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storiesbyrhi · 2 years

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Angel of the First Degree - Chapter 10: Royalty

Eddie Munson x Chubby!Reader 8055 words Series Masterlist

Warnings: Anxiety; fatphobia including internalised; drug use; bullying; body issues; discussion of body function and fluids; period shame/stigma; disclosure of sexual assault (chapter 2); disordered eating and thoughts of food; shitty/abusive/critical parents; porn magazines; smut; reference to suicide (specifically Virginia Woolf’s); no beta; grief/mourning; warnings updated each chapter

Synopsis: When Eddie Munson finds you in the midst of a panic attack, it is the beginning of something. A fic featuring body and sex positivity, Eddie in a dress, soft small moments, scary big truths, and all the usual special feelings you’d expect from one of my stories.

Chapter Summary: The dream keeps on getting better, but really… how long can this last?

Author’s Note: Sorry that this chapter came a bit late but I promise it's a good one. The next chapter may be delayed too; I have a bit going on IRL. I'm typing out my soft romance as fast as I can though =^.^= I think I missed a lot of typos in editing too, so forgive pls.

With Halloween gone, Hawkins High turned its attention to the next event on the social calendar – the end of year dance. The biggest night of a Senior’s year. The last blowout before exams and graduation. The kind of ceremony that people planned all through high school, hoping for dreams to come true. However, not really the usual talking point of the Hellfire table. For this reason, you were surprised when the conversation turned to the dance.

“We’re going,” Jeff said, speaking for him and Esther. “Might be dumb, but we don’t want to look back and regret not going,”

“Yeah, ‘cause you’re really living the all-American high school dream otherwise?” Dustin joked.

“Excuse you, Dustybun, but to deprive the world of me in a flowing powder blue dress and a matching corsage would be criminal,” Esther said, pointing her fork at Dustin menacingly.

“What about you guys? You gonna go since it’s like, your actual final Senior year?” Gareth asked.

Your head had been down the entire conversation, buried in your Classics notes. Although the question had been posed to you both, Eddie didn’t look to you for an answer and you didn’t look up from your notebook.

“You fucking serious? There’s a reason why I’ve never gone to something as mind-numbing as the dance,” Eddie started, voice full of disdain. Everyone at the table felt a Munson rant coming on. “Have you heard the music they play at those things? And the fucking… costumes those conformists wear. No offense, Esther, but everyone looks the same. It’s always blue and pink. King and fucking queen. I would rather have a prostate exam from a bear,”

“Jesus Christ, Eddie,” Jeff said, looking at his girlfriend to see if she was hurt.

Esther was kind of immune to shit like that. She scoffed. “Edward, you honestly couldn’t offend me if you tried. And for real, it kind of just sounds like the excuse of someone that has never been asked to the dance.”

The boys all oooooohhhhh’ed. Eddie grinned at Esther, she smiled back. “I like her. Glad you kept her,” he said to Jeff.

“For fuck’s sake. Nobody keeps me,” Esther proclaimed. “Come on. Let’s go shopping for a costume for you to wear to the conformist parade,” she said to Jeff. Everyone watched them leave.

“I don’t know, man. I just thought you’d wanna go now,” Dustin said, chewing on what he hoped was meatloaf. “Because-”

“I have to go to the library,” you said loudly and suddenly, leaving before anyone, including Eddie, could reply.

It had hurt. A lot. You were heartbroken, bypassing the library and speed walking out the building, across the field, and into the forest you’d hid in at the start of the year.

Back at the Hellfire table, Eddie was unnerved by the sudden silence. “What?” he demanded of his peers. They looked around anxiously, trying to figure out who would tell him. Gareth cleared his throat. “Uh… Dude, I think what… Henderson is sayin’ that, you know, you have a girlfriend… Girls like dances?”

Eddie froze, a million and one thoughts all smashing into each other, nothing coherent. “Yeah, but she’s not… like that,”

“Like what? Just because she’s not a cheerleader anymore, and not all… Plastic or whatever, doesn’t mean that she’s as anti-the man as you,”

“Are you telling me how to be a boyfriend now?” Eddie said, too much venom in his voice, entirely on the defense. He’d messed up. As Gareth rolled his eyes and looked over at Dustin, Eddie narrowed his at the Thinking Cap kid. “Something to add?”

“You dressed as a cat for her, but you won’t take her to the most important part of the Senior year experience?”

“You’re a Freshman, what do you know about the Senior year experience?”

“I know that girls in my classes are already talking about their dance,” Dustin offered in kindness, not trying to make Eddie feel guilty. None of them were, they just loved you and thought it would be your thing.

“Whatever, you don’t know her like I do,”

“Yeah, yeah, you’re right, Eddie. We don’t. Sorry.”

Lunch continued, finding its normal rhythm quickly, but Eddie stayed quiet, sorting through his thoughts and trying to work out how he could possibly unfuck what he had royally fucked up.

After school that day, Eddie felt like a weight had been lifted off him when you were waiting at the van like usual.

“Angel,” he greeted, hugging you tightly. “I’m so fucking sorry. I don’t- I should’ve- I-”

“What are you talking about?” you asked straight-faced. You’d practiced the expression all afternoon.

Eddie could see through it, obviously. He could also see that you’d cried off the makeup you had put on that morning. Fresh mascara coated your lashes but the eyeshadow was gone.

“If you want to go to the dance, I do too. You know that I want whatever you want, and-”

“Eddie,” you interrupted again. “I don’t want to go. It’s just before exams. I don’t wanna get all fucked up, then not be able to focus. Or like, drink all my revision out my head, you know? And also, it’s totally going to be the Hayley show. And Chrissy and Jason will be King and Queen. Super predictable. Honestly. I don’t want to go.”

Eddie frowned and tried to figure out what you were thinking. Everything you said was technically true, but he couldn’t find it within himself to believe you entirely. He didn’t have any way to make it up to you though, so he dropped it. Eddie nodded and kissed you gently.

“Do you promise? You’re not just saying that?” he asked. You nodded into him, giving him no verbal confirmation, which he knew meant you weren’t promising at all.

When your general mood that week didn’t change, didn’t dip into sadness and exhaustion, Eddie thought maybe he had overthought it all. Maybe the guys were wrong. Maybe you really didn’t want to go.

He went round in circles trying to figure it out. Eddie’s best theory was that you thought you wanted to go, because you had wanted to once upon a time, but since Eddie and your new life, something had changed. But you didn’t figure it out until Eddie said what he did. In a way, he woke you up to your own truth.

Bullshit, he called on himself.

Another week went by with nobody mentioning the dance. Eddie was still waiting for the other shoe to drop. That, it did. It was a school night, the coldness of winter setting in early. You and Eddie had been cuddled up on the couch when he watched you shiver.

“You want the fuzzy cardigan or Fangoria hoodie?” he asked.

“Hoodie!” you yelled as he went into the bedroom.

Eddie was definitely not the type to go through your things. He’d been so careful about making space for you when you’d moved in. Letting you have what privacy you could, given how small the room and trailer were. However, you were the last to wear the hoodie. He opened the wardrobe but it wasn’t hanging there.

He started to dig through a pile of clothes on the wardrobe floor when the sparkles caught his eye. A voice in his head screamed DANGER DANGER, but he couldn’t help himself. The pile of clothes was hiding a bag from the fanciest store in Starcourt. He knew what it was as soon as he pulled the dress from the bag.

Fuck.

Eddie sat on the bed and held the dress in his hands. It was so glittery, so you. You would look so fucking cute in it. If he were alone in the trailer, Eddie probably would have cried.

You were wondering what was taking him so long when Eddie finally emerged from your room, not with a cardigan or hoodie, but wearing the gown you had planned to wear to the dance. It hung from his shoulders with a grace you’d never have predicted.

“I think this is what I’ll wear. What about you?” Eddie said casually, swirling the hem of the dress left then right then back again.

You didn’t want to have the conversation; once you knew Eddie’s opinion on school dances, that was it. Call it embarrassment or enlightenment or whatever you wanted, you didn’t care anymore. At least, that’s what you’d been telling yourself.

“Angel?” he asked when you didn’t laugh or give him any response at all. He moved to kneel in front of the couch, which you had laid down on, belly to the sofa and arms crossed under your head like a pillow.

You mumbled out a, “Mmm?”

“I’m sorry. I didn’t think before I said all that shit. I should have known you’d want to go. Should’ve talked to you first,” he told you.

“Should have known because I’m a conformist?”

“No. Hey,” he said, holding your chin and making you look at him. “I want to do whatever you want to do. I thought you knew that,”

“Doesn’t matter. I don’t want to go anymore anyway,”

“You do. You got this,” he argued, motioning to the dress.

“That was before everything happened. I’ve had that forever,” you lied.

Eddie knew you hadn’t moved in with the dress. He knew it was new. But he knew you lied when you felt backed into a corner. “Okay,” he agreed, nodding and feeling like absolute shit. “For the record – you would look beautiful in this. And I do want to take you to the dance, you know, if you change your mind.”

You said nothing, so he got up and returned to the bedroom. As neatly as he’d ever folded anything, he put the dress back where he found it and sat on the edge of the bed for a bit. He was going to take you to the dance. He was going to make it good. He just needed to figure out how to make you believe that’s what he really wanted too.

…

In the depths of November, your mood began to change for the worse. It was a combination of too many things. The fear of the future. Exams. The fact that you saw your mother in town and she turned around to avoid you. The goddamn fucking dance.

It seemed like every conversation you overheard was about tulle and silk, about pastels and limos and afterparties. With only three weeks until the event, all of Hawkins High was in an absolute tizzy about it. Gratefully, the Hellfire table knew better than to bring it up. Although, nothing would deter Esther.

“I don’t believe you, you know,” she said when you were fixing your hair in the school toilet mirrors.

“About what?”

“The dance. You do want to go,”

“Nope,” you replied, popping the P and trying to be as casual as she was.

“And,” she continued. “I think Eddie knows you want to go too,”

“Can you just drop it? It’s fine. I’m fine.”

Esther turned and looked at you. “I know we haven’t known each other for very long, but if I can tell something’s up, you can bet your ass he can. I’m just saying… It’s not too late. You just have to not be so stubborn.”

Stubborn? You didn’t think that’s what you were being. Then again, you weren’t sure what you were being. After a couple days of thought, you realised Esther was right. You were being stubborn despite what you really wanted and entirely in spite of yourself. Ultimately, it was because it was scary to admit that Eddie had done something wrong. That, even by accident, he had hurt you.

Having time and space between the toxic friendships you had in previous years, and the relationship between you and your parents, it was easy to cast them as villains. For all intents and purposes, they were. However, that meant casting Eddie as your hero. Faultless. Invulnerable. Just. If you admitted to yourself that he’d fucked up, even in that small way, it could threaten to tear down the safety you pinned so dangerously to the idea of perfect Eddie. So, you carried on as you had been.

When the countdown hit the two-week mark, Eddie decided to try to get you to talk. He knew you always felt better when you stopped bottling it all up.

You had put yourself to bed early, it was somewhere between 9:00 and 10:00 pm. Wayne was at work, and Eddie was cleaning up after dinner. When he walked into the bedroom, the door ajar, he watched the way your body moved under the blankets. He’d never tell you, because he was sure it was creepy, but he could tell the difference between the way you breathed in your sleep versus awake and just lying in bed.

Eddie pulled his clothes off and got into the bed. As he reached out and ran the knuckle of his index finger down your spine, he asked, “Do you want to talk about it?”

If you wanted space, you would have not answered. Instead, you shook your head no.

Eddie moved closer to you, wrapped one arm around your waist, and felt a surge of happiness when you took his hand in yours. “Do you want to… kiss about it?” he alternated, pressing a kiss to your neck.

It made you smile, then you felt annoyed he’d pierced your grumpy mood. Then you felt guilty for trying to keep yourself grumpy. What the hell was wrong with you?

“Do you want something from my secret stash of presents for you?”

It was an admission you couldn’t ignore. Turning to lay on your other side, facing Eddie, you made a face at him. “You do have a stash. I knew it,”

“Thought you might have gone looking for it,”

“I don’t go through your stuff,”

“Yeah, but, I don’t know. The curiosity would’ve killed me… Anyway. Something to cheer you up?”

Eddie jumped from the bed when you nodded and started rifling through a drawer. With the bedroom light back on, he handed you a frame about the size of one of your notepads.

“Figured it was the end of the collection,” he explained. Inside the frame was a white piece of paper with the pressed flowers you’d been storing in your History book taped to it. “I saw you take them all out a while back. Thought you might do something with them, but you didn’t,”

“I didn’t know what to do with them. I just put them-”

“Yeah. In The Hobbit. I found the frame when I was going through shit in the hall cupboard.”

You remembered the first time Eddie handed you a little wildflower. It felt like years prior when really it wasn’t all that long ago. Things had moved slowly at first, then quickly by anyone’s standards. Living with Eddie made everything before that seem ancient.

“I love it,” you told him, eyes glassy with happy tears. You could see where Eddie had struggled with the tape, it folding and creasing in places, his fingerprints visible in a few spots. It made it more special.

Eddie watched you put it on the bedside table, leaning against the wall so you could see it from any point in the room.

“I know I can’t make you feel better about everything,” Eddie said then, suddenly serious.

“You shouldn’t have to,” you replied.

“Yeah, but… I just need you to know that when I can, I will,”

“Okay.” You didn’t know exactly what he was talking about, if it was a reference to your parents and taking you in, or the valium slipped before class presentations, or if he was still thinking about the dance. It didn’t really matter. You believed him. “I love you,”

“I love you too, angel. So fucking much.”

The two of you stayed in bed, melted into each other. You touched each other slowly, with more intensity than any of the previous encounters. For hours, you messed around in the dark, practicing ‘everything but,’ until you fell asleep naked, fulfilled, and in love.

…

Two weeks later, there was a car outside the trailer you didn’t recognise. It was the type of car that made it onto the bedroom walls of teenagers, so cool and sleek, a deep red colour. Wayne almost never had visitors and you knew for a fact Eddie didn’t know anyone who could afford a car like that. You were still staring at it as you climbed the steps and entered the trailer.

A started gasp. Your eyes went wide. There were stars made of silver paper hanging from the ceiling; you looked up at how they were stuck there with fishing line and duct tape. Eddie stood next to the kitchen counter, where he had been waiting for you to get home.

He was in a suit. Like, for real. He had black tailored pants and a suit jacket. A white button-up sat underneath, fitted, and tucked. Eddie still looked like himself. His Chuck Taylors ‘for special occasions’ had been selected, rather than dress shoes. His hair was still curly and free and beautiful. Eddie picked up a red pocket square, tucked into his suit’s pocket like Wayne had taught him in preparation for this moment.

He held out a floral corsage.

“Angel, will you go to the dance with me?”

You were nodding before the doubt or the fear or anything bad even had a chance to spark alive at all. When you threw yourself into Eddie’s arms, he spun you around the room.

“Is that what the car’s for?!” you squealed, looking back out the door.

“Of course. Only the best for my baby. You’ve got about an hour to get ready. Go,” he ordered, smacking you on the ass as you squealed again and ran off to do your makeup.

Eddie lit a joint and stood in the doorway of the trailer, proud of himself for fixing the fuck up and genuinely buzzing to spend the night finding all the ways to make you happy.

…

Eddie made you laugh so hard that you got lightheaded. He kept saying stupid shit about the fancy car he’d rented, “She purrs like a kitten,” and honking the horn for no reason. By the time you got to the school, you felt high on love.

While you gathered the skirt of the sparkly pink dress in your hands, Eddie parked and came around to open your door.

“Angel,” he said, offering a hand for you to take.

The school gym had been transformed into an entirely over-the-top and very cliché winter wonderland. Eddie held in the urge to roll his eyes and gag; it was easy once he looked over at you and the ear-to-ear smile on your face.

“We should get photos first, before my makeup wears off,” you suggested.

“Anything you want.”

Although Eddie felt self-conscious in front of the camera, classmates watching from the line, he could feel how excited you were. You stood spooned together and smiled as the photographer tried to make you say ‘cheese.’

“Alright, one for me now,” Eddie said, turning you around and picking you up in a big bear hug. The camera flashed and you laughed.

After photos, you found your way to the table Jeff and Esther were seated at.

“You look so good!” Esther yelled, standing to hug you.

Jeff and Eddie quickly got lost in their own conversation, no doubt judging the sorry excuse for a band playing on stage.

“You can say ‘I told you so.’ You look like you’re gonna burst,” you offered Esther, an olive branch for brushing her off so coldly whenever she had tried to talk to you about the dance.

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” she replied. “I will, however, take my payment in the form of a dance?”

The guys watched as you and Esther slow danced together, all giggles and glitter.

“Dude,” Jeff mused.

“I know,”

“This is not how I thought my Senior year would end.”

Eddie snorted. “Which part? The girlfriend? School dance? The miracle that is your predicted exam grades.”

Jeff looked at him. “How’d you know about that?”

“Those girls tell each other everything. Congrats, man. On it all. Couldn’t think of a more deserving man,”

“You getting soft on me, Munson?”

Eddie grinned, and put his arm around Jeff’s shoulders. “I’ve always been soft on you,”

“Fuck off,” Jeff replied with a laugh.

“Love youuuuu,”

“Yeah. Yeah. Love you too. Now gimme back my personal space.”

Eddie held his hands up in surrender, then kicked back in his chair. “They’re happy,” he noted, going back to watching you and Esther.

“Yeah… And, uh, you? You’re happy?” Jeff asked, not sure of the words coming from his mouth.

“Yeah, man. She’s…” My moon. My stars. My sun. My everything. “Cool. I’m happy.”

There was mediocre punch, then there was spiked punch. Swinging across the dancefloor to songs neither of you really liked. There was party food and bored parent chaperones.

When the band stopped playing and Principal Higgins took centre stage, everyone knew what time it was. From your table, you looked around the room. Hayley was clearly pissed that she wouldn't be queen. People might be nice to her face, but most of the cohort feared her. An anonymous voting system ensured she’d never reign. Besides, nobody stood a chance against Chrissy and Jason, already deemed royalty by most people.

“We’re just having some technical issues. Hold on a moment,” Higgins said into the microphone. You and everybody else watched as people ran on and off the stage, whispering.

“I’m gonna get food,” Eddie whispered to you.

“Wait. Something’s wrong?”

“What?” He looked you up and down, and when you turned and saw the concern on his face, you almost laughed.

“Not with me. I think… they’ve lost the crowns?”

Chrissy and Jason were still crowed, albeit without actual crowns. Jason held a plastic scepter, and Chrissy a bouquet of white roses. Some people cheered, but most half-heartedly clapped.

Eddie was entirely uninterested. “I think they’ve got chicken nuggets. I’ll be back.”

The rest of the dance you watched your ex-friends monopolise most of the dance floor and attempt to make everyone else feel like shit. It wouldn’t work on you. Not then. Not that night. Not with Eddie.

Eddie, who kept asking you to dance, pretending to be some nervous kid. “I can’t believe you danced with me,” he said, funny voice. “I’ve like, had a big ol’ crush on you and thought – tonight’s the night. I’m gonna ask her tonight.”

It was stupid but it made you laugh. It made you blush and bury your face in the crook of his neck while he held you close, slow danced with you like he was born for it.

“Babe, you’re the hottest girl in this room. A walking piece of art,”

“Stop,”

“Never,” he replied immediately. “You’re pretty and smart and kind and beautiful and funny and sweet and you always smell good and are just… I fucking love you,”

“I love you too. I love you so much. Thank you. For tonight. And every night. And knowing how to…” You didn’t want to say ‘look after me’ because it made you feel childish and broken, and Eddie was teaching you that you weren’t either of those things. “Knowing what I need, before I do sometimes.”

Eddie smiled softly, let go of your hips, and held your face in his hands. He kissed your forehead, then nose, then checked on you for a second before kissing you, deeply, letting you kiss back and decide when you wanted to part your lips, let him in.

Later, as the gym was beginning to empty and students found afterparties to attend, you were waiting for Eddie to come back from the bathroom. You spotted him as he re-entered the gym, getting stopped by one of the techy Seniors that bought weed off him sometimes.

They whispered, something exchanged hands, and Eddie was back before you knew it. He looked at you, smirked, and you thought he might say something about it. Normally, Eddie would use his weirdly amazing intuition to see straight through you, see your mind filling with doubt.

Did he change his mind about the dance just so he could come and sell?

That was the old you, though, right? The old you would fixate on the thought. Sabotage happiness.

“You ready to go, angel?”

“Yeah. My feet are killing me,” you replied, looking down and twinkling the toes sticking out of the heels you wore. You should have donned matching Chucks.

After bidding Jeff and Esther a good night – they were off to Esther’s parent-free house – Eddie wrapped his jacket around you before disappearing into the cold night to get the car; he wouldn’t let you walk the short distance across the parking lot. You lost track of him in the crowd though, couldn’t see him until the red car came roaring around the corner.

“Angel,” he greeted, leaning across to open the passenger door. As you climbed in, quickly pulling your shoes off, Eddie continued. “So, I have two more surprises for you. First one is in the back seat.”

He was pulling out from the lot, following other car loads of students until they turned down other streets and went loudly into the bitter Hawkins evening.

“Oh my god! EDDIE!” you screamed, getting on your knees and balancing precariously to pick up the crowns. You bounced back into your seat, put your seatbelt on, and looked at the cheap plastic things. “You stole the king and queen crowns?!”

“No. I’m not sneaky enough for that. I paid someone else to steal them,” he clarified. Oh. That’s what that was. “Figured we deserved them more. You deserved it.”

Having a boyfriend who would do something so audacious for you was way better than winning a popularity contest. Being crowned a queen by Eddie was infinitely more rewarding than walking that stage ever could have been.

You put your crown on and Eddie’s too. He wore it well, lighting a cigarette with one hand and holding it out the open window.

“Can you drive faster?”

“Anxious to get home?” he asked with a grin. You nodded. “Well, first thing’s first: we aren’t going home. And secondly: no. I have a long list of things I wanna do to you, my queen, but putting you in the hospital sure as fuck isn’t one of them,”

“We’re not going home?” That’s what you had locked onto. Surely Eddie wasn’t going to gatecrash an afterparty. You didn’t want to be around anyone but him.

“No, we’re not. But don’t worry. You’re gonna like this.”

He was right, because Eddie was always right about you.

“Now, it’s not the penthouse suite at The Ritz, but it is very literally the best money can buy in Hawkins,” he introduced as he pulled up to the one nice hotel in town. It had valet parking, which was a novelty to both you and Eddie.

A man, wearing the hat and everything, collected the bags from the car’s trunk. Eddie had packed them in secret. Inside everything was classy, all gold Art Deco and Gatsby. Eddie checked in, and you listened to the interaction. The person at reception spoke to Eddie as if he was any other hotel guest, respectful and helpful. Part of you was expecting to be kicked out on sight.

