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cinnamonest · 3 years

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Y’all are too nice to me I swear… here I am being horny and nasty on main and I’m getting encouraged, damn. But for real ( ´ ω ` ) thank you so much!!

I’m gaining more confidence to post more smutty stuff and the kind of dark shit I like, so I might go back and make more nasty Childe content later on too… After Albedo, I got Razor and Zhongli coming up, and a few ones I just worked on for fun. But yeah, just in case it wasn’t clear for anyone who followed me, I’m going to be writing almost entirely dark content and some really nasty stuff, so just be aware of that, and don’t consume my writing if that’s something that may be harmful to you.

Albedo is so pretty… and such good dark content material… He treats you like a science experiment but has the audacity to make it hot smh

I haven’t seen a whole lot of him outside the cutscenes, so potentially ooc (as if yandere content isn’t already ooc, lmao)

Albedo - Yandere Profile

tw: general yandere content, obsessive behavior, stalking

tw (below cut): smut, noncon (seriously, you’ve been warned)

What are they generally like? Lucid, aware? Obsessive? How do they behave?

Very much aware. In the beginning, it frustrates him. He’s never been particularly attached to anyone, outside of his former instructor. He’s always enjoyed being out on his own, spending extended amounts of time by himself – the desire to be around someone is a foreign feeling for him. He immediately notices how bizarre the emotion is for him, how it changes his behaviors. His self awareness combined with perceptiveness makes him able to acutely recognize not only how unusual this emotion is for him, but also how the extent of his feelings, the types of desires they ignite in him, is unusual even for “normal” people who aren’t social recluses.

He’s frustrated by his own actions, feels embarrassed at how attached he is to you, how easily you make him flustered and trip over his words. As he is a very aware yandere, he’s definitely afraid of rejection to some degree. He has no idea how to navigate feelings and interactions with other people, he’s never really had the desire to form a particularly strong bond with anyone before. As such, he’ll come across as very awkward, and he will interact with you less than most yanderes – he knows he’s just going to embarrass himself if he talks to you, right? He’ll just mess up and say something strange, so instead, he opts to watch you from the shadows, go to places where you are, but keep a distance from you, just being able to watch you makes him feel fluttery and overwhelmed.

He will definitely be one to collect things from you. He collects plenty of things for the sake of science, this is no different. Or so he tries to tell himself, but he can’t delude himself even if he tries. He knows its weird, he knows its wrong, but the overwhelming urge to have things of yours is too great to resist. He’ll start off with more innocent things, but it will gradually progress to not-so-innocent… items of yours.

It may not be obvious, but he’s actually a fairly sensitive person, at least regarding you. He places a lot of value in what you think of him, and wants to ensure you’ll respond positively to him. He views it like a science – there should be some formula by which he can put in the correct actions, and produce a specific result. Unfortunately, unlike real science, there’s not much room for trial and error – he feels he only has once chance.

How likely are they to kidnap their darling? How quickly will they do so?

It will take some time, as he’s got to get over his own nerves first. He’s torn between the fear of you hating him for such a thing, it would be the end of the world for him, but also the desire to pull you away from the world, to keep you hidden from others, to have you all to himself, to be the only person that gets to look at you. If you start showing positive signs, reacting positively to his gifts, expressing interest in conversation with him and going out of your way to see him, he’ll start to get more confident, think that he can afford to do something that might sour your opinion of him, hoping it will merely be temporary.

He’ll probably start to do so several times and back out. He’ll set out at night, make it all the way to your room and stand over your sleeping form, and he’ll start to worry, wonder if someone saw him, see holes in his plans, he gets too nervous and bolts. He’ll persuade you into being alone with him, and although its the chance he’s looking for, again, he’ll get nervous, worry about being caught, run through all the what-ifs, and miss the chance. Honestly, when he does finally take you, it will probably be not planned, but in the heat of the moment, a rash decision from desperation. Something like you coming to visit him to tell him you’re leaving the area, came to say goodbye, and he’ll panic, ultimately grabbing you by the arm as you try to leave and dragging you back inside, silently, but forcefully.

How difficult is it to escape from them? How do they keep you restrained? How do they deal with attempted escape?

Moderately difficult. Your best bet is to take advantage of his tendency to be absent minded when he’s absorbed in his work. He gets very lost in his thoughts, to a point where he’ll completely zone out and be oblivious to the world around him. On the downside, this means you won’t have much time to cover distance, he’ll be close behind the moment he realizes you’re gone.

The route he’ll probably take is actually one where you won’t need to be too restrained, because you’ll be taking… a little research trip. Out to the most freezing, desolate areas of the mountains. He’s convinced the knights he needs to stay there for his research, but in reality, he’s internally panicking, as he tries to figure out how to make this work – after all, you two can’t stay here forever. You’d be foolish to run out of the little cabin he’s bought, out into the perilous freezing cold and jagged, high slopes. At first, he thinks there’s no way you’d try it, so he’s content letting you have free reign to walk around as you please. If he has to leave for whatever reason, he’ll probably lock you into a single room, but he won’t chain you up, as again, he's really trying to avoid making you hate him.

If you prove to be determined to leave, he’ll be hurt, but mostly concerned for you. He’s actually not one to get too mad over an escape attempt – he’ll blame himself, or theorize it’s just a natural response your brain triggered. Against his first choice, he’ll end up having to get more strict with your restraints. If you get too whiny, though… you might trigger one of his more frustrated moments.

“I didn’t want to have to do this… I’m sorry. I can’t risk anything bad happening to you. Tell me if it’s too tight… I don’t want to hurt you. I don’t blame you. I know you’re probably panicking over all this, but you’ll get adjusted to it, I promise. Just… just give it some time… it’s not so bad, living with me, I promise.”

“Don’t be like that. You’re only tied up because you tried to leave. You should understand why you have to be kept like this… If you don’t want to be restrained, you shouldn’t have run out, trying to get yourself killed.”

How easy are they to trick, deceive, or manipulate?

For all his academic intelligence, he’s not highly skilled with people and socialization. He’s not too good at being able to tell when he’s being lied to, and he definitely won’t pick up on subtle manipulation. It’ll be pretty easy to wrap him around your finger, he’ll do what he can to make you happy.

Once he finds out you’ve lied to him, though, he’ll get pretty upset. He likely won’t trust you again, and will require proof of anything you say, or set out to find out if you’re telling him the truth or not.

How lenient are they? What privileges can you have, and what will you be denied?

He’ll try to accommodate you, giving you things you ask for, but he has limits. He’s too paranoid to let you have any contact with the outside world. You do have him wrapped around your finger to an extent, though. Whatever he’s doing at the moment, he’ll drop it in a heartbeat if you want to spend time with him in any way, even if its just you asking for food or to take a walk. He’ll be willing to take you for very short trips outside, no further than a few yards from the lodging, if only because he knows sunlight is vital to your health.

What kind of rules do they have? What kind of punishment would they use?

The basics will be there – don’t try to leave, don’t be difficult with him, try to cooperate, be obedient. However, he’s also particularly overprotective of anything that can hurt you – even yourself. Under no circumstances can you handle anything that can hurt you – that means no cooking, no knives, no lifting anything heavy, no going outside without him. If you’re determined to cook something, he’ll have to stand right behind you, and watch while you do it. If you get so much as a little cut or burn, he’ll take over, insisting you go sit down after he tends to your “wounds.”

At the very beginning, he’ll be hesitant to punish you too much, as part of his plan to get you to like him. However, he can be a little easily frustrated, and your safety and well-being comes first, even if it means he has to make you upset. He will have to restrain you, take away what little privileges you had. If you try to bolt while you’re outside, no more going outside. If you try something foolish like attacking him with a knife when he gives you cooking privileges, you will lose said privileges. Really, the worst part of it all is the humiliation, being treated like a dumb, incapable baby that can’t do anything for yourself. He insists on doing everything for you, even down to bathing you and dressing you, even feeding you if you can’t convince him to take restraints off your hands. He’ll talk down to you in that way, too, talking to you as if you were a child.

How do they deal with rivals, or perceived rivals? Will they get rid of them? Will they kill them themselves, or find another way?

It’s a situation he’s not prepared to handle, and he’s unsure of what to do. It strikes fear in him that you might have someone else interested, so he has to get rid of them as quickly as possible. He’s not opposed to killing, if it comes down to that, but initially, he’ll try to work behind the scenes – expose something that will ruin their reputation, get them accused of a crime. This would also be one of the possible aforementioned situations that might cause him to kidnap you a bit earlier than he normally would, as well. If he can’t get rid of them easily, he’ll just take you away from them.

He will absolutely try to make you hate them, try to ruin your image of them, and he’s rather good at falsifying evidence for his claims of their behavior. With his alchemic skills, that sort of thing is easily possible.

How easy is it to make them mad? What does their anger look like?

He gets more frustrated than anything, when you’re being difficult. This is mostly just him sighing quite a bit, speaking a bit harshly, even pouting and sulking a bit if you’ve offended him. But true anger in him is not pretty, and almost never happens. It’s a buildup, a slow rise that has a boiling point. If he reaches that point, he can definitely get mad enough to hurt you, it’s actually kind of terrifying in how sharp of a contrast it is to how he normally is. It’s a side of him that’s very difficult to draw out. He’s not one to yell or shout, no, his anger is a suffocating silence, he slams down whatever he’s holding as he stomps over to you, grabbing you by the arms hard enough to bruise, and dragging you by the hair to whatever he has planned.

With mild frustration outbursts, he will feel justified, but if it reaches that intense anger, he’ll usually give at least a little apology, tell you he didn’t mean to go that far. He hates to think of you fearing him, but ultimately, if that’s what’s necessary to keep you safe, then he can live with it.

Do they see you as above them, beneath them, or equal to them?

It’s an odd mix. On one hand, he sees you as utterly fascinating, the most beautiful thing he’s ever laid eyes on, more than any landscape or art he’s seen or made, an invaluable treasure to be kept on a high pedestal. Simultaneously, however, he will treat you like a child, thinks you can’t do anything for yourself. It’s a bizarre duality, but one he is consistent on. You’re precious, so very precious, and he’s undeserving of you, but at the same time, you need him to be safe and sound.

How determined are they for you to love them? How hard will they try to make it happen? Or are they content just having you?

Of the genshin boys, he’s one of the most determined. He’s not good with people, and he doesn’t really have anyone particularly close to him left anymore. He tends to keep people at a distance. You sort of fill an space inside him that he never knew was empty, a void he wasn’t aware he had until it was consumed by thoughts of you. He doesn’t need anyone or anything else, so long as he has you with him, but he really, really wants it to be true that you love him. He doesn’t need you to even love him as much as he loves you – he doesn’t even know if that’s possible – but he just wants to know that, even if only in the slightest, his feelings are returned. He’s so distant from everyone else, but you wormed your way into his heart, even if you didn’t intend to, with your smiles and softness and kindness towards him. For the first time, he feels weak around someone, but in a way, it’s a good feeling. He wants to be able to be vulnerable, be weak, and not have anything to fear by doing so.

He’s lucid, though, so he doesn’t expect you to love him immediately. As he’s not good with words or displays of affection, he’ll get you all sorts of gifts. Rare items that you wonder how the hell he obtained them, beautifully crafted little trinkets from all his searching and time traveling, more clothes than you could ever wear. You’ll start to feel a little guilty, it’s so much, and you’re certain he doesn’t have that much money. He’ll blow it off, say it’s no big deal, but if you insist, he’ll have to start finding new ways to convey his affection. In captivity, he won’t stop trying, but he’ll understand why you might be angry. In that case, he will utilize what he’s learned from research in books he’s read. He knows that eventually, with him being the only one you have, the only company, the only one to talk to, the only source of touch, you’ll eventually have to cave. You’ll become attached to him, bond with him, whether you like it or not. He knows how powerful the affect of touch can be, and will make sure to hold you in his arms, keep you on his lap, make you crave the only source of human touch you can get. Dependency, he thinks, is the gateway to you loving him.

Bonus: Is there anything that makes them unique, in comparison to other yanderes?

Drawings. So many of them. Much like his drawings he uses in notes, he’s found he tends to start scribbling a familiar face when his mind drifts off. He’s memorized every little detail of your face, every curve on your body. If you’re ever snooping around, you’ll eventually uncover a book of sketches he has solely dedicated to drawings of you. Drawings of you laughing, smiling, sleeping, drawings that you’re certain were of real events you were at, that you didn’t remember him being at. Every bit in perfect detail. If you confront him about it, he’ll be horrifically embarrassed, insisting they’re no good, or, if you’re upset, trying to reassure you it was all from his mind and totally not him lurking in the shadows as he watches you.

Also, if you want to make him happy, get him on one of his spiels about his work, his interests, anything that he can catch onto and go on and on about. He’ll catch himself rambling and apologize for being “annoying,” but if you reassure him, and express interest, that will make him feel particularly appreciated. It would be a primary way to get on his good side and manipulate him, or lull him into false security to make your escape, if that’s what you’re looking to do. But be warned, it will only work once, and he’ll be far too hurt to let himself indulge in sharing these things with you again.

General perverseness: how sexual of a person are they? What’s their drive like? How touchy do they get? Do they have any reservations about sexuality?

Publicly, definitely highly reserved. He’s easily flustered, and thinks of sex in a very scientific way, for the purpose of procreation. For fun? He knows it’s enjoyable, but can’t separate it from his very analytic, scientific way of viewing things. It’s a formula, you touch this here and pull that there, and the result is supposed to be orgasmic bliss. He just isn’t very familiar with pleasure – he doesn’t drag out masturbation, even, as that would be a waste of time. He gets it over with quickly, taking short breaks during his work. He is a fairly high drive, though, and gets the urge fairly frequently, about once or twice a day.

He’ll be hornier with your presence, having to leave more frequently to get off to the little things you do, quickly getting himself off while recalling the mental image of you holding a pen in your mouth, the little moan when you stretch, the way your clothes fit to your frame.

Prior to abduction, he’s not particularly touchy at all, in fact, he’s very jumpy if you touch him. Once he’s gotten you alone with him for the foreseeable future, isolated, dependent, he’ll gain more confidence, be willing to give into his cravings to touch you, hold you, eventually progressing to groping you, moving his hands up and down your body, under your clothes, slowly peeling them off.

He’s initially a bit ashamed of his urges towards you, feels guilty every time he gets off to you, but will likewise gain more confidence once you're his.

A guy can only fight off the urge for so long before he cracks, before he can’t continue to care about the consequences. For him, that point is when he knows he finally has you all to himself – his worries fade, and while the guilt is still there, it’s far outweighed by desire.

How forceful are they? Do they care about your willingness?

He does care, but as stated previously, it’s hard to fight the urge for so long. It will be torture, but for the first few days, he wants you to “adjust” to your new “home,” and not add to your panic. After that, though, he’ll try to assess your reactions. If you’re extremely resistant, he’ll give you more “adjustment” time. He can’t really hold off forever, though, and eventually, maybe a few weeks in, comes to the conclusion that if he just does what he wants, so long as he’s gentle and reminds you he loves you, it will help you get past the mental barrier in your mind. He’s convinced there’s simply a psychological issue, and that sometimes, people need a push. It’s like having a friend who can’t swim – sometimes, you just have to throw them into the water, help them get over that mental hurdle, and they’ll be grateful in the end. That’s what he tells himself to justify it, anyway. He has enough… anatomical prerequisite knowledge to know what’s good and what’s bad, and will take your body’s positive reactions as a sign of what you really want. Is definitely the kind to use that against you, holding up his fingers to your face after you cum on them, as if to prove a point.

“See? I told you, you just have to let go and give in to what you want… if you didn’t, my fingers wouldn’t be dripping like this, now would they?”

What sort of kinks or fetishes do they have, or would they fill?

He wants to experiment on you. This manifests as him being something of a service top without really intending to be, even if you’re not exactly happy about it. He likes to watch your reactions, watch the way your body moves, test the pleasure you get from different things, discover what it is that you like, even if you weren’t aware of it. In particular, he’s fascinated by the fact that girls have so many types of orgasms. He’ll want to try them all, watch and see which ones are more intense than others, which ones make you convulse, makes your toes curl, your eyes roll back. Which erogenous zones make your breath hitch, make you twitch and whimper. Probably the type to be determined that he can make you cum just from something like sucking on your nipples, and he won’t stop until he achieves it. He’ll also want to try everything. At least anything that he thinks has some potential to appeal to him, mentally. He’s a busy man and hasn’t really taken the time to explore his own sexuality, and has virtually zero experience.

Edging, overstimulation, forced orgasms

Experimentation also means testing limits and thresholds. He’ll bring you up to the edge, learn to watch for the slightest of signs that you’re close, listen to your breath, watch your face, wait until you’re just so close and then draw back, stopping just short of letting you catch that high. Then he’ll let you drift back down, and bring you back up again. No amount of begging will make him show you any mercy, you’ll only cum when he’s decided he’s observed enough. He wants to push the limit, see just how close to the edge of orgasm you can get without spilling over, just how much it takes to drive you insane. He’ll also want to see how far you can go after it as well. Orgasm won’t be the end of his ministrations, no, he wants to see how much stimulation you can take. You won’t be able to get away from his tongue, he’ll grab you by the hips and slam you back down, continuing to lap at you even if you’re so sensitive it’s painful. Watching you cum will just make him rut into you harder, bruising and abusing your insides to a point that they’re so sore you can feel it long after it’s over. At first, he might feel a little guilty, and may very well after it’s over, but in the heat of the moment, he can’t fight the insatiable urge to listen to you squeal, feel you convulse, watch the tears from overwhelming pleasure run down your face.

He’ll make it his personal mission to see how many orgasms the female body is capable of within a given amount of time - per day, per hour, how quickly you can have them in succession. For scientific purposes, of course. Anatomy and human biology isn’t really his main field of focus, but he likes to expand his research horizons.

“Just one more… cum one more time for me, then we’ll be done. Come on… I know you can, just one more.”

How do they feel about pregnancy or babies? Do they want them?

He’s actually good with children, usually. He has a calming effect on kids. He isn’t sure how he feels, though. To some degree, he fears his capabilities to parent, thinks he would be too cold to be a good father. But he also likes the idea of a protege, an heir to his title, one he can teach everything he knows. If he does end up having one, this fucking nerd man will read every book on pregnancy, birthing, and parenting that he can get his hands on.

Also, he’ll absolutely be one to track your cycles, even better than you can. He’s researched enough to know exactly when you’re most or least likely to get pregnant, and you can’t help but notice how much more he seems to cum in you when you’re at your most fertile. Nor can he deny how satisfying it is to watch his cum slowly drip out of you, watching you twitch with aftershock and slowly drift off in exhaustion.

What kind of (nsfw) punishments would they use?

Unfortunately for you, since overstimulation and edging are already normal and everyday for you, he’ll have to amp it up a bit if he��s trying to make you regret something. He might get rougher, abusing more pleasure spots on your body, keeping his hands, mouth, and cock occupied all at once with driving you over the edge until it’s painful. But if you’re exceptionally misbehaved, you might not ever get a release to his edging, instead left to suffer from being so close, tied up so you can’t finish yourself off.

In moments when he’s really, truly angry, the peak of it, and that blends with arousal, he’ll really, really throatfuck you. Grabbing the back of your head and shoving his cock down as deep as he can, holding you there as you gag and choke, feeling your throat convulse around him, desperately trying to pull back for air. The movements are harsh and brutal, pulling harshly on your hair, moving at a pace so fast you barely have a second to breathe. Thankfully, when it gets like that, he won’t last long, emptying out into your throat, holding your jaw shut and demanding you swallow. If any spills off on your chin, he’ll gather it up on his fingers, hold it to your face, and command you to open your mouth, suck it off, and swallow again. That’s at the peak of his anger, though, and you’ll have to substantially piss him off to reach that point. He’ll apologize later, holding you close, but his guilt doesn’t change the fact that it’s one of the most intense orgasms that he’ll have, and he’d be lying if he said he didn’t sometimes think of doing it again, even without provocation. He’s restrained enough not to, but the thought is there… and deep down, he’ll entertain the idea.

What body parts of their darling do they like the most?

The curves of your body, no matter how defined or faint they are, no matter the general shape of your body, to him it’s the most beautiful thing. He’ll definitely want to draw you, even if you’re not too keen on posing. He’ll run his hands up and down your body, squeezing every little bit of flesh he can, moving his palms over every little curve, every inch of your skin.

#yandere x reader #yandere genshin impact #yandere albedo x reader #tw: extreme content #tw: noncon #yandere albedo

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soobmint · 3 years

Text

paper hearts | choi soobin [f] ; [c] 80s! au, 9.6k words

s u m m a r y ; if there was one thing you wanted to avoid on valentine’s day, it was running into your ex best friend, choi soobin. but when a series of unfortunate events involving too much purple eyeshadow, drunken punches, and one stolen bicycle leads you right back to his side, you begin to realize that maybe you truly belonged with him all along.

c o n t e n t s ; soobin x fem!reader, 80s! au, valentine’s day, ex best friend! soobin, rich boy! soobin, but he’s a major dweeb and the biggest softie, yeonjun is a major prick (i’m so sorry junnie), reader is a part time worker, soobin is best friends with lee felix of stray kids, some themes of social classes, roughly inspired by the 80s movie “pretty in pink,” mentions drugs, alcohol, and single parent households, mostly just fluff, fluff, and more fluff, with a hint of crack/humor

n o t e ; hello friends! this was a very quickly planned, last minute valentine’s day idea, and it’s actually a collab with one of my dearest friends, @chanluster ! she posted her piece of the collab as well, you can check it out by going to the collab masterlist here! this was so much fun to write and i think that 80s! soobin was just too good of a concept to pass up! anyways, happy valentine’s day, i hope you enjoy this oneshot! do leave a like, reblog, or comment if you could, it really helps so much <3

[back to my masterlist] [oneshot playlist]

IF ONE MORE CUT-OUT, CRAFT-PAPER HEART HIT YOU IN THE FACE, YOU WERE GOING TO QUIT YOUR JOB.

Of course you would never actually quit. With your mother out of the picture and your father working nonstop overtime just to barely have enough cash to put food on the table for the both of you, you had come to rely on your minimum wage part-time hours more than you liked to admit. However, the handmade strings of paper hearts that hung from wall to wall throughout the entirety of the record shop you were employed at was enough to make you consider it; not to mention the Phil Collins record that had been spinning all day, filling your ears with melodies embodying the very air of romance, and the embarrassing pink sweater your boss had forced you to wear. You mumbled curses beneath your breath as you pulled at the collar, itching away at your neck.

When you made a step towards a crate full of records, ready to tidy it up after a customer had rummaged through it leaving it a mess, you were met with another face full of cheap red construction paper. With a large growl of exasperation, you swatted at the hearts and accidentally caused the entire string of them to fall to the ground. You cleared your throat, glad that no customers were present to see your little outburst.

Your boss, Jen, still saw it all.

“That’s not very festive of you, kid,” She said, taking a drag on her cigarette. “It’s Valentine’s Day! Lighten up.”

“Ah, my bad. I forgot that I was supposed to be overjoyed on the day honoring the execution of St. Valentine,” You said as you gave her a sarcastic smile. “I’ll make sure to smile at the next couple that walks in and ask them how they plan to contribute to the commercialization of a martyr’s death.”

“You must be real fun at parties,” Jen mumbled. She shook her cigarette at you from behind the counter. “You’re just bitter because you don’t have a valentine. I can’t blame anyone for giving you the cold shoulder with that attitude of yours.”

You scowled, picking up the string of hearts that you had sent crashing to the floor. “I’m not bitter, and I don’t want a date. Also, I told you to stop smoking inside! It smells awful.”

“Last I checked, this was my shop, not yours.” You rolled your eyes as you approached the counter, handing the discarded string to Jen so she could throw it in the trash. “Now you’re making me do chores for you too? You’ve got some nerve, I’ll give you that.”

“Jen, please, I’m really not in the mood for this today.”

Jen shrugged, bending towards the trash can to throw away the string of hearts when she paused and pulled something from the bin. You glanced over your shoulder and gasped when you saw what she held in her hand—a small red envelope with your name scrawled across the front and a pink heart-shaped sticker stuck on the back.

“What’s this?” Jen asked, opening the envelope and shaking out the contents. A single slip of paper fell out, landing atop the counter. You rushed to grab it, but Jen snatched it up just before your fingers reached the countertop.

“Give me that,” You insisted, face growing warm. “I threw it away for a reason!”

“It’s an invitation to a party?” She seemed beyond surprised, glancing back and forth between you and the paper several times. “You got invited to a Valentine’s Day party, and instead of going, you asked me to give you extra hours? Why?”

You looked down at your feet, digging the toe of your sneaker into the blue carpet. There were, in fact, many reasons why you did not want to go to that party. They were as follows:

One: Choi Yeonjun was the one who had invited you. After you had rejected his offer when he asked to take you to a basketball game a month before, you could barely make eye contact with him in the school hallway without feeling guilty. That and the fact that he was one of the richest preps in the school, you knew he had just been asking you out for some sort of prank or dare that you preferred to not potentially fall victim to.

Two: you needed to work as much as you could. Money, as always, was tight for you and your father. There was no way you would sacrifice precious hours to go to a party full of rich kids where nothing but humiliation was sure to await you.

Three: your old childhood friend and the one person you couldn’t bear to see was probably going to be there—Choi Soobin.

You had barely spoken to Soobin in the four years you had been in high school. Crossing paths with him in the cafeteria, turning down the same aisle of books as him in the library, all those tiny stolen glances and accidental encounters were the only bits of interaction you had kept throughout all that time. The worst part was, he hadn’t done anything wrong.

It was nothing but your own cowardice that had driven the two of you apart, and you were still too afraid to own up to it.

Instead of explaining all of this to Jen, you simply shrugged and said, “I dunno. It just sounds lame.”

Your boss sighed, holding the invitation out towards you. “Okay, I’m letting you off early. Go to the party.”

With wide eyes, you shook your head immediately. “Absolutely not. Why in the world would I go?”

“Well, first of all, it’s a once in a lifetime opportunity for you. Who knows when your next chance to go to a party will be.”

You couldn’t help but roll your eyes at that.

“Second, it’s a holiday! The only reason I even opened today was because you were begging me for hours. I thought it was because you were bummed about having no plans, but clearly it’s because you wanted an excuse to be a recluse.”

“Hey, I’m not a recluse.”

“Clearly.” She shook the invitation at you once more, brows raised. “If you go, I’ll raise your pay by fifty cents for the next month.”

Your ears perked up at that.

“Well?” She asked, well aware that she had hit the jackpot. “What'd ya say?”

Weighing the risks against the benefits, you bit the inside of your cheek.

“Make it a dollar and you’ve got a deal.”

“HAPPY VALENTINE’S, CHOI.”

