#how to crack exam last minutes

[lonesomedotmp3]

oh I love feeling somewhat hopeful and excited about academia again :( I just have to get through this hellish year and then next year should be so much better. KNOCK ON WOOD.

[saetoru]

✩ ‧₊˚ ✩。MEET UGLY — GOJO SATORU. (rich boy! au)

contents. college au!, rich boy! gojo, first meets, slight meet ugly but mainly he’s just annoying, established relationship in second scene, banter + fluff, kissies for da princess boy <3

dating gojo has always been, and will always be, the biggest unforeseen plot twist of your life.

the first time you encounter gojo satoru, it’s in literature class. he laughs with that dark haired friend of his a bit too loudly in the back while you try to share your thoughts on the reading from last night—it’s not that you particularly care for the class, but you’re trying to get the participation points, and you don’t want some slacking jackass to ruin that for you.

you throw him a glare over your shoulder, making him pause and blink before he shoots you a cheshire grin. you swear you hear a chuckle from the distance as you turn and continue speaking.

the second time you stumble across him is in line at the campus coffee shop. it’s the first day of the semester, and you have class in fifteen minutes across campus, but you’re tired. incredibly so—working shifts back to back late into the night is not doing you any favors, but you have to afford gas money and textbooks somehow.

you need caffeine, and you need it quick so you can make it to class on time.

except the tall, snow-haired stranger in front of you is making that very difficult as he takes forever and lists his wildly long list of syrups and add ons for his drink—seriously, who can even stomach a drink like that? you crinkle your nose as you imagine how sweet it must be. what irritates you more is that he pays for his ridiculously expensive drink that’s far too sweet for eight am with a black card. you glare daggers into the back of his head, wishing you could crack his skull in two with your stare alone.

and then he turns, raises a brow as he stares at you calculatingly—and then his lips turn into a grin as he seems to recognize you. great, you think.

“hey, weren’t you in lit class with me last semester?” he asks, making you sigh as you purse your lips.

“yes. now please move, i need to order and get to class.”

“she curved that final exam pretty generously, i thought i was going to fail—”

“i’ll take a large double shot,” you mumble, ignoring him as you place your order. you can feel his stare from the side as you pay.

“that’s pretty strong, don’t you think?” he asks, making you throw a glare at him from over your shoulder, eyes narrowed into dangerous slits.

it only seems to amuse him more, making you grit your teeth—how irritating could someone even manage to be? there’s got to be some sort of record he’s holding for most nerves he’s ticked off within the span of two meets.

“well, assuming from the fact that you’re a college student with a black credit card,” you huff, “you probably haven’t had to work a single night shift in your life.”

you put away your own card as you speak—one that’s not black, and one that’s going to have a very high bill due soon from the textbooks you’ll have to purchase.

“i like you,” he grins, “you’re funny. how about i—”

you cut him off again, done interacting for the morning. “have a nice day,” you say curtly, walking over to the wait area for your drink.

he seems entirely amused by your attitude—which only pisses you off more. does everything seem to make his lips quirk into that annoying smirk of his? and why is it so handsome? what a waste of such a gorgeous face to be paired with such an insufferable personality. and, because the universe hates you, he waits around for you even after he gets his drink, following you out the door when you grab yours and leave.

“how about i take you out for coffee tomorrow?” he grins, “i’ll pay with that black card you like so much.”

what an asshole—you hope he gets hit by a car and loses a few teeth.

“no.”

“c’mon, it’ll be fun—”

“no.”

“okay,” he chuckles, “feisty. i like it.”

and then, as you turn the corner, he turns with you, walking leisurely behind you as he sips that disgustingly sugary drink of his.

“what the fuck,” you hiss, “why are you following me?”

“i’m not,” he says innocently, “why are you following me?”

where are all the cars in the streets when you need them? and why haven’t they hit him yet?

“i’m walking ahead of you jackass,” you huff, “how can i be following you?”

“oh yeah?” he takes a few strides with those abnormally long legs of his, walking ahead of you as he shoots you an amused grin over his shoulder. “now you’re following me. does that mean you changed your mind about that date?”

“you wish,” you seethe.

a few more steps, and he walks into the same building as you. great—you’ll likely be running into him every morning then. a few more steps and he’s turning the hall to the same hall as you. wonderful—you’ll probably have to deal with him to the walk to class too. a few more steps, and then you realize he’s entering the same class that you’re entering.

fucking fantastic. just what you needed. absolutely divine luck—the universe has really handed you the largest pair of clown shoes it could find.

of course he of all people would be in class with you for another semester—and he seems to brighten considerably when he realizes he’s in your class too, because his grin widens even more.

“well, look at that,” he says brightly, “you followed me all the way to class. we might as well be seatmates.”

“don’t even think about sitting near me,” you warn, “i’m going to go that way. you go that way.”

he does not go the way you point—instead, he chuckles and plops down right beside you. how on earth could someone be so easy to despise? of all the empty seats in the entirety of the lecture hall, he just has to choose the seat right next to you.

for a moment, you contemplate skipping this class entirely and trying to teach yourself everything before the tests just so you don’t have to see him—you’ve done that enough times, it shouldn’t be too hard. but then you remember that this course is notorious for having a semester long paired project that weighs for a hefty amount of your final grade—skipping is not an option.

so, with veins ready to pop any second, and an oncoming migraine, you sit through all of lecture trying to ignore the absolute worst guy you’ve ever met. not only is he rude and obnoxious and overly confident to a fault—but he’s also rich and spoiled and privileged to live in a realm entirely separate from your reality.

you think you might just hate him.

you’re broken from your thoughts when you hear your name as the professor lists the pairs she’s already made from the roster for the semester’s project. this is great, you think, she’ll call someone’s name, and you’ll have that as an excuse to sit with them and avoid the nuisance sat beside you.

everything is fine. you’ll be free in just a few moments. it’ll all be over soon.

“gojo satoru,” she calls, “if you could raise your hand so your partner knows who to find after class.”

then, as if in slow motion, the very same guy who ruined your morning raises his hand, looking over at you absolutely enthused as his eyes sparkle through the top of his sunglasses—which, only an asshole would wear sunglasses indoors.

“hey partner,” he chuckles, “how about coffee tomorrow to discuss our project?”

—————

satoru likes to think that even with his unfortunate start with you on the wrong foot, he’s managed a steady relationship with you.

you don’t tell him to get hit by a car anymore—instead, now you kiss his forehead before bed every night, hold his hand and swing his arm with yours when you’re out, cuddle him after long days and talk about life, and sometimes—when he’s been extra good, you might even do other activities with him that include a whole lot of intimacy and exclude a whole lot of clothing.

he likes to think you’re pretty in love with him—and he’s proud to claim himself as your adorable, sweet, very handsome and extremely funny boyfriend. although, you don’t really ever call him all that, but he’s fairly confident you think it, and that’s close enough.

“baby,” gojo pokes your arm from his spot on your lap, “on a scale of one to ten, how cute would you say i am?”

“an eleven when you shut up and let me work,” you mumble, stroking his hair with one hand and doing calculus problems with the other.

he pouts, huffing in disbelief.

“you know, if you keep taking me for granted, you might lose me,” he says petulantly.

it earns a snort from you as you give him an amused look.

“toru, i think your mom would pay me to get back together with you if we ever broke up.”

“she would not,” he gasps, watching as you bite your lip to keep from laughing.

“remember our first fight? you practically starved yourself in your room,” you giggle, “she had to beg me to come talk to you so you’d eat.”

“that’s not true! i had kitkats and coke zero in my room,” he defends himself, crossing his arms as he sits up. “i was fine.”

“you definitely cried yourself to sleep,” you snicker, “you’re hopeless without me.”

“i am just fine without you,” he lies through his teeth, turning away from you as he tilts his head up indignantly.

“remember when you couldn’t even last a week without me while i was studying for finals? and then your mom had to call and beg me again to spend time with you?”

“that’s not—”

“admit it, toru,” you grin cheekily, pinching his nose as you chuckle, “you’d probably die if we ever broke up.”

“and you’d be fine?” he asks incredulously—he’s almost distressed at the idea, staring at you in slight hurt that makes you laugh before setting your calculus homework aside.

you grab his arm and pull him into your side, kissing his head as he slumps onto your chest.

“i don’t know, i don’t think i’d mind watching a mopey satoru beg me to take him back.”

“you don’t deserve me,” he grumbles, “i deserve to be loved and cherished. i’m a catch.”

“i bet you’d make that ugly face of yours when you cry,” you tease, making him look up at you with an offended gasp.

“i’ll have you know i’m exceptionally pretty when i cry. the waterworks have gotten me loads of things from my mom—i’m irresistible.”

“you’d probably be on your knees in seconds,” you continue to poke fun at him, “please take me back. i’m nothing without you, baby,” you mock his voice, giggling as he glares at you unimpressed.

“now you’re just being a bully. do you even love me?”

“i do,” you grin softly, pecking his cheek, “i love you a ton. you know that.”

“you don’t act like it,” he grumbles.

you laugh, hugging him tighter as your fingers slip into his hair again. sometimes, you think you should be shocked you’re here—laying in bed with gojo satoru and kissing his cheeks as he pouts. you of the past might just kill you of the present if you saw yourself now….but something about gojo is charming enough that you can overlook the very annoying first impression you had.

enough that maybe….well, maybe you might also be a bit hopeless without him—but you’ll never tell him that.

something tells you he knows, though, when he wraps a strong arm around you and pulls you impossibly closer, kissing the corner of your lips as he grins.

“what about that time you got soooo jealous?” he grins, “we weren’t even together yet. and remember that time you begged my mom to take home baby pictures of me? you’re obsessed,” he says proudly, “i would be too. i’m adorable.”

“you’re a pain is what you are,” you mutter.

“i love you too,” he chuckles, burying his head into your shoulder.

you grin, the curves of your lips painted with love as they find his forehead, pressing delicate kisses to the skin. maybe being paired for a semester long project with the annoying rich boy in your class wasn’t so bad—maybe you owe finding the softest love you’ve ever had to the strict and unpleasant professor who gave you an A- when you definitely deserved an A.

“and how are you so sure i love you?” you ask playfully. he rolls his eyes, grabbing your hand and lacing your fingers with his.

“because you haven’t hit me with your car yet,” he bites back, making you laugh brightly.

plssss i want him so bad i cannot take it anymore every day without him feels like pins and needles in my skin it’s utter agony i feel like my life’s meaning has been stripped from me i feel like my lungs and heart both burn from the lack of oxygen i feel like i am but an empty shell with no soul lost and wandering the planet searching for a reason to go on

ps. if you have been reading along w rb! gojo i hope you caught some of the references to old drabbles ;)

[pin-k-ink]

ohmygodohmygod i absolutely LOVED your kuroo fic!!!

and i’ve an idea for another one if you wanna write it. how about kuroo with a really clumsy classmate of his, and they both inevitably end up in really awkward and borderline sexual situations because of it? kinda like a crack fic

convenient // kuroo tetsuro

tw ⇢ clumsy!reader, highly suggestive content, mild sexual tension, fluff, sexual jokes, kuroo is kind of a perv

wc ⇢ 5.1k

a/n: this was heavily inspired by prison school for some reason (yes i watched it 💀)

The first time it happened, it really was just an honest mistake - one that earned Kuroo Tetsuro a well-deserved slap across the face. In his defense, he had been utterly oblivious, mind preoccupied with an upcoming English exam. But that was still no excuse for his careless actions.

He was headed to the library, books and notes tucked under one arm, when a faint shuffling sound drew his gaze upwards. There you were, standing atop a narrow ladder while stretching to reach a book on the upper shelves. Your skirt rode dangerously high with the effort, teetering just shy of outright indecency.

Kuroo felt his eyes widen as he froze mid-step, suddenly hyper-aware of the sleek lines of your legs extending from the rumpled plaid hem. He knew he should look away, avert his stare like any decent guy. But something insidious seemed to glue his feet to the floor, leaving him gawking shamelessly.

That's when disaster struck - literally.

One minute you were straining on tiptoe, back arched enticingly as you strained for your target book. The next, your knee brushed the ladder rung with a faint clang of disturbance. Like a switched had been flipped, the whole structure began wavering treacherously beneath your weight.

You let out a strangled yelp of surprise, arms wheeling wildly in a frantic bid to regain your balance. But it was too late, your slight figure already pitching backwards in a clumsy free-fall towards the unforgiving floor.

Pure instinct propelled Kuroo into action at that moment. Letting his books and papers scatter, he lunged forward with the lightning reflexes of a seasoned athlete. His arms locked around your trim waist just as your feet left the ladder rungs entirely, effectively folding you in half to break your plummet.

You collapsed against his chest in a breathless heap, wavy tresses askew and skirt bundled scandalously around your hips from the abrupt tumble. Kuroo's throat went dry as he found himself confronted with an utterly unobstructed view of your lacy black panties, tight across the supple flesh of your ass and leaving precious little to the imagination.

A tremor rocked his muscles before Kuroo could fully process the provocative situation. His lips parted on a low, strangled sound - was that a whistle or a whimper? - while you stirred groggily in his arms.

That's when realization finally dawned in your wide eyes. You took one look at the flustered volleyball captain gaping down at you and the disheveled state of your uniform, and let out an earsplitting yelp of mortification.

"You...you pervert!"

The resounding crack of your palm across Kuroo's cheek rang out like a gunshot. He reeled back, stunned, as you leapt from his arms and frantically rearranged your rumpled skirt. With a last scandalized glare, you scooped up your books and scurried away down the hall, leaving a flabbergasted Kuroo cradling his stinging jaw.

As he stooped to collect his scattered belongings, the dark-haired captain could only shake his head ruefully, pointedly ignoring the snickers of passing students. He supposed he deserved that one.

Though admittedly, politely keeping his eyes averted would be a monumental challenge going forward if you insisted on being so...distracting around him.

Little did Kuroo know, that was only the beginning of many chaotic encounters with you to come.

After that mortifying library incident, Kuroo thought he would at least get a brief respite from any further awkward run-ins with you. He figured you'd be actively avoiding him out of lingering embarrassment for the foreseeable future. The captain wasn't quite sure whether to feel relieved or oddly disappointed by that prospect.

However, fate seemed to have other plans entirely when it came to tormenting Kuroo with suggestive happenstance around you. If anything, the unlucky encounters only escalated from that point onwards.

It happened again only a few days later. Kuroo was making his way to afternoon English practice after lessons when a commotion from a nearby classroom gave him pause. He distinctly heard a muffled yelp of surprise followed by a clatter like someone knocking into a desk.

Curiosity piqued, he backtracked and peered through the open door to find you in the midst of a graceless struggle. From his vantage point, it looked like you'd caught your knee on a protruding desk lip in the middle of gathering your belongings, upending everything to the floor.

"Need some help?" The words slipped out before Kuroo could reconsider.

You jolted at the sound of his voice, clearly not expecting company. Whipping around revealed your position - bent over at the waist, arms crossed over the desktop as you'd been trying in vain to catch your spilled notebooks and papers before they scattered.

Kuroo felt his throat go instantly dry at the view you presented. With your torso tilted parallel to the ground, he had an unobstructed line of sight directly down the stretched vee of your blouse to the lacy enclosure of your bra. He immediately averted his stare with a sharp inhalation, but the wiggling shift of your body as you tried to right yourself didn't do him any favors.

"O-Oh, hey Kuroo!" You squeaked out, voice pitched just a bit too high as you straightened hastily. You seemed to belatedly realize the disheveled state of your clothes and ran flustered hands over your rioting skirt. "No, I'm okay! Just a bit of a tussle with gravity, as usual."

You laughed in that slightly too high, breathless cadence that told Kuroo you were just as aware of the precarious display as he'd been. Still, he appreciated your nonchalant attempt to smooth over the awkwardness as you bent to collect the remainder of your fallen supplies.

"You sure?" He risked another glance, disappointed satisfied to find your skirt had returned to normal propriety if still slightly rumpled. "I can grab the janitor if you need any cleaning supplies or anything..."

"No, no! Really, I'm fine. But uh, thanks for the offer." You gave a tight smile, clutching your armful of books to your chest.

Kuroo nodded slowly, unable to resist one last sweeping look over your flustered appearance - wild hair askew, cheeks dusted with pink, chest still rising and falling a bit rapidly. Yep...you were still cute as hell, even after catching him gawking like a perverted creep twice now.

"Don't mention it. Just figured I'd lend a hand after providing such quality-eye entertainment lately." He tossed you a wink, mouth kicking up at the corner as your blush deepened.

"You're terrible," you groaned, rolling your eyes dramatically. But he could've sworn your lips twitched towards a smile as you spun on your heel and strutted from the classroom with as much dignity as you could muster.

Kuroo watched your departing form fondly, scratching at the nape of his neck. "That's me," he agreed under his breath, unable to resist one last admiring glance towards the sway of your hips.

Yes, he would definitely have to be more careful about where he let his gaze stray going forward. Especially if you insisted on continually providing such tantalizing...viewing opportunities for him.

The empty classroom should have been a safe haven for you to gather your thoughts during your free period. With no other students around, you had seized the opportunity to get some fresh air by cracking open one of the large windows overlooking the courtyard.

In retrospect, leaning your entire upper body out of that window may have been ill-advised.

You had been so absorbed in the tranquil view outside, relishing the crisp breeze skating across your face, that you failed to notice your skirt catching and riding up precariously on the window's edge behind you. By the time you registered the precarious situation, it was already too late.

"What the...?" You frowned, twisting your torso in an attempt to dislodge yourself.

But the more you struggled, the more hopelessly ensnared you became - skirt now thoroughly rumpled and bunched around your hips, leaving your backside shockingly exposed to the empty classroom behind you in a way that would make any vice principal blush.

You squeezed your eyes shut, cheeks burning as you tried in vain to somehow wrangle the stubborn fabric free without outright removing the entire garment and mooning the entire courtyard below. If only you had a personal contortionist on hand...

The telltale creak of the door opening behind you nearly made you swallow your tongue.

"Hey, have you seen my--" The deep timbre of Kuroo's unmistakable voice faltered. "Oh. Uh...need a hand?"

You could practically hear the poorly suppressed grin in his tone without even turning around - not that you could move much in your current trapped position. Your mortification mounted by the second, shoulders ticking up towards your burning ears.

"Don't just stand there!" You hissed through gritted teeth, face on proverbial fire. "Get over here and help me already!"

"I don't know, you seem to have a pretty good view as is," Kuroo drawled, bitter amusement coating every syllaible. But you heard his footsteps start to cross the classroom regardless.

"Don't you dare look, or so help me--"

"I'm just here to provide whatever assistance a gentleman can for a stuck damsel," he interjected solemnly, though you could still hear the laughter staining his tone.

Another teasing brush of warm fingertips skating up your exposed thigh made you suck in a sharp breath, muscles taut. But then Kuroo was deftly tugging at the tangled fabric, trying to work it free from where it had fully wedged against the unforgiving metal window frame.

You squeezed your eyes shut tighter as he crouched behind you, hot puffs of his steady breathing ghosting along the back of your bare thighs. The tips of his nails occasionally scraped lightly against your sensitized skin whenever he shifted his grip for better leverage.

Each inadvertent caress sent tingles of heat blossoming across your body, completely at odds with the unrelenting chill of the open window pressed against your ribs. You worried your lower lip between your teeth, trying to stomp down the unwelcome flutters plaguing your gut and attribute them solely to your mortifying predicament.

"Almost there," Kuroo grunted, leaning in so close you could smell the crisp, clean scent of his laundry detergent and body wash. "Just need to...tug this bit..."

"Wait, no--!"

Your panicked warning was too late. With a sharp yank on the stubborn fabric, both of you inadvertently went tumbling backwards in a graceless heap - your skirt ripping free only for the rest of you to promptly crash down squarely on Kuroo's unsuspecting face.

You couldn't quite muffle the startled yelp that rattled up from your chest as you landed in a sprawl of flailing limbs. One blink and suddenly you found yourself pitched backwards, legs splayed shamelessly as your butt settled...right on top of Kuroo's stunned features, mashing against his mouth and nose.

The smothered grunt of surprise punched out from under you was enough to send you flailing away with a choked shriek of mortification, scuttling across the floor like a deranged crab. Your face felt like it was legitimately searing clean off your skull, a condition likely mirrored by Kuroo's own rapidly purpling complexion.

"Ohmygod, Kuroo!" You wheezed out, one trembling hand lifting reflexively to cover your gaping mouth as he finally levered upright. "I am so, sosorry! Are you okay? Please, please tell me you can breathe!"

The captain dragged in a harsh gulp of air, chest heaving, before slowly lifting his burning gaze to your stricken one. Despite the deep flush marring his features, Kuroo's eyes glittered suspiciously.

"Well..." he rasped out with a lopsided, infinitely amused smirk. "Can't say I was expecting that kind of face-sitting from you today, but I can't really complain about the view..."

You released a mortified squawk, yanking the hem of your skirt down with furious tugs. There was no way this wasn't some fresh new hell custom designed by the vindictive heavens just to torment your battered pride around Kuroo Tetsuro.

Honestly, at this rate, you wouldn't be surprised if the boy ended up permanently bowlegged with how many compromising visuals you'd inadvertently provided him.

Kuroo sucked in a deep, steadying breath as he watched you scurry from the classroom, skirt mercifully back in place and face still blazing crimson. He pressed the heels of his palms against his eyes, desperately trying to un-see the compromising visuals now seared into his brain.

There was simply no unseeing the full, unobstructed view he'd gotten of your lace-edged panties and plump backside when you'd so brazenly...well, sat on his face in your wild scramble. His cheeks flushed anew just recalling it - the softness and warmth pressed against his lips, the sweet floral scent overwhelming his senses.

He shouldn't be thinking those kinds of things about you. Kuroo was keenly aware you were just his animated, disaster-prone classmate who always seemed to catch the brunt of humiliating mishaps whenever he was around. Lingering too long on the intimate peeks he'd been granted felt like a violation of the unspoken boundaries between you two.

And yet...

Kuroo found his tongue instinctively swiping across his lower lip, unconsciously chasing some lingering remnant of your taste and scent. The memory of having your feminine curves crushed against his face, even if unintentionally, made his throat run dry with unexpected yearning. He couldn't deny the spark of illicit heat that quickly blazed low in his belly.

With a groan, Kuroo scrubbed both hands through his perpetually tousled hair, tugging at the roots in mild self-admonishment. These were dangerous thoughts to entertain, no matter how attractive and alluring you were as a person. Especially given how mortified you always seemed by the accidental incidents that kept transpiring.

You clearly weren't trying to tease or torment him on purpose. If anything, you seemed just as eager to flee from the awkward tension as he was to diffuse it with irreverent jokes or nonchalant shrugs. No, the burden was his alone to bear - this one-sided battle to wrangle his steadily growing interest every time your bodies collided in such intimate, pulse-spiking ways.

Decision made, Kuroo rose to his feet with a grunt, gathering his scattered belongings. Blowing out a harsh breath, he willed away the lingering flashes of tempting visuals and straightened his spine. Yes, from now on he would simply have to be more vigilant about avoiding you as much as possible. The less he let himself get pulled into these compromising, hormone-addling situations, the better his self-control would remain intact.

It was a sound strategy, he decided with a decisive nod. One that would hopefully spare you both from any further prolonged torment or humiliation down the line.

At least, that was the theory. But as Kuroo quickly learned over the next few days and encounters, the universe seemed to have vastly different plans in regard to continually tormenting him...and you.

It happened during one of their last shared classes of the week - a study hall period Kuroo typically used for reviewing game recordings or getting a jumpstart on his homework. He had just opened up his laptop in the back corner of the room to cue up the latest match footage when an odd scuffling noise drew his attention.

Craning his neck towards the broad windows lining the far wall revealed you standing precariously on your tiptoes atop a wobbly chair, arms stretched high overhead as you attempted to tug open the painted seam where the glass panes met. Kuroo frowned as he watched your feet slip and clothes rustle with the effort. Just what were you doing?

Another loud thud followed by a growl of frustration was all the prompting he needed. With a quiet sigh, Kuroo pushed back from his seat and began weaving between the desks, hands tucked casually into his pockets. Might as well get this over with before your usual antics ended in another cringe-worthy incident for them both...

"Need a hand down there, short stuff?" He called out in a low, lazy drawl as he approached.

You startled at the unexpected voice, petite form going rigid against the window. Kuroo watched your shoulders lift in a sharp inhalation before you slowly risked peering over one toned shoulder, likely looking for the source of the amused rumble.

"Kuroo?" You squeaked out warily, like just speaking his name might somehow summon a fresh round of mortifying events. "What are you doing over here?"

"Probably the same thing you are," he replied with a one-shouldered shrug, gesturing up at the window with his chin. "Except, you know, without the hazardous chair-scaling routine. Don't you think it'd be easier if you just asked for help rather than risking life and limb like that?"

If looks could incinerate, he surely would have combusted on the spot from the narrow-eyed glare you shot his way. But after a long, weighted pause, you finally seemed to relent with a quiet huff.

"Fine, but you'd better not just be offering as some lame excuse to look up my skirt again."

The blunt dig might have landed more soundly if your cheeks weren't already pinkening, giving away your embarrassment. Kuroo simply arched one thick brow, catching his lower lip between his teeth to tamp down the reflexive grin trying to emerge.

"Wouldn't dream of it," Kuroo replied easily, holding up both hands in mock surrender. "I'm an innocent bystander here, just trying to lend my services to a damsel flirting with danger."

You leveled him with one final skeptical look before huffing out a reluctant, "Fine. But make it quick before I end up with a concussion or something."

Turning away, you resumed straining on tiptoe, arms outstretched overhead as you blindly grappled for some elusive purchase. Kuroo's gaze was immediately drawn to the wanton stretching pulling your blouse taut against the feminine swell of your chest, outlining your figure in a way that made his mouth go dry.

Clearing his throat roughly, he quickly closed the remaining distance between you and maneuvered himself up onto the chair behind you. His larger frame automatically shielded your bent posture as he reached up past your extended arms to easily unlatch the window's stubborn latch.

The rush of cool evening air that filtered in carried the scent of freshly mown grass and distant woodsmoke, ruffling the loose strands framing your face. You let out a breathless little giggle, grinning over your shoulder up at Kuroo with unguarded delight crinkling your features.

"See? That wasn't so hard, was it?" You teased lightly. "I knew your freakish height would come in handy someday."

Kuroo felt his lips twitch towards a matching smile despite himself. There was just something wildly endearing about the way your nose scrunched when you laughed like that, uninhibited and suffused with mirth. He suddenly found himself in the odd position of fighting off a powerful wave of affection swelling in his chest.

Which is precisely when you chose to twist around fully on the chair, effectively trapping Kuroo between your parted thighs with nowhere to go as you beamed up at him. His breath stuttered in his throat, smile slipping as his abdomen lined up dangerously close to your lower body's soft warmth.

"Thanks for always being around to help me out, by the way," you continued blithely, seemingly unaware of the sudden charged tension. "I really would be a walking hazard without you."

Your words trailed off into another peal of laughter, palms sliding smoothly up Kuroo's chest until they bracketed his shoulders. He could feel the delicate pressure of your fingertips like searing brands through the thin material of his shirt as your gazes locked mere inches apart.

Inside his head, Kuroo's thoughts had devolved into a deafening roar of white noise, every higher brain function shorting out at the proximity of your body heat and sweet, floral scent. All he could focus on was the painted bow of your parted lips, the inviting dip of your collarbones on display beneath your rumpled shirt collar. The burning urge to tilt his head down and taste your smile, to growl and tug you flush against his body, made his fingers twitch convulsively at his sides.

Don't...don't do something stupid and reckless that you'll regret, his voice of reason feebly protested even as your hands slid upwards to cup his jaw with unexpected tenderness. You were so close now that your noses brushed, breath mingling in a humid cloud between your suspended states. Kuroo's heart felt lodged in his throat, pounding staccato against his ribs.

Your thumbs drifted in unconscious, idle strokes along the sharp line of his cheekbones, mesmerizing him further second by second. Instinctively, he bent towards your addictive pull before managing to firmly re-root himself with the last scraps of logic screaming at him to stop.

"That's enough...personal space for today, yeah?" He somehow wrangled enough control to whisper out, the words emerging gritty and strained but underscored with determination. "Why don't we, uh, get you down from there before round two starts sounding fun?"

You blinked rapidly at that, almost as though snapping back to yourself. For a heartbeat, Kuroo could've sworn he glimpsed something like disappointment flickering in your eyes' depths. But then you were nodding brusquely, pulling your hands away to twist back towards the now open window.

The cold rush of oxygen hitting his lungs made Kuroo almost dizzy with a sense of vertigo, like he'd been holding his breath for an eternity underwater. What the hell had just happened? And more alarmingly...why was a part of him wishing it hadn't stopped?

He shook his head to clear the loaded thoughts before resignedly offering you his hands, acting as a brace while you stepped down from the chair. Your fingers curled around his in a warm, tingling grip as you maneuvered yourself to the floor, back deliberately angled away from Kuroo to avert any further...viewing opportunities.

The moment your feet touched down, the odd tension frayed, allowing you both to sink back into familiar patterns and put some merciful distance between your bodies once more.

"Thanks again, Kuroo," you said with a demure smile over one shoulder, brushing past him towards the exit. "See you around sometime soon, I'm sure."

The parting words carried a strange, wistful lilt, warranting another glance from Kuroo's hooded gaze. You didn't linger, simply ambling away from the classroom as effortlessly as you'd arrived, leaving a bewildered captain in your wake.

Kuroo glowered at your retreating back even as something sharp and insistent tugged in his chest at the sight. Whatever this maddening back-and-forth dynamic was between you two, it was rapidly spiraling into something wild and untamed, something that was getting harder and harder to ignore or dismiss...

A growl of mingled frustration rumbled up from the back of his throat before he could stifle it. So much for avoiding temptation and keeping his resolve intact around you. Every time he tried to disengage, the universe seemed to drag you both screaming right back into each other's gravitic pull once more.

Movements taut with consternation, Kuroo sank back into his abandoned desk chair and scrubbed both hands along his face. He couldn't keep doing this endless dance around you, careening between flirtatious banter and breathless disaster without snapping entirely. Something had to give soon before one of you combusted outright.

His palms dug into his eye sockets as a growl rumbled up from somewhere deep in his gut. Yeah...no one ever said being a horny teenage disaster was easy, did they?

The next mishap occurred barely a week later, this time at one of Nekoma's volleyball practices. You had developed a habit of swinging by the gym to catch portions of the team's training sessions whenever your schedule allowed. Kuroo suspected it was equal parts keeping tabs on him and cheering on a couple of your other classmates in the club.

Whatever the reason, he certainly wasn't complaining about the prospect of you watching him glistening with sweat, muscles straining as he launched himself into blistering spikes and ferocious blocks. Even if he adamantly refused to let his gaze linger overlong on your distracting presence courtside.

On this particular evening, the squad was running spike drills, taking turns performing powerful straight-shot hits off the tossed sets. As captain, Kuroo was overseeing the rotations, calling out adjustments and keeping the tempo sharp.

You were perched on the bottom bleacher row, eyes tracking each impactful exchange while gnawing absentmindedly on your thumbnail. Kuroo couldn't resist a few sidelong admiring glances as each powerful leap and arcing jump serve pulled the fabric of his athletic shorts taut against his tensing thighs.

When his turn in the rotation came up again, he was waiting squarely in position, knees bent in preparation to launch upwards and meet the tossed ball. The second coach Naoi’s fingers left the leather, Kuroo exploded off the hardwood into his ferocious spike approach.

Except a sudden shuffling noise off to his left periphery made him falter, just a split-second of lost focus as he whipped his head towards the disturbance. Just in time to see you had risen to your feet and were now bent over at the waist, gripping the railing as you shimmied and shook your hips in some strange calisthenics-esque motion.

Kuroo choked on his own inhale as he inadvertently tracked the mesmerizing movements, torn between drinking in the wanton swish of your skirt tails and avoiding a deadly incoming projectile straight to his face. His abort in midair was clumsy, causing him to land wrong and crumple gracelessly to the varnished court in an undignified sprawl.

"Oof!"

A chorus of snickers rose from his teammates as the commotion made the remaining players pause their drills. Kuroo lay there stunned for a beat, cheeks flushed, before slowly craning his neck to relocate the source of his fall.

You were still bent over the railing, fortunately oblivious to your wardrobe's indecent riding up from the hip shimmies. But you had turned towards the court fully with one hand clutched to your mouth, stifling what Kuroo belatedly recognized as peals of laughter.

"Nice form there, Captain," Yaku called out with a barking laugh.

Kuroo shot the smirking player a dirty look as he levered himself upright, grimacing at the dull throb in his elbow and side from the impromptu meeting with the floor. When he chanced another glance towards the bleachers, you seemed to have gotten your giggling under control but your eyes were still alight with barely restrained mirth.

"Did you just...belly flop during a drill?" You managed to ask between lingering huffs of hilarity.

"I got distracted," Kuroo grumbled, swiping his wrist across his sweaty brow as he straightened to his full height.

Your giggles ramped back up, louder and utterly uninhibited by the audience of players now freely gawking between you two. Kuroo felt a muscle in his jaw tick with repressed...something. Embarrassment, arousal, or some heady combination thereof.

On impulse, he started stalking towards where you were doubled over the railing, each thump of his shoes against the glossy court unnaturally loud. You glanced up just as his shadow fell over you, giggles sputtering off into silence as you registered the abrupt proximity.

Kuroo halted a scant few inches away, towering over you with his lips pressed into a tight line and hair hanging shaggily in his face. Your own pupils blew wider in response to his sudden looming, cheeks flushed and lips still parted mid-laughter.

Without giving his reckless impulse another second to dissipate, Kuroo bent abruptly at the waist, eliminating the final bare slivers of distance between you. His mouth slanted over yours in a heated, insistent press before you could so much as draw a shocked breath.

For one wild, dizzying heartbeat, the entire world collapsed inwards to the shocking velvet glide of his lips coaxing yours into sliding open. The taste of you exploded across his senses, sweet and addictive like warm honey, making Kuroo's head spin.

Then just as abruptly as he lunged in, he broke away, straightening up with a ragged inhale as if surfacing from underwater. Your face was frozen in an expression of pure, open-mouthed shock, the most delicious shade of crimson blooming in your cheeks as you stared up at him with wide, unfocused eyes.

Kuroo licked his tingling lips, tasting the lingering tang of you there. He didn't dare inch closer and risk shattering the suspended tension. Instead, he simply held your stunned, searching gaze with heavy-lidded certainty.

The sudden spirited whooping and raucous catcalls from his oblivious teammates barely penetrated the electric charge now crackling between your locked stares. Kuroo arched one brow slowly, the ghost of a smirk curling the corners of his mouth.

"We'll call it even for now," was all he said, pitching his voice to be heard only by you.

With that parting remark, he spun on his heel and rejoined the still-chortling huddle of players like a man exiting the eye of the storm. But even with his back turned, he could sense the weight of your speechless, burning stare piercing between his shoulderblades.

A shiver traced his spine, raising the fine hairs along his nape. Oh yes, there would be more fallout and confrontation to come over that impulse. Kuroo could practically taste the promise of it lingering on his tongue.

And when the explosion inevitably came...he suddenly couldn't wait.

[14thgalerie]

under pressure

• pairing: theodore nott x reader

• now playing: linger by the cranberries

• word count: 2.4k

• genre: angst

— an old piece that i never finished but i just wanted to post something because my account is so dead. i know exams work differently in hogwarts but for this one, let's just pretend that they do a semestral exam also.

“Theo?” You call from behind him, as you enter the common room where he sits in solitude. 

He makes no sound to acknowledge that he’s heard you, simply continuing to stare off into space. Long, slender fingers rhythmically tapping on his thighs.

Ignoring this, you make yourself comfortable on the nearest available seat, angling your body to face him. “You would not believe what I got for History of Magic!” You excitedly begin and with much enthusiasm, “But first you have to guess!”

Again, a silence greets you. This sparks concern in you since it was very unusual behaviour from him. But before you could ask, he emits a curious hum, still not looking directly at you. “What did you get?”

“You’re no fun.” You playfully jab at him, trying to lighten up the atmosphere. “Anyways! I got an Outstanding! Can you believe that?”

“It would’ve been hilarious if you hadn’t.” Is all he says in a deadpan, hollow voice. “What do you mean by that?” You prod.

“Imagine taking all of my time just for you to fail once again. I would have actually thrown myself off the pitch. ”

The muted glow of the scattered lamps and candles cast shadows on the walls, creating an ambiance that mirrors the strained emotions between you and Theo. The distant sound of chatter and laughter in the dorm rooms only served to accentuate the silence that ensued.

He sighs, “I am tired. Tired of your complaining, of your whines, of your stupidity over such a simple course. You are so excited over this when it isn’t something to be necessarily proud of. You know…” Theo trails off in an amused manner as if he has realised something funny.

“I find it funny how you are sitting all proud and excited about this one exam when in reality, it was all because of me. You wouldn’t have even gotten half of what you had if it weren't for me or with the help of the others. Leeching off of us like a goddamn parasite who hasn’t a mind of her own.”

Words fail you, unable to conjure up even a whisper in your shock. You stand up slowly, breathing out an unsteady exhale.

The words break on your skin like whips, cracking and splitting open still healing wounds. 

“I have never asked you for anything, need I remind you? You were the one who insisted on spending your oh so precious time teaching me. Time and time again, I reassured you that I could do it myself because I didn’t want you to waste it on me. Yet, it was always fine with you and you were adamant on doing it so don’t you dare put this on me now.” You grit out. “I have no idea as to why you are acting like a rabid dog, snapping at me unprovoked, but nothing will ever warrant that kind of behaviour. “ You shake your head sharply, glaring at him from underneath your eyebrow. 

You felt yourself becoming dizzy with panic and anxiety, confusion with the whole situation making it worse by the second. It was spreading so quickly and far into the recesses of your soul that you would fall to your knees if not for the support of the couch behind you.

Not willing to have him see you break down from his nonchalant words that were deliberately chosen to attack your deepest insecurities— unable to understand how it so easily came from the last person you expected it from. You quickly move towards the stairs, ignoring the weak call of your name. 

Tick, tock, tick, tock. 

Seconds—or was it minutes— slipped away since you have made the decision to lock yourself in your room. Leaving the room before everything gets worse. Surrounding yourself with a number of inked parchments that are filled with hundreds of thousands of words, none of which your brain registers. Despite your earnest desire to find solace with work, it was all futile as they were only mere words on paper that held no significance in comparison to what was brewing in your mind.

Instead, an incessant question pesters you. Was it really something to be so excited over? Lost in a silent deep rumination, accompanied only by the rhythmic flutter of an owl's wings as they flew past your open window and the rustling trees to occupy the silence. 

Tick, tock, tick, tock. 

The clock is still there to remind me of the hours that have passed— 3 and a quarter to be precise.

Perhaps you were being too over the top but you hadn’t meant to. The pure, unadulterated exhilaration overwhelmed you after Professor Binns called you aside after your last exam. It had become an accepted knowledge to you that History of Magic wasn’t necessarily your strongest suit. Enough so that it would’ve been perfectly fine for you to receive a less-than-average result.

To hear how exceptional you had done this time, possibly even greater than many of your classmates, your mind instinctively went to share your achievement with Theo. After all, he was the one who patiently dedicated hours guiding you in your review and it took precedence over his own. Assurances, that came off as more of arrogance, of how he would do just fine and that he could ace it even if he wore a blindfold.

Maybe that’s where it all went wrong. Could it have been the lack of sleep before? He does get a bit irritable with a lack of rest. You’ve seen it personally in the weeks that lead up to Quidditch games. The fatigue, in addition to the stress of the final exams before the holidays, must’ve steered him into that state. 

Despite feeling upset and somewhat finding fault within yourself, you couldn’t muster up the will to apologise first. While his behaviour tonight could have been explainable, for goodness’ sake, the way that he has gone about it was unwarranted— shouting and hurling the harshest words that he is capable of, at you. The person that rejected every offer, made by him, because you were scared to impose on his studying hours. Now he cannot even be happy at what you had worked so dedicatedly on with him?

After spending hours in the cold and dark room, doing nothing but ruminating on the argument, you realise that you refuse to allow his words to dampen your joy and excitement any more than they have already. Sitting up straight, you stretch your arms wide. Swiftly tidying the scattered papers and dried pens into an acceptable arrangement in your trunk before you settle down beneath your duvet cover. Giving up on the idea of getting any work done when your mind was elsewhere.

The both of you made plans to have a sleepover in your dorm room after your roommates announced that they would be spending the night elsewhere. However, it will be safe to say that the idea had crumbled into non-existence after the heated exchange of words between the two of you. 

As you lay there on your side, facing the stone wall with your back to the door, you couldn’t help but reflect on your argument. A hailing storm brewed in the furrows of your mind, unable to piece together what exactly you should do. The only thing you wanted was to hear his beating heart beneath you as you lay on his chest. But you knew that it wouldn’t be right for yourself to concede.

Of all the ways that you’ve imagined for him to react, what had truly occurred did not even appear in your mind. It left you tossing and turning in frustration and confusion, unable to fall asleep in peace. Only the warmth and lasting scent of his cologne on your duvet keep you calm— the realisation that you couldn’t even properly be mad at him makes you huff.

In the silent war within you, you were deaf to the aged door groaning in protest as its rusty hinges emitted a creaking sound that left the person behind it wincing. Nor did you hear the unusually gentle footsteps that followed.

So much so that even the shadows that lurked within the walls would have thought that the footsteps were a figment of their imagination. In the way that the presence hesitated outside of your room as if they were heavily contemplating.

It was only at the weighted dip of the bed behind you and the hesitant arm that crept around your waist that were you pulled from your trance. Yet, you bore no intent of recognition for him even as he had fully suited himself behind you with his chin tucked in the crook of your neck.

As his presence enveloped you, he began with a slight tremor in his voice. “Y/N…I-“

“I could write and speak a thousand sorry’s and reasons for why the words had so easily slipped from my lips, but they will never unspeak them from existence. I promised your mama that I will never let a speck of hurt flash across those eyes, and I will forever apologise to her for breaking that promise.” A shaky exhale lines the last few syllables. “I was so unnecessarily horrible and mean to you without meaning to. So consumed by this- this emotion that flooded me, something that I had lost control over.”

Every syllable was accompanied by a hesitant tone that left the words sounding shaky; nervous. Coupled with the drop of tears that lined your neck right where his head sat.

You listened, listening to his apology, but the wounds were still fresh. The echo of his sharp words runs deep beneath your skin, embedded into your bones, prickling with every second you are reminded of them. The sincerity in his voice clashed with the pain he had caused with his words, leaving you torn between the desire to understand and the reluctance to let go of the hurt.

“You really hurt my feelings, Theo.” If he wasn’t already drowning in misery, hearing his name fall from your lips after he worked many weeks to be called something else had him gasping for breath. “I genuinely want to forgive you, but at this moment, I can’t quite find it in me to do so. You blew up on me for absolutely no reason. I need you to help me understand, to give me a reason behind your outburst, not mere words of guilt. Because even if you say sorry a thousand times, I would never be able to forgive you for clearly attacking me where I would greatly feel it.

His voice, meek in the tense air between the two of you, unfolded with a raw honesty that lays bare his desperation for this to be over.

“The exhaustion from lack of sleep and finding that I barely got a passing grade…It was a bit too much for me. I have no idea why it even bothered me when, for so long, I could hardly give a damn about these stupid exams," he shared, sighing with exasperation.

A pang of guilt and shame flared within your chest at the knowledge. The initial shadow of hesitation and guilt that crept on you the days before came rushing back in. You should’ve known better than to allow him to persuade you. Turning around on the bed to face him. But before you could wallow yourself in these emotions, Theo quickly puts your mind to rest.

“Don’t blame yourself, darling.” He tenderly pushes a thumb against the forming frown on your forehead. “I should have told you that I needed to study also instead of leaving it to luck. I guess I was being a bit of a confident prick that got used to not reviewing for an exam that I fully forgot I missed a few lectures a few weeks ago. I truthfully never had and never will blame you, not when I had been the one, adamant enough, to help you out despite your protests.”

His admission carried a mix of self-awareness and remorse. The vulnerability that was clear in his words began to bridge the hesitance inside of you to relax, the layers of miscommunication slowly peeling away. 

You could sense the weight he carried. Despite his casual indifference to his studies, you knew that it was something that he silently prided himself in. To have that be ruined in addition to the cumulative stress that built up over time with his hectic schedule. Being reminded that even if he may seem so perfect on the surface, beneath that, he was still human; flawed, vulnerable, and young. Although the hurt had begun to shift, not fully dissipating yet, it had turned into a sense of empathy that allowed you a clarity of thinking.

A small, understanding hum escaped you. The strain in your voice is gone now, ”We need to work on our communication, then. No longer hiding things from each other for any reason, even if we think it does not matter. Part of our relationship is to work our problems side by side, even if it doesn’t concern the other. We shouldn’t have things fester until it explodes on us.” 

He nods, burying his head back into the crook of your neck. “I’m sorry. I should’ve told you.” You gently pull his head back and look at him fondly. “And we need to also address the way you spoke to me earlier. Just because we were in the heat of the moment and lost in our emotions does not mean you have the right to do that, not when my mom raised me without raising her voice.”

“I’m really sorry. Merlin…I can still see the look on your face and I don’t think I would ever forget and forgive myself for being the reason behind it”. “I won’t say I forgive you just yet, that’s a boundary crossed for me. We should’ve had this talk in the beginning but better now than never. Let’s take a pause for now, and resume this conversation with a clear head.” He met your gaze with a blend of appreciation and a sense of resolve. 

masterlist

[soleilnewspaper]

Ever since Potions class…

Series masterlist

Summary: In the wake of your feelings being revealed, Sirius and Remus are forced to face the aftermath. James grows increasingly frustrated with the two and decides to play matchmaker.

Pairing: poly!wolfstar x fem!reader

Warnings: Angst, mentions of self loathing and one’s inner demons, swearing, use of Y/N.

Word count: 3.6k

AN: Okay so I’m not sure if I entirely love how this turned out but here we go. If you do enjoy this, please do all the tumblr things, reblog, like and ect!! Feedback is always welcomed and appreciated.

In the wake of your impulsive rush out of class left your classmates were left in a state of shock and amusement.

A few snickers from the group of girls situated near left wing right at the back was the Professor’s last straw. It goes without saying. Hormonal teenagers and love potions never pair well together.

“Could we perhaps return to the lesson?” Slughorn’s voice momentarily brought the classroom to a silent halt. “I highly doubt this will be on your potions exam.” He stated making sure to put extra emphasis on this in reference to the gossiping girls.

His voice fell to deaf ears as the class continued to grow louder.

“Bloody hell, do ye not have anythin’ better to do your lives?” A voice shouted from the back of the classroom causing everyone to focus on the blonde Gryffindor girl it had come from.

“Thank you for your effort, Miss McKinnon but I urge you to consider a calmer approach.”

If looks could kill, Slughorn would be done for with the way the girl was death glaring him. Yet, she had still managed to shut them all up.

Slughorn attempted to get back on topic, his patience wearing thin but he prevailed for his love for the subject outweighed it. A hand raise from Lily Evans was quick to send the man back into a warm smile as she answered the questions about the potion.

Not long afterwards the lesson fell back into place. Slughorn droning on and on about Amortentia. His words seamed to blur together for Remus. Despite his multiple attempts to focus his efforts proved unsuccessful.

The werewolf glanced down at his notes and came to the conclusion that none of it would be useful. Much of it was incoherent and jumbled together in a sea of words.

Thankfully he was not the only one struggling to understand what had transpired only moments ago. His honey brown eyes met sliver ones. Those belonging to his beloved boyfriend next to him. Who was receiving a very concerned look from one James Potter and two Peter Pettigrew.

James mouthed something to Sirius but for the life of him he couldn’t understand it. Growing more frustrated by the minute as he tried to speak to his best friend in hushed tones. Neither boy wanting to get detention, for the third time this month.

“Of for-“ The black haired boy was interrupted by the feeling of his boyfriend’s hand on his shoulder. A silent message was conveyed between the two; not here.

The class was excruciating long before the professor finally dismissed them. The walls of the dungeon seemed to feel longer than normal. That unmistakably English autumn breeze making its way through the cracks.

Students blurred together in a sea of red and green. Some rushing to their next class, others looking for a spot to spend their free period.

“Moons..” Sirius’s voice brought Remus back into reality. The elegant sound dripping with concern and undertones of confusion- no that wasn’t it - it was fear.

“Hmm, love?” Remus responded with tired eyes, and a smile which was far from being real. The werewolf wasn’t sure who he was trying to conceive, Sirius or himself.

Remus felt as Sirius hands slipped into his own. Far more gentle than usual. Public displays of affection were often very much not gentle when it came to Sirius Black. The protective nature of his presence was anything but subtle with his affections.

The two boys remained just like that for a few moments. Silent, in a crowded hallway but their eyes only remained on each other.

A chuckle escaped Remus’s lips which left Sirius frowning his brows in confusion. That confusion only intensified when his chuckle turned into a roar of laughter. Very much uncharacteristic of Remus John Lupin.

“Merlin, do you need Madam Prompery?” Sirius said with a mild grin starting to grow.

“Fuck-“ Remus put his free hand on his lover’s chest his expression betraying his serious tone. “Your cologne really is strong.”

“I hate you.”

“As if you could ever.” Remus warmth was spread into his smile. Sirius shaking his head before running a hand through his hair.

James Potter hated how his friends claimed he ‘mothered’ them to much, but in all honesty they needed it. Not so secretly he loved it.

Most recently his patience was wearing dangerously thin. Due to two of his best friends.

It had been over a month since your incident in potions class. The school had long since moved on and it was old news by now.

A fact which James was not fully content with. He had told himself that this was just the process. Remus and Sirius were dealing with it on their own terms. No need to meddle. Simple as that.

However, day by day it becomes more difficult to not meddle. Surely, they should have some reaction by now. Well, a normal reaction.

Their reactions were not what he wanted to classify as normal. First, it started with Remus using sarcasm as a coping mechanism to brush it under the rug. Then Sirius added in the combination of avoidance and lashing out.

James loved his two friends dearly. Truly, he did but they were driving him into insanity. For James Potter had an ego the size of England but a heart of gold.

So when two of his best friends continued to avoid dealing with the fact that you had feelings for them, he was granted a little lean way. Especially, since he knows they both feel the same for you.

Years of feeling unloved has undoubtedly left a mark on Sirius. Where he refuses to disrupt the balance he has created with Remus in fear it’ll all come crashing down.

Remus, on the other hand, was full of self loathing and stubbornness. Meaning he would not be admitting anything either.

Which is exactly what lead James to break his own rule of no meddling.

Sirius had just began to remove his Qudditch gear when James dragged him by the ear. Causing the rest of the team to watch in confusion as the two boys walked out of sight.

Once they reached out of earshot from the rest of the team, James let go of Sirius ear. The black haired boy’s hand instantly went to touch his ear rubbing it. While his best friend stared at him through his glasses.

“Merlin, what the hell Prongs?” Sirius asked in attempt to understand the sudden change in his mood.

“You can’t keep avoiding it.”

“Avoiding what?” Sirius frowned his brows having absolutely no clue what James was on about.

“Pads, you cannot seriously be this blind.” James dumbfounded running his hands over his face.

“Mate you’ve lost me.”

“Oh for the love of Godric.” James removed his hands from his face and took a deep breath before stepping closer towards Sirius. Placing his palms on Sirius’s shoulders.

“You. Have. Feelings. For. Y/N.” James stated drawing out every word individually.

“You. Are. Actually. Mental.” Sirius replied in the same tone James had used on him.

“Pads, I see how you look at her. I’d been be blind not to.” James voice soften as he looked into the eyes of his best friend.

“I cannot stand her.”

“No, that’s just want you’ve been telling yourself to avoid your feelings. You did the same thing with Remus.” James concurred.

“I never hated Remus.” Sirius scoffed at James’s statement.

“You’re right, you never hated Remus but you did push him away when things got to real.”

Sirius and James stared at each other for a few minutes until Sirius broke. It felt like it would last an eternity.

“Fine, I do.” Sirius shrugged Jame’s hands off his shoulders. “It’s driving me fucking crazy, alright?”

“It is all I think about most days. Not matter what I do, how hard I try, I can’t get her out of my goddamn mind. “ His voice begins to raise with every word that leaves his mouth but he didn’t stop there.

“How fucking screwed am I-that- that I can’t stop thinking about some girl when I already have most wonderful guy to ever exist. Huh?”

“You don’t think I see that. You don’t think I carry that I feel like shit every day-“ Sirius breathing became heavier with every moment that passed practically hitching after every syllable.

“Hey, hey, hey, deep breathes Pads.” James steadied Sirius holding him in place with both hands on either side of his arms. Sirius nodded in response allowing himself to calm down.

“Did you forget she smelled Remus too?” James smiled making sure to remain eye contact with Sirius.

“Course not. I’d never forget someone else smelling my boyfriend in Amortentia.”

“Siri, she has feelings for both of you. You have feelings for both of them. Is it making sense yet?”

“But what about Remus?”

“Were you dropped as a child?”

Sirius hand flew to hit his best friend lightly across the head at his comment.

“Oi, don’t hate the messenger.” James smirked before ducking his head before Sirius could land another hit. “Remus wants what you want. The two of you are just to stubborn to see the other feels the same way.”

As almost if a lightbulb went off in his head, everything became clear to Sirius. Without another word, the dark haired boy sprinted towards the library leaving James alone behind the tents.

“Thank you James for opening my eyes.” James threw his arms up into the air while intimating his best friend’s voice.

“Sure no problem.” James made his way back to the Quidditch locker rooms, mumbling incoherently under his breath.

The library was filled with the imperceptibly squeaking recognisable as the souls of Madam Pince’s shoes. The librarian’s breath felt down the hairs on the necks of students who dared touch her precious books. Outside the setting sun could be spotted in the distance. Its rays streaming through the glass windows.

A tall werewolf sat hunched over a wooden table brimming with books of all kinds. Pools of chocolate irises trained on the words displayed on the worn pages. Sandy brown waves framed his scarred face.

A gush of wind blew over the boy drawing him out of his reading. His head rose allowing his eyes to scan the room for what the cause of the wind was. A soft smile creeped up his cheeks when he spotted his beloved.

Nevertheless the smile was fleeting. Not lasting longer than a few trivial seconds before turning into a concerned frown. Sirius ‘s form darted towards Remus rapidly.

Beads of sweat dripped from his skin. A result of running directly after qudditch practice from the pitch to the library. Strands of black hair fell from his ponytail to lay around the ends of his jaw.

“Everything alright, love?” Remus asked gently. Not fully sure or ready for what would be awaiting him once Sirius decided to open his mouth.

Slowly he took a step towards Sirius, followed by a few more until he was inches away from him. Only then did he notice how his sliver eyes were glossy and red. The sight sent a shiver through Remus’s core causing chain reaction to occur.

His hands found their way to the contours of Sirius’s face. “What happened?” The hints of anger from protectiveness in Remus gentle voice told Sirius he truly had no idea what he was about to say.

“We have feelings for Y/N.” The use of we told Remus everything he needed to know. Remus pulled his brows together. Nodding his head to try to comprehend the thought.

“Okay, and we are both sure of this?” Remus conceded.

“What do we do, Rem?” Sirius breathed out, leaning into Remus’s touch. Using him as the pillar which supported him and kept him from falling apart.

“Honestly, er, communication is good, or so I’ve been told.” Remus fingers softly rubbing the sides of Sirius face in circular motions.

“Wait, hold up, when did we come to this conclusion?” Remus dropped his hands but didn’t make any move to leave Sirius’s side.

“Twenty minutes ago.”

“Right, er, well, I’m goin’ to need more than that, love.”

“Let’s just say James was involved.” Sirius explained blankly. Remus chuckled at that, imagining James in full ‘mom’ mode.

“Moons, you do feel the same, right?” Sirius interwoven his fingers with Remus’s letting his eyes fall onto them for a moment. His voice insecure now, betraying himself.

“You’re not the only one. I feel it too.” Remus hung his head low. Staring at his fingers interlocked with his boyfriend’s. “Ever since…”

“Ever since potions class.” Sirius finished his sentence for him.

“Siri, why did you not say anything before?” It was Remus’s turn to be concerned now.

“I thought you would hate me.”

“Sirius, what gave you that fucking idea?” Remus started to ready his speech he’d given his boyfriend countless times before, but then stopped, deciding this situation called for a different approach.

“You already forgave me for…well..everything..I couldn’t tell you I had feelings for someone else..” Sirius attempted to avoid Remus’s glaze, but of course he wasn’t having it. Remus used his index finger to lift Sirius’s chin to ensure he was looking at him.

“I thought I was betraying you in some way. By having feelings for someone who wasn’t you.” Remus confessed what had been lying heavily on his mind for a long time now.

“I didn’t even fully accept that I had feelings, until James forced it out of me.” Sirius let out a deep breath.

Remus closed the distance between them, wrapping his arms around Sirius who in return wrapped his own around Remus’s lanky waist.

The darkness of Sirius family name haunted him in more ways than one. Vulnerability was not something he was taught. Therefore, Remus needed to tread carefully. For he knew the consequences Sirius’s darkness could cause. Remus understood that Sirius almost never dealt well with such situations.

Remus had his own demons, which differed from the ones Sirius battled. Self loafing was Remus’s chosen method of poison. Purely created by the treatment he had seen his kind receive. The same treatment which his parents, friends and lover had sworn to protect him from.

In spite of the fact that their darkness were far from the same. The two wizards had learned to navigate through each other’s absence’s of lights.

Yet in the wake of their newfound discovery they were facing uncharted territory. Your pure existence had thrown disrupted the balance between the two of them. Yet, neither one seamed to feel any resentment towards you for it. Instead the thought of your presence only brought warmth and comfort to them both. They had known you for years, not candidly. Rather in the form of sharing classes with you or passing you in the hallway. Additionally, there was the fact that you seamed quite close with Sirius’s younger brother. That they knew to be a fact.

They did know you, they had been picking up on things about you for months. Perhaps for Sirius he had been doing so since the moment his brother invited you to their home all those summers ago.

Neither one ever thought anything would come from it, which is why they denied any interest in you. Not that anyone had ever thought there was to begin with.

With heads hung low and fingers intertwined, Sirius and Remus entered their shared dorm.

James was in the midst of writing an essay for charms class. His reasoning for leaving said essay to the last minute was the pressure would advance his argument. Pranking first years with Sirius three days ago had nothing to do with it.

The sound of water coming from the faucet indicated that Peter had taken the chance to shower.

Sirius padded over to his empty bed and let himself fall back onto the red blanket. Laying flat on his back with his feet dangling off.

Remus began to untie his tie feeling a relief when he was able to undo his top button. Exchanging his robes for a sweater and comfortable loose fitting pants which hung low on his hips.

James peered through his glasses to see for any indication that his efforts had been successful.

“I take it you two talked?” James temporarily turned his attention away from his essay. He would pull an all nighter if it meant his friends were happy.

A nod from Remus and a grunt from Sirius were the only responses he received.

“We’re still deciding what our next steps are.” Remus sighed leaning against one of the pillars of his bed.

“Our lives are fucking screwed.” Sirius mumbled into his pillow.

“Okay, that’s a tad dramatic.” Remus moved to sit by the foot of Sirius bed. Moving his legs to lay them on his lap.

“Here’s a thought.” James began, making sure both boys were listening before continuing. “Talk to her.”

“Got any other ideas?” Sirius raised his head from the pillow to side glance James earning himself a disapproving head shake.

James lounged forward on the sheets of his bed to grab the nearest pillow which was sent flying to Sirius’s head.

“Oh Godric, OH GODRIC.” James sudden outburst caused Remus to raise an eyebrow.

“Must I do everything for you, then?” James stood up from his bed planting himself in the centre of the room with hands on his hips.

It had never been your intention to come between a couple. Nor did you ever hope to be the cause of any issues in a relationship.

You had actively planned to get over your feelings for Sirius and Remus. Yet, they only grew more than you could have ever imagined.

In order to try move on you avoided Remus at every available opportunity. While you annoyed Sirius beyond expectation making him hate you. Which in turn made you somehow convince yourself you hated him.

Neither fact was true. You did not hate Sirius nor did he hate you. Both of you were just trying to ignore what you felt for each other.

Even so, your avoidance of Remus never proved successful. Your heart longed for him as much as it did for his boyfriend.

Thankfully, you had thought no one had noticed your growing infatuation with them. Then, potions class happened. Now everyone knew.

Avoidance had proved again to be your saving grace. You honestly do not know how you would have survived the week without it. Skipping classes might have been detrimental to your overall grade but it was a cost you were willing to take. For the time being, anyway.

The only problem was when you avoided them your friends grew increasingly suspicious of your intentions. Particularly Regulus, who had heard in passing about your ‘incident’.

You missed being able to stare at them in hallways when no one was looking. Or watch the way they laughed with their friends in the great hall.

Unknowingly to you, the boys had been trying to track you down all day. They could not go to your dorm because you resided in a different house to them. House members would undoubtedly become suspicious if word spread of the two attempting to find a way into your dormitory this morning.

Remus made the suggestion to entrust the guidance of your friends. Sirius opposed the idea as one of your friends including Regulus.

Luckily, fate had other plans for the three of you.

After a long day full of classes you could hardly wait to return to the tranquility only your dorm could offer.

The moment your eyes met the sliver and brown hues of your favourite boys. You gave up on tranquility entirely.

Every instinct streamed at you to run away. If it hadn’t been for Sirius, you would have listened to them.

“Y/N!” Sirius called out to you, as if you could ignore him now.

“Hello Sirius.” You offered some general decently, it was the least you could do, you thought. “And hi to you Remus.”

“Could we please talk?” Remus’s voice was timid, more so than you had ever heard before.

“Listen, I truly am sorry for what happened. Please know that I don’t expect anything from either one of you-“

“Stop, Y/N, could you let us speak please?” Remus’s voice warmed your ears more than you liked. That voice could fix anything you thought. You offered a small nod in response to his ask.

“Rem and I, we’ve-well…you see..fuck. God, why is this so hard, okay. I-we wanted you to know that..have feelings for you!” Sirius barely managed to get out his sentence before he blurted it out point blank.

“Excuse me?” Your eyes widened in complete and utter shock. This was not at all what you were expecting.

“Both of us. When you smelled us in the Amortentia, it got us thinking-and-well we realised that we both share feelings for you.” Remus explained more gently than Sirius, emphasising his syllables.

“What does this mean?” You chocked out.

Sirius and Remus exchanged looks sharing a message between themselves which left you feeling more despondent.

“We did some research, well, Remus did and I consulted James and Lily.” Sirius stated, choosing to use the word consulted instead of admit that Lily and James had been piecing it together for him for the last few days.

Remus waited for you to give any indication that you still felt comfortable before he continued for Sirius. A simple head nod from you gave him the reassurance he needed.

“Are you aware of the term polyamory?” Remus asked you gently, bringing his hands together before himself.

“I’ve heard of it, yes.” Your voice took on a different tone as you continued to feel confused by the boy’s actions.

“Well, we want to try it, with you, I mean.” Sirius breathed out.

“What he means is, if you’re open to it of course. We were wondering how you would feel being a third in our relationship.” Remus stepped towards you, leaving little to no distance between him and you.

Remus’ honey brown eyes shimmed with affection. Though you weren’t quite sure who it was meant for.

Sirius’ head cocked to the side ever so slightly resembling that of a lost puppy. Dark hair falling in disarray. Whilst Remus kept his focus on you. Resisting the urge to take your fingers into his own.

They both desperately awaited your response.

Taglist: @maraudersforlife2005, @h3arts4strs

If you would like to be added to the taglist, please tell me in the comments!! Thank you lovelies 💗💗💗

[berberriescorner]

“Are You Listening?”

Interlude: “Drinks On Me, Yeah?”

Characters: Rio x Black!Reader.

Summary: Issa Interlude, mama. Expect the unexpected.

Warnings: Profanity, angst, fluff, and drinking-little libation for the one, two.

Word Count: 1,700+.

A/N: My lovelies! My babies! Mama’s back and I got a little sum-sum for ya! Let’s start this weekend with a little Rio and the crew, yeah? Yeah. I want to give so many thanks to all of you sweet lovelies who have been rocking with me this entire time. Most of you know that the past year and a half has been quite the struggle. To everybody who took time out of your day to come and check in on me, please know that I’m appreciative and forever grateful to have connected with such amazing people🥹♥️. Thank you for all the sweet, hilarious comments and asks as well💓. I’m a little rusty, so be gentle with your girl. Enjoy my sweet babies.  Before anyone asks, yes, I’ve been working on Pt. 4😂😏😈.

"Are You Listening?" - The Playlist

Apple Music.

Spotify.

Part One Here.

Part Two Here.

Part Three Here.

Inspired By:

Your body pressed down into the plush mattress as you reveled in the comfort and security of being home. Your mind replayed the image of your mom snatching the door open, the two of you hugging tightly, rocking side to side. You had spent the past week trying to survive final exams and warding off the many questions of, “What’s wrong, baby girl?” The woman who gave you life knew you all too well. Sensing that her youngest baby was struggling, her attempts to get you to open up over the phone went unanswered. With the semester complete, being home didn’t leave much space to dodge the knowing gaze in her eyes. 

That master’s degree will probably be a waste of time.

The moment you pulled away from the hug, she cupped your chin, and your poker face cracked as the tears cascaded down your cheeks. Two hours later, you filled her in on everything from the stress of school, financial aid, working doubles, and the fresh crack in your heart that was taking its sweet-ass time to heal. All of which had only taken about forty minutes to stutter out. The talk and her comfort had left you wiped out, and just like any amazing mother would do, she sent you to your room for a nap and got to work on preparing comfort food.

You considered dozing off for a bit more rest, but your bedroom door flew open, bouncing off the corner of your vanity. Your eyes narrowed to mere slits as you started to curse your oldest brother out. His hand raising halted the verbal reprimand.

“Alena’s big-headed ass is here to see ya mean ass,” he snarked about the woman who would eventually become his wife.

These two bitches are so in love. It’s sickening. The attraction is so annoyingly obvious. Shit makes me sick to my stomach.

Before you could tell him you didn’t want company, she was already in the doorframe. “Uh-uh, bitch you are not about to dodge me for another two weeks.” With those words said, you had no choice but to give her a rundown of what had transpired. Not only had she forced you to divulge every last detail while the two of you hugged and cried together. She also took it upon herself to wiggle you into your best freakum dress and head out for a girl’s night.

Being the baby and the only girl in your family made for very over-the-top protective parents. The moment your father saw your attire, he wouldn’t let up. He was hell-bent on forcing your brothers to chaperone.

It wasn’t a horrible idea.  Only you didn’t like your independence challenged. Luckily, the older siblings were pretty chill, so long as no one was overly aggressive. They had taught you how to handle shit for yourself at a young age. You spent the first half hour in the club pouting and ready to go home to wallow in self-misery.

“Hoe! If you don’t fix your face, scaring off every good-looking man in this club!”

“They’ll be alright, so long as they keep their distance. In case you didn’t get the memo after our long talk. Men make my ass itch,” you growled, kissing your teeth.

“Whateva, you and that stank attitude can have a good time together,” she sassed, throwing up a hand and walking away from the bar.”

“Where are you going? Alena!”

“I’ll be back, damn! Let me go on and annoy them, fine-ass brothers of yours. Be nice, and don’t bite nobody head off, sourpuss.”

“Always thirsting after my blood, just triflin’.”

With the flick of a middle finger, she sauntered over to their section. You could see the irritation rolling off them as she seated herself in the middle. The arguing started seconds later. Your eye twitched at the sight. Swinging the barstool back toward the liquor, you were about to pass the time scrolling through social media. Instead, a set of bronzed-colored, muscular digits came into view. They gently pressed your phone to the bar as the matching digits slid another lemon drop into view. Your eyes danced along those muscular fingers, trailing upward until they landed on one of the sexiest faces you’d ever witnessed. If any other man would’ve done this, he would’ve been set straight expeditiously. In this instance, ole boy was just too damn fine, and it left you on mute. The corners of his mouth lifted into a handsome smirk.

The stranger turned his barstool to get closer. One hand rested on the bar while the other cradled the back of your seat. His eyes roamed over your body, lip tucking between his teeth, matching you stare for stare. He chuckled when he noticed your quirked eyebrow.

“I don’t mean to intrude on ya evening, but I figured you could use another drink.”

“Is that so?”

“Couldn’t help but overhear your conversation with your friend. I’m tryin’ to  figure out why these men got your fine ass itching out here.”

Shit, he heard that? Floor, open up and swallow me. That’s so damn embarrassing.

As if reading your thoughts, he continued, “Nothing to be embarrassed about, mama. There’s a lot of boys running around here pretending to be men. Who was crazy enough to fumble you? He gotta be the dumbest man on earth.”

As if on cue, said fumbler’s name popped up on your caller ID. With a swipe of a finger, the phone went silent. You turned back to your new admirer. He had signaled for another round of drinks.

“Either you’re a big spender, or the bartender is your connect,” you teased.

“Connect is one way of putting it. This my spot, darlin’.”

He chuckled as you damn near choked on your drink.

“I’m sorry. Tend to put my foot in my mouth.”

“You good. I like a woman who’s not afraid to speak her mind. Dealing with me, you go to say it with your chest.”

“Oh, so you plan to be around me beyond tonight?”

“Around, underneath, on top. We locked in, mama,” he insisted, licking his lips.

“I don’t even know your name, fool,” you cackled at his cockiness.

“Name’s Rio, but you can call me Christopher, mama. My future wife needs to know my government name. I’m putting my trust in you. Don’t be tellin’ my business, sweetheart.”

“Who says I’m checking for you, Rio?”

“You accepted my company and drinks. Deep down, you’re intrigued by me. Ain’t no need to hide it. When I see something I want, gotta go after it, mama.” he rasped, voice lowering to a panty-dropping level.

“You’re trouble. I just know it.”

Rio planted both hands on your thighs. The gasp that escaped you lit his brown orbs with passion.

“Can I have your undivided attention for the night? Want to get to know you better, mama.”

Grabbing his outstretched hand, he helped you down off the stool.

“Rio…”

Piercing light flickered in the darkness, pulling you from the memory that played itself in your dreams. Your hand snatched the vibrating phone from the table. Your orbs squinted to read the screen, teeth clenching in frustration.

Fucking Rio, I can’t even get away from him in my sleep. Stupid-handsome-asshole.

With a single tap, the phone rested on DND. You closed off from the world to find a peaceful slumber, only to wake from another dream. Throwing the covers back, you startled, feeling the bed dip. His cologne wafted through the air, and your eyes connected.