“Technically, it’s the honeymoon suite,” Eddie said as soon as the door had been closed behind you both, welcome champagne and strawberries pointed out upon arrival.

“Do they think we just got married?” you asked him, your speech a little slow, distracted and in awe at the size of the room. The bed alone was probably bigger than the whole bedroom you and Eddie shared. The suite itself could rival the trailer.

“Nah. We’re pretty obviously dressed. The crowns and all.”

You gasped, grabbing the plastic on your head. “What if they hear about what happened? What if they tell someone?”

Eddie had dropped the bags on the floor near the built-in wardrobes. “Don’t think people outside of high school give a shit about that kind of thing. Besides, I think discretion is part of their job.” He turned around just in time to watch you launch yourself face-first onto the bed.

“So soft,” mumbled into the fresh, crisp linen.

Eddie laughed, then turned his attention to the radio. Once an acceptable station had been found, he poured two glasses of champagne. “Are the strawberries, like, for the champagne?”

“What do you mean?” you asked from your position on the bed. You’d pushed back the top sheet and quilt and perched yourself against the plush velvet headboard.

Eddie thought you almost looked like a fairy. Pink organza and sparkles sitting in a field of white. A fairy queen.

“Like, does it go on the glass, like a slice of lemon?”

“No. You just eat them with it. Like how cookies and hot cocoa go together.”

Eddie made an oh, okay face, and brought the glasses over, placing the bowl of juicy strawberries on the bedside table. He kicked off his shoes and carefully hung the suit jacket on a coat hanger. When he climbed next to you, you handed him his glass.

“Cheers,”

“Cheers,” he repeated.

A soft clink of crystal and you downed your glass. It took Eddie longer; the bubbles fizzed in the back of his throat and it burned in a different way than cheap beer or whisky.

He let his head roll back and rest on the velvet, eyes following your hands as they picked up a strawberry and brought it to your mouth. As your lips wrapped around it and you bit into the fruit, juice ran down your chin. Eddie shot his hand out and caught it before it could fall to ruin your dress or the linen. He sucked the juice off his hand, happy to taste anything that came from you.

“You don’t like the champagne,” you observed, breaking the moment’s spell.

“Never had it before,”

“I don’t normally like it, but this is good,”

“Guess it’s one of those things that’s only good when it’s good, you know? Like, when it’s quality,”

“Makes sense,” you agreed. “What are you going to drink?”

“Don’t worry about me, angel.” Eddie was on his side, pulling you closer and kissing your neck. “I’ve got a couple tricks up my sleeve,”

“Are you gonna raid the minibar?”

“I’m gonna raid the minibar.” And he was up and kneeling in front of the small fridge, rifling through it.

You got up and poured more champagne, popped another strawberry in your mouth, and watched Eddie move on to searching through all cupboards and drawers in the suite. He took all the teeny tiny shampoo and conditioners, and anything else that wasn’t glued down.

Eddie finished his quiet rampage, turning his attention back to you. He started to blush, and it hurt when he started to justify his actions. “For Wayne. Like, a souvenir. ‘Cause he helped pay for-”

“Eddie,” you interrupted softly. It’s okay. You don’t need to explain yourself. “I love you.”

His posture visibly relaxed. “I love you too,”

“Can you do me a favour then?”

“Anything,”

“See those big fluffy bathrobes?”

Following your request, Eddie got undressed carefully, hanging the rest of his clothes with the jacket. He pulled one of the robes around himself and jumped onto the bed.

“I think Cuddly Eddie is my favourite,” you told him, smiling up at him.

“Come ‘ere and tell me that again,” he replied, holding out grabby hands.

“Let me just cha-”

Eddie hopped from the bed to land in front of you, stopping your path to the other bathrobe and eliciting a small yelp from you.

“Sorry, but, ah, I’m gonna need you to stay in this for just a little bit longer.”

Goosebumps broke out along your arms, and you sucked in your bottom lip. “Okay,” you whispered.

Eddie nodded at the bed, and you climbed back in. He turned the lights off, leaving only moody lamp light to see through. He returned to you, and you both got comfortable laying on your sides facing each other.

“So… did I do good?” Eddie asked, his voice gentle, his hands taking yours so he could cover them in kisses. He looked at you with those big brown eyes.

“Yep, you did the absolute best,” you praised, turning your arm so it would be wrist-up, letting him kiss along your veins.

“Can you… tell me?” There was a rare tone of nervousness in Eddie’s voice. If he was even a little bit nervous, it meant he was vulnerable. It meant he trusted you.

“You want me to tell you that you did good?”

You just wanted to be sure, wanted to give him precisely what he was asking for, and judging by the way his pupils blew out and the barely-there nod, you were. You knew what he wanted.

“You did so well, baby. Everything’s been perfect. You’re perfect,” you started, voice low but not a whisper.

Eddie wriggled closer to you, held you close, rested his head on your chest. You began to play with his hair, aimless and tender.

“And, all the other girls I know had to basically tell their boyfriends or whoever to ask them. But you had a whole plan, because you’re… ridiculous like that. You make everything special. Even the car ride and taking photos and just everything.”

Eddie was glad you couldn’t see his face. His eyes were welling up with tears. He thought hearing the praise would be good foreplay. Instead of the words going straight into his pants, they were settling in his heart.

“And you looked so hot in your suit. Kind of strange to see you all dressed up like that. But I guess you have to get used to it because that’s what you gotta wear to music award shows and stuff, right?”

He chuckled at that.

“Oh! I don’t know if you planned it or not, like maybe you just couldn’t get pink so close to the date, but the red corsage matched-”

“Your ring,” he cut in. He’d wondered if you had noticed.

“You did it on purpose?”

Eddie nodded into you. “Always thought pink and red go good together,”

“They do,” you agreed, holding your hand up and watching the ruby catch the light at different angles. For a second you forgot you were on a mission. “And the crowns! I thought I saw you selling, but you were being a different kind of bad.” Eddie liked how you said bad. “It’s so… you. It’s like, this super romantic thing but it’s a big fuck you to the whole idea of school dances, and you know Jason is probably gonna be bitching about it for the rest of the year. He’ll probably bring it up at the ten-year reunion,”

“We coming back for that?” Eddie asked bravely.

“No. We’ll be too busy,”

“Doing what?”

“I don’t know… Being in love,”

“Sounds good,” Eddie thought out loud. “Sounds really fucking good to me, angel.” Your red-coated nails scratched against his scalp, making Eddie’s whole body tingle.

“Do you want me to keep going?”

“Please,” he whispered on a breath out.

“Then, after all that, you bring me here. This must have cost you so much…”

It didn’t start so emotional; you’d honestly just tried to call him a good boy and get him all worked out, the same way he could do to you. But then you started to think about it, started to ramble, and you were reminded of how goddamn special Eddie was. How the night was perfect, ripped from the pages of your Eddie-coded love stories.

“All the kind and thoughtful and weird things you’ve done for me, not just tonight but all year… It’s like, made up for everything else that’s happened to me, you know?”

There was something in that. Did Eddie treat you like a queen because the world owed you and he was doing his part? Or would he be the same doting boyfriend even if the rest of your life had been peachy? Did one mean more love than the other? A different kind of love?

Eddie’s brain was going around in circles and he decided to shelf the thoughts, and come back to them another time.

Giving yourself a couple beats of breath, you reigned yourself in from the emotional cliff of love, setting yourself back on the path you had intended to take.

“On top of all of that, you make me feel so warm… and tingly… and like, I get this weird heavy drunk feeling sometimes when you do stuff to me.”

Eddie smooshed his face into your chest, dramatically groaning. “Tingly?”

“Tingly,”

“Where?” he asked, untangling himself from you and sitting up against the velvet headboard.

You followed him, obeying his commands as he held his hands out for you to take, and he brought you over him to straddle his lap.

“Um, well, it starts in my nose,” you explained, watching Eddie’s amused expression. “It goes down and I can feel it all across my neck and chest.” You used your hands to show him, open palm mapping out the hot spots. “It’s like butterflies in my tummy.” A year ago, you never would have willingly drawn attention to your stomach, but you hadn’t even given it a second thought. “Down my spine, and it doesn’t matter how much I arch or bend, it’s always just… I don’t know, running up and down.”

Eddie hadn’t blinked, mesmerised by the very cute and very hot show you were putting on.

“Then I feel it in my thighs, but like, just on insides, where I’m soft,”

“So soft,” Eddie involuntarily repeated. His breathing was getting heavier by the second.

“Yeah. And, uh, where it’s most like that, most tingly, is in my underwear, where only you’re allowed to be,”

“Where exactly is that?” Eddie asked, desperate to hear you say any word that could be deemed even half dirty.

None of the words felt right, either too obscene, too clinical, or too childish. But Eddie was hanging on your every goddamn syllable, and you wanted to see what happened when you said something… like that.

Leaning forward, you wrapped your arms around his neck and brought yourself close to him. It would be easier if you didn’t have to watch him watch you. You kissed the side of his face, then behind his ear, letting your hot breath do some of the work for you.

“Eddie-” He shuddered under you. “You make me… You make my pussy tingly, and warm, and I want you so bad,”

“Jesus fuckin’ Christ,” was all you heard before he had you flipped onto your back, legs spread, and underwear coming off. You were giggling when you felt his lips come into contact with you.

“See… Just… like that,” you praised. “Jus’ like…”

Eddie made you cum once, then afraid to ruin your dress, he helped you up and lifted the dress over your head, putting it on a hanger next to his suit. You watched him, heart all aflutter.

“Again,” he ordered, manhandling you back onto the bed.

“‘Kay,” you agreed happily.

The second time, Eddie had lost himself in the taste of you and how your feet curled and the sounds you made. He watched you more carefully, lifting his head from your body to watch you as he slipped a third finger into you. You grabbed the sheets and pulled, whining and panting and then, pressing down onto Eddie’s hand, doing the work for him.

“Ah, fuck, good girl,” he murmured not loud enough for you to hear. Eddie was grinding himself against the bathrobe and bed, the fabric of the robe creating perfect friction. As you got yourself closer and closer to orgasm, fucking yourself on Eddie’s fingers, he quickly caught up.

You were saying his name over and over, voice getting higher and back lifting from the bed. He took over from you, pumping hard and fast, pulling not just the orgasm from you, but a wave of warm, clear liquid that Eddie immediately started to lap up, making you writhe against his mouth as he wrapped his arms around your thighs to stop you from crawling away from him.

Senses coming back, you could hear first. Eddie swapping between your name, angel, various praises about doing such a good job, and something about the word ‘gush’ which would have made you embarrassed under any other circumstance.

Rich strawberries and fresh clean linen. That dominated the scents of the room. Distantly, Eddie’s shampoo and your perfume.

Your vision was a little fuzzy, so you focused on the ceiling until you had enough energy to sit up on your elbows and look down at Eddie, who had rested his head on one of your thighs, closed his eyes, and wore the sweetest smile. It was completely at odds with what he was doing only seconds before.

Everything felt soft, lavish under your fingertips. And, your mouth tasted of nothing, instead your tongue pressed against your teeth, begging you to find Eddie’s lips and kiss.

“Eddie,”

“Mmm,”

“Come,”

“Already did.”

It was stupid but it made you laugh. “Okay, good, but come here, to me, please.”

Eddie stood, taking off the robe he’d made a mess of, then came to where your arms were held out in wait. He pulled the covers down and brought them back over both of you, finally cuddling up with you. He kissed the top of your head, more content than he’d been in… He couldn’t remember.

“I want to have sex,” your small but sure voice came from under the covers.

Eddie couldn’t help but laugh at the finality of your statement. All business.

“Why are you laughing at me?” you squeaked, looking up at him with the cutest angry face.

Eddie leaned down and kissed you. “Mm’not laughing at you. Promise. You just sounded… I don’t know. I’m not laughing. I swear.” Pulling another cute, angry, and suspicious expression, Eddie kissed you again. “We-we can, yeah, do… that,”

“Only if you want,” you said then, a little thrown by his reaction.

“I want!” he almost yelled. “Sorry. Fuck. Sorry.” He lowered his voice. “I want. And I like… No, wait, I’m proud of you… you know, for asking… None of that came out right,”

“It’s okay. I know what you mean.”

Eddie meant ‘for you to get to the point where you can verbalise what you want is so fucking massive, and I am infinitely in awe of your progress and entirely in love with you’ and you knew that.

“Um, I might have, planned… for this… just in case, you know?” he told you, trying very hard not to sound like he did all of it to earn sex, like you’d ever think that.

“Yeah?”

Eddie paused to look at your face. You were glowing, happy, excited. Eddie nodded, “Yeah.” He retrieved a packet of condoms and bottle of lube.

You’d never really seen either, so were curious, took them both from him and read the packaging. “Strawberry flavour? To match the champagne?” you joked.

“No. Not even I’m that cheesy. It’s all they had. Hawkins, you know?”

“What could you get out of Hawkins?” you wondered out loud.

“Any other flavour. No flavour. Glow in the dark. Some that feel real cold. Some that feel hot. Sky’s the fucking limit,” Eddie answered, no comedy all education.

“Oh… Where… from?”

You’d trapped him. Eddie grinned and scrunched his nose up at you. “There’s, ah, a sex store… in Lafyette,”

“Can you take me?”

Eddie’s eyebrows rose and his grin got wider. “Yeah? Absolutely… Jesus, you’re killing me in all sorts of ways tonight, angel.” Eddie pounced, tickling you and making you kick the air and squeal. When tears were running down your cheeks, he stopped to watch you catch your breath. “You good?” he asked, brushing hair from your face.

“I’m good,” you whispered back, looking at him like he was your whole entire world.

“Good. Come ‘ere.”

Eddie devoted a lot of time to making sure you were ready; mind, body, and soul. He wanted jelly legs and dripping wetness. Heart beating fast. Clammy hands. He wanted you begging, which you did. You whined his name, pushed at his face with your nose.

“I got you,” he said, getting himself between your legs. Everything about your body was screaming please and ready. You were so warm and open, and his mind was going to short circuit if he didn’t pull himself together.

You wriggled under him, getting comfy, then wrapped your legs around his waist. Eddie hissed at the feeling, making you smile.

“Here, put this under your butt.” Eddie placed a pillow there, and two under your head. He was fussing over you, then the condom, and it was adorable.

“Eddie, hey, hey,” you almost clicked at him like a puppy. “I’m good.”

He nodded, suddenly nervous. You, on the other hand, were somehow the opposite. No nerves. No anxiety. You just really, really wanted to feel him.

The kissing started off slow, then needy and messy. You felt caged in by his arms, pressed into the mattress by his hips; you loved it. Safe in a bubble.

“Ready?”

“Uh-huh, yes,”

“‘Kay, just, ah, tell me… if… anything,”

“I know. I will.”

Eddie nuzzled into your neck, kissed your skin lazily. He was painfully hard and just a little terrified that he’d cum within seconds. You felt him glide himself over your clit, and down, lining the tip up. Eddie looked at you as he slowly pushed in.

Your eyes were closed and your mouth opened, a happy gasp escaping. He couldn’t read what it meant when your eyebrows pulled together, but he knew the look of pleasure on your face. Eddie stopped himself from asking you if you were okay; he didn’t want to ruin the moment for you.

The arch in your back. How hard your fingers were gripping his arms. The smile forming on your face.

Then, he had bottomed out, whimpered, and the sound cut through you. You needed him to do it again, so you bucked your hips. It worked, a string of chaotic noises coming from him.

“Are you gonna move?” you whispered.

“Um… No… I’m gonna fuckin’ cum,” he admitted, a bark of laughter ending his sentence.

“It’s okay if you do. Honest. This feels really good,”

“Doesn’t hurt?” he asked. You shook your head. “At all?”

“No. I read in a magazine that it’s a myth that it’s normal to hurt. Like, it can. But not like how people always say,”

“Oh… okay,” was all he could say. How the fuck were you forming full sentences? “Jus’ tell me… if, ah, faster… or whatever.”

You nodded at him, let go of his arms to reach up and fold his hair behind his ears. When you ran your hand along his face, he rubbed his cheek in your palm.

“Kiss,” you ordered.

Obeying, Eddie shifted his weight onto his elbows, let his hands find your hair, then kissed you. Slowly, he started to move, careful, deep movements. He was able to find a rhythm that made you bite back a stupid grin.

“Faster,” you asked, breathy.

“If I do… I won’t… last,”

“S’okay. Please.”

Faster felt deeply right. Like you were exactly where you were meant to be.

Your mind went blank, and you wrapped your arms around his neck and pulled Eddie down against you hard. He was panting, swearing, and just over a minute later, he came harder than he ever had before.

Almost all of Eddie’s weight was on you, but it was comfortable. Before he could speak or check on you, or even pull out, you’d sighed happily and then, much to Eddie’s amazement, passed out.

When he got up, respectfully cleaned you best he could, and tucked you in, Eddie kissed your forehead and whispered, “I love you, lightweight.”

Next Chapter: 11- Afterglow

Fic Taglist: @ajeff855 @b-barnes04 @eddie-munson-is-a-sweetheart @nerd-squad-headquarters @word-wytch@harrys-tittie @munsonsmel0dy @sidthedollface2 @eddiethesexy @bardicfrustration @orpheusredux @munsonsgirl71 @a-time-for-wolvess @rosaline-black @thegirlwhohides @emotionaldreamer @e0509 A@briasnow-blog @kiyastrf94 @erinsingalong @rainylana

Eddie Taglist: @solomons-finest-rum @ruinedbythehobbit @munsonlives @sweetpeapod @depressooo---expressooo @thorfemmes @hawkins-high @corrodedhawkins @grungegrrrl @lilzabob @mymoonisalways-in-scorpio @averagemisfit03 @ches-86 @ilovecupcakesandtea @onehotgreasymechanic @hazydespair

#Mine #Eddie Munson #Eddie Munson/You #Eddie Munson/Reader #Eddie Munson x You #Eddie Munson x Reader #Eddie Munson x Chubby!Reader #Chubby!Reader #Stranger Things #Eddie Munson Fanfic

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aprillikesthings · 1 month

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GOOD MORNING (afternoon actually) time for more she-ra

(I actually started this episode last night lol but wasn't able to finish it)

s5 ep3 corridors

oh this episodes starts with the intro instead of an open. okay.

nnnoooooo

Not only do Catra's ears do a little twitch but it makes a really adorable noise????

Also I just looked at my fic to make sure I mention that Catra's eyes glow a little and got distracted rereading my own porn lolol but yes I did already edit that into a scene

man I feel sad for both of them here. they're both just little kids--with like, zero good role models :(

poor babies

anyway, nice segue

oh those lights are explosions. oh. :(

would you like some heavy-handed but appropriate symbolism

but also the clones are basically stalking her every move, and she runs into the clone that's actually Hordak

I wanted to get a screenshot of her smoothing down her hair and accidentally got whatever this is lol

but yeah Hordak is like "I don't know what you're talking about. anyway go away."

LOL

The ship shuts down and stops in space which is really funny because THAT'S NOT HOW SPACE WORKS unless you're fighting the gravity of a nearby planet or star or something you should maintain your speed forever

but whatever, fantasy universe, plot, etc.

awwwww Catra and Glimmer are talking again. Their banter is so easy to read as flirtatious, too.

It is a struggle not to screenshot every single facial expression they make during this scene.

...Also, I should read my friend's Glitra fics.

THEY'RE SO CUTE

Glimmer mentions specifically raiding the kitchen for cake enough times that I'm 99% sure I subconsciously remembered it when I wrote that short fic that includes it considering I wrote/posted it before I got to any of the mentions of it in my re-watch.

She even mentions eating it with her hands and here I thought it might be weird that I put it in the story lolol

I forgot entire huge portions of plot but remembered Glimmer likes to sneak into the kitchen to eat cake with her hands.

(they're talking about sleepovers)

UGH THIS SCENE IS SO GOOD also the look on Catra's face while she talks about Adora during happier times 🥺

SHIT Daci came upstairs okay I gotta finish this tomorrow

it is now tomorrow :D

don't mind me gonna rewatch this whole scene because it's so painfully sweet

OH ALSO one of the things that's good to note for myself later (re: character stuff) is that Catra is still a little shit here. She opens the conversation by taunting Glimmer about her failed attempts at escape, and when Glimmer pushes back she initially starts to leave.

So yeah. She's always still a bit of a brat.

ALSO I want to note that part of the reason they're willing to tolerate each other at all is that, at this point in the plot, they've both done Pretty Bad Shit. Whether it's the same amount of bad shit is a matter of debate, but Glimmer feels horribly guilty for trying to use the Heart of Etheria and allowing Horde Prime to find them--she's even the reason Catra is on the ship. So they're sort of equals at this point. I don't think Glimmer would be friendly to Catra to quite the same extent if she didn't have that hanging over her. I could be wrong though.

But also yeah they're still very similar people.

look at how soft she is ;_;

but yeah Glimmer's talking here, and oof, look at Catra

do you also have some regrets bb

;_;

and then she gets up and walks off without a word to Glimmer

lol the claws on the wall, absent-mindedly. I know why she's doing that--the urge to leave a mark, however minor--"I was here"--to be even the tiniest thorn in the side of an enemy that unfathomably powerful.

another allusion to Christianity

they went for (synthesized) Gregorian chanting here instead of the organ

oh no it's that fucked-up baptism thing D:

(true story: a lot of churches are willing to baptize you more than once, especially if they're weirdoes and don't think other churches' baptisms count. The Episcopal Church, like most mainline protestant denominations, won't re-baptize you--if your previous baptism was done with the Trinitarian formula ("Father, Son, and Holy Spirit") it counts. This actually gets tricky if you were baptized as a Mormon, because they do use the Trinitarian formula, but they mean entirely different things by it! In some parts of the country you'll get rebaptized, in others you won't. Sometimes they'll do what's called a conditional baptism, where they literally say "If you are not baptized, [name], I baptize you in the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit." Like. They insert a "just in case" clause. They also do this for people who just do not know if they were baptized--like if you can't ask your parents whether you were baptized as a baby because they're dead/no-contact. Anyway I was seven when I got baptized, so I remember it, which is nice; but I did text my mom about it when I was about to get confirmed and it turned out she'd kept my baptismal certificate all these years?!)

I don't know if they were going for The Meme this time--I don't think so? it's just a good way to frame this scene? --but I cannot unsee it

oof it must hurt to admit that, but also, it must be a bit of a relief to actually GENUINELY NOT KNOW and be unable to give away anything

"And yet you seek to protect her" dude has her number that's a fact

oh god he tells her to get info from Glimmer D:

"If I could tell you where Adora is I would! She's my enemy! I want her gone!" oh baby you're so convinced

at this point in the plot I'm not entirely sure he's wrong, but of course he misunderstands why it's a bad thing and the solution to it

(I get that a sprinkle of water on your head is a totally valid baptism but also I think more mainline churches should have full-immersion options bc I just think it makes sense from a symbolism standpoint. I know some mainline churches will allow you to do it if you're an adult getting baptized. Depends on the church/clergy.)