When Soobin heard the sarcastic remark coming from his best friend, Felix, he had to fight back the urge to burst into tears then and there. He still wasn’t quite sure how Felix had convinced him to come, but he was already regretting it. The last thing he wanted to do to celebrate the day dedicated to love was spend it at a house party—or, as Soobin preferred to call them, any outcast high school kid’s version of hell on earth.

With a quick peek between his fingers, which he had used to cover his eyes immediately upon arriving at the site of the Valentine’s party, Soobin caught another eye-full of couples getting all too familiar with one another out in the open. He gulped, letting his hands grip the handles of the bike as he averted his gaze, choosing to cast his best glare at Felix, who was busy adjusting his ever-present beanie.

“Shut up,” he murmured, slowly sliding off the seat of his bike. He dusted off the worn, tearing cushion, glancing around the area. “Now quick, we gotta put our stuff somewhere safe.”

Felix looked aghast, making no moves to help Soobin in his search for a hiding spot. “What are you doing?”

“Tryna find a safe place for my bike?” He thought the answer to be somewhat obvious, but clearly Felix wasn’t on the same track of thinking. “You don’t know today’s world! Anyone is willing to steal nowadays.”

“Soobin, your bike is coughing up oil from its chains. It should be in its own care home at this rate.”

“I don’t wanna hear your slander, skater boy,” Soobin retorted, eyeing Felix’s ebony skateboard that he refused to be seen without. As if on cue, when he pushed his bike forward, the chains squealed, drawing the attention of a pair of particularly passionate individuals who had been wrapped up with one another moments before. Soobin ignored their annoyed stares, feeling his ears burn from embarrassment. He glanced back to Felix. “Help me find a hiding spot.”

Felix was anything but enthusiastic, but he began to help Soobin search nonetheless.

“Slide it in here, Soobs,” Felix called a few moments later. He was pointed to an empty space between the home’s perfectly trimmed bushes. Soobin pursed his lips together, pushing his large glasses further up the bridge of his nose—a nervous tick of his. Felix groaned, rolling his eyes. “Or you can leave it out in the open so it’ll spit more oil on the passersby? Is that what you want?”

“Fine, fine!” Soobin huffed, wheeling his bike over to the shrubbery, chains squeaking all the way. He carefully laid it beneath the brush and moved a few branches to cover it up nicely. He stood up straight, dusting his hands on the front of his loose blue jeans. “What about your skateboard?”

Felix gave the board a pat, awarding his most prized possession a dazzling smile one would expect to see a proud father giving his beloved son. But in reality, it was the school’s stoner grinning ear to ear at his old, dusty skateboard. “Nightrider stays with me.”

Soobin scrunched his nose, cringing on instinct. He still calls that thing by that stupid name?

Felix clapped him on the shoulder before he could make a remark, catching him off guard when he said, “Right. Let’s go and get your girl.”

There was nothing Soobin could do to stop the flush that rushed to his cheeks right away. Images of you, his ex-best friend and the only reason he had even come to this party in the first place, flashed through his mind. Had he not overheard Yeonjun invite you earlier that morning and then casually mention the encounter to Felix, there was no way he would have even stepped foot out of his house that night. Part of him was peeved, wishing he had never uttered a single word about you to his overbearing friend. Yet, deep down, there was hope within him—the tiniest sliver.

If there was even the slightest chance that he could talk to you that night, he would do anything. Even if it meant dealing with a stupid party, and the never-ceasing teasing he was bound to continue receiving from Felix.

“Don’t even say that,” He said, emphasizing each word as they walked up the front steps. Soobin had to glance down at his much shorter friend to see the devious grin on his freckled face.

“Say what? That she’s your girl, your woman, your one and only?”

The blush must have been creeping to his neck by that point. He could feel it. “I. . .” There were many things Soobin wished to say; angry words that would hopefully shut the blonde skater boy up real quick. But he couldn’t bring himself to say a single harsh word, so he sighed in defeat. “I can’t even say it.”

“That you hate me?” Felix only grinned even bigger, and Soobin couldn’t help the tiny defeated smile that slipped over his features. “Oh, I know. It’s because I’m too good of a best friend.”

They stepped into the house then, instantly being overwhelmed by loud music, boisterous laughter, and drunken yells echoing throughout the halls. Soobin latched onto Felix right away, gripping his friend’s sleeve as someone stumbled into him, a bit of beer spilling from their cup. He pushed his glasses up, only for them to slide right back down as he began to sweat.

“Maybe we should go home, Lix!” Soobin shouted to be heard over the noise as they travelled further into the house. “We can always try next year!”

“Stop being a scaredy-cat!” Felix shouted back, and Soobin thought he might actually begin to cry as they squeezed their way into the living room. Soobin nearly gagged at the strong smell of alcohol as it burned in his nose. The scene was nothing short of a nightmare to Soobin—loud voices, smoke rising in the air, vodka assaulting his nose and sweat beading on the back of his neck. He had never been one to drink, and he didn’t plan on starting that night; but he was beginning to understand what Felix meant when he had once told him it was nearly impossible to get through one of these parties sober.

He was about to make another complaint and beg to leave when someone from the crowd hollered his name, causing him to wince when he recognized that voice as the one that belonged to none other than Choi Yeonjun.

“Soobin! Where you been?”

Soobin smiled nervously at the school’s heartthrob—and textbook snobby rich kid—before he turned back to Felix. He didn’t want to leave his friend, but he knew that he would never hear the end of it if he ignored Yeonjun’s persistent calls. “I’ll be right back,” He promised Felix, still holding onto his sleeve.

“No, no,” Felix assured. “You go. You’ll probably find her around that place anyway.”

Soobin wasn’t so sure of that. You were definitely not of the right social standing to be caught amongst the circle of the school’s rich boys—which was why it had surprised Soobin that Yeonjun had invited you to the party in the first place. Your high school had its own caste system, and you were near the bottom of it.

And, as much as it pained him to admit it, Soobin was stuck at the very top with all the other rich snobs who cared about nothing more than their daily allowances that came straight from their daddy’s bank account.

“What about you, buddy?” He asked Felix, desperate for any excuse to remain by his friend’s side. He would have tried to bring Felix with him, but his friend was in an even worse social standing than you were—he was poor, and he was most known for being the school’s pothead. There was no way Soobin would willingly drag him into a situation where nothing but slander and torment awaited him.

“Me?” Felix shrugged, gripping his board tighter. “I’ll just smoke away the night.”

Soobin pouted, glancing back at the group of preps as they called for him once again. He sighed, clapping Felix on the shoulder. “Just make sure you won’t smell too much of it when I come back.”

Submitting himself to his doom then, he turned on his heel and slowly made his way to where the group of boys sat near the sofa, giving them a half-hearted wave.

“Why were you hanging around that Felix guy?” Yeonjun asked once Soobin had reached their circle. “Did he blackmail you or something?”

Soobin frowned, pushing his hands into the pockets of his jeans. “He’s my friend.”

Yeonjun rolled his eyes, brushing a hand through his perfectly-straightened ebony locks. “Sure he is. Tell me, do you see every kid you find on the streets as some sort of personal charity project? Or is it just Felix and—what was her name—” He snapped his fingers then before he said, “Y/N, right?”

Soobin didn’t respond—well, it was more like he couldn’t respond. By nature he was a very passive being, but nothing drew him closer to bouts of anger than when the people he cared about were being insulted right before him.

Especially when it came to you.

Yet, as much as he wanted to tell Yeonjun off or give him a nice shove into the smoke-stained walls, words failed him. They always did. Perhaps this was why you had abandoned him all those years ago. Nobody knew him better than you did, so of course you were able to see what he truly was beneath all the expensive clothes and nervous laughter—a coward.

He figured that he’d probably have left himself too.

“Drink up, buttercup.” The chipper voice that belonged to the other Choi in the small gathering of socialites, Choi Beomgyu, thrust a plastic red cup towards Soobin’s chest.

He shook his head, throwing another wavering smile in his direction. “No thanks. I don’t drink.”

Yeonjun rolled his eyes. “Of course you don’t. Why are you even here then?”

Once again, Soobin chose silence as his only response. He swallowed, patting the front pocket of his denim jacket. As the group of boys began conversing once more, he couldn’t help but let his eyes wander around the room, searching every drunken face for the features that belonged to you, trying to hear your name in every conversation, desperate for your voice to break through the blasting music and shouting voices.

“Who ya looking for there, Big Choi?” Soobin grimaced at the nickname. He was skinny, but incredibly tall, and nobody would let him forget that. “Big Choi” was one of his most common nicknames among the elitists. He despised it, but of course, he would never voice that aloud.

He glanced at Beomgyu and smiled nervously again, shaking his head. “Nobody.”

His eyes met Yeonjun’s and he gulped yet again as the latter eyed him with suspicion. It wasn’t as though he had anything to hide, but something about Yeonjun’s calculating gaze made his skin crawl.

He needed to escape. Just for a moment, at least.

“I’ll be right back. Going to find some water.”

He slipped out of the living room then, apologizing profusely to each couple he accidentally bumped into, bowing in remorse to each person’s toes his big feet happened to stumble over. He ached to be by Felix’s side—the stoned skateboarder had become somewhat of a security blanket to the taller of the duo—but his blonde friend was nowhere to be seen.

After snagging a bottle of water from the kitchen, Soobin managed to slip into an empty bathroom. He slammed the door shut and wasted no time in locking it. Letting out the biggest sigh of relief, he closed his eyes and leaned his head back against the door, taking a big gulp of the ice cold water.

He set the bottle on the counter and carefully reached into the front pocket of his jacket, his fingers finding the piece of paper he had been storing there all evening. He pulled it out and let his eyes wander over his middle school creation. It was a big heart, cut out from a scrap piece of red construction paper. Scrawled across it in his eight-grade handwriting were the words, Be mine this Valentine’s! His name was etched at the bottom, and at the very top, delicately printed in hot pink glitter glue, your name was written as well.

He had planned to give this to you four years ago on Valentine’s day. Everything had been planned out perfectly; he was to pick you up on his old, trusty bike. It wasn’t really made for two people, but the two of you had fashioned a makeshift extra seat for you to sit upon whenever you went places together.

He wanted to take you to the Dairy Shack, which was the local ice cream shop where the two of you spent the most time together. You always got a large chocolate shake to share, playing a quick game of rock, paper, scissors to decide who got to eat the cherry on top. He was going to order a shake and specially ask for two cherries that time, and planned to give both of them to you before he would bravely present you with the handmade card he had spent all day working on.

However, when he waited for you outside your house that day, the red dusk turned to pitch black night, and you never stepped foot out your door.

He had even gone up to your door a few times and knocked, but there was no answer. Eventually he pedalled off into the night, back to his house. He was disappointed, of course, but more worried than anything else. He had hoped you weren’t sick.

But when he saw you at school the next day, he knew that hadn’t been the case.

And when you ignored him calling your name as you passed by him in the hallways, he knew that something had drastically changed.

For weeks, Soobin was in great turmoil as he replayed your last few encounters together before you had stood him up. Perhaps you were angry that he had won the last few games of rock, paper, scissors? If he had known, he would have given you all the cherries for the rest of time if it meant you would still talk to him. He didn’t care about them—he cared about you.

He missed you.

And as weeks turned to months, and months turned to years, you still barely spoke to him, and he missed you more and more. The best friend he had wanted to take a step closer to had taken a thousand steps back from him, and he still had no idea why.

But that night, he was determined to find out.

Well, if he could muster up the courage to get a single word out, of course.

He folded the heart back up and stuck it back in his pocket, taking a deep breath as he observed himself in the fogged-up mirror. He fixed his bright blue hair that Felix had helped him bleach and dye, making sure the pieces fell over the corners of his eyes just right. He straightened his white turtleneck and cuffed the sleeves of his denim jacket until he was at least somewhat content with his appearance.

“You can do this, Soobs,” He told himself, adjusting his big round glasses further up the bridge of his nose. “That’s what Felix would say.”

“Hey, rich boy!” A loud scream came from outside the bathroom door, accompanied by harsh knocking that sent Soobin stumbling backwards until he fell in the shower, pulling the curtains down with him.

“Hurry up in there! I’m about to piss myself!”

Soobin let out a shaky sigh, scrambling to his feet as he rushed to fix the curtain he had torn down with his clumsiness. “Sorry,” he mumbled, though he doubted the person on the other side of the door could hear him.

He realized then with an ever growing dread that it would be a miracle if he survived the night long enough to even find you, but it would take the work of God himself for him to actually speak to you.

He figured it was time for him to start praying.

YOU KNEW IT WAS A MISTAKE TO LET JEN DO YOUR MAKEUP.

When she had stopped you on your way out the door with a compact of bright purple eyeshadow, you had turned her down right away. No way in all of creation were you walking in a party with such an atrocious color caked up to your brow bone.

“How can you say it’s gonna look bad if you haven’t even let me try?” Jen had asked.

You had given her a once-over, your lips pressed into a thin line. “If it’s gonna look anything like the way you do your own makeup, I’m gonna have to pass.”

After that snide remark, she had threatened to fire you if you didn’t let her apply the makeup. And so you obliged, though you didn’t have much of a choice.

The booming sounds of the party hit your ears before you had even reached the lawn. Screaming teens—well, there were probably some adults thrown in there as well—and the sound of music spilled through the open windows of the home. Couples and singles alike were scattered throughout the perfectly kept lawn that was now littered with empty cups and other assortments of garbage.

You looked down at your patchwork jeans and pink sweater, certain that you would be underdressed compared to the rest of the partygoers. But from the looks of things, as you carefully squeezed your way through the front door and into the home, everyone was probably too wasted to even notice your arrival, let alone care about your looks.

You caught a glimpse of your face in the hallway mirror, cringing at the sight of your eyeshadow. You had tried to wipe some of it away before arriving, but it simply smudged, giving you quite the shocking smoky, purple eye look. For someone who didn’t even know the difference between a paintbrush and a makeup brush, it was a bold look, to say the least.

If Soobin saw you looking like this, he’d probably have a heart attack.

Soobin.

In the midst of all your frantic preparation, you had nearly forgotten about the main reason why you had planned to avoid this party at all costs. With a quick glance around the room, you realized that he was nowhere to be seen. You wouldn’t have been surprised if he hadn’t shown up at all. He was never a fan of parties, anyway.

You crossed your arms over your chest and slowly slipped past the couples crowding the hallway with their limbs intertwined, mouths practically swallowing one another whole, until you reached the living room. Surprisingly, it was less crowded in here than you thought it might be. A few minglers were scattered about the room’s perimeter, but they all kept away from the center of the room, which was occupied by none other than Choi Yeonjun and all his brainless, rich-boy worshippers. You quickly scanned the group, not able to make out Soobin among them. When you realized he wasn’t there, you were partly relieved and partly disappointed. If was to be anywhere at this party, it would probably be with these guys.

With a quick turn on your heel, you planned to make your way out of the living room before Yeonjun could see you. The last thing you wanted was for the boy with a bruised ego to see you, regardless of whether or not he had been the one to invite you.

“Y/N? You came?”

Too late.

Plastering a forced grin to your face, you slowly turned to face Yeonjun, who had just called your name. He was eyeing you with slight surprise, but soon, a smirk slipped across his lips as he motioned for you to come over. You had to hold back your sigh, wishing there was some way for you to get out of this situation. It was all Jen’s fault that you had to show up in the first place. You decided you were going to demand an extra ten cents be added to your raise the next time you saw your pushy boss.

“Hey Yeonjun,” you said once you had walked over to him. “I figured I’d stop by for a minute or two, since you were kind enough to invite me.”

He smirked, glancing at a few of his friends. They shared a knowing laugh with one another, but the meaning of it was lost to you. You wanted nothing more than to get away from them, but that wasn’t an option.

“You’re too busy to go out with me to a basketball game but free enough to come to a party, huh?” He asked.

You blinked, digging your nails into your arms. “I’m sorry?”

“It’s fine, really,” He drawled, swirling his plastic cup of beer in his hand. “You didn’t think I’d be upset or anything did you? I only asked you out because I was dared to shack up with you. But I’m guessing you already knew that, since you’re so smart and all.”

Your eyes went wide, but you managed to control the rest of your expression. It was just like you had guessed—Yeonjun had invited you to the party with the sole purpose of making a scene.

If you survived the night, Jen was never going to hear the end of it.

“You’re not gonna say anything?” He asked, pushing himself to his feet. You could tell by the slight stumble in his step and his hooded eyes that he had quite a bit to drink. He took a step towards you, causing you to back up immediately. Your back hit the wall, and you placed your palms against it as Yeonjun towered over you.

“It’s okay, sweetheart. I know why you’re here anyways.” He leaned forward, his lips hovering near your ear. “You’re here to see Soobin, aren’t you? Since he’s the only one here willing to waste his time on filth like you.”

Your blood boiled, and you had to clench your fists at your sides to control your anger.

“Don’t,” You seethed, “Call me that.”

“Call you what? Filth? Or sweetheart? Why, is that something good old Binnie used to call you—”

He never got to finish that sentence, because with one big burst of anger, you stomped on his toe as hard as you could with your worn-out platform sneaker.

“What the hell!” He screeched, drawing the attention of several others in the room. His outburst even caused a few of the couples to pull away from each other’s faces long enough to eavesdrop.

Before you could even say anything back, lukewarm liquid was splashed up in your face, burning your eyes and nose. You gasped, running your hands over your eyes to see Yeonjun with his now empty cup of beer pointed towards you.

“Think twice before you act out against me next time, sweetheart. Never forget your place.”

Tears of anger burned in your eyes, and you scanned the room to see several people exchanging whispers and giggles as they glanced in your direction. You pushed past Yeonjun and quickly made your way out the back door of the house, unable to stand the humiliation for a moment longer.

Soobin arrived in the living room just in time to see you leave.

He wasted no time in rushing towards Yeonjun, grabbing hold of his arm. “Yeonjun, was that Y/N?” He asked, eyes quickly taking in the puddle of alcohol on the floor and the empty cup in Yeonjun’s hand. “What happened?”

“Nothing you need to worry your pretty blue head about, Big Choi. I just put her in her place is all.”

Soobin’s eyes narrowed. “What do you mean you ‘put her in her place?’”

Yeonjun laughed, giving Soobin a nonchalant pat on the back. “Just drop it, would you? It has nothing to do with you.”

“What did you say, Yeonjun?”

Yeonjun was growing irritated now. He huffed out a breath, crossing his arms over his chest. “I said it has nothing to do with you, Soobin. I know you like to hang around people like that pothead Felix, but the rest of us live in the real world, where we’d rather not waste our time with those who have no future anyways. I bet he’s the one that got you to dye your hair that god awful blue, isn’t he?”

Soobin bit the inside of his cheek. He so badly wished to rip Yeonjun to shreds then and there. If he had Felix’s courage, the cocky bastard would have been knocked to the ground ages ago. But if there was one thing Soobin was sure he could never be, it was brave. And so, despite his rage, he remained silent, his eyes practically burning a hole through Yeonjun’s chest from how intently he was glaring.

It seemed as though Yeonjun was about to say something, but his eyes landed on the bit of red that peeked through the front pocket of Soobin’s denim jacket. Before Soobin had time to defend himself, Yeonjun had reached forward and snatched it from his pocket, revealing the large paper heart—his valentine for you.

“So this is why you care so much,” Yeonjun said, laughing as his eyes scanned the glittery words that decorated the page. “You want her to be your valentine.”

“Give that back,” Soobin said quietly, his hands beginning to shake.

Yeonjun instead lifted his eyes to Soobin, gave him a sickly sweet grin, and ripped the heart straight down the middle. He let the two pieces fall from his hands to the ground, and with them Soobin’s heart went also.

“You’re really willing to try and go against me, and for what? For the sake of a girl who can’t even afford a new pair of jeans and a boy that smokes his life away in the bathroom stalls?” Yeonjun took a slow step towards Soobin, his eyes glinting with a sinister determination. “You may be rich, Soobin, but if you choose to lower yourself to their standards, you may as well be dirt poor just like they are.”

With his hands clenched into tight fists, his glasses sliding down his nose, and his heart quite literally in two pieces on the floor below him, Soobin decided that he had had enough.

“I’d much rather be associated with people who are kind and have actual depth to their character than be lumped together with a bunch of pricks like you with no real personality—because that’s something you can’t buy with daddy’s paycheck.”

He had to physically restrain himself from slapping his hand across his own mouth in shock. It was as if the spirit of Felix himself had possessed him to say such harsh things. He wondered where Felix was then, wishing more than ever before to have his best friend by his side as he began to tremble from either the rush of adrenaline that coursed through his veins, or from fear. Or perhaps it was both.

He didn’t have time to ponder it any longer before Yeonjun’s fist collided with his nose, resulting in a sickening crack as pain echoed throughout his face in tidal waves.

He stumbled backward as people began to shout, raising his hand to his nose and gasping when he saw that his palm was covered in blood.

Beomgyu had his arms wrapped around Yeonjun, who was desperately trying to lunge towards Soobin once again.

“Knock it off, Yeonjun!” Beomgyu shouted, pushing the elder back. “His dad is on the school board! Are you trying to get expelled?”

Beomgyu looked over his shoulder at the still stunned Soobin, who was gaping at the blood that now stained his once white turtleneck.

“Get lost, Soobin,” Beomgyu said, to which Soobin only blinked in reply, his ears ringing.

“Now!”

Head spinning, Soobin picked up the two halves of his paper heart, stuffed them into his jeans, and stumbled out the same door he had seen you go through just minutes before. After checking to make sure his glasses were still intact—they were, thankfully—he shook his head in an effort to clear his mind of the static, eyes scanning the front lawn looking for any trace of you.

It didn’t take long for his eyes to spot you among the now dwindling crowd of partygoers. Your bright pink sweater stood out against the darkness, so he was able to recognize you even with your back towards him. He sniffed, wiping the back of his hand against his dripping nose as he slowly made his way to where you sat on the curb, your feet planted on the asphalt street. He wished that he looked a bit more presentable—when he played this scene out in his head over the years in which he would finally reunite with you, he never imagined himself dazed and covered in blood.

Desperate times called for desperate measures, he supposed.

When he reached you, he simply stood beside you in silence for a moment, unsure of what to say. He could tell that you sensed his presence, but you refused to look up at him as you kept your face buried in your hands. He could have sworn he heard a few muffled sobs slip through your fingers, but of course, he wasn’t going to bring that up.

Eventually he decided to slip his jacket off of his shoulders, leaning down to drape it over you. You still kept your head down as he sat beside you on the curb, but he watched you grip the jacket and pull it tighter around your body. He smiled a bit, holding the collar of his turtleneck against his throbbing nose.

“Thank you,” you muttered, wiping your hand across your eyes. You finally looked over at him, and when you did, you couldn’t hold back your gasp. “My God Soobin, what happened to your face?”

“Oh, well, I might have gotten punched,” He said quickly, trying to wave off your concern. “Don’t worry about it.”

“Punched? By who?”

He looked down at the ground, sniffing as a drop of blood hit the pavement. “Yeonjun,” he muttered under his breath.

“I’m sorry, did you just say Yeonjun? Are you insane? Why on earth would you butt heads with the Choi Yeonjun?”

Soobin didn’t say anything in response, he simply stared at you, eyes wide with beer dripping off the ends of your hair, makeup smeared across your face, your sweater stained down the front. It didn’t seem to take long for you to put the pieces together, as the shock left your face and was replaced with something akin to guilt.

“Oh,” You said, looking back down at your shoes.

“So she knows that I did it all for her,” Soobin thought.

For some reason, the idea of that both terrified and excited him.

A second later, he glanced over to see you ripping one of the hand-sewed patches of fabric off your jeans, leaving a square of your skin exposed to the chilly night air. You leaned towards him, pushing his hand away from his nose so you could use the patch to clean up some of the blood on and around his puffy red nose.

“Y/N, your pants!” He exclaimed, trying to push your hand away. “They’re ruined!”

“I’m not worried about my pants, you idiot,” You said, swatting his hand away as you continued to press the cloth against his skin. “You got punched in the face because of me, this is the least I could do.”

“That was my choice though,” He muttered, although he stopped trying to resist your touch. He ignored the way his heart thrummed harder in his chest, hoping that you couldn’t hear.

“Well, this is my choice too.” Your eyes flicked to his for a brief moment, your bottom lip pulled between your teeth. “Why did you do it, by the way?”

“Do what?”

“Stand up to Yeonjun for me and get a nasty nosebleed as a result.”

“Oh.” He blinked slowly, keeping his eyes fixed on yours. “Just ‘cause.”

“Because . . . ?”

“Because of you.” He blurted, causing your hand to go still against him. He swallowed his fear, braving the best smile that he could. “Just you. That was my only reason.”

You didn’t say anything as your hand fell from his face, the cloth clutched between your fingers. The anxiety he had tried his best to suppress came rushing up all at once, and he was surprised that his ears didn’t begin to squeal like a tea kettle from all the pressure.

“Y/N,” He said, gently placing his hand over yours despite how his fingers trembled. “Why did you pull away from me?”

“What?”

“Four years ago. Why did you stop talking to me?”

You were quiet for a moment, digging into the ground with the toe of your sneaker. Soobin held his breath until you finally replied with, “I was afraid.”

“Afraid? Of what?”

“We were getting older, Binnie,” You said, and his heart skipped at the use of your old nickname for him. “You and I, we’re from very different walks of life. You get to hang out with people like Yeonjun, whereas I get a cup of beer poured all over my face just for existing, and you get a fist to the nose for trying to stand up for me. We’re from different sides of the track, one might say.”

“So?” Soobin asked, his hand tightening around yours. “Did you really think that would affect us that much, Y/N?”

You frowned, glancing down at his hand over yours.

“I thought you’d be embarrassed of me,” You said, your voice barely above a whisper.

“Embarrassed?” Soobin’s eyes went wide as he gripped your hand tighter still, pulling it into his lap. “Y/N, I would never, ever be embarrassed of you. Besides, have you seen my best friend? He’s on a first name basis with the principal because of how often he gets written up for smoking behind the school. If I’m not embarrassed of him, why would I ever be embarrassed of you?”

You laughed, wiping the back of your hand across your eyes once more. “I guess I was worried about nothing, huh?” You sniffed, giving his hand a squeeze. “I’m sorry, Soobin.”

He shook his head, squeezing your hand right back. “Don’t apologize. You’re here now, that’s what matters. Do think we could—you know—”

“Pick up where we left off?” You smiled, nodding vigorously. “I’d like that very much, Binnie.”

He beamed then, almost pinching himself to be sure that he was not dreaming, but the pain in his nose was real enough to remind him of that on its own. He jumped to his feet, pulling you right up with him.

“In that case, how about we finally go on that Valentine’s date I had planned all the way back then?”

“Date?” You asked, a brow raised. “Is it really considered a date if two friends are just hanging out?”

He didn’t respond as he pulled you along behind him towards the bushes where he and Felix had hidden his bike. He crouched down and moved the branches aside, feeling his heart drop to his stomach when he realized that his bike was, in fact, no longer there.

