#i have two goddamn exams tomorrow

[stillprocrastinatingsorry]

Mystic Malfunction

Once I get good at backgrounds and lighting, world watch out.

[iron-niffler]

fucking losing it rn lmao

[gorejo]

▸ I'LL MEET YOU FOREVER IN THIS MEMORY. - GOJO SATORU. forbes30!gojo

synopsis: he'll argue it's fate — a divine moment — that he's always in your proximity, and you call it bullshit. he says his class was in the same building, panting with a sweat pebbling on his forehead, yet you've seen him run across campus just couple minutes prior as he awkwardly stood in front of you. he's a man on a mission, determined to succeed. to have you finally fall for him.

content: wc: 6.6 k (sigh), fluff, light cursing, uses of she/her to align with the original au but the fic can be read without it. reader lovingly calls him stupid for one part and is shorter than him because the man is canonically tall af. petnames (babe, sweetheart, angel). slight nsfw towards the end, Gojo calls himself daddy in one scene just for jokes. college forbes30!gojo !!

There was nothing but the sound of chalk hitting the board, the frustrated sighs of students trying to keep up, and the monotonous tone of Takashi sensei talking that filled the lecture hall. 

Students hastily typed on their electronics, while others chose to go old-fashioned with simple pen and paper. 

But for Gojo Satoru, none of that mattered, really.  

11:47.

Impatiently shaking his legs, his body just barely fitting in the cramped seat, uncaring if the attendant in front of him sent multiple glares for his crude manner of bumping his knees against the back — why the hell were these spaces always so damn cramped? 

Satoru released another long sigh as he clicked open his phone to check the time, again.

Infuriatingly, it was still fucking 11:47.

It'll take me about six minutes to get to the quad, and another five to make it to the east building...

“Dammit,” Satoru cursed, his supposed whisper radiating a bit too loudly throughout the silent hall as he slumped further into his seat groaning as his impatience imbued his mind with thoughts. 

One more minute and it’ll be just enough time to make it over —

"Satoru-kun,” releasing an annoyed sigh, “would you mind sharing with the class what could’ve gotten you so possibly worked up today?” his professor questioned without even turning his back to look at who just so rudely interrupted his class — again. 

What excuse should I make today? Maybe I can leave now and act as if —

“Satoru-kun?” The professor's voice laced with irritation as he put the chalk down, the click of the powder hitting the rail echoed throughout the auditorium — no one dared to speak a word — not especially when the semester was so close to ending. 

“Can you answer this question because you seem to be awfully more interested in something else rather than studying for your exam tomorrow?”

maybe I can ask her to study for finals? Oh, that’s good… I can show how studious and dependable I am, and then maybe she’ll fall for me. Goddamn call me a genius! But wait — fuck, I can’t use that because — 

“Satoru, uh… sensei's coming,” Gojo felt a nudge on his side, his colleague nervously squirming in his seat, whispering to get his attention but yet it went unacknowledged — far over Satoru’s head — surely, the man currently had other priorities than to be rotting in business calculus. 

Business calculus… the bane of his existence, his utter torture of attending every session, a complete fifty minutes wasted three times a week just for him to sit there and ponder about something else — most of the time, it was him getting antsy to get to you.

It was much to everyone’s surprise that he even went to all his lectures — the one student no one ever expects to have perfect attendance for a class he gives two shits about — well, he does give a shit because it’s all for his plan. 

…. 

“So tell me why you’re trying to take this class?” His best friend glanced over Satoru’s shoulder. 

“Don’t bother me, I can’t multi-task,” Gojo murmured, ignoring his raven hair friend as he lightly bit his lips, furiously typing up his course number into the system, his back hunched as he anxiously stared at his loading computer screen, “never thought getting a class would be so stressful," Satoru groaned.

“Why are you so stressed, it’s unlike you,” Geto’s voice was serene, “and what other dumb shit are you up to?” he chuckled while taking a sip of his coffee. 

“It’s not dumb,” Satoru shot back.

“You tested out of calculus, Satoru.”

“So what?” he grumbled — just a couple seconds more…

Geto didn’t quite understand why Gojo had to go to such lengths, completely acting out of his character as he pitifully waited for his screen to load.

He’d never seen his friend so riled up about something so simple. The last time Satoru got like this was a couple of years back when a small pastry shop he searched online closed an hour before they got there. His defeat and whines were understandable since the trip took three hours by train.