ANYWAY real glad that baptismal fonts/pools aren't electrified

And yes bringing Catra there was a threat

And Catra brings Glimmer cake

aww

she could have stood looming over Glimmer here. Instead she's literally on her knees and holding Glimmer's other hand. She doesn't want to intimidate Glimmer into giving her information. She wants Glimmer to kNOW.

Glimmer drops the cake.

I'm gonna chew my fingers off aaaaugh

I'VE HIT THE IMAGE LIMIT i knew I would and I'm only halfway through the episode hold on

#april rewatches spop #corridors

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bylightofdawn · 3 months

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Seeds Snippet

Okay I'm just so ridiculously happy that Jaster and Jango have gotten to this point I am totally gonna post a snippet. It's TECHNICALLY Sunday so this could totally be WIP Sunday adjacent. XD

Context, Jaster is laid up in a hospital bed after his pretty gnarly injuries from his fight with Tor Vizsla, they were previously discussing Arla and how she'd gotten involved in the whole thing. I am gonna redact certain key story spoilers but mainly it's just them having a real, wholesome conversation and Jango finally works up the guts to confess to Jaster that he doesn't want to be Mand'alor. Something he's been hiding and stewing over pretty much the whole damned fic.

I feel like Jaster's B-tier parenting has definitely upgraded over the fic and I'm willing to give him a solid A-tier parenting gold star at this point. As always, it's super rough, not edited, and since it was written last post-midnight, it is bound to be even more typo-riddled and dramatically incorrect than normal. Those are Gremlin El hours after all.

Surprise flashed across Jango’s face when Jaster said that. A troubled look quickly followed it. “That was stupid of her.”

“I agree; I wish she’d trusted me enough to communicate her plans at the very least. But I also understand why she did it. Death Watch taught her the best way of solving her problems is with violence; it’s going to take a lot of time and effort for her to learn to outgrow those ingrained habits. And while I do understand why she did what she did, I would be lying if I didn’t admit it has shaken my trust in her somewhat.”

Something akin to fear shadowed the teen’s eyes. “Are you going to send her away?” Jango asked, voice going tight.

“No, I think that would only serve to prove all of her fears and concerns about us correct if I were to do that. And I also think it would make her backslide and we don’t want that. Also? I would never do that to you, Jango so don’t worry about that. We’re just going to have to take things slow. But I was serious when I made my offer to assist her in settling into any life she wanted to pursue. I don’t want to see her slip through the cracks.”

Jaster’s lean face wore a weary and tired expression. “I’m afraid of what we will find when we head home and make a more concerted effort to find the Death Watch training base. It’s clear we cannot leave that to lie any further. I suspect there will be too many Arla Fetts we will discover when we start turning over rocks on Concordia.” He looked up at Jango then with a somber look on his face.

“I don’t want your generation or the ones that follow to inherit our war. And I don’t want to see an entire generation of children have their childhoods ripped away because of Tor Vizsla’s insanity and zealotry. I fear the damage has already been done but maybe we can mitigate some of that pain and sorrow going forward.”

Jango nodded seriously and settled back into the chair next to Jaster’s side.

“Speaking of the future, there’s something I’ve been meaning to talk to you about.”

“What’s on your mind, Jango?”

The boy looked anywhere but directly at Jaster as he visibly battled with coming up with what he wanted to say.

“I’ve been thinking about this for a while, so I don’t want you to think this is a rash decision. But…I don’t want to be Mand’alor. I know everyone expects me to step up and that you need a proper successor, but I don’t think that’s me.”

Jango’s words confirmed that Jaster had been suspecting for a while if he was being truthful with himself. And at part of him understood just how much pressure it was to place on the shoulders of a young teenager. Still, he knew how much that must have cost Jango to admit.

“I understand and I respect your choice. I never, ever wanted you to think I was expecting you to succeed me. Hells, this isn’t some blood dynasty that needs to be handed down anyway. I’m sorry if you felt pressured or like there was some expectation to do so. I’ll make it clear to everyone as soon as I’m better.”

“But…after everything that’s happened, that’s just going to make people panic more, I think.”

“That’s my problem to deal with, you don’t need to take that pressure on your shoulders. And if people are assuming just because you’re my son that means I’m automatically going to chose you to pick up the mantle when I retire then I’ll have to set some people straight. Yes, things might be in flux and in transition for a while. And I would not be surprised if someone looks at me and thinks I’m a crippled and weak target and I will cross that bridge if it comes to it. I will respect the old traditions and answer any challenger who thinks they can lead our people better than me.”

Fear curdled in Jango’s stomach at the realization that Jaster’s injuries had really left him in a precarious position.

[Redacted story spoilers here] Jaster assured him and reached out to ruffle Jango’s mussy curls affectionately, something the teen only visibly tolerated.

“Now, I want you to get out of this place; I want you to go get some real food, find a shower, brush your damned hair and get some real sleep in a real bed. That’s an order, understand?” He said playfully, but there was a hint of steel in his voice all the same, and Jango recognized the order for what it was.

“Yes, buir.” It was one of the few times when Jango said that word with sincerity, not a hint of exasperation, scorn or irony. Jaster felt something lighten in his chest.

“Good, I’ll see in twelve hours, nothing less.”

And that earned him an exasperated eye-roll from the teenager, which was almost to be expected at this point.

“I love you, kiddo.” Jaster decided to press his luck just a little if only because he didn’t want a day to go by that, his son had any doubt that he loved him. And if that meant saying it out loud more often and being more proactive in demonstrating it, he would do it.

“Yeah, me too.” Jango said a little husky as he climbed to his feet. After hesitating, he leaned down again and gently hugged Jaster one last time before booking it for the door.

#wip sunday #el writes #fanfic snippet #jaster mereel's a- parenting skills #jaster mereel #jango fett #seeds for the future fanfic

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kmlaney · 2 months

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so, about a month ago, I posted this bit of background material for the @sipofsnips word game. I made a comment to @fallenscintilla that I might post the entire scene, just to show how bad a mental health day Phil had. Here it is, basically not edited at all.

It occurs immediately after this snip, posted last week. CW for language, drinking, alcohol, mention of execution, and detailed description of a person vomiting.

long post

One of my brothers-in-law takes Mama. Whether home or with him I don't recall. Or care, either. All I care about is getting piss drunk and hopefully wiping the last week or so out of my memory. I buy a bottle in low town--the one place around not picky about who they sell to on execution day, provided your coin is good. It burns going down and makes my eyes water. Utter shit but it’s getting the job done.

The main road is too bright and cheery for my mood right now. All these fucking idiots. Laughing. Singing. Alive. Fuck ‘em. I turn down a sidestreet. Maybe an alley. Whatever. Music isn’t so goddamn loud. It’s nice and shadowy. Smells like shit and garbage. Just like this whole damn town. Whole damn world, all of it shit and garbage. I take a hearty swig from my emptying bottle and cough a few times. “TO HELL WITH ALL OF YOU!” I shout to no one in particular. "RATFUCKING BASTARDS!" Damn, that feels good. Just. Get it out there. Yeah.

Something scampers off a barrel and I swivel toward the sound. “YEAH YOU BETTER RUN, SPRINGER! RUN OFF AND HIDE! IN THE TRASH! WHERE YA BELONG, CHICKENSHIT!” Might not be him. Might be a rat. ‘Course he is a rat. “CHICKENSHIT RAT BASTARD! YA LIKE TOADYING FOR WHIDBY? KISS HIS ARSE GOOD?”

A door opens up in one of the buildings and light spills into the alley. A person steps out. I think they notice me. “Shut up, ya drunk,” they call.

“FUCK OFF!” I yell back. “FUCK OFF! FUCK YA'LL OFF!” The glow is too godamn bright in my nice dark alley. “GONNA FUCKING HANG WHIDBY ON HIS OWN GODDAMN GALLOWS AND ALL HIS FRIENDS BESIDES!” They disappear into the building but leave the door open. When I spin around my shadow’s ten feet tall. I take another drink. Barely notice the burn. "SEND 'EM ALL TO HELL! DEVIL'S WAITING ON YA!"

"Philla?" There's a soft touch on my elbow and a voice beside me.

I lurch around. "WHO FUCKING WANTS TO KNOW?"

"A friend."

"AlN'T GOT NO FRIENDS!" Bring up the bottle and some sloshes out. Damn shame, waste. "Cept this right here." Another glug. Nice.

"How about you come inside?"

Do I know this person? I'm not sure. "Fuck the fuck off."

“I was a friend to your father.”

“THEN WHY AIN’T YOU SWINGING WITH HIM?” I scream. Fucking remind me, goddammit. I upend the bottle and guzzle the rest. Toss it away. It breaks against a building. Now I gotta buy another.

“There’s more inside. How about you come with me?”

Oh, lucky me. “More?” I stand, wavering.

“Yes. As much as you’d like. Come in off the street, Philla.” They tug my elbow toward the open doorway.

I let them guide me. “I got coin.” Coin is important. Coin means booze. Booze means oblivion.

“Don’t worry about that.”

The light’s bright. I hear music and conversation but it flows together. Noise. “Too cheery,” I complain.

They help me up the two or three or ten steps to the open door. “I’ll put you up private. Don’t worry.”

I squint against the glare from the lamps in the hallway. Far, far, far in the distance, I think I see a crowd. Tobacco smoke scents the air. Tobacco and whiskey and leather. That’s where the booze is. I take a tottering step that direction but that same soft touch at my elbow redirects me.

“This way, Philla.”

There’s stairs. Oh, fuck me. I grasp for the handrail and miss. Twice.

Behind me, I hear the voice speaking but not to me. “Take her up to one of the empty rooms on the third floor. Don't leave her alone, even for a minute. Keep her lubed if she wants but most of all quiet. There’s been enough death today.”

"Yes, Miss Peaches." Different voice. A strong arm grips me around my chest and there's a shoulder under my armpit, helping me up the stairs. "Come on, Philla. Up we go."

I wake in my own bed and immediately wish I hadn't. Sunlight streams in around the closed curtain, tunnels through my eyeballs, and curdles my brain. My stomach churns and gurgles in a decidedly unfriendly way. Something reeks to high heaven. It might be me. I groan and throw an arm over my eyes. It doesn't help much.

"Well, maybe fourth time's a charm. How are you feeling?"

I move my arm and crack open one eye. A woman sits in Mama's old rocker across the room. Strawberry blonde hair, simple blue dress, and quite frankly that's all I notice before covering my eyes again because they ache so bad. "Like shit." My voice sounds nauseous.

"Answering questions. That's a good sign," she says.

I groan again. Thinking about words is an effort. "Mind telling me who the fuck you are and why you're in my house?"

"Asking questions, even better." She giggles. "My name's Liese. Miss Peaches sent me home to take care of you."

"Nungh," I grunt in reply.

"We'll see if it sticks this time," Liese says.

I slowly, slowly, sort through her answer. "Peaches?" I ask, settling on the most pressing issue.

"Miss Peaches, yes."

"Mama here?" Any loud noises and my head will explode, and if Mother discovers one of Miss Peaches’ ladies here there will be a lot of loud noise.

"No."

Her answer brings it back, all of it, everything I was trying to forget. The arrest, the executions, the…the hanging. The whole thing. Something between a sob and a moan escapes my lips and my stomach rolls. I’m going to be sick. I try to turn on my side and Liese is there, helping. She even has a slop bucket. But it doesn’t matter because all I manage is dry heaves. My nose is running a steady stream. I wipe it away with the back of one hand. Liese cleans off my hand and nose with a dry cloth. Like Mama or---that train of thought leads to another choked sob and more heaving.

I have to know. When the spasms pass I ask, “What day is it?”

"Tuesday."

"Fuck me." Tuesday. Fuck.

Liese places one arm around my shoulders. “How about sitting up?”

I try to lay back down. "How about no?”

It doesn't matter because Liese hauls me up anyway. My head swims with the change of position and I gag a few times. “There. How do you feel?” she asks.

I squint my eyes open against the light. I’m wearing a long shirt I don’t think is mine. I certainly don’t remember changing into it. My legs and feet are bare. "Like shit and also confused."

< stuff happens > < Location: Phil's house later that day >

I think it’ll stay down this time. But I’m wrong, and Liese realizes it a half-second before I do. She shoves the slop pail at me barely in time to catch my spew. I vomit up the food I just ate until there’s nothing left in my stomach. Then I vomit up sour yellow bile until I run out of that, too. I puke until my belly aches from the effort and I can’t anymore. She gives me a mouthful of water to rinse, setting off another round of dry heaves. God, everything hurts.

Liese wipes my face and mouth with a damp cloth like I’m a child. She crouches down beside me and puts my arm over her shoulders. “Let’s get you to the jakes. On three. One, two, three!” She stands and brings me with her despite my groaning protests. I struggle to make my legs work. They don’t want to. My heels slip on the floorboards. Eventually I manage to get them under me but it’s Liese bearing my weight. She leans to grab the slop bucket in her free hand. “Come on, Philla.”

< stuff happens > < New Location: Peach House, Later >

Miss Peaches walks around the end of the bar to stand beside me. "There's a line between drowning your sorrows and drinking yourself to death and you rolled right over it without slowing down. So I cut you off and sent Liese home with you once you dried out enough to stand."

"I don't remember."

"I'm not surprised. I ought to have done sooner,” she says. “My condolences, Philla. He was--"

I hold up a hand to stop her. "Don't. Just don't. I had to go past the square to get here and if I have to think about it I'll be sick. Not today. Not now, please." Christ, I'm begging. I can't look at her. I can't look at anything but the dark polished wood of the bar I’m leaning on. My haggard, distorted reflection stares back at me. There's a black chasm, a cliff, barely beyond my toes and only the thinnest wire keeping me from taking that final step and falling in. "I want a drink."

"I won't serve you," Miss Peaches says.

“I've half a mind to find someone who will.” More than half, if I’m honest. Wouldn’t be hard even this early. Not in low town.

She rests her hand gently on my arm. “Don’t.”

It’s so like my father I feel tears forming hot in the corners of my eyes. They roll down my cheeks. I squeeze my eyelids shut to try to stop them but they creep out anyway. My breath hitches in a sob. Fuck. I can’t lose it now. Not here. Not in public. I blink a lot, snurfle the tears back, then drag out a coin purse and set it on the bar. “I, ah, I owe you…for the, ah, the room and all.” The words come out ragged and hoarse. I almost don’t recognize my own voice.

Miss Peaches folds my fingers back over the bag. “No, you're paid full,” she says. Her other hand brushes my hair behind my ear and ends resting across my shoulders in a gentle embrace.

I choke out another sob and feel her soft pat on my shoulder. It breaks the dam. My eyes squeeze shut again and I start shaking. No sounds. She gathers me in and I cling to her shoulders, curled into her embrace, when the wailing begins in earnest. She holds me while I cry out all the pain I tried to drink away before and then some. At some point she guides me to one of the card tables and eases me down into a chair, then sits with me until I'm all wrung out. It’s ugly. It feels like hours.

When the shakes finally stop and the tears slow she smooths my hair and asks, "Better?"

"Not really." I feel like I did when I stopped puking. Nothing's fixed. I'm not done. I'm just spent. Numb and hurting at the same time. “I ruined your dress,” I say. Snot and tears pucker the shimmering blue material. It looks like someone’s baby spit up and then some.

Her face shows no disapproval. “I have others.”

#kmlaney writes #kmlaney characters #writing #bad luck phil #skyfallen #mistlands #liese #miss peaches #Phil's terrible horrible no good very bad week or so

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meandmyechoes · 9 months

Text

Kingohger ep24

HAPPY BIRTHDAY ERICA~!!!!

LOTS happened IRL and I'm near my fking limit. dpeending on kingoh to keep me going at this point

big big shame the kyoto event is cancelled because of the typhoon😭😭 but at least 14/8 Kyushuu is safe so we'll still find out if they let Rita have short hair

--- episode ----

Gira awakened the giant robot "with the people" 😭😭

kamejim still lives huh. a split in opinion in the villains... destroy the earth vs. rule the earth 🤔🤔

wait this is the same global warming plot as g-rosso 😂😐 /jk

is there deeper meaning zooming in on Gokkan…? (like where exactly IS the bugnarok base and how that lead to 27-30?)

Gerojim following up with each sentence after Jeramie cuuute

Jeramie my dear, if you keep up with the "protecting the young is the duty of the elders" I'm gonna be really afraid for you near the 40s

(edit: glad I misheard this: he said "disciplining the young" ok boomer)

busy man fighting and narrating for the show

ohhh he changed the narration "the story of Hell's King and another who'd become king" it's entirely about him now

he's even taken over his teammates' OP shots

the kings asking gira to validate their treaty and. rita. rita-sama. how does moffun marathon help with the melting of your glaciers

dead stare rita 💜

OI does Caucasus Kabuto-jou even HAVE a security if a nine-year-old can get in or is the orphanage some kind of ninja academy instead

ah… Boon... Gira can you just adopt him otherwise the first policy you make as king should've been improving the orphange's welfare huh 😢 but yes more personal vs. duty conflict

it hurts them both for Gira to say "the evil king is not your nii-chan" 🥺

Yanma looking sideways when in fact the other kings are in front of him in his phone

Yanma你嫁過去啦好無😂 賢內助

不満を発散しないと爆発しる

Rita: "If one cannot disperse thier dissatisfaction, they will explode." perfect. 100% what someone who screams random would say

AHHHH Geroujim-chan helping!! Good boy! Jeramie defending him!! Geroujim refuse to leave him alone!!

Takada Masahi being the busiest person running both A & B plot this ep 😂😂

stopping mid-fight to talk... what a jeramie thing to do

ah they really are a shooting stand told you Yanma looks like a scammer lol. Why are the prizes his personal merch...

New Fry Noodle dance just dropped

as a person i'm fulfilled. to be able to hear Rita singing* Moffun's Song on record

what privledge to have the Sovereign/Chief Justice make you shaved ice…

the ice machine making chibi moffun chirps

"chimidoro" + red syrup 😂

Takada-san has a close-up too!

lamp post… smol. helpless. the evil king.

Speaking of which these three aren't royal blood (rita quantum as always but)

The team care about Gira as a person before he is king 😭

this may not be the best storytelling or my fan filter is too heavy at this point but. i really love how the team has this unsaid understanding and respect of each other's position on the (equal!) ground that they are both leaders of their country and had to face the same struggle of duty vs. self

and that kizuna is often reflected in action (instead of words)!

taking Jeramie's speech about "what's written in the past cannot be changed, but the present and the future is still in my hand" with Gira's conversation with Rainoir… the theme of creating your own future ne.

Like, I feel like this episode is Jeramie's movie (where his character exploration was sacrificed for screentime in the actual one)

the cameras! can you be more obvious! the eventual Red-Sixth heart-to-heart is gonna kill me

Gira repeating his philosophy of "I protect the people, the people protect those around them" as echoes to his brother (ep18) and movie's "living in this world is hell (re:ep23)" huh

Jeramie kneeling down below his sight line when Boon is all offenseive 😭😭

Boon, you're both Ohsama Sentai 😭

Jeramie is "The Prophet" not because he actually has prophetic power but the current animosity/ignorance is created by his stories and choice of words 😭😭

Jeramie thinking his wordings is just a statment of fact while others interpret it as an opinion is peak autistic behaviour

his disillusionment *heart hurts* Masahi's acting and also the cameras closing in + replicating 11's angles. He put his bug hand over his face like the spider mask that he stayed behind all those years. the mask that was a gift from his parents. maybe as if to hide, maybe as now he truly understands the bugnarok. whyyy is jerami's character so tragic!! (talk about being named after greek myth characters)!

ah Gira immediately covering Boon!

exclusive full team transform!

ooh Boon held onto his cape!

the gattai took too long and the monster ran away 😂 (FALSE)

minatures my love!!

red gira i missed you

minatures my love!!

ahh high five!!

history repeats itself...

formation fights formation fights!!

Souchou are you flying with tonbo wings !?!

the b&w shippers!

(but Kaguragi's movie scene about betrayal!)

His middle name is Idomonarak?? (namesake)

(edit: with Himeno having one as well, are the kings' middle name gonna be a story? or had a story but not included to save screentime?)

I'm really glad they kept Jeramie's weakness in family matters (not as much a "lack of strength" but something that can easily persuade him since he values it) because i'm also very weak in family matters… that's one of the reason i grew a liking to him

i objected to yanma at the same time as gira. thank you gira 😭

"I'll do it all by myself. Only then can I be the King who Rules Over All." STOP YOU'RE IN A SENTAI S.E.N.T.A.I we join forces and have NAKAMA didn't we went through with this whole arc with rita (at least in my head) 😭

but that's a very Sixth thing to do. um *nods*.

Eighth-chan!!! NOOOOOOOOO NOOOOOO there's no way back once you go giant!

I salute you. You are a good villain.

Jeramie reaching out with his bug hand

"Akarui" any connection to Deathnarok's comment looking into Gira's eyes in ep10?

bro I love this episode but I didn't expect it would be because of the main plot part and not the silly matsuri part?!?

they are furthering the angle that everyone involved in ep20's relief operation is a member of the Taskforce 😭

totally forgot to take note of earcuff-chan. too distracted by plot and expecting tomorrow

+ if they have the whole supporting cast here is this is probably what they shot on Yuhei-san's birthday (19 July)

ep25:

KABE... KABE... KABEDON??!?!!?!?!?!?!

#kingohger #kolb #kingohger spoilers #kingoh meta

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missrandomdreamer · 1 year

Text

Family Ties

just a snippet of writing for Hope and her brother talking about life and Karl meeting said brother. The siblings conversation was a lot more cut-throat but then I realized Hope probably wouldn't say what she was thinking out loud so dialed it back a bit. Also people will get a glimpse of Hope when she is around her family which is very different than when she is with other people :T This was just something I wanted to write, not really edited and not sure where it will fit in the over all story but just kind of felt like writing something like this *shrugs*

"You dyed your hair again , it looks like crap."

"Wow, nice to see you again to Merle."

Hope couldn't hide her frown and the slight pain in her eyes, but luckily for her the purple shades protected her brother seeing the latter. Merle Cohen Joyce, a foot taller than her, skinnier than a toothpick and blue eyes that looked at you a certain way made you feel like shit. That was her brother.

Merle looked her over from underneath his baseball cap wit his judgemental eyes, "Did you get more tattoos."

Hope rolled her eyes and pushed off her yellow jeep and walked to the entrance of the cemetery. "No, I did not. I haven't got any new ones since leaving home. Did you come all the way up here to talk shit?"

Merle followed her behind rolling his own eyes at his younger sister, instantly catching up her in only a few strides due to his long legs. "Still have the sailor mouth I hear."

"You bring it out of me." she muttered back, tightening her purple hair tighter in its ponytail. Hope sighed and looked out around the cemetery. They were the only two there, much like how it always had been. No one ever came to this cemetery, not anymore. It was a place they used to go to all the time when they were both younger. It always brought them comfort even if they didn't even have relatives their, it was just a nice peaceful place. Hope carefully watched her steps as they traversed the grounds, annoyed that her brother was walking always a step ahead. She heard her brother huff, but not out of being tired but of annoyance.

"To answer your question I didn't come here to make fun of you, entirely, just had to get it out of the way first." He grinned down at her and the younger woman scowled up at him. "I came up to see how you were doing and well to catch up. Mary is visiting her family up here and so I thought I would do the same."

"Only out of convenience, I see."

"I was going to ask if you wanted to come to dinner with us tomorrow night. You and her siblings got along last time. You guys like the same stuff, they all really like you, for some reason."

"I'm not in the people pleasing, talking over dinner, trying to make conversation type of mood." Merle huffed again and turned to her, eyes narrowed down,

"You never are, Hope."

"I've had to much human interaction this week, and had to deal with to many rude customers. I'm tired."

"And you are always tired. It's literally just a few hours, it isn't going to kill you."

The two stood still near a large oak tree, its heavy arms out stretched nearly hitting Merle on the head but the man didn't move. Hope had never really clicked with Merle's wife Mary or her family. Sure she was nice enough but there was just something about them that rubbed her the wrong way. She could never really pinpoint it there was just something, about them. Maybe it was because they were over religious (in her eyes), maybe she always felt a look of disapproval when she had come to talk to them. Of course, she had to play pretend when she saw them, all smiles chipper voice despite on the inside she felt like screaming and crawling into a hole. Hope took a deep breath and let it out slow,

"Ill go to the dinner."

"I don't want you there if you are gonna be all mad about it."

"I won't be."

Again the silence came, now it was Merle's turn to sigh and adjust his hat.

"Look I didn't come up here to fight with you, though you make it terribly hard not too. I came up here to see you again and to ask you something."

Hope turned slightly to him, she was waiting for this, she knew it was coming.

"Will you go with me to see dad?" his voice was soft and serious. "You know he will be out soon. Mom says shes been talking a lot to him lately, says hes changed, like a lot."

"That's what she's been saying. She's been calling me nearly every other day telling me that." Merle sighed putting his back to the tree facing away from Hope.

"I want to try to get the family together. Maybe things will be different now, it doesn't have to be perfect right away but at least we can try."

"He's said he would change before and he never has, why should this time be any different?" Hope said softly, trying again not to let her brother hear the tremble on her voice. Merle gave her a side glance and stuffed his hands into his black denim jacket, shrugging slightly.

"Supposedly he's got back into church or at least the ministry at the prison. Even his brother said he's changed, for the better. You know coming from Uncle Sean, that says a lot."

Hope look past the tree to the stones beyond out to the road. She felt a tightness in her chest and she wanted to scream and cry but she knew she had to keep it together. Crying in front of anyone but especially her brother, she just couldn't do. "When did you plan on going," she brought her eyes down studying her combat boots in the mud. " I have work, I would have to put in for it."

She could feel Merle's cold glare, " Probably a few days after he gets out. Give him some breathing room, maybe come down the following weekend. It would just be us, Uncle Sean and Aunt Em. That's it. " Hope again kicked the dirt.

"Give me a day and I'll put in for it, I guess." She didn't want to. Hope did not want to, with every fiber of her being she did not want to get dragged down there again but then their was that small part. That little part that whispered guilt and damnation if she didn't go and face her father again, her family again. Hope closed her eyes and adjusted her ponytail.

Merle again studied her, his lips pressed into a thin line. There was a silence between the two of them again with only the distant sound of a crow cawing and the hushing of the wind in the leaves of the tree. He eventually looked away and started his walk back towards the car, it had only been a meeting place after all, "Weren't you going to show me your apartment? I think it's going to rain soon anyway."

Hope leaned her head back and quietly prayed for the strength not to snap, immediately thinking the worst of her brother seeing her apartment and judging it. She took in another deep breath and let it out through her nose before turning around to catch up with him. "Yeah, wait up, Ill lead the way."

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

Heisenberg could feel the humidity in the air as he stepped out of the apartment building. He has been fixing one of the tenants pluming all day, then proceeded to get into a lengthy heated argument with Reddick on the phone. Now all he wanted to do was hide in his work shed, lock the door and not come out till midnight. Karl was already taking out a cigar and about to light it when the slamming of a car door grabbed his attention.

To his utter surprise it was Hope, though immediately seeing her rigid and the blank face, could tell something was wrong. He was going to walk towards her when suddenly a man appeared at her side. Karl felt something write in his stomach and he found himself concealing himself behind a large tree only ever peaking out around to watch them. The man was tall, lean, nearly like a scarecrow. He wore a serious expression, tussled black hair and seemed to walk with a purpose. Karl saw the man say something to Hope, but he couldn't hear, they were to far away. Hope remained blank face but walked towards the pathway that led to complex with her apartment. He saw her turn her head up to the man and respond but again Karl had no idea what they were talking about.

He didn't feel right, something felt wrong. He had never seen her body language like that and he had never seen this guy with her before. Heisenberg immediately felt annoyed and angry. Why? Heisenberg shook his head and started in the opposite direction of them back towards his workshop but then stopped. Maybe he should go check up on her? He could make up some excuse for coming up. "Could say there was problems with the plumbing in the apartment near by, that isn't technically a lie, and I just needed to see if her apartment doesnt have any damage. Yeah that could work."

Karl continued his walk back to the shed to grab his tools, so he could at least look the part. He adjusted his hat and threw on his coat again before heading back out. The Iron Lord didn't know why he was so bothered, it really wasn't any of his business. However, he didn't like the way Hope looked with him and that bothered him more than he would like to admit.

#karl heisenberg x oc #hope (oc)#Merle (oc)#rusted cages violet dreams #karl heisenberg #snippets #writing #re village #family drama #Joyce Family

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jakesimfromstatefarm · 3 years

Text

notoriously yours | jay park

✰ summary: jay park is a rich kid. it’s safe to say he has everything every broke college student on his campus could dream of and more. but the one thing he doesn’t have, which money definitely can’t buy, is a girlfriend. and his friends won’t see of it. literally.

so what happens when his friends bet him to date someone for more than three months? what happens when jay decides that fake-dating someone would be easier than actual dating (because god forbid Jay–the campus’ notoriously known fuckboy–decides to commit to something once in his life)?

and what happens when that someone is you, his childhood best friend he hasn’t spoken to in years..who has absolutely no interest in being in his life anymore?

✰ pairing: jay park x y/n [ft. members of enha]

✰ genre: fluff, comedy, angst | fakedating!au, college!au, childhoodbestfriends!au, (kinda) e2l!au

✰ warnings: cursing, nothing suggestive but jay's a fuckboy so slightly suggestive themes, mentions of parental neglect/leaving, it's hella long (and i thought my last fic was long)

✰ wc: 14.7k (how did i get it this long oh lord)

✰ author's note: picture creds go to original owners/editors! peep that edit of jay that lowkey inspired this entire fic 👀also this took me so, so long bc i lost motivation half way thru and bc college is a thing,,,so i honestly don't know how to feel abt it so pls bare with me :')))) ALSO the dividers are weird bc idk how to add more than 10 pics for the dividers so pls excuse those ٩(× ×)۶i hope u guys enjoy!! <333

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Jay Park is a rich kid.

Jay Park has enough to buy every textbook he needs for his courses without having to look up the free versions online. Jay Park has enough to bribe his professors to let him pass every class with a perfect 4.0 GPA (but because the boy has morals, he doesn't). Jay Park has enough to afford a car to drive to his furthest class from his dorm building instead of walk or bike like every other college student, meaning he also has enough to afford a parking spot on campus (those things aren't cheap!).

Jay Park walks around your school's campus like he owns the place (and considering the amount of money his family has donated to the school, he practically does), looking like he just walked out of your local coffee shop's newest fashion magazine. His blonde hair is never seen untouched, his attire usually consisting of an undoubtedly high-end all-black fit, accessorized with multiple earrings and rings that probably cost more than all the overpriced textbooks you had to rent out this semester. It's safe to say that everyone knows Jay Park.

Bottom line is, Jay Park has everything.

Well, his friends beg to differ.

In their eyes, Jay Park has everything but a simple factor in the equation of love (or whatever love is to the minds of a couple of 19 year olds): commitment.

So yes, it's safe to say that everyone knows Jay Park. Because everyone knows he's the campus' rich fuckboy. (What's a college fanfic campus without one anyways?)

Jay doesn't go unreminded of this by his friends, to the boy's annoyance.

Jay is aware of this on a Sunday afternoon, in his dorm building's first floor lounge, where he and his said friends are having a study session.

They're doing anything but studying.

In fact, no one has any books out or anything. Not a single laptop in site.

"You don't think it's the slightly bit concerning?" Jake's words are muffled as he continues munching on the fried chicken that he spent majority of this study session debating if he should have it delivered through UberEats or not.

"I really don't, no," Jay shrugs as he continues mindlessly scrolling through his Instagram feed. They're having the same argument conversation that they've revisited multiple times over the course of their friendship, one that Jay has been lectured on too many times for his own good. He thinks his friends could become his new parents if they really tried.

"Look at it this way, okay. You're about to graduate college in a couple of years, into the big world. Like the actual, adult world. And that means you'll have to settle down. Which you can't do when you. have. no. commitment!" Jake punctuates each word with a single clap of his hands, desperate to get his point across.

Jay simply rolls his eyes. He looks over to Sunghoon, who's minding his own business, not bothered by the same topic he's heard over and over again. His eyes tell Jay you're on your own, in response to his blonde-haired friend's look of despair.

Jay thinks that maybe he should get new friends. Yes, that's the only solution here.

"My love life," Jay reaches across the table for a drumstick from the greasy tub seated in Jake's lap until Jake swats his hand away, "is none of your business. Also, ouch."

"Uh, it kinda is. Because of you and your reputation around campus, it kinda affects us, your best friends. How do you think we look, hanging out with the guy who's known to ghost every girl in existence after one night with them? No offense to you," Jake deadpans to him. Jay mentally reconsiders the term best friends.

Tough love. Jay tells himself it's tough love.

"Yes, because every girl totally hates Jake Sim, the teacher assistant of a physics class who volunteers at the pet shelter every Sunday and brings their pet golden retriever to campus every two weeks," Jay rolls his eyes at his Australian friend.

Jake sighs. "Okay, then I'm coming from a place of worry for you."

Jay groans. "Again, none of your business!" This doesn't stop Jake. He comes from good intentions, really, but Jay wants nothing more than to stuff the kid's mouth with some of that chicken to shut him up.

"What are you gonna do if one day you meet someone you like, genuinely like, and you screw yourself over because you've never been in an actual relationship before? A real, committed one. Like one that lasts at least three months."

"You don't think I can last three months in a relationship?" Jay questions the boy currently taunting him.

"Honestly? No. What's the longest relationship you've been in?" Jake cocks an eyebrow at his friend across from him.

One month and two weeks. But Jay's smart enough to not say that out loud.

"I can so last over three months," Jay mutters more to himself than Jake.

Jake laughs at that, pausing to take another bite of the drumstick in his hand. "Jay, I am willing to actually bet you. Bet that you wouldn't be able to." He leans back on the couch, the ball now in Jay's court.

Jay freezes, looking up from his phone, narrowing his eyes at Jake.

"Forget it, Jake. He's not gonna agree even if you offered him money," Sunghoon finally perches from beside him. Well he's not wrong. It's not like Jay is exactly in need of more money, per say.

"What kind of bet are we talking here?"

Sunghoon's right. Jay doesn't need the money, but he does hate being wrong. Even if it's over something as stupid as this matter.

Caught off guard by the blonde's answer, Jake blinks blankly at him and takes a second to think.

"Hmm..what about...what about if you can date someone for at least three months, and I mean an actual, committed relationship, then I'll do all of your physics homework next semester."

Jay's eyes sparkle at that. If there's anything he despises more than commitment, it's physics.

"And if I win, you have to buy all of my textbooks," Jake sits back from the edge of his seat with a smirk lying on his face.

Jay pauses to think about it. I mean, what does he have to lose? A couple hundred dollars over college textbooks? No. Because he just simply won't lose.

And maybe he'll learn what it'll be like to actually be in a committed relationship for once. Maybe he'll finally learn what it's like to actually devote yourself to someone, open up to them. He shivers at the thought. Never mind. He'll warm up to it. Baby steps.

Nonetheless, what could go wrong? Even if he does lose, at least his money would be going somewhere productive––towards his friend's education. Jay was probably gonna use that money on something useless like a blanket that resembles a tortilla (a burrito blanket, he calls it)––something he doesn't necessarily need, but must have, he would argue.

"Fine. Whatever, okay. Deal," he grabs Jake's extended hand in front of him and shakes on it.

Jake's impressively smiling at the boy as Sunghoon lets out a sigh, in disbelief with the two guys he calls his best friends.

Jay concludes that this will be easier than his Introduction to Photography 101 course he took his freshman year. How hard is it to find someone to date the Jay Park? Surely, everyone will be lining up once Jay switches his FaceBook relationship status from "it's complicated" to "single".

Turns out, it's not as easy as his class where all Jay had to do was take pictures of a pretty sunset, slap a VSCO filter on, and call it a day.

He comes to this realization on a Wednesday evening, as he's seated at one of the many study tables lined in the middle of the campus' library, staring down at his phone's dry iMessage app, with his laptop and blank sheets of scratch paper scrambled across the entire table, as an attempt to look half as studious as the other students studying in the facility.

Turns out, being known as the campus' fuckboy who ghosts every girl on campus isn't a good thing when it comes to wanting to find a real relationship.

He comes to this realization after failing to receive a single text back to the many ones he sent out throughout the first half of his day. The ghoster gets ghosted. Oh how the turn tables.

Jay groans dramatically as he tosses his phone on the hard surface of the table, earning himself a harsh shush from the librarian filing books in the aisle beside him.

He sheepishly smiles back as an apology, directing his attention back to his open laptop screen, where his untouched calculus homework stares back at him––his mind preoccupied with the looming threat of Jake's bet. Not that it was threatening in any way, per say, but Jay just hates losing. And from the looks of things, it's safe to say that Jay won't be celebrating any victories anytime soon.

Jay thinks he should just change his identity and just transfer to some boarding school in Switzerland. Yes, that's a much better solution than admitting defeat to Jake.

Jay sighs as he lies his head on the table, figuring he might as well just write the check for Jake's textbooks now. He wonders how he got here in the first place. Not how he got into the bet, and definitely not how he's sitting in the middle of the library, having yet to start his calculus homework due at 11:59PM tonight (he should really start that).

But no, he wonders how he gained the reputation as the campus' playboy. To be fair, his friends (mainly Jake), are constantly reminding him of his notorious habits. But how did they come a habit in the first place?

The idea of being in a relationship is nice, sure, but the commitment that comes with it? The idea of being dependent on someone? It's scary, vulnerable, and one that Jay can't picture for himself.

Maybe some people just aren't meant to be paired. Maybe some people, like Jay, like being independent and are meant to stay that way.

But Jay also likes affection. He likes the fleeting, warm feeling he gets every time he finds himself under someone's sheets. He likes the short-lived comfort he receives from someone else's touch, even though he knows it's going to cease to exist the second he steps out of those bedroom's doors. He just likes affection, simple as that.

That and he's a 19 year old teenage boy with needs, what did you expect?

And so what if he likes the idea of affection minus commitment? Is that so bad? Apparently it is, to people like his friends and the entirety of his school's campus, at least.

At this rate, he might as well pay someone to date him.

Wait. Jay lifts his head off the table's surface in realization.

He might as well pay someone to date him.

There's no harm in that, is there?

He wouldn't have to endure through an endless amount of dates to find someone he clicks with, then continue going on dates with said clicked person, all while trying to develop an actual, serious relationship.

He'll win the bet, get his physics homework done for an entire semester, and some lucky girl out there will be making profit for the small price of hanging out with Jay Park for three months.

And lucky for him, Jay knows the perfect candidate for this scheme.

Simple as that.

Just as long as said perfect candidate says yes.

And as long as Jake and Sunghoon don't find out. Or else Jay might really have to move to Switzerland after all.

You love your friends, you do.

Hana and Heeseung have been there for you when others haven't––they were by your side when you knew no one entering high school, and they were still by your side when you were all graduating said high school. Needless to say, you're eternally grateful for friends like them.

But right now, in this moment––with you seated in the middle of the campus' library, trying to write your essay, as your two friends blabber on and on about the most recent gossip across from you––your two friends could be your villain origin story.

But again, you love your friends, you do. So you don't have the heart to tell them to leave. You've managed to naturally tune out most of the conversation, anyways, for this––your friends coming to hang out while you're trying to study––is no rare occurrence by any means.

"Oh yeah, Jay Park texted me last night."

You hate how your brain's filter suddenly turns off at Hana's words.

You hate how your ears catch the sudden mention of Jay Park's name.

You hate how the thought of Jay Park gets to even occupy a single brain cell of yours.

You hate how you even know who Jay Park is. Well, knew.

Past tense. Because up until eighth grade––when Jay decided to just suddenly pretend you didn't exist––he was attached to you like a koala to a eucalyptus tree.

And if you had asked past Y/N, ideally, Jay would've never left your side. Ideally, he would've never left you to fend for yourself when entering high school. Ideally, he would've stayed your best friend through out all four years of high school and ideally, you would've eventually told him how you really felt about him after growing up with him all your life. And maybe it would've lead to a completely different story. But for the sake of this fic, we don't live in an ideal world.

So yes, if it wasn't for his attendance at the very same university as you, you would've forgotten about the boy who brought you the painful memories of your childhood.

And since the universe clearly doesn't work in your favor, avoiding Jay Park's existence like he's the plague would have to suffice. And it works.

For the most part.

Until some people, bring him up uninvited into your conversation. Like now, for example.

"When was the last time you guys talked anyways?" Heeseung mindlessly asks as he reaches across the table to grab one of the many snacks you usually bring to your study sessions.

"Uh..like a few weeks ago. Give or take. Whenever you threw your house party. Can't say there was much talking involved however," she teasingly says with a giggle and wiggle of her brows.

Heeseung's rolling his eyes as you scoff and chuck a nearby crumpled piece of paper that was once one of your many essay drafts at her.

She bats it away right as it's about to hit her face as she laughs. "Doesn't matter anyways. He ghosted me the next morning, as he does with everyone else. Telling you this now," she extends a finger right at you, "stay away from Jay Park. That kid's just bad news."

You nod in response, mentally telling her she has nothing to worry about.

Been there, done that.

College. Ah yes, the very concept of spending four years of your life imprisoned on a campus where you'll be tearing your hair out from stress and spending all your life's savings just for a laminated sheet of paper with a golden stamp at the end of it all. We live in a society.

Because of said college, and all the weight that comes along with it, you had adapted a strict daily schedule in order to not completely lose your mind. It's a simple schedule really, one of a typical college student who's just trying to get by everyday with as little mental breakdowns as possible.

Wake up, get ready, go to class, go to the library to do your homework, walk all the way across campus to get back to your dorm, shower, then sleep. Oh and eat, of course. And maybe if time permits, be an actual social being and socialize.

It's gotten you this far into the college life without dropping out so, you conclude, you must be doing something right.

Sometimes, if you're feeling nice to yourself, you'll tweak the schedule a bit to fit in some exceptions. Maybe squeeze in a little trip to the bubble tea shop that's on the other side of campus, or maybe get dinner at that one dining hall that you don't usually go to because of the unncessarily long lines (but because they serve ice cream, you go anyways). It doesn't matter what the exception is, you still plan it out to fit into your schedule somehow. Everything is planned out.

Sometimes, however, the universe disagrees with your schedule, to your demise. Such as today, for example.

Because what you didn't expect for today was for a particular blonde-haired boy who you haven't spoken to in almost six years (but who's counting?) to approach your table in the library––a table you were sure no one could find you at, as it was quietly tucked away in the back corner, right next to the Astrophysics shelves. Because who browses the Astrophysics aisle for fun? Actually, maybe Jake Sim would. Anyways.

You definitely didn't anticipate a visit from the boy you've been actively avoiding, so you definitely didn't expect the first words coming out of his mouth when he sees you for the first time in six years to be:

"Fake date me."

You blink up at him.

Yeah, definitely not expected.

But you only let it phase you for a split second, until you feel a slight annoyance beginning to bubble up deep inside of you.

"Wow, hello to you too Jay! It's been what––half a decade? Yeah I've been pretty good, thanks for asking!" The sarcasm is practically dripping off your tongue.

You don't know what runs through Jay's mind, but apparently it isn't common sense––or the ability to read the room. Because next thing you know, he's sliding the chair across from you out from underneath the table and making himself at home.

And he's smiling right at you.

Curse him and his smile.

But no, you're not giving into it.

Not yet, at least.

"What do you want?" You deadpan at him when he makes no sign of making the next move.

"A girlfriend," he deadpans right back at you, as if he was casually telling you what he wanted for dinner. As if you two were close-knit friends that could approach one another without any proper greeting. As if you two had kept your friendship all these years. As if you two even had a role in each other's lives.

"Can't help you there," you scoff, deciding to not even question his lack of manners on top of his uninvited presence.

"Aren't you gonna ask me why?"

"Well gee, seeing that the first few words you decided to say to my face for the first time in forever were a demand, a demand to date you no less, then....no," your monotone voice says as you keep your eyes focused on your laptop screen, not daring to look at the boy across from you.

In the Introduction to Sociology course you took your freshmen year, you had learned of one important term: interactional vandalism. Textbook definition being: "ignoring signals of disinterest in a conversation, leading it to an offense."

Your definition being: "are you oblivious or just plan dumb, read the room!"

This was interactional vandalism, alright. Whether Jay's truly oblivious or just trying to annoy you until your head explodes (it's really the former, but you're convinced it's the latter), he takes your signals of disinterest and tosses it right out of his head to continue the conversation.

"I'm stuck in this stupid bet with Jake--do you remember him? He bet me that I couldn't date someone for more than three months and I figured having someone fake date me would be easier than actually dating someone, right? That's where you come into the equation," he proposes as he leans back in his chair, as if he had just finished a sales pitch to a prospective customer looking to buy a car.

You couldn't believe this. You're 98% sure this has got to be a prank. You're mentally preparing for a camera crew to jump out from in-between the library's aisles any moment now and scream into your ears that you've just been punk'd!

The remaining 2% of you, however, wouldn't put it past the two boys to get themselves in such a situation. The last memory you had of Jay and his friends were pretty much their childish selves back in middle school. And by looking at the current scene unfolding in front of you...it's needless to say they haven't changed much.

"Again, can't help you there. Ask one of the many girlfriends I thought you had." Ouch.

"But Y/N, you've known me all your life--"

"Up until you dropped me a few years ago but sure, let's call it that."

"--and convincing other people is gonna make me look--"

"--desperate? Yeah."

"C'mon, Y/N. What do you have to lose anyways?"

"Uh..my dignity? Pride? Self-respect? Sorry Jay, not happening," you turn your attention back to your unwritten essay in front of you, mentally checking out of this conversation. This would be a good time for that camera crew to jump out now.

"Look, no one else is gonna do it, Y/N." Jay has always been stubborn, you suppose. But so are you.

"Yeah, because you've managed to push every being of the opposite gender away from you. You gave yourself this reputation in the first place," you give it to him straight. It's not like you had a relationship with him to uphold anyways––Jay himself broke that friendship years ago.

Jay hates that you're right.

You're always right. He remembers how he used to always go to you for advice and clarity on the world's biggest problems. Granted, the world's biggest problems to him at the time equated to what he should dress up as for the fifth grade Halloween party, but still. A tough decision, for the mind of a ten-year-old.

You abruptly stop typing and begin putting your laptop and textbooks away as you huff in frustration. There's no point in trying to get your work done now. The longer you stay arguing with Jay, the bigger your headache gets. The longer he continues to occupy any part of your brain, the bigger your headache gets.

Getting up from your seat, packed and ready to slam your head into your pillow, you turn to the blonde one last time.

"Look Jay. We went on our separate ways years ago. If you weren't so notoriously known around campus and my friends would stop talking about you, I would've long forgotten you. I'm sorry you're in this situation, really. If I were you, I'd just tell Jake I can't do it. Or don't, I can't tell you what to do. Just don't get some innocent girl involved in whatever stunt of yours this is."

Jay stares at you, mouth agape, as you find your way out of the library and through the main doors. By the time he comes back to his senses, he realizes how he looks plain stupid––standing in the middle of the library, the look on his face screaming befuddlement, to say the least. Jay quickly makes his way out of the building, in hopes of convincing you one last time.

Jay catches sight of your figure already half-way down the walkway that connects the library to the main quad of your school's campus. Geez, you walk fast.

Not fast enough to outrun Jay's legs, however. If Jay running after you through the middle of campus in order to convince you to fake date him doesn't show how desperate he is to win this bet, I don't know what will.

"Wait, Y/N!"

You groan to yourself before turning to face the boy who can't seem to take a hint and leave you alone. You stare at his out-of-breath state as he heaves up and down from the slight jog he had to endure to get to where you are. If you're humored by him chasing after you, you do a good job of hiding it.

He meets your unimpressed state before stating his final proposition: "I'll pay you. Five hundred dollars."

You nearly stop breathing.

Now this catches your attention––after all, you're but a broke college student who's just trying to survive. And preferably not by feeding yourself instant ramen cups every night.

And so, naturally, you begin rethinking about the opportunity presented in front of you. You narrow your eyes at the boy as you weigh your options.

The first problem being, it's Jay Park––the bane of your very existence. You spent the last few years of your life pretending he didn't exist...for good reason. Not only did he do you dirty when you were merely a couple of 13-year-olds, but you just didn't want to be involved with someone like him. Someone known for his nature, someone who left your own current best friend ghosted. And not that Hana herself would care, for she has called herself the "female Jay Park", but you're sure this would be breaking some rule in the girl code handbook. Plus, if you agree to this, you'd be betraying 13-year-old Y/N, the one who decided to never speak to nor think of Jay Park again––which by now you've failed, but you get the gist.

Second problem being, three months is a long time. Three months is practically the rest of this semester, and did you really want to spend the rest of the semester tied down to the label of being Jay Park's girlfriend? There would have to be some negative connotations that came along with that title, right? No offense to Jay, but being his first girlfriend since, what, high school could make you come off as..naive, for lack of a better term. As if the only person you could settle for was Jay Park. As if you barely had any standards for yourself. Again, no offense to Jay.

Needless to say, if your school's debate club had to argue on why you shouldn't be doing this, you're sure the negating side could win with these two reasons alone.

But before you're rejecting the boy currently standing in front of you one last time, you find yourself mentally listing rebuttals.

First of all, you'd be getting paid. And again, you're merely but a college student living the stereotypical broke college student life––burdened by the costs of tuition, textbooks, and midnight McDonalds runs for when you're out of aforementioned instant ramen cups. Five hundred dollars could provide you with more than enough chicken McNuggets to last you the semester, and maybe some more to treat yourself to an online shopping spree.

Second of all, it's not like you were going to do anything better with your next three months anyways. It's safe to say you were too busy being a diligent student to actually look for anyone to date, per say. And if anything, having a fake boyfriend might actually be helpful in your case. Your mom would be off your ass about how you're still single, for one. And two, your friends (though it's really just Heeseung) would stop trying to hook you up on blind dates with guys that you would choose Jay Park over any day (and that really says something).

Third of all, it's Jay Park. As much as you despise the kid, you still know him. He's not a complete stranger to you, no matter how much you try to deny it. It could be worse, it could be a complete rando asking you to date him. At least you two have some sort of history, which would take care of the typical small talk and getting to know each other bit of this equation. And truth be told, you'd be lying to yourself if you said you weren't a tad bit satisfied by the fact that Jay chose you, of all people, to pull off this stunt with him. You don't know if it's the nostalgia of your childhood memories rushing back to you, but it reminds you of the endless schemes you two used to plan behind your parents' backs all the time. Granted, your childhood schemes––such as the both of you faking sickness so you could skip school together––don't even fall close to being in a fake relationship with one another, but still. It's the thought that counts.

All of those reasons plus, Jay isn't the worst to look at. He may have a spoiled reputation, but at least he has his looks going for him, you'll give him that (you're still secretly wondering when and how did he get his glow up, but don't tell him that).

And so by the guidelines of a college student's logic that states the pros outweigh the cons, you come to the overarching conclusion that maybe, this won't be so awful after all.

"Five hundred?" You ask, just for clarification. Jay's immediately nodding at your words. You continue to ponder on your thoughts as he stares at you hopefully.

The silent atmosphere of your campus heightens the tension so much, you swear you're in one of those overdramatic pausing scenes that occur too many times in k-dramas.

You sigh, then nod.

"Okay," you're internally praying that you won't regret this decision. "I'm in."

The next time you see Jay is at 12:17PM on a Friday afternoon, as you're exiting the doors of the lecture building that's home to your awfully long Capitalism in the Western World class.

You're going down the steps of the building, mentally deciding where and what you're going to treat yourself to for lunch––as the three hour lecture you had just attended drained all the life and energy out of you––when you hear the slight call of your name.

Turning to the source, you're met with a waving Jay, leaning against the passenger's side of his car, parked in front of the lecture hall building you were currently leaving.

Great.

You walk over to where he's casually waiting––he's unaware of all the stares he's attracted from fellow students leaving the same lecture as you. Can you blame them? It's not everyday you see a sleek, black BMW that probably cost more than your tuition pull up in front of your Friday afternoon lecture. It's not everyday you see Jay Park waiting for anyone outside of his said sleek, black BMW that probably cost more than your tuition.

"Hi," you simply let out as you plant yourself in front of him, not sure whether or not to question him why are you here? Surely, he wasn't waiting for you?

"Hi," he smiles down at you. There's a beat of silence. "I was waiting for you."

Bingo.

"Oh. What are you, my chauffeur?" You raise an eyebrow, unimpressed.

"Maybe. I am your boyfriend, after all," he says into the air, loud and clear, as if he wanted people to hear. Well that is the point, you suppose.

But still, all you want to do is smack the smirk right off his face.

Before you have time to put your next question into words, he answers it for you.

"I'm taking you out for lunch," he declares as if you have nothing else planned for the day. Well, to be fair, you didn't have anything else planned for the day. Except for your usual library run. But you figure the library could wait.

"Oh, like on a date?" You raise your eyebrows teasingly at him as you get into the car, Jay holding the door wide open for you. "Is Jay Park treating me to lunch as a date?"

Jay fights the scowl (or is that a smile?) growing on his face as he bends down to meet your eye level from inside the car. "Don't flatter yourself, princess. We've got fake lives to live."

"Call me princess one more time and you won't have a real life to live," you flash him a sarcastic smile and slam the door in his face.

Jay meets his own shocked reflection on the passenger's side window.

Cute.

"When you said you were taking me out to lunch, I expected like...I don't know...the diner on campus. Not whatever this is," you mutter to Jay as the two of you are brought to your table by a waitress at an upscale sushi restaurant, one that is undoubtedly out of your usual budget, but for sure an upgrade from your dining hall's pizza you were planning to have. You should've figured as much, the drive here was a little more than out of the way from campus, and who are you kidding, it's Jay Park you're eating with.

You stare down at your current outfit, which consisted of a hoodie you've owned since your junior year of high school and leggings that you threw on without second thought this morning––because you didn't exactly wake up and decide I'm going to go to a fancy sushi bar for lunch today!

"Why are we here anyways?" You ask him when you're both settled in your seats and the waitress walks away after listing the chef's specials for the day.

"Oh, they have killer dragon rolls here, you have to try it," Jay tells you nonchalantly as his eyes rake the menu in front of him, blocking your view of him.

How dense can one be? Your hand snatches his menu as you stare into his unamused eyes.

"No, Jay. I mean, why are we here? It's not like anyone's around to see us put on a show anyways."

"Oh. I figured," Jay's quick to grab the menu back from out of your hands as he continues, "that we should sit down and establish how exactly we're going to deliver this performance. After all, you're stuck with me for the next three months."

Again, smacking the smirk currently resting on his face would satisfy you beyond relief. Just once.

"If I drop out halfway through, do I still get $250?" You tease, leaning back.

"Ha ha. Funny. No," he narrows his eyes at you from across the table. "It's all or nothing."

You dramatically huff to make a show just for his annoyance.

"Worth a try. But sure, let's solidify this. What's the game plan?" You sit up in your seat, leaning over the table as if the two of you were hosting a secret meeting.

"It's simple really," Jay mirrors your actions, face leaning in close to where yours is hovering over the table. "Just pretend to be deeply in love with me for three months, and try not to actually be charmed by my cunning looks."

If someone gave you five dollars for every time you've already rolled your eyes at him today, you wouldn't even need to be in this deal for the five hundred dollars.

"Wow, smooth. Can I just remind you you're the one paying a girl to be in a fake relationship with you because you're just not competent enough to find an actual girlfriend?" You lean back, arms crossing over your figure.

Jay, unfazed, laughs, tongue briefly hitting the inside of his cheek. "Touché."

Your eyes go back to the menu in front of you as a silence falls over the table. Because you're not a loaded trust fund baby who comes to fancy five-star sushi restaurants for lunch on a daily, you don't recognize half of the entree names on the menu. You spot the dragon roll Jay suggested, but seeing that a basic California roll is less expensive, your natural broke-college-student-instincts figure the California roll shall do.

"Okay, in all seriousness," Jay begins as he puts his menu down. "It's simple really. We'll just go on weekly dates and post cute pictures of each other once in a while and a little after three months, I'll just say it didn't work out. I'll give you the five hundo and boom, we move on with our lives."

It's clear Jay's put some thought into this. Safe to say he's put more effort planning this out than the amount of work he's been putting into his classes. Someone's got their priorities straight.

You're impressed to say the least––you figured Jay would just be the kind to go with the flow and wait for the situation to unfold on its own and maybe blow up into flames. But seeing as he was just as serious about winning this bet as you were with making five hundred dollars, your doubts about this entire situation were slowly withering away.

Don't get it wrong, though, you still despise him. To an extent, at least.

"And don't worry about the dates. I'll pay on your behalf, as the loving, doting boyfriend I am," Jay finishes with a wide, cheesy smile you can't help but return a growing smile back at.

"Well then, as the loving, doting girlfriend I am, I shall gift you coffee, breakfast, all that fun couple stuff, whenever you please. Or maybe unannounced, if I'm feeling nice," you figure you should pitch in as much if he's paying for all your dates. And deep down, you find the idea kinda cute. But don't tell anyone that.

"Wow, look at us. We should become Dispatch's couple of the year already!" Jay exclaims, earning himself a small giggle from you, which pleases him to say the least. He thinks that maybe when this is all over, he'll hopefully make a good friend (well, for the second time) out of it.

And you're thinking that maybe the next three months won't be as bad as you initially had thought.

As the two of you delve deep into a debate about who would be the better significant other to each other, the waitress comes over to take your orders.

And because you're laughing and Jay's brightly smiling at you from across the table, you order the dragon roll.

The second time Jay takes you out––this time he gives you a heads up to get ready––it's at a, once again, high-class steakhouse.

The third time, you insist on the on-campus diner that's popular amongst the student population. Partially because you feel bad for the amount of money he's spent on you (even though he couldn't care less), but mostly because if you have to put on another fancy dress to just eat an overpriced meal that doesn't even fully satisfy your hunger, you might lose your mind.

And by this third time, Jake is aware of this newly blossomed relationship.

"Three dates! I didn't know you had it in you, going on three dates with the same girl!" Jake excitedly exclaims as he jumps into the empty spot on Jay's dorm bed and shoves his phone's screen into Jay's face.

The smaller screen displays Jay's most recent Instagram post: an image of you sitting behind your too-small-to-be-this-expensive-steak and smiling right into Jay's camera––a memory that brings a smile to his face:

~ ~ ~

"C'mon! We said Instagram posts would be a part of the deal! How else can we convince people we're dating?" A pout rests on Jay's face as he stares at you from across the table in the middle of the extravagantly decorated restaurant he picked out for your second date. You remember your eyes bulging out of their own sockets when you saw the "$$$$$" rating Yelp gave the place when you searched it up earlier.

"Okay, okay! One picture," you give in, already slightly annoyed that you were here instead of the comfort of your own bed, where you could be rewatching your favorite Netflix show for the third time. But because you made a deal and because you're desperate for money, you had to follow through––so here you were.

You flash an unconvincing smile to Jay's camera, which doesn't satisfy him, to say the least. "At least pretend you're somewhat enjoying this date," he frowns at you.

You sigh, until a thought crosses your mind and a smile grows on your face. "Only if you get me boba afterwards."

He narrows his eyes at you, but then meets your smile. "Sure, whatever you want. But only because I've been craving some mango milk tea lately."

"You're a fruit milk tea kind of guy? Sorry, but I might have to fake break-up with you," you tease as you take a sip of your overpriced drink to go with your overpriced meal.

Jay scoffs, feigning hurt by placing his hand over his heart. "Ouch. But before you break up with me, let me get this Instagram post in."

"Wow. Your priorities are so straight," you roll your eyes at him, eliciting a cheeky smile from him as he watches you through his held up phone screen.

"3,2,1."

"Hey, I wasn't ready! That was like mid-laugh!" You reach over the table to grab the phone, but not quick enough for him to put his phone back into his pants' pocket.

"Nope, nuh uh," he laughs as you quickly sit back down into your seat, not wanting to cause a scene in an establishment as proper as this one.

"It's fine. It's a good picture, you look cute," he casually lets out, unaware of the blush rising to the surface of your cheeks, thanks to the fact that you were suddenly interested in playing with the left-over food on your plate.

"Jay! Delete it, I'll let you take another one," you whine from your seat, imagining just how bad a candid picture of you could be.

"Ugh, fine. Ever so picky." He playfully rolls his eyes at you as he takes his phone out and opens the camera app as you prepare yourself.

"Okay, how's this?" Jay turns the phone screen to you after he takes a few snaps on his phone.

"I approve," you grin at him as he goes through the pictures himself, unaware of the smile growing on his face.

"Okay now delete the first one," you point your finger at him, narrowing your eyes at him.

"Okay, okay! Bossy," he laughs as he raises in hands in surrender.

When Jay gets home that night, he recovers the image from his Recently Deleted folder, telling himself it's for the sake of the memory.

Obviously.

~ ~ ~

"It's not that big of a deal," Jay mutters from his spot as his eyes go from the Instagram post to his Exile and Belonging in Modern Literature reading that's due tomorrow, bright yellow highlighter in hand. Typically, you'd find the reading buried deep at the bottom of his school backpack. But because Jay ran into you this morning and because he complained to you about the amount of work he's fallen behind on and because you had threatened him to do his work or else you're not going on another date––a fake date that is––with him, he figured he should at least get one reading done and annotated, despite his strong dislike for highlighters (they hurt his eyes, okay?)

What he doesn't know, however, is how your threat was completely full of bluff––but don't tell him that.

"It is so a big deal, for you at least!" Jake hops off the bed and lands on the wooden floors of Jay's dorm room so hard, Jay winces and sends a mental apology to the poor person who lives below him.

Jake suddenly gasps. "I have to meet her, Jay! As your best friend, it's practically mandatory that I meet her."

Jay opens his mouth to protest, but not before Jake interrupts him once again. "Oh! We can bring Sunghoon too, it'll be so fun! The best friends meet the girlfriend."

Jay can't think of anything worst. Jay imagines that bringing you to meet his best friends would just intimidate you out of dating him––fake dating him, that is. Obviously.

He stares at his friend in agony then back at the reading in front of him––the one Jake said he'd come over to help annotate, but the intention completely left Jake's head the second he heard about Jay's recent dating life.

"You don't have to meet her," Jay says pointedly. "Plus, you already know her."

Jake frowns at his friend's excuse. "Yeah, but that was in middle school! This is different."

Jay's hands shuffle through the reading's pages in front of him as he realizes there's no way the two of them are going to finish the assignment at this point. He supposes he'll have to save death by blindness from highlighters for another day and hope you still agree to go out with him.

Jake suddenly gasps in realization.

"Oh my gosh! Childhood best friends turned college sweethearts," Jake says so dreamily, he might as well plaster heart eyes on. Hopeless romantic, this one.

Before Jay can argue, the piercing sound of three loud knocks echo through the small room, followed with a:

"Jay, are you in? It's me!"

Jay stills at the sound of your sweet voice. He whips his head to Jake, who is also frozen in place.

But the widened-eye boy is quick to come to his senses––unfortunately quicker than Jay himself––because the next thing Jay knows, Jake's eyes are lighting up and he's running to the door, ignoring Jay's screaming whispers through this seething teeth that were somewhere along the lines of Jake––stop, I swear to god if you open that door I'm gonna fucking--

"Y/N!" Jake swings the door wide open, revealing an overly excited him and a frozen Jay half-way to the door, as if he was about to grab the very boy welcoming you in. It's as if we're living in a Sims game and the player clicked pause on this very moment.

Jake's eyes are wildly going back and forth between you and your supposed boyfriend, as if he was waiting for Jay to run over and smother you in hugs and kisses...or something couple-y like that. Jay wouldn't know.

"Uh––hi," you're awkwardly standing inside the room now, a relatively large paper brown bag resting in your palms as you look around for a surface to place it on. Jay makes his way to you without a second thought, quickly taking the bag out of your hold.

"You seemed stressed out earlier, so I figured I could bring you some food as a little pick me up. I didn't know what you liked, so I kinda just got a little of everything from the dining hall. Nothing fancy," you're rambling, but smiling so excitedly at him, Jay doesn't know what to say.

Instead, his mouth slightly drops open as he stares at you in awe, mostly because he's not used to being on the receiving end of such spontaneously generous actions––all while Jake's still excitedly looking back and forth between the two of you, as if he was expecting a marriage proposal to come next.

"Oh wow. Thank you. Really," Jay, still touched by your simple act of kindness, softly says as he places the bag on the limited amount of empty space on his desk surface––the rest of it is covered with his untouched textbooks and unfinished assignments. He wonders if you did this out of playing your role or just because you wanted to. He internally hopes it's the latter. "Seriously, you didn't have to do."

"Nah, don't worry. I wanted to," you shrug with such a genuine smile that Jay realizes he actually missed your smile.

Despite having seen you during your brief run-in this morning when you were fetching your morning coffee, Jay realizes he missed you. The two of you haven't been seeing each other recently because of your busy schedule and if Jay didn't realize it before, he's now sure he missed your company and presence around.

Weird.

"Well, you two have fun! Sunghoon needs me for something," Jake suddenly chirps from his place near the front door, halfway through with putting his shoes on already, breaking the comforting silence that fell between the two of you.

Jay frowns. "But you said you were free all da––"

"SUNGHOON IS CALLING BYE!" And before Jay can even register what's happening, Jake's out the door without another word.

"Er..sorry about him, he's...weird," Jay scratches the back of his neck as he returns to his spot on his bed, mentally setting a reminder to yell at Jake later for leaving the two of you alone. Jay doesn't know exactly why, but he's nervous at the fact that you're here in his room. It's not like you two are complete strangers––or whatever you guys were before––anymore. "Good job on your part, though. How'd you know Jake was here?"

"Oh uh, I didn't"," you let out an awkward laugh. "I just felt like doing it."

Heat rushes to Jay's cheeks and he's not sure 1) what this newfound feeling is and 2) how to respond, yet again.

Having expecting you to leave after dropping the food off, Jay's taken by surprise when you take your shoes off and come over to his bed to look at the pile of work he's spread out.

"Is this everything you have to do?" You question the stressed-out boy as you flip through the various assignments, readings, and essays he put off in the past week.

"More or less," he groans. This is no rare occurrence by any means––Jay being behind in his work––but this time, Jay realizes he may actually be in deep shit, considering he has no idea where to begin.

Right as Jay's expecting a scolding from you, he looks up to meet a look of sympathy on your face. "Well, I mean, I'm pretty much done with my day. I can try to help, I recognize some of these readings from last semester."

Jay thinks to himself that the universe has sent him an angel through the form of you.

"Really? Wow, you were't kidding when you said you'd be a good girlfriend," he sends you a surprised look.

"I'm just being nice, Jay. A concept I'm sure you're not familiar with," you remark back at him, causing his forming smile to grow into a laugh.

"I can too be nice! Need I remind you of who's paying you $500, covering all of our dates AND giving you rides to class everyday?" He remarks pointedly at you, a teasing look resting in his eyes as you're reminded of the first of many times he's come to pick you up before class:

~ ~ ~

You're late.

This never happens.

But then again, your life's been a series of unexpected occurrences lately. Such as the fact that you're currently known as Jay Park's girlfriend, for one.

You're scrambling out of bed once you take one look at your phone and realize shit, you're already late for class. Throwing on whatever articles of clothing your eyes land on first, you're already mentally groaning at the fact that you'll have to skip breakfast and run across your campus to get to said class.

Curse your professor for hosting her lecture at the furthest possible building away from your dorm. Curse the architect who decided to make your campus so large.

You're running down the steps outside of your dorm building's doors when you're abruptly stopped by a familiar sounding cough. You look up from trying to gather all your belongings together at once to meet the gaze of the source of the sound––Jay.

"Wow, you're a mess," he smirks as he gets up from the spot on his car he was leaning against to make his way over to you.

"Gee, thanks! Good morning to you too," you flash him a sarcastic smile before your default frown quickly makes it way back onto your face.

"Aren't you gonna ask me why I'm here?" He grins as he grabs hold of your backpack to sling it across his own back as the two of you walk towards his car.

"Why are you here, Jay?" you sigh, your sarcastic tone hard to miss.

"To give you a ride to class, of course!" He's beaming at you, as if he's a pre-pubescent teen who just won their first girlfriend a prize from the arcade's claw machine.

Oh. That explains the car, you figure. Deep down inside, you're relieved that you'll no longer be bursting through the lecture hall's doors as a sweaty mess––a result of having to run across campus to get to class.

Determined to not let your satisfaction completely show, you resort with a little smile directed towards Jay as he opens the passenger door for you.

The second your enter Jay's car, the strong scent of coffee hits you, and your attention is targeted at the two small cups of coffee sitting in the cupholders of the car.

"Breakfast?" Jay asks as he enters through the driver's side and reaches into the backseat to whip out a small pastry bag. A small, deliciously smelling, pastry bag.

Okay, well. You suppose you could drop the annoyed act now.

Your eyes widen with joy as you grab the bag from him and open it to reveal your favorite breakfast sandwich. He's been taking notes, you'll give him that point.

"Okay, you win. Thank you," you grace him with a soft smile before taking a bite into the glorious gift in your hands.

"Of course, I was just feeling nice," he grins at you as he starts his car. "But don't get used to it." His tone is serious, but his smile directed towards you says differently.

And the fact that he still showed up to drive you to class the next morning.

And the next.

~ ~ ~

"And need I remind you who has to date your dumb ass for the $500 in question?" Your eyes narrow at the boy who can't seem to get that damn smile off his face.

Jay sticks his tongue out at you, ending the conversation. Really Jay? What are you, five? Well, mentally––probably.

You're looking around his minuscule dorm room for a place to sit down, and Jay can't help but feel embarrassed now that you're here, in his messy single studio room that pretty much reflects how Jay treats every other responsibility of his oh so hard life: neglected.

"Uh...here, you can sit on my bed," Jay immediately offers as he moves to the side to make room for your presence––and it isn't much, considering the university only provided him a twin XL bed which is definitely not built for two grown college-aged kids.

If you told yourself a few weeks ago that you'd be shoulder to shoulder on a bed belonging to the guy you cringed at the very thought of, you wouldn't have believed yourself. You wouldn't have believed yourself if you said you were actually glad Jay let you stay instead of kicking you out after delivering the food. Huh.

Weird.

"You know, this kinda reminds me of when we were kids. I always carried us through those horrible multiplication tests in the fifth grade," you wink at him as you settle in the spot next to him, hands grabbing hold of the papers in his lap.

Jay let out a laugh, nudging your shoulder with his. "Hey! The twelve times table is hard, okay?"

You roll your eyes at him––a habit of yours he's noticed whenever the two of you are together, but more recently, he thinks it's been more out of fun than annoyance.

He wonders why.

When Jay had first brought up the idea of bringing you as his date to his father's company dinner, you had expected a fairly fancy five-star restaurant with a formal dress code––for you've become accustomed to Jay's lifestyle. Turns out, your expectations can continue to be exceeded. Because what you had expected to be a simple dinner with a few other business men and women turned out to be an entire party, hosted in a hotel whose interior resembled something close to a castle (Or what you assume a castle looks like, as you've never personally been into a castle yourself, but this hotel is close enough).

Your eyes sparkle at the extravagant columns and diamond chandeliers hanging high above you, and Jay smiles at the expression on your face; like a little girl being brought to the amusement park for the first time ever.

"Wow, this is...wow," you mutter as you drink in the scene in front of you: people dressed in formal attire likewise to yours and Jay's, mingling and drinking what you imagine to be beverages that cost more than your entire life's worth.

Jay laughs from behind you, "Yeah the company goes a little...extra when it comes to these company dinners."

You scoff as you look up at him. "Oh really, you don't say?" You look around and you're suddenly aware of the many people surrounding the two of you and the attention you've acquired ever since entering the building.

"Jay, people are staring." You shuffle closer to him, your voice lowering down to a whisper.

"Well, it's not everyday the son of the company's CEO brings his girlfriend with him, so...looks like we'll be the talk of the party tonight. Smiles on," he winks at you, and you just know he's loving the attention the two of you are receiving right now.

"Jay Park? Is that you?" You hear a warm voice call out from behind the two of you.

The two of you turn around to meet the owner of the voice, a middle-aged woman dressed in an evening gown that matches the pattern of high-end brands you've been recognizing ever since arriving.

"Mrs. Lee! It's so nice seeing you again," Jay cheerily addresses the woman as the two of you bow in greeting.

You internally giggle at the thought of your Jay being so picture-perfect in the eyes of his father's co-workers.

"This is Y/N," he continues, his hand finding its way to your back, protectively resting it there as you go to introduce yourself. "My girlfriend."

You swear you feel goosebumps rise from where he's lightly touching you, and more so when he introduces you as his girlfriend.

You tell yourself it's just your nerves. Yes, that's it, you're just nervous. I mean, you're in a room filled with people who could easily pay off all your college loans with just a snap of their fingers, who wouldn't be nervous? Right? Right.

"Y/N! It's a pleasure to finally meet you, I've heard so much about you!" Mrs. Lee excitedly exclaims as you turn to Jay with a slightly confused look plastered on your face. He mirrors your expression as he shrugs, moving to stand behind you completely, bringing his hands to rest lowly at your hips.

His hands feel like feathers on the thin fabric of your evening gown, so light, so delicate, as if he's unsure if he's crossing a line. It leaves you wanting more, wanting to naturally lean against him and his warmth. You quick to shake the thought of your head as Mrs. Lee chirps up again.

"Jay's father is always talking about how you've been keeping Jay pleasantly busy nowadays! Good thing too, about time this poor boy settle down for someone as beautiful as you," the woman rambles on as you feel a blush creep up on your cheeks at the thought of Jay talking about you to his dad. If only they knew.

"We should probably go find our seats, I think the dinner is beginning soon," Jay says from behind you, saving the two of you from having to listen to Mrs. Lee's story of how she's known Jay ever since he was five years old and seeing him grow into this mature, loving, young man is so amazing. Oh look! I have baby pictures.

Yeah, he was more so saving himself from embarrassment.

The two of you bid your goodbyes before Jay gently uses the hand on your back to maneuver you through the crowd of socializing business moguls.

"She's not wrong, you know," you feel Jay dip his head so he's speaking near your ear, his warm breath tickling your earlobe, as the two of you make your way through the large foyer room.

"Hm?" You hum in question, turning your head up just enough to be able to make eye contact with him as he responds to your look of confusion.

"You look beautiful tonight," he says, eye contact not breaking once. You freeze in your steps.

You stare back at him in silence. Oh.

Your mind is panicking as it flips through your mental book of responses, unsure of what to say back. But because your mind is cloudy from staring at a put-together Jay in a dark navy suit to match your dress (mixed with the nervous butterflies in your stomach––have they always been there?), the only sound that's able to leave your lips is the small stutter of a:

"Huh?"

Wow Y/N, you had one job. A simple "thank you" could've sufficed! And you went with "Huh"?

You felt like a fifth grader who just learned from a friend of a friend of a friend that their crush likes them back.

"U-um. Mrs. Lee. What she said about you. You look good, really," somehow your nervousness made its way over to Jay now––his eyes flickering from yours to anywhere, anything, else in the room––the awkward tension growing tenfold each second.

Goddamnit Y/N, this is just Jay you're talking to, get a grip.

You're knocked back into reality when he slightly nudges your back to continue making your way to the main ball room, where the dinner is being held.

"Is that a compliment from the Jay Park?" Your smirk can't be seen by Jay, since he's still trailing behind you, but he can definitely hear it through your tone.

"Don't make me take it back," he chuckles, his words felt against your neck, leaving behind a tingly sensation you're not sure why you're feeling. You're glad he's behind you, so he isn't able to see the blush creeping onto your face for the second time tonight.

Jay gives a small nod to the people behind the check-in desk stationed at the entrance as the two of you waltz right into a large ball room lined with countless circular dining tables. So much for a small business dinner.

As the two of you approach one of the tables placed at the front of the room, you notice a familiar figure seated next to the seats reserved for you and Jay.

"Y/N!" Jake exclaims as he gets up from his seat to greet the both of you. "I'm so glad you made it, Jay was so excited to bring you tonight. Deadass would not stop talking about it."

Jay lets out a noise that falls somewhere between a cough and a goose being strangled, his widened eyes warning his talkative friend to just shut up. He's silently cursing the company for always seating his and Jake's family at the same table for these events.

"Aw, is that so? He's lucky he's cute or else I wouldn't have agreed," you grin, winking at your assumed boyfriend sitting next to you.

"Hey, YOU were the one excited to come! I recall a certain someone's face lighting up when I suggested we go shopping for tonight," Jay immediately retorts.

"Only because you were buying," you giggle, causing Jake to laugh as well.

"Damn, Jay. Tough," Jake jokingly adds as you laugh alongside him. The scowl sitting on Jay's face expresses the opposite of what he's feeling right now: warmth filling him up from the sound of your laughter and the image of you getting along so well with his best friend.

"I'm gonna get us some drinks, you two have fun making fun of me," Jay narrows his eyes at the two of you as he gets up from his seat. You bid him off with a smile before turning back to Jake.

"No but really though, this boy would not stop talking about you coming tonight. Then again, he doesn't really ever stop talking about you," Jake nonchalantly says, not knowing how much he was exposing his friend to you right now.

You raise an eyebrow up in response, "Oh really?"

"Seriously! I don't know what you did to him, Y/N, but this Jay I've been seeing recently is new. He complains a lot less about life nowadays, especially on the days he sees you," he leans back in his chair as his comment brings a smile to your face. Little does he know.

You stretch your neck up to find the boy in question and spot him right as he's returning to your shared table, two drinks in hand. You lock eyes with him from across the room and without a second thought, you're giving him a genuine smile that he's immediately returning.

Your heart beats faster at the view.

You wonder why.

It's 3:07AM when you hear the first ding.

You're not 100% sure as of why you're awake at this hour on a Tuesday night––perhaps a combination of your restless thoughts and feelings not letting you sleep plus the typical stress that comes hand-in-hand with the life of a college student.

It's 3:09AM when you hear the second ding, and you brush it off, assuming it was just Heeseung spamming you with memes again––something he does often when he also can't sleep (you found this out the hard way).

It's still 3:09AM when you hear the third ding, and at 3:10AM , you finally reach over and decide to acknowledge the being who's bothering you at this godforsaken hour.

Jay [3:07AM]: Y/N

Jay [3:09AM]: hi

Jay [3:09AM]: r u awake rn

Y/N [3:10AM]: unfortunately so

Y/N [3:11AM]: why are you up

Jay [3:11AM]: come outside

Y/N [3:13AM: jay it's 3am

Jay [3:13AM]: ye and? don't tell me ur a college student with a curfew

Jay [3:14AM]: plus im alrdy waiting for u outside so u have no choice

Jay [3:15AM]: :)

You groan at your bright phone screen currently illuminating your dark dorm room.

You ponder the consequences you may have to suffer tomorrow if you stay up any later than you already have. But considering the fact that you're probably just going to stay awake lying in bed for god knows how long anyways, why not?

(And you would like to point out that this decision has nothing to do with the fact that you haven't seen Jay in a few days and that maybe a tiny, tiny, tiny, part of you may have missed his presence. Nothing.)

And since that logic is obviously valid (you really gotta work on justifying your life choices), you're suddenly grabbing a hoodie from your closet and hoping it'll be enough to keep you, who's merely in an old band t-shirt from high-school and pajama shorts, warm.

The breeze hits your skin the second you open the doors to your dorm's building, and you're met with the view of Jay's sleek, black BMW that probably costs more than your tuition. He waves at you from the driver's seat, motioning for you to get in.

"To what do I owe you the pleasure at this hour," you deadpan at him with a stone-cold voice as you enter through the passenger's side door, hoping your tone was enough to hide the fact that you're giddy at the fact he invited you out at 3AM in the morning. Like a high-school girl sneaking out of her house to meet up with her bad-boy boyfriend that her parents dislike.

The second you enter his car, you're instantly comforted by the warm air blasting through his vents and his playlist softly playing in the background. Jay's pajama pants and messy hair give you more than enough information to know that he probably just rolled out of his own bed as well. You don't know why, but your view: Jay in his oversized hoodie with his unkept hair in front of your dorm building at 3AM on a Tuesday night, gives you comfort in weird ways you can't explain even if you tried.

But it's obviously just your cloudy, 3AM mind not thinking straight. Obviously.

"When I can't sleep, I go on drives around campus. It helps clear my mind," he says, looking over at you to give you a quick smile before starting his car. "Plus, SnapMap said you were still awake, so...figured you'd wanna join."

"Oh so what, you're my stalker now? You're not driving to the woods to kill me now, are you?" You tease, an eyebrow brought up. Jay lets out a laugh from beside you as he begins to drive further into your campus.

"Guess you'll just have to wait and see," he throws you a wink before reverting his gaze back to the road, mindlessly driving to wherever the road decides to take him.

A comfortable silence falls in between the two of you as Jay continues to drive endless routes around your campus. You look over to the boy driving next to you and take in his features––you don't know what changed, but you no longer feel the same anger or annoyance bubbling within you when you're around him. You're not sure when this changed, but you figure it's just the effect of desensitization. After all, you've been spending so much time with him, you're bound to get used to it. Right?

"Why were you up?" Jay finally asks after a few minutes of just the two of you silently basking in each other's presences.

"Ah, you know. The usual. Endless thoughts running through my mind, stress from school, nothing new," you sign, giving him a soft smile followed with a shrug.

"Penny for your thoughts?"

You answer him with silence as you search your head for the answer.

"I don't know. This is kinda weird, isn't it?" You don't know why you get a sudden surge of confidence, but before you can stop yourself, you find yourself rambling on. "If you had told me a month ago that I'd be here driving around with you when it's nearly 4AM, I would've laughed in your face."

Jay doesn't know whether to laugh or scoff. "Is the idea of hanging out with me that unappealing to you?"

You give him a serious look back. "I mean, up until a month ago when you needed me for whatever this game is, you literally pretended I didn't exist."

Oh. Awkward.

You freeze at your own words, mentally screaming at yourself for letting the words leave your mouth. Why, why, why.

"Y/N..." Jay says after clearing his throat after a few seconds of silence.

"No it's fine, it was a joke," you awkwardly cough and direct your attention to anything else around you right now. The view of your campus' buildings zooming by. The clicking of Jay's blinker when he switches lanes. The quiet roaring of his car's engine. The nervous tapping of his fingers against the steering wheel.

The rest of the ride is excruciatingly silent as he exits the main road and into an empty parking lot of some administration building made out of glass that has too many floors for you to count.

You don't know why you feel your heart beating in your throat as Jay puts the car into park––why you feel uneasy. You slightly turn towards him in your seat, hoping to pick up any sign of well...anything from him.

You don't know why you feel a twinge of guilt––it's not like what you said was necessarily wrong. If you were being honest, you were slightly bothered by how the two of you seemed to silently agree not to mention your past all this time. You were always one to seek answers, to seek closure. You couldn't help but bring it up––Jay was your best friend during those years. For him to just wake up one day and pretend you were nothing to him hurt you, and you couldn't help but still wonder what in the world you did to initiate his actions.

"I'm sor–" You're interrupted with his timid voice, as if he was almost afraid to speak.

"I'm not good with people." He's nibbling on his bottom lip, fingers nervously picking at a spot on the steering wheel.

You're opening and closing your mouth, unsure how to respond. You're 100% positive you look like a fish right now. Good for you.

"I don't know why. Jake calls it commitment issues but in order to have commitment, people have to stay in my life. And people just...don't. They're all bound to leave at some point. So what's the point of putting in effort into relationships if they're just going to leave you at the end?"

You're stunned by his sudden confession, not having been prepared for such a heavy topic to arise between the two of you. Up until tonight, your interactions had always been light-hearted and easy––you guys got along well. You didn't know this is how he felt all along.

But you knew where he was coming from.

You knew what Jay had gone through as a child––his mother having left him and his dad when he was young. You remember when your parents had told you the news at the young age of 13, and you remember the pain and sorrow you felt for your then friend. All you wanted to do was go to him and comfort him, but he had already cut you out from his life by then.

"Or maybe I'm the problem. My dad barely acknowledges my existence because he thinks giving me an allowance is all the parenting I need, my friends probably only stick around because they feel bad for me, you wouldn't even be here if it weren't for the bet, and, fuck, I'm literally known as the campus' fuckboy," Jay continues, falling deeper and deeper into the hole he dug himself.

He hates this, he hates opening up and feeling vulnerable, so he doesn't know why he's doing it now. He doesn't know why he feels comfortable voicing out his fears and worries when he's around you. But he does know it's a new feeling––one he doesn't know how to deal with.

"Jay," you lace your voice with as much comfort as you can provide. None of this is his fault, you want to tell him. "I'm sorry."

"Why are you sorry? You didn't do anything," he says with a hint of bitterness and you can't tell if it's directed towards you or the topic at hand.

You're completely turned in your seat now to face him––despite the fact that he refuses to meet your gaze, afraid that looking at you is gonna bring out the most vulnerable in him. "You can talk to me. Talking about it makes it a lot easier. I'll always be here for you, as a friend."

Jay doesn't know what it is or why, but something in him snaps at the sound of a certain word falling out of your lips. Friend. Friend.

Friends don't make his heart beat nervously whenever he's around them. Friends don't keep him up at 3AM in the morning, pondering about his feelings for them. Friends don't provide him with this new, warm comfort he's become accustomed to whenever he's around you.

Deep down, Jay knows you didn't mean to add fuel to the fire. But because he's strong-headed, stubborn, and hates how vulnerable he feels next to you, he unleashes his emotions without thinking about the destruction coming along.

"It's none of your business, Y/N. Forget I said anything. You're just a toy for this stupid game and when it's all over we can go back to our own lives and forget this ever happened."

His sudden words cut deep, but they hurt him more than you. The second the words tumble out of his mouth, he's hit with the feeling of instant regret washing over him, and the lump forming in his throat restricts him from finding the right words to take them back.

The silence that falls between the two of you this time is different. It's a cold silence. A loud silence.

Jay feels his walls coming back up around him––the ones you managed to get through––and all he wants to do is apologize but he's terrified. Terrified of seeing your reaction, terrified of losing you again. For the second time.

You tell yourself he doesn't mean it. You tell yourself that he's just enduring more pain that one should ever receive.

But you also tell yourself that this wouldn't be the first time Jay leaves you in the dust.

You tell yourself that you're foolish for ever believing a friendship, or more, could come out of this act at the end. That you're so naive for feeling those stupid, stupid butterflies you've started to notice in your stomach whenever you see, or even think of, him.

"Okay," you begin with a firm tone. You're hurt, but you refuse to show it. You won't let him hurt you for a second time. Not again.

"Just...find me when you need me. As your fake girlfriend or just...me. I'm still here for you," is the last thing you say before un-clicking your seatbelt and leaving his car, beginning your walk back to your dorm hall.

Jay is unsure about many things in life. He's unsure about what he wants to do in the future, he's unsure of where he's going to settle in life, heck, he's unsure about what to have for lunch tomorrow. But he's sure about one thing.

That he's wearing his heart on his sleeve right now, and it's all because of you.

That you've become this new lifeline and he has to choose between holding onto you or drowning.

When Jay wakes up the next morning, his first gut instinct is to get ready to pick you up for class. But today's different. Jay doesn't know where the two of you stand now, especially after last night.

Jay doesn't know how to deal with this combination of unknown emotions he's been feeling lately. They didn't come out of no where, by any means, he realizes. They've been slowly growing over the past month of seeing you so often––like a plant he's been watering overtime, not expecting it to bloom into a flower so suddenly––but he figured it was nothing more than just enjoying the company of a friend.

Until he realizes that the term friend just doesn't suite you anymore––not to him, at least. And that scares him. It scares him that you've made him genuinely smile more in this past month than he ever has in his 19 years of living. It scares him that when he's around you he can't comprehend his own thoughts, his feelings. It scares him that you make him vulnerable, that you've changed him. That you've managed to make the walls that he's spent so long building and polishing to crumble with a simple tap of your finger.

In a perfect world, Jay would have already told you all this––he would be unafraid of how you would react, unafraid of your rejection, unafraid of losing this growing relationship with you. But alas, we don't live in a perfect world. And so when Jay drives to class that day, he drives right past your dorm building.

"Where's Y/N?" is the first thing Jake questions when he enters Jay's car that morning, confused by your absence, having been used to you being in the front seat every morning when Jay goes to give Jake rides to class as well.

"I don't know," Jay mutters, unemotional eyes focused on the road in front of him, not interested in continuing a conversation that involves thinking about you.

Jake hesitates as curiosity gets the best of him. "Did you guys get into a fight or something?"

Jay's hands tighten around the steering wheel of his car. "Or something. Let's just leave it at that."

There are a few beats of silence before Jake speaks up again.

"Well, I guess this works out because I wanted to talk to you about something."

Jay continues to stare straight ahead of him, focusing on just trying to get by without mentally beating himself up at the simple thought of you.

The simple thought of you and your smile. Your witty remarks. Your stupid eye rolls. Your laughter. Your kindness. So much for not thinking about you.

"I'm calling it off," Jake's words catch Jay off guard.

"Huh? Calling what off?"

"The bet. I'm calling it off. I don't care about the textbook fees I'll have to pay next semester. Look, fight or not, you and Y/N are good for each other, everyone can see it. And I really don't want this to end up being one of those messed up teen TV shows where the girlfriend finds out the entire relationship was based off of a stupid game and then they break up and the boyfriend falls into eternal sadness and regret. And I don't wanna see you sad, dude. So yeah! Congrats," although he's admitting defeat, Jake's beaming widely, just content with the fact that his best friend has finally found happiness through the form of you. "You win."

But Jay feels like the opposite of a winner. Because even though his only intention coming into this was simply winning the bet, his life isn't as simple as it was a month ago. Because he discovered something much more valuable than some stupid textbook fees or five hundred dollars or getting his physics homework done for an entire semester.