He shot up, turning to face you with eyes wide. “Felix—that bastard took my bike!”

You were quiet for a moment, but then, you burst into boisterous laughter, leaving Soobin utterly confused.

“It’s not funny, Y/N!” He whined, shoving your shoulder lightly. “I was supposed to take you to the Dairy Shack on my bike!”

“It is funny,” You said between bursts of laughter. “Only you would get such a rusty old piece of metal stolen from you.”

He pushed his lips out in a pout, sliding his glasses up his sore nose. “It’s a good bike, don’t make fun of it.”

You grinned, interlocking his fingers with yours, which was enough to instantly wipe the pout right off his face.

“Let’s just walk, Binnie. The Dairy Shack isn’t that far anyways.”

You were right; the walk to your favorite milkshake place was very close to the house where the party had occurred. Although Felix stealing his bike had thrown an obvious wrench in his plans, it was a minor hiccup, and one he could most definitely handle. Besides, he wouldn’t have to see Felix until the next day anyways. He could deal with his frustration then.

At least, that’s what he thought anyways, until the two of you spotted Felix at the skatepark on your way to the dairy shack.

Soobin’s eyes took in the deplorable sight before him—from where he stood on the dimly lit sidewalk, he could see Felix and a girl he had never seen before, their faces nearly pressed together, and most importantly, with his bike discarded a few yards away from them.

“Soobin,” You said, tugging on his arm. “They look like they’re busy, let’s just go—”

But Soobin, who had little patience when it came to Felix messing up his plans, didn’t let you finish before he screamed, “Give me back my freaking bike!”

You had to hold back your snort of laughter at his choice of words. Even when he was trying to sound angry, he was undeniably adorable.

Soobin watched as Felix startled, clutching his spliff between his fingers as he glared daggers back at his friend. Soobin gulped, trying not to let his fear show on his face. What did he have to be afraid of, anyways? He was the victim of thievery, and his best friend was the offender.

Felix took a big step towards him, but he paused, his eyes landing on your interlocked hands. Soobin glanced down as well, his face growing furiously warm as he realized the situation he had gotten himself into.

He decided to divert the subject before it could even be brought up by saying, “I can’t believe you stole my bike! All this time I was trying to hide it from strangers, but you, my best friend! I should’ve been hiding it from you!”

Soobin noticed Felix’s female companion step off the skateboard and walk over in his direction, and for a second he felt bad for possibly ruining her night with his best friend. However, his frustration was more prominent in the moment as he fixed his gaze back on his best friend, who had fixed a mischievous smirk upon his face that made warning sirens blare in Soobin’s head right away.

“Now, now, buddy,” Felix said, his voice calm and carefree as ever. It probably had something to do with what he had just smoked, but Soobin didn’t care all that much. “You’re just gonna have to let me borrow it for a little longer.”

Soobin nearly laughed at the audacity of such a statement. “You are gonna give me the bike, or—”

“How about this, Soobs?” Soobin’s lips clamped shut at his friend’s interruption, as the thief in question gestured with his joint to where Soobin’s fingers were locked with yours. “You let me keep your bike for the night, and I don’t tell your dad about you hanging out with the opposite gender.”

Unable to control yourself, you let out a big laugh. Soobin would have felt betrayed, but he was more terrified than anything else at the idea of his father finding out that he was taking a girl out without his permission. He would be grounded for weeks—no, months.

“You wouldn’t.”

Felix’s lips curled up even more into a twisted grin that Soobin wished he had the guts to slap off his face. “God, just imagine the look on Mr. Choi’s face. Imagine him finding out about your premarital hand holding.”

No. Not the hand holding.

Soobin almost felt faint, but he steeled himself to the best of his abilities as he cleared his throat. “One night, Lix,” he warned. “If I don’t see it on my porch in the morning, you’ll be sorry!”

“Oh, I’m so scared,” Felix teased. His expression changed a moment later though, when he finally noticed Soobin’s swollen nose and blood-stained turtleneck. “Wait, Soobs, the hell happened to you?”

Soobin, however, had already taken his first steps away from the skatepark, pulling you along behind him. “I’ll tell you later, bud. Enjoy your spliff with that kind girl who you probably don’t deserve!”

“Hey!”

Soobin couldn’t help but laugh as he swung your interlocked hands together, grinning as you let out a laugh as well. The anger that had seeped through him seemed to melt away in an instant as the two of you continued your journey to the Dairy Shack.

“Would your dad really be that upset if he found out about this?” You asked.

Soobin grimaced. “We should probably wait til next year to tell him about this outing. Or maybe the year after that.”

When the two of you had finally reached the Dairy Shack, you waited outside for him while he went in to order your drink. A large chocolate milkshake, with two straws, just like you used to get every time before.

When he had the drink in hand, he walked back outside and sat down beside you on the curb, smiling as you wrapped his jacket tighter around your shoulders. You smiled back up at him, your eyes creasing from the expression. Your smile had always struck him right to his core; he had missed seeing it every day.

He hoped he could see it every morning and every night from that day onward. There was no way he would let you go this time.

He just had to muster up the courage to grab hold of you first.

“You know what, Binnie, you turned out to be a lot taller than I thought you ever would be,” you said as you took one of the straws from his hands. “You’re actually enormous. It’s shocking.”

“Should I find that offensive? It sounds kinda like an insult.”

“Take it however you will,” You teased, leaning over as he popped the plastic lid off the milkshake. He grabbed the cherry by the stem and held it towards you.

“What are you doing?” You asked, holding out your fist. “We have to rock, paper, scissors for it. Remember?”

Soobin laughed as he shook his head. “I’m giving it to you this time. It’s what I planned to do all those years ago, when I asked you to hang out on Valentine’s.”

You seemed to be taken aback, but you simply shrugged as you plucked the cherry from his hand and pulled it from the stem with your teeth, glancing back over at him. It was silent for a moment, but then your eyes landed on the pocket of his jeans, where you could see a bit of red paper poking out. You leaned over even further, reaching your hand out to snatch the paper.

“What are you—hey! Give that back!”

Soobin desperately tried to take his Valentine back from you, but it was too late. You held both halves of what used to be a whole in your hands, your eyes scanning the words as you pieced them together.

“Soobin . . .”

He held his breath. Had his act of young love left you completely speechless? Were you so touched that you would burst into tears?

“This looks like a middle schooler made it.”

He let out the breath in the form of a long, long sigh.

“That’s because it was made by a middle schooler,” He said as he set the milkshake down beside him. “I made it back in the eighth grade. I planned to give it to you that Valentine’s.”

“Oh.” You ran your finger along the card’s surface, the smallest smile creeping across your lips. “Well in that case, it’s not half bad. Why’s it ripped though?”

“Ah—well, Yeonjun . . .”

You nodded, taking another glance at his swollen nose. “No need to elaborate. It seems you had a lot planned for our Valentine’s Day back then. Is there anything else you wanted to do?”

His mouth went dry at that, and he wished that you couldn’t see his face because he was sure that his expression was quite comical. All the way back then, four years prior, he had in fact planned the perfect, ideal day in his head. Picking you up on his bike, giving you the cherry from his milkshake, and presenting you with his hand made card.

There was only one thing left on his list.

He didn’t move at first, willing himself to have enough courage to even look back in your direction. But when he finally did allow his eyes to meet yours, he felt his shoulders relax and his heart rate became more manageable.

He took a deep breath, leaned forward, and pressed his lips against your cheek.

He lingered there for only a moment before he pulled back, daring to pry one of his eyes open to take in the look on your face.

The disappointment was palpable—from the way your brows furrowed together and the way you pursed your lips. His stomach dropped, and he scooted the tiniest bit away from you.

“I’m sorry,” He blurt out, his face growing warmer by the second. “I shouldn’t have done that, I just—”

“Is that all?”

Your question stopped him mid-ramble, his eyes growing wide. “Huh?”

“Is that all?” You repeated, closing the distance between you that he had created. “It’s Valentine’s Day, Soobin. I think we can do better than a peck on the cheek.”

The implications of what you were saying didn’t register with him right away, but when it finally did, he could have sworn his heart began to beat loud enough for the entire town to hear. His hand curled into a fist as he gripped the denim of his jeans. He leaned forward, keeping his eyes open just enough to watch you as he brought his lips closer to yours. He could feel your eyes on him all the while, causing his heart to pound fiercer still within him.

When he was just a breath away, he whispered, “Can you close your eyes?”

“Hm?”

He lifted his hand, gently placing it over your eyes. He leaned closer then, filling the space between you both as his lips met yours. You tasted vaguely of cherry and strawberry slice soda, and he found it quite nice the way his lips seemed to fit perfectly against your own. As the seconds drew on, your hands slipped around his neck, pulling him closer. He slowly let his hand fall from your eyes, tracing lines with the tips of his fingers down your cheek before he cradled your jaw, letting his lips part just enough to taste the sweet sugar on your lips once more.

He thought in a haze that it was a good thing he didn’t drink anything at the party, as kissing you was proving to be intoxicating enough on its own.

When you finally pulled away, leaving your forehead resting against his, he let his eyes flutter open enough to see the euphoric smile that adorned your features. He grinned as well, gently running his thumb against your cheek.

“I think that back then, I had planned to ask you this before kissing you,” He whispered, “But Y/N, will you be my Valentine?”

Instead of a spoken answer, you laughed, leaning forward to capture his lips with yours once again, and that was the only answer Choi Soobin would ever need.

WHEN SOOBIN ARRIVED HOME THAT NIGHT, HE WENT STRAIGHT FOR THE TELEPHONE.

It was kept upstairs at night right outside his parent’s door, to keep himself and his brother from using it in the late hours. Of course, this never stopped Soobin from sneaking it downstairs to his room in the basement to make late night calls to Felix.

And that particular evening, he really needed to give Felix an update.

He grabbed the phone from the small table in the hallway, carefully tiptoeing towards the basement stairs. Before he had even taken the first step down, the bathroom door creaked open. Soobin whipped his head around to see his brother Kai standing there, rubbing the sleep from his eyes as he raised a brow at his older brother.

Soobin froze, blinking slowly as he realized the incriminating situation he found himself in.

“Please don’t tell mom,” He whispered, his eyes pleading with his younger brother.

Kai nodded, although Soobin wasn’t quite convinced that the boy was even coherent enough to understand what was going on. Soobin offered a rushed thank you, and ventured his first step down the stairs.

Well, he tried, anyways, and ended up missing the first step. He tumbled down the rest of the stairs, landing on his butt at the very end.

He winced in pain, glad to see that the phone was still intact in his hands. He glanced over his shoulders to see Kai staring down the stairway with wide eyes, his lips parted in shock. Soobin quickly put a finger to his lips, begging his brother for silence.

Kai simply shook his head and walked away, allowing Soobin the freedom to breathe out a sigh of relief.

He quickly ran to his bedroom and shut the door, collapsing onto his bed with the phone as his breaths came in ragged gasps as an aftereffect from his tumble down the stairs. He figured he should have dialed Felix’s number right away, but he couldn’t help but brush his fingers against his lips, remembering the feeling and taste of having yours pressed against them.

He was so caught up in his daze that he didn’t notice Felix calling until the third ring.

He picked it up, breathing heavily into the speaker as he rubbed a sore spot on his lower back.

“Please tell me that panting is from running a marathon, and not what I think you’ve successfully tried.”

Soobin nearly gagged, holding the phone away from his face as he coughed, flustered by his friend's crude words. He brought the phone back to his face and said, “No, you sicko, I just fell down the stairs.”

“How the hell did you manage that with those long legs?”

“That’s not important, Lix!” He laid back onto his pillows then, twirling the phone cord in his hands as he stared up at his ceiling, the memories of his adventure with you that night flooding his mind once more. He couldn’t help but smile from ear to ear as he said, “Look, I need to tell you something important.”

If he didn’t know any better, he would have thought that he could hear the smile in Felix’s voice too as his friend replied.

“Well buddy, I got something to tell you too.”

1K notes · View notes

junova · 3 years

Text

↬ 𝐬𝐚𝐟𝐞𝐭𝐲 𝐧𝐞𝐭 | 𝐬. 𝐫𝐨𝐠𝐞𝐫𝐬

abstract: the one where steve finds your love letters.

pairing: au!steve x fem!reader

word count: 3K+

warnings: cussing, fluff, angst, crying, slight self-deprecation.

[author’s note]: hey guys! i’m really new to the writing scene so kind words are appreciated! srsly just testing my writing style out and wanted to just post something to motivate me to keep writing. hope u like it. <3

also thank u ari for the inspo and that bomb ass album that saved twenty-twenty. now we just need biden to get elected.

ps. don’t forget to vote! <3

Stevie,

First and foremost, I want you to know how proud of you I am. You have become the man you’ve said you become, the one I always knew you would. You have finally seen what the rest of us see.

A good man.

The soul you carry within you shines brighter than I’ve ever seen. Just for that only, I’m thankful for the time we’ve spent together. Maybe one day, I’ll be brave enough to tell you this without hiding behind the comfort of this notebook. She won’t spill my secrets, fortunate for me.

Some days you have no idea how badly I want to tell you. I think it’s on the days I discover a new fleck of green in your eyes or maybe when you show up to class with a cup of coffee for me without request.

More. More. More.

It’s selfish of me, that much I know. More days than not, I would say you give too much of yourself away. Always wanting to appease everyone, you, Steven Rogers, the bridge to making the people around you happier than they walked in. Even when Bucky drags you into his nonsense bullshit, you say yes without hesitation.

I’ve got not a a clue on how you continue on, how you still remain you when you tend to spread yourself so thin. Who watches out for you? Who cares for you? Who loves the almighty, selfless Rogers?

For me, it’s much easier to pretend you carry too much on your plate than to deal with the rejection I would receive from you. You’re just too good, more than I deserve. More than I would be willing to take. I know I couldn’t possibly give you what you deserve but, I hope that one day you might see me differently. You would see me more than the light I’ve painted myself in.

Even though the shade is lovely, I want to be deeper. Deeper into you on a level which only seems unattainable at this point.

A forever friend. To be in your life, just as a friend, is an reward in itself.

But someday I hope you would love me in the same way I do. It’s all a love struck girl could do. Hope for the best, bet be prepared for the downfall.

With much love, your forever friend.

Tearing the page away from the binding of the overfilled notebook, dispensing it in the first empty drawer you could find, you abandoned the feelings as soon as the pen’s ink bleed out dry.

“You know it would just be easier to tell him how you feel.” You peaked up at the sound of her voice, before realizing she was looming over you, watching your write the letter.

Your supposed, secret letter.

“Nat, please. No.” Opening the drawer, she grabbed the letter but was surprised with just how many she found.

“You’ve got to be kidding me. You’ve written about him multiple times?” You sank in the soft, plush material of your seat hoping that just maybe it would begin to swallow you whole. Hopefully, fast enough were you wouldn’t have to endure the rest of the conversation. One you had been trying to avoid, for the past three years.

“It’s nothing Nat, just forget it.” Just like a Romanov, she couldn’t leave it alone. Even if she tried it was laced in her blood to see any little thing through.

“You really shouldn’t wait so long. A window might close for you, much sooner than you think.” With a curious eyebrow lifted, you felt your breath leave you.

“What does that supposed to mean?” Steve certainly deserved the best and you knew it was only time for him to figure out you would never be enough for him.

“Peggy Carter.” Peggy.

The one girl of a sea of many who had been enamored by Steve. He never really seemed to spend anytime with the women who vied for his attention, but Peggy was surely different than the rest.

Even if Steve was oblivious when it came to the advances everyone would make on him, he saw Peggy. Considering she was the most beautiful woman you had ever seen, she intimidated you. God, did she ever.

On numerous occasions she and Steve had gone out, and even though he assured you they were just friends you were starting to believe he was only trying to protect your feelings. As a friend.

He had never cancelled on you once for her and he would tell you if he had started to date someone, just like he had before.

Even though the entire three years you’d known him he only had one serious girlfriend and after eight months, the pair broke up and even now he still didn’t budge on why they broke up.

“Steve can do whatever he wants with her. He’s a single man. He’s gone out with her before and he’ll probably go with her again.” Then Sam was the next to speak up, dismissing the total bullshit spouting from your mouth.

“Can’t you see he doesn’t want to? The damn man follows you around like a goddamn puppy.” Okay, when did he even come in here?

“God, fuck, no he doesn’t. He would have said something by now, he’s had three years and it’s been nothing but radio silence.” With an all knowing smirk, Sam proposed a new concept into question.

“It has been three years. So, have you ever said anything to him?”

Shit. Fuck you, Wilson.

“W-Well, not exactly.” Sam didn’t have to say anything in response. You knew he was right and you hated it.

Your unwillingness still stood for you, there was just no way he actually would reciprocate your feelings.

“Listen, I think it would be really good for the both of you to air everything out. Peggy is sinking her claws in him and it isn’t too long before they get stuck. Just talk to him.” You nodded silently, but you weren’t sure if you’d ever have the courage to.

—

Emptiness.

It’s all you seemed to feel today. Following you around was a dark cloud, looming over you. Wishing you could be anywhere but your own body. Nothing in particular happened to make you deserve the feeling you were granted with. It just so happened to be one of those days.

From the moment you got out of bed — or rather stayed in bed until four in the afternoon, you felt like anything you would have done just didn’t feel enough. The feeling was fleeting, never staying for more than a day or so, but it made the day drag on. Never ending.

Your muscles sore, body aching from the lack of activity your presumed. Or maybe you had built it in your head too.

Thankfully for you, Nat was busy helping Bucky move into his new place the entire day. She asked if you wanted to help, but mentally you didn’t feel you would be useful for anyone. Simply, telling her you would hang back, claiming you had another an essay to write.

Which you did, you weren’t completely lying, but there was more than your sour mood to blame for your dismissal of social interaction.

You hated to be that girl, the one who needed the presence of men. Specifically, the company of one very beautiful, blue eyed one.

His absence in your life the past few weeks felt heavier on you than you thought it would. You knew from Sam’s intel he had been hanging out with Peggy more and more. He said the two of them were getting close, mercifully sparing you the details.

You hated it’s you’d become. A girl so damn struck over a boy who was giving his attention elsewhere. Upset you were though. Before even if he was busy between classes and his internship at the gallery, he would still text to check up on you.

Now, it was nothing but radio silence letting you draw conclusions on your own. Very, very dangerous territory for you to travel to.

Steve and you are just friends. Get. Over. It.

You thought you’d be alone the rest of the Saturday, especially since it was nearly midnight. Figuring Nat was staying over at Bucky’s and Wanda leaving earlier in early hours of the morning to see her boyfriend for the entire weekend.

Then, an incredibly drunk Steve stumbled into your quaint apartment, the thoughtfully sweetness in him blubbering out with the alcohol flooding through his system. It was like he was on overdrive. More than ready to crash at any given moment.

You had enough when Steve started shamelessly raiding your kitchen, but you remained on the couch attempting to maintain some distance between the two of you. He had a history of being incredibly handsy whenever he had bit too much to drink.

Stumbling his way over to you, almost tripping on the rug, until he was basically cuddling up to your side. His arms latched tightly around you, pulling you into him. Not spared a choice, not that you’d want one.

The security of being wrapped up to him wasn’t something you ever grew tired of. You don’t think there would ever be a time you would ever be capable of turning him away.

“I’ve missed you. It’s been too long.” His soft tone, penetrating the tiny resistance you held towards him. “Me too. I was starting to think you disappeared on me, bubba.”

“Never.” His iron grip holding so tight like he was afraid you’d slip right through.

“Is everything alright?” Trying to pull from him, but Steve seemed unable to let you go. You whispered in his ear, caressing his back.

“I think so.”

“Here, let me grab you cup of joe and some water. Okay? I’ll be right back.” Leaving him a kiss on the cheek, before heading him into the kitchen.

If you had been around him recently, perhaps you would be more in tune with how he was feeling. Then the guilt sept in.

“Sweetheart, do you know where the phone charger is? It’s not by the recliner.” You heard him shout, trying to stop your heart from hammering into your stomach.

Just make him some coffee, sober him up, until he crashes.

Steve always seemed to be a lightweight and somehow whenever he did decide to drink he always found himself routing his way into your home. You thought it was simply for accident alone. The bar he frequented at was only a few block from you.

The past few times he would just stumble into your bedroom, immediately passing out in your soft, silky sheet. Now, he seemed to have more pressing matters at hand.

“Check the drawers, Stevie. I think there’s one you left around here somewhere.” You grabbed the filters and the grounds out, brewing the coffee. Soon, with a black cup of coffee and a water bottle in hand you took note of just how quite he was being.

He was never this silent and it was freaking you out.

“Are you sure you’re o-”

Just like that.

Fuck.

Hunched over, practically on his knees, he read over the endless letters you wrote about him. Confessions never meant to be seen by him. You lost track of how many you had written over the past few years once realized how irrevocably in love with him you are.

He didn’t realize you had found him and you were suddenly paralyzed. Unaware of your presence he continued to read through them and his expression was unrecognizable. One you’d never seen from him before, and you didn’t quite know how to react.

No. He wasn’t grimacing nor did he seem to be elated either. He just stood there just like you, afraid what would happen next.

What did this mean for the two of you? Your entire relationship was purely riding on whatever happened next.

Softly, with a gentle hand, he sifted through them all like he was looking for something specifically. Steve let them fall to the hardwood floors as your shaking hands could no longer support the weight of the dainty coffee cup he had actually sculpted himself.

The glass shattering everywhere, several pieces making their way towards him, thankfully not fiercely enough to penetrate his skin.

Truly, you had never been more sorry than when he looked up at you with tears in his eyes. Threatening to spill over. Because of you.

You didn’t have to be told, you already knew.

Carefully, Steve stood up making his way over to you around the shattered mug. Still you couldn’t bring yourself to move. Simply just watching him until he was right in front of you — more silent than you’d ever seen him before.

“Those were about me. Weren’t they?” You nodded having no reason to lie other than to protect yourself from a rejection you been hoping to spare yourself from.

“I didn’t want you to find out like this. Or at all really.” Your resolve dropping instantly when Steve took a step further gripping by your hips, pulling you closer.

“Why not?” He questioned you, again. Almost like he needed a verbal affirmation of every secret he had just read.

Unintentionally, stealing your soul served for him on a silver platter.

“I know how you’d feel about me, Steve. It’s not how I want it to be and it’s okay.” You remove yourself from him, traveling to the other side of the living room. Suddenly, the apartment seemed suffocating with him in it. “I’m fine, Steve.”

Hearing him sigh in frustration only furthered your immense feeling of being a burden to him.

You’re just one more obstacle he has to deal with.

“One of them dated back for over two years ago. Two fucking years.” His harsh tone, piercing through you like a knife.

“I know. I should have told you.” You whispered, wishing you could disappear into any abyss that would take you. Deeply wishing you just didn’t have to endure for the rest of this conversation. Wishing you could have stopped him from opening that stupid drawer. “I tell you everything, but I just couldn’t bring myself to speak about this. Look at how you’re reacting? How could you blame me when every fear I have about this is justified?”

You really should have kept those elsewhere, not your open, public living room.

“Because it’s us. I’m always here for you.” He was still crying through broken words and you didn’t know why. Almost like you had shattered his resolve and his control leaving with it.

“Not lately. You’ve been otherwise occupied.” Suddenly find the plant in the corner of the room. It certainly weren’t trying to distract yourself from the insatiable cerulean eyes.

The breathtaking british woman wasn’t even here and as soon as she was brought up — there was a wall. Seperating, you from whatever was between the two of you.

“This isn’t my fault. You never said anything. How was I supposed to know you feel that way about me?” He tried to make his way towards you but you just stalked off in the other direction. Circling around the living room like a coward.

“It didn’t matter though, did it? You found someone perfect for you regardless of how you feel.” God, you wish he would just leave so you could let the dam break.

“No. You don’t get to do that. Since the moment I met you I only had eyes for you, but you never seemed like you were interested. So, I dropped it. Okay? You never left me a crumb to think you would ever want to be more than just friends.”

“You were my best friend. You still are. No matter how I felt, it could never outweigh the need I have for you to be in my life.” He sighed, rubbing his hands over his face. Trying to figure out what was next for the both of you. Steve always had to initiate and this time was no different.

“Peggy told me tonight she wants to be exclusive.” His confession washing over you like a ton of bricks. Crushing you.

You really couldn’t have any ill feeling towards her, she was just doing what you lacked the courage and the tenacity to do.

“But I didn’t really know what to do.” He took quiet steps towards you, not wanting to spook you. He voice not no longer held the a warmth of teddy bear, but a man on a mission rather took over.

Steve kept quiet until he had you backed up into a corner, no escape route in vision for you.

“’Cause there’s this other beautiful woman, absolutely breathtaking — and I just I really needed to know how she felt. If I had known before, I never would have gone anywhere else.” His hand caressing your soft, plump lips. Pulling on your bottom lip with his thumb, sending you into a frenzy.

“Then, I just wanted to forget about everything until Sam called me. Three beers deep, when he told me of a drawer filled with letters I should take a look at.” You could feel his breath on you, temple pressed against yours.

“I just need to hear you say it. Just once.” Taking it a step forward, intertwining your finger with his own.

“I love you.” It was all he needed as he sealed his own affirmation with a sweet kiss, inking your lips with all of his love.

#for the love of god let these tags work :/#steve rogers #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers x reader fluff #steve rogers x reader angst #steve rogers fluff #steve rogers angst #steve rogers one shot #steve rogers imagine #steve rogers au #college!steve rogers #au #mcu #mcu fanfiction #fanfiction

704 notes · View notes

echo-of-sounds · 3 years

Text

being rejected

Small headcanons of how Aizawa, Toshinori, Hizashi, and Gang Orca would react to being rejected.

This, uh, this hurt to write. I don’t want them in pain. They deserve love and appreciation.

Aizawa Shouta

Relationships aren’t a priority to Shouta. It takes a while for the emotions to register and for him to conclude if you’re worth his time. Then he needs to finalize his feelings about you. His hopes tell him you’ll reciprocate the attraction. The rare optimism inside his heart tells him you’ll accept, happy he finally asked you out. If those scarce feelings weren’t there to drive him, he wouldn’t spend as much time with you as he does.

When his mind’s made up, he waits until you’re alone to invite you on a date. At your awkward decline, you’d never be able to detect his feelings or thoughts. The usual flat expression is somehow flatter. His face and voice appear empty. It’s grim, almost sad, mournful, hardly reacting to your answer, unable to vocalize the distress he’s in.

After a few stiff, silent seconds, he nods, bids you goodnight, and walks away. From then on out, your interactions with him don’t change much. He’s his normal lethargic, grumpy self. But you’ll notice he isn’t as talkative with you as he used to be. He’s no master conversationalist with anyone, but he made an effort with you. And now that effort’s disappeared. You were just another person in the room for him to ignore.

Shouta struggles and he hates it. He can’t really interpret the emotions. Any delicate desires, any romantic thoughts that pop up, get shoved down on instinct. This time, he didn’t do that. He let them rise. Being romantically involved with someone finally excited him. You could have understood all his heart and all his troubles. And he would’ve allowed you. He wanted to let you in. The fears and loves that flood your chest when you lay yourself bare, granting someone else access to your past and future, he wanted to experience with you.

Yet, only a couple of words crumbled all those desires. He got sentimental about them before it even happened, allowing juvenile dreams to influence him. Your rejection made him remember that his life would not end up like that. Being a Hero was risky. Being a teacher was time-consuming. A partner just didn’t fit in and now he admitted it.

Afterward, any romantic thoughts that rose, regardless of how strong, were completely ignored. His troubles and nightmares and deep desires were his own. Intimacy ran risks of them getting hurt- risks he didn’t want to take again. He wouldn’t be able to handle someone seeing them, then damaging them. Shouta was by himself. He must accept it.

Yagi Toshinori

Out of everyone, Toshinori waits the longest to ask anyone out. The idea of someone truly being interested in him is a distant dream. Regardless of that distance, your smile and aura are radiant. Your conversations and interests softy enchant him, invoking images of a happy future together. It reignites that nearly dead flame inside.

Eventually he’ll conclude to ask you on a date. He gifts you a single flower, then wonders if you’d join in for dinner. Your gentle turndown guts him. He desperately wants to hide his grief. But you can see his eyebrows turn and light fade from his eyes. Whatever joy that held his shoulders steady, abandoned him as the flame died. Before you can say anything else, he acknowledges your answer, politely excuses himself, and leaves you alone with the flower.

Your friendship is still important to him. He tries his hardest not to let the blunder hinder that because he values you and wants to stay friends. However, it’ll be impossible for you to not notice how he doesn’t approach you when you enter the room like he used to, smiling, willing to talk about anything. Or how he avoids your eyes when you pass each other in the hall. Or how he drifts from you, tiny little bit by tiny little bit. It’s slow, gradually detaching from your friendship until one day you look back and realize you haven’t spoken in months.

No matter how wounded and alone Toshi feels, he doesn’t blame you. If anything, he agrees that no one would want to be with a sick, injured, powerless man. And the incident turns him off of relationships for a while, if not forever. He’d rather be ill and lonely than ill, lonely, and hurt…

Because Toshinori is incredibly hurt and confused and terrified. He knew it would turn out this way. He tried to find happiness. The hope for intimacy and the craving for something more led him astray. It was childish to think you would be any different. He knew it would be this way, yet he still tried. He still hoped. He still dreamed of romance, a happy future, a chance to love, a chance to be loved, a chance to feel safe and cherished. But he won’t be. Those feelings and dreams aren’t for him. And now he understands that, so he’s left alone and scared.

Yamada Hizashi

Hizashi’s been in relationships. Sometimes they work out, sometimes they end in heartbreak, and sometimes they don’t even start. Different people have caught his eye. Depending on his life at the time and how special they were, he’d decide if they were worth it. Once you came along, something about your energy and laughter sparked his interest. He wanted you.

He’d invite you to a concert or bar. The way he worded it made it seem like a friendly get-together. Then you show up and the general feel is warmly intimate, not some social gathering. Your quiet discomfort tells Hizashi you weren’t there for a romantic time. To salvage the evening, he relaxes the atmosphere for a fun night out. At the end of the night, he apologizes for the mix-up and expresses how he hopes your friendship will last after his screw-up. His jovial personality makes it easy to move past.

Hizashi doesn’t take it to heart at first. Infatuations, crushes, and relationships come and go. But as the weeks go on and he remains just a friend, little pangs begin to nag his chest. There was something special about you. He wanted to understand everything about you, physically, emotionally, romantically, and intimately. He wanted to be the man you turned to when you’re scared and happy and excited and disappointed. But now he knows that’s not his place. Your heart is searching for another and he accepts that. Your friendship is enough because he couldn’t stand completely losing you.

Those twinges never fully disappear. Hizashi cares and cries and experiences with all his heart, something so few can do. Every lover he’s ever had remains in his thoughts, feelings, and soul. When the time comes where you find the one, hugging and kissing them with your profoundly stunning smile, those pangs he thought he conquered long ago return. They aren’t as sundering as they used to be. Yet, the instant he’s alone in the bathroom, his eyes are watering and his legs are shaking, remembering just how deeply and wholly he cared for you.

Gang Orca

Kugo is incredibly hesitant to start a relationship. It’s new territory. When you happen along, he’s simply drawn towards you, wanting to spend plenty of time by your side. Romantic feelings brew, creeping higher into his heart. Once a stable friendship is built, he starts helping you with your daily tasks, trying to suss out if you reciprocate the feelings.

After the eternity it takes for him to decide, he asks you on a date one quiet night while you’re hanging out. It’s surprising by how out of left field it is. You don’t have to respond. Your frozen face is enough. Damn near everything in him sinks. His heart’s so rarely been exposed. It’s the rawest part of him and all it took was your expression to break it. To save himself the clawing bitterness, he apologizes for ruining your night, asks if you could forgive his oversight, and leaves.

As much as it hurts him too, he respects your decision. It doesn’t change how beautiful you are and how endearing your voice is and how cute your outfits are and how welcoming and inviting your- He must stop thinking like that. It’ll only make the rejection worse.

It’ll take a while for your friendship to return to normal. Kugo spends a bit of time alone, stressing and berating himself. Is it his appearance? His job? Did he do something wrong? Did he hurt you? Insult you? Annoy you? He wants to be angry that he’s sensitive. He almost wants to hate it, hate you. Maybe it’ll be easier that way. But he can’t. You don’t deserve it. You did nothing wrong.

And even though this experience was painful, the desire for love and intimacy and family and appreciation and a true, deep connection with someone keeps Kugo’s heart yearning, hoping. He just wants love. What about him isn’t worthy of it? Why won’t someone love him?

#aizawa shouta #aizawa x reader #all might #all might x reader #yagi toshinori #toshinori x reader #present mic #present mic x reader #yamada hizashi #hizashi x reader #gang orca #gang orca x reader #kugo sakamata #kugo x reader #bnha x reader #bnha #bnha headcanons

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the-paris-of-people · 3 years

Note

Hi. This is really not a question but more of a rant. A really really long one. I apologize in advance. I honestly care waaaaayyyy too much about this show than I should. Clearly too bored🙈.

After reading people's comments on this show and the ships, there are so many things that irk me and I thought I'd share even if I might get crap for it. So here goes:

1. "Ben only wants Devi when she is with Paxton." I.e. it's about Paxton. Lol people are funny. As though Ben thinks he can compete with Paxton on a social level. He's not stupid, he knows full well he can't. It's about Devi and in part her obsession with Paxton. People don't like thinking about things from Ben's perspective because they just don't like him. He's the one that finds out Devi is cheating, she runs after Paxton at the party ( now granted before she runs out, she's intensely staring at Ben and then realises Paxton is leaving but Ben's not gonna remember that) and she was busy chumming it up with Paxton in episode 3 in front of Ben with absolute disregard for him. So his natural defence is to guard himself and have his walls go up. It is a valid response. He burries his pain (exactly what Samberg said). And does not let his guard down around her romantically until episode 10 when Paxton literally rejects her at school. At the school dance, sparks are flying between those 2. Is Paxton around at the time...Uhm no (I'll get into the whole Aneesa thing). In his mind Paxton is out of the picture and it's like he can almost trust her again. And then when Paxton shows up with Devi, he basically feels like a fool for ever thinking that he was ever something more than 2nd best or sometimes anything at all ( especially considering Devi still wants Paxton after Devi and Paxton's last public interaction that Ben witnessed- I mean he does not get to see the shit behind closed doors). But then when Eleanor spills the tea, that look on his face is disbelief, yes a little bit of jealousy but overwhelmingly heartbreak. He is essentially watching the chance he never knew he had go away. Now you could argue that he should have known that she wanted him back but she broke his trust and does not explicitly say, " I want you back". Ben's not trying to get burnt again based on some assumption/hunch. He has been wrong before.

2. "How dare Ben be upset that Devi is with Paxton when he is with Aneesa". Fair point. Just like how dare Devi be upset and lose her shit over Ben and Aneesa. But yet it still happend. Devi gets 5 episodes allowing her to be upset and Ben can't even have one moment when a firkken bomb gets dropped on him.

Aneesa and Ben should have never date. Everyone knows that. He was never over Devi. He just pushed those feelings down to make him believe he was over her. I obviously don't agree with this. Aneesa doesn't deserve that. Ben needs to go to therapy. He needs an outlet. He is similar to Devi in that he doesn't want to process what happened and would rather move on and react. However, his reactions are far less impulsive/severe as Devi's. Him dating Aneesa is unfortunately a reaction. He didn't give himself time to really process how he feels. People say he dated Aneesa solely to spite Devi which is not true. Is there an element of " you never wanted me but someone else does"... absolutely but Aneesa is also very kind to Ben, they get along really well and she puts him first. Technically what's not to like. I mean if it was just to spite Devi, could he have not tried to hustle his way back in with Shira?? Problem is that dumb dumb didn't work through his Devi feelings and let's just be honest, the same spark and chemistry he has with Devi, is missing with Aneesa. It often feels forced, especially in regards to the pace of the relationship. I so wished Aneesa remained friends with Ben. That's what he needed...not another relationship.

3. "Aneesa is so amazing, she doesn't deserve to get hurt." I agree. She absolutely doesn't deserve to get hurt just like Ben and Paxton didn't deserve that crap Devi pulled. I think Aneesa is a great addition and I like that Devi has someone within her community to connect to. I'm South Asian myself and I genuinely value this aspect of my own life. I mean she is pretty great, kind and the anorexia rumour Devi unintentionally started was pretty heartbreaking. That scene where she talks to Devi at the relay about it, is so sad (especially coz we as viewers know Devi messed up). Now that being said is Aneesa also low key shady? YES. And it's not because she dated her friend's ex. It's because she started dating him knowing that Devi started the rumour about her because she was jealous about Ben and her. How does she think Devi would go from being so jealous that she starts a rumour, to the next week becoming their biggest "Stan". Come on girl. But there was no way Devi could say no after the crap she pulled with Aneesa. Ben did ask her out so if there is blame, he absolutely gets it too but he didn't know why Devi started that rumour (based on his surprised AF face when Eleanor spills the tea). Which leads me to my next question. Why didn't Aneesa tell him? Aneesa said Ben was supporting her through the rumour. She probably told him Devi started the rumour but didn't tell him why? That is odd? Clearly if Ben had known, he may changed his perspective on Devi actually wanting him instead of ignoring his feelings.

Lastly Aneesa knows there are unresolved feelings between Devi and Ben. This is evident from that dance scene. She literally runs to cut in their pretty intense conversation. Like why you running girl? I didn't think much of it at first but coupled with another moment, it makes a lot of sense. When Ben agrees to dance with Aneesa, he looks back at Devi and lingers and Aneesa picks up on this and pulls him away. It's a blink and you will miss it moment but it is there.

Now all of this doesn't mean she needs to get hurt but they probably need to break up. Ben needs to be single for a while and work through how he feels about Devi, Aneesa and most importantly himself. Whilst I don't particularly enjoy their relationship, you never get to see it from either of their perspectives. Maybe that could change things but honestly I just prefer Ben and Devi.

Also can everyone stop acting like Ben is dating Devi's best friend. Being brown doesn't make you automatically best friends and Ben and Devi met Aneesa the same week. People are acting like he is dating Eleanor.

4. "Devi chose Paxton". Please! The only thought through decision that girl made in regards to these 2 boys is when she chose herself and decided not to be Paxton's little secret. I mean in episode 1 and 2 she can't decide so she dates both. In episode 3, she interacts with Paxton because of the whole tutoring thing. He says they don't makes sense. While she seems a bit sad she doesn't seem too upset like she is season 1 and she isn't looking for any opportunity to spend time with him (unlike season 1). Episode 4,5,6,7 and 8 she is losing her mind over Ben. Half way through 8 she knows she has no choice but to let him go. But even after that she doesn't pursue Paxton. He does that at the end of episode 9 when in all honesty she hasn't really thought about him in a while. Then of course Paxton does what he does and she finally choose herself, issuing an ultimatum essentially. Paxton does eventually show up...but it's a choice by default. She just yo-yo's between them. She also needs to be single, deal with her loss, love herself and think about what she wants.

5. "Devi loves Paxton". Sure bud. Does have Devi have feeling for Paxton? Duh! But is it love. Nope. People like to confuse infatuation for love. She has been infatuated with this boy this the 3rd (she knew squat about him). When her dad died, she turns that infatuation into an obsession. It like becomes a full time hobby in season 1. She ruins relationships over it. In season 2 you can argue there is more depth to it and Paxton does grow in Season 2. But somehow she is still fixated on the fact that it's Paxton Hall-Yoshida. I mean she smells him (totally normal), Mc Enroe's comment at the relay was, "did this hunk of beef just say he likes spending time with her", when she breaks up him she says , "you are very good at kissing" not possibly any of his other good qualities. And at the end she says , "I guess I'm Paxton Hall Yoshida's girlfriend now". This boy is so far up a pedestal that if he fell of it, he'd break something. Now granted if he fell of it in Season 1, he'd be dead. So progress I guess...

Maybe the relationship will change in Season 3 and she genuinely falls in love with him. I mean Id be sad but obviously a real possibility. But also that relationship needs to move on from being just the "Paxton project" which it was basically all of season 2. Maybe actually talk about her every once in a while.

Also people who find the ending so amazing because he shows up...bare minimum bro. I understand his perspective, how does it look to go back with someone who cheated on you. Fair point 💯. However she didn't start this shit up again. He did. He liked her so much that he had to make out with her In the middle of the night out of the blue but not enough to respect her publically. That's some BS right there. If he started it, he should have thought it through instead of guilt tripping her. But he is a teenager and ALL of them make incredibly stupid decisions (we all have). Devi messed up big time too and she apologized. The same compassion must extend to him but in no way is it a grand gesture, it's the bare minimum...like her apologies

6. "Paxton forgave Devi forgave Devi so quickly whilst Ben didn't and was so mean". He did forgive her pretty quickly. Good for him. However let's not act like circumstance didn't carve the way for that. They were pushed together because of the whole tutoring thing and he knows that they have to see each other all the time. So logically just makes sense to keep the peace. But still mature oh his part. Also he wasn't as emotionally invested as Ben. Did he have feelings? Yes. However, based on his inner monologue (Gigi Hadid) his ego took more of a hit because how could Devi, the "weirdest girl" he ever liked two time him with Ben Gross. Did his feelings deepen by the end? Yes. But at the start...it isn't that deep.

Also it's great and all that he "forgave" her so quickly but he sure did like bringing it up a lot. Like at the relay guilting her, upset at the end of 6 because he failed...I mean wtf girl you owe me- I don't really care what else is going on in your life, again in episode 8 in the car and finally we all know the mess that is episode 10.

In regards to Ben. His anger is justified for reasons stated in point 1. In fact his reaction seems more real because he is deeply hurt by Devi. Do I like some of his reaction (i.e. nose piercing-will discuss this further) ...nope but she only sincerely apologises to him in episode 8 vs 3 for Paxton. He accepts it. People acting like they would be so calm and chill about being cheated on. And yes he did cheat on Shira. He tries to kiss Devi at party twice but apologises that day and the following week. He doesn't try anything with Devi the whole of episode 10 until she kisses him. He acknowledges that it was wrong and immediately breaks up with Shira. Although cheating is not something we should condone can we actually acknowledge that Shira was the worst and doesn't even remember Ben's name. Compare that to Devi's premeditated cheating. Her Eleanor are literally laughing at how amazing they are for pulling it off and Devi didn't care about either of their feelings cause she was going to be India. Sorry but that is far worse. She also thinks she can bullshit her apology with Ben. He isn't here for that...which is fine! He kept trying his level best to avoid her but even that she wouldn't let him do.

7. "Ben is Horrible". Has Ben done some shitty things. Absolutely. People complain that he has never apologised for anything. Fair enough. He needs to apologize for the UN comment and the psychosomatic comment. It was incredibly hurtful. However, no one does call him out of it. Now you could argue he should just do it. Please... have you watched these particular set of teenagers? None of them apologise without being called out on it first(except maybe Fabiola). And you only get called out my your support system ... which Ben does not have. He practically looks like he raised himself. He doesn't have parents to put him back in line or a sister to call him out on his shit. Devi has her mom, cousin, grandmum , Elanor, Fabiola and her therapist. Does she ever listen to them the first time? Nope. And her first time apologies are such messes. She only gets it right the 2nd or 3rd time. All of them have some form of support but not really him. And it is heartbreaking. It's why I genuinely believe he needs to go to therapy. He needs an outlet to express everything he feels. He also needs to be held accountable for those comments and understand the root of it (ok let's be honest Devi even in their rivalry was probably the most constant person in his life, and fighting with her meant she stayed close by- it's a subconscious thing). He should apologize to her and also find better ways to communicate what he is feeling. The nose ring thing was manipulative. I agree. He should apologize. But I'm not gonna lie, it doesn't piss me off as much because I think it's pretty messed that it took that for her to realise how much she hurt him. Also tbh if you were willing to alter your body on a 2 minute thought out dare, you wanted to do it anyway. But again not a healthy way to emote on Ben's part. The David thing doesn't upset me because he knows how to pronounce her actual name. It's not like he doesn't know how and doesn't bother to try. It was part of their rivalry to irritate her. I honestly find it quite endearing as part of their friendship and think Devi does. I may be wrong and she may not like it and in that case he needs to stop and apologize.

I am not upset by him coming over to her house and calling her out about Aneesa. She deserved it. Also if she was that uncomfortable she could have taken him outside to talk like she did with Paxton. She is clearly comfortable enough to have him in the house. And her therapist agrees with Ben. If he hadn't, she wouldnt have known that Aneesa was leaving. Her mom took away her phone. And even then her first attempt at an apology was soooooo bad. And I don't think Ben did it solely to get Aneesa to stay so he could date her. This is Ben, he was willing to do long distance with Devi from India, I think he could have done the same with Aneesa from like the same town 🙄

I genuinely like Ben because he is a good kid. He makes mistakes like they all do. His personality is hilarious to watch but also his and Devi's relationship is so special. Me liking Ben and Devi has nothing to do with what Paxton has or has not done. I just like the dynamic between the two. They obviously care deeply for each other. Their conversations are hilarious. I love their banter. I love how comfortable they are with each and am sometimes surprised by the depth of their conversations. But also they have amazing chemistry. All the jealous looks and angst are between these two idiots pining for each other. I think she does have chemistry with Paxton but it's more because he is PHY, school Adonis. I mean let's be honest, he'd probably have chemistry with Fabiola solely cause he is PHY. The two nerds just match each other and it's so funny how often they are in sync. It's honestly adorable. They just get each other. That bathroom scene was the sweetest thing and also proves he's not this terrible person. She only comes out of the stall because of his support. He is genuinely hurt for her when technically it should have been a great moment for him.

I do believe the two have to be single for a bit before admitting their feelings for one another and moving forward. That's why my main thing for season 3 is that he absolutely cannot interfere in her relationship with Paxton. He needs to give her the space to figure that. Do I think there will be moments between them... absolutely but no cheating please. Everyone needs to move on from that. If they do it...I honestly think il be done with the show.

Anyways sorry for the really long ramble. If you made it to the end thanks for your patience 😌

Thank you for this beautiful masterpiece, I pretty much agree with everything and need to put it out there for the world to see

#im obsessed with benvi and yall KNOW it #ben x devi #thanks for the response i was soooo entertained while reading it #never have i ever

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klixxy · 3 years

Text

weekly fic recs

(ft. my bookmark comments - mostly mha and voltron)

boku no hero academia:

what is right and what is easy - theroyalsavage

(bnha; tododeku; fluff + angst; 2k words; oneshot)

Midoriya Izuku is not chosen to represent Hogwarts in the Triwizard Tournament. He does not slay a dragon, or rescue innocents, or brave a maze of dark magic. He does not win accolades, or fame, or glory.

Instead, Izuku meets the son of the greatest dark wizard of the age, a Durmstrang student with hair like a sunrise and eyes like a war. And maybe, he just might win something else.

If I'm Being Honest.... by I_dont_know_man

(bnha; tododeku; fluff + crack/humor; 26k words; oneshot; truth quirk)

Midoriya scrunched up his nose in confusion. “Uh, Shouto, why are you glaring at me like that?”

“I-” Todoroki began to lie, until nausea slammed him like a door to any room that Bakugou entered. “I--” Todoroki grit his teeth, and glared daggers into the wall behind Midoriya. Goodbye, friendship. It had been absolutely divine while it lasted. “Because you’re very attractive.”

They say honesty is the best policy, but it sure as hell had a knack for Todoroki making a complete and utter fool of himself.

Or: In which Todoroki is placed under a mysterious truth-telling quirk and suffers, Uraraka laughs at him, Midoriya is confused but smitten nonetheless, and Twitter is the thirstiest site on the planet.

paint on our lips (paint on those fingertips) by spicanao

(bnha; tododeku; angst + magical realism; 11k words; oneshot; gallery au)

Galleries are wonderful places. The works seem so vibrant, so beautiful, so alive.

Until they're actually alive.

(Ib AU)

[my bookmarks: holy shit this is beautiful in an odd, poignant, dream-like way]

Todoroki Shouto’s Amateur Guide to Not Fucking Up The Timeline by Anubis_2701

(bnha; tododeku; crack/humor; 13k words; oneshot; time travel; future fic)

All that Todoroki had wanted was milk. Nothing drastic, nothing dramatic, just milk.

Unfortunately, in his quest to get milk, he ended up running into one of the saltiest, most impulsive people this side of the globe. Who also just so happened to have a volatile time-travel quirk.

So yeah, he was fucked. Just slightly. Being punted randomly through time wasn't exactly how he'd wanted to spend his Saturday morning. At least the younger versions of his friends are cute.

awake and (un)afraid, asleep or- by driedupwishes

(bnha; tododeku; fluff + angst + The Feels; 54k words; oneshot; social media/future fic)

“You,” Shoto says, picking his head up from where his screen is filled with The Worst Photograph Ever, curtesy of Shinsou, Jiro, Kaminari, his brother, and nearly everyone they know. “You are so dead to me.”

Kirishima blinks, mouth half open while Izuku mutters oh god, it’s too late, isn’t it on the other end of the phone, before Kirishima is leaning into his space to see his screen.

“Oh,” he says, in response to the photo someone in the crowd of civilians watching the fight had taken of them. “Oh, that’s-” he cuts himself off for a minute, leaning back to eye Shoto’s face while on the other side of the phone Izuku smothers what is probably a laugh, and then changes tracks.

“It’s super manly to love and support your friends,” Kirishima tells Shoto haughtily, as if this whole thing isn't his fault in the first place.

or: Kirishima and Shoto accidentally start trending on Twitter and in retaliation Shoto decides to make an Instagram to showcase all his Hero Deku merchandise, so that everyone knows how much he loves his boyfriend Izuku, and no one expects how quickly it will all spiral out from there

[my bookmarks: broke my heart. i teared up multiple times and even now I'm barely holding back tears.

pure beauty. pulls an incredible amount of emotion from the descriptive language and conveys the love and loneliness and that pulsing ache so well that i thought that my chest would cave in from the force of all the fucking feelings in it. this entire fic was a perfect, awe-inspiring package of fluff, beautiful shoto and class 1a interaction, heartfelt long distance tododeku feels, and almost every single paragraph had my heart fucking squeezing so hard in my chest that i could barely breathe.

i am in awe.]

Hooliganisms by aphrodaisyacs

(bnha; gen/todofam; crack/humor; 17k words; series; social media)

In which an anonymous artist’s street art of Bald Endeavor goes viral, causing a chain of coincidental events and ironic situations to ripple through the lives of everyone- heroes, villains and civilians alike.

[my bookmarks: i'm crying so much from laughter]

Part 1: Where it all begins- the origins of the street artist known as the "Bald Hooligan" and their rise to infamy

Part 2: The spin-off focusing on the unlikely trio whose friendship was borne from the events of Part 1

Daydreaming by AnonymousTwit

(bnha; gen/todobakudeku; angst; 7k words; oneshot; todoroki-centric)

If he'd been more careful, then they'd be fine. If he'd been paying attention, then he wouldn't be alone right now.

But he wasn't and he hadn't, so it's just him, now. It's him, his thoughts, and the unconscious bodies of two of his closest friends as he waits for someone to reach them.

Whether they be friendly or not.

Author has writer's block and coughed up some Todoroki angst in retaliation.

A Study in Firsts by Oceanbreeze7

(bnha; gen; angst + fluff + humor; 76k words; ongoing; class 1a-centric)

There’s a first time for everything.

The first time everyone crammed in Momo’s room to study, a mess of limbs and books on her bed.

The first time Mina burned crepes so badly the smoke alarm went off.

The first time a jumpscare got Sero so badly, he flipped off the back of the couch.

The first time Uraraka fell asleep at the table and accidentally sent it floating.

The first time someone realized Todoroki walked far too quietly, and far too cautiously around the dorms to be normal.

The first time Midoriya broke his toe on a door frame and kept walking through it.

The first time Kirishima woke up screaming through the walls.

The first time Tsuyu blanched at the sight of a needle.

The first time Bakugo dropped, clutching the back of his neck with eyes scarily vacant and detonating everything around him until Aizawa had to intervene.

It wasn’t always pretty, but the dorms were filled with firsts.

Responsibility by deafmic

(bnha; gen; angst + hurt/comfort; 94k words; series (complete); todoroki-centric; dadzawa + papamic)

“I told you outside,” Aizawa chooses his words carefully, reiterating the same point he’s made before. “My responsibility for you doesn’t end at the classroom. Every part of your life is partially my responsibility. Your father doesn’t scare or intimidate me. If you need help, I can get it for you, but you and I both know that you need to ask for it first.”

Aizawa organizes a way for the students to go home for the holidays. Todoroki Shouto, however, gets left behind by his father. Aizawa, annoyed at Endeavor, takes Shouto under his care for the night, and is joined by a certain Yamada Hizashi.

[my bookmarks: *unholy screaming sobbing noises*

an incredible and emotional journey from start to finish.]

the drip of melting ice by walking_through_autumn

(bnha; gen/platonic shintodo; angst + fluff; 19k words; oneshot; todoroki/shinsou-centric ft. dadzawa)

Aizawa found out within a day. It was quite likely due to the dish Todoroki had washed and left to dry in the shared kitchen after the kitten had been fed off it. Hitoshi was forced to reflect that it wasn’t any good hiding the litter and cat food in their wardrobes if Todoroki was going to make a fundamental mistake like that.

Aizawa stood in his door frame and raised an eyebrow. “Well? Where is the cat?”

Hitoshi gave his most disarming smile. “What cat?”

Todoroki chose that moment to exit his room, eyes on his phone, other hand holding a cat toy. He bumped into Aizawa and looked up slowly, like in a horror movie.

“...oh,” Todoroki said. Aizawa raised the other eyebrow. Hitoshi rubbed a hand down his face.

Herbal tea, weekly floor gatherings, spoiled surprises, movie marathons, shared custody over a cat, rain and ice and blankets and plushies, and the journey of falling into a friendship.

(Or: Hitoshi moves into the 2A dormitory at the beginning of his second year, learns who his neighbour is, and makes the friends he had declared he isn't there to have within the space of a semester.)

Hand in Hand in Hand by kngsbrg (Citlalcoatl)

(bnha; todobakudeku; fluff + strangers to lovers; 10k words; oneshot; tea au)

Boiling the water, choosing the right temperature for the right kind of tea, using quality leaves, scooping the precise amount, and letting it steep for just the perfect time...

All that and more is needed to make a delicious cup of tea.

A business that Shouto was quite knowledgeable about.

Spring begins and brings with it the hint of new fresh air, buds waiting to blossom, and just a bit of change.

[my bookmarks: featuring: oblivious teamaker shoto and pining firemen baku and izu]

even if i die (it's you) by monomoon

(bnha; todobaku; fluff + angst + strangers to lovers; 75k words; complete; paramedic au)

Or; where Todoroki never went to UA and, in rejection of his father's ambitions, became a paramedic; and where pro hero Bakugou Katsuki is just a little bit too intrigued with the heterochromatic man who always glares daggers at him whenever he sees him.

When Bakugou was suddenly and abruptly met with two cold, heterochromatic eyes glaring daggers right back at him, he had two immediate thoughts:

"Why does he look like he's plotting my assassination?"

and

"Why the fuck are his eyes so pretty?"

[my bookmarks: UGH THIS IS JUST FUCKING PHENOMENAL- GORGEOUS LOVELY INCREDIBLE HEARTSTOPPING HEARTBREAKING BEAUTIFUL RIDICULOUSLY GOOD POIGNANT I AM RUNNING OUT OF ADJECTIVES BUT IT'S GREAT TRUST ME AKDHJSFNW]

This Is Now by colormesherlocked

(bnha; gen; angst + hurt/comfort + fluff; 193k words; series (ongoing); todoroki-centric)

Todoroki Shoto will be a hero.

...But not just yet. Right now, Todoroki Shoto is a bitter, pessimistic, hurt teenager who doesn't want help, friends or hinderances of any kind getting in the way of his misguided goals.

Thankfully, there will soon be people in his life who will be more than happy to drag him into a place of happiness, safety, and acceptance - kicking and screaming the whole way, if they have to. All he has to do is survive his first meeting with them and all the incredible changes that will come after.

This is Todoroki Shoto's Hero Academia.

(Semi-canon compliant up to a point and told from Todoroki Shoto's POV.)

the league of anti-villains by aizawa_wears_crocs (avenris), avenris

(bnha; gen; angst + fluff + humor; 35k words; ongoing; todobakushinmono-centric)

When he's secretly tasked to find the UA traitor, Todoroki isn't expecting help. He's especially not expecting it from the three other first year students perceived as villainous in their own ways. Unfortunately for him, Shinsou, Monoma and Bakugou have all got something to prove, and his solo mission turns into a team effort that rapidly spirals far beyond what they were expecting to find - but hey, they're in too deep now.

Or: in which the gang solves the mystery of the traitor feat. todoroki family shenanigans, copious amounts of dadzawa, backstory for my favorite 1-B gremlin, and good old-fashioned illegal vigilantism.

such eloquent graffiti by firelilyblooms

(bnha; todobaku; angst + hurt/comfort; 9k words; oneshot; todoroki-centric; future fic)

Todoroki Shouto is sitting cross-legged at his coffee table, hunched over a bowl of instant ramen, when he finds out along with the rest of the world that the Flame Hero, Endeavor, is dead.

Or, Shouto's guide to dealing with death.

[my bookmarks: i am in ✨pain✨:)]

Tell-All by HopeNight

(bnha; todofam; angst; 4k words; oneshot; todofam/natsuo-centric)

When Natsuo is twenty-years-old, he publishes a tell-all book on his father and growing up in his house. This starts a domino effect, of course. With the book comes an investigation and sets the groundwork for the Hawks scandal in several years’ time that will see the disbandment of the Heroic Public Safety Commission and the ascension of pro hero Deku to the Number One slot. This will also lead to a decades long chain of change and progress with Deku wielding his influence and charisma like a sword and shield to make society and the world a little better than when he found it.

In essence, you can say, that Todoroki Natsuo is the true hero of this story with his fake quirk and an anger burning in his gut. Just one small book and suddenly…everything changes. The future is brighter for its existence. The curtains are thrown back and the light begins its work to disinfect and cleanse.

When Todoroki Shouto is in his second year of UA, his brother, Natsuo, publishes a tell-all book of essays about growing up in Endeavor's house.

This is Natsuo's story about how he really changed the path of things.

like an open wound by filzmonster

(bnha; gen; angst + hurt/comfort; 5k words; oneshot; todoroki-centric; manga spoilers)

It's a Sunday and Shouto is making gyoza in the dorm kitchen - or: It's a Sunday and Todoroki has an existential crisis over food.

[my bookmarks: oh my GODDDDDDDDD

*screeches while crying**is a blubbering mess*]

Shouto Todoroki and His Stuffed Eeyore (And Also Childhood Trauma) by ThatSpicySeaFlapFlap

(bnha; gen; angst + MORE ANGST; 42k words; complete; todoroki-centric)

Aizawa looked him in the eye, placed a gentle hand around his bicep (not like Endeavor, his father had only ever touched him with the intention to burn) and asked, “Are you okay?”

People don’t usually ask him things. They like to tell him things, like where to sit or what to wear or how to talk or how to be a hero or how to be himself.

‘Am I okay?’ He thought. He realized he doesn’t ask himself things, either.

Shouto didn’t have an answer to Aizawa’s question, so instead he said:

“A very long time ago, my mother did something....highly upsetting.” The boy was tracing the outline of his scar, his calloused finger stopping and jumping around the bumps and ridges of the burnt skin. “Something today reminded me of that.”

“Do you want to talk about it?” His teacher asked.

“No.”

“Okay. I’m here when you do. I’m always here, kid.” Shouto only responded with a sob. He felt as if he’d earned that right after all the emotional labor he had been put through tonight.

days by chibistarlyte

(bnha; todobaku; angst + hurt/comfort; 19k words; series (complete); todoroki-centric)

Most days, Shouto is fine.

But some days...

Some days, Shouto falls apart.

Location Sent by sunflowerstorm

(bnha; gen; angst + hurt/comfort; 15k words; oneshot; todoroki-centric; third year 1a)

In their first year at UA Midoriya sent his location to the class 1-A group chat during the Hosu incident because he didn't have time to do anything else before rushing to Iida's aid.

Now in their second year, Todoroki sends his location to the group chat at 6:30am on a Saturday morning after going home for the weekend. Midoriya knows immediately that something is very wrong and takes off, Bakugo hot on his heels.

-----

"They’d known each other long enough to be able to communicate practically wordlessly. The quiet rage on Midoriya's face was extremely telling, this was bad. Bakugo braced himself as Midoriya shuffled to the side to show where his hands were hovering over what was most certainly a burn and a serious one at that. Todoroki’s own fire didn’t burn him but they all knew that didn’t make him fire proof. Bakugo could do the math."

Faith by phinnium

(bnha; gen; angst + hurt/comfort; 7k words; oneshot; todoroki-centric; manga spoilers)

"You wanted to open a case?"

Aizawa frowned, "uh, yeah. Someone showed you Dabi's video, didn't they? And I don't doubt Todoroki himself has told you bits and pieces."

Izuku did not expect this to be how the conversation went.

"Yeah. But Todoroki isn't being hurt now. He's fine. Endeavour's changed."

Or: Midoriya trusts the Hero Commission far more than he should, especially given the situation at hand. Todoroki isn't available to explain what's what, so Aizawa and Bakugou do it instead.

(Written after the release of issue 293 of the manga, and in the aftermath of the current arc. Spoilers ahead.)

Incendiary by macrauchenia

(bnha; gen; angst + hurt/comfort; 17k words; ongoing (hiatus?); todoroki-centric)

"You're going to die, little Todoroki. And if you don't, your classmates will instead."

A training exercise backfires when Izuku and Todoroki become tangled in an escaped villain's vendetta against Endeavor. Alone in a perilous situation due to the villain's barrier quirk, Todoroki must take desperate and creative measures to save his classmates.

[Class 1-A Teamwork/Bonding]

Parallax by petrichor (findingkairos)

(bnha; gen; angst + hurt/comfort + fluff; 64k words; ongoing; todoroki-centric)

Todoroki Shouto has memories that he didn't make on his own, motor skills that his brain doesn't know how to parse, and a love of science and mathematics and physics that means he broke down his Quirk into its most intricate, universe-bending components at the age of seven.

In one universe, he wants to become a hero. In this one, even though he doesn't want to, he might have to.

(Featuring: a rapidly developing Shoutosquad, Quirk science, headcanons of all flavors, healthy and supportive sibling and sibling-like relationships, and Dadzawa.)

[notes: one of my current favorite fics that i’m eagerly following for the next update. :D]

Caturdays by staqua (aka my fav todobaku author)

(bnha; todobaku; fluff + angst + enemies to lovers; 10k words; oneshot)

"Hmm... It's lunchtime now isn't it? You should have lunch with him."

"With Bakugou?" He blanched. "I think he would refuse and then murder me."

Rei chuckled softly as if death was a joke and held his hand tenderly. "If he's in the hospital, someone he cares about must not be well. I think anyone going through that should have a nice meal with good company."

"You overestimate me," Shouto pointed out and she gave another laugh.

OR: Shouto's usual Saturdays included visits to his mother and the cat cafe; he wasn't expecting Bakugou to get thrown in the mix.

voltron: legendary defender:

*hacks twitter in space* by Zakyuu

(vld x marvel; gen/klance; crack/humor + fluff; 17k words; social media au; ongoing)

the voltron paladins arent as popular as the avengers, obviously — in fact, no one even knows they exist. but they still radiate the same kind of dumb gay energy like the rest of the world.

or: pidge somehow manages to connect voltron's communicators onto earth and virtually nothing is the same. voltron also collectively makes everyone lose their marbles while they play hot potato with the fact that theyre in a ten thousand year war with the galra.

the fear of falling by amillionsmiles

(vld; gen; angst + fluff; character study; 3k words; oneshot; keith-centric)

Keith can pull off a downward spiral. It's the kind of maneuver he does in his sleep.

[my bookmarks: stunning. beautiful. breathtaking. poignant.]

Recoil/Release by Cheshyr

(vld; gen; angst + hurt/comfort; 22k words; oneshot; keith-centric)

When Keith is bitten by an alien creature with venom that causes your dominant emotions to be amplified, the team is ready for a day of dealing with an incredibly angry paladin.

Which means they're not ready at all for what actually happens.

hound by story_monger

(vld; gen; angst + hurt/comfort; 47k words; oneshot; keith-centric)

Keith has a lot of practice being alone; you might almost say he's good at it. When he finds himself seriously injured and stranded on an unknown planet, he knows he's not alone there. And here's the worst part: even after rescue and after things return to normal, Keith gets the distinct sense that whatever was on that planet has followed him. He doesn't have proof. But he knows it's there. He knows it's not going to stop until it gets what it wants.

Keith's 'Physical Contact' Initiation Program by alisayamin (sh_04e)

(vld; gen; fluff+ angst + hurt/comfort; 26k words; oneshot; keith-centric)

Keith didn’t move and neither did Pidge. It was a little awkward until Keith finally said, “Maybe we could officially officiate this..?”

“What do you mean?”

“Fist me.”

Pidge recoiled and sputtered, “Keith, what the f-” She was cut off by Shiro’s bellowing laughter from the observatory deck.

With his straight face unchanged, Keith lowered his left hand with the stopwatch and lifted his right hand, fisted.

Pidge actually sighed with so much relief, “OH. You mean fistbump! Right.” She slapped her forehead to remove the very very wrong image her imagination drew for her, “Holy shit, Keith, we need to work on that but yeah sure, I’d be honoured to officiate your physical contact program whatever.”

That one time Coran realized Keith was too distant and decided to make him undergo the 'Physical Contact' Initiation Program which then led to --> 5 times the paladins realized Keith was an actual cat.

The Red String by Le_Tournesol

(vld; gen/klance; angst + fluff; 19k words; series (ongoing); keith-centric; pre-voltron au)

Lance and Keith keep coming across one another at different points in their lives.

[my bookmarks: this is so sad and sweet and lovely]

All that is gold does not glitter by Rangergirl3

(vld; gen; angst + fluff + hurt/comfort; 28k words; complete; keith-centric)

Keith isn't what most would call a 'people' person, but that doesn't stop him from caring about his team.

aka

Five Times the other Paladins learned something about Keith, and the One Time he learned something about them.

[my bookmarks: fuck. just- fuck.]

Miscommunication Celebration by SleepySsnail

(vld; gen; fluff + hurt/comfort; 4k words; oneshot; keith-centric; birthday fic)

Keith was never too focused on his birthday, but when it rolls around he hopes his team remembers it. When Keith's birthday is full of quality time and fun, he doesn't even question why his friends haven't said "happy birthday" to him.

Or: Where Keith thinks everyone is celebrating his birthday when they really forgot about it.

Keithtober 2019 Day 23: Birthday

avatar: the last airbender:

Change of Address by hearmerory

(atla; gen/zukka; ANGST + fluff + hurt/comfort; 89k words; series (ongoing); zuko-centric; modern au)

A collection of instances in a modern AU of Zuko's shitty childhood, featuring Ozai's dislike of his son's autism and sexuality.

[my bookmarks: FUCK F U C K WHAT THE ACTUAL F U C K.

I CAN'T WITH THIS ANYMORE.]

92 notes · View notes

madamewriterofwrongs · 3 years

Note

From the fluffy/blushy prompts: "No, it’s fine. I can wait until you’re done talking to them". Thank you!

Happy NaNoWriMo (aka, working multiple projects and filling prompts <3)!

911/Buddie

Take My Heart Away With You

“Eddie Diaz, as I live and breathe.” Half a dozen heads shot up from across the intersection as the firefighters of the 118 continued to pack up their equipment. It had been a simple enough call: three-car accident in a residential area, no major injuries or immediate dangers. In fact, the entire incident was over and done with in less than an hour; they might make it back in time for Bobby to cook lunch before half of the crew were off for the day.

Although, plans were certain to change given the determined excitement from the stranger on the sidewalk.

Eddie looked up from his place beside Buck and recognized the man instantly. “Jerry? What the hell are you doing here?”

Without a second glance, he tossed his share of the equipment haphazardly into the truck for Buck to sort and jogged over to greet his friend.

“What am I doing here? Last I heard, you were living in Texas with your parents, and now I find you pulling cats out of trees in the City of Angels?”

From against the side of the truck, Chimney tilted his head to mutter “I don’t think I’ve ever rescued a cat from any form of flora.” Hen chuckled but agreed with a quip of her own, though Buck was admittedly too fixated on the other voices to pay much attention. Unfortunately, he was a little too far away to hear Eddie’s conversation with his old friend so he returned to his task, picking up the slack until his partner’s return.

“I moved out here with my son about three years ago, now.” Eddie hadn’t seemed to notice the distinct lack of chatter from his teammates as they all strained to hear his conversation. “You remember Christopher? He’s almost ten now.”

Jerry whistled in response, shoving his hands into his jean pockets. “Crazy. And Shannon? How’s she doing?”

No matter the passage of time, the sudden memory of losing his wife was always a shock to his system. “She, uh, she passed just over a year ago. It’s just the two of us. Well, I’ve got my aunt and my grandmother, and Carla, and Buck, and the rest of the 118.”

“I’m sorry,” he looked down at the hand on his shoulder and his mind returned to the days when the most sympathetic greeting he could expect on a daily basis was a firm clap on the shoulder. “but it seems like you’re doing well here.”

“I am.” Eddie was finally able to admit that he was thriving in LA, and it was nothing to be ashamed of (actually, he was almost able to admit that). “But what about you? I thought you were moving to Paris to be with Katie and her family.” It had been some time but he seemed to remember long nights of listening to Jerry pine for his girlfriend who had decided to move home now that she was done with her Masters, and how much he would miss her once his tour was over.

“I did. I’m just in town for a conference.” His friend flashed a smile that reminded Eddie of Buck’s giddy grins when he was almost too excited to share his news. “We’ve been married now, two years in August.”

He had nothing but congratulations to offer Jerry, though his heart did ache to see the ring glinting in the sunlight.

“How have you been since Shannon…” there was no need to end the sentence for two men so acquainted with death. “Is Carla…?”

“No.” He gently affirmed. “Carla’s an amazing woman but she helps care for Christopher when I’m at work.” And what a god-send she was. “Buck introduced us.”

There was a familiar glint in his eyes that Eddie recognized from every time he found himself roped into pulling pranks on their last day at any camp. “And Buck is…”

“My coworker.” He emphasized with a nod in his friend’s direction, hiding the smile that came when Buck gave an awkward wave.

“He’s cute.”

Eddie barely resisted the urge to roll his eyes. Jerry wasn’t the first (and he certainly wouldn’t be the last) of his friends to be charmed by Buck with just a single look.

“And he knows it.” He grumbled good-naturedly. “But listen, I gotta get back to work. It was nice seeing you.”

He was already jogging back when he turned at the sound of his name. “A couple of the guys are getting together on Thursday to watch the game; you wanna join us?”

Eddie paused in the middle of the street, a rejection on his lips before he paused to consider the offer in its entirety. A night with old friends who shared a very specific (and some would say ‘traumatic’) experience, most of whom he hasn’t seen since returning prematurely from his second tour. A night which didn’t predictably end at home or at Buck’s, reminiscing about the day – not that he didn’t enjoy his downtime with someone he’d easily call his best friend. A night with no responsibilities.

“Yeah.” He called as he jogged back to his old friend. “Let me give you my new number and you can send me the details.”

Across the road, Buck stood upright as he no longer subtly observed Eddie’s interaction. “Did he just give that guy his number?”

“So what if he did?” Hen slammed the back of the ambulance after returning their unused equipment. “It’s been over a year since Shannon died, I think it’s good that he’s getting back out there.”

Chimney hummed in contemplation beside her. “I’m with Buck on this. Maybe it’s a little too soon to be dating. Besides, he’s got a kid at home, doesn’t that complicate things?”

“I didn’t say it was too soon.” Buck protested too sharply. “I just think it’s in poor taste to be hitting on a guy when he’s in the middle of a call.”

“Didn’t you frequently talk to your girlfriend while actively treating a patient?”

He ignored Hen’s excellent point in favor of watching Eddie return to his post.

“Sorry about that. Old army buddy. I haven’t seen him since I got back but we’re gonna get together with some of the old squad later this week to catch up.” He looked so excited (as excited as ‘Professional-Mode’ Eddie could be) that Buck didn’t have the heart to question him further. He used the same excuse to explain why we was virtually silent on the ride back to the station. It certainly had nothing to do with the curious way his heart tightened at the thought that Eddie might be ready to date after the passing of his wife.

Eddie would never describe himself as a ‘social butterfly’, in even the broadest sense of the term, but there was something about being in a specific environment that brought out his louder personality. Sitting on the couch, drinking beer, and half-watching a game while taking turns swapping stories about the old days and where life took them after (that is to say, standing and cheering when there was noise from the television and virtually ignoring the screen otherwise).

For once, he found he had stories to tell that didn’t leave him riddled with guilt. He could talk about the people he’d saved at work, and the daring rescues Buck decided to pull off that Eddie had to save him from. A few of the guys had seen Buck on the news but had no idea Eddie was there. Thoughts of all the people they’d lost – and almost lost – in bombings had silenced the room for a minute. And then someone scored a goal and they were all on their feet, cheering and sloshing drinks like nothing had happened.

For a few hours, Eddie was given the gift of forgetting that he had anything to be ashamed about and just enjoy the life he had now. So, of course, when the boys invited him out a week later, he was quick to accept their invitation.

“Sorry, I can’t do game night on Tuesday, I’m going out for drinks with the guys.” He declined Chimney’s offer of dinner while they dressed in the locker room before their weekend shift. “Buck, you’re welcome to join us if you don’t want to be the odd man out.” As much as he loved his sister, Eddie knew that his friend was less than keen on being the only person at dinner without a date.

Not that he and Buck would go as a date, but it always seemed easier when they could pair off in whatever way that meant to them.

“I don’t want to impose.” Buck began to protest but Eddie waved him off.

“It’s not imposing if I’m inviting you.”

Still, the man shook his head.

“Nah, I actually have plans on Tuesday anyways so I won’t be going to Maddie’s anyways.”

If he were paying closer attention, he might notice the way Buck avoided his eyes as he spoke – a sure sign that he was being less than truthful.

“You were just going to not show up and leave me as the odd man out? I, at least, gave you fair warning.” He tossed his uniformed shirt at Buck’s head, which he caught only after it hit him on the side of his face. Of course, that meant Eddie had to cross the locker room in only his slacks to retrieve the clothing item, leaving him standing next to Buck, shirtless, and all too aware of their close proximity.

“Have fun without me.” He saw the twinkle behind those blue eyes of something unspoken but instead of asking, he pulled the shirt out of his hands and pulled it over his head in a smooth motion on his way out the door.

Buck watched him leave with, breathless in a way he hadn’t felt in a long time. And something in his gut that squeezed hard at the thought of Eddie spending time with other people. Which was ridiculous. Eddie was allowed to have friends that he didn’t know about. Yes, they were best friends but that didn’t mean they owed each other a free pass to their entire lives. He’d just have to get over this jealousy.

“Why’d you lie to Eddie?” He flew against the lockers at the sound of Hen’s voice at his side.

“Why-why do you think I lied to Eddie?”

Her incredulous gaze was nearly as intimidating as Athena’s (had she been getting pointers?). “Because you don’t have plans on Tuesday. Why did you tell him you did?”

Was he that obvious? Could everyone see that he was jealous and he wanted to sulk at home rather than spend the evening with his sister, distracted and wondering what Eddie was up to?

“I didn’t want him to feel bad. If he’s not going to Maddie’s, then I’m not going to be the odd one out – like he said.”

Hen perched herself beside him against the lockers, her scrutiny turning soft. “He invited you to join him, you could have gone out with his army buddies. Is there a reason you didn’t want to?”

He didn’t want to be a burden, he’d have nothing in common with them, he didn’t want to feel like an obligation, Eddie deserved a night out with friends who weren’t him.

“It just didn’t seem like my thing.” Drinking at a bar didn’t seem like his thing? Hen didn’t have to voice her question but he shrugged it off regardless. “I’ll probably just hit the gym and do some laundry. I’m way behind anyways.” He pushed off the wall of lockers before she could question his lies any further.

Of course, he hated lying to his friends. It seemed better than admitting that he was feeling petty and jealous – like a child – over something so silly.

No matter how guilty he felt for the way he was acting, it still hurt to see Eddie strolling into the station on Wednesday morning with a smile on his face. He looked brighter than he had in a long time (since Shannon, probably). And was there a bounce in his step? Surely, he was imagining it; but he did seem happy. That was all that mattered, right? As long as Eddie was happy, he’d learn to get over his jealousy and find other friends to occupy his time.

Or perhaps he’d just be alone forever. That seemed like a likely alternative. He would adjust, adapt; he’d figure it out and everything would be fine.

Four months later, he wanted to smack his past self in the face for thinking that he could have a normal, well-adjusted reaction to anything. He was the guy who overreacted, who felt things so deeply and blew everything out of proportion.

Of course, he would see Eddie finding other friends as a sign that there was something wrong with him, and thus should isolate himself from everyone in his life. The problem was: Eddie hadn’t changed – not really. Sure, he went out with the guys a few nights a month and always came back with a smile on his face and a few stories to tell that Buck got to hear with the rest of the crew. But he kept up their weekly game night, and pizza night, and their trip to the baseball game that he told himself was out of pity for the expense of the tickets (but really, he was just excited to spend some time with his friend).

Eddie was his usual self, it was Buck who started declining game night or ending pizza night early, or feigning illness when Eddie told him about adult night at the observatory. He was the one who was pushing his friend away because some selfish part of him couldn’t handle not having someone’s attention 24/7. The more he told himself of all the reasons he was wrong, the more convinced he became of his need to isolate.

He should have known better.

“Eddie? It’s midnight, what are you doing here?” He groggily answered the door, stumbling when his mind finally caught up with him. “What happened to Christopher?”

“He’s fine.” The man was quick to put his hands out in a calming motion, walking straight past him and into the apartment without invitation – not that Eddie ever needed an invitation. “He’s at a sleepover. I wanted to talk to you.”

He’d figured it out. He must have. Eddie knew that Buck was acting like a dick and wanted to cut ties completely. Why did he have to do it in the middle of the night when it was already so dark and cold?

“You see me every day.” He closed the door despite his own instinct to run away.

“This isn’t really a work conversation.” There it was: the truth.

“I need a drink.” Buck was circling the bar and reaching for the fridge before Eddie could protest. He turned back with two water bottles in his hand (a force of habit, he supposed) and slid the other to the man taking his usual seat on the island.

It was such a minor thing but Buck had always found it amusing that even though he had a perfectly good table a few feet over, the two of them always gravitated towards the kitchen bar/island – he couldn’t remember which. Perhaps there was something to that, but he couldn’t figure out what.

“So what is it?”

“Actually, that’s what I wanted to ask you.” Two minutes in and Eddie was already nervously picking at the label of his bottle. This was going to hurt. “You’ve been distant lately; cancelling plans, lying to avoid spending time together. I appreciate that you still make time to see Christopher but you and I haven’t hung out in months. What’s up?”

After the last time he and Eddie split up – that is to say, they were separated as teammates – he’d felt so guilty about his favourite kid getting caught in the crossfire. So, even if Eddie never wanted to see him again, he was going to do all he could to still be there for Christopher. Although, it seemed especially cruel to make Buck confess all his wrongdoings instead of just yelling at him and walking away.

“There’s nothing up, I’ve just been busy.” Why he bothered to try and lie to his best friend would forever remain a mystery.

“You’ve never been able to lie to me, Buck, I don’t know why you’re doing it now but I’m worried.”

“Worried?” This was not the response he was expecting at all. What would Eddie have to be worried about?

“I’m worried that I’m losing my best friend and I don’t know why.”

There were moments in a person’s life that struck as lightning – hard and fast and completely unexpected. And there were some that rolled like thunder – highly anticipated but when it finally arrived, nothing could prepare for the aftershock. Buck finally understood the feeling of releasing a long-held breath only to feel the sensations trickle down his body, leaving pins and needles in their wake.

“I don’t want to be your best friend anymore.”