But this… yea, Suguru couldn’t quite put a finger on it… well not until a very minor dialogue he had with a certain someone, such small talk that even he forgot that it occurred a semester prior.

“Are you by chance doing this because —”

Cutting him off, “fuck…” was all Suguru heard as his best friend rested his forehead on his arm, body slumping from the adrenal fatigue.

In bold, a message read: 

Congrats! You have successfully registered for all your classes

Perhaps, it wouldn't hurt to learn a bit more about limits and infinities, Satoru thought before taking a nap in the library.

….

Or I can ask if she can help me study. because she’s good at that, right? she’s always at the library, always ignoring my texts because of her goddamn exams…

Gojo pondered, crossing his arms with his index and thumb rubbing against his chin, his cheeks squeezed while furrowing his brows. 

but fuck, that means I won’t be able to talk to her because last time — I mean, it’s been a month since then, maybe it’ll be different now, I figure we got closer. she's smiling a bit more and we’ve gone on a couple of dates… I suppose — 

… 

“Psst,” Gojo harshly whispered from across the table, “psst!” 

Glaring at him over your laptop, eyes sparkling and round, face needy for attention, “what do you want?” You spat out.

“Just wondering,” Gojo chirped, his ears perked in your direction with his elbows resting on the table, body leaning towards your direction, “Have you fallen for me yet?”

“No, you’re not my type.” you retorted emotionless.

“What’s your type then?” Gojo countered, unfazed, smiling as he challenged your words. 

“Someone, not Gojo Satoru.”

“Well, aren’t you spicy?” He stretched out his legs while leaning back on his chair, boyishly smiling with his arms thrown behind his neck, the lean physique of his body outlined in this position — he looked hot, no doubt about that, and… he knew that. 

“but i’m just going to tell you now,” cocking his head to the side, licking his soft lips that shined a pretty pink, confidently proclaiming, 

“there will come a day when your words will bite you in the ass.”

“Did your parents ever teach you about having some class  —“ 

“Can you guys lower it down, or move someplace else?” a student hushed, stating through gritted teeth as he witnessed the tortuous and unforgivable sight of you both, love, bantering in the library of all places. 

“Sorry,” you mumbled, apologetically smiling at them before facing forward to meet your stalker — you swore he was stalking you because there was no way he and you could have this many “random” encounters, that would work out so perfectly with him just magically appearing wherever you go — it's bullshit you thought, especially when his acting skills weren’t necessarily that great… 

“Hey babe,” Gojo cheekily whispered,

“I’m not your babe,” you hissed back.

“Ooo, so you like the sweet pet names huh? Noted,” he nodded, the curve of his lips turned upward, humming a tune while he typed something on his phone.  

you couldn’t tell what annoyed you more, his devilishly handsome smile, or the fact that your heart was beating in unrhythmic patterns the more you talked with him.

A facade maybe, but you’ve come to undeniably enjoy his rambunctious company despite him getting on your nerves. 

“Then, sweetheart, do you wanna —“ 

“No.” you numbly stated while typing away at your report.

“But I didn’t even get to —“

“Still, no.” 

“Fine…” for a moment Satoru slumped into his chair, before quickly asking again, “how about —”

“No.”

Smiling as he rests his elbows on the table, leaning forward as he pushes down your laptop, his long, pretty fingers lightly tapping the case, “Do you hate Gojo Satoru?” His words slyly spewed out of his lips, anticipating your shy face when he catches you slipping for saying ‘no’ without much thought.

“Yes.” 

“Boo,” Satoru pouted while retreating to his side, slumping his back to rest his cheeks on his textbook as he closed his eyes.

With your screen down it was easier to take notice of his features. Not that you were blatantly indifferent about his looks — everyone knew Gojo Satoru was handsome — but you rarely got to see him for who he was underneath all the layers of superficial worth people praised him for. 

There was a lot on his shoulders from the brief mentions about his family and childhood that you could sense. It was easy to tell that behind all the crazy and loud was a little boy hiding his loneliness and pain under a mask and careless demeanor. 

You noticed his lips were mildly protruding out, his brows slightly furrowed and his white hair gently frayed down on his forehead with his lashes long and occasionally fluttering. His skin was unblemished and his jaw was sharp yet his face still held the youth of his age.