“Why all the tossing and turning, amor? Hmm,” he rasped, hand trailing up your arm. His warm palm cradled the side of your neck, rubbing away some of the tension.

“Sorry, did my restlessness wake you?”

“No, querida. I’ve been up taking care of some things.”

“Same old Miguel. Everything business. Still don’t sleep much, huh?”

His eyes crinkled with a small smile, but you could also see sadness. It’s the same unhappiness that’s always lingered, only now accompanied by sparks of anger and resentment. Your mind replayed his words in the elevator.

Where’s your wife, Miguel?

She had other plans tonight.

The slightest mention of her had nearly sent his mood spiraling. You weren’t privy to what was happening in his marriage but didn’t want to pry. He would only reverse card uno your ass. Miguel would insist that you vent about your own life and frustrations.

“Thank you for taking the couch,” you nibbled at your lip. 

There was a hint of frustration and guilt lingering in your chest. Not being able to sleep without dreaming of Rio left you feeling conflicted. Part of you wanted to say to hell with loyalty. Being in such a vulnerable state had you craving to be held and cuddled, but regardless of circumstance, the two of you were very much married. Concern swam in the pools of his eyes. Miguel sensed the ongoing dilemma in your head, and his fingers gently cupped your chin.

“Hey, talk to me. What’s all this,” he asked, tugging the lip between your teeth. “Tell me what you need.”

“I can’t,” you sighed.

“You can, and you will. Look at me,” he insisted as your eyes locked.

“Anything you ask me. It won’t leave this room. You need me to hold you until sleep takes over, amor?”

Unable to verbally say it, you gave him a slight head nod. Removing his tie, watch, and shoes, he made it over to the opposite side of the bed. Miguel got right to it, not giving you time to overthink it. He pulled you into his chest, arms engulfing you in a tight hug.

“Were you having nightmares, cariño?”

“No, just happy memories reminding me of the present painful ones,” you replied, voice filling with unshed tears.

“You want to talk about it?”

Silence filled the room as Miguel continued, “We don’t have to ta-.”

His sentence cut short as he felt the tremors and your head burrowed into his side. Miguel’s heart cracked at the sound of the sobs falling from your lips. His arms pulled you further into him until there was no space left, and the palm of his hand rubbed at your head.

“Shhh, you’re okay. I’m here,” he cooed, leaving soft kisses on the crown of your head.

Miguel continued to whisper calming words. You cried until your head pounded, and sleep took over.

Hope you all enjoyed that little peek into how Rio pulled up on your girl for the first time. He saw something he liked, and he had to have you🥰. We’ll just call this a vague moment of insight into upcoming events...if that makes sense 😆. If you enjoyed please be sure to hit the love button, comment, and reblog. Spread the love, my babies.

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[islandofsages]

Hi, can I ask the dorm leaders with a student (male) who is extremely good in all academic subjects, ranking among the top 5 in the test rankings, but is extremely stupid in all other factors, for example if someone tries to bully with him, he had politely asked the person to apologize.

characters: the housewardens x male reader

tags: platonic, fluff + crack, imagines format; azul mention in riddle's, riddle mention in azul's, jamil mention in kalim's, vargas mention in vil's, ortho mention in idia's

warnings: alarming stupidity nothing

author's notes: this is such a fun prompt omg i love dumbasses

Riddle Rosehearts

He finds your grades quite impressive - though you can’t cut through his and Azul’s rankings, you manage to land the third place at least

He admires and respects your diligence in studying; if you’re a Heartslabyul student, he’ll consider you a great candidate for the seat of housewarden (or at least vice position)

But then he stumbles upon you one day doing… something? What are you doing?

You’re… crouching in front of a bug. Okay well, maybe you’re studying it

Upon closer inspection though, it looks like you’re… crying? Are you mourning??

The bug’s not even dead. It’s just lying down. You’re seriously mourning a bug that’s actually alive.

He doesn��t want to think it nor does he actually believe you’re like this. But he feels you’re being really stupid at the moment

Then he thinks that again. When you’re doing another stupid thing. Yet you continue to dominate the class rankings

He’s confused. Really confused. 

He stops doubting the duality of man because of you.

Leona Kingscholar

He thinks you’re not half-bad for a herbivore (or well, if you’re a beastman, good for you too)

If you’re a member of Savanaclaw, he’s grateful to have one more guy who can contribute to the decreasing of the dropout rates

That is, until he sees you being cornered by what seems to be a group of bullies

He sighs tiredly at the thought of having to break up a fight again and walks over to you guys, fully expecting you to be in some kind of trouble

But… you’re scolding the bullies instead? And they actually seem apologetic

Did you really ask a group of bullies to apologize for trying to bully you?

He’s unsure if you’re the oblivious one here or the bullies; you’re supposed to feel victimized. Or maybe the bullies are so bad at bullying they don’t affect you in the least??

He doesn’t know what to make of this. But he supposes as long as you don’t make any trouble for him, he doesn’t give a damn

Then he sees more bullies try to get you to give up your wallet to them

Okay, maybe he’ll give at least two damns.

Azul Ashengrotto

A worthy contender to his and Riddle’s rankings? People like you don’t just come by every day

Definitely considers you a valuable asset of some sort… or at least a valuable friend!

So of course, he’d like to interview you on how you got to this level, definitely no other ulterior motives at all

You two sit down in the Mostro Lounge one day, everything is pleasant and comfortable, and you’re just chilling. He starts with a simple question: how do you study to get such good grades?

You ruminate the question for a minute, thinking hard, when you eventually come to the conclusion

“I mean. I just study like the normal person does. Five minutes before the exam itself, I’ll run through whatever notes I have.”

…What?

He’s not sure if you’re actually really stupid to study five minutes before an exam or really smart that you can ace exams with just five minute study sessions

He continues to interview you and he discovers more about how much of a dumbass you actually are but he endures it just for the sake of knowing your actual secrets

You better watch your back.

Kalim Al-Asim

He looks up to you so much, he practically begs you to tutor him so he doesn’t bother Jamil as much 

So you do, just for the hell of it and maybe because of the money too

And it works! He’d come running to you, excitedly showing you his grades from the last exam and you’re genuinely proud of his improvement

He likes running up to you either way - and one day when he does, he runs into you… reading a book upside down?

“Oh, hey Kalim. You know, I found this book one day and I thought I’d give it a read but I can’t understand a single thing…”

He wants to say something. Specifically about you reading said book the wrong way (literally)

…But what if you’re right? Maybe it is meant to be read upside down and you’re just not understanding it because it’s in some ancient language?

You two go to Jamil for once since he seems to be as proficient, if not more, in ancient magic than the both of you

You were excited at the idea that there’s still new stuff out there you have yet to discover

Needless to say though, your excitement dies the moment Jamil finishes listening to your explanation and you two become the victim of his two-hour lecture.

Vil Schoenheit

You’ve gained his respect. A rare honor from the Fairest Queen himself, you think

He would consider you an equal… if it weren’t for the fact of, well, you’re pretty oblivious in literally everything else

He’ll never forget the day where your natural stupidity outshone your class ranking… because it involved Vil himself

You were in a joint PE class together (or if you’re classmates then just a regular class) and it gave both of you the opportunity to talk to each other a bit

It’s a nice little conversation until you say-

“Also… what’s Vargas’ last name anyway?”

Vil blinked once. Then twice. What did you just ask him?

Vargas. Is the last name. His full name is Ashton Vargas. It’s pretty common knowledge considering how much the guy himself says it. He relays that information to you

You let out a dragged out “Oh” and nodded understandingly. Oh, you were being genuine.

Now he doesn’t want to assume from just one interaction but every other interaction with you just proves his point - and the thing is he actually finds it kind of amusing.

Idia Shroud

Wow, someone who’s almost as prodigious as he is, how impressive (he’s being half-sarcastic, half-genuine here)

It is somewhat difficult to find some intelligent life in NRC sometimes. But then you end up being one of them anyway (yet also not really?)

Like you’re always in the top 5 when it comes to exams but then he sees you doing stuff like what you did yesterday…

He was outside for once, taking a walk since Ortho insisted, and he bumps into you on the main street

He didn’t think twice about what you were doing; you were merely staring up at the King of Beast’s statue, finger under your chin, eyes squinted. It’s obvious you were deep in thought

Until he walked by you, hearing you talk to yourself

“...What kind of animal is he anyway? A cat? A tiger?? A panther???”

??? Is it not obvious???

He debated on actually telling you what kind of animal the King of Beasts was but… somehow it’s funnier to leave you in the dark like that

He’ll never get over how you keep calling the King of Beasts a panther, mainly because it riles the Savanaclaw students up.

Malleus Draconia

You’re a curious little thing to him - he wonders how you’ve come to know so many things

Or at least, seem so… you may ace your exams but he comes to notice that it’s not consistent across all boards

He just got back from touring Ramshackle’s exterior for the umpteenth time when he sees you chilling in the Diasomnia lounge

You are talking to another student, which is normal and all, but your response makes him do a double take

“I just think they shouldn’t put mushrooms in mushroom soup! And not make it taste like mushrooms! It just has to look and feel like thick soup!”

But… those are what make mushroom soup… mushroom soup.

He doesn’t even feel that strongly towards mushroom soup! Why is he trying to defend mushroom soup??

It’s not outright stupid but… it certainly is a bold take that could be a pipeline to be dumb

Malleus tries not to judge; you have your qualities and flaws that make you special

But when you bring your complaint to the cafeteria staff, that’s where he draws the line and stops you for the sake of everyone’s sanity.

[theabysss]

Plush toy

pairing: sagau!Zhongli x Reader

summary: Zhongli performs his evening prayer, goes to bed and suddenly finds himself in your plush toy.

warnings: yandere, possessive & obsessive thoughts, religious + cult themes.

word count: 1.1k

note: Okay, I give up, I just can't stop writing at night. My body and inspiration are in cahoots to keep me from writing during the day. I ordered acrylic stands with Zhongli and Dottore, it remains to wait for them to arrive. Life is not so bad (looks askance at the last exam, it would be better without you)

Zhongli kneels and clasps his hands in prayer, as he has done so many times before. He was in his apartment on the harbor in a room dedicated to you, with a statue of you that he personally sculpted with his geo powers. Once at a time, he tried to capture your image in stone, and he considered this his attempt the most successful of all, even if it did not fully convey all your grace, mercy, power, beauty. But this is all he could be content with until the moment you go down to Teyvat physically.

On especially bad days, when his longing for you became especially strong, when he could no longer pretend that a life spent not in your radiance was meaningless, Zhongli stood in front of your statue for days, desperately praying. Praying for your return, not allowing himself to be interrupted for a second, whispering through cracked lips, when every word was a blade passing through a parched throat, he wanted to feel all your splendor, and not the pitiful crumbs that he felt next to the traveler.

His soul still found solace when you were around, even if your presence was ephemeral, but deep in his heart, Zhongli wanted to see your physical form. To be able to hear your voice, to see how emotions change on your face, to finally give all the gifts accumulated over the millennia. To dress you up in Liyue's best outfits made from the most expensive silk, feed you the most delicious meals, and be able to directly enjoy your divine presence, which always filled his heart with warmth. He desperately wanted it all, with all his draconic greed.

Zhongli finishes his daily evening prayer and, before leaving the room, takes one last look at your statue, full of longing and reverence. He performs evening routines, go to bed and slowly falls asleep, his last thought is about you. If he had a chance to see you even for a second, there's nothing he wouldn't do.

When Zhongli opens his eyes, his vision is very hazy and blurry, the body seems somehow cottony, completely motionless and small. He tries to blink and move, but he can't. When the vision finally becomes clear again, Zhongli's heart skips a beat and then begins to beat furiously. He sees you sitting at the table behind some strange luminous rectangle on which pictures move. Zhongli desperately tries to call you, but no sound escapes his lips. He couldn't move, couldn't speak. How could this happen? He just fell asleep, and now he was here next to you, though in some very strange state.

Everything becomes completely unimportant when Zhongli hears your laughter and notices your smile. You were beautiful, perfect, his wish came true, he was so close to you, directly watching you. For about fifteen more minutes, which seemed to him the most wonderful eternity in the world, Zhongli simply absorbed your emotions, your appearance, he was unable to get enough of you. You were his oasis in the middle of the desert to which he walked for five thousand years.

When the rectangle in front of you goes out, you get up from your seat and leave the room. He glares at you longingly, but now at least Zhongli has the opportunity to analyze the situation in which he finds himself. He collects his thoughts and tries to sort out his sensation and what he sees. A minute later, Zhongli comes to the conclusion that he was in a plush toy, out of the corner of his eye he can see others nearby. Well, it was strange, but he wasn't going to complain, rather, on the contrary, he was infinitely grateful for the opportunity to be near you, even so. It's true that you didn't seem to know about his presence, Zhongli wouldn't want to invade your life without permission, but it doesn't seem like he had a choice, he couldn't even close his eyes.

For the next half hour he hears a noise water and assumes that you are taking a bath. Zhongli can't help but look at the interior of your room, the colors in which it is decorated, the arrangement of furniture, trying to memorize as much as possible so that he can then reproduce the furnishings in Liyue later. All to increase the chances that you will like the place he created and want to stay.

Zhongli notices several photos, they show you with some people, joyful and smiling. Who were they? Other followers who have been given the great honor of being pictured with you in the same image? Or is it someone more important to you? The reason why you still have not descended to Teyvat fully, Zhongli feels jealousy and anger in his heart for those who dared to take your attention. But all negative thoughts fly out of his head when you return back to the room. You are wearing only a bathrobe and Zhongli definitely swallowed dryly if he could, your skin looks so soft, steamed, tender, the way it glistens in the lamplight, it makes the butterflies in his stomach flutter. It seems to him that he is not worthy to see this picture, the beautiful work of art that you are now.

When you approach and take him in your arms, Zhongli feels a moment of panic. Did you know he was here? How could he justify himself? But you just take him and go to bed. When you turn off the light and lie down next to him, he holds his breath. You cover yourself with a blanket and pull the toy that he was now towards you and Zhongli's mind thrashes about. It was all so much like a dream, a wonderful false dream, too beautiful to be true. Before you fall asleep, you kiss him briefly and he melts like a mist flower corolla on a hot day. Zhongli hears how your breathing becomes calmer and more measured and just enjoys this sound, gradually he is lulled, although he is desperately trying not to fall asleep so as not to miss a moment with you, but he does not succeed.

Zhongli wakes up from the sun's rays hitting his face, and as soon as memories reach him, he immediately jumps up on the bed, staring into the void in prostration. Did he dream everything? But you were so alive, so real in his memories. The whole next day, Zhongli is extremely confused and Hu Tao sends him home early, and he doesn't even try to dissuade her. You completely occupy all his thoughts, and in his heart the hope burns that this was something more than a dream. And when he goes to bed after the evening prayer, Zhongli longs to see you again. Just one more time.

Dragons were known for their greed, so he would never get enough. Always one more time and never the last. After all, the more he had, the more he wanted.

Reblogs, comments, are always greatly appreciated! ヽ(o^ ^o)ﾉ

[soobnny]

meet odd — han jisung.

trope. acquaintances to lovers. college au. u live in the same apartment floor. fluff.

synopsis. you get to know han jisung under strange circumstances or alternatively “we live in the same floor and the room between ours always has really loud sex so now we’re both in the main lounge at 2am… do you want this last bit of ice cream?”

word count. 2.3k

warnings. mentions of sex (from the apartment neighbor), cursing

note. hello hello! another skz fic hihi send an ask if u wanna be added to my skz perma taglist :’) i hope u enjoy this silly little story

part 2

There are a lot of things you love about your apartment – the free water and electricity bill, how it's walking distance from your school, the really cold study lounge, and the cat that frequents your small balcony.

For its price, you really couldn’t ask for anything more. The cheap monthly pay goes perfectly with your very strict budget as a broke college student. So, truly, you couldn’t ask for anything more.

Actually, maybe you could.

Within all the great qualities your apartment has to offer, there lies one really, really big setback. The apartment right next to yours and your painfully thin walls. The amount of times it has fucked you up in the head after a long day of classes and exams are immeasurable.

Cue the soft banging of your head against your wall and the pillow around your ears to block out the noises, serene smiling as you greet her the next day as you walk out of the apartment together to head to your early morning classes.

The months before she moved, your apartment had been the safest haven to retreat to – where you could stare at the ceiling after a long day, finish your school work quietly before getting comfortable in your bed, and rewatch a show you’d seen a million times before sleeping to prepare for another battle in your university.

Now, your armor is faltering, and the number of hours of your sleep is decreasing gradually fast. Each night was just repetitive banging of her bed’s headboard against the wall between your apartment rooms and obnoxious moans.

You honestly wouldn’t have minded if they weren’t so fucking loud about it.

And if they didn’t go at it until the crack of dawn.

You hate to be told to be grateful. There’s a clear border for when you’re valid to feel frustration over your situation – when you’re allowed to be ungrateful for the downcast of your neighbor in your life.

Because of your predicament, you’ve found multiple alternatives to aid you in overcoming this temporary challenge. There’s a pair of noise canceling headphones on your nightstand that you begrudgingly used your savings up on to purchase, and you’d been a constant visitor in Seungmin’s dorms.

However, you can only go for so long before you start displaying lower back pains from Seungmin’s old and fucked up couch. His roommate, Jeongin, doesn’t help much either when he enjoys talking your ears off as he does anything but study for his classes.

This is what your new living situation is like. You live off Seungmin’s dying couch and the random stabs of pain on your lower back, your apartment neighbor having the time of her life, and the newly formed bags under your eyes.

You’ve definitely thought about marching up to her room and talking to her about it. But what the hell were you supposed to say? It isn’t exactly the easiest thing to confront people about their sex life.

That’s how you find yourself retreating from your apartment at the ass crack of dawn to sit at the main lounge for a bit, defeated with slumped shoulders and heavy eyes.

They can’t go on for much longer, right? You just had to wait at the main lounge for a few more minutes and you could go back to the comfort of your own bed.

“Good morning.” There’s laughter in the voice of the only other person lounging on the couches of your lobby, legs crossed with a tub of ice cream in his hands.

You recognize him as Han Jisung – the other apartment situated right next to your sex addict neighbor. You’ve only really seen him a few times, in the elevator, leaving for the gym as you come back from school, and you’ve only really shared a brief exchange of hi’s and hello’s. Seeing him in a hoodie and sweatpants with glasses on has your stomach doing a summersault.

He is so painfully handsome, jumping straight out of his hot-boy-with-humor trope.

As soon as your eyes meet, the two of you laugh so loudly and so hysterically. You just know. You know why he’s here at 2am with his tub of ice cream. He’s at the main lounge for the exact same reason you are, and something about that feels so humanizing and funny to you.

There’s a shared understanding in your crinkled eyes and cracked smiles and heavy panting from laughing too hard at your predicament. You don’t care that you look crazy with your messy hair from tossing and turning from your bed all night. Nothing looks or sounds crazy to Jisung.

He’s scooting over the couch to leave the space next to him for you, his hand dropping down to pat the spot so you can sit right next to him.

You’re quick to walk over and sit next to him, and he gives you a smile, fingers drumming over the arm of the sofa with his thigh pressed up against yours slightly that makes your heart beat erratically.

“Want some?” His round boba eyes look at yours as he nudges the tub of ice cream in front of you, twisting his body so he can face you better.

The scent of his cologne is holding you ransom.

None of this feels real, but you swear you can’t be making this shit up. You can’t be making up pretty Han Jisung with his slightly long and a bit disheveled hair and his puffed out cheeks as he chews on his ice cream.

Staring down at his offer, you go over your choices. Although, when someone offers up free ice cream at 2am when you need comfort the most, you don’t think there’s really a need to go over your invisible choices. There’s an obvious answer – the one you take as you grab a spoonful of his ice cream and stuff it in your mouth.

You close your eyes at the cold sensation, a smile creeping up on your face instantly. You’re the happiest you’ve been today already, in this moment, eating ice cream with the boy with worn out converse and the sweetest laugh.

“How have you been coping?”

Jisung knows exactly what you’re talking about, and he finds it hilarious how you’re labeling his response to your shared neighbor as ‘coping mechanisms’. His lips twitch up as he rolls his head back to rest on the cushions.

“You can only go so far with noise canceling headphones.”

“I know right!” Your face lights up as you take another spoonful of ice cream, nodding your head in agreement.

“I tried staying with a friend for a bit, but I’m tired of living off protein shakes and cuddling on the same bed. A double sized bed cannot fit me and Changbin.” He shivers as he recounts his experiences with the boy.

“Changbin as in Seo Changbin from the Music and Performing Arts department?”

“Yeah! Binnie! How do you know him?” Your question makes the smile on his face brighter.

“My friend Seungmin knows him. I’m definitely telling him you shaded his love for protein shakes and that you hate cuddling with him.”

“I don’t hate cuddling with him!” Jisung defends himself, shaking his head aggressively. “I would cuddle with him on a bigger bed.”

“Dude…” He laughs.

Something about how he has experienced the same struggles you have is a little haunting, but also comforting. To know you’re not the only one who has gone through the mockery of begging to stay at a friend’s or purchasing those stupid overpriced headphones.

“Wanna… uh, nevermind.”

“Hm?”

Jisung isn’t the most straightforward person in the world, but something about the way you’re looking at him with wide, curious eyes is intoxicating, and it gives him enough courage to continue talking.

Clearing his throat, he repeats. “Wanna go out for a bit?”

Han Jisung’s voice is very deep and very convincing at 2 in the morning.

“They’re not gonna be done soon?”

He studies your hopeful features and pats your shoulder in comfort. “I don’t wanna ruin your small ray of hope, but they were going at it until 4am last night.”

Grimacing, you drop your head in defeat. “If that’s the case, then let’s go.”

That’s how you find yourselves at a creepy, run-down convenience store near your apartment, purchasing more ice cream and looking through the stalls for anything to buy.

“Hey, Hannie!” You call out to him at the back of the store, and he comes padding over with a splash of giddiness in his heart at the nickname you give him.

His friends have called him that a million times, but it sounds different coming from you. It sounds so natural, like you were always meant to say it.

He bites down his lip to prevent himself from smiling further. His heart flutters at the possibility of you being a constant in his life. Hannie, Hannie, Hannie. It slips out of your mouth so easily that he wonders if the universe purposely gave you two that neighbor for this specific moment.

For him to meet you at the main lounge and invite you to the convenience store (and into his life in the process).

Is this what those stupid male leads feel like in those romantic comedies he binge watched with Changbin?

Jisung used to think it was absolutely ridiculous to meet someone and form an entire life with them in their head, but he finds himself doing the same in all his hypocrisy.

When he arrives to where you’re standing, he watches in amusement as you spend the next few minutes trying your hand at a run-down claw machine – desperately aiming for the pompompurin keychain.

First, you play with eyes of determination and careful movements, and then you’re smashing at the buttons in frustration.

Pretty, he thinks.

He can’t help but swoon at the sight of you with an oversized hoodie, smashing at the claw machine with your eyes half open and your lips pouted in defeat.

“Want me to try?”

You’re aware that claw machines were always faulty and deceiving, but you allow Jisung to try and win the keychain that’s probably cheaper to buy than the amount of money you’ve inserted in the coin slot to play the game.

With the plastic bag of ice cream and candy on his left hand, he uses his right hand to control the stick so he can angle the claw the way he needs it. Leaning forward, he focuses on getting the keychain you’ve been aiming for, pressing the red button after a few seconds of pushing it around.

His lips twitch in a smile when he sees the claw land exactly where he needs it to be, and he sneaks a glance at your anticipating face – heart speeding up at the sight.

“Oh my god. And you got the one I wanted?!” Jisung crouches down to grab the keychain from the prize slot before handing it to you and it immediately finds its home on the zipper of your wallet.

He has a proud smile on his face when he sees you hugging your wallet to your chest with a newfound happiness brightening your features. Even the convenience store lady is impressed at how he was able to get anything from that claw machine at all.

Maybe that’s what the graveyard shift does to you. It tires you out so much that you find someone winning at the claw machine game fun.

With an ice popsicle on your hand and your wallet with your new favorite keychain on the other, you and Jisung start to make your way back to your apartment. It was getting late, and they have to be done by now.

There’s a few moments of peace before you hear Jisung audibly trying to suppress his laughter. He’s trying not to giggle, and you know exactly why.

Your jaw drops, hitting him on his upper arm before sulking.

He doesn’t even need to tell you for you to know he’s laughing at your ice cream eating skills (your popsicle’s already melting and you’ve desperately been trying to finish it before it dissipates for the past few seconds).

There’s a taunting smile on his face as he apologizes. “I’m sorryyy.” He drawls the last syllable, bumping his shoulder with yours.

“You just look so cute.”

Something ricochets in your stomach the moment he says that, and you really hope he can’t hear your heart racing over his obnoxious giggling.

Jisung doesn’t know where he got the confidence to say that aloud. He’s also hoping the streetlights are dim enough for you not to notice the redness on the tip of his ears.

When you arrive, you immediately recognize the boy hurriedly rushing out of the apartment as your neighbor’s boyfriend. And when he speeds past the pair of you with a sheepish and shy smile on his face, you immediately make eye contact with Jisung.

Another fit of laughter breaks out.

And as you laugh and giggle over the poor boy’s obvious embarrassment, your eyes drift over towards Jisung, your newfound friend and how his eyes glint with genuine happiness and how he feels so comfortable to be with.

Similarly, Jisung finds himself mirroring your gaze. Somehow, he feels that starting today, things are definitely going to change between the two of you and the possible shift of your interactions into something more constant makes his heart flutter.

Before today, Han Jisung was just another boy who lived on the same floor as you, who you shared a few small pleasantries with. However, as the pair of you walk back to your rooms with your plastic bags of popsicle and candy wrappers and the hint of laughter still bubbling in your throats, you can tell that this moment right now with him feels like the beginning of something wonderful.

You hate to be told to be grateful, but in the stupidity of your own reflection, you are. For what – you’re starting to think it has something to do with the boy next to you.

[nkplanet]

FIRST & SECOND

PAIRING: highschool!jungwon x highschool!reader SUMMARY: yang jungwon is your academic rival. the competitiveness between the two of you finally stops when you begin to crack under the pressure WARNINGS: angst (with comfort), toxic parents, jungwon is a little mean, reader skips meals/doesn’t take care of themselves, rushed ending bc i didn’t know how to end this whoopsies WORD COUNT: 1430

NOTE: happy christmas to all who celebrate! and if you don’t, i hope you’ve had a wonderful day anyway. feel free to talk to me about how your day was, even if it wasn’t the best!! 🫶 this fic is my gift to you - enjoy :)

yang jungwon had never been the nicest to you, but it wasn’t like you never reciprocated his snappy comments. sure, you were civil, but the constant competition between the two of you left things tense. even your teachers could sense it, trying to calm things down but failing miserably. you were the highest scoring students in your year, always one or two marks away from each other. some students even placed bets on which one of you would would get the highest scores after exams.

“so,” jungwon drawled from where he was sat behind you, “what do we think this time? personally, i think i’m going to exceed all expectations, and you’ll crash and burn.” you turned around and scoffed, “in your dreams, yang. we both know i’m going to be first this time.”

jungwon simply laughed at you, and you felt anger bubble up inside your chest. it was a math test and, although you were admittedly pretty good at math, jungwon beat you in every exam. his brain was somehow hardwired to remember every single topic you’d ever learned, and he wrote so impossibly fast that he often finished before many were halfway through their tests.

getting home that night, you knew your parents wouldn’t be happy. every time you had an assessment of any kind, they would ridicule you and force you to study until you passed out. tonight wouldn’t be any different.

you were immediately threatened with no dinner unless you studied, a meal which you often skipped in favour of looking over notes anyway. in fact, there were many things that you missed out during the day. you rarely stuck to a skincare routine, as they never fit into your rigorous schedules. it was rare that you really took the time to take care of yourself. although you knew it wasn’t healthy, your parents perpetuated this behaviour to the point where it was now your norm. and so, you began studying. you continued all through the night, almost forgetting to stop for a snack. it was only when you practically passed out on top of your textbooks that you stopped and had some rest.

it seemed when you woke up that your non-stop studying had finally caught up with you. you almost didn’t wake up with your alarm, and panicked after forgetting one of your books. you almost missed the bus but, when you finally got to school and embraced the peace that came with it, a nagging voice in your ear began tormenting you.

“so, almost late today? you’re really slipping, huh?” jungwon teased, leaning on your desk. you glared up at him through your lashes. “i’m not in the mood, yang. leave me alone.” “gosh, so rude. what must your parents think?” that one got you. you but your tongue, despite wanting to both cry and rip jungwon’s head off. you folded your arms and laid your head on them, effectively blocking jungwon out.

he looked confused as he walked behind you to his seat. where was your spark? normally you but him back. were his words really affecting you all that much? he stared at your slumped body in concern, absently flicking through his textbook as an attempt at some last minute revision. you stayed still, not moving a muscle. it was almost like you didn’t care anymore.

in reality, you didn’t. you’d gotten less than jungwon in that test. so much less that you placed fourth in your year. upon hearing of this, your parents went ballistic. they yelled at you, called you a failure and a disgrace, all while you simply sat and stared. you didn’t care anymore. you’d burnt yourself out, and it seemed like you didn’t want to do anything anymore.

people began to take note of your spiral. your teachers, especially, who offered you the minimum they could. you could hear your fellow students murmuring, wondering what had happened for you to fall so far. most of all, jungwon had grown increasingly worried about you. his recent quips (not that there had been many - in fact, he’d laid off a little) had gone unnoticed, and it was like nothing existed to you anymore. your grades continued to fall, as did your rivalry with jungwon.

after an essay, jungwon decided enough was enough. he stopped at your desk, tapping you on the shoulder to wake you from where you were slumped over, sleeping. “what do you want?” you mumbled, not meeting his eyes. “are you okay?” he asked. you could hear concern in his voice but failed to see how or why he felt that way. what if this was all just a trick? “i’m fine, yang. it’s none of your business anyway,” you retorted, looking away from him. “it’s just- you seem really down. you don’t talk to anyone, not even our teachers, and your grades have slipped-“ “is that was this is about? my grades? you couldn’t care less about me, you only want a competition. well, fuck you, jungwon. i don’t care anymore. i’m not gonna be your stupid punching bag.” he took a step back, looking genuinely offended. “fine. if that’s how you want it, that’s how it’ll be. good luck and good riddance.”

the next few weeks were hard. you’d come to realise that jungwon was the only person you really connected with at school, despite your rivalry. the isolation started getting to you, which was how you found yourself seeking him out. he’d been sat at his desk studying in a free period, and the classroom was almost empty. you walked up to his desk, and he looked up from his textbook.

“hi,” you said quietly, your voice cracking and tears coming to your eyes.

he stood up almost immediately, wrapping his arms around you tightly and leading you outside while you cried into his shirt. he shushed you as you continued to sob, stroking your hair. “it’s okay,” he said countless times, “you can cry.” you pushed away from him slightly, looking up at him with wet cheeks and red eyes. “i’m sorry,” you whispered. his heart broke at the sight of you.“you have nothing to be sorry about. if anything, i’m the one that’s sorry - i shouldn’t have said all those awful things to you. it was wrong of me,” he replied softly. you scoffed lightly, “we both said them, we’re both in the wrong here.” he just smiled at you.

you knew eventually you’d have to explain yourself, so you took a deep breath and looked away.

“my parents,” you started. jungwon tried to cut you off, tried to tell you that you didn’t have to tell him, but you raised a hand and continued. “my parents wanted me to be the best. they wanted me to be really smart, to go on to university and make the family proud. every time i got second place, they’d say these awful things. i just kept working harder and harder until i broke, i guess.” jungwon looked at you with something like empathy in his gorgeous eyes. “just how hard did you say you were working?” “hard,” you replied, “i know it’s not right, but sometimes i- i forget to take care of myself. i felt like i needed to forgo things so that i could be better.” he tutted, pulling you against his chest again. some nearby students gawped at you, and he sent them a terrifying glare. “you need to take care of yourself. this isn’t right.”

you simply sighed and buried yourself further into his arms. “i know, but right now i feel better than i have in weeks.” jungwon pulled away from you slightly, a scared look on his face. “listen,” he said, “i have something to tell you.” you became wary, untangling your arms from his. “i’ve liked you for a while. i guess i teased you to, i don’t know, bury the feelings? but i just can’t keep them in anymore. i really do like you.”

you couldn’t find the words to reply. he started to panic, stumbling over words to defend himself, so you did the one thing on your mind - you pulled him in by the collar of his shirt and kissed him.

he short-circuited, standing stiffly before kissing you back. one of his hands reached the back of your neck, while the other rested on your waist. when you separated, he said breathlessly, "i'm guessing that means you feel the same way?" you smiled at him, a sight he'd never be able to get enough of. "yes, you loser. i really like you too."

[xotyx]

@rosekillermicrofic | August 9th - jumper | 343 words | tw: very loose relation to the prompt, mention of…sexual recreational surgery? They’re rosekiller

Exam season was hard for both Barty and Evan. Evan, because he had to spend every waking minute hunched over textbooks studying for his O.W.L.s, and Barty because he struggled to last more than two hours without Evan’s touch, nevermind a week without Evan even looking at him.

It was the third day of what Barty mentally referred to as The Torture, and Barty was almost ready to crack. He eyed the stairs longingly, wondering if he threw himself down them Evan would spare a glance to make sure he was okay. Before he could give any more thought to the idea, Dorcas grabbed him by the wrist and dragged him to sit next to Evan, muttering under her breath how stupid he is.

“Evan,” she began, voice so sharp Evan’s eyes darted up for half a second. “Pay attention to your boyfriend. Did you know he was about to jump down the stairs just to get you to look at him?”

Evan hummed, as if none of this was a bother. Barty wanted to kiss him all over his indifferent face, see if he could make him crack a smile. He couldn’t, he already knew, he’d tried for hours before, but what he wouldn’t give to try again right now. “He’d be fine,” Evan waved the concern away. “I’ve given him an appendectomy without any anesthesia or pain medication at his request, and his problem with that situation was that I wouldn’t let him touch himself, because it was unsanitary. He would have been fine.”

Knowing he was right, Barty still crossed his arms over his chest and stuck his tongue out at Evan, who wasn’t looking at him anyway. He couldn’t just say that, not if he wasn’t planning on doing something about it. Dorcas seemed to think the same, but for different reasons. “Ew, ew, ew, ew, ew! I don’t want to know that!” She yelled, walking out of the room with her hands in the air in surrender. Barty watched a small smile grace Evan’s lip.

[togrowoldinv]

Home for the Holidays

Natasha Romanoff x Reader

When you get home from a work trip, you and Natasha reunite just in time for holiday celebrations

Note: I’m back! Sorry for the lack of fics lately. I’ve been finishing up classes for the year, studying for an exam, and getting a job lol. Plus, a little family trip to Vegas last weekend. I hope y’all enjoy this one! Happy holidays!

Natasha Masterlist 1, Natasha Masterlist 2, Natasha Masterlist 3, Main Masterlist

You’ve been gone on a business trip for four days and Natasha misses you like crazy.

She finally understands what it’s like to wait for her wife to come home as you waited for her all of those years. Nat counted down the days until she could see you again.

Your flight landed and she insisted on being at the airport even though you assured her you could get home by yourself. It was early in the morning so once she drove you home you fell into a deep slumber.

When you stir awake, Natasha is sitting up in bed next to you. She’s got a coffee in her hand and a smile on her face.

“Good morning, detka,” she says. “How did you sleep?”

“I slept okay,” you reply. “Still tired.”

She nods. You maneuver yourself over to place your head in her lap. Her soft, but strong fingers brush over your cheek.

“I’ve missed your beautiful face,” Natasha says, her voice barely above a whisper. She still gets a little shy with outright affection.

“I’ve missed you too, Natasha. What do you say we just stay in bed all day?”

“Hm,” Natasha begins. “We actually have some plans.”

“We?”

“Yeah. I made them on our behalf, but you know we’re a we. A package deal,” Nat explains.

She tries to read your expression. Maybe you’re too sleepy to read, she thinks. You just sigh and close your eyes.

“What are the plans?” You ask.

“Christmas lights with the team. Well, at least with Wanda, Steve, Sam, and Carol. They seem to be the most excited,” Natasha says.

“Carol is excited?” You ask in disbelief. She usually keeps her feelings to herself, but it’s a good sign she’s feeling like part of the team enough to be herself.

“She is. She reunited with Monica and some teenage girl that she’s bringing along. I’ll need to ask them how exactly they are connected, but yeah Carol is excited,” Natasha explains.

“Maybe I’m just tired but all of that sounds kind of insane.”

“That’s our line of work,” Nat says. “Are you ready to get up?”

“Lights happen at night,” you mumble, burying your face in Nat’s thighs.

“We’re having lunch with Yelena,” Nat says. “It’s the last time we’ll see her this year.”

You grumble and try to go back to sleep. Natasha chuckles at the way you cling to her.

“It’s going to be okay, baby. If you get too tired later we can always come back home and another type of fun,” Nat suggests.

“Oh,” you say. “Can we?”

You sit up and Natasha smirks. You’ve missed that expression.

“If we’re quick, we can probably do that right now too,” Natasha says. “What do you think, sweetheart? Do you want to show me how much you missed me, detka?”

God, was her voice always so enchanting or did you just miss her?

You find yourself nodding and leaning in to kiss Natasha. For the next 30 minutes, she welcomes you back home with fervor.

Once you get dressed, you leave to meet Yelena for lunch. Natasha brings her Christmas gift for her with you.

“You guys didn’t need to get me anything,” Yelena says. She begins to open it anyway.

“Oh, it’s fine. We-“ Natasha begins.

“Yes we did,” you interject. “You’re our family.”

You swear Yelena is about to cry, but Natasha cracks a joke about the gift effectively lightening the mood. You have no idea what the gift is honestly. Some kind of equipment for her missions.

“Thank you,” Yelena says. “I- um- I care about you both a lot.”

“I love you, Yelena. We love you,” Natasha says.

The affection from her sister makes Yelena begin to cry. Nat crosses the table and hugs her tight. You’re not sure who needed the hug more.

“Why don’t you stay with us for Christmas, Yel?” You ask her.

“Oh, I wouldn’t want to impose on your holiday,” she replies.

Despite her usual confidence, she can be a little insecure about her place in your lives. Natasha drops a little kiss to her head. Her sister folds into her further.

“You’re never imposing. It’ll be fun. Right Nat?”

“Absolutely,” Nat says. “You’re staying. I’ve decided for you.” You all three laugh.

Later that evening, Yelena tags along to the Christmas lights with the team. Everyone is happy to see you and everyone really is excited to be there. Especially Carol.

The lights and the company are perfect, but eventually you look sleepy enough for Nat to excuse you to go home. She tucks you in bed and climbs in next to you.

“Goodnight, detka,” Nat says.

“Wait, we were going to-“

“Sleep,” Nat says. “There’s time for that tomorrow. I know you’re exhausted.”

“Okay,” you reply. “I love you, Natasha.”

“I love you, y/n.”

[soleilceirinen]

Rainy nights and secret fights | Tyler Durden x fem!Reader

Summary: it's late and it's raining like it will never stop. You have nothing to lose so you call Tyler to pick you up. Little did you know he needed to recieve that call more than you.

Warning: it's a Fight Club fic, so there are mentions of blood and wounds but nothing graphic. Tyler Durden here is kind of soft and needs a hug.

Words: 1.5k

A/N: English isn't my first language, there might be mistakes. Sorry about it and thanks for reading!

MASTERLIST

During the exam period, your university’s library remains open for the whole night. During the day it is absolutely crowded with desperate students high on caffeine who will bark at you if you dare breathing too loud for their liking. But in the night time, everything hits differently. Besides you, there are only five other people studying. Almost every table is empty and the silence is kind of eerie. You like it though, it makes you feel like you are not here or there but in a liminal space.

This feeling grows every time the neon lights in the ceiling crack with their soft and constant buzzling, like a swarm of flies. The rain sounds are a plus. It helps you concentrate, like a distant and rhythmic background noise. 

About three hours after the last remaining guy left, leaving you completely alone except for the lines of shelves filled up with thousands of books, you decide that you’ve had enough. There’s no point in trying to fit more information into your head when your brain is half burned by now. If you were to keep studying, probably your mind would collapse. 

After placing all your notes and the books that fit into your backpack, you grab the biggest one and hold it against your chest with your arm. This one is heavy. You check your phone, it’s almost 4 a.m. 

You walk through the now empty library in the exit direction, only to stop right in front of the double clear doors. It’s still raining. No, more than that. It seems that the skies have opened and the water is pouring like it's the end of the world. There are going to be floods if it keeps raining like that, you think. 

No one is there to hear you but anyway, you curse softly, under your breath. The walk to your flat will take you at least twenty minutes and with this weather you’ll have no chance to get there without turning into a drenched mess. The moment you set foot out of the building you’ll be soaked. You check your phone again. It’s 4 a.m. now. Should you call Tyler?

He might be awake. You don’t know exactly what it is that keeps him awake almost every night. He’s not allowed to talk about it and you won’t ask. So you have no doubts that he won’t be sleeping at this time, like normal people should. After all, your boyfriend wasn’t like any other person you had ever met.

You press the calling button and bring the device to your ear. He answers after a few seconds and remains quiet, but you can hear him breathing at the other side of the line. 

“Ty, are you busy right now?” Your voice sounds weird in your ears, it breaks the peaceful silence surrounding you. 

“Are you alright?” Tyler sounds tense and there is a lot of noise behind him. He’s perfectly awake. You bit the inside of your cheek, regretting calling him with every passing second. 

“I’m fine, nevermind. I’ll call you tomorrow”. Before you can end the call, his voice calls your name louder, in a way that isn’t aggressive but sounds authoritative enough to make you return the phone to its previous place next to your ear. “Yes?” 

“Tell me. You wouldn’t have called if it were nothing”.

“Well, it’s raining like hell and I don’t know how to get back home without becoming a soaking mess. I’m at the library, by the way, I don’t remember if I told you before. You must be busy, I can hear a lot of noise, it’s okay Ty…” 

“Wait there,” he says and then the call is over.

So you wait sitting in one of the benches in the lobby, from where you can see the street outside. It’s uncomfortable and your back hurts, probably not just because of the rigid surface of the bench but also because you’ve spent the last hours leaning over your notes and books. 

It’s 4:30 a.m. when Tyler’s car stops in front of the library building. The engine is on, he’s waiting for you to get in. You try to run to the passenger door as fast as you can without slipping and falling, which would be quite pathetic, while holding the book close to your body in an attempt to protect it from the rain. 

The inside of the car is dark and smells like cigarettes and leather, as well as Tyler’s scent. It is hard to describe but is inevitably characteristic of him. Is the same smell that lingers in your bed sheets long after he’s gone and in the t-shirts that you steal from him. 

He doesn’t lean over you to give you a kiss. Instead, he stays stoic as he stares at the pouring rain, almost as if he didn’t want you to see his face, while he waits for you to get settled. The only thing that you can see of him is his profile and damn him, he looks like a god. Probably not a good one. 

Tyler drives in silence to your flat. It’s not in the best part of the city but it isn’t in the worst part either and the rent is cheap, although it makes kind of sense. Your flat is fine but the building itself looks like a horror movie set. 

When he stops in front of your building, it doesn’t seem that he’s going to say anything so you move your hand really slowly and touch the skin of his wrist with your fingertips, right where the sleeve of his red leather jacket ends. You don’t know it but your touch is the softest thing he has felt that night. Tyler turns his head and looks at you in the darkness. 

“Do you want to come inside?” You ask him, not sure of what he’s going to say, but he nods. 

He follows you inside the building. You only know that he is behind you because you can hear his heavy footsteps, as well as the always present smell of his cigarettes. When you look over your shoulder out of habit and catch a glimpse of his face, you can’t help but let out a surprised gasp. 

It’s not like you’ve never seen Tyler all bruised and covered in blood. Actually, that’s kind of normal with him. But this caught you by surprise, you understand now why he didn’t even want to look in your direction in the car, so you couldn’t see his state.

His face is covered in cuts and the old bruises are hard to tell apart from the new ones. Even his t-shirt under the jacket is drenched in red. The shitty lights of the building hallways don’t help, it casts strange shadows to his face, making him look sickly dead. He just gives you an impassive look and keeps smoking. 

Once inside your flat, you drop your backpack and the book next to the living room side table and turn around to face Tyler. “Why don’t you take a shower?” 

He shrugs but listens to you, tossing his clothes on the floor as he walks towards the bathroom. The shower doesn’t last more than two minutes but that’s enough for you to pick up his bloodied clothes and put them in the washing machine. The blood stains are not going to disappear but at least he’ll have clean clothes to wear later. You also grab a bottle of alcohol and some gauze.

Tyler comes out of the bathroom smelling like your favourite shampoo. He’s wearing your bathrobe, which is too small for him but he doesn’t seem to care. When he sits in one of the chairs around the kitchen table, you can see his balls and dick poking out of the robe. 

You stand between his legs, and as carefully as you can, you bring a piece of gauze soaked in alcohol to his face. Now that he has washed away most of the blood you are able to see the open wounds better. He flinches slightly at first but then he relaxes under your delicate hands.  When you finish cleaning all the cuts, you caress the skin around them, feeling a knot in your stomach when he closes his eyes and leans his face on your hand. With your other hand you brush your fingers through his hair and he lets out a long sigh. 

You don’t know what to say. Usually, Tyler is nothing like this. He’s energetic and never shuts his mouth, always talking about things that are beyond your understanding. So you say nothing and simply hold him, caressing his cheekbones, his hair, his shoulders. 

He grabs the back of your thighs and pushes you a bit closer to him if that’s even possible. His hands are calloused and only a couple hours ago he has used them to beat the shit out of a few guys. But the way he touches you is different, he’s gentle and soft. He promised himself to keep you out of all the violence, to keep you safe. 

Tyler has never told you and probably never will but you are the nicest thing in his life. Suddenly, he opens his eyes, the left one can’t be open all the way but it doesn’t matter. He leans his chin against your abdomen and stares at your face. There’s no need to say anything because when your eyes meet, you can feel how much you mean to him. 

It’s unspoken but it’s there.

[r2d2lover]

The Truth Slips Pt. 2

Paring: Fred Weasley X Reader

Rating: E

Word Count: 1.5k

Warnings: Public sex. Unprotected sex. Blowjobs.

Summary:

Request: can you write a part 2 where they explore some more of reader’s fantasies?

Fred decides to act on a fantasy that you divulge to him while under the influence of Veritaserum.

(Quick little library moment while I try to get back into the writing groove)

Fred secretly liked the covert meetings between you and him. He liked how your face would turn bright red when he would whisper something filthy in your ear while passing classes, but his favorite was when he’d catch you staring at him during Potions or in the library. He’d send a smirk or a wink back towards you, making you cough in embarrassment and go back to ferociously writing notes. He liked the mystery you kept about yourself regarding him and he was determined to make you crack. Fred thought about that night with the Veritaserum often, especially about the hidden fantasies you held about him. He knew about what you thought about while the two of you were in the library and he was waiting for the perfect moment to catch you off-guard.

The library was abuzz during the finals season, and you and Fred joined the ranks of other Hogwarts students cramming in last-minute studying before winter break. Unfortunately (or rather, fortunately), the Potions exam was the last scheduled practical for the school, meaning that the both of you had to stay behind while your peers started filtering out for winter break. For Fred, this provided an opportunity to take advantage of the growing emptiness of the library. As the end of the week neared, the library’s population had waned to host only those taking N.E.W.T-level Potions and even then, most of the other students were focused on the practical part of the exam and were probably studying in the dungeons. Fred had managed to convince you to do the practical exercise first so that you two could “study better” in a quieter library at the end of the week. On the night before the exam, Fred knew his plan had worked out perfectly.

You were strictly no-nonsense about your studying, but as the two of you approached hour two of studying, Fred could see you were getting antsy and needed a study break. 

“I don’t understand the difference between these two ingredients,” You sighed exasperatedly, leaning in closer to Fred. He chuckled and pulled out his notes, showing you what he had written down. You leaned in so close that he could smell your shampoo and he clenched his fist in a feeble attempt to restrain himself. 

“Gods, it was right in front of me,” You curse, going back to your notes.

“We’ve been at this for hours now. Maybe we need a little break,” Fred suggested, waiting for your gaze to meet his.

“Mmm, give me a second,” You said without looking up. Fred shifted in his chair so that he sat closer to you and placed a hand on your bare knee. The gesture definitely caught your attention and you looked up at him with a stunned expression. Fred mentioned something about a break again, slowly sliding his hand up your thigh.

“Fred! There’s still people around,” You stammered, placing your hand over his. 

“Oh, please. Our corner is empty. And if I remember correctly, isn’t this something that you always thought about?” Fred smirked, making you turn a deep scarlet. You reluctantly loosened your grip on his hand, making Fred chuckle. He slid his hand further up your skirt until he could practically feel the heat radiating from your core. Fred hummed as he looked back at your unfinished notes.

“Don’t let me stop you. Finish what you were writing,” Fred bit his lip, entranced by your ragged breathing. You let out a small yelp when he moved his hand to squeeze your inner thigh and shakily went back to finish the sentence you were working on. Fred continued to drag his hand up with a painfully slow pace until he could hook a teasing finger underneath the waistband of your underwear. He traced the outline of your underwear, keeping his finger hooked. At this moment, you had clenched your thighs together in an attempt for some friction, so Fred used his other hand to open your legs so he could work his finger to your core.

“You like the idea of getting caught, don’t you? It must be nice to finally get one of your fantasies to play out, huh? How naughty,” Fred drawled and on the last word, he dragged his finger through your slick, making you gasp with a jump. Fred placed a small kiss on your neck as he started to rub circles on your clit. You choked back a moan and nervously looked around you, but Fred knew that the back of the library was all his. “Good… you better stay quiet.”

You bit your lip as Fred inserted a finger and he couldn’t help but whisper about how pretty you looked. Each curl proved harder for you to keep quiet and Fred was delighted. The tent in his pants was growing with every head toss that you gave and choked moan that you held back. When he inserted a second finger, the pressure building against his belt was almost unbearable. Fred slowed his fingers, giving you an opportunity to look down at his crotch and you reached a nervous hand across the chair to give him a squeeze. Fred could barely hide his groan and removed his hand from you. You let out a small sigh of dismay, but your demeanor quickly changed as you watched Fred undo his belt and start to unsheathe himself.

“Let me taste you,” You whispered, making Fred’s head spin. He watched dizzily as you got off of your chair and knelt before him under the table. Your movements were a bit apprehensive, but Fred gently guided your hand up and down his shaft, quietly encouraging you to place your mouth upon him. Without hesitation, you licked a thin stripe on the underside of his cock, then slowly wrapped your lips around his sensitive head. Fred let out a low groan and tangled his hands into your hair, pulling you closer. While the start was a bit rocky, you found your rhythm rather quickly and Fred could only throw his head back and focus on keeping quiet. The soft noises of you choking on his length distracted him from where he was. Your other hand twisted around the area that you couldn’t fit into your mouth and the familiar feeling of release was starting to build in Fred’s stomach. He gently pushed you off of him because he wanted the first time that he finished on your face to be an opportunity he could savor and the table was obscuring such a sight. 

“Sit on my lap,” Fred instructed and you happily obliged without second thought. The jitters from earlier were replaced by an aroused excitement. “With what you were doing down there, I don’t think I’ll last long.”

You giggled at Fred’s comment and quickly sat up from under the table to his lap. Fred looked around once more to see if anyone had heard the previous actions, but to his satisfaction, nobody bothered to look in the dimly lit back part of the library. Fred placed a firm hand on your ass and moved aside your underwear to insert himself. He encouraged you to sit down and removed his hand to bring your face in closer for a kiss. As you lowered yourself on to him, you let out a rather loud moan into his lips that made him laugh. Fred reminded you to be quiet and you threw your head into his shoulder.

“Fuck,” You whispered with a hiss into his ear. Fred grunted as he moved his hands to your hips, facilitating the movement up and down. He could barely keep quiet, especially since you were mumbling filth into his ears. When you understood the movement, Fred removed one of his hands to trail towards your clit. The sensation made you bury your head further into his neck and your restrained whimpers sent a sweet vibration through his body.

“Fred, I think I’m close,” You attempted to whisper but your breath hitched as your assumption was correct. Fred steadied your bucking hips when he felt your walls tighten around him and he felt his own vision start to blur. You leaned into his ear close, rambling his name as your thighs started to shake.

“Love, fuck, can I finish inside of you?” Fred asked quickly, teetering on the edge of his own release.

“Y-yes, fill me,” You said lazily and your words were just what Fred needed. He leaned forward, biting the soft skin of your collarbone to silence himself as he finished, making you yelp in surprise. You shakily climbed off of his lap, breathing still ragged. Fred could feel the sweat on his forehead slicking his hair back. He regained his composure before shooting a grin at you.

“We’ll have to get cleaned up before we get back to studying,” Fred teased, reaching over to smooth down your hair.

“In the prefect bath?” You asked with a glint in your eyes. Gods, there was no way that you were serious.

“Ah, another one of your fantasies?” Fred joked, biting his lip as he watched you quickly gather up your things.

“Why don’t you find out?” You teased uncharacteristically. 

“I’ve created a monster,” Fred replied, letting you pull him towards the Faculty Wing without protest.

[winxanity-ii]

UNCONVENTIONAL ALLIES

ship: deadpool!gojo x fem!mutant!reader x wolverine!geto warnings: non-explicit word count: 3.3k a/n: Writing this was so much fun! I just love blending different worlds and seeing what kind of chaos unfolds 😂. Hope you enjoy this wild ride! 💖

★·.·´🇯‌🇺‌🇯‌🇺‌🇹‌🇸‌🇺‌ 🇰‌🇦‌🇮‌🇸‌🇪‌🇳‌ 🇲‌🇦‌🇸‌🇹‌🇪‌🇷‌🇱‌🇮‌🇸‌🇹‌`·.·★

You were sitting at a dingy, neon-lit bar tucked away in a forgotten corner of the city.

The place smelled of stale beer, fried food, and something musty that clung to the faded upholstery of the worn-out bar stools.

A jukebox in the corner plays a muffled tune, the kind that barely competes with the low hum of conversation and the occasional clatter of pool balls.

The air was thick, not just with the haze of cigarette smoke but with the weight of a thousand stories that had soaked into the cracked wooden walls over the years.

You were hunched over a dog-eared copy of your Anatomy & Physiology textbook, muttering terms under your breath like some sort of desperate mantra—brachialis, trapezius, sternocleidomastoid—trying to cram as much information as you could before your brain decided it's had enough.

You had read the same sentence three times now, and each time the words made less sense than before. Frustration bubbled up in your chest.

With a heavy sigh, you sat back and threw your head back against the creaky barstool, feeling the weight of everything crashing down on you at once.

The looming specter of your upcoming exam was like a shadow over your thoughts, a constant reminder of how much was riding on you passing this class.

Your mind raced, not just with the material you were supposed to be studying, but with the overwhelming tide of stress that came from being swamped in thousands upon thousands of dollars in student loans.

Every page you turned felt like another reminder of just how deep you were in. And as if that wasn't enough, the thought of returning to your messy, noisy dorm made you groan inwardly.

Your roommate had been a nightmare lately—blasting music at odd hours, leaving her stuff everywhere, and treating the place like her personal dumping ground. It was impossible to find peace, and it was driving you insane.

You reached over for your drink—a grapefruit High Noon, the only small comfort you had allowed yourself tonight. The cold, fizzy liquid was a slight balm against the headache building behind your eyes.

You took a long sip, letting the bitterness wash over your tongue as you tried to drown out the noise around you and the noise in your head.

Just as you were about to return to the same sentence you had been trying to absorb for the last ten minutes, you noticed movement at the far end of the bar. Two guys slipped in, almost unnoticed, except for the way they carried themselves—like they weren't just walking into a bar, but onto a stage.

One was wearing a skintight red and black suit that clung to his lean, muscular frame, showcasing his agility and strength. The suit had a dark, almost tactical look, with black patches accentuating the deep red fabric. It was all about practicality and style, with twin katanas strapped to his back in a sleek 'X' formation, ready to be drawn at a moment’s notice.

His mask was a full-head covering, stretching tightly over every contour, leaving no part of his face nor hair exposed. The eye areas were reinforced with black outlines, creating a stark contrast against the red, giving the impression of expressive eyes even though they were hidden.

Overall, he looked like he was dressed for battle, but even then, there was a playfulness in his stance, like he was just waiting for the fun to start.

The other guy was in all black. His outfit fully leather, tough but flexible, perfect for someone who needed to move fast and hit hard. It was sleek, with subtle detailing that caught the light when he shifted. Over his eyes, he wore a sharp mask, a slim black visor that added to his already intimidating presence. His long black hair is tied back into a neat bun at the back of his head, adding a touch of elegance to his otherwise rugged appearance. His hands were gloved, with a weird alteration that freed his knuckles on up.

The whole look was one of power and precision, every inch of him screaming danger, but in a way that was somehow... controlled. Like he was the kind of guy who didn't make idle threats.

Together, they were an odd pair—one dressed like he was ready for a chaotic spree, the other like he was here to end a war. And yet, there was a strange harmony between them, like they had been through this dance a hundred times before.

"What's with these two?" you muttered under your breath with a snort, flipping a page in your textbook without really seeing it. "Comic-Con isn't for another month."

The two men walked further into the bar, their steps measured and purposeful. A few patrons glanced their way, curiosity flickering in their eyes for a moment before they turned back to their drinks and quiet conversations, uninterested in the newcomers.

You silently watched from your tucked-away spot, noting how out of place they looked against the bar's grimy, dimly lit backdrop.

They made their way to the bar, their movements fluid yet distinct—one with a swagger that screamed "look at me," the other moving like a shadow, quiet and precise.

Thinking this was the end of it, you forced yourself to refocus on your textbook, trying to absorb the intricate connection of human muscles that had been eluding you all night.

Just as you started to get a grip on the complex anatomy, two shadows fell over your book, fully obscuring what little light the dim bar offered.

You sucked your teeth with an annoyed "tch," glaring up, ready to tell off whichever group of men thought they'd get lucky tonight. But your words got caught in your throat when you realized who was standing before you—the two men from earlier.

The one in red, who now sat in the seat next to you, had a vibrant galaxy cocktail in hand, stirring it with a straw like he had all the time in the world.

You blinked, momentarily taken aback by the surreal scene, but quickly got back on track. With a disinterested, sarcastic tone, you asked, "What could I possibly help you two gentlemen with?"

The man in black opened his mouth to speak, but the one in red jumped in. "Oh, there's a lot you could help us with! Cooking, lending us some cash, maybe even—"

"Deadpool," the one in black interrupted, his tone flat but carrying a note of irritation.

The man in red's head snapped towards him. "Huh? What's up?"

The one in black groaned, rubbing the bridge of his nose with clear exasperation. He turned to you, his demeanor shifting to something almost apologetic. "We don't mean to interrupt your evening, but we're looking for 'Y/N.' We've asked around and heard that she often frequents this bar."

For a moment, you just sat there, heart pounding in your chest. Your mind was racing, but outwardly, you kept your expression cool and passive.

You tilted your head and nodded realistically, pretending to be unfazed. "Oh, Y/N? She's my roommate. We come here sometimes to study for our exams, but she flaked on me tonight. Guess she got caught up," You paused, then asked casually, "What do you need from her? I can pass along a message if you'd like."

The two men exchanged a glance, and the one in red burst out with a long, drawn-out "Wow, you're good!" He turned to his companion, still twirling his straw in his drink. "Bro, if we didn't have a pic, I'd 100% believe her," he said, holding both hands up in mock surrender.

You froze, your breath hitching in your throat. Your mind raced, a thousand thoughts per second.

Before you could think of a way to escape or talk your way out, the man in red turned back to you. "Look, toots, I'll be honest—we need you. Now, I understand how scary this may be, two men coming in and searching for little ol' you, but you have no worries, I promise."

The man in black spoke up, his tone more measured. "Yes, like he said, we're not here to harm you. We just—"

His friend cut him off, leaning in closer. "You want to trust us? Look," he said, before abruptly reaching up and pulling off his mask. "Bam! Face reveal!"

Underneath the mask, his features were striking: bright blue eyes that practically glowed in the dim light of the bar, and a handsome face with sharp cheekbones and a strong jawline. His hair was cut short in a buzzcut, white as freshly fallen snow, adding a stark contrast to the dim, smoky atmosphere around him.

His skin was marked with faint burn scars, lines and patches that wove across his face like a map of past battles and close calls. Yet, these scars didn't detract from his appearance; they only added to his rugged, mysterious allure, hinting at the untold stories and experiences that lay beneath the surface.

The one in black sputtered, "D-Deadpool, what the fu—"

"You can stop with the code names, Geto," the man in said with a smirk. "We gotta get her to trust us."

The one in black—Geto—groaned, pinching the bridge of his nose again in frustration. "At my expense, though?"

Deadpool shrugged nonchalantly, leaning on his hands and tilting his head down to take a sip from his drink. "Why wouldn't I? You expect me to call you 'Wolverine' all night yet we know her name? I wouldn't trust us either."

Geto groans again, his patience clearly wearing thin. "Again with the 'trust us' bullshit. That still doesn't give a good reason why you revealed my fucking name and not your own.”

Deadpool just lets out a giggle, shrugging again with a carefree grin. "Oops?"

Geto stared at him blankly for a moment before bluntly stating, "Fuck you, Gojo Satoru."

Gojo's mouth dropped open in mock shock. "W-Wha… why… my entire name, bro??? Even the damn Japanese format???"

Geto just ignored his outburst, turning his attention back to you, his expression serious once more. "Now, as I was saying, we've been searching for you."

You blinked, snapping yourself out of the mini-panic swirling in your mind, now acutely aware of the two men surrounding you—Gojo sitting casually beside you and Geto standing in front of you with a more guarded stance.

"And why would that be?" you asked cautiously, trying to mask the nervous energy coursing through you.

Gojo, never one to let a moment of tension linger, cut in with a playful grin. "Because our jobs tend to get really messy, and we need a pair of healing hands for quicker recovery times. Besides, something's telling me you might be up for a little adventure."

You raised an eyebrow and snorted, unimpressed by his casual tone. "And why would I want to do that?"

Geto finally spoke up, his voice gravelly and weighted with a seriousness that cut through Gojo's playful demeanor. "You look knowledgeable in the medical field," he said plainly. "And like Gojo said, our line of work tends to need that kind of expertise."

Before you could even think of a response, Gojo jumped back in, his grin widening even more. "Plus, we've got a feeling you'd make a great addition to our little team. It's not every day you find a cute healer; most tend to be old crones."

And there it was. The mention of your healing powers.

You're not sure how, but it seemed like no matter where you went, that knowledge always managed to catch up with you.

Being a mutant wasn't something you advertised; it wasn't something you wore on your sleeve. Especially not in a world where the line between acceptance and fear was still razor-thin, where prejudice against mutants ran deep.

You'd learned early on to keep your abilities under wraps.

The hate and mistrust toward mutants had only grown more intense over the years, with some humans seeing you as a threat rather than a person.

Sure, there were heroes and vigilante groups like the X-Men who fought for mutant rights and tried to prove that mutants could be protectors, not dangers. But still, the divide remained. A silent, persistent wall between those who could heal and those who only knew how to fear.

It wasn't just about staying safe. It was about maintaining some semblance of a normal life, of blending in.

The last thing you needed was to be dragged into the chaos of someone else's fight, to be seen as a tool rather than a person. Yet here you were, once again, your secret laid bare before these strangers who seemed to know more about you than you were comfortable with.

You swallow hard, trying to keep your expression neutral, ready to tell them you had absolutely no interest in whatever scheme they were trying to pull you into. But before the words left your mouth, the door to the bar slammed open, the sound echoing through the room like a gunshot.

A group of burly men stormed in, instantly grabbing the attention of everyone present. The leader—a rough-looking guy with a missing hand, which was poorly wrapped in a blood-soaked bandage—scanned the room with a snarl until his eyes landed on Gojo.

His face contorted into a scowl as he pointed his bleeding nub directly in your direction. "That's them!" he growled, his voice filled with fury. "Get those bastards!"

Before you could even react, the men charged forward, but Gojo's grin only grew wider, like he had been waiting for this exact moment. Suddenly, he threw a hand up, shouting, "Wait!"

The men paused, looking confused, their momentum halted by the unexpected command.

Gojo stood up slowly, the corners of his mouth curling into a mischievous smirk as he loudly slurped down the rest of his cocktail.

He released an exaggerated "Ahhh" of satisfaction, savoring the last drop before shoving his mask back on with a quick flick of his wrist. He turned to the men with a gleeful expression and said, "Okay, I'm ready, boys~."

Without missing a beat, he launched himself into the fray.

The bar erupted into chaos.

Gojo moved like a blur, dodging a punch with a fluid twist of his body, then delivering a quick jab to his attacker’s gut.

It was almost like a dance, his movements graceful yet deadly.

He ducked under a swing, flipped over a table with the ease of a seasoned acrobat, and landed a perfectly timed kick that sent one guy crashing into the jukebox, which sputtered and then blasted out distorted music. "Nice try, but you're gonna have to do better than that!" he quipped, his voice filled with that unmistakable humor.

Geto was a stark contrast. All raw power and precision, he grabbed one of the men by the collar and slammed him into the nearest wall.

The impact left a dent in the plaster, and the guy crumpled to the floor, unconscious.

Geto didn't waste a single movement—every punch, every kick was delivered with a calculated brutality meant to incapacitate. "Stay down, monkey," he muttered, his voice low and dangerous, as he drove a knee into another attacker's stomach, sending him reeling backward into a table, which collapsed under the weight.

As the fight intensified, bar patrons started scrambling for the exit, knocking over chairs and tables in their haste to escape.

The bartender, a burly man with a grizzled beard, stepped out from behind the bar, shouting above the noise. "Hey! You're gonna pay for this mess! Take your fight outside, or I'll—"

Before he could finish his sentence, the leader with the missing hand growled in frustration. "Shut up!" He grabbed a glass from the bar with his good hand and hurled it at the bartender, the glass shattering against his skull.

The bartender stumbled back, eyes wide with shock, before collapsing behind the counter, blood pooling around his head.

The violence seemed to escalate, everything becoming a blur of fists, broken glass, and shouts.

A chair flew across the room, smashing into the wall near where you were crouched, and you instinctively threw up your arms to shield yourself from the splinters. Heart racing, you knew you had to get out, but the chaos was overwhelming.

One of the attackers swung a metal pipe at Gojo, who effortlessly sidestepped and countered with a spinning kick that knocked the man off his feet and sent him sliding across the bar’s sticky floor. "You guys really know how to make a guy feel special~" Gojo laughed, eyes alight with adrenaline.

Wide-eyed, you stuttered, "H-Holy shit," as your flight set in. Hastily, you tried to pack up all your things, shoving books and papers into your backpack with trembling hands.

Just as you threw the bag over your shoulders and turned to make a run for it, a rough hand reached out and grabbed your puffed ponytail in a tight grip.

"Where do ya think you're going, girly? Leavin' your crew so soon?" a gruff voice sneered.

You looked up to find one of the thugs grinning down at you with a mouth full of yellowed teeth.

Desperation bubbled up as you blubbered, "L-Look, I have nothing to do with this, I swear! I'm just a struggling college student!" You weakly rubbed your hands together, hoping to somehow appeal to his sense of mercy—if he even had one.

The man let out a wet cackle, but just as dread washed over you and you thought your life was about to end, his eyes widened in shock. An arm had looped around his neck from behind, pulling him back with surprising strength.

It was Geto.

"That's no way to treat a lady, now is it?" he growled into the man's ear, his voice low and dangerous.

With his free hand, Geto shot his arm out, and you watched in stunned silence as three sharp metal claws extended from between his knuckles with a sharp "snikt."

In one swift motion, Geto slashed upward, driving the claws through the man's head with a sickening gurgle. His movements were methodical, almost surgical—each strike designed not just to disable, but to finish his opponent swiftly and efficiently.

"This is getting messy," he muttered, casting a quick glance your way. "Stay low and keep your head down."

A small splatter of fresh blood dotted your face, hot and sticky. Too shocked to speak, you could only nod wordlessly, your heart hammering in your chest.

A flash of metal cut through the dim light as Geto disarmed another attacker, the weapon clattering to the ground.

The jukebox, now playing a scratchy rendition of an old rock song, suddenly exploded into sparks as another attacker was thrown against it, his weight too much for the old machine to bear.

The smell of burning circuitry filled the air, mixing with the scent of spilled alcohol and the coppery tang of blood.

Just as you thought things couldn't get any worse, the leader of the group grabbed a table leg and charged at Geto with a wild roar. He swung the makeshift club with all his might, but Geto sidestepped, letting the momentum carry the leader past him.

Geto turned and delivered a punishing elbow to the back of the leader’s neck, sending him crashing to the ground.

With a few men down, Gojo turned to you, his eyes sparkling with amusement despite the chaos. "Looks like you're coming with us, whether you like it or not," he teased, and before you could argue, he rushed over, scooping you up over his shoulder as if you weighed nothing. "Hang on tight, princess!"

You began shouting, "Wait—what!? You can't be serious!!" just as your world flipped upside down in an instant.

Gojo's grip was surprisingly firm, and you were jostled around like a ragdoll as he darted through the chaos of the bar, cackling like a madman. Chairs and debris flew past, and you clutched onto him, trying not to lose your dinner.

Geto, maintaining his composure amidst the chaos, bent down to grab your bag and textbooks. He gave you an apologetic glance, his expression almost soft despite the situation. "Sorry about this," he said, his voice calm amidst the madness.

The three of you burst through the bar's front door and into the cool night air.

The sharp contrast between the smoky, dim interior of the bar and the crisp, open night sky made everything feel surreal, like you had stepped out of one world and into another.

Gojo's laughter echoed in your ears, wild and free, mingling with the distant sounds of the ongoing brawl behind you. "Trust me," he shouted over his shoulder, not slowing his pace even a little, "we're gonna have a lot of fun!"

As Gojo sprinted down the street, weaving through narrow alleys with you still slung over his shoulder, you let out a small, incredulous laugh.

It was half at the absurdity of the situation and half at the exhilarating sense of liberation coursing through you.

Because at the end of it all, against all odds...

...he might just be right.

A/N: hi guys! just wanted to post this after watching the new deadpool wolverine movie and binging on SatoSugu x reader fics, so hope this wasn't a too bad of a read; not sure if i'll actually do more of this or not 😩also, sorry for being gone for so long, finally dug myself up out of my lil ball of anger/sadness. now that i'm back at the dorm, i hope to bring you guys more of the lil delusions i have swimming about ❤️❤️