No puzzle pieces formed together, there was no sense of relief after letting go of this realization, but the moment the words left his mouth, they rang with truth. He didn’t want to see Eddie as a best friend, vying for time and caring from the sidelines of his life. He wanted to be in Eddie’s life. He wanted something new. He wanted-

“You don’t want to be friends anymore, what?”

“No!” He stumbled over his own shoes in an attempt to recover from his own misstep. “Well, yes, but not in the way you’re thinking.”

“What other way is there, Buck?” He followed as Eddie instinctively stepped away, confusion and hurt marring his face. That suddenly, very kissable face.

One step at a time.

“The way where we are something other than friends. Something romantic.” He ventured, drawing out each word as they formed in his mind.

“Something…” Eddie’s voice trailed off and Buck was gifted with the display of emotions that crossed his face. Confusion, searching, conclusion, understanding, realization, surprise, and finally a soft, shaking “Oh.”

“Yeah, oh.” Buck tried to smile in a comforting manner but it has difficult to concentrate when the air had left the room. “Is that okay?”

There had always been an understanding between the two men: words were not necessary for them to know what the other needed. They didn’t need to talk to come up with a plan to rescue someone from a three-story house. They didn’t need to talk to offer comfort after a call went badly and all they wanted was not to be alone. They didn’t need to talk to know when to pounce on Chimney when he had overplayed his turn on the game console. They knew each other – complimented one another in their silence – which made them an amazing team and wonderful friends.

In the silence following Buck’s question, he didn’t dare try to read Eddie’s expression, for fear of breaking his heart too soon.

“I-yeah it’s okay but,” Buck closed his eyes against the world. “I don’t know that I feel the same.”

“Yeah, that’s fine.” His mouth retreated from the conversation before his feet could make a decision. “But that’s why I’ve been…yeah.” When his feet finally caught up with his beating heart, they made their way towards the door. “So now that we’ve settled that, I’ll see you at work.”

Just get him out now. Do whatever you need to be alone. Get out. Find the silence so you can put yourself back together.

“Buck, shouldn’t we talk about th-”

“Nope.” He squeezed the handle to steady his shaking hands. “No, I think we’ve covered everything.” With a strength he didn’t possess, Buck opened the front door and stepped aside for Eddie to leave. “I’ll talk to you at work.”

He could hear the slow shuffling of Eddie’s steps as he made his way towards the door, stopping in front of Buck. They had never needed words to know what the other was saying (there had been days when they had been completely off and needed to make amends but with time, their skills had improved) and with just the steady breaths between them, Buck acknowledged Eddie’s apology and listened as he walked out the door.

It wasn’t until the engine of his truck roared out of the parking lot, that Buck allowed himself to close the door and wipe a hand over his face to clear the emotions he’d delicately kept at bay.

Eddie found himself numbly driving anywhere but home, his mind racing with the onslaught of realizations he’d been handed in such a short amount of time. How had he not seen it before? How had he not noticed the signs? How had he not understood how important that moment was? How had he not found the words to say he felt the same?

With nothing awaiting him at home, he drove for what felt like hours until he finally pulled up to his front door, feeling no less certain of what he should do next. Even so close to the safety of his bedroom, Eddie couldn’t bring himself to walk inside, choosing instead to lean against the steering wheel until the sun came up.

When he found himself burdened with so many conflicting thoughts, the only person he wanted to talk to was suddenly the only person he couldn’t share his fears with. What else was there to do but keep his emotions close to his chest until he could sort them out. Or maybe he’d make an appointment with Frank – that’s what he was for, right? – and see what an objective mind could come up with.

For now, he had to find the strength to go inside and get ready for work.

Because naturally he and Buck would be scheduled to work together the day after such an unsettling interaction. The universe would never give him an opportunity to adjust to his new mindset and perhaps come up with what he wanted to say to Buck. His friend deserved an answer – or perhaps closure – but he had nothing to give. No amount of sitting in his driveway with the engine turned off, would give him the words he needed to find before he was set to face Buck again.

Why is this a problem?

That question had drifted through his mind over again as the night slowly faded to daylight. He’d known for some time that Buck meant something significant to him. Perhaps it was in the role of best friend, or trusted partner, and occasionally he laid in bed wondering if he might mean something different – something romantic.

The thought of dating Buck hadn’t scared him the way he expected it might. In fact, he’d been circling around the daydream with startling frequency of late. So why, at the pivotal moment – the moment when he might actually get to fulfill those dreams – did he lie and say that he didn’t feel the same way? It was like he was predestined to break his own heart at every turn; first, he hurt his wife, then his son, then his best friend. But unlike with Shannon, Eddie had a chance to make up for his mistakes with the other two people who meant the world to him. He could spend the rest of his life apologizing to Christopher for leaving by showing up every single day. And he could apologize to Buck by…

By telling him the truth.

That the sudden confession had startled him and his brain hadn’t actually registered what he was saying until he was down the block. That he very much reciprocated, but he’d screwed up – like he always did (maybe he’d leave that part out).

He had to try, at least.

Besides, this was Buck. They always came back to each other; they always forgave each other.

“What do you mean, ‘no’?” Eddie blocked the other man’s path as they approached the station together. It hadn’t been difficult for Eddie to beat him to work and then all he had to do was wait. “Buck, I just want to talk.”

“I don’t want to talk, Eddie.” Buck side stepped his partner but Eddie caught him again. “Not right now. We have to focus on work.”

He’d never seen the man so pale and small. He was carefully balancing his work bag on one hunched shoulder, his neck and head cast down but even then, Eddie could see how tired his eyes looked, feel how cold his skin felt from exhaustion. Had either of them slept?

“What about after work? Come over and we’ll talk.”

“Talk about what?” It wasn’t quite a shout but they were quickly drifting into the territory of ‘not work appropriate levels of conversation’. “You told me you don’t feel the same – that’s fine. I just need a little time.” When Eddie moved to block his escape again, Buck looked into Eddie’s eyes properly for the first time all day and whispered “Please.”

Eddie let him pass.

Their shift together was uncomfortable to say the least. Buck barely spoke to anyone and his avoidance of Eddie was obvious to anyone who accidentally walked through the cold air between them. Eddie didn’t try to engage with him again but too often, he caught himself staring across the table at his friend, begging for some sign that this – like every other horrible thing between them – would pass.

As they packed up at the end of the day, he watched Buck sidestep Chimney’s attempts to engage in conversation, and nearly ran into Hen when she approached him – now doubt some tag team strategy to get the story from both parties at once.

Unfortunately for the paramedics, neither of the men were up for airing their dirty laundry. No, Eddie saved that for drinks with his army buddies a few nights later.

“So when are we actually going to meet this ‘Buck’ of yours?” Ian meant well (as well as he could when teasing his friends about his obvious crush). “I thought you were going to introduce us.”

Eddie stared into the bottom of his glass of ginger ale, wondering if it held any of the answers he so desperately needed. Instead, he downed the rest of his soda in one gulp. “Buck isn’t mine.”

“Ooh.” A few voices from the table echoed Sam’s ribbing. “Trouble in paradise?”

“You could say that.” He couldn’t exactly blame his loose tongue on the alcohol but he was sorely tempted to find a better excuse to share his feelings than simply ‘he needed someone to talk to’.

Like friends?

“Buck told me that he had feelings for me and I told him that I wasn’t sure I felt the same (even though that’s a lie). And now he’s freezing me out because I hurt him, but the only way I can make it up to him is if I talk to him. I don’t know how to make it right.”

It was an odd sensation to feel a weight lift off his chest – he was so used to carrying it all alone until he’d come to LA and even then, it was a hard habit to break – but confessing his frustrations to a room of receptive people did give him a sense of relief.

“Wait, hold on.” Ian shook his head. “You and Buck aren’t a couple? Could have fooled me, the way you go on about him.” Mostly receptive.

The trouble was: he wanted them to be a couple, and though he wasn’t sure Buck was still on board, he knew there was the potential to get everything he wanted. There was only one person who could get them there and it wasn’t any of the men sitting around the table in the dimly lit bar.

“We are not talking about my love life – or lack thereof – anymore.” He declared, rising to his feet. “The next rounds’ on me.” He was still waiting for their order when he felt a hand clap his shoulder and he jumped despite himself.

“Sorry,” Sam hissed in sympathy. “I should know better. I just wanted to say: fix it.” He grabbed half of the drinks as they were slid across the bar for Eddie to follow suit. “Do what you need to do to be happy – even if that means locking your boy in a closet until you sort it out.” Eddie held his balance as Sam lightly elbowed him with a smirk. “You talk about Buck like he’s someone special to you. Don’t lose that.”

It was Sam’s words that led Buck to open his door after midnight for the second time that week, to find an anxious Eddie eager to enter his apartment.

“What do you want, Eddie?” Without waiting for permission, the man walked through to the kitchen bar and began to lightly pace back and forth. He looked nervous, almost scared. What could he possibly have to say that was so terrifying? Was he fleeing the city because he couldn’t handle being around Buck any longer? No, that wasn’t it. Though his heart was still healing, he knew Eddie was not one to run away from his problems. Not that Buck was a problem. Was he?

“I want us to talk.” The man declared as he continued to run a hole in the hardwood floor. “And I don’t want you to kick me out again.”

Buck knew he’d been rash the other night in sending Eddie away before he could continue but the other option was listening to platitudes about their friendship (which he cherished greatly) and maintaining a professional attitude and he just couldn’t bring himself to hear it then.

The rest – the confrontation in the parking lot, the icing out – it had been to protect his heart while he readjusted the level of hope he was allowed to carry. He just needed time. Yet, here Eddie was, pushing his way through.

Just like you do.

“Fine.” He closed the door with just enough gracefulness to appease his grumpy neighbours. “Talk.”

Eddie stopped pacing when Buck approached. “No, we’re going to talk to each other.” He really didn’t want to talk about this awful situation between them. In fact, if they never spoke again, he would be perfectly content. He cursed his own traitorous heart for calling him a liar, then.

“What do you want me to say, Eddie?” He took the stool across from his friend when Eddie motioned for him to sit. Even now, it seemed important that the two of them never sat at the table.

“First, I want to ask you a question. Please be honest.” As much as his mind cried ‘no! You don’t owe him anything!’ his heart whispered ‘give him every chance’.

“Okay.”

“You said you were pulling away because you wanted to be something other than friends. Why?”

Buck couldn’t help the incredulous snort that escaped. “Why was I pulling away, or why do I want to be something other than friends? Because if I’m being honest, I’m trying to rethink that last one.” He silenced the voice shouting ‘liar’.

“No, why were you pulling away? What changed?”

His immediate response was to answer with ‘nothing’. To confess that nothing had changed except he suddenly came to his senses, even if those senses had gotten him hurt. But then, he let himself think back to the weeks and months when Eddie wasn’t around as often. When he suddenly had other people he would rather be with instead of him.

“I got jealous.” He confessed quietly. “You had your army buddies and you were spending less time with me. At first, I thought I was just jealous that you had other friends. It’s been just the two of us for some time and suddenly you weren’t always there.” He’d tried so hard to convince himself that he was just being selfish the way he always was; that he was simply meant to grow up and get over it. “Then I suddenly realized I wanted to be there with your friends – get to know them – but I didn’t want to be one of them.” Eddie’s eyes were too soft and bright to stare into any longer so he found a place on the counter between them that felt like neutral territory.

“I want you all to myself and I know that’s selfish but I want all of you.” Saying it out loud was meant to feel like relief but all Buck found was a pain in the center of his chest. “Seeing you and not knowing what to do: it was too hard. So I stepped back. And now that it’s all out there,” (And boy, was it all out there.) “I just need some time to readjust. That’s all I need.”

What he ‘needed’ was an infinite list of ever-changing desires, but several of the constants included Eddie and Christopher in his life. What he needed: was to put the genie back in the bottle and never realize his feelings in the first place. What he needed was to be happy.

“It’s not selfish.” He barely heard Eddie’s whispered words but he looked up to familiar, shining eyes. “Or if it is, then I’m selfish, too.”

It wasn’t quite like he’d heard a record scratch in his mind but the world most definitely stopped moving for a moment as his words set into place.

“You-what?”

Eddie reached out his hand but hesitated, placing it just between them. An offering instead of a command: Buck could answer if he wanted, when he was ready.

“When you told me…what you told me,” that was certainly one way of putting it. “I panicked.” Buck didn’t echo his nervous laughter but he did nothing to deter it, too lost in absorbing all of the new information.

“I thought maybe you meant it some other way, or I was dreaming, or I wasn’t good enough for you.” How could Eddie ever believe that he wasn’t good enough? Even if this was his long-winded way of letting him down gently, Buck made a promise to never let him believe that again. “So I told you that I wasn’t sure how I felt but that was a lie.”

The more Eddie spoke, the more Buck allowed his heart to take on just a little more hope. “And I wanted to tell you the truth but I could never get you alone.” Because Buck had made a point of walking in the other direction whenever Eddie entered the room, entirely born out of self-preservation that was, apparently, unfounded.

“You know my friends, they thought we were dating.”

“Wait, really?”

His laugh had elements of the joy he knew Eddie was capable of and it gave him permission to relax against the bar just a little bit. “Yup. They kept asking when they were going to meet the guy I couldn’t stop talking about. And then they told me to do what I need to do to be happy.” Eddie sighed in conclusion. “So I came here.”

Buck tried to speak a few times but no words ever came. He had let himself hope for this outcome too often, but it never felt like this. His heart felt as though it would burst from his chest and his ears were ringing like he was flying through high altitude. His eyes darting across Eddie’s face over and over, looking for a hint that he was being insincere but all he saw was the same terrified and shy desire that he assumed was in his own expression.

“So you like me?” Buck ventured.

“Yeah, Buck.” Eddie chuckled in return. “I like you.”

Good. “And I like you.”

“Glad to hear it.”

“And your friends think we’re dating.”

“They may have hinted at it, yes.”

It seemed a pity that Eddie’s hand was resting between them, completely unaccompanied, so Buck linked their fingers.

“Do you want to go on a date?”

It felt right, feeling Eddie’s thumb gently swipe across his skin and squeeze their fingers with all the joy they couldn’t express for fear of breaking their quiet bubble of hope.

“Honestly, I want to kiss you right now.” The shiver of anticipation was one he’d been waiting for, for a very long time. “But I’m also very tired. I haven’t really slept since that night.”

Buck found himself simultaneously relieved and guilty to learn that he hadn’t been alone in his sleeplessness so instead, he pulled Eddie to his feet.

“Do you have anywhere to be in the morning?” When Eddie shook his head, he smiled. “My bed’s pretty big. What do you say to sleeping – just sleeping – and then see about the rest of it in the morning.”

Without hesitation, he melted into Eddie’s smile. “That sounds perfect.”

He had done much scarier things in his lifetime – hell, he’d gone to war when he had a newborn son waiting for him at home – but somehow, walking into the pub with his boyfriend by his side was what really got him sweating.

“Hey,” Buck bumped his shoulder with an encouraging smile the way he had since the day they met. “it’s gonna go great.”

It didn’t entirely ease his anxiety but he also had the distinct realization that he could handle whatever happened because he wouldn’t have to handle it alone.

“I know.”

He spotted the group easily enough, the group of boisterous men in the corner booth, exchanging loud war stories and wiping up their sloshed drinks (because they were raised to be polite young men, thank you, ma’am). The moment they caught sight of Eddie they waved him over and the two made their way to join the platoon.

“Hey guys, I see you started drinking without me.” He greeted the men with a smile.

“Well Kelley started around noon.” Ian shoved his friend’s shoulder. “So unless you wanted to skip…whatever it is you two were doing before this…”

“We were at work.” Buck replied quickly with a mischievous smirk to his cheeks. The man really was shameless, even when he was telling the truth. “Hi, I’m Buck,” he extended his hand to the closest person – Sam – who took it immediately. “it’s nice to meet you all.”

Thankful for his boyfriend’s ability to charm the pants off of anyone he met (though the pants-loosing was a super power he reserved for one person in particular), Eddie allowed himself to relax into the evening. “Buck these are some of the men I was on tour with. This is Sam, Ian, Harry, Erik, and Cole.” Buck greeted them each with a polite nod and handshake. “Guys, this is Buck.”

“Please tell me you two are finally having sex.” Ian shook Buck’s hand enthusiastically, laughing at the double take from both men. “Eddie here has been mooning over you for months.”

If it were possible for the floor to swallow him whole, he would pray for an earthquake. The knowing look on Buck’s face, paired with the snickers from around the table, told him that he wouldn’t be hearing the end of it for some time.

“Mooning?” Buck teased as they took their seats next to one another. “Eddie, I had no idea you mooned.” He was well aware that they both mooned over one another (as evidenced by the amount of times Chimney had asked them to stop looking at each other while they were on duty before they were arrested for indecent exposure) but he didn’t correct his boyfriend.

“Suddenly I’m feeling very down to earth.” He rolled his eyes at Buck’s faux indignation before they turned their attention to the rest of the table. “So, what were we talking about?”

Erik waved him off without waiting for the others to respond. “Doesn’t matter. We want to talk to Buck here. I bet there’s some things he knows about Eddie that we’d like to know.”

He knew before he asked Buck to accompany him to guys’ night, that the boys would latch on to him and search for blackmail material. Fortunately, he came prepared.

“And I know there’s some things about these guys that Buck would find hilarious. Like, guess who got caught sneaking out of the captain’s quarters after someone set off the fire alarm. And they were naked. And so was the captain.”

It wasn’t difficult to discern the culprit from the blush in his cheeks, but Buck still snorted at Cole with a mixture of shock and approval.

“I was fired a few months into being a probie because I got caught stealing the firetruck to have sex. Twice.”

If there was one thing Eddie should have known, it was that Buck was as shameless as he was handsome. Of course, he would reveal stories about his life that even his partner hadn’t heard before.

“You said I couldn’t kiss you goodbye in the parking lot because we had to be professional!”

“Because I got fired for having sex in a firetruck.” Buck matched his indignant energy with a smile. “I’m not going to risk getting fired again.”

“It’s a kiss, Buck, we’re not going to get fired for a kiss (not in LA, anyways).”

“Well I know that if I kiss you, I won’t be able to stop. And the things I want to do to you would get us fired – even in LA.”

“You are both very horny and very sweet.” Eddie shoved his boyfriend lightly, to accompany his hidden smile of giddy joy. This thing between them was only a few weeks old and they were still learning what would change and what would stay exactly the same. So far, it had been nothing but happy adjustments and stolen kisses. Eddie knew exactly what Buck meant about never wanting to stop – and he hoped that feeling never went away.

“I feel so sorry for your coworkers.” They snapped to Sam, taking in the snickers from the other men as they came back to reality. “I don’t know how they get anything done with you two like this constantly.”

“They don’t.” The pair replied in unison, earning another round of laughter from the table.

Eddie recovered first. “Enough about us, we’re here to spend a night among friends, so whose gonna by us a drink?”

Truth be told: Eddie didn’t mind the sniggering or taunting because it all came from a place of love – a place he wasn’t sure he’d ever find like this. He had his son, his family, his friends, his partner, and even if it wasn’t perfect, there was certainly hope.

#cj writes things #911 fox #911 fic #buddie #buddie fic #oneawkwardcookie #love cookie #love confession #jealousy #prompt fill #evan buckley #eddie diaz

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codenamesazanka · 4 years

Text

Well I attempted the essay and I got stuck on the first sentence, so have this very draft-y fic I wrote a while ago that somewhat encapsulates my feelings about Villains in a way similar to what the essay ideally would be like:

AU where somehow Spinner got caught by Heroes during Gigantomachia month; don’t ask me how, all I wanted was to write bits of scenes of Toshinori interacting with Spinner and pretending I know things about psychology.

“…no criminal record beyond League of Villains activity. So we brought in a de-radicalization specialist, but seeing how he’s refusing to talk, and with the Commission breathing down our necks, he’s probably going to be transferred to Tartarus the moment the prosecutor’s office gets through to the judge…”

Despite all his years as a Hero catching criminals and handing them over to the justice system, Toshinori never was too familiar with how the process actually worked. The paperwork he had to file was already a nightmare - the thought of learning the intricacies of the courts barely entered his mind. As the counselor beside him talked, he could only nod, nothing to say, attempting to roughly sketch out the path she was describing for the young man on the other side of the glass.

Iguchi Shuuichi had been given the full bind - maximum restraint and containment, every part of him that can and might move strapped down onto his chair; but he seemed to have shut himself away too. He sat with his shoulders hunched as much as they were allowed, face turned down and away from the rest of the world, eyes shut to everything around him. Since Toshinori had first seen him from the observation room about half-and-hour ago, Iguchi hadn't moved at all. It had been three days since his capture. Toshinori wondered if he had been as still as this the whole time.

“—Dr. Nakaya will do another session later this afternoon, but…” The counselor sighed. “It’s a pity. He’s probably the best candidate for the program too.”

“…You called it the “de-radicalization program,” correct?” Toshinori asked, turning to the counselor, who immediately gave him her full attention. “May I ask what exactly that is?”

“Of course, of course! Essentially it’s rehabilitation focused on having the individual reflect on their belief system and rejecting extremism. Allowing them to accept different perspectives and solutions, and understand how their current way of thinking is both harmful to society and themself.”

“That sounds a little too easy for this kind of situation.” Tsukauchi said, looking up from some notes he was taking. “Plus vague. How is that different from any other rehabilitation programs in prisons?”

And Toshinori had to agree with that. He looked back at Iguchi, still unmoving. “You said he was the “best candidate”. That means he’s different as well? From other Villains.”

“That’s what we hoped.” The counselor paused. “Have you read his profile yet?”

[…]

“Build a relationship with him?” Toshinori asked, frowning.

“Another way to put it is ‘treating him as a complex, multifaceted person’,” Dr. Nakaya said with a wry smile. “You see, Mr. Yagi, we think of terrorists - of Villains as single-minded boogeymen that have no history or future. But they’re human too, with a human brain and human emotions, motivations. Our program’s theory is that young people like Iguchi Shuuichi felt something significant lacking in his life, and in trying to fill that hole, they turn to philosophies like that of Stain.

Iguchi Shuuichi fits that model almost exactly. His family told me that he had been a hikikomori. For years. He was aimless, friendless, he ‘had no light’ in his eyes, as his mother said. Then suddenly Stain appeared on the news, and he became obsessed. In just a matter of weeks, he left home to dedicate his life to— to whatever the League is working towards. Interviews with your students said that he was fanatic when talking about Stain. So isn’t that a grand narrative? Having what seems like a noble purpose, having a group of people that would take him into the fold, believing he is doing something important. World-changing. There’s a reason research has shown that many terrorists and extremists got their start as young adults - it’s a time of change and possibilities, and it can be scary not knowing how you’ll spend the rest of your life.”

“So if you were to… become his friend…”

Dr. Nakaya chuckled, looking pleased. “We don’t have to necessarily be his friend, but if we show we are trying to understand him and we want to talk to him, that fulfills the social need - that people acknowledge us, are willing to spend time with us, want to share things with us. That should give us a cognitive opening - get him to lower his guard and defenses, which will make him more willing to listen to us too.”

Toshinori took note of the ‘we’s, but didn’t pursue it.

[…]

The list of Iguchi’s ‘likes’ included titles of video games, movies, and books. At least, Toshinori assumed they were titles; none of the words sounded familiar to him.

“He also apparently likes knives,” Dr. Nayaka said. “But I didn’t include that for obvious reasons. Well, I’m saving that and ‘Stain’ for last if this doesn’t work.”

“I don’t know anything about video games,” Toshinori said. He gave an embarrassed grin. “Though I guess I can ask him to explain them to me…”

“That list is just suggestions. Ask him about his favorite food, about his family. Tell a joke. Use your status as All Might.” She shrugged. “As long as you get him talking.”

[…]

The intercom buzzed. “You can leave now if you want, All Might.”

That felt like admitting defeat. Toshinori stayed in his chair. Nothing he was saying was working, nothing had worked, except…

He took a deep breath. “Shigaraki Tomura…”

And there it was again - Iguchi tensing up, breath quickening.

fulfills the social need - that people acknowledge us, are willing to spend time with us

want to share things with us

Toshinori said, “I knew Shigaraki Tomura—”

The intercom came on again, and this time it screamed. “You know that’s prohibited, All Might! He’s not allow— Ow, what—” The guard’s voice was suddenly replaced by Dr. Nakaya’s. “No, this is good, this is good! Keep going—” Then it was both voices, along with sounds of a scuffle, before it cut completely.

Iguchi looked at Toshinori with a great deal of suspicion and contempt. “I already told you that you’re not going to get anything out of me about him. No matter what you do or say or— or do to me.”

Toshinori paused, then smiled slightly. “You’re very loyal to him. That’s...good.”

There was an instant reaction, Iguchi’s facial expression giving away to what looked like shock and chagrin. He opened his mouth to say something, but then snapped it shut.

From behind Toshinori was the sound of someone pounding on glass and muffled yelling, but he ignored it.

make him more willing to listen to us

In some capacity, Iguchi Shuuichi cared, or at least had an interest in information about his leader. And that was something they had in common.

“I knew his grandmother.” Toshinori said, the words feeling rough in his throat as he forced them out. “Shigaraki’s grandmother. She was like a mother to me.”

It was like collapsing a wall. Toshinori spoke, and Iguchi stared at him, his defenses falling to reveal the vortex of emotions behind it, confusion, horror, anger, too many to distinguish.

“Had things been... different, maybe I would’ve— he’s her grandson, so I would’ve been like an—”

“Why are you telling me this?” Spinner asked. He sounded as uneasy as Toshinori felt. “What does this have to do—”

Toshinori found himself standing up. As if there was something urgent he had to do, something he must head for immediately. His body moved without him thinking—

“I want to help him.” Toshinori said. “I have to, I have to save him. There are— many things I have to do…for him, for Shigaraki Tomura. So please, young Iguchi, if there’s anything you know that can help…”

#nalslastworkingbraincell #nalwrites #fanfic #kinda #AU #Spinner #yagi Toshinori

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dwellordream · 4 years

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I'm loving all this great discussion you've got going on about Rhaenyra Targaryen. How would you have preferred GRRM to have written her? What could have given her greater nuance and made her less "total hot mess" and more "nuanced and possibly tragic antiheroine"? Thanks for your generosity in answering all of these questions!

Thank you so much! I hope I’m not annoying people with my constant complaints about Fire and Blood haha. Just as a whole I think Fire & Blood would have benefitted as being a series of interwoven novellas, not a mock-medieval-history of the past 300 years of Westeros. GRRM’s greatest talent as a writer, imo, is in how he develops characters as nuanced and realistic people with understandable ambitions and fears through their own perspectives. That’s lost out on in F&B. Occasionally it breaks into more ‘novel-like’ scene descriptions, but overall it’s supposed to read as a dry historical text, only it’s an often contradictory, absurdly biased, all over the place, relying on shock value dry historical text. I get that part of the whole idea was to present various viewpoints of certain characters and events and ‘leave it up to the reader to decide’ who they were inclined to believe, but really it’s just more of a vehicle for misogyny than anything else, since we exclusively get the viewpoints of a couple of very sexist maesters and... Mushroom. Yay. Okay for example if I was going to handle Rhaenyra’s character while still hitting the basic plot points of her story (and this is not me saying I think I’m a better writer than GRRM or that I ‘know his characters better’, it’s just my personal interpretation), I think my goal would be to humanize her to the audience of readers while not shying away from her darker moments. She’s supposed to be controversial and provocative. However that doesn’t mean she has to be totally 2-dimensional or such a hot mess. I think I would start by emphasizing Rhaenyra’s position for the first 10 years of her life. She is the coddled, cossetted, and beloved only child of Viserys and his adored wife Aemma. She has never had a sibling, she’s never had to share any attention, her parents dote on her, as does all the court. Of course she is going to be spoilt, high-maintenance, proud, and temperamental when she doesn’t get her way. However, Rhaenyra is not just a bratty princess stereotype (or, she doesn’t have to be). She is also an extremely brave and determined little girl. She is extroverted; she likes socializing and being around people, she’s confident and assertive and used to having her voice heard. At the age of seven, she single-handedly tames and bonds with a young dragon. That is an extremely impressive feat for a child. You can’t argue, bully, or demand your way into riding a dragon, a wild beast. Rhaenyra had to show some serious grit and tenacity to do that at such a young age, so she’s not just this puffed up little fragile flower who wails when she doesn’t get her way. Rhaenyra also has a great relationship with her father. He doesn’t seem to hold the fact that she is his only child and a daughter against her; he praises and shows her off in front of his court, he makes sure she is always by his side. Rhaenyra is used to being honored before everyone. She is her father’s cupbearer, she is present while he holds court, she is exposed to a high level of adult political interactions and basic courtesies. She’s probably pretty bright for her age, and has a keen understanding of who is who and what everyone at court’s relations to one another are. She’s not been kept locked up in a nursery playing with toys, she is seen as an active member of court and her father’s little shadow. She also likely has a very good relationship with her mother Aemma. Rhaenyra is Aemma’s pride and joy, her sole surviving child after the trauma of a very young marriage and multiple miscarriages and stillbirths. Aemma has no close siblings of her own, and never knew her own mother Daella; no doubt she prizes her relationship with Rhaenyra and hopes Rhaenyra does not experience what she did as a little girl, growing up without a mother and only much-older half siblings in the Vale. Then there is her Uncle Daemon. Daemon is the ‘fun’ relative little kids adore. He doesn’t treat Rhaenyra like a child, he doesn’t condescend to her, he brings her back all sorts of exciting and interesting toys and gifts, he takes time out of his day to spend with her, he takes her on outings and makes her feel special and loved. He’s not always busy with the mundane aspects of ruling that her father likely is, he’s not caught up with his own wife and children, he has all sorts of wild tales of adventure and mystery. It’s easy to see why Rhaenyra loves him so. Then Aemma dies. No doubt this is a horrible shock to Rhaenyra. She’s a little girl, just eight years old. She’s not necessarily that familiar with the harsh realities of pregnancy and childbirth, she just knew she was getting a little brother or sister, and now her mother is gone, just like that. Aemma died during the birth. Rhaenyra never got to say goodbye, and her little brother dies a day later, compounding the grief and horror. Her father is heartbroken and reeling, and her favorite uncle is out drinking and whoring. But Rhaenyra is named her father’s heir. Her mom might be gone, but her dad still loves her, and he loves her so much, in her eyes, that he is willing to buck the precedent that set him on the throne (passing over Rhaenys) in order to name her his heir. She’s Princess of Dragonstone; a whole island! Despite her grief and rage over her mother being ripped away from her, this is probably thrilling for a little girl. She’s going to be queen one day. Everyone loves her and wants her to be happy. She’s going to be the first Targaryen queen in her own right. Doesn’t that make her special and chosen? Then a year later her father remarries. Rhaenyra likely isn’t happy about this; her mother has only been dead a year!- but she is willing to try to get along with her new stepmother, Alicent, who probably seems like less of a mother and more of an older sister figure, just a teenaged girl of 18. Alicent is smart and pretty and Rhaenyra remembers her from court as a very small girl. Her father is Rhaenyra’s father’s Hand, someone Rhaenyra probably knows well, maybe even considers almost family, having grown up seeing him all the time, exchanging gifts at holidays and birthdays, attending tourneys with his family, etc. Then Alicent gets pregnant, something 9 year old Rhaenyra probably wasn’t really thinking about. She has a son, and people are saying he will be king, that her claim doesn’t matter. Then Alicent has another son. She doesn’t have time for Rhaenyra anymore. She’s not Rhaenyra’s mother. She has her own sons, and Aegon will be king, even though it’s not fair, even though Father promised she would be queen, even though Mother is dead and never coming back. These are three major events happening in short succession in the life of a precocious little girl. Rhaenyra likely feels hurt and confused and angry. Sure, her father hasn’t officially declared Aegon as his heir, but Alicent and her father are pushing it, people Rhaenyra thought she could trust. Who is she supposed to rely on now? Well, there’s Uncle Daemon, who suddenly seems like less of the fun uncle, almost like a big brother, and more of.. something else. He doesn’t treat her like a little girl anymore, he calls her beautiful and encourages her to show off her good looks and charm, assures her that regardless of what her father says or does, he will always care for her. She can count on him! And Ser Criston Cole, her longtime crush- well, he just sees her as that spoilt little girl. She’s growing up! She’s not a child anymore but he just doesn’t get it. She’s certain he feels the same way about her, that he loves her back, but his vows and white cloak are in the way, and he won’t stop seeing her as the little princess, not a girl of sixteen, a woman grown! She doesn’t have a mom to talk to this stuff about, but there is Uncle Daemon, and he knows pretty much everything about love and seduction; that’s why there’s all those wild tales about him. If she asks him to help her show Criston that she’s a woman now and wants to be treated as such, he wouldn’t turn her down, would he? Besides, he treats her like a grownup. He thinks she’d be an amazing queen. Father and him fight all the time, but Father’s blinded by his love for Alicent- she’s manipulating him! Uncle Daemon gives her advice, and she tries to impress Criston, but it backfires. He leaves her feeling humiliated and rejected. It’s not fair, she’s the princess, she’s supposed to be good at everything, but he acted like she was wrong to try to show him how much she cares and wants to be with him! Now he won’t talk to her anymore, and Father is sending Uncle Daemon, who seems like her one true friend, away from court because of some stupid rumors that he ‘deflowered her’. Alicent is saying she should be married to Aegon, her half-brother who she can’t stand; he’s a spoilt little creep, always groping servant girls and kissing up to their father. Dragonstone seems like the escape she needs from all of this, but Father is threatening to strip it from her unless she marries Laenor- Laenor who she knows isn’t even into women! They’re not even close friends. He doesn’t want to marry her anymore than she wants to marry him, only their fathers are insisting on it. Daemon’s gone and she has no idea when he’s coming back, and Harwin is sweet and says he loves her, but he would have never been accepted as her husband. Still, at least he’ll never leave her or turn on her, the way everyone else has. And that is basically how I would cover Rhaenyra’s childhood and adolescence in a way that I think at least gives her some understandable motivations, some nuance, and some real emotion beyond ‘she threw a fit when she didn’t get her way’.

#fire and blood #rhaenyra targaryen #ask

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mangadumpingground · 3 years

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Now some background information on our two favorite girls:

Kurosawa Yurine

In the same class as Ayaka, she is a "genius" in a nutshell. Nobody can beat her and she usually spends her time sleeping. Yet one day, after Ayaka has helped her open herself a tiny bit, she falls in love and becomes obsessed with her, thinking she has found the one person who can best her.

The Ace: She is good at everything she does, be it in studies, sports, or even art. But since she succeeds at everything without even trying, she can't get invested in anything.

Animal Motifs: During her more excitable moments, she's drawn with dog ears.

Asleep in Class: Her default mode. If she's ever seen awake during class, it's because the teacher woke her up.

Caring Gardener: Her increasingly genuine interest in gardening parallels her growing sociability as the series progresses. She starts as an isolated girl who joined the gardening club more or less out of obligation, to a caring senpai who's willing to make friends and tries to make the gardening club prosper again. By the end of the series, she decides that she wants to become a florist.

Character Development: She has gained quite a few social skill points since the beginning of the series, and has become slightly less fixated on Ayaka alone (although she's still her main motivation). She even decides to join a club eventually. Chapter 22-23 is an important step, as for the first time, Yurine tries to interact with Ayaka not as a "rival" or a one-sided crush, but as someone she genuinely cares and worries for, giving her words of comfort that would have been unthinkable at the start of the series. Volume 7, being mostly from her point of view, emphasizes how much more fulfilling her life has become since she met Ayaka… and how much Ayaka, on the other hand, is still stuck in a state of mind not unlike that of the early Yurine.

Cool Big Sis: Sumire sees her as this, and well, she has reasons to.

Covert Pervert: She may not show it all the time, but in addition to their competition, she's also definitely curious of Ayaka's body.

Deuteragonist: She's as much of a protagonist as Ayaka, as a good chunk of the chapters about their relationship are from her own point of view. Her Character Development is also somewhat more noticeable than Ayaka's.

Ditzy Genius: Sure she can ace any test and learn at the speed of light, but that doesn't prevent her from occasionally being strangely clueless or taking odd actions − like trying to catch a paper stuck in a tree, even though it's obviously out of her reach and she's sitting on the second floor window.

Friendless Background: According to herself. In the first chapter, Chiharu notes that her excess of ability makes her hard to approach, and she is pretty distant herself. Though meeting Ayaka, Mizuki and Ai helped her open up it seems.

Green-Eyed Monster: Downplayed but clearly played straight. Yurine envies/admires Ayaka because she has a "role" in their school (see I Just Want to Have Friends below), and participates in life to a degree that Yurine can't.

Heavy Sleeper: Because she feels like she has nothing better to do than sleep, as she considers herself a bother for other people.

I Just Want to Be Normal: She's sick of people praising, relying on or being jealous of her because of her talent. All she wants is to find someone who will make her feel like an ordinary girl, and Ayaka is that person.

I Just Want to Have Friends: Played with. She wants to belong somewhere, but is too dismissive of (or possibly disillusioned from past experiences with) people to engage with them.

Innocently Insensitive: She's so apathetic about talking to anyone, for any reason, that she comes off as rude. By the end of volume 7, she has thankfully improved quite a bit in this department.

Insufferable Genius: Has shades of this when she rubs Ayaka's "no.2" ranking in her face just to piss her off.

Lonely at the Top: And one reason she falls in love with Ayaka is that, finally, someone seems to be able to (eventually) best her.

Luminescent Blush: In chapter 35, she sports this when Ayaka holds her hand (because Yurine forgot her gloves); and later, for the first time her teasing backfires as Ayaka's (supposedly reluctant) kiss completely makes her lose her composure.

Mood-Swinger: Usually aloof and bored, but whenever she is with Ayaka, she can go from euphoric to teasing to pouty to Cloud Cuckoolander, all in an instant. In any case, she is clearly in heaven just by being with her.

No Social Skills: Generally ignores people, doesn't censor her speech, often intrudes on Ayaka's personal space, etc. As of chapter 22, she's improved with regard to the latter.

Photographic Memory: Implied, as she can memorize an entire textbook page with one casual reading.

Too Much Information: She ogles Ayaka. We know this because she tells her.

The Gadfly: An expert at rubbing Ayaka the wrong way.

The Tease: She takes an intense delight in playing with Ayaka, often physically. It can go quite far, yet the latter shows surprisingly little resistance to it.

Single-Target Sexuality: She has eyes only for Ayaka and only seems to feel any kind of satisfaction when she is at her side. Though chapter 11 subverts this when Ayaka tells her that in the end, she would just love anyone who can beat her. Yurine's answer is that it might be true, to Ayaka's shock. Afterwards she herself starts to worry that her feelings for Ayaka may not go further than that.

"Shut Up" Kiss: Gives one to Ayaka in chapter 12, when the latter warns her that her club activities might detract her from the tests.

Supreme Chef: Par for the course. So supreme that she can cook while sleeping.

Took a Level in Kindness: Through her interactions with Ayaka, Ai, and the gardening club, she becomes considerably less of a jerk over time, although she still has her occasional bouts of teasing.

Shiramine Ayaka

A self-proclaimed "model student", she is obsessed with being the first at everything and thus sees her world turned upside-down when Yurine appears in high school.

Aggressive Submissive: Kind of. For all her defiance, Yurine can play her like a harp when she's in a flirtatious mood.

Armor-Piercing Question: She gives one to Yurine in chapter 11, but she's the one hit hard by Yurine's laconic answer.Ayaka: You say I'm special to you but… in the end, you would like anyone able to beat you, wouldn't you?" Yurine: *Beat*… You may be right.

Belligerent Sexual Tension: Not belligerent on Yurine's side, but on hers, definitely.

Bitch in Sheep's Clothing: Subverted. When she's alone with people close to her like Mizuki or (though she hates to admit it) Yurine, she's quite aggressive and stubborn. But that doesn't mean the kindness and helpfulness she shows towards her classmates isn't genuine. The few times she has a supporting role in another girl's arc (mostly in volume 8 with Hikari and 9 with Mikaze), she appears much friendlier than when she's the focus.

Character Development: Chapter 15 shows that she has largely gotten used to Yurine's presence and has become somewhat more conscious and accepting of her sweet side. In any case she doesn't reject her as strongly as early on. Continued in chapter 23 where she lets Yurine spend the night with her on the beach, whispering what seems to be a "thank you" and kissing her forehead. At that point, while she still wants to defeat her, she no longer shows any desperation or anger about it. By chapter 40, her motivation has shifted from wanting to defeat Yurine so that she can forget about her to wanting to defeat her so that she can admit her own feelings to her.

Class Representative: Unsurprisingly, she seems to be this (at least in role).

Determinator: She will not give up until she has gotten her first place back from Yurine, and won't allow Yurine to give up either. By chapter 35 it actually has become a double-edge sword in their relationship: she refuses to bond with Yurine further as long as she hasn't defeated her, but at the same time she won't acknowledge any bond with her beyond their competition (despite obviously showing that she cares for her). This is the opposite situation from chapter 11 mentioned above, in a way.

Expressive Hair: Mostly in the early chapters, where they tended to float around a lot. It became more straight and static as the art got somewhat cleaner around volume 5.

Go-Getter Girl: Ayaka sees it as absolutely imperative to be the best at absolutely everything.

Good Angel, Bad Angel: Subverted, as their roles are reversed. The good angel tells her to focus on being the best and reject Yurine at all costs; the bad angel tells her that Yurine isn't a bad person and that there's nothing wrong with being friends with her.

Hidden Buxom: She turns out to be far more busty than she seems in her uniform. She's apparently a D-cup according to Yurine.

Not So Different: It's not as immediately obvious as with Yurine, being the School Idol and helping various people around at school, but as we go on it's increasingly clear that she doesn't have any actual friends either. Mizuki even sarcastically points it out in chapter 18.In another sense, during Ayaka's Heroic BSoD she acts antisocial and listless, much like Yurine's default state. Again, this is pointed out by Yurine herself (who had some Character Development in the meantime) in chapter 35.

Out of Focus: Despite technically being a protagonist, there are actually very few chapters from her point of view (if you don't count the extras). Chapter 1 and 2, chapter 11, half of chapter 15, chapter 22-23, chapter 40 and that's pretty much it; in other chapters she only appears for a few pages, if at all, and volume 7 is primarily centered on Yurine with Ayaka in a supporting role. It doesn't help that, rather ironically, Ayaka almost only interacts with Yurine (and sometimes Mizuki) while Yurine herself intervenes in other characters' arcs. This only changes in the last two volumes, where she briefly gives advice to Mikaze in volume 9 and finally gets full focus in volume 10.

School Idol: And that's her pride, even if Yurine is no.1 in grades.

Second Place Is for Losers: She does not take losing to Yurine by three points lightly.Mizuki: Why does it bother you so much to be second? It's awesome. Ayaka: Yeah, for someone like you who is around the 150th place, being first or second probably doesn't make much of a difference!

Smart People Wear Glasses: She occasionally sports these when studying.

Tareme Eyes: Art Evolution made her distinctively drooping eyes more prominent, making her look somewhat less aggressive in later volumes. It might also serve to outline her bad eyesight.

Tsundere: While she usually shows an admirable façade at school, she shows a more aggressive side when alone with Mizuki, and completely loses her composure when it comes to Yurine. She can admit she is awesome and can't help but look at her constantly, but refuses to acknowledge that she's attracted to her. Made more amusing by the fact that even Yurine herself can see it. Interestingly though, that dynamic starts to be reversed in volume 7-8, where Yurine is now the one losing her composure while Ayaka calmly listens to her worries.

Well Done Daughter Girl: Implied in a flash-back, where her mother scolds her because she got "only" 95/100 at a test, while Mizuki's mother praises her for getting an 88. And confirmed in chapter 22 where Ayaka breaks down under the pressure and decides to say "screw that, I no longer care if I'm not the best".

Workaholic: She will study to death and work harder than any student, but she admits than she doesn't really have a precise goal beyond "being no. 1". This seems to come at least partly from her mother's overly high expectations.

#kiss and white lily for my dearest girl

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quietnqueer · 3 years

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Why do I find it so hard to *own* my loner lifestyle?

I love my loner lifestyle, I dearly do.

However, I really struggle to *own* it.

When someone asks me ‘what I got up to at the weekend’, I squirm. When someone asks me ‘what you doing for the holidays?’, I want to run away and hide.

Why, though? Why is it that I get so scared/shy/embarrassed to talk about my life, essentially?

Because I worry what people will think about me.

I worry they’ll think I’m weird,

That there’s something wrong with me,

That I’m lonely, uninteresting, living a half-life,

That I’m sad, tragic, pathetic.

There’s a number of reasons why I think this:

My teenage hell. I didn’t have any friends between the ages of 11 – 14. Rejected by my peers for being ‘too quiet’, I become the girl who spent lunchtimes by herself in the library. Of course, this only made me even more of a social pariah, for there is no greater shame than to be a billy-no-mates, to be seen to be hanging out on your own; it simply isn’t ‘normal’. My teachers and parents reinforced this as well. They made me believe that my social isolation, my inability to ‘fit in’ and behave all giddy and rowdy like the other girls, meant there was something wrong with me, something that needed to be fixed: ‘You need to talk more, socialise more, mix more with your peers’ type-thing.

I still bear the psychic wounds caused by this blaming and shaming today, and this is why I hesitate to be open about my solitary ways. I fear that people will see me as they did when I was younger: as the loser loner girl who just needs to learn to be more social.

The assumption that alone = lonely. It seems that society is becoming increasingly brainwashed by the idea that to be single/to live alone/to do things by yourself makes you lonely. Health and happiness come from having others’ company, we are told. Too much time alone and you’re headed for the psych ward and/or an early grave. As such, spending time/doing things alone is more commonly seen as something to be pitied; a sad state of affairs; something to keep an eye on, because who can really, truly, be happy solitarily? This is also why I get uncomfortable talking about my loner life: because I don’t want people’s pity. I don’t want them to ‘aww’ me, to feel sorry for me; I don’t want them belittling and baby-talking me: ‘Won’t you be lonely?’ ‘I hate to think of you on your own’, etc.

Extrovert Supremacy!

“Extrovert-Supremacists confuse their lifestyle with life itself.” Shy Radicals

Extrovert Supremacy tells us that the only life worth living is one which involves ‘going out’, interacting with other human beings, doing lots of sociable things. And this is what makes for most conversation: people talk to each other about what they got up to with other people; they share stories about the fun times they’ve had with other folks. People don’t just want to talk about what you did, they want to know who you did it with as well.

When I’m asked about my weekends/holidays/home life, I stiffen, go all shy, get self-conscious, because I worry people will think me ‘sad’/‘not very exciting’ because I live a solitudinous life; I don’t go to parties, take fancy holidays, or do stuff with family; I basically just stay home a lot. And it doesn’t seem to matter how much I like my cosy nights in, my meals for one, my Saturday evenings spent writing, my solitary walks round the park, my trips to the cinema alone: I still can’t shake the feeling that my life is somehow ‘small’ and ‘boring’ in comparison to the lives of the extrovert-majority; that it comes across too paltry, too pinched. A bit too ‘Eleanor Oliphant’. And then I go back round again, worrying that people will feel sorry for me/think there’s something wrong with me/that I should just learn to be more sociable etc. etc. etc…

I so fucking wish I was able to look people in the eye, and say - unashamedly, unabashedly, confidently - that I spent the whole of the weekend at home, alone; that I’m not that social; that I live a pretty reclusive life; that I’m not looking for Mr. Right.

I’m a queer, naturally solitary, aromantic woman who intends on staying single forever. I love that I know that about myself; that I know my truth. And when I’m alone, living that truth, I’m perfectly content, happy, healthy.

It’s when I come into contact with Extrovert Supremacy (aka The Outside World aka the world I must venture into in order to earn a living), with all its denigrations, assumptions, and stereotypes about quiet/shy/introverted folk, that I stumble.

That’s when the shame and fear – the self-hate - sets in.

I want it to end. I want to shake off the shyness, the self-consciousness, the hating-myself-ness, so I can just be myself in the world – my weird queer solitary self; no longer afraid, no longer ashamed.

That’s what I want.

But how do I do that?

What will it take?

Like this post? Then you can find similar content at: www.sociallydistant.xyz

#solitary #solitude #loner #aromantic #single #living alone #flying solo #extrovert supremacy #introvert #shy #quiet #extrovert ideal #naturally solitary #asocial #single forever

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cutesuki--bakugou · 4 years

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What I Needed

@bnha-christmas2019 | Day 27: Company Party, “I thought you said you weren’t going to come>” | Bakugou x Fem!Reader | Explicit | Cursing, Sex, Oral Sex, Alcohol Consumption, Soft Baku, Comfort, Confessions

Words: 7228 Genre: Romance / Angst / Humor

Please blacklist the tag cutesuki-lemons if you do not want to see this content from my blog. I will no longer be tagging with specific keywords for this type of content.Thank you~

Due to the nature of this post, the characters are 18+

Having his own hero agency was everything Bakugou had ever wanted. He had power, fame, popularity, influence and the high social status that came with being one of the top heroes in the county, just like he had always dreamed. In his late twenties, his life was exactly how he had wanted it, but there were some… responsibilities that he, in all honesty, despised. Fame came with the need to socialize, to have a decent relationship with not only his fans, but the people he worked with. Sure, this wasn’t the first time he had to throw a company party, nor was it the biggest he had ever done, but that didn’t make it any less irritating.

A party to celebrate the holiday and new year weren’t anything to bat an eye at, especially not when it was open to any hero from any agency that wanted to participate. For less successful heroes or those still growing their reputation, who wouldn’t jump on the chance to party with the greatest heroes in the country? It wasn’t just Bakugou mingling around in the giant ballroom in the basement floor of his agency. Midoriya Izuku was here somewhere, as was Todoroki Shoto and others whom had grown the ranks with Bakugou from high school. There were even some older heroes present, old mentors and teaches. Friends and rivals alike were invited.

And that included you.

What were you to Bakugou, really? Were you a friend? A rival? Competition? His crush? All the above, if he were honest with himself, but calling you his ‘crush’ made him feel like a child. His feelings for you being just a ‘crush’ were a huge understatement. No, he had more than just a crush. In truth, he was head over heels for you, even surprising himself with how deeply he felt.

It had been like this since high school. He hated you at first, as he did everyone, but there was something about you that called to him. Did he ever act on it? Of course not. All his focus was on school, on training, internships and pushing himself to the highest degree he could manage. He had no time for girls, even if you were nearly irresistible. It didn’t help that it had been obvious you were into him, too. Still, all your advances were ignored, until a barrier had grown between you and nothing was achieved outside of a mildly awkward friendship.

It changed after you both graduated. For nearly two years, neither of you paid any attention to each other, until you ended up interning in the same agency. As adults, the spark was unmistakable. But Bakugou still couldn’t find it within himself to commit to a relationship, not when he was still working so hard for his goals.

That didn’t mean that he couldn’t resist you, however. Whatever relationship the two of you had was a physical one and nothing more. Fucking your brains out in the men’s locker room of the agency became almost a weekly occurrence, with many nights spent at each other’s apartments. Though, you could both admit, silently to yourselves, that there was something else there. The late nights watching stupid movies, stuffing yourselves with pizza and other shitty food, laughing and telling stories was proof enough. It was something Bakugou never wanted to lose.

Until you both became independent heroes. Bakugou left you in the dust at first, refusing to show you even an ounce of mercy when it came to bringing in villains or numbers of rescues. Being in the same region didn’t exactly help that, as his goals to be at the top wouldn’t be derailed, not even by a woman he adored. At one point, he was positive that you hated him. Your tenacity and perseverance pushed through in the end, and you climbed the ranks just as he had. The entire world saw you as rivals, and so Bakugou figured that is what you should both stay. Rivals with a past and nothing else.

Years pass with only business talk between you both, but lately, Bakugou could have sworn that spark was beginning to return. The way you looked at him and the sweet flow of your voice reminded him so much of your time together that he couldn’t resist falling for you all over again. All this time, no other woman he had slept with could compare to you, and it only grew worse the more you began to interact.

Bakugou knew that he may have everything he ever wanted in a career. But in his personal life, there was something missing. A partner, someone to spend his life with and have a family. Out of all the women he had met in his life, who had tried to woo him and gain his affection, not a single one had come as close to the level of adoration he felt for you. Even still, there was the itch in the back of his mind that he had already burned that bridge long ago. How could you possibly still care or want him after all this time and all the grief he put you through?

It was a shock to see you suddenly in the crowd of people, casually making your way to the bar with an already empty glass of champagne. That was enough to tell him that you had been here a while, so either you hadn’t seen him yet or you were just straight up avoiding him. If you were, then that bothered him quite a bit. He wanted to talk to you, to try and fix that he had broken between you. But if you didn’t want to see him, then was it really worth the effort?

“Mr. Bakugou? Did you hear my question?”

“Eh?” His attention on you broken, Bakugou’s gaze was pulled down to the woman in front of him, who was peering up at him curiously. She had been blabbering off to him for the past half hour, doing everything she possibly could to keep his focus and conversation. What she was really trying to do was obvious, with her low-cut dress and flirtatious body language. From what he had gathered, she was brand new to the hero scene, and she wanted to climb up the ladder based off networking and… sleeping with the big boys. He had considered going along with it, even though he barely remembered anything she had told him, but now he just didn’t give a shit. He just wanted to get away before he lost you in the crowd again.

“I asked if you were planning on taking in any new interns. If so, I… wanted to get my name out there. Maybe we can talk about it in private?”

“Uh, no. I’m not. Excuse me.” The way he pardoned himself was more like a demand to move, not bothering to pay attention to her whining as he squeezed himself out of the group he had been standing in. Thankfully, when he was finally free, he saw you still waiting at the bar, eyes on the bartender as they mixed up a drink. Sitting on a stool, you looked exceptionally elegant in your glittering dress, which hugged your figure. It came to a stop right above your knees, though the fabric was hiked up to your mid-thigh from your legs being crossed. The black hose you wore only hinted at the soft skin beneath, and how badly he wanted to touch you was almost suffocating.

“Thank you!” You spoke with a smile as the bartender handed your drink to you, still not having even noticed Bakugou. “Getting a lot of business, are you?”

“Ah, yeah!” The young man spoke with a pleasant grin, beginning to dry out some glasses with a rag. “These parties are always a riot! And they pay well.”

After taking a healthy sip from your drink, you leaned back a bit to sit up straighter. “I bet you’re getting amazing tips. You have to be at least a little tipsy at these parties. Especially if you’re dealing face to face with the host!”

It was then that Bakugou decided to step in, clearing his throat as he came to sit beside you. “Excuse me?”

“Oooh, well, speak of the devil.” A sly smile crossed your lips as if you had known he was there the entire time. Of course you had known, why else would you say such a teasing and rude thing to the little bartender? After two hours at this ridiculously rowdy party, you had finally found and gotten Bakugou’s attention.

Finally.

“I thought you said you weren’t going to come.” With a snap of his fingers towards the bartender, he got his attention. “Whisky.”

Ignoring his command for alcohol, you stirred your own drink with the straw. “I wasn’t at first. But everyone was talking about how big this party was going to be and how it would look good for me to show up… I decided the networking and positive publicity was worth having to suffer through your presence.”

Even though he felt a twinge of annoyance at your snarky attitude, Bakugou gave an amused scoffed, taking a hefty swig from his drink once it was placed in front of him. “You can bullshit other people, [Name], but not me. Don’t fuck around.”

“You’ve done enough fucking around for both of us, Kacchan.” Your words were tinted with ice, even though there was still a flirty heat behind them. “How does it feel? To have so much fame that all these people come just to get a chance to introduce themselves to you. Or to have women on their knees in seconds. That poor little blonde you left over there; she must be very dejected.”

“You know damn well networking irritates the shit out of me. And you’re no better. If I wasn’t sitting next to you, there would be men lining up just to be rejected by you. Why the fuck do you have to bring that shit up, anyway? Can’t we just have a normal conversation without you throwing that in my face?”

“It’s all I was to you,” Your gaze left your drink to look up at him, the man that you adored more than anything. Yet, here you were, pushing him away again with your bitterness. You had already forgiven him, for pushing you aside and abandoning what life you could have had together for his career. He seemed to be making an effort… why couldn’t you? “What else would you want to talk about? Work? Ratings? Money? That’s all you care about, so if you want to boast, then go for it. I’ll pretend to listen like you do to those girls.”

“In the past year that we’ve had more than a five-minute conversation, I’m pretty fucking sure I hadn’t said a word about myself. That’s you. You bring it up.”

With his accusation, Bakugou could see your cheeks begin to flush, your frustrations with yourself showing themselves even so slightly. He knew that forced blank expression, that stiff posture as you tried to stay strong to not let your tough front crumble. More than anything, he wished that wall you had built around yourself would crack, even just slightly, to allow him in.

“You’re the one that told me all those years ago that you only care about building your career and you wouldn’t let anything get in the way of that. So why are you even trying to talk to me right now, Kacchan? You have everything you ever wanted.”

“That’s not true. Come with me.” Bakugou stood, picking up his glass as he did. “I can’t talk to you over this fucking shit music.”

For a moment, you hesitated. You knew that if you were alone with him, you would break. All this time, you had refused to give him any more than a few minutes of your time, but it wasn’t because you hated him. You were scared that your feelings for him would explode the instant you were alone, that the craving to feel that happiness from all those years back would cause you to make a mistake.

Would it be a mistake? Or would you finally feel complete again?

With a sigh, you stood, fixing your dress back into place before snatching up your own drink and following him towards one of the many exits. Much to your annoyance, many people tried to stop you both to chit chat, or to keep Bakugou's attention as long as they could. Over and over, he either ignored or dismissed them, even people you recognized to be CEOs of huge corporations. Each time, your heart fluttered, softening your resolve until you were blushing fiercely.

Out in the hallway, Bakugou gave a heavy sigh, relieved for the music to be muffled after the door shut behind you. “Finally… I hate that shit.” Taking a few steps forward, he pushed a button on the elevator, prompting you to glance up as the number began to descend.

“Where are you taking me?”

“To my office. No one but me has a key to get in. We can be alone…”

“Don’t you think it will seem suspicious for us to go up there? People will talk.”

“People talk anyway. People were talking the instant I sat down next to you.” Bakugou’s crimson glare set off that familiar fire within you, making you clutch onto your dress with your free hand. “You think people don’t know how we used to be? We weren’t exactly subtle…”

“That was a long time ago…”

“Five years isn’t a long time. Not to forget things like that between such high-profile people.”

With a ding, the elevator opened in front of you, and with a vague gesture from Bakugou, you walked inside first. He stood beside you, and the instant the elevator door closed, the tension was almost palpable. But it wasn’t an uncomfortable tension, which you slowly came to realize as the elevator rose up to the top floor. It was a mutual wanting, some type of magnetic force that you were both fighting against with all your strength. He was so close to you, within your grasp and yet so far away.

Could you really let him back in?

Bakugou once again allowed you to exit first before following, sipping from his glass as he headed straight for his office entrance. This wasn’t the first time you had been up to this floor of his agency, but it was the first time you were going to visit his private office. Corporate meetings were held up here, just down the hall, and you had always wondered what was behind those double doors to the left.

Pulling out his ID from his pocket, he held it up in front of a sensor, which went off with a beep and the click of the doors unlocking followed. Pulling the door open, Bakugou nodded for you to go in, silent and cautious. At first, you only watched him for any signs of regret or reconsideration, but you saw none. Even your own second thoughts were hidden in the back of your mind, so you entered, a bit surprised at the perfect and professional order of his office. It wasn’t quite what you expected, but then again, there were a lot of things about Bakugou that were unexpected.

Most people would see him and instantly think ‘that man is a brute’ or ‘he’s absolutely vile’. Was he? Yes, absolutely. But there were things that only you had seen, that he would not dare share with another living soul. He had told you about his insecurities, his worries and his regrets. You had held him when he awoke in a panic, brought on by nightmares he couldn’t control. He had laughed with you about teenage memories, smiling with such sincerity that you were sure he must have been another person entirely. Even more special, the way he would caress you and kiss you with such a sweet tenderness you would just melt in his hands. He was gentle and loving behind all that explosive anger.

Loving… Were we in love? I… never really thought it would have been possible… For him to love another person. Feeling your emotions swell a bit at the thought, you struggled to restrain the burning in your eyes, refusing to cry in front of him already. How could you possibly become that weak willed just because you were alone together? Had you really put on such a strong facade for the public that you didn’t even feel like yourself anymore?

“People always assume I have everything just from what they can see.” Bakugou spoke after the door shut, gaining your attention and momentary distraction from your emotions. “This office. That’s all you see. Awards. Certificates. Success. Or at least, all what people assume success to be. And I’ve reached it faster than most… Because I worked so hard for it.” After finishing off his drink, he sat the empty glass down on the edge of his desk.

At the moment, your sharp tongue was dulled, finding that you wanted to hear what he had to say. He was speaking so calmly, as if this was something that he had been waiting for, like his speech had been rehearsed in his mind over and over. That, or he was tired of hiding his emotions.

Little did you know that both were true. Bakugou had thought about what he would say to you in a situation like this, how he would get his point across that he had made a mistake pushing you so far away. How he was going to tell you that he wanted you in his life desperately? With these desires, he knew that he couldn’t hide a single ounce of himself from you. If he did, he would lose you, and he refused to let that happen. So, no matter how embarrassing it was, how frustrated he was at trying to find the right words, he would fumble until he caught his footing.

“I wanted this.” Bakugou gestured to their surroundings. “I wanted it more than anything. I wanted it so badly that I lost sight of something that I needed. That time with you made me happier than any of this shit that I have now. And I was stupid to not realize that back then.” He came up to stand in front of you, and by now, the burning in your eyes was uncontrollable. The instant is hands came up to caress your upper arms, you lost the slim control you had, the hot tears rolling down your cheeks.

“I think about it all the time. How we could have spent all these years growing together. I was selfish back then… You were right to hate me for the things I did to you. For treating you like… just an obstacle in my path. Then, and now, I don’t deserve you. But I want you. And before you snap at me, it’s not just your body. I want your laugh, your smile, your support and happiness. And I want to give you mine.”

Sniffling, you felt strangled as you tried to process his words. You could tell by the softness of his tone and his touch that he was being genuine. Bakugou, out of all people in the world, couldn’t lie without becoming a flustered mess. The truth was often even harder for him to admit, so the fact that it was coming out of his mouth so smoothly made your heart and stomach flutter. It was your turn, to tell him that you wanted all the same, but the words were lost to you. How could he admit his feelings so easily, while you were completely useless? Had you really built your wall that strong, that not even the person you loved with all your heart could get through?

“Katsuki…” You finally got through with a hiccup, only able to manage a quick glance up at him. “Did you ever love me?”

“Are you shitting me? Do you think I’d tell you all this if I didn’t? And what happened to ‘Kacchan’? Hm?” The snarky smirk that crossed his lips brought a more intense fire to your cheeks, giving a playful click of your tongue as he wiped your tears away with rough thumbs.

“I only call you Kacchan when I’m pretending to be mad at you.” After setting your drink down on the nearby desk, you placed your hands on his chest, tenderly adjusting the collar of his nice dress shirt. “After all this time you still refuse to wear ties. Even to your own company parties.”

“I hate them. I need to breathe.”

“I think you just like looking like the bad boy.” You couldn’t resist stepping in closer as his hands fell to grip your hips, the heat of his body so irresistible. “You and your tough guy facade.”

“Whatever. We both know you fucking love it.”

“I do, Katsuki.” You caressed his cheeks softly, entire body tingling with the feeling of his hands sliding up your sides. “I never hated you. Never. Maybe that makes me stupid, too… But I always knew it…”

“Knew what?” His lips were dangerously close to yours now, brushing softly as he spoke. Even his gaze was nearly crippling, already feeling your legs growing weak. He was so dangerous, so absolutely irresistible to you that there wasn’t anything you could do to control your wanting for him. Not anymore.

“That you would come back to me.”

With that, any restraint the two of you may have had was broken, lips immediately crashing into each other with a fierce and familiar passion. How long it had been didn’t matter in that moment. Bakugou knew exactly how to kiss you, how to hold your body against his and make your legs weak. The hot taste of whisky on his tongue made your entire body feel warm, starting from your core and spreading through each nerve. It was like every inch of you was on fire, the heat pooling between your legs as you couldn’t resist your arousal. Everything about him was exactly like you remembered, only… there was more.

It was obvious to you that he had grown in experience and practice, even just from this short time together. Although you couldn’t help but feel a twinge of jealousy towards the other women whom he had relations with, you knew that from this moment on, if you accepted him, it would be only you. There would never be another woman or man between you, nor any career or goals. It would be you and him together, to be everything you ever wanted. And needed.

“A-ah, Katsu--” You couldn’t resist a soft moan as his hands eagerly gripped onto your ass, even though it was immediately smothered by the kiss. His palms were so hot that you could already feel them through the fabric of your dress, only further reminding you of the things you loved about him. You didn’t know if it was because of his quirk or if it was just how his body was, but any time he got all hot and bothered, his palms would become unbelievably warm. It was never to the point that you couldn’t bare it, but it was just enough to melt you and make you crave to feel it against your bare skin. Tugging him backwards with a simple step and yank to the front of his shirt, you stumbled back until your legs hit his desk, the rattling of the ice in your drink barely registering in your feverish mind.

The loud crashing and clanking of other miscellaneous belongings falling to the floor was just as ignored by the both of you, pushed aside with a single sweep of Bakugou’s arm. In nearly the same instant, you were turned, upper body forced down onto the desk from a strong pressure between your shoulder blades. One hand firmly on your back to keep you in place, Bakugou let the other travel down your side and to your hips.

“Five years have done you a lot of favors, [Name]. Your body is fucking irresistible.”

Unable to really move, you could only support yourself on trembling legs, entire being racked with excitement and anticipation at what he would do to you next. You could feel his cock pressing into your ass from beneath his pants, and you knew damn well he was doing that on purpose. It was just another way to tease you at what you had been missing all this time and what you desperately wanted. “Are you saying it hasn’t always been?”

“Don’t be a smart ass with me. I’ve craved every inch of you…” With that, you felt the cool air of the office on your backside as your dress was pushed up to your lower back. Both strong hands moved to grope you and spread you open, an amused chuckle following. “Fuck, I can see how wet you are already. And no underwear? Were you expecting something?”

The feeling of his thumb stroking against your sex made you shudder, nibbling at your bottom lip. Even through your hose, the pleasure of his touch was irresistible, softly gasping with each stroke to your clit. “Any time I see you, I always hope that you’ll want me again. It was an impulse… not to wear underwear. I thought that… maybe ton-- a-ah!” You were cut off by a moan, surprised by the sudden hot and wet pressure against your clit. Unable to see him well, you didn’t notice that he had knelt down until he made his presence known, running his tongue along your sex with the hose still in place.

The sensation was odd at first to the both of you, but you couldn’t deny how good it felt. Even if he wasn’t on your clit directly, the cloth still grew taught against it with his movements, teasing you with just a hint of pressure. You wanted more so badly, but you knew begging wasn’t going to get you anywhere just yet. He was going to do whatever he wanted with you, and there wasn’t any point in trying to stop him, not with how badly you wanted this.

Suddenly, there was a new sensation and sound. With a firm tug and the ripping of cloth, you felt your hose loosen from your body, splitting right down the middle seam to fully expose you. Bakugou had done it with his teeth, you knew his antics well, but that didn’t mean you were any less annoyed that he just ripped your favorite hose. “Hey, Katsuki! These are my-- ooh, fuck!” You dug your nails into the wood of his desk as he began to eat your out mercilessly, gripping onto your hips to keep you still.

Turning your face more into the desk, you moaned and panted against the wood, the pleasure tingling through your body like hot sparks. Within minutes, you were brought to a leg shaking orgasm, your knees buckling. The only reason you stayed up on the desk was your upper body and Bakugou’s hands on your hips.

“Fucking hell… I’ve missed seeing you cum like that. You always cum so hard for me.” Slipping his fingers beneath the hole he had made in your hose, he ripped them just a bit more, giving him full and easier access to your wet and twitching pussy. He could have just stared at the heavenly sight for hours, watching your juices drip down your thighs and onto the floor. Never had a woman get so wet for him the way that you did, always so hot and ready to be fucked from something as simple as a kiss. While he used one hand to stroke your folds and tease your swollen clit, his other moved down to his pants, loosening his belt. “Such a good little bitch. Tell me who you belong to.”

“Y-you, Katsuki.” Body still recovering, you couldn’t resist the slight jerking of your body with his teasing of your clit.

Once his pants were unbuttoned and unzipped, Bakugou began to stroke himself to the sight of you, spreading your pussy open with his fingers. “Have you ever had someone fuck you as good as I do?”

“No, only you can make me feel so good. No other man can ever c-come close.”

“No other man will ever come close.” Standing, Bakugou pressed his tip against your waiting hole, teasingly pressing into you until you were squirming beneath him. “Now tell me what you want.”

“I-I want your cock!”

“Beg.”

“P-please, Katsuki! Please, fill me up and fuck me!”

Leaning forward, Bakugou allowed himself to slip in just slightly. He pressed his lips against your flushed cheek, smirking against your skin. He loved seeing you like this, already completely smitten and hopelessly aroused. You’d do or say anything he wanted, and he knew that being treated like this was what turned you on more than anything else. “Harder.”

His low voice in your ear made your head swim, becoming increasingly frustrated with the teasing. “I’m begging you! Please hurry up and fuck me, Katsu! My pussy is yours, please do whatever you want to me, until I’m ruined with your cum dripping down my legs! Katsu, please!” That sweet nickname flowing from your lips again after five years instantly flushed Bakugou’s chest full of a raging and familiar fire, both of his hands moving to grip tightly onto your hips.

“That’s it, babygirl.” Slowly, his cock began to fill you up, forcing a gasp from your lips as you arched your hips up into him. The soft grunt he let slip near your ear instantly almost had you cumming again, looking up at him from the corner of your eye. Vision blurry with pleasured tears, you could barely make out the furrow of his brow, though the passion in his glare was perfectly clear. You were about to be absolutely ravaged, and you couldn’t wait a second longer. But you did, soaking in the feeling of each inch vanishing within you, filling you to the brim. “You want it so bad, then take it.”

You were already trembling by the time he hissed the demand into your ear, knowing that if you weren’t lying down on the desk, your legs would have given out by now and you’d be sprawled useless on the floor. Already you could feel how full you were, his cock pulsing against your constricting walls and just itching to move. Unable to resist the urge himself, Bakugou sat up from you, hands gripping your hips tightly as he began to slowly and roughly thrust his hips. The first few thrusts of his cock inside you felt foreign, like you had almost forgotten what it was like to be fucked by him. But, very quickly, he found his rhythm, bringing back all those things you were familiar with.

The hot slapping of skin. Burning palms. Fingers with a grip so tight you knew they would bruise. Sticky liquid coating your body, from sweat to your own juices as it rolled down your legs with each aggressive thrust. Bakugou’s grunts of pleasure, mixed in with your own uncontrollable moans. A deep presence within your womb, enough to make your stomach feel full every time he sunk his cock into you. The teasing words and name calling, forcing his dominance upon you in a way that made you completely swoon.

In no time at all, you were cumming again, arching your hips up into his as you screamed and begged for the release you had so desperately missed. And then, in typical Bakugou fashion, he removed his cock from you, right on the edge of your orgasm. It faded away in a rush of tingles, and with some ounce of strength, you pushed yourself up onto your elbows to glare at him over your shoulder.

“Seriously, Katsuki? You’re still into that edging shit?!”

“Into it?” Bakugou smirked, grabbing you by both arms and forcing you back up onto your feet. His cock settled between your legs, pressing into your sex as he held your body back against his. With soft, slow thrusts, you watched as his tip vanished and reappeared again, stroking against your clit. Releasing one of your arms, the other came up to grip your neck, resting his lips at your ear. “I’ve mastered it, babygirl. And don’t try to pretend that you don’t love it.”

Putting some pressure on your neck, Bakugou kissed and nibbled at the exposed skin of your shoulder. “I’ve missed seeing your expressions when you cum so hard after being edged over and over. The way your eyes roll back in your head… That crazed and satisfied smile on your lips. Your body trembling and jerking. Fuck, you’re just so damn sexy.” He used his free hand to pull the already low-cut neckline of your dress down, allowing your breasts to fall free. He increased the speed of his thrusting, giving a sigh of pleasure in your ear as he groped and massaged your breasts.

Although the thigh fucking was a much slower pace than what he had been taking just a moment before, you couldn’t resist how good it felt just to be played with. There was no effort on your part, except for somehow finding the strength to stay standing. His lips on your skin. His teeth in your flesh. His hands on your breasts. His cock between your legs. All of it was sending you into a whole new round of bliss and almost the feeling of being… worshiped. Yes, it was for his enjoyment too, but each movement he made and shifting of his hips was to bring you pleasure.

“K-Katsu,” you moaned out sweetly, reaching up to run your fingers through his hair. “I can’t believe you still remember how to play with me. What my body wants and begs for.”

“I could never forget your body, [Name].” He paused for just a moment to allow his cock to slip back into your waiting pussy, watching your face as it contorted with pleasure. “Everything about it drives me fucking crazy. Not just your body, but you. All of you. I can’t stand the thought of being without you a second longer.” With a slight push from his thumb, you turned your head to meet his lips in a passionate kiss, which spurred his thrusts to go faster. He held your body back against him, one arm around your waist with the other across your chest, caressing your neck and playing with your breasts as he wished.

You felt so close to him, so wanted and adored for the first time in so many years. In that moment, you decided it wasn’t enough. You wanted him closer.

“Stop, wait--” With a slight push of your hand to his stomach, he stopped as instructed, even though confusion flashed across his face. Turning, you hopped up to sit on his desk, immediately pulling him closer and wrapping your legs around his waist. “I want to hold you, Katsu.”

Another passionate kiss was shared as he picked back up on where he had left off fucking you, but his movements became rougher and more excited. Having you in this more intimate position must have spurred on his excitement, and that wasn’t anything for you to complain about. But, for you, there was a twinge of sudden reconsideration that you hadn’t expected. It came with a sudden rush of pure emotion, a raging storm that you had tried to keep at bay.

Disbelief. Excitement. Remorse. Anger. Wanting. Fear. Passion. Love.

Love.

That’s what it was.

As you began to feel another orgasm building rapidly within you, you released your grip of your arms around his neck to instead caress his cheeks. “Katsu,” With the soft mention of his name, his gaze caught yours, though he never lost his rhythm or pace in the way he was fucking you. You knew you had to get it out before you lost control of yourself again, barely able to speak against the pleasure that was only growing. “Katsuki. I love you. I-I’ve loved you since the beginning. I w-want to do this together. To be together.”

Bakugou let his hand fall to your lower back, shifting your body closer to him to allow him in deeper. Leaning back a bit with his movement, you kept yourself propped up with one arm while the other was around his neck, clutching on tightly to the back of his shirt. At first, your eyes were drawn down to watch how he fucked you, until his words brought your eyes back up. Behind the haze of lust and pleasure, you could see it, the genuine adoration and love for you that he had been hiding all this time in fear. There was no more fear between you. Only hope and the prospect of true happiness.

“I love you, [Name]. And from now on, I won’t ever let your stupid ass forget it.” With one more kiss shared between you, he immediately increased his efforts, fucking you so hard and rough that the already abused desk began to creak. The sound of your drink falling and glass breaking across the pristine tile floor was ignored; all focus the two of you could muster only on each other.

You could feel it, building up within your core, and you couldn’t stop it from showing on your face. “F-Fuck, Katsu, I’m going to cum! Please! Please let me!”

“It’s okay, babygirl. Cum for me.” With his words whispered in ragged breath against your lips, you couldn’t hold back another moment. As the ball that had grown within you exploded, you collapsed back against the desk, your voice squeaking with the powerful onslaught of pleasure. With full access to your hips, now, Bakugou held onto them tightly, fucking you through your orgasm. To him, it was a beautiful sight, your sweaty and ravaged body completely broken and at his mercy. Bakugou never wanted to stop, but before he realized it, his need to cum was suffocating.

“[Name]...-”

Gaining a moment of lucidity from hearing your name, you peered up at him, smiling as you rested your arms up above your head. “Come inside me, Katsu--” With your permission, Bakugou immediately grew more aggressive and erratic, your moans edging him on. “Please cum inside me! Fill me up with your hot cum, Katsuki!”

Within moments, Bakugou did just that, tugging your hips against his tightly as he released inside you. It was so hot you could feel it, filling your womb and coating your still contracting walls. With his release, Bakugou let out a satisfied grunt, before sighing in absolute pleasure. From your view, he looked so worn out, sweaty with clothing and hair completely disheveled. You were sure that you looked exactly the same, but in Bakugou’s eyes, you were nothing but absolute perfection.

With his cock still pulsing inside you, he leaned himself forward, propping himself up on his elbows on either side of your body. Softly, he moved some hair out of your face before his lips met yours. It was different now, a tender kiss that made your stomach flutter like you were a little girl in love for the first time. You wrapped your arms around him, running your fingers through his hair and softly stroking his back as he showered your lips, cheeks and neck with sweet affections.

“This is what I’ve missed…” He spoke near your ear, low and calm. “This… gentle intimacy. You’re the only person I can experience it with- who I’d want to experience it with.”

“My Katsuki… Me, too.” Now, the tears began to return to your eyes, so overcome with bubbly happiness and pure love. “I never want to lose you again.”

“You won’t, [Name]. Never again.”

With another sweet kiss, you were both suddenly startled by a loud buzzing in Bakugou’s back pocket, which reverberated through your still connected bodies. With an annoyed huff, Bakugou removed himself from you and allowed you to sit up and adjust your dress back over your breasts as he grabbed his phone to check the message. “Ah fuck.”

“What is it?”

“My assistant… I’m almost thirty minutes late for my speech before the gift raffle. Well shit.”

Giggling softly, you looked down at the mess you had both made. Broken glasses, scattered office supplies, papers and even his name plaque littered the floor. “Well, at least we still kept all our clothes on.”

With a click of his tongue, Bakugou headed over towards a door, walking inside. “I still have to fucking change, I’m sweaty as fuck.” His voice echoed, so you grew curious, following him in to see that it was a whole bathroom with a shower, tub and everything else that came standard. You followed him around a corner to see that he also had a full walk in closet, making you gasp in shock.

“Damn, Katsu! Think you have enough space? Do you live here?!”

“Of fucking course I don’t.” Bakugou glowered at you, stripping off his shirt before stepping out of his pants. “I just have extra clothes.”

“Won’t people be suspicious if you come down in new cloths- oh. You have the same exact ones.”

“Always have to be prepared, [Name]. I just… don’t have an extra dress for you. Or hose. Sorry.” He smirked at you as you looked down at your legs, the hose you wore soaked with liquid and torn all the way down to your thighs. Huffing, you pushed them down before plopping yourself onto the toilet, relieving yourself as you took off your shoes.

“My dress is fine, it’s my hose that I’m upset about! These were my favorite ones!”

“I’ll buy you more. Are you taking a piss?!”

“You’re lucky I didn’t piss all over your desk, I’ve had to pee for like an hour.”

“And I still wouldn’t want you to leave.”

Smiling, you rolled the ruined hose into a ball and put them in the trash, cleaning yourself up with toilet paper. Once done, you put your shoes back on, flushed and went to wash your hands. While you were doing so, Bakugou emerged back from the closet, back dressed just as spiffy as he had been before. Coming to stand behind you, he wrapped his arms around your waist, giving your cheek a soft kiss. “I’m happy you’ve forgiven me, [Name]. That you want me back…”

“Of course I do, Katsuki. These few years just made me realize that… I can’t be happy without you.”

“Me, too.” After another kiss, he went to the other sink, grabbing a toothbrush and squeezing some toothpaste onto it.

Confused, you wiped your hand on a towel, before attempting to fix the mess your hair had become. “What are you doing?”

“Brushing my teeth. I can’t exactly go back to a party with my breath smelling like whisky and pussy, now can I?”

“Nah, you should. It’ll keep all those girls away.”

“You being on my arm will keep them away enough.”

“Touché. Going public already… Bring it on.”

“You got it, babygirl.”

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