He’ll soon prepare to work for his family business, learning about the intricacies of the business and possibly becoming one of those cutthroat bosses you’ve seen in the dramas. 

He’ll probably grow a bit more — he’s been working out a lot Gojo would say, proven by the multiple thirst traps he’ll post. His arms were getting a lot more defined, and his abs… oh, you didn’t mean to take a peak. But guess you did have a front-row seat to his almost topless torso when he mindlessly pulled up his shirt while he took off his sweatshirt.

can't say you disliked the view.

You remember feeling warm that day — stomach fluttering with something, while your back felt gently embraced with his scent and clothing. 

“You checking me out?” Gojo muttered without taking a glance at you, pulling you back into reality.

“N-no!” you quickly looked away, opening up your laptop as you grimaced at the harsh stares you got from those around you for the noise, “j-just wondering if you were going to study or not?” you murmured, hiding your face behind your laptop and your cheeks starting to feel hot.

“For someone so smart you ask dumb questions,” Gojo chuckled as he stretched out his legs, his feet purposefully tapping against yours, “what does it look like I’m doing, sweetheart?” he quietly mumbled before his voice started to fade out, “you know,” silently yawning as his body curled inward — all 6’3’’ of him on the small desk that barely housed his long legs — the tapping of his foot now softly, soothingly, rubbing against yours, “you gotta work smarter, not hard…er…”

You weren’t sure if the man before you was a complete idiot or a genius. but for unknown reasons, this guy surprisingly scores the top grade in his classes when his only method of “studying” is sleeping with his head on top of his textbook — surely, the world isn’t fair.

Despite the little snore you heard in front of you, with the light grunts he made from the uncomfortable position, you couldn’t help but fondly look at the guy in front of you. 

Smiling — yea, you’ve been doing that a lot these days.

You decided — maybe, opening up wouldn’t be so bad… 

For you, you remembered it was the first time you felt odd in the stomach. A bit like butterflies as you watched him doze off to sleep, trying your absolute best to restrain your hands from moving a piece of hair that covered his face as he slightly drooled while you studied. You’ve been catching yourself stalling time to meet him where he supposedly just ran into you — he was nice and the epitome of warmth, and you liked that in your dull world. 

But for Satoru, it was another failed attempt to get closer to you. 

He remembered waking up in an empty library — alone. he swore he rested his head for no more than thirty minutes, but how the hell was the time three hours past that? 

Stretching as he released a low groan, his gaze foggy as he squinted his eyes to look for you, only to frown when he realized you were nowhere to be seen.

“dammit” Satoru grumbled while quickly packing his bags, “I wanted to buy dinner —” 

A neon post it leafed its way down to the table, planting face down as Gojo slowly blinked in confusion while touching his forehead.

Picking up the piece of paper, it read:

Hey loser, you were mumbling about some food while you slept, so I got you dinner and placed it next to your backpack. go home and eat ( :

p.s. also, stop bothering me, weirdo.

p.p.s. you know you drool while sleeping?

Dumbfoundedly wiping his lips with the back of his hand, Gojo wasn’t sure if he was blushing from embarrassment or the fact that you were the first girl to buy him dinner — well, it wasn’t in the typical romantic sense… but who the fuck cares, it’s the fact that you bought him dinner; therefore, a step a closer to his goal. So he wins.

Carefully folding the note and placing it into the safeguard of his wallet, Gojo quickly strapped on his bag as he gently held onto his dinner, cradling it like a prized possession, mentally noting what to use for his excuse tomorrow while he made his way down the stairs to the exit.

The air felt oddly cold for the summer. the slight breeze brushed against his face, the ends of his hair tickling his cheeks as he breathed in the damp air.

Everything felt good — right almost despite his lost chances of getting dinner with you. Perhaps he can save that for another day. 

“Just you wait,” beaming up at the moon lighting up the campus, his blue eyes sparkling as Gojo declared, “you will be mine.”

…

“ — Satoru-kun,” his professor called out. His impatience ran thin as he tapped his foot against the floor, “if you don’t answer, I will fail you —” 

“Sensei, the limit just simply doesn’t exist — it’s limitless.” Satoru nonchalantly responded, cooly peaking at his watch now — maybe the time would read faster with that — but the second hand still stayed the same, seconds excruciatingly feeling long. 

“No matter how difficult you propose this function, if the derivative doesn’t exist, nor will its limit.” Gojo continued to calmly iterated his reasoning.

“But doesn’t this point here,” pointing at the board, the chalk panging against the surface, “exist?” his professor challenged, “it’s a point on the graph.”

“Well, no matter how far you stretch this graph within the axes, going as far as trying to touch the asymptotes, it will never. because the limit will always be limitless since the function at those points won’t exist. So, no, that point isn’t on the graph.”

“And what about here?,” pointing to the chalkboard,“what is your answer, Satoru-kun?”

“Assuming you only have one x to one y, then the answer is simple. By definition, the limit will exist if the points on both sides of that graph approach the same point. To find that point, well that depends on the graph given. And looking at this graph, no. there are two points that are open.”

It should be about damn time. 

Gojo felt his blood rushing through his body, heart anxiously pumping with each heavy thud drumming to his ears, the only sound audible that his brain could decipher instead of the pointless questions his professor was asking — why was he making it so goddamn difficult. 

His urgency spiked up as adrenaline pumped through his body, anxiously shaking his leg, Gojo clicked his phone open again, his large hand covering the device as he peeped down. 

11:48 — shit.

“Well, what about when —”

“Shit, I'm late,” Gojo cursed, frantically packing up his bag and zipping it up.

“Excuse me?” His professor frowned, obviously taken aback by his student’s daring use of profanity in his lecture.

But paying no mind, Gojo quickly stood up and paved his way out, harshly whispering past with a light smile as he hugged onto his bag,  “Psst, sorry, going through!” doing his best to swiftly move through the cramped isles while his giant, uncaring if his lanky build caused a nuisance in the middle of the lecture, unbothered if his professor was done talking to him or not, 

“Satoru-kun?” His professor was flabbergasted at his student’s rude ignorance.

“excuse me, sorry!” Satoru cheekily exclaimed while finally making his way out.

“I haven’t dismissed —”

“Sensei sorry!” Gojo exclaimed while opening the lecture door, ready to sprint out, “I promise, I’ll pass your exam tomorrow!” he blurted, voice fading off into the distance and Gojo now nowhere to be seen.

“... at least don’t sit in the middle if you’re always going to barge out like that,” his professor murmured to himself, massaging the bridge of his nose as he sighed. 

Yet the only response he got was silence, the awkward creaking of the door closing, and the clock striking the end of his lecture. 

“Fuck,” he panted while brushing his fingers through his hair, a little damp from his sweat, his chest huffing from the sprint across campus as he looked at his watch, brows furrowed as his eyes searched everywhere for a glimpse of you. 

“Not there,” he mumbled, gazing to his side, “no, not here,” frustratingly turning around as he scanned the area just in case you slipped out the back door, his eyes loosely looking past a couple of figures, “damn it, not here too.”

“What’s not here?” he heard a soft voice from behind him. 

“Just looking for someone,” without processing, Satoru blurted out, “uhm… sorry just talking to myself —” Gojo mumbled as he slowly turned around, impatient that someone was taking away his precious time to find you.

Call him a dreamer but he was still hopeful that you possibly didn’t just leave — I mean how could you, when he made it a point to always see you after class, you couldn’t be that clueless.  

“You’re late,” you stated, trying to stifle your laugh, his busy eyes quickly changed to ones of nervousness as he registered who was exactly in front of him. His clear, azul eyes were imbued in sheer panic as his expression dwindled to eventual ease as a droplet of sweat ran down from his temple.

“Oh god, uhm,” scratching his head as he awkwardly looked off to the side, whispering under his breath, “I- I ended class a little late, but great to see you again,” he tried composing himself while smiling — the one that made his lips twitch from nervousness.

“I see,” you hummed, “you seem out of breath, Gojo,” you teased, remembering just how frantic he looked minutes prior while running over. 

You ended class a bit earlier, wondering if he’d be waiting outside like he normally did, pacing back and forth to make it seem like he simply ran into you — how utterly stupid was he?

But it was you that would giggle, feeling the type of happiness that made your heart full and cheeks hurting — guess you were the stupid one for falling for such an act. 

So you decided to wait today, standing off in the corner to witness how he would stage his act — you just didn’t expect him to be in such a panic rush trying to get here.

“Yea, y-you know those stairs, it gets me all the time,” Gojo stiffly laughed as he fisted his hand behind his back, trying to steady his breath and nose from embarrassingly flaring.

“Satoru,” giggling as you peeped up, noticing just how much taller he was compared to you while his hands nervously twitched and cheeks rosy despite his firm stance that his class was only but a few steps away from yours, you couldn’t help but smile at his innocence, “there are no stairs in this building.”

“Satoru, huh… that’s a change… sounds so nice rolling off your tongue,” he pondered while staring at your lips. It was cute and just perfect as you said every letter, every syllable of his name —

“Earth to Gojo Sa-to-ru,” waving your hands, tip-toeing to get his attention.

“Ah, right…. Sorry,” he mumbled, shyly looking away only to take a quick glance at you looking up at him. 

“So…” cocking your head to the side, eyes doe-like while looking up through your lashes, “ what’s the plan for today? You softly chirped.

“uhm,” eyes widen, shocked at your response, “what?” his voice was unexpectedly sharp.

“I asked what are we doing today….” Rolling on your heels, “I-isn’t that why you’re here?” you nervously asked.

“Just like that?” Gojo glanced at you, eyes full of suspicion. 

“What do you mean?” you questioned, lips starting to form a pout as you awaited his answer.

“Sorry,” he sighed, stretching his legs out to match his height with yours, “didn’t mean to sound harsh,” he apologetically whispered while gazing into your eyes.

“It’s just that you always reject me…  I - I mean,” holding his hands up, shaking in defense to not offend you, “don’t get me wrong, I appreciate it,” furrowing his brows as he shook his head, “no, no, let’s retract back. I’m thrilled that you’re asking me. It's just that…” his voice slowly fading as if embarrassment finally caught up to his head.

“It's just what?” you softly mumbled. 

“Well,” sighing, “I had all these excuses planned out just in case you said no,” he confessed as he pulled his phone from his pocket, “It’s all in my notes app.”

“Notes app huh?” your lips twitched from trying to contain your laugh.

“So what was the excuse for today? or… ” you teased, gently hitting your elbow against his arm, “should I say no, so your efforts don’t go to waste?”

“Thought we could go for coffee after I uncoincidentally bumped into you after your class,” Satoru shrugged.

“Coffee sounds nice,” you hummed, “you’re buying?”

“Here gimme,” he softly encouraged, quickly taking your bag and swinging it over his shoulder, “I mean, I do owe you one for bumping into you that one day.”

“Ah, so you do admit, that was your fault,” you jokingly glared, “the headache you put me through because of your stupid five hundred dollar shirt,” you grumbled.

“Well technically it was a bit more,” he grinned, “but not really, I believe in fate,” he winked, “it was a divine moment.”

“You’re ridiculous,” rolling your eyes, “but I need to study.” 

“I have an excuse for that too.”

“And what could that be?”

“I got an exam tomorrow, so you can watch me be handsomely studious,” Satoru smiled.

“For what class?” stunned to hear Gojo Satoru and studying be spoken in a sentence together. 

“Business calc,” he frowned.

“Oh my god! Who’s your professor?” you beamed. 

“The one and only Takashi sensei,” Satoru chuckled, softly patting your head as he couldn’t resist your cute enthusiasm.

“What?” your voice suspicious, yet you had no resolve to remove it — it felt nice, his hands were big… you realized. 

“Nothing,” biting his lip to contain his laugh,” it’s just… that’s the most you’ve shown interest in me.” 

“Whatever…” you huffed to flush out the embarassment, “I have him next semester —” 

“I know,” he softly responded, his words going unnoticed.

“— and I’m worried because math isn’t really my forte,” you honestly confessed.

“That’s why you have me!” he stood with his chest tall, his thumb pointing at himself, “I’ll be your dependable, hot tutor that you fall in love with.”

“You’re ridiculous…”

Winking, “I don’t charge pretty girls like you —”

“So you’re telling me, you tutored other girls by being their hot and dependable tutor?” you raised a brow, standing to one side as you crossed your arms.

“What? N-no, that’s not it!” 

“mhm, yea… playboy,” shaking your head,” so why are you taking business calculus? Thought you tested out of it, no?”

“Well… a man has his reasons,” he cheekily stated.

“And how does that help me to study?” raising one brow as you questioned his logic, “ I thought your method of studying was sleeping on your textbook.”

“Okay wow, I was not prepared for that. