exterior along with his own inner issues that come tumbling out once he trusts you.”

“Like?”

Doyoung hums in thought before speaking. “I’m not gonna say too much because it’s his life and his own story to tell, but let me just ask you this one question. Don’t you ever wonder why he constantly sleeps around with girls yet never gets into a relationship with any of them?”

You ponder on the question before asking one back. “So are the rumors true?” Yuta’s reputation did precede him and you had, in fact, heard from other girls who had their own stories and adventures with Yuta but you didn’t necessarily believe them completely, not wanting to assume anything about Yuta.

“Some, not all...but yes, most of the ones I have heard were true, but maybe that’s just because people know I live with him so there’s no sense in trying to lie around me.” Doyoung responds to which you nod your head, acknowledging the accuracy behind his statement.

Three shots later of whatever Doyoung was making you, you were already starting to feel hot and lightheaded so you went back upstairs, as per Doyoung’s advice, and made your way to Mark’s room hoping he’d be done by now. You cracked his door open and peeked around it, grumbling to yourself as you saw your best friend and the same girl from earlier wrapped up in his blanket. You weren’t too sure where you were going to sleep tonight and you weren’t too keen on walking back to your dorm this late at night, especially when you were already starting to feel tipsy.

Closing the door quietly, not wanting to disturb the two people inside, you step away from the room, only to run into someone behind you. You spun around, ready to apologize until you realized who it was. Yuta, a quite drunk Yuta too.

“Taeil told me Mark got lucky-” he stopped to hiccup, “but I didn’t fully believe it so I came to-” he hiccuped again, “see for myself, but I think your action speak-” he reached up to briefly rub his eyes, “louder than words” he finished, letting out a yawn at the end. “Need somewhere to stay?”

“How did you know I was sleeping over?” You ask, wary of the man and his intentions.

He waves his hands as if dismissing your preconceived notions. “Taeil told me that too. Makes sense anyway since you’re here on Sunday’s as well.”

You sighed, not wanting to let yourself give in to Yuta yet again and give him another thing to hold over you, but it wasn’t as if you had many other options. “Taeil let me leave my bag in the lounge, can you unlock the door for me? I think I’ll just ask Doyoung to drive me back to my dorm or something.”

Yuta hummed as he grabbed your wrist and led you down the hallway to the lounge. He unlocked the door for you and held it open, but once both of you were inside, he closed the door behind him and turned on the mood lighting and watched as the room began to glow purple.

You picked up your bag as Yuta threw himself over the backrest of the sofa and tumbled onto the cushions. “Has anyone ever told you that you’re beautiful?”

“Well, yeah?” You stuttered, taken aback by his sudden comment.

“Damn, I wanted to be the first.”

“Okay?” You said, questioning his antics as Doyoung’s words floated through your head about Yuta and his trysts with girls, not wanting to become another victim.

As if Yuta could hear you thinking, he sat up and peered over the couch just enough to make eye contact with you, his eyes mischievously shining in the low lighting. “Were you gonna sleep with Mark?” He asked, raising his eyebrow suggestively.

“What? No,” you exclaim, “he’s my best friend, I would never do that.”

“Not like that you sicko,” Yuta said as he chuckled at your flustered state.

“Oh,” realization dawning upon you, “uh, yeah, I was planning to just sleep in his bed and he was gonna take Taeil’s but now I’m pretty sure that’s not happening tonight.”

“You can stay in my room if you want.” Now it was your turn to raise a suggestive eyebrow at him. “No, it’s not what you’re thinking. My roommate is away in China so his side is open. You can sleep in my bed if you’re not comfortable being in a stranger’s bed.” You were surprised he made it through such a long statement without any hiccups.

“Uh, thanks, I guess I’ll take you up on that offer.” You say, finally unrooting yourself from the floor and making your way towards the door.

Yuta begins haphazardly pulling himself over the back of the couch seeing as how you were ready to leave the room. “I’ll show you to the bathroom.” He would’ve face planted straight into the floor if it weren’t for you standing right in his path of destruction, barely catching him before he nearly sent both of you to the ground. “Sorry” he giggled as he regained his balance and pushed open the door.

You couldn’t mistake the way his body felt against yours, how warm and comforting it was. He smelled nice too, which was odd for someone who partied like an animal and lived with god knows how many other guys. You shook yourself out of your thoughts and grabbed your bag, following Yuta out of the lounge.

He led you to the bathroom and instructed you on how to use the shower and lock the door before telling you how to get to his room once you were done. The bathroom was surprisingly neat but you were sure it was thanks to Doyoung and Taeyong, the only two people you thought had their heads on straight in this house. Even if you had only briefly met both of them, it was enough to let you know that those men were the reason why the house somehow looked presentable within just a few hours after a raging party.

You showered quickly, the effect of Doyoung’s drinks really hitting you now, making you want to just pass out. Once you were done showering you threw on one of Mark’s shirts that you had previously stolen, intending on giving it back to him tonight, but you weren’t comfortable wearing your normal beat up sleepwear in front of Yuta, so you opted to wear Mark’s shirt instead.

Not quite wanting to have another incident like the one you had earlier with Mark, you knocked on Yuta’s door just to be safe. You heard him laugh from the inside as he called out “it’s unlocked, just come in.” As you let yourself in, he got off his bed telling you “I’m going to shower now. Just make yourself comfortable in whichever bed you want. I’ll sleep in whatever one you don’t choose.”

After he left the room, you looked between the two beds. One was neatly made and had pictures strung up on the wall next to it, the blankets and sheets folded nicely and placed alongside a few pillows near the foot of the bed. The other, which Yuta had just rolled out of, had wrinkled sheets with the blanket half falling off the bed, not a single pillow within a whole six-foot radius of his bed.

You didn’t really want to mess up the organization of whoever his roommate was, so instead, you just took one of the pillows and plopped it onto Yuta’s bed as you grabbed the blanket from the floor and pulled it over your head, allowing his scent to flood your nose. Just as you were about to drift into sleep, you heard the door open and close followed by rapid footsteps coming your way.

Before you even had time to react, Yuta was flinging himself on top of you and laughing as you gasped for air under his weight. “Somebody looks comfortable.” He teased as you continued squirming, trying to push him off you.

You wouldn’t take him to be a clingy drunk after seeing how rowdy he was during the party, but you suppose this is the side of him that managed to charm so many other girls into thinking they’d be that one lucky girl to finally win over Nakamoto Yuta’s heart. “Get off of me.” You uttered forcefully as you tried to make him move over and relieve the pressure on your chest and stomach.

“You silly, this is my bed” he cooed, letting another round of giggles leave his lips before rolling off you towards the wall, leaving you on the outside of the bed. He threw the blanket over himself, humming as he felt the warmth of it, that you had made, on his freshly showered skin.

Yuta kept his distance as he laid on his back with his eyes closed, his hands reaching up to ruffle his damp hair, speaking of which, “you know people say you can get sick if you go to sleep with damp hair?” You asked him quizzically.

“Yeah, but I’ve never gotten sick from it so I don’t really care.” He said dismissively.

A few moments passed before either one of you spoke again. “Didn’t you say that you were going to sleep in the other bed?” You questioned, remembering your conversation from not too long ago.

“Yeah, but I’m too lazy to unfold everything and put it back in the morning so here I am.” Yuta beamed, smiling over at you. You rolled your eyes at him, scoffing as he continued playing with his hair, making it stick up in different directions. “I can sleep somewhere else if you’re not comfortable with me being here.”

You wanted to say ‘yes, please move’ but you didn’t have enough strength in you to tell him to get out, not when you enjoyed his presence next to you so instead you simply told him “it’s fine” before tugging over more of his blanket and turning to face away from him.

He let out a whine as now half of his body was uncovered and exposed to the cold winter air and he yanked his blanket back, inadvertently pulling you with it, causing you to face him with your forehead nearly resting against his chest. “Why are you hogging my blanket?” Yuta whined.

“I’m not hogging it, you just keep trying to take more than your fair share of it.” You fired back at him.

“This is my room and my blanket.”

“You’re the one who offered to let me stay here, and might I add, you said you were going to sleep in the bed that I didn’t choose.”

“I can always retract my offer, you know.” You shook your head, the idea of asking Doyoung to drive you back to your dorm at 3am wasn’t exactly appealing to you. “Okay then come closer so we can actually share the blanket instead of leaving one of us to freeze.”

You let out a huff and scooted closer to Yuta. “Are you happy now?” Yuta let out a hum as he smiled down at you, the corners of his eyes crinkling underneath the strands of bleached white hair that had fallen in front of his face.

Closing your eyes again, you tried to fall asleep, hoping that you wouldn’t have any further interruptions from Yuta, but you couldn’t seem to fully relax with the main light of the room still on. “Yuta can you turn off the light?” He looked over you, clearly unhappy. “Please?”

“You’re closer.”

“God, why are you so difficult.” You remarked as you slid out from under the blanket, walking over to flip the light switch.

“I’m not difficult, you’re difficult.” He fired at you as the room became dark, illuminated only from the light of the moon. “You’re always so uptight and on edge about getting to class on time and being prepared.”

“Because that’s what a good student does, and unlike you, I actually want to graduate from college in four years.” You spit back as you rolled back into the bed next to him.

“Hey, not everyone graduates within four years, some of us just have a different path in life. And what makes you think that I’m not trying to graduate soon?”

“Your attitude and your seemingly nonexistent care to even make it to class on time.”

“That doesn’t mean I don’t do my work though.”

“But you totally miss the instructions that the professors give at the beginning of class.”

“It’s not hard to figure things out when you’ve got a brain as big as mine.”

“You’re so annoying, just let me sleep.” You grumbled as you moved closer to him, wanting more of the blanket.

Silence falls upon both of you again but you let out a huff when Yuta starts talking again. He sure was annoying as hell when he was drunk. “Do you have feelings for Mark, or like, any other guys...like at all?”

You stared up at him, praying he’d feel the daggers coming from your eyes, “no.”

“Good, I was hoping you didn’t so I could do this.”