Something he's scared he's already lost.

You.

⸺ ⸺ ⸺ ⸺ ⸺ ⸺ ⸺ ⸺ ⸺ ⸺ ⸺

The next time you see Jay is at the same time and place as when he first ever appeared to pick you up––at 12:17PM on a Friday afternoon, as you're exiting the doors of the lecture building home to your awfully long Capitalism in World History class. This time, however it's different.

Because this time, it's one month later, and Jay Park is no longer a forgotten side character in the story of your life. This time, you're frustrated because it's been three days since you've last heard from Jay. And because it's been three days since you've last heard from him, you can't focus on anything else, and because you can't focus on anything else, you're falling behind on every other aspect in your life. Jay's somehow managed to become the center of your life without even having to be present.

Well, up until now. Up until you go down the steps of your lecture hall's entrance and look up to be met with a figure leaning on a car you're far too familiar with. You freeze in your steps as you make eye contact with the boy you've been thinking about non-stop for the past month three days.

Your mind tells you to walk away, to just follow your flight instinct instead of fight, to just go back to your normal life. But here's the thing. Ever since Jay's made his way back to your life, it's been far from normal.

And if you're being honest, you had no interest in going back to your normal life. Normal's overrated anyways. You find your legs bringing yourself over to him, your heart leading the way.

"Hi," you simply say, planting yourself right in front of him.

"Hi."

"What are you doing here?" You already know the answer, but you want to hear him say it.

"Waiting for you," Jay doesn't hesitate in answering you. This time will be different, he tells himself.

"I can walk myself home, thanks," you state, but your actions tell differently, as you make no sign of moving from your spot in front of him.

Jay's mind contemplates telling you everything. About how he regrets that friendship-breaking decision he made that one fateful day in the eighth grade, about his true feelings, about how he first suspected these feelings when he was 11 years old and saw you in your fancy get-up for the sixth grade dance but put it off as a little crush, and about how the same feelings grew into something so, so much more in the present. But seeing that putting all these thoughts into words would involve more than one functioning brain cell (which is all he's convinced he has in the moment, for the view of you staring up at him, looking like that, has his brain short-circuiting), he settles with:

"He called it off. It's over. The bet."

"Oh."

Silence.

Okay, Jay. This is your chance. Say it.

"Is that it?" You lift an eyebrow, awaiting for more explanation. When it doesn't come, you slightly nod and start backing away. "I'll see you around then."

Is that it? Do the two of you just go back to your respective lives now? How can Jay do that, when he doesn't even recall what his life was like before you entered it––and especially when he has absolutely no interest in going back to that life?

Fuck it.

"Y/N!" He stands up straight, a newfound confidence taking over. This time will be different, he tells himself. Because now, he knows what he wants. For sure.

You turn towards him, to see him already making his way towards you, stopping in his steps when he finds himself close enough to you that he can't concentrate anymore.

"I'm sorry for ditching you in the eighth grade. I'm sorry for ignoring you since then. I'm sorry for dragging you into this stupid mess and for pushing you away and I'm sorry for calling you a toy. Because it's far from truth. I like you. A lot. And––and I'm scared. I'm scared of what this means for us, because I just keep messing things up and all I know is that I don't wanna wake up tomorrow and realize you're not in my life anymore and––"

"Woah, woah, Jay. Slow down," you look up at him, the corners of your lips threatening to curve up into a smile. "You're an idiot, you know."

Jay's never really confessed his feelings to anyone before, per say, so he doesn't really know what to expect. But he's watched enough Netflix rom-coms in this lifetime (which is still not that many) to know that hearing the words "you're an idiot" isn't what you're supposed to hear after pouring your heart and soul out. Surely not, right?

"I––I'm not sure how to respond to that," he quietly says, searching your eyes for a sign, for anything. You giggle at his sudden shyness as you grab both his arms and look at him right in the eyes.

"It's okay. I get it, if anything, I'm also scared. But you somehow got me wrapped around your stupid finger, and I hate it," you smirk at him, your hands slowly making their way up his arms to circle around his neck.

Jay's hands naturally fall at your waist as he lets out a breathe he didn't even know he was holding as he returns your smirk. "Well, I could say the same about you. And I also hate it, for your information."

"Hmm, is that so? I guess it cancels out then, right?" You smile at him as he's pulling you in so close, your head turns cloudy.

Jay grins at you, his eyes holding so much joy and endearment as they quickly flicker down to your lips before returning to your own eyes. "I guess this only means one thing then."

"Mm, and what's that?"

And before Jay can answer––and because your life's been anything but normal lately––you make the first move this time, moving your head up to close the small gap between the two of you.

His arms instinctively tighten around you as you capture his lips with your very own, and Jay swears he's about to lift off into space right now. He's on cloud nine, and he makes no plans to touch the ground ever again.

The kiss quickly becomes fervent, all the pent-up tension that the two of you had for one another finally finding its way out, all the words that were previously left unsaid finally expressing themselves. You don't even care if you're being judged by the conservative faculty members of your school right now, or by the looks of fellow students walking past the two of you.

You try your best to keep yourself from smiling as he continues to press his lips against yours, his hand moving to hold your chin, guiding your mouth with his.

Before you find yourself getting carried away, you step back to take a breath, resting your forehead against his chest as his hands rest against your back. He smiles at the sound of you giggling against him.

Jay takes a step back to take one look at you and realizes, in this moment, that change can be good. And he's willing to undergo this change. As long as it's with you.

⸺ ⸺ ⸺ ⸺ ⸺ ⸺ ⸺ ⸺ ⸺ ⸺ ⸺

The next morning, you bounce down the steps of your dorm building's entrance to meet the wide, bright smile of your ex-childhood-bestfriend-turned-fake-boyfriend-turned-real-boyfriend waiting for you in front of his car, small pastry bag in hand. You smile back at him.

Jay drives you to class that day.

And everyday after that.

. ⋅ ˚̣- : ✧ : – ⭒ ⊹ ⭒ – : ✧ : -˚̣⋅ .. ⋅ ˚̣- : ✧ : – ⭒ ⊹ ⭒ – : ✧ :

✰ let me know what you think! if u made it til the end, mwah :') <3

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wasabito · 3 years

Text

➽ corruption collab masterlist — hosted by @ultimate-astridwriting and @bummie ♥️

➽ note: definitely gonna come back and edit this a bit more because threesomes are hard as fuck, no pun intended lmao happy v-day everyone!

➽ word count: 3.2k

➽ cw/tags: polyamory + body worship + threesome + praise kink + public sex + choking + handjobs/fingering + vaginal sex + squirting + established relationship

➽ pairing: akaashi x fem!reader x bokuto

💿 1. nasty — ariana grande || 2. come on — jhene aiko

With Valentine's Day fast approaching, it becomes rather apparent that love and romance are in the air. Storefronts are decorated in bubblegum pinks and reds. Flower shops promote their special bouquet arrangements at discounted prices. Even your favorite hole in the wall coffee shop has fallen prey to the spirit of cupid as they announce their new strawberry shortcake dessert and heart-shaped scones.

In lieu of staying home for the third night this week, your boyfriends escort you to dinner at an upscale restaurant in the city. They treat you to a five-course meal and a bottle of wine even pricier than the dinner itself. One would think, after three years of dating, you would no longer be caught unawares by their spontaneity. And yet, here they are, once again pulling the rug from underneath your four-inch heels.

Your gaze flickers from Akaashi's tranquil smile to Bokuto's wide grin.

Adjusting the napkin in your lap, you open your mouth to speak, then pause as the right words fail it come. Brain short-circuiting instead, you let out a confused, "Huh?!"

"We're taking you to Italy!" Bokuto repeats, about ready to hop out of his seat with excitement. He looks to Akaashi, "Three nights in Venice, right 'Kaashi?"

"Yes, we decided on Venice after you told us you'd always wanted to visit. Remember Koutarou's birthday last year?"

"But that was like months ago! Did you two honestly hold onto that drunk little confession this entire time?"

"Of course."

"Yup!!"

It's in moments like these when you are reminded of their history together, first as teammates playing volleyball, and eventually close friends. Not much longer after that, you'd met and fallen for Akaashi, then Bokuto, and thus began the relationship of today. While you find it a little ridiculous, it seems neither of them has any qualms about this trip.

After all, you are their lovely girlfriend. Why wouldn't they want to make your wishes come true?

Bokuto claps his hands, eyes sparkling. "Everything's already planned out, babe, so don't worry your pretty little head, okay?"

You can't argue with that. Reaching over, you take Bokuto's hand in your right and Akaashi's in your left. "Alright, since you two went to all this trouble for me, I guess I'll just sit back and enjoy it."

♥️

Venice is just as beautiful as you imagined.

It looks as if it's floating upon blue-green waters with lots of sunshine, beautiful architecture, and a vibrancy that makes it feel like the city has a life of its own. You are grateful you didn't come by yourself. There is no way you would've enjoyed it without Akaashi and Bokuto at your side.

"We're about a ten-minute walk from Piazza San Marco," Akaashi says as he taps his glasses. His sharp gaze is locked on the map in his hands, likely committing most landmarks and details to memory. "Would you like to check it out?"

"Yeah! Let's do it."

"Off we go, go, go!"

Thus, a majority of your first day in Venice is spent sightseeing.

The three of you take a gondola ride through Canale Grande, then have a peek into the Gallerie Dell'Accademia at Akaashi's insistence, though naturally, you wouldn't have come all the way to Italy and not visited at least one art museum. Afterward, the three of you go to the Le Mercerie shopping district and buy gifts for your friends before finally taking a pit stop for the most delicious gelato in the city.

The sunsets sooner than expected, casting the entire block in deep red hues. Bokuto's mood is greatly influenced by it, and the jetlag certainly doesn't help. He props himself against you, nuzzling you in a way that says he's itching for a kiss.

"Tired, Kou?"

Bokuto hums. "A little... More hungry than anything."

He leans in and pecks your lips with a sated smile. "Maybe I should eat you. I mean, how is it my girl's so damn cute? Not fair, I can't resist."

You snort at Bo's silliness but can't help shivering a little at the tiny implication of his words. He always did like to lay his head on your thighs, leaving a trail of kisses and love bites where he could.

So, the thought of him eating you out made you squeeze your thighs together.

Akaashi approaches with your frozen treats held between his long fingers; having overheard Bokuto earlier, he tucks his wallet back into his pocket.

"We'll get some dinner after we drop off these shopping bags. How does that sound?"

You eagerly take your gelato from him with a smile.

"Sounds like a plan."

Akaashi nods, standing at your other side, close enough to brush elbows though not as close as Bokuto, who was nearly hovering.

The three of you are in one of the narrow, maze-like streetways, basking in the warm, early evening glow. The sweet taste of fruit and cream on your tongue fills you with so much contentment, especially while being with your favorite people. You aren't sure if anything could top the way you currently felt, and the trip has just barely started.

Upon arriving at your temporary place of residence, a quaint little villa on the waterfront just along the shore of Punta Sabbioni Beach, Bokuto immediately kicks off his sandals, dumps the bags, and promptly falls asleep on the couch.

"It's so weird seeing Kou like this." You remark. "On any normal day, he's brimming with almost too much energy, but now he's all tired."

"Well, he did stay up an entire twelve hours on the plane. It was only a matter of time before fatigue caught up to him." Akaashi picks up Bokuto's shoes with practiced ease and places them by the others.

There is a fond smile running along the edges of his mouth as he tucks a throw around the man's larger frame. You help him adjust a spare pillow under Bo's head and then set off to explore the rest of the area.

It seemed like everything about Venice was taken straight out of a romance film, with its cobblestone paths, gothic cathedral architecture, crisp ocean waters, and authentic Italian cuisine. It is no wonder the city's known to draw hapless souls together in romance. Even you fell subject to it, and by each passing moment, you crave to be with your boyfriends.

You are standing at the balcony overlooking the beach, satisfied with your inspection of the villa when Akaashi comes to stand behind you. He holds onto the railings, caging you in his arms, and rests his chin on your shoulder.

"He was right, you know." He murmurs. "You do look good enough to eat."

Blunt as ever. Apparently, something's never change.

Though one might say that Akaashi is as he's always been after high school and college, there is no denying his boost in confidence. After all, he had landed not one but two rather attractive partners.

He kisses your cheek, then your jaw, before latching onto your neck.

The sun's scenic view on the horizon, reflecting upon the beach sands of gold and shimmering orange waves, makes for an excellent backdrop.

You turn to face Akaashi and pull him into a heated kiss. His lips convey a sense of devotion to you, and with each press of them against yours, you can feel just how bad he's yearning for more.

"Kei," you whisper. "Let's go inside."

In a moment, Akaashi whisks you off your feet quite similar to how Bokuto would, though you both don't even make it to the bedroom.

Your other partner had sat up on the sofa, hair flat on one side, scrubbing his eyelids.

"Guys, I'm freaking starving!" Bokuto groans. "Let's get some food or something."

He doesn't even notice how you and Akaashi are breathing heavy or how your clothes are sporting wrinkles that were not previously there. Regardless, Akaashi has food delivered while you went ahead to shower the day's journey away. There are still two days left. You'd get your chance with them at some point.

♥️

Sadly, the entirety of day two is spent indoors. Heavy sheets of rain continue to fall, muddying the shoreline. The three of you huddle on the sofa wrapped in blankets with subtitled movies playing in the background.

Even though you would've much rather been out exploring in the city, just sharing in your boyfriend's warmth would suffice for now. Akaashi hands you a steaming cup of something rich in both color and smell.

"What's this?"

"Just espresso." He takes the empty seat beside you.

You savor the taste while leaning against his shoulder. "Mm, nice."

Bokuto keeps his head on your lap, loving how you thread your fingers into his hair.

It is a tranquil kind of peace that soon lulls you to sleep.

Later, when you finally wake up, it's dark, and you're alone. A blanket had been tucked around your shoulders to shield you from the sudden chill. At some point, the television had been shut off along with every light in the room. You might've been a little scared if not for the voices coming from the second floor. Slowly, you creep up the winding staircase, dragging along the blanket around your shoulders.

"Hey, hey, hey!" Bokuto chuckles. "You're finally up!"

His hair is down, wet from his shower, and he holds a thin towel together around his waist. In his hand is a cellphone, and he doesn't hesitate to shove the screen into your face. "Say hi, Tetsu!"

"Hi Y/N, how's it going?"

You blink slowly, still trying to wake yourself up.

"Kuroo, hey… I'm well. How are you?"

"Great, just about to head out for a late lunch. I hear it's almost ten pm over there."

"Yeah, it's an eight-hour time difference."

You and Kuroo continue to chat while Bokuto towels off his hair and puts on clothes. Afterward, you let Bokuto resume his conversation and join Akaashi on the bed. The man had gone full editor-mode with his glasses propped up in his hair as he read through some work documents.

When you approach, he greets you with a kiss on the cheek. "You look well-rested."

"Is that your way of telling me I have drool on my cheek, Keiji?"

He cracks a tiny smile, eyes taking in your features, then he pokes your cheek with his index finger. "Perhaps."

You scrub the corners of your mouth with your sleeve and drape yourself over Akaashi, work be damned. This was supposed to be a special weekend for relaxing.

"I really wanted to go to the beach today." You pout.

Akaashi interlocks his fingers with yours. "Maybe we still can. It stopped raining a few hours ago."

"Really?!"

You hop off the bed and head for the window. He's right, the rain had long stopped, and the beach lay bare, lit by only the moonlight.

Maybe a short walk to the beach would do you some good.

♥️

The grains of sand feel cold against your feet without the sun to beat down on them, but you don't complain. The air is humid enough on its own that you forgo wearing actual clothes and instead wear a swimsuit along with Bokuto's old Fukurōdani windbreaker.

You walk along the shore, toes digging into the sand, letting the ocean waves lap at your feet to wash them clean again.

At first, it's so eerily quiet without a soul around except you, but even that doesn't last long. You hear Bokuto's voice bellow into the night as he jogs towards you in nothing but swim trunks. Behind him, Akaashi trails slowly after with a blanket in hand.

"We thought you might want some company." He says and spreads the cover on the sand several feet away from the water, content with just watching.

Bokuto grabs your hand and you go running to the water with him, but a second later, you both come sprinting back.

"It's freezing!"

"S-So co-co-cold!"

You collapse on top of him, fingers splayed across his bare chest. However, when you try to sit up, Bokuto has other plans. He keeps you pressed to his chest with both arms around your waist.

"Let me keep you warm, baby!"

You know he meant it in the most innocent way, but you can't help but think other thoughts. Your nerves fray at the image that blooms in your head and spreads like wildfire.

And as Akaashi strokes your back, you know he's probably read your mind.

It's the way your eyes seem to glitter with want that gives it away. Akaashi has always been rather observant, and so your silent cues are something he's always been privy to.

His nimble fingers curve around the nape of your neck, and he tilts his head to capture your lips in a kiss. This one is unlike the one from yesterday. There is no rush, no desire to quicken his haste; instead, he savors the taste of you like it's something to be thoroughly enjoyed.

Underneath you, Bokuto stirs, growing aroused at the sight of his two lovers' kiss. He can't decide whether he wants to join in or sit back and watch. But his large hand comes down to stroke your ass, resulting in a moan you breathe directly into Akaashi's mouth.

"You're not usually so forthcoming, Keiji," you whisper against his lips. "Eager, are we?"

Akaashi pulls away just enough to pepper your face in feathery kisses. "Can you blame me? When I have such a lovely girlfriend here."

As if confirming his words, he slips a hand under your jacket and cups your breast. The pads of his thumb brush along the seams of your bathing suit, caressing your nipple.

"Kou, let's show Y/N just how much we love her, yes?"

Bokuto didn't need to be told twice. He had been in entranced by you and Akaashi, completely taken by the way your lips danced upon one another. But now, he wanted more than anything to touch you, kiss you, hold you.

Bokuto cradles you in his lap, propping your legs open with his knees so Akaashi can kneel in front of you. It didn't take much for him to relieve you of your clothing, namely your swimming bottoms. But the second the air hits your bare cunt, you feel tense.

You aren't sure what it was, but the atmosphere is different. Both Akaashi and Bokuto are so focused on you, it feels like you're under a spotlight.

"You're so pretty, so beautiful," Bokuto says while squeezing your thighs. His warm breath tickles your ear as he presses his nose into your neck. Next, his lips follow suit. "Wanna fuck you, so bad baby. You'd like that, right?"

His words earn him a chuckle from Akaashi, who merely licks two of his fingers, wetting them and sliding into you. Your mouth parts, shaky breaths barely expelled from your lungs. You're hyper-aware of the fact that you're literally being fingered on a beach in the middle of the night, and you can't bring yourself to care. It feels good to be pampered by the two men you love.

For every moan, Akaashi gives you double for your efforts, thrusting his fingers just right, curving them in such a way that has your back arching off Bokuto, who has also taken to fondling your nipples. With every roll of his hips, you feel his cock against your ass, and it pushes you further into Akaashi's fingers.

Your impending orgasm sweeps by so close and yet so far away. All you can do is rock yourself faster.

"Please," you whimper. "W-Wanna come."

Akaashi crooks his fingers, pressing into the perfect spot that sends you hurtling over the edge. Your cunt spasms around his fingers, clenching in intervals you have no control over until his hand is coated with your wet, slick juices that keep coming the more you squirt all over him.

"She's so wet 'Kaashi. Look at our pretty girl."

Akaashi places a chaste kiss on your forehead with a smile.

"She's doing well, so far. Let's see if she can keep going."

Bokuto shimmies his shorts off enough to free his hard cock. He had been uncharacteristically patient until now, but that was soon to change as he lines himself up with your cunt, teasing you with just the tip.

Your whining is unintelligible, but both men understand you more or less.

"Give the pretty girl what she wants," Akaashi says. He strokes his own hard-on at the sight of Bokuto's pushing past your wet folds. "I know she can take more than that."

Bokuto has always been girthy, and it takes you more than a few seconds to adjust to his size, but when you finally do, it feels like heaven.

The position you're in gives Bokuto all the power to thrust into you like a ragdoll. But it's only when you make eye contact with Akaashi that you realize that it's, in fact, the other way around for him in particular. From where he sits, stroking his cock with flushed cheeks and choked moans, you see just how much control you have over him.

"Kiss me." You moan.

Akaashi doesn't let you repeat yourself. He kisses you long and hard even as you grip his throat with one hand and his hair with the other. He kisses you until his lips are red and bruised.

"Good boy. Both of y-you."

Bokuto groans loudly. "Say it again. Keep saying it!"

"Y-You're both so good. I-" your hips stutter against Akaashi's fingers that are rubbing circles into your clit. "Good, so good-"

That's all it takes to take Bokuto over the edge, blowing his load. "Perfect, so fucking perfect."

You can feel another orgasm swelling up inside your belly. You try to tell them but can't, too overcome by the feeling of your body tingling with desire. It's too much, overwhelmingly so; your vision blurs with unshed tears as Bokuto continues to pound into sopping pussy. Pleasure floods every fiber of your being until you're limp and every nerve in your body is set alight.

Bokuto slips out of you easily, a string of his semen following.

You can only look on in a drowsy haze as Bokuto leans over and kisses you and then Akaashi, working him over with a tight fist.

♥️

The following morning, you’re the first to wake, but only because there’s a limb jammed into your back and a heavy weight on your chest. It takes you a moment to realize, but it’s Bokuto’s elbow poking you and Akaashi’s head resting on you.

All three of you are a tangle of limbs in bed, but you aren’t sure how you’d gotten there.

“G’mornin’” Bokuto breathes. His lips caress the column of your neck.

“Morning.”

You shift into a more comfortable position. Though doing so presses Akaashi’s morning wood against your thigh.

“Keiji, you awake yet?”

“Mmm barely.” Akaashi looks up at you through his lashes, then smiles and nuzzles closer into your chest.

Bokuto, content with being your big spoon, reaches over to touch Akaashi, hands cupping his cheek. “It’s Valentine’s Day!”

“That’s true, should we do something special.”

Thinking about the previous night, you feel desire stirring in your gut. “Could we just... do it again?”

Both men look to each other then back at you, sporting matching smiles.

“Why not?”

#bokuaka x reader #bokuto x reader #koutarou bokuto x reader #akaashi x reader #keiji akaashi x reader #haikyuu x reader #hq x reader #haikyuu smut

787 notes · View notes

frogtanii · 3 years

Text

WRITTEN BIT BABEY :)

you leave the room with a heavy weight sitting on your heart that is only amplified by the serious look on kenma’s face. you ignore it in favor of turning on the tv and going to disney+, queuing up the original mulan knowing how into the story hinata would get. still refusing to face your friend, you move to the kitchen digging around the cabinets to find snacks.

“yn,” the sound of your name jolts you out of your focus even though you were expecting it. “can we please talk?”

it feels like the air has been sucked out of the room, the only thing remaining being a heavy blanket of tension draping over the two of you. when you chance a look at kenma, you’re taken aback by the unreadable look on his face--it's overwhelming and you have to take a step back.

you turn away from him, unable to look for long without your mind racing and heart clenching with unknown guilt. a hand gently touches your shoulder, the feeling sending a shock of discomfort down your spine.

"we need to talk about kuroo," kenma starts, his golden eyes desperately searching for your own but you refuse to make eye contact, too afraid of what his expression might hold. when you don't move to face him, kenma sighs and moves somewhere behind you. the sound of a barstool scraping against the tiled floors alerts you that he's probably sitting down which signals a long and emotion-packed conversation.

"he texted me today." the relatively innocent statement is weighed down by the many implications behind it. your mind begins to race--what could that even mean? did he talk about you? your childhood? what he had done to you and more importantly, why? "what did you guys talk about?" the question is out of your mouth before you can stop it, desperation creeping into the edges of your voice.

you finally, finally, shift to face him, mentally steeling yourself for the upbringing of things you'd much rather forget.

"he's playing with you yn. you know it, i know it, he knows it. you need to separate yourself from him," kenma says, his voice monotone and soft. "i-i love you, you know that right?" you nod but remain tight-lipped, allowing your best friend to finish his piece.

"i know you think he's changed but some people never do. i just- i wouldn't be able to live with myself if i didn't say anything and let him hurt you like before." he lets out a deep breath and runs his hands through his almost entirely brown hair. something glints under the soft kitchen lights and you recognize it as the bracelet you'd bought him back in your first year of high school. you smile to yourself, not noticing the look of admiration in his eyes and the soft smile gracing his lips.

the sound of a door opening startles the both of you from your silent reverie, your eyes trailing to the hallway where hinata stands bundled up in four blankets and looking absolutely miserable. "oh shō," you whisper, his puffy eyes already welling up with tears.

kenma moves faster than you, kindly (well as kind as kenma can be) moving the hinata burrito to the couch with you following closely behind. you plop yourself down right next to the redhead, his body coming to rest in your lap. you can't help but lean down and press a kiss to his forehead, running your fingers through his orange locks.

"w-what were y-you guys talking a-about?" shōyō asks, his voice watery and thick with tears. you shake your head at his question, not wanting to bog him down with depressing tales about one of his friends. "nothing baby, nothing. how are you feeling? do you need anything? water, snacks?" your fingers never leave his head, even when he turns to look at you frustratedly, his cheeks puffing in annoyance.

"i want you to tell me what you guys were talking about," he orders, fumbling his body burrito until he's sitting upright between you and kenma. "i'm not a baby, y'know."

kenma barks out a laugh, leaning over to ruffle hinata's hair. "says the one who's been crying all day," hinata giggles at the contact before kenma adds, "baby." you grin as hinata tries to force a pout on his face but it doesn't work, a small smile worming its way there instead.

"we can talk about it later, hm?" you say as you stand before moving to the kitchen to get snacks. hinata nods and snuggles into kenma's arms while mulan begins to play in the background. you're quick to join them, handing a bag of chips to kenma while shō presses a kiss to your cheek before settling in to watch the movie.

------

turns out the later was much later--you'd gotten through all of mulan, frozen one and two, and half of moana before hinata tried to bring kuroo up again.

"shō, you really don't want to hear about it," you groan while cleaning up the kitchen, carefully evading hinata as he follows close behind. "but you promised," he whines, finally grabbing hold of you and resting his head on your shoulder. kenma pops his head from around the corner with a mouthful of pocky's and shakes his head before speaking up. "you should tell him--he deserves to know why you transfered to karasuno in our third year."

you roll your eyes before bopping hinata on the forehead, sending him to the ground with a moan. "fine but if i'm going to be forced to relive the hell that was my high school years, i'm gonna do it over text." with that, you playfully stomp back over to the couch, bringing out your phone and lying down, determined to get this conversation over with as fast as possible.

storytime!!

series masterlist

——————————————————————————

an: holy shit this took me FOREVER AND IT SUCKS ASS IM SO SORRY this is not how i wanted this explanation to go but my writing juice dissipated i am so sorry 😞 don’t worry abt feeding me idk if i wanna hear it for this trash LMAO

EDIT: I REDID IT SO KUROO IS LESS EVIL PLS DISREGARD EVERYTHING YOU MIGHT HAVE READ EARLIER GOMEN

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@suhkusa • @tamaguchi • @heyyourecute • @yn-tingz • @mymelodysbreakfastburrito • @tadashi-simp • @bbyouamazin • @1987hotschott • @elianetsantana • @sunflowerirl • @amberalisa • @animeboihoe • @iloveyouasmuchaspoohloveshoney • @xo-lovelyreign-xo • @vitalthot • @starry-magicshop • @mariachiii • @karasunobbys • @underratedmage • @seomisaho • @timeturnerss • @h0ngh0ngh0ng • @myeggodied • @nekomacam • @smuttyanimeslut • @iminlovewhaikyuu • @saturnfarie • @dreamstormings • @spikertrash • @just-snog-already • @quiche-inoya • @strawbabytsukki • @sky-has-a-main-ig • @xxsweetbubblegumxx • @imnotyourramonaflowersbruh • @naimalove143 • @bakarinnie • @bakudad • @birdiewolf • @letthemreadfanfiction • @tsukkiboii • @misluck

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lovebecomeshim · 3 years

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hello! your zutara posting today has finally motivated me to ask this question because I came to atla very late(last year, to be specific) and I Love It Very Much but am 1000% out of the loop as far as why what remains of fandom (at least that I've seen among my friends) is so very strongly zutara. I'm not opposed to it per se I just don't really know what has driven it to apparently be such a popular ship? can you help me understand and maybe convert me a little bit?

Hey!! Your ICON! :D I can try but I’m not sure how coherent I’ll be; however I AM sure someone a lot more competent will be willing to add to this. Either way, I’m glad you asked because my plan was to drag down as many people as possible with me.

*smacks the hood of zutara* this baby can fit so much mutual love and support!

This got so long, I’m so sorry. I don’t know how to put it under a cut on mobile and it already got deleted once so I’m scared to mess with it lol. Moving on.

I’m gonna start this with a disclaimer that im on mobile so formatting is tricky and I’m also really new to atla in that I only completed my first watch through in like 2019??? So some of my info is all just based on what I’ve picked up from Discourse 👀 so anyway the sparknotes version: zutara was wildly popular from the beginning. To the point where the atla crew internally disagreed on which ship should be endgame. (Ex. Bryke [showrunners] asked the writers to rewrite The Southern Raiders to make Zuko seem less ideal for Katara than Aang [which failed, depending on who you ask]; the animation team purposefully created a visual parrallel between Oma and Shu in the Cave of Two Lovers and Zuko and Katara in the catacombs under Ba Sing Se in the Crossroads of Destiny; etc.)

The ship was popular enough that Bryke actually chose to display zk fanart at a con for the sole purpose of mocking the fans, but that’s neither here nor there. The entire episode Ember Island Players, while a love letter to/parody of the whole show, was an opportunity to address zutara’s viability as a canon pairing (while, again, mocking zutaras for romanticizing that catacombs scene). Point is! It’s always been popular but with it not being endgame, there’s got to be something that’s given it staying power.

And that’s honestly got to do with three things: their dynamic, thematic cohesion, and potential.

(You know what... you know what, it’s four things. The fourth is they’re so aesthetically pleasing together and individually. Like, they’re just good looking people [specifically when they’re grown but they’re also cute kids] and that absolutely doesn’t hurt) (but it’s not the Point, it’s just nice to point out sometimes)

The dynamic is hard to get into without also looking at the canon pairings, but I think I can do that without unnecessary bashing. It’s just that part of the magic of zutara is really highlighted by what they give to each other that their other relationships don’t.

First off, it’s classic enemies to (would be) lovers. The absolute truest form of it. It’s not too different from how CS started out: a rogue antagonist with a job to do—but no personal vendetta against the future love interest—who is deeply and emotionally invested in his personal storyline (revenge/redemption) with little regard for how it effects other people after his entire life and genuine good nature are marred by suffering, and a fierce warrior girl with a strong moral compass and her own personal investment in stopping him (protect her family and save the world doing it). Obviously frustration and animosity grew between them by the nature of them being on opposing sides, but that just lends itself to the sweetness of their later reconciliation.

The thing is that while they’re wildly different on the surface (he’s a hot-headed prince of a fascist regime who is trying to capture the Avatar to please his father; she’s a nurturing daughter of the chief who is trying to protect and train the Avatar in order to topple his father’s throne) they find out that they have so much more in common both in their experiences and their personalities.

(What follows is an excessive use of the word “both” and I’m sorry about that)(I can edit it. I can do that. That IS an option............)

They both have an innate sense of justice that they are determined to see done (zuko, at the war meeting, sticking up for the Earth Kingdom kid when the guards torment his family, choosing not to steal from the pregnant couple despite his circumstances, abiding by his word to leave the SWT should Aang come willingly, etc.; katara, literally.... at any point). They both have pretty one-track minds at accomplishing certain goals once they’ve put their mind to it, regardless of a lack of support in that endeavor (it goes without saying I guess, but zuko’s entire hunt; katara’s determination to get the earth benders to fight back, her determination to absolutely destroy Pakku until he agrees to teach her, etc.). They both lost their mothers at young ages. Their worlds are war-torn and traumatizing to them both, if in different ways, but that ultimately forces them to grow up too quickly to be wholly independent individuals. They both have issues with their fathers (for WILDLY different reasons, but). They both hold extreme prejudices that they need to learn to overcome (which ties into thematic cohesion)(bit like Lizzie and Darcy in that way but magnified by a million). They’re both extremely emotional and empathetic—which can and often does result in loud outbursts. Katara’s a bit better adjusted and can temper her anger for longer than S1 Zuko can, but they both feel that anger deeply and have no compunctions expressing it (Katara is, usually, more justified, particularly in S1. Again, S1 Zuko is severely maladjusted but at the point when they could’ve feasibly become a couple, he’s so much better off with the way he carries himself). They both struggle with feelings of inferiority in their bending abilities when confronted with prodigal benders like Aang and Azula, but have the work ethic required to double down and become two of the most powerful benders in the three remaining nations. This is a little more minor but it is a parrallel that appeals to some shippers that they both have these alter egos in the Painted Lady (notably fire nation coded) and the Blue Spirit (water tribe coded) that are pretty different from who they are day-to-day and are useful in accomplishing a purpose that they as themselves cannot.

(I’m.... I just realized that this could potentially get very long. Should I have made a slide show with bullet points??????)

Anyway, similar. I know there’s more but there’s literally so much to love about zutara that I’ll drive myself a little crazy trying to compile all the ways they’re similar. (Just gonna say that at this exact moment I went back to add more similarities.... so okay then)

Once they’ve reconciled, we see how all of these things only lend themselves to a deeper intimacy together than they share with literally anyone else. There’s a steady partnership that positions them as the mom/dad of the gaang, while also providing the support necessary to allow the other to not have to carry so much responsibility. A lot of zutaras will point out how zuko is actually depicted doing the more domestic chores that are normally relegated to Katara once he joins the gaang, since the others in the group are two 12-year-olds and sokka. The one that sticks out the most is how he makes tea for the group and then serves them, while Katara is able to just relax with her friends around the fire. Fanon expands upon this a lot to Zuko helping with the laundry or the cooking or whatever else needs doing since he, as a once-refugee, is used to doing his own domestic tasks. Before Zuko joined, Katara was the one mothering everyone, sewing for them, cooking for them, etc. She’s always tending to the needs of the group, and that includes emotionally. She does the emotional labor for the gaang 99% of the time, but when she’s the one falling apart, she’s usually doing it alone and without the comfort that she normally provides for others. Until Zuko. And that’s before they’re even friends.

Which is WHY people romanticize the catacombs of Ba Sing Se so much. Katara is verbally attacking Zuko out of her own righteous anger but also her own prejudice when Zuko, surprisingly, chooses to be vulnerable with her. He’s been on a journey that’s opened his eyes a bit, but he’s never actively chosen to expose the rawest parts of his past to anyone. But for some reason he chooses to do that with Katara of all people. While she’s yelling at him. He sees her humanity, and for once can look past his prejudice and empathize with her. And this time, when she breaks down, she gets to be comforted. Katara normally talks about her mother when she’s trying to explain to someone else that she sees and understands they’re pain, as a form of comfort to them. Here, Zuko uses the exact same tactic. He sees her and he understands. And for zuko? He’s not being shut down. He’s allowed to articulate his pain regarding his mother without being ignored and made to internalize it, and he’s allowed to process how he feels about his scar out loud without being told that he deserved it. And then he lets her touch his scar, something we’ve seen him actively avoid before. He’s completely open to her and she’s completely open to him and all it took was one five minute conversation. She was about to use the little bit of Spirit water that she had, that she was saving for something Important, to heal the scar that still daily causes him pain just because they had, somehow, connected.

Plus there’s the whole parallel to the star-crossed lovers forbidden from one another, a war divides their people—

And then zuko messes up, he regresses, he gets what he wants and he HATES it. And the sense of justice he had as a child has been restored to him against his will and he can’t think of anything he wants to do more than the Right Thing, so he joins team avatar. Before he does that though, we get to see his relationship with Mai, which is where comparison really comes in. And what we see is Zuko, fresh off of his encounter with Katara in the catacombs, trying to be emotionally honest with Mai... and getting shut down and dismissed. Which is just how Mai is and it’s fine, but not for Zuko. Still, he keeps trying, and he keeps getting ignored or scoffed at or yelled at. Which is really a larger symbol for how he doesn’t fit in his old life anymore, but again that’s about thematic cohesion. He tries to articulate his anxieties about returning home, he tries to make romantic gestures, he tries to explain how morally conflicted he’s feeling—and Mai diverts to some kind of physical affection to shut him up and a parting comment that is pretty much always, in essence, “I don’t wanna talk about this.” So they don’t. On the other hand, once zuko and Katara are friends, we see him again emotionally distraught and caught up in his anxieties about facing Iroh, and it’s Katara who comes to him and listens to him and comforts and encourages him.

Similarly, we have Aang clamming up and getting uncomfortable whenever Katara shows any negative emotion, usually resulting in him making excuses or running away. Or, in the case of the Southern Raiders, lecturing her on how she needs to just let go of her anger about her mother’s murder. People have talked this episode to death and usually better than I ever could, so imma... keep it brief. There’s a serious disconnect between Aang and Katara in his ability to empathize with Katara and her needs that has her tamping down her vulnerability and amping up her anger. He tells her that he was able to forgive his people’s genocide and appa’s kidnapping (petnapping? Theft??), which is blatantly not true but also not an entirely equal parrallel to Katara’s situation, and continues making these little remarks throughout the episode. But it’s Zuko that Katara opens up to. It’s with him that she’s able to talk about the most traumatic day of her life, and it’s with him that she’s able to get the closure she needs, cementing their bond as friends and partners. This disagreement between Aang and Katara is then... never resolved. They just never bring it up and hear what the other is saying.

There’s a fic called The Portraits of Ember Island that has a line that so completely sums up the heart of the matter for why people love their dynamic. For context, zuko has woken up early to help Katara with the cooking and they spend the whole time just letting one another talk, and zuko stops to ask why she always just lets him talk. And so she stops to ask why he’s always helping, and it goes as follows:

There’s just... so much mutual support! Trust! Intimacy!! And it just continues like that from the Southern Raiders on, listening to each other, advising each other, watching each other’s backs! And then! Literally saving each other’s lives!! I will never be over the last Agni kai. Not ever. Zuko may have been willing to jump in front of lightning for anyone, but he actually did it for Katara. And in a show, that’s the thing that really matters. It’s a fulfilled trope usually exclusively applied to romantic pairings, and it ended up applying to Zuko and Katara. And then she ran out into the middle of a fight with tunnel vision just to get to him.

Also!! Also Zuko pushing Katara out of the way of the falling rocks at the Western Air Temple!! And Katara catching him as he fell from the war balloon that he fought Azula on!! Before they’re even getting along, they’re the ones reaching for each other. They come to this place of equal ground, as partners, who watch each other’s backs, call each other out but still listen attentively and understand, and provide the support that the other has been sorely lacking up until they knew each other (whether that be from lack of effort or lack of understanding from others, or an unwillingness to accept it for themselves).

Then, trailing along under the surface of this, we see the themes of the show totally embodied by Zuko and Katara as individuals and in their relationship to one another. There’s a YouTuber, sneezyreviews, who has a, like, 2-hour explanation on why she not only loves zutara but also believes that their endgame would’ve actually elevated the writing of atla to new levels particularly because of thematic cohesion and resolved character arcs. It’s the zutara dissertation I never knew I needed, and it’s funny and eloquent and effective, so I’m just going to sum up her section on thematic cohesion to the best of my abilities and then link it for whenever you have the time. And I HIGHLY recommend it, especially if you want a full understanding of what makes zutara so great and gives it such longevity.

Guru pathik has a line that goes something like this: separation is an illusion; things that seem different are just two parts of the same whole. Iroh also tells Zuko something similar: balance and strength are achieved when the different nations come together and influence one another and celebrate what makes them each unique. And this lesson is a massive central arc that both Zuko and Katara go through, moving past a black-and-white, good guys-vs-bad guys, us-vs-them mentality and into a greyer, more nuanced view of the world. Zuko sees the fire nation from an entirely new perspective and while he still loves and hopes for his nations future, he surrenders his blind loyalty to them in exchange for an unflinching loyalty to peace and love. Katara too had to come to terms with the fact that cruel people exist in the earth kingdom and water tribes, while some fire nation citizens are just regular, kind people who also need and deserve to have someone speak on their behalf. And this is honed in directly on how they view each other. They grow in their individual journeys to be open to the humanity in the other and then, once they’ve found that, they’re able to grow more in compassion for others in a beautiful feedback loop. And this is all matched in the symbolism repeatedly and intentionally associated with them in canon: sun and moon, fire and water, yin and yang, Oma and Shu who found love despite their warring nations. Their individual arcs are completed in each other and complement the themes of atla beautifully.

The canon pairs... just don’t. Which, again, is fine. But the very things that give atla longevity and popularity are anchored in zutara. Kat@ang doesn’t accomplish this. They’re... nice. Sweet. Especially when you erase a good portion of their interactions in S3. It could’ve been just a sweet love story. (Personally, the dynamic between toph and aang accomplish the same thing that zutara does, with complementary personalities that fulfill the theme of opposites blending in harmony) M@iko, on the other hand, is less sweet but I think wasn’t even supposed to last. Zuko’s relationship with Mai seems to represent his relationship with his old life as a whole. He can’t be emotionally vulnerable, he’s goaded into abusing his privileges, his agency and opinions aren’t respected. They just don’t have common ground with which to discuss anything that matters, so they don’t. As far as themes, the relationship doesn’t fit with atla. It’s zuko returning to and sticking with what is (on the surface) like him, what’s expected. Fire nation with fire nation. Fluid water bender with the flexible air bender. Like with like, separated from what is different and challenging and complementary.

And all of these things combined of course lead to the potential for the ship. I don’t know how familiar you are with the post-atla canon but... well, miss “I will never turn my back on people who need me”, miss “I don’t want to heal! I want to fight!” ends up living quietly in the SWT as a designated healer who turns a blind eye to the water tribe civil war happening right outside her front door. Which can be fine! People change! Some people just wanna stay inside. I just wanna stay inside! But the potential future for zutara is so much more satisfying, with Katara becoming the most unconventional Fire Lady the uppity old cads who are stuck on the old ways have ever seen. Fanon has her serving as a voice for the other nations within a kingdom at the point of its biggest political upheaval, as a confidante to Zuko who can actually help him while he’s trying to figure out how to move forward and make reparations. They have the opportunity, together, to accomplish what they both have set on their hearts to fight for: positive change that lends itself to harmony and balance. And the steambabies! A popular headcanon is that their firstborn daughter, the crown princess, is actually a waterbender, which causes such an uproar among the people who are adamantly clinging to the old ways. It’s just a future full of potential to be forces for good together, full of trust, intimacy, joy. The exact era of peace and love and balance that zuko announces that he intends to ring in with the start of his reign as Fire Lord is, again, magnified by the very personal zutara relationship. And we love to see it.

tl;dr zutara isn’t for everyone. Some people just don’t vibe with it. Some are nostalgic. Some love the canon they grew up with. Some have been disappointed for years. Some just see themselves in other characters and want their happiness instead. Whatever the reason, that’s fine. But for me, I love the way these two, from the moment they give each other a fair chance, are able to lower their walls and prejudices to see the other for the kindred spirits they are. They see each other’s humanity, and their response is to pour out love and support and compassion. I love that they’re a power couple in battle. I love the symbolism and, honestly, soulmatism that colors their every interaction. I love that they embody the whole storyline of atla in their relationship and how it develops, which is notably why their seasonal arcs always culminate in each finale with how they relate to one another. I love that zuko adopting a waterbending move is what actually saves his life and then katara’s. I love the chemistry! And I love the future they could’ve had, instead of the ones they were given.

So, in conclusion: I just think they’re neat and I hope you do too, at least a little bit. Even if it’s just respectfully from a disinterested distance cause you do you. And now here is the video I mentioned. I’m sorry this post got so long and then I gave you an even longer homework assignment, but I can’t recommend it enough. She says it all better than I can.

youtube

#zutara #atla #zutara rant #like really the way the canon relationships were written throughout s3 #it would’ve been more believable for zutara to happen #or at least be hinted at #all of the major issues presented in those relationship were dug up extensively and then... never resolved #and then they just slapped some kisses on a screen and said ‘there all better’#and we just kinda had to say ‘oh ok guess it’s all better then’#this got long I’m sorry #I wrote it all out and then tumblr ate 2/3 of it #which is why it took so long #and what I’ve written now doesn’t even match what I had before #because there’s too much to say about why I love zutara #and the stuff I left out the first time is what came out this time #rip to my original thoughts but this post is different #anyway that’s why this took so long #and I should’ve just made a PowerPoint...#I can do that too if you’d rather not read all of this lol #I won’t be offended #this is incoherent #Alia rambles uselessly #also hoping this doesn’t end up in any wrong tags because I don’t wanna step on toes lol #it’s not anti!! it’s just critical #in a compare/contrast way #I can pinpoint the moment when I started trying to rewrite my points from memory #because everything gets shorter and more succinct #like... I really said all that??? sounds fake and I don’t remember it anyway so here’s the condensed version #with no!! smooth!!! transitions!!!!#also why am I so lazy with proper grammar over text

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