“Do wha-”

You hadn’t even finished your sentence before Yuta tilted your chin up and brought his lips to yours, eagerly molding his to fit the shape of yours.

You didn’t know what you were thinking when you started to kiss him back, in fact, you probably weren’t thinking at all. Yuta took it as a green light and let the hand that was against your chin find its way to the back of your neck to pull you in closer. You didn’t realize your body had shifted until you were now completely pressed up against him. It soon became all too hot and suffocating, forcing you to pull away and break the kiss.

Your eyes met his and held his gaze as you came to your senses. “Yuta, I’m not here to have sex with you.”

“Wasn’t planning on it.” He replied almost nonchalantly.

You rolled your eyes at him, “no, I mean, like ever.”

“Okay. Who says I can’t just kiss a pretty girl because I want to?” He asked, the attitude in his voice was almost enough to make you want to slap him.

“I do?” You quipped. “I didn’t tell you that you could kiss me either-”

“Says the person who was definitely not kissing me back.” Yuta teased as he cocked an eyebrow at you, daring you to continue.

You flung the blanket off of you, not wanting to put up with any more of his antics. “Don’t use your fuckboy charms on me, I’m not here to become another one of your girls.”

“Y/n, wait, that’s not what I meant to do,” he whined, grabbing your wrist before you could fully get out of the bed, “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to come off that way and for your information, I am not attached any of the ‘girls’ you are alluding to.”

“You attached yourself to them the moment you put your dick inside them and gave them something to talk about.”

“That's not what I intended to do.”

“Then what is it that you intend to do, Yuta?”

He paused with his mouth slightly open and you took this moment to separate your wrist from his grasp before he spoke again. “I don’t try to ‘charm’ them or whatever you call it. I’m not even looking for a relationship, trust me.”

“And why should I trust you when you have girls practically throwing themselves at you?”

Yuta let out a groan as he flopped onto his back. “Look, I never wanted to be this blunt with you but I’m not looking for a relationship because the last one I was in ended with me getting cheated on.” He paused as if letting his words sink in. “I don’t want to fall in love again because I don’t want to risk going through that same pain another time. I’m scared to fall in love because what if it’s not reciprocated? Is that enough to make you believe me?”

You stare at him in shock, barely managing to stutter out “I’m sorry, I didn’t-”

“It’s fine, let’s just go to sleep, I said too much already.” He interrupted, wrapping his arm around your waist and pulling you back under the blanket. Once you were close enough for his liking, Yuta let go of you, retracting his arm back to his half of the bed though he stopped when he felt your hand on his forearm. He looked up at you with wide eyes as you pulled his arm back over you and allowed your forehead to rest against his chest.

Yuta stayed like that until you fell asleep, finding it hard to do the same. It took him awhile to find himself in the familiar lull due to his thoughts running rampant in his mind as his eyes traced over your features. If only you could read his mind, you’d know of the dilemma he realized he had wrapped himself into that he was too scared to admit on his own.

You woke up with a pounding headache, to say the least. Reaching up to massage your forehead, you tried to roll onto your back only to find that you weren’t able to. You jerked around, finding Yuta’s sleeping body as you remembered the events and conversations that took place just hours prior. You stilled as you took a moment to admire the way the golden rays of sun seeped in through the window, falling across his face and causing him to have an ethereal glow. He’d be quite attractive if it wasn’t for his attitude.

However, his face alone wasn’t enough to distract you from the fact that he was practically spooning you and you weren’t confident that you could get out without waking him though what really irked you was the fact that part of you didn’t want to leave from his warm embrace.

You stayed in his arms for a few minutes longer until your headache became unbearable and your throat was begging for something to drink. You tried your best to gently extract yourself from Yuta but much to your distaste, he woke up. He caused you even more displeasure when he pulled you back towards himself and whined “where are you going?”

“I’m thirsty and I have a headache.” You stated plainly, your voice void of energy.

Yuta whined once more before trying to reason with you. “But it’s cold, it’s cuddle weather.”

“I didn’t say that I wanted to cuddle with you.” You pointed out, at which Yuta finally forced his eyes open as he yawned and stretched before sighing.

“I’ll get you water and some ibuprofen if you stay for a little longer.”

“Fine, but that’s only because I don’t have anywhere else to go.” You were trying to convince him of this as much as you were trying to convince yourself of the statement while he gave you one of the brightest smiles you’ve seen from a full-time college student as he climbed over you and let himself out of the room.

You took this time as an opportunity to use the bathroom and peek into Mark’s room as you made your way back. You were surprised to see there was no one in the room and nearly jumped when an arm wrapped around your waist from the back. “Are we spying on Mark?” Yuta whispered into your ear.

Scoffing, you answer “he’s not even in there, you idiot.”

“Huh, I wonder where he went,” Yuta contemplated, “might as well grab the guitars while we’re here.” He handed you the glass of water and pills he was carrying as he walked into Mark’s room and picked up the two guitars from their stands.

“What are we supposed to do without Mark?”

“Practice? What else are we supposed to do?” The man in front of you asked rhetorically.

You shook your head at him, not liking the sound of his idea. “We won’t know if we’re doing anything right, we’re literally both beginners.”

“That doesn’t mean we can’t help each other.” Yuta countered.

“Ugh, whatever, you’re so irritating.” And with that, you down the pills and turn to walk back to his room.

Playing guitar with Yuta wasn’t actually all that terrible. He knew more than he let on during your shared sessions with Mark and he offered you some tips every so often as he led both of you through the chord progression sheet. The whole scene of it was quite surreal, the way you and Yuta were both simply clothed in plain t-shirts, hair still roused from sleep, the way the sun gently lit the room and warmed it up.

You were genuinely enjoying yourself and didn’t even notice when Mark came into the room. “You guys started without me?” He whined cutely.

Yuta looked at you and you gestured at him to respond. “Y/n went to go spy on you in your room but you weren’t there so we decided to steal the guitars and have fun on our own.” You shot Yuta a look, hoping he understood the ‘I will strangle you’ glare you were giving him.

“Wow y/n, why were you spying on me man?” Mark asked dejectedly.

“I was just checking to see if your girl was still with you because I didn’t want to barge in on anything, again.” You tease.

Mark groans and covers his face out of embarrassment. “Oh gosh, don’t remind me.”

“Wait, wait, you saw Mark naked?” Yuta questioned with his eyes wide. “He has a big butt doesn’t he?” He added, smirking, at which both you and Mark yell at him to shut up. “Just saying facts.” He claims, raising his hands up in defense.

“Anyways,” Mark said a little too aggressively, “are you guys doing okay on your own? Or did you want me to join?”

Again, Yuta turned to you for a response, though this time you really hated yourself for what you answered with. “No, I think we’re fine, thanks though.”

“Better go wash your sheets bro, you were wild last night.” Yuta called out as Mark left the room.

“Dude,” Mark exclaimed, “don’t ever say that again, please bro.” And just like that, I was only you and Yuta again.

“Speaking of parties,” Yuta began, “we’re thinking of holding another one in March before spring break. Wanna come?”

“I can’t believe you guys are already planning another one not even a whole day after getting drunk out of your mind.” You joke, the disbelief obvious in your expression.

“Hey, you have to let loose every once in a while,” he states, “but my offer still stands.”

You hum, faking getting lost in thought, “ask me again in a month and I’ll let you know.”

“I’ll take that as a yes,” you tilted your head to the side, the look on your face clearly ridiculing him, “for now.” He adds on.

You went back to looking over the chord progression sheet and tried again to go through the one you were on before Mark came in. You almost succeed this time until you place your fingers one fret away from where they were supposed to be. “Yikes” Yuta comments as he reaches out and shifts your hand over for you, causing you to stick your tongue out at him.

It seemed only reasonable that when the guys continued having parties every so often, that you were invited to every single one of them whether it be through Mark or Yuta, and the one time Johnny had hit you up not knowing your involvement with the frat already, or even when Taeil invited you though it was really because Mark needed help sorting out his relationship issues.

Everyone except you was surprised that Mark had found himself a girlfriend, especially one that wasn’t you. You were happy for him, even if it meant having to respond to his panicked texts at 2am asking what something meant in ‘girl language’ accompanied by numerous screenshots.

Mark often ended up leaving you and Yuta on your own on Sundays because that was the only day when both he and his girlfriend were free. You certainly didn’t mind spending more time with Yuta now that he stopped being such a cocky asshole all the time. Whatever absence Mark had left, Yuta was there to make up for it whether it be his lingering touches, shy kisses, and even the offering of his clothes to you when you accidentally ended up sleeping over again, though this time you voluntarily shared a bed with him.

Yuta was becoming a necessary presence in your life, though you didn’t mind. You didn’t mind it when he moved to sit next to you during class. You didn’t mind when he asked to work with you for the upcoming playing test. You didn’t mind when he found you during parties swept you away from the dance floor to take you elsewhere.

You especially didn’t mind when taking you elsewhere resulted in your current situation, your hands tangled in Yuta’s now orange-colored hair, as you lay under him while he kissed you breathless.

“You look so fucking hot, you had all of them staring at you.” Yuta growls out between kisses.

You bite his bottom lip, causing him to groan slightly. “Mmm, you like that though. You like it when I look like this.”

“Not when other men get to look at you the way I do.”

“And why is that?”

“Because you’re mine.”

The use of the word caused you to stop in your tracks, Yuta pulling back as your lips stopped moving against his. “What are we?” You ask him, your voice shaking.

“What do you mean?”

“Like, this relationship?” You say, gesturing between the two of you, “What is our relationship to each other?”

“We’re friends.”

“But are we just friends? Because I don’t think friends kiss each other like this.”

“They don’t, but that doesn’t mean we can’t.” Yuta interjected as he leaned in to reattach his lips to yours.

“No, Yuta, stop,” you declare, pulling away from him, “I told you I’m not someone you can just play around with. If you want to keep me as a friend, then that’s all we will be. No kissing, no flirting, none of that.”

“I’m not playing around with you-”

“Then why is it so hard for you to place a label on us?” You questioned him, unintentionally raising your voice ever so slightly.

He rolled off of you, throwing an arm up to cover his eyes as he let out a sigh of exasperation. “I...I don’t know.”

“We’re clearly more than just friends but if you’re not willing to commit to being something more, then I’ll leave it at that.”

“Y/n, I- fuck, I don’t know what I even want-”

“And that’s okay,” you interrupt, “I’ll just give you time to think then, but for now,” you pause as you stand up from his bed, “just friends.” And with that you let yourself out of his room and ventured back downstairs to the party without turning back, finding comfort in the common sight of Johnny manning the boards, Doyoung in the kitchen with the drinks, even down to Taeyong and Taeil drunkenly swaying with each other on the dance floor.

“Here, something sweet to get rid of that sour look on your face.” Doyoung joked as he slid a drink across the counter.

You let out a chuckle as you raised the glass to your lips. “That obvious huh?”

“It is when I know whose room you just came from and who you’ve been spending all your time with.” He was really too intelligent to be stuck with these idiots.

You could only sigh as you took a large swig of whatever it is Doyoung made for you, relishing in the burn it gave you as it went down your throat, wishing for the alcohol-induced pain to overtake the one in your mind caused by the one and only Nakamoto Yuta.

Needless to say, you and Yuta ended up changing songs for the playing test and performing alone. Yuta moved back to his previous seat in the front of the room, though you still felt the way his eyes practically pierced through you as you played your chosen song, which albeit, was on the easier side since you wanted to give yourself a break.

Unbeknownst to you, Yuta wished so badly to be the person you were singing about. “Can you focus on me? Baby can you focus on me?” You sang, and he mentally beat himself to the ground.

Yuta still wanted to give you the world more than anything but he didn’t trust himself to do so, not when he’s already hurt you more than he should have. He became so caught up in his thoughts that he didn’t even notice you finished playing until he heard the applause coming from your classmates.

You actually did end up going to their spring party, but it was due to a request made by Johnny as he told you about Mark’s current post-breakup state near the end of your English class together. “He’s pretty much been in his room all the time. Not like the normal kind where he just prefers to chill in his room, but like, the kind where he doesn’t even come down to eat with us and Taeil has to bring food up to him.”

“Did Mark say anything about the breakup? Like why or how it happened?” You questioned, not wanting to have to ask Mark himself in case it was still too sensitive a subject to talk about.

Johnny hummed in thought, cocking his head to the side. “He didn’t say much to me, but he told Taeil that she wasn’t looking for anything serious but he thought that she was.” Johnny paused to take a sip from the Starbucks cup on his desk. “In my opinion, he should’ve waited to get to know her instead of just fucking her and deciding to date her y’know? But, I mean, that’s on him, so as they say, not my problem.” He shrugged his shoulder before taking another sip of his drink.

“Literally who says that?” You joke, enjoying poking fun at the older guy.

Johnny turned to you, a mock look of offense plastered onto his face. “Y/n! You don’t know? The famous Johnny Suh says it all the time.” You rolled your eyes at him as you packed up your belongings, promising to be at the party later that night, not exactly fancying the thought of running into a certain someone at the party as well.

Mark’s fiery whirlwind of a romance had left him to become a mess of all sorts and you spent your time with him at the party in his bed, watching tik toks and animal video compilations to get his mind off of things. You felt a sense of relief as you heard one of his faint snores, realizing that he was asleep, allowing you to slip out of his room and head downstairs to grab a drink from Doyoung.

Right as you were about to head back up, you saw the all too familiar head of orange hair glowing under the dim lighting as he looked down across the party from the bottom of the staircase. He didn’t seem to notice you as you made your way towards him until a small “hey” left your lips.

His eyes darted over to your face, offering a simple nod of his head to you to acknowledge your presence. You stood next to him, leaning against the wall until you broke the silence “how have you been?”

“Fine. You?”

“Pretty good I guess.” You could tell he didn’t want to talk to you, but you didn’t want to leave him, just feeling so drawn to him. Finding comfort in his presence, you closed your eyes and let your head fall against the wall as you lost yourself in the music that Johnny had going.

“I’ll get going, this party isn’t as exciting as normal.” Yuta stated as he turned to go back upstairs. Starting up the stairs after him, wanting to check in on Mark again, but when Yuta heard you following him, he turned around and called out to you. ”Don’t follow me, you’ll end up in my arms.” You froze as he turned back around and continued his way up while you processed his words, allowing him to escape from you yet again.

You watched from an outsider's perspective and through the narratives of the other guys as over the next few days, Yuta replaced Mark as the resident vegetable. He fell into the same state Mark was previously in, said boy having slowly come back to his senses with your constant nurturing and care.

Party after party, Yuta was no longer down on the dance floor with one hand holding a red solo cup, another around the waist of a girl he had just met. You wanted so badly to speak to him, but whenever you spotted him off to the edges of the crowd, he’d disappear seconds later like he knew you were watching him. As much as it was nice to have Mark back and go back to your normal best friend activities, Yuta had lodged himself in your heart without you knowing it.

Countless parties more and it was already nearing the end of spring semester. Yuta had stopped showing up to class, appearing once or twice a week, at most. Even at parties, he no longer came out of his room, according to Taeil. You had been meaning to talk to Yuta for a while now, but with finals looming right around the corner and his ability to hole himself up in his room, it was nearly impossible to find the time and place for it.

You were sick of worrying about him and if he was eating and sleeping okay, often finding yourself wondering what he was currently doing while you were studying or eating your own meals. You hated how often he occupied your mind. You truly wanted to believe that you were different to him, that someday he’d come around ready to commit to something but you ridiculed yourself for thinking that you’d have enough power to change someone as stubborn as Yuta. Little did you know, you were more than capable of doing so.

You had just entered the last week before finals and your school was generous enough to allot students a two day period to study before finals started. Of course, the frats and sororities took it as a last-ditch opportunity to party before their seniors graduated. You attended the party thrown to celebrate the graduating Taeil, Johnny, and Taeyong, but you were there for a different reason.

Throwing a quick greeting to Doyoung in the kitchen as you entered, he offered you a drink, which you told him to save for later before storming up the stairs. You were tired of all the hours you spent thinking about Yuta. If he wasn’t going to do anything about this, then you were whether it ended your friendship with him or not. You were done thinking about all the what-ifs, you wanted a definitive answer and you wanted it now.

Stopping in front of Yuta’s door, having enough manners to think about knocking before entering, you raised your hand to knock. Though before you were able to, you heard the music coming from inside. It didn’t take a genius to recognize that it was his voice singing the words. You froze with your hand against the door as you continued to listen to him. “Oh, how I love you. I just feel so lost without you.”

You opened his door slowly, knowing fully well that he wouldn’t be able to hear you knock over the loud noise coming from the party and his own blue-toned song. Both of you stood there in shock as your eyes met. Yuta was sitting on his bed with Taeil’s guitar in his lap and a notebook laid open next to him while you stood in the middle of his doorway, hand still on the knob.

Oh, how you missed the sight of him, even when he was dressed as simply as he was right now with just a grey t-shirt and black shorts sporting the logo of his favorite soccer team. “Yuta, we need to talk” you blurted out, stopping yourself from ogling him any further.

“Alright.” He complied, closing the notebook as you sat at the foot of his bed.

You take in a deep breath before starting. “I’m pretty sure you know this already, but I like you,” pausing to regather yourself and push through the rest of the speech you practiced in your head, “I’ve spent a lot of time thinking about you recently and I just want to settle this whole thing once and for all.”

Yuta nodded while picking at his fingers which you could see were now raw from playing the guitar so much, making you wonder just how often he was on it. “I’ve been thinking about you too...a lot,” he said as he looked up at you, “and I think I have an answer for you.”

You plant your hand down next to you on his bed, resting your weight on it and letting your head loll to the side as you raise an eyebrow at him asking him to continue. “I like you too, and I know the way I’ve been acting doesn’t really show that but I’m just scared.”

“Of what?”

“Of getting hurt again.” Yuta said, letting his head rest in his hands.

“Yuta, you know I would never cheat on you.”

“That’s what she told me too, but people can be deceiving.”

“Look, I’m not her,” you pointed out to him, “and I’m telling you right now that I would not even think about cheating on you.”

“Yeah, well, things can change.” Yuta let out exasperatedly.

“So you should change with them. You’re not going to grow unless you accept those changes.”

He went silent for a bit before looking up at you. “Teach me how to accept them, then.”

“What do you mean by that?” You ask him, your eyes meeting his.

“Show me that you’re different. Prove to me that not all change is bad.”

You moved closer to him as he spoke, swinging a leg over his lap and straddling him. “I will.”

Yuta’s eyes fluttered shut and you felt as he shakily exhaled before he reopened his eyes. “Can I kiss you?”

You nodded, and this time it was your eyes that closed as Yuta connected his lips to yours. Within a few seconds, you felt his tongue brush against your bottom lip, asking for entrance, which you allowed and gave him a sense of dominance before letting your tongue dance with his while gently pushing him down onto the bed.

He whined as he broke the kiss and rolled both of you over, switching your positions, preferring to smother your body with his, making you giggle at his actions. “Thank you for asking this time.” You told him, referencing the first time he had kissed you.

“I was drunk, okay? I wasn’t thinking straight and I just wanted to kiss you so badly.” Yuta groaned, grinding his growing erection on your hip at the last part.

“Oh you wanna kiss me so bad huh?” You teased.

You could’ve sworn he let out a growl right then before responding “fuck yeah I do” and reconnecting your lips to his. After fighting your tongue yet again, he pulled away and slowly opened his now lust-filled eyes. “Are you sure you want this?”

“Yes,” you let out breathlessly, “I want it.”

“Who do you want?” He questioned as he slipped his hands under your shirt, gently kneading your breasts while kissing along your jaw and down your neck.

“You.”

“Baby, say my name.”

“Yuta, I want you.”

“Fuck, I love it when you say my name.” He said as he pulled his shirt off, throwing it down to the floor as you sat up and did the same.

The second your shirt was off, Yuta’s hands were already undoing the clasp of your bra, tossing it to the side as well before pushing you back down and running his hands over your breasts. His mouth latched onto one of your nipples as his hand played with the other.

You let out a whine as he pushed his erection against your clit, making you feel your own arousal that had started leaking out onto your underwear. Yuta glanced up at you, smirking, as he heard the sound you made. “Someone’s getting needy.” He kissed his way down your abdomen, sitting back once he reached the waistband of your pants, pulling them off along with your underwear.

He groaned as he took in all of your naked beauty, telling you “you’re so fucking hot” as he spread your legs and brought his face down to your folds and licking a long strip upwards. He repeated this motion a few times before you let out a frustrated moan at his teasing.

Yuta laughed at your desperation until your hand wove it’s way into his hair and pushed him closer to where you wanted him most. He seemed to get the message as he dove in, allowing you to get lost in the feeling of his tongue swirling around and pressing at your entrance.

You weren’t expecting it when you suddenly felt him pressing a finger into you, though you enjoyed the sensation of it and raised your hips to feel more, only to be met with Yuta’s free hand coming down on your stomach, holding you down. He waited for you to relax before inserting a second digit, then a third as he started to speed up and finger fuck you open.

He was reaching places inside of you that you had never reached before but you still wanted more. “Yuta,” you breathed out, “just fuck me already.”

“Well when you say it like that, there’s no way I can resist” he said, a sly smile creeping onto his face as he sat up, his erection bobbing as he tugged off his ripped jeans, freeing it from its confines.

“Condom” you tell him.

“Oh, you’re one of those girls,” he snickered, earning him a smack on the arm from you, “I’m just kidding, jeez, I don’t want to have to be responsible for a child just yet.” He defended as he reached over and stuck his hand into one of the drawers of his nightstand.

“I’m not risking getting pregnant when I can barely pay my tuition.” You quipped back at him.

“Fair enough.” Yuta remarked as he ripped open the package and rolled the condom over his already leaking cock.

He crawled over you, his elbows coming to rest next to either side of your head. “Are you sure you want this?” He asked as he lined himself up with your entrance.

“Are you sure want this?” You countered to him, both of you knowing fully well what you meant since once he went through with this, there was no turning back. Yuta was promising himself to you just as you had done to him.

You watched as his eyes found yours, “I want this, I want you, I want us.” With that he pushed himself into you, both of you letting out sinful moans as he bottomed out.

He barely gave you time to adjust before he started slowly rocking his hips as your legs wrapped around his waist, pulling him closer while your hands found their way into his brightly colored locks. Just as he began to accelerate his movements, thrusting harder and faster, his door swung open.

Mark walked in casually, “hey, Yuta have you seen Taeil’s- holy shit i’m so sorry” he exclaimed once he realized the situation.

Yuta didn’t even pause as he told Mark “it’s on the floor.”

If you weren’t struggling to hold back your lewd sounds in the presence of your best friend, you would’ve laughed at how Mark snatched up the guitar and bolted out of the room, muttering “guess we’re even now, y/n” as he shut the door.

You let out a whimper as Yuta hit your spot the second the door closed. “Fuck, right there.”

He pushed himself into you a few more times before suddenly rolling over, bringing you to straddle him. “Ride me” he commanded, one of his hands coming to rub your clit. You began bouncing on his lap and clenched around him, drawing a moan from him. “I won’t last long if you keep doing that.”

“Good, I'm not going to either.” You informed him, already feeling the knot in your stomach begging to be released.

Your thighs were starting to become sore though you didn’t want to stop. Yuta noticed your change of pace, bringing both his hands up to your hips as he began thrusting up into you. You let out a cry as he managed to brush against your most sensitive areas, causing an orgasm to wash over you.

His movements slowly only for a bit as he let you take control, riding out your high before firmly grasping your hips again and bouncing you on himself, relishing in the feeling of your tight walls fluttering around him.

Staying true to his word, Yuta came shortly after you, filling the condom with his cum. He continued to push himself up into you until it became too much and he pulled out with a hiss. Yuta gently you down on his bed before getting up to dispose of the condom in the trash bin next to his nightstand.

You welcomed him with open arms as he climbed back into bed, his own arms wrapping around your waist as he began pressing light kisses across your collarbone as he broke the silence. “So does this make us a thing?”

“Depends on what you mean by that.” You tell him, wanting him to clearly voice his thoughts.

“Are we official?” He clarified.

“Only if you want us to be.”

Yuta smiled up at you. “y/n, Yuta’s girl, I like the sound of that.” You leaned down to press a kiss to his lips before he spoke again. “That song was about you, by the way”

“I figured that much.” You stated as you pushed his hair out of his face.

He giggled as he told you “I wrote it after jacking off to the thought of you.”

“Okay, you didn’t have to tell me that.” He let out a full laugh this time as he rolled both of you onto your sides and brought his forehead to rest against yours.

“Gosh, as if you weren’t clingy enough before this.” You joke, playfully kissing his nose.

“I’m all yours now.” Yuta cooed, his arms pulling your still naked body impossibly closer to his.

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kaminobiwan · 4 years ago

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restraint

pairing: commander cody x reader

summary: you put Cody in his place. it just so happens to be in a chair. (or, more accurately titled ‘restrained’.)

warnings: a lil spicey, as all my tho(gh)ts about Cody are. sexual tension. the like.

a/n: dedicated to the sweetest person alive, @milliusprime. happy birthday, shay, I love you :-) loose sequel to repreive, though I changed the reader to gender neutral. perhaps a trilogy in the making? the subtext of sub!cody be strong in this one.

taglist | masterlist | more gender-neutral fics

The next moment you get alone with him takes place on Coruscant.

You’d seen and talked to him a couple of fleeting times while on Geonosis, gotten close enough to see clearly that he hadn’t been too badly injured from the fray at Point Rain — or the mess that had been General Unduli’s rescue mission, for which you had yet to thank him properly for his instrumental role in saving your beloved assigned-Jedi.

You honestly don’t know why you still have a flat on Coruscant, given that most of your time is spent on the Tranquility or various command centers throughout the Outer Rim, but it’s times like these when you’re thankful to have a semblance of home to come back to.

Although, Cody fulfills that feeling better than any apartment ever could.

Gree had made sport of your visible enthusiasm at clocking out, lazing expertly along your desk as you closed out the rest of your tabs on the fifth datapad you’d held that day. His shift had ended hours prior, orienting the newest shinies to fill the ranks that had been lost since last shore leave. You know it’s a bittersweet feeling for him, meeting the replacements for his fallen brothers, so you let him stay whenever he seeks the company of someone who doesn’t share the face of those he’s internally mourning.

Usually that consists of him bothering you with mindless factoids of the newest fauna he’s become fixated on, but today, he’d burdened you with oversharing explicit details of his most recent passion party.

You’re closer than most officers are with their clone commanders, always have been, but your relationship had only strengthened since you’d covered for him the last time the 41st had been on Coruscant. After a rowdy night at 79’s, he’d been AWOL right until the hour before the Corps were scheduled to ship out, and you’d run into him sneaking back into the barracks covered in the bites and scratches of what had looked to be from multiple species, looking all too pleased about it.

That, and the fact that he’d managed to find out your secret relationship with his ori’vod after finding a yellow-painted vambrace in your cot after a late night of gossiping in your quarters on the Venator.

It was to your endless misfortune that Gree was as smart as he was salacious.

Gree was a good secret-keeper, though, and in exchange for not exposing him as a red-blooded slut to your General, he’d sworn to not tell anyone that you were sleeping with the revered Marshal Commander of the 212th. A tit-for-tat arrangement, on top of your friendship forged in the midst of war-borne ridiculousness and erudite pastimes.

“You know,” He’d grinned at you as you’d shrugged on your coat over your officer’s uniform, “if you and Cody ever want to add a couple people into the mix, I’ve got plenty of suggestions.”

You’d laughed — really snorted at the prospect. It wasn’t that you and the commander weren’t looking for ways to spice up your relationship, but you doubted Cody would be open to sharing your bed with one of Gree’s wild and unruly conquests. Far from prude, Cody wasn’t opposed to less than intimate (or perhaps increasingly intimate) situations, but you knew he had a certain preference for such activities.

Your lover was a particular one.

(Of course, you didn’t exactly fit into that specific preference perfectly, but you also liked to consider yourself more than someone who merely shared the sheets with Cody. A permanent exception, of sorts.)

As you’d respectfully declined the offer, he’d roped you into a one-armed hug and a squeeze to your shoulder. You’d bid him goodbye with a pat to his middle, and discreetly pocketed the durasteel rings you’d snagged from his utility belt as you’d separated from his side to hail a speeder home.

You figured Gree could survive without his stun cuffs for the night. It was the least he owed you after dumping images and stories about his sexual escapades you would never unhear.

‘Home’ is only a ways away from the GAR central headquarters, a short ride to the Residential district, and you’re stepping lighter and quicker than usual as you cross the steps to your entrance as the last rays of the sun tickle your exposed skin.

Not two seconds after opening the door, you look up with a start at the sound of muffled crunching by the sink, and surprise morphs into warmth when you realize it’s Cody, slurping quietly from the bowl he always seems to favor whenever he’s over. He shovels another mouthful in as you look on with barely disguised amusement, bantha milk dripping comically from the corner of his mouth. He’d beaten you here.

The initial stupor fades as you share a laugh, forgoing a greeting in favor of a well-placed jab. “So, not only did you stop by Dex’s and not get me anything, but you’ve perused my groceries as well?” He tries and fails to hide his smile behind his spoon, and you get in another verbal poke before he swallows. “Everyone knows Dantooine cereal is served dried for a reason.”

“I prefer it this way,” he mumbles, staring pleasantly at his evening snack. You know as much — Cody’s secretly a picky eater.

You tuck your coat into the fold of your arm before striding forward, wrapping the other one around his neck to pull him down for a sweet and milky kiss. He murmurs something unintelligible against you before reconnecting your mouths, and you hum contentedly as he balances the bowl to better curve downwards. “Hello,” you trill, tongue darting out to clean his lips. “You shower yet?”

He shakes his head, taking a moment to peer unreservedly at your face. His own brightens at your happiness to see him, and your chest swells at the sight. Unlatching from him quickly, you set your things on the table, making sure to slide them inconspicuously out of Cody’s reach. “Was waiting for you,” he rumbles as he kisses your palm.

Good. A thrum of satisfaction vibrates low in your gut as you hum, plastering a front of nonchalance across your features as he revels in the rare opportunity to drink you in. It’s hardly ingenuine, as his presence never fails to wash away the majority of your worries whenever you’re close. Even in the company of other people, which he sometimes seems to be physically allergic to.

You pat his cheek affectionately and watch him lean into your touch. “You tired?” As you inquire again, you reach for his bowl, holding back a retort when he maneuvers it out of your way. You continue speaking to his back as he turns and washes his own dish, always insistent on cleaning up his own messes. “You wanna sit down?”

He makes a noncommittal sound, but sits anyways after he cleans and dries, and you flock to his lap, presence adoring as it relieves him of any remaining stress of the day. You massage his shoulders without prompting, and he gazes up at you sincerely in thanks.

“Should I be asking how you managed to get a breakfast order from the diner at almost dinnertime?” You melt into his hold as his hands wander your back, uncharacteristically free from his combat gloves and armour. He’s down to his blacks, you realize, and a smile crosses your face at how perfectly the situation is falling into place. “Or is that classified information?”

He chuckles lowly, indulging in your lighthearted ridicules with prepotent comebacks of his own. “Maybe Dex just likes me,” he says, an intentional taunt to his voice. “Hermione always lets me order whatever I want.”

At the mention of Dex’s waitress, you bristle slightly, but respond cooly when he raises a challenging brow at you. He doesn’t usually make such insinuations, but it inspires a prickling jealousy despite. You watch the corners of his mouth quirk up when you reply. “Bet there’s a couple things she can’t give you.”

Cody simpers, far too smugly for your liking. “Maybe.”

You kiss him then, deliberate and vigorous, and he lets you, face angling to yours in an instant. He pushes up from the chair, stretching his torso to meet your touch robustly, and you fight off the daze that threatens to consume you after mere instants of his lips under yours. Lifting one eye open, you reach across the table for your coat pocket the same time you push your tongue into Cody’s mouth.

His grip tightens around your waist as you find what you’re looking for, and while he’s distracted by a few more gratuitous moments of clacking of teeth and brushing of tongues, you capture both of his wrists swiftly and secure them to the middle rung of the chair with a distinct snap.

You detach your from Cody as his eyes shoot open, claps holding tight as he wriggles his arms behind the back of his seat. You hold in a snicker at his expression, though by the ease of which you’d distracted him, you almost wonder if he’d purposefully let you lock him there.

“Binders?”

“Stun cuffs,” you correct, only for the hundredth time. It was an ongoing argument between the two of you.

Cody rolls his eyes as per usual, so far that for a second, you only see the whites of his eyes before he fixes you with a flat stare. “Only COMMOs call them that,” he chides, managing to still sound authoritative even while cuffed beneath you. “I’ve told you this.”

“Yes, well, you’ve told me a lot of things.” You mimic his actions with a snarky look of your own. “I don’t always agree.”

As you shift in his lap, his eyes flash noticeably. The air thickens again in a second, and you feel your hands tighten around his thighs as he flexes the wide, corded appendage below you. You can tell he’s slowly relaxing into the seat, body loosening as he breathes deeper against your chest, but his last grasp at control doesn’t surprise you. Cody always seems to need to feel like every decision is his own, even when he’s backed into a corner — or in this case, strapped to a chair.

The words send sparks down your spine, nevertheless.

“I like it when you listen.”

A smile spreads slowly across your face, and you lean closer to him, making sure to drag your hips torturously along his crotch before letting the tips of your noses bump briefly. The action draws a near-silent grunt from the man underneath you, and your lips trail lightly along his as he squirms. After tracing a full circle around his mouth with your own, you deprive him of a kiss as he cranes his neck upwards to reach you. Roguishly, your smile spreads slowly into a smirk. “And I like it when you beg.” The sharp intake of breath that comes from him fills you with much more triumph than you let on. “Am I gonna get that, tonight?”

Cody swallows audibly as his honey-glazed gaze flits back and forth between your eyes. He begins to nod, the last shreds of his resistance falling away to the quickly growing lust warming his skin, but you shake your head in disapproval. “I need to know, Cody.” Your arms stretch behind him to tap the cuffs around his wrists, and you feel his fingers extend to grab for you. They fail, for the most part, but he settles on running his thumb along the back of your hand as he stares at you earnestly. “Is this okay?”

It’s a long time before he speaks, but with difficulty, he manages an affirmation. “Yes,” he whispers, almost inaudibly. “I want it.”

You almost shriek with glee.

Instead, you opt for a restrained grin as you smooth your palms across the width of his shoulders, his admission igniting a heat in your blood that pulses with every second you caress his broad chest. Like a flame creeping towards gasoline, it grows steadily at the prospect of testing the composure of the most patient soldier you’ve had the pleasure of laying eyes — and lips — on.

Because Cody doesn’t come to you for patience. He comes to you for reprieve.

The racy desire rises faster within you the lower your fingertips dance along his body, catching on the thin fabric of his bodysleeve, and the clothing is thin enough that you can feel his abdomen tighten and constrict as you spread your hands over the plane of muscle. Almost cruelly, you sweep your palms back up, thumbing lightly over his nipples before stopping at his arms, squeezing lightly around his biceps, and Cody twitches in response. It’s then that you decide, with little remorse, that yes, you’re going to play with him today.

“Don’t worry,” you whisper, lips gentle along the shell of his ear as you press your body to his. “I didn’t have time to snatch the stun remote.” You nip playfully at his lobe. “Unless you want me to, next time.”

You don’t give him a chance to respond before you descend to his bared neck, skimming your mouth along his pulse point and lightly sucking. You graze his skin occasionally with your teeth, mild lovebites blossoming blue and purple along the dark brown, and Cody releases his first groan of the night as you purse your lips against the base of his throat. Too late, he realizes you’re teasing, and he yanks at his binds as you pull the neckline of his blacks far down enough to mark the juncture of his neck and shoulder, leaving a line of hickeys you know no one else will see but you.

Your fingers spider along his torso, daintily prodding and pinching, and each touch draws a huff or a jump from an increasingly frustrated Cody as they drift across scars and muscle alike. His abs contract deliciously when you ghost below his waistline, but before he can buck his hips for more, your hands are already on his collarbone, barely scratching as you mouth at the spot behind his ear.

When you move along the sharp line of his jaw, pointedly avoiding his puffed out lips, he breaks slightly, voice croaking out a half-baked request. “Please,” he rasps, sounding more desperate than you’ve heard him before, “let me kiss you.”

You don’t cease in your mission to drive him to near-insanity, stringing the beads of sweat that have started to collect on his forehead together with your tongue. Mirth bubbles within you at his plea, though, and you’re surprised at how patronizing your voice comes out in return. “You mean let me kiss you,” you chastise him, mindlessly noting how lovely he looks when he’s at your mercy. He shudders at your admonishment, and you lick your lips at his reaction.

“Yeah. Kiss me.” He says simply. “Please,” he repeats, when you tilt your head loftily.

As you linger above him, taking his bottom lip under your thumb, he slips his tongue hesitantly along the pad of your finger, eyes imploring and utterly helpless. The sight is intoxicating, and you take a mental picture while waiting for your brain to catch up with your body as he mutters a third please.

Your cheeks expand with delight as an answer occurs to you, his favorite phrase coming flawlessly to mind, and you beam at his waiting form as he fidgets impatiently under you. You lower your mouth to his, not quite a kiss — more a dusting of a touch as he strains to press closer. Pushing down with both hands, you breathe against his lips. “Be good for me, won’t you?”

He whimpers.

#rini writes #commander cody x reader #cody x reader #gender neutral reader #gender neutral #mmmm yes him #hot #played around w his personality here #just wanted to sit HIS ass down after i wrote reprieve #also that gif makes me soo mad why is he so LIGHT bruhh 💀#anyways i hope y'all enjoy #happy birthday shay :-)

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ah-ga-seven · 4 years ago

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Till’ The End Of Summer - Chapter 10

>> series masterlist <<

Pairing: Choi Yeonjun x Reader

In a Nutshell: College!AU, Rich Kids, Friends to Lovers, Fuckboy athlete Yeonjun, Overprotective Best friend Soobin, contains all of TXT and other Idol cameos, Omnipresent perspective.

Synopsis: You and Yeonjun are caught up in a cat and mouse game because of unspoken feelings and endless pining for each others’ attention. With the summer break approaching and lots of college parties, will you finally get a chance to explore your feelings for each other; even though the world and Yeonjun’s reputation makes things complicated?

Word count: 6.8K

Genre: Angst, Fluff

Warnings: Mentions of death, alcohol consumption and depression.

6 weeks had passed since the funeral and Yeonjun has been completely immersed in Choi Enterprises. With the help of other higher-ups and meeting after meeting, he had become quite the little businessman. The major stockholders seemed to love everything about him. They loved his youthful point of view, his energy, and his potential. The way he carried himself and charmed the people around him made them fall for him, just like everyone did at college. It was Yeonjun’s superpower. It’s like he was born with suave, but he never imagined using that charm against middle-aged men in clean-cut suits.

To his disappointment, he still wasn’t a single step closer in figuring out why his dad didn’t trust his mother with the company. He had been trying his best to keep up with past business affairs, making sure to listen in and attend meetings whenever he could but it was to no avail.

Everything seemed normal and boring, though he managed to stick around and keep up, it’s not like he enjoyed the job. However, it did distract him from the grief he didn’t allow himself to feel.

It was 11 PM and Yeonjun was seated at his fathers’ old desk. Scanning through document after document about the company he once had no knowledge of. It’s like his dad took every company secret to his grave. There was nothing fishy to be found and Yeonjun was getting tired of trying to prove a point that apparently didn’t even exist.

A soft knock on the door broke his trance, as he looked up, he saw his mother in the doorway, looking at him with concerned eyes.

“Yeonjun, you’ve been in here all day for the past week. What are you looking for?”

“Nothing,” he says, averting his attention back on the pile of papers in front of him, trying to organize the mess he made before leaving his dad's former home office.

He rubbed his temples, forgetting the presence of his mother until she closed the door behind her, and sat on the opposite side of the desk to face him.

“You look like your father,” she says crossing her arms.

Yeonjun glanced up and cocked his eyebrow. “…That’s the last thing I want.”

“Exactly.”

He sighed, slouching in the large desk chair, parting his lips to speak but at that moment his phone lit up with a call request from you.

He looked at his phone, muting the sound as he took a mental note to call you back before he put it in his pocket.

His mother sighed at the sight. The last thing she wanted from all of this was Yeonjun neglecting the life he had built with his friends. She wanted him to finish school, make dumb decisions, party, and fall in love before he had to carry the weight of the world on his shoulders if he did decide to join the company later on.

“What…?” Yeonjun says as he catches his mom staring at him with sad eyes.

“I just…wish you would go back to school.”

“I never said I wasn’t.”

“Then why are you ignoring that girl.”

“That girl has a name.”

“Really? Cause it seems like you’re forgetting all about her,” she savagely states pointing to his phone.

Yeonjun rolls his eyes in irritation and scoffed. “I feel like I outgrew the need for being a college boy. I don’t need school.”

Well, that was a straight lie. He wanted to go back, but he didn’t know how to return to his ‘normal life.’ The fact of the matter is that Yeonjun has always been running from his father. He ran away across the country to go to college so he could build a new life and forget about everything, but now that his dad is out of the picture; he didn’t have to run anymore.

For the first time in his life, he could make decisions purely based on his own will without being haunted by the shadow of the mighty Daniel Choi, which made him rethink all of the choices he has made up until now.

Does he return to school and still run from his life back home by pretending the multi-billion company he’s inheriting doesn’t exist?

Or does he stay here and run from you, his best friends and the life he had built for himself as a distraction from what awaits him when he graduates?

Either way, he was still a runaway. Running on a track with no finish line in sight and he was tired, emotionally and physically.

“Yeonjun. The semester only just started, you could still go back and catch up with the few weeks you’ve missed out on. I can contact a few people I know and help you get back on track. It’s your call,” she tells him in an almost pleading tone.

“I feel like there’s too much-unfinished business,” he replies nervously biting the inside of his cheek.

“The only unfinished business you should be worrying about is the relationship with your friends. How can you turn your back on them so easily after everything they’ve put themselves through to stand by you?”

Her words rubbed salt into his already existing wounds. She’s right, and he knows it. But it was almost as if Yeonjun felt ashamed to return to his friends. He hasn’t come one step closer to solving his emotional scars. He wanted to return to them and you as a changed person. Someone who grew from tragedy.

He wanted to be the same carefree Yeonjun that he used to be, the Yeonjun that people admired and looked up to, but genuinely this time.

“I just…don’t know right now.”

“Let me know when you do.” His mother says coldly, running out of patience with him as she got up, leaving him alone in the massive home office.

He threw his head back in defeat. Closing his eyes to think; something he’s been doing a lot of lately.

He wanted to come out of this stronger, and he had hoped that staying here would help him do so but the frustration of not finding out what he wanted to only made matters worse.

He couldn’t move forward with all of this weighing him down. He owed it to himself and to you to be better because that’s how much he loved you. However, he wasn’t getting better at all. In fact, he wasn’t able to shake off his sadness and anxiety the way he used to, which meant it was getting more difficult to hide it from you as well.

So instead of hiding his pain from you, he hid from you altogether because it didn’t take a genius to notice that Yeonjun was depressed.

Keeping in contact with Yeonjun became harder and harder as soon as school started. Talking every night before bed turned into short texts throughout the day that he forgot to reply to.

Ever since you, Mia, and the boys left his house, you wanted to give him space because he seemed so busy, but when you did talk to him, he was the same Yeonjun for all you knew.

He put in so much effort during summer to make sure you knew how much he cared.

He would tell you he loved you every night before he ended the phone call.

He would send you flowers every week with notes attached to them so you would feel energized and doted on, and he would also send you hoodies with remnants of his cologne on it so you wouldn’t forget his scent when you missed him.

Yeonjun really tried the best he could for you. He even called Mia from time to time to check up on how you were doing so he could get an honest reply other than your usual “I’m fines.”

You were always putting on a brave face for him, just like he was with you. And it made him realize just how similar you two were in that aspect.

Mia told him that you were doing okay, that even though you missed him, you were focused on yourself and hanging out with friends per usual. Mia also told Yeonjun that you are coping with it all due to the fact that you thought he’d return before the end of summer, which made him feel guiltier than ever; especially when he didn’t return at all.

The night he casually told you he’d be staying at home longer than planned over text, you panicked. It’s like your nightmare was coming true and there was nothing you could do about it since it seemed like Yeonjun had already made up his mind. Also, the fact that he didn’t give you a time frame on when he would be returning, only made it worse.

As school started, Mia started feeling guilty about being in the know, and didn’t know how to be around you or Soobin without feeling trapped. Yeonjun felt bad for getting her involved. He knew it had to stop sooner than later, and that he would have to make a decision soon, but then again. He was ashamed of being unchanged and maybe even worse than before.

You hated that the connection between you two started to sever, but you had no clue that Yeonjun might have been doing it on purpose.

The thoughtful and loving Yeonjun you used to talk to had been missing for the past weeks and given the fact that he declined your phone call after 7 days of no real contact whatsoever, made you doubt his self-proclaimed love for you.

The dumbest shit started to swirl into your mind. Was he getting tired of you already? Did he find some new hot office worker lady to replace you with? Or did he realize that a relationship is the last thing he needs right now?

You felt horrible for feeling insecure. You wanted to be more understanding and give him time to heal but you missed him, and you wanted to be there for him, but he didn’t let you.

You were more than fed up with the endless overthinking while hoping for a call or text from Yeonjun, but you also knew that the next time you two talked; should be on his own initiative, and not yours.

“One. More. Shot,” you yell over the loud music at the bar while you beam at Soobin, holding the shots of tequila in front of his face.

“Y/n. Do you want me dead?” he asks you wide-eyed as he leans on the bar, taking the shot from your trembling fingers anyway.

“No, where’s the fun in that,” you pout as you cheers with him, downing it without a chaser.

Both of you put down the shot glasses on the bar simultaneously with a loud thud. You quickly grab a piece of lemon to suck on to subside the bitterness on your taste buds and make a face as you do so.

Soobin shakes his head aggressively at the burning sensation, his cheeks flopping around in response as he pinches his eyes closed to recompose himself while you laugh at his antics.

“Fuck,” he growls, looking at you a little googly-eyed. “I’m fucked up.”

“I can see that,” you snort, ordering the next round of shots.

You were mad at yourself for calling Yeonjun again tonight without response and you were sure to wipe your memory with liquor so you wouldn’t have to feel the shame lingering in your brain.

It has been entirely too long since you spent time with Soobin alone and you would be lying if you said you didn’t miss having him around all the time. When he told you earlier this week that Mia and him had been going through a rough patch due to vagueness and silence from her side, you didn’t hesitate to invite him to drown your sorrows away because you were both going through the exact same thing.

Mia had been a little distant since school started, but it was nothing out of the ordinary to you since you all had different majors. But if Soobin is saying that she’s been distant to him too, then maybe you should talk to her about it. You take a mental note as you listen to him vent, hoping that she would open up to you if you asked.

Your evening started off slowly by talking about the whole situation with Yeonjun. Even though Soobin had been there for you throughout the remaining weeks of summer break, the past week was different. You felt a shift in your relationship with Yeonjun and it almost felt like you weren’t part of his world anymore. He told you over text that he wouldn’t be returning in time for the start of the semester, and though you’ve tried calling him; you hadn’t seen his face or heard his voice since.

He would text you in the dead of night that he was sorry, and that he was just busy, promising to call you the day after but he never did. During the rest of the summer, you did your best to distract yourself from missing him. Even though he wasn’t around; he made quite the effort to show you that he was thinking of you, so in some way, it just felt like he was on vacation or something. In the back of your head, you had this lingering fear that he’d fall in love with living the life he was supposed to have if he had a good relationship with his parents and with his dad being gone, he could finally get a taste of what that life would be like.

When he spoke to you about the company he actually spoke enthusiastically, it’s like he enjoyed being Choi Yeonjun a little more than he enjoyed being just Yeonjun and it was incredibly selfish of you to say, but you wished he didn’t.

After talking over your issues, you had both decided you’ve done enough moping. Soobin started talking about funny things that have been happening during basketball practice and somehow it made you two reminisce about your childhoods when he would challenge you to basketball games. He’d never let you win with his towering height and you felt yourself relaxing in your seat as you laughed the night away.

Drunk was an understatement of your current state, it was nearly 2 AM already and the both of you stumbled out of the bar together. You were latching onto his arm to steady yourself and to your surprise, Soobin was still strong enough to keep you and himself up as you were standing on the sidewalk to hail a taxi.

“Remind me to never drink with you again,” he says as waves his hand in hopes to be noticed by a taxi driver.

You giggle and roll your eyes, and just as you were about to say something, your phone starts to vibrate.

You mindlessly pull it out of your pocket, and with blurry vision, you see Yeonjun’s name on your display. You let go of Soobin’s arm and turn around, giggling to yourself as you pick up.

“HelloooOooo, look who it is. Mister important businessman. Mister Choi himself. How can I help you,” you slur your words as you ramble incoherently.

“Y/n?” Yeonjun sat on the couch in the formal living room, immediately alerted with the sound of your drunken state.

“That’s meeee” you snicker, leaning your unstable figure on a lamppost.

“Are you drunk?” he asks for confirmation as he sat up.

“Oh jeez, what a genius. Hey, by the way. If I want to talk to you do I need to make an appointment with your secretary, or do you take personal calls as well?”

The liquid courage was coursing through your veins at rapid speed as your heart started thumping in your chest. You had no idea why you were being such a bitch, but the alcohol revealed the emotion you so desperately tried to hide from him for leaving you: Anger.

“Are you alone? Where are you?” Yeonjun completely ignored your drunken banter, knowing that your frustration is completely justified. He honestly thought you’d snap at him a lot sooner than this, without the alcohol involved.

“I’m with Binnie.” you sigh as you look back at him.

“Good, so you’re safe.” Yeonjun assumes out loud.

He started pacing in his living room, hating the fact that he wasn’t there to make sure you were okay, but knowing you were with Soobin eased his mind a little.

“Oh, fuck no, he’s doing worse than me,” you say cocking an eyebrow as you see Soobin still waving his arms around like an idiot as he was trying to hail a cab.

“Make sure you get home safe okay?” He says as he bites his lip nervously.

“What do you care.”

“What do you mean, Of course I care.” His eyes were getting sad. He felt horrible for making you feel as though you didn’t matter when in reality, the thought of you alone was the reason he was able to get out of bed every morning.

You scoff. “Yeah, right. Okay.”

You feel a tap on your shoulder and turn around, averting your attention completely. Drunk you could only focus on one thing at a time and you completely forgot that you were on the phone with Yeonjun.

You blink a couple of times before you put your phone in your pocket with Yeonjun still on the line, just now realizing who’s standing in front of you.

“JOHNNY!?” you exclaim loudly and maybe a little too excited.

Yeonjun froze in place, increasing the volume on his phone so he could hear.

“Long time no see!” Johnny says as he wraps you up in a tight hug. The shuffling of your clothing against the mic of the phone was enough for Yeonjun to start clenching his jaw in anger.

He listened to the distant banter of you giggling, talking about this and that before Soobin called you over after he finally managed to get you two a cab.

“I’ll text you,” Johnny yells after you, which made Yeonjun scoff. “Like hell you will,” he says under his breath.

He waited until he heard the doors to the car close, just to make sure before he ended the call.

If a simple hello from a random guy already bothered him this much, how would he ever be able to leave you be on the other side of the country?

He groaned loudly, angrily throwing his phone to the couch, but he missed the safe landing, knocking over an expensive vase which shattered in an instant as it made contact with the tile floor.

“Shit,” he exclaimed before crouching down to pick up his phone, rummaging through the shattered pieces of glass carefully.

Lita emerged from the halls, alerted by the loud noise. “Yeonjun! Don’t touch that. We have vacuums for that!” She practically yells at him.

He felt like a dear caught in headlights as he let go of the broken pieces of valuable glass and waited for Lita to return.

She cleaned up the mess so quickly that he couldn’t offer to help. She didn't even ask questions, and just stayed silent as she did her thing. He followed her to the kitchen like a lost puppy and sat down at the breakfast bar as he watches her discard her gloves in the sink.

She sighed, turning around to face him.

“Sweetheart, I’m going to tell you something and you can’t get mad,” Lita breathes as she sits down in the chair next to him.

He looked up at her, giving her a slight yet confused smile. “Okay...”

“Go back to college, and get counseling,” she says seriously.

He cocked his brow at her bluntness, as it is not something that Lita has ever done before.

“Counselling as in therapy?” he asks wide-eyed.

“Don’t you think it would help?” She questions carefully, fixing a piece of his grown-out hair on the back of his neck.

“Why do you think I should go back?” he questions in genuine curiosity.

Lita is someone who watches from the sidelines. She observes but rarely speaks out. The fact that his mother wasn’t here to interfere was a good reason for speaking up, and so she did.

“Because, the only time I’ve seen you genuinely happy since you’ve been here, is when you saw your friends at the door the day they arrived. Oh, and that girl, you should have seen yourself when you laid eyes on that girl.”

Yeonjun chuckled at her observation. “So it was that obvious huh?”

“Yes. Stop carrying the weight of the world on your shoulders. Stop thinking you need to fix your flaws on your own and seek help. Professional help.”

She was right, though therapy was never something Yeonjun considered it didn’t sound too outrageous to him.

He didn’t feel comfortable with letting a stranger pick his brain, so maybe talking to a school counselor or teacher that he already knew and trusted would help.

He wanted nothing more than the hollowness in his soul to be replaced by the light he once had inside of him.

He wanted to feel something other than sadness, but when he was trying to think of his last genuinely happy moment; he thought of you and the night you snuck into his room in the middle of the night.

He blinked a few times, giving things a good thought.

“Your mother would understand too Yeonjun, the company can wait,” she adds as she strokes his hair again lovingly.

He nodded, getting up from the barstool as he gave Lita a shy smile.

“I know it’s late…but would you help me pack? I’ll leave first thing in the morning.”

It was a rash decision, but a decision like this had to be made on a whim; cause if he would let himself overthink about it. It would take another week for him to come to one.

Lita’s eyes lit up, smiling at him brightly. “Only if you promise you will consider the counseling part as well.”

“Okay,” he sighed. “I’ll think about it.”

You walk into your living room in your loungewear, your hair still wet from the shower you just took, and see Soobin still sound asleep on the couch. His mouth was slightly hanging open and he was snoring ever so lightly. You chuckled at the sight, crouching down before him as you shake his shoulder softly in an attempt to wake him up.

Soobin, being the light sleeper that he is, immediately arose from his sleep. He looked at you a little puzzled, immediately pressing his bunny-like lips together as he rubbed the sleep out of his eyes before he made eye contact with you again.

“Oh…oh…hell no,” he mutters as he feels the nauseating pain in his head as a side effect from his hangover. “Why is it so bright in here?” He huffs as he turns around, burying his face in the pillow he slept on.

You chuckle, smacking his back. “Get up.”

He groans turning back around to face you. “How did we even get home?”

“I don’t know, but the important part is that we did,” you say making your way to your kitchen.

He chuckled, reaching for his phone as he expected missed calls or texts from his girlfriend, but Mia didn’t contact him at all last night.

He frowned. “I don’t know what’s going on with her. She was fine until school started.”

You immediately knew who Soobin was talking about, and you purse your lips together; looking at him as you pour yourself a cup of coffee.

“Maybe she’s just stressed about the workload,” you try, but he shakes his head in response.

“I don’t know, every time I try to talk to her about it, she changes the subject.”

Soobin got up from your couch, waddling to your kitchen to steal the coffee you just poured for yourself.

As he took a sip, you glare at him. “That’s mine.”

“Shut up, you owe me this much for killing at least half my brain cells last night.”

“Can’t kill what you don’t have,” you argue, taking back your coffee while he glares at you this time.

“Now go shower. You can wear some of Yeonjun’s clothes.”

“He left clothes here?” Soobin asked raising his eyebrows in surprise. “Yeah, he never got to use them though.” You sigh, looking at the by now wilted roses in the vase on your kitchen counter and suddenly your eyes widen in realization.

The phone call.

“Fuck,” you exclaim, leaving your kitchen, running around to find your phone.

“Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!” You raise your voice in annoyance scattering your apartment to find your jacket.

“What…are you doing?” Soobin asks as he takes another sip of your coffee, his eyes darting around your living room to follow your panicky figure.

You find your jacket and retrieve your phone from its pocket. You quickly open it, seeing Yeonjun’s name in the ‘Recent’ callers list at the exact same time you left the bar.

“He called me last night. It just came back to me. Shit. I was a total inconsiderate asshole.”

Soobin’s eyes widened and he walked up to you, grabbing you by your shoulders, making you look at him. “Calm. Down. What did you say?”

“Something along the lines of him not caring about me and asking him if I need an appointment with his secretary to get to him, Also. I’m not sure if he heard Johnny’s voice but we all know how he feels about him” you pout.

Soobin pursed his lips, trying to suppress a laugh but he couldn’t as his nostrils flared, bursting into loud laughter.

Your distressed state vanished, and you chuckled lightly, slapping his chest. “That’s not funny.”

“Yes, it is. Look, don’t worry. I’m sure he laughed just as loud as I did,” he says patting your hair in assurance before he envelops you into a hug to calm you down.

“You think?” you say nuzzling your face in his chest.

“Yeah, I’ll call him if you want, don’t worry about it too much okay?”

You nod and he let go of you, giving you a sweet smile. “Now, while I wash up, please make me breakfast. I’m starving.”

You scoff, pushing him off of you. “Fine.”

“That’s the last of it.” Lita says as she handed the driver Yeonjun’s last piece of luggage. He closed the trunk of the car that would take Yeonjun to the airport and got into the drivers’ seat without a word.

His mother gave him a small smile. “I’m glad you changed your mind.”

“Actually…Lita imo changed my mind,” he says giving his housekeeper a warm smile before he averted his attention back to his mother.

“Please, pick up when I call you. Okay?” She says as she put a hand on his shoulder. He just chuckled, pulling her in for a hug that she didn’t expect.

“I will,” he says breathing in her scent, a scent that started to feel like home. Despite their differences, they did become closer. And hopefully, their future would be filled with more of these moments.

His mothers’ eyes got glassy as he let go of her, but he didn’t notice as he wrapped Lita into his arms as well. Hugging her goodbye without saying much.

“I’ll see you two soon, okay?” He says winking to them before he got into the car.

He gave them a smile, waving to them from the car as he drove off and when they were completely out of sight, his smile faltered.

Saying goodbye wasn’t hard for him, it was going back that made the stress inside of him run wild.

He didn’t know how to face you knowing that he has to tell you that he wasn’t even planning to come back before Mia’s guilt would eat her alive.

Hell, given the conversation you had with him last night on the phone, he wasn’t even sure if you’d run back into his arms at all.

He closed his eyes hoping that you would understand, but he also knew that the probability was small that the truth would be accepted without turmoil. He opened his eyes slowly, staring out of the window, wishing that his return to college would bring more good than bad.

“Soobin, you’re taking too long!” you yell out for him as you assemble a sunny-side-up egg on top of the avocado toast you just made for the two of you.

“I can’t find Yeonjun hyungs shirts!” He yelled back to you.

You sigh, pausing your movements. “It’s on the top shelve.”

Just as you were going to resume your actions, your doorbell startled you.

You frown, walking up to your front door, and open it, completely and utterly shocked when you see them at your doorstep.

“Mom? Dad?” Your eyes widen in shock, and then you remembered. They planned to visit you this weekend and you completely forgot about it.

“There’s my girl!” your dad exclaims as he wraps you into a tight hug.

Oh my god, how could you forget...

Your mom hugged you next, and your dad walks in, inspecting your living space.

“Wow, something smells good in here.”

You dumbfoundedly follow your parents inside of your living room, and right before you could open your mouth to speak, a wet haired and shirtless Soobin emerges from your bedroom, towel drying his hair.

“Y/n, I can’t find the sh-shirts.” Soobin paused, frozen in place as he made eye contact with your parents.

He quickly wrapped the towel he used to dry his hair over his chest as his cheeks colored a bright red.

“Soobin!?” your mom exclaims as her eyes dart from you to him.

Your dad’s eyes narrow at Soobin and he sighed. “I knew it.”

“No! No. Absolutely not. That’s not what this is,” you say as you stand between your parents and Soobin.

“Then, what is this?” Your dad asks rubbing his forehead.

“Soobin, sweetie; didn’t you have a girlfriend?” Your mother asks as she crosses her arms.

“Y-yes, I do.” Soobin stutters nervously.

“Well son, that doesn’t make this look any better does it.” Your father retorts.

“No. We just went to have drinks last night, he crashed on the couch. That’s it.”

“Yes, besides, we’re both in relationships and we’re like family. It’s nothing like that I promise.” Soobin says with a bright smile before realization hit him.

You turn to him, fire-spewing from your pupils. Your parents had no idea Yeonjun even existed, and now Soobin basically outed him as your boyfriend.

“Both in relationships? Y/n what is he talking about?” your mom asks wide-eyed.

“I-uh…I’m…” you stutter before you turn to Soobin. “Please, dude. Get dressed. Top shelf, on the right,” you say through your teeth, shooing him away.

He mouthed an inaudible ‘I’m sorry’ to you before he disappeared into your room to find the shirt once again.

Your dad sat down on your couch, patiently waiting for you to start talking and you sighed, trying to not so subtly change the subject.

“So…how was the trip…” you ask as you lean against your kitchen counter.

“This boyfriend of yours? What’s his name?”

“He’s…not really my boyfriend…yet…I don’t know where we stand.”

“Ok…well as long as he treats you right.” Your mom says, making your dad nod in response.

Soobin emerged from your room again, fully clothed this time and you immediately relaxed in his presence. He took a seat across from your dad as your mother stood beside you.

“So, what’s his name? And, where is he?” Your dad start interrogating you as he crossed his legs. His tone was overbearingly protective which made Soobin chuckle as you roll your eyes.

“His name is Yeonjun…and he’s not in town right now,” you state vaguely which made Soobin jump in.

“Unfortunately, his father passed away and he’s been dealing with that before he returns to school,” he adds, and you thank him with a sad smile which he reciprocated with an assuring nod.

“Oh no, that’s horrible.” Your mom says.

“Yeah, too bad, I’d love to meet him before we left tonight.” Your dad huffs.

“Don’t count on it,” you sigh.

It was 3 PM and Yeonjun finally arrived at the apartment complex. He silently thanked his mother for insisting he should take a flight instead of driving for six hours because the last time he did, he was exhausted for several days.

Yeonjun turned the key to the apartment, sighing loudly as he twisted the doorknob. The familiar feeling of anxiety rippling through his veins. Making him freeze before he built up the courage to open the door.

He took off his shoes before rolling his suitcase into the living room, and as he glanced up, he was surprised to see a frozen Taehyun, Beomgyu and Hueningkai on the couch, looking at him as if they just saw a dead man walking.

Taehyun was the first to get up. “HYUNG!” he grinned from ear to ear. Jumping up from the couch to fly into Yeonjuns arms, followed by Beomgyu and Hueningkai who enveloped him into a tight hug as well.

Yeonjun’s lips curled up into a smile, genuinely this time. God, he missed them. So much.

“Oh my god, we missed you so much.” Hueningkai yelps as he clings onto the older ones’ waist.

Yeonjun chuckled, feeling a huge weight lifted off his shoulders as he patted Hyuka’s head. Completely overwhelmed with how happy they were to see him, and he had to admit; the feeling was completely mutual.

“How are you feeling?” Beomgyu asks as he took a hold of Yeonjun's shoulders, looking at him intently with his big eyes. “Anxious to be back.” Yeonjun answers honestly. “I don’t know, I’m not the same person I was before I left, you know.”

The boys nodded in response. “Well, we’re here for you regardless. Take all the time you need.” Beomgyu says with a sweet smile, and Yeonjun sighs in relief.

“Thanks guys.”

“Yeah, but don’t take too much time. The team is completely out of balance without you, our next tournament is in two weeks so it would be nice to have you back y’know.” Taehyun remarks which earned him a painful elbow in his ribs from Hueningkai. “Why would you burden him with that now,” he hisses, which made Yeonjun laugh out loud.

“It’s ok, I’ll still do charity work.” Yeonjun says cockily which made the guys laugh in response as he winked at them.

“Ahh, jup. He’s back.” Taehyun says rolling his eyes.

“I’ll take this to your room.” Hueningkai volunteers as he grabs a hold of his suitcase, rolling it to Yeonjun’s bedroom before he could say anything.

“So…where’s Soobin? He was out with y/n last night, right?” Yeonjun carefully asks, sitting down on the armrest of the couch.

“Oh, yeah. He didn’t come home. I think he crashed at her place.” Taehyun says absentmindedly as he poured Yeonjun a glass of water.

Yeonjun raised his brows, nodding understandingly. He wasn’t thrilled that Soobin slept over at your place, but he also knew he had nothing to worry about.

The constant tinging feeling of jealousy was just a result of his own insecurity and he knew he couldn’t blame you for any of it. Especially since Soobin is like a brother to you.

“Did you talk to y/n yet?” Beomgyu asks crossing his arms over his chest.

“More or less. She doesn’t know I’m back.” Yeonjun says, nervously biting his cheek.

“Oh really! She’ll be so happy to see you.” Taehyun exclaims, handing Yeonjun the glass of water he just poured for him.

“Yeah…” Yeonjun says taking a sip of his water. “So happy…”

Mia was seated behind her desk, completely immersed in her study material before the loud vibrations of her phone on the wooden desk snapped her back to reality.

She sighed seeing Yeonjun’s name on the caller ID, so she picked up. Ironically so, he was the only one she didn’t have to hide secrets from. Meaning that she could pick up with an eased mind.

“Hey,” she says as she answered the phone, moving the device to her left ear.

“Hey, how are you?” Yeonjun asks, staring at the ceiling as he laid on his bed.

“Uhm…ok? I guess.”

“I’m back at school,” he says getting straight to the point.

Mia’s eyes widened in shock as she gulped. “What? Really?”

“Yes. And I’m so sorry about making you lie to Soobin, y/n and the guys. But I want to make it right. I’ll tell them everything. I’ll tell them it’s my fault for getting you involved, but I need to clear my conscience before I can move forward you know.” He sighs, waiting for Mia to respond but she stayed silent.

“The last few weeks were hard Yeonjun.” Her voice cracked when she finally spoke up, and that familiar feeling of self-loathing took over Yeonjun’s senses again.

“I’m sorry. Let me make this right,” he says closing his eyes, hoping for a positive response.

“Let’s go to y/n place together Ok? I think Soobin is still with her since he didn’t come home yet.”

Mia sighed, rubbing her forehead nervously. “Ok...do I meet you there?”

“No, I’ll pick you up. Don’t worry. I’ll be there in half an hour.”

You spent the day with your parents and Soobin around town for most of the day. Your mom wanted to cook all of you a feast, so you spent the day shopping for ingredients, and the four of you even had lunch together.

It felt like old times, and you desperately needed it. You were so wrapped up in schoolwork, Yeonjun, and everything that happened over the summer that you didn’t even realize how much you missed your parents.

You came back home around 5 and you were helping your mom prepare dinner as Soobin and your dad talked about the trip your parents made in Europe.

“Mom, this is way too much food.”

“It’s okay, Soobin can take it home with him to feed those other boys.”

You chuckled, your mom never knew how to portion her cooking right and it got the two of you talking about the time she cooked four whole turkeys for Christmas a few years ago for your and Soobin’s family alone.

The ringing of your doorbell snaps you out of your conversation, and you ask Soobin to get the door as you were expecting a package one of these days.

Soobin nodded at your request, getting up from the couch while he made his way to your front door.

Since your kitchen is directly across from your hallway, your gaze followed him while you peeled some potatoes, curious to see if your assumption was right.

Soobin opened the door with a dramatic swing, his friendly smile faltering as he sees Yeonjun in the doorway with his girlfriend. “Y-yeonjun hyung? Mia? What are you two doing here?”

You swore your eyes were playing tricks with you. That the alcohol from last night came back to you in forms of hallucinations and unexplainable mirages but when his eyes locked with yours, you knew it was really him.

You stand frozen on your feet, dropping the half-peeled potato in the sink as you start blinking to recompose yourself, suddenly realizing that your parents were in the room; having equally confused facial expressions to match those of you and Soobin.

“Yeonjun?” your dad asks. “The Yeonjun?”

Yeonjun’s eyes left yours, completely shocked to see your parents in your apartment. Well fuck. This is not what he had planned at all.

Soobin’s eyes were boring into Mia’s, completely and utterly confused as to what she was doing here, and with Yeonjun at that.

He gave you a look and you shrugged, still too dazed with the fact that Yeonjun was standing in your doorway; so much so that you hadn’t even noticed Mia standing next to him.

Your mom's eyes lit up, seeing the two of them. “Oh, this is just perfect,” she exclaims.

“Now you can all stay for dinner!”

Chapter 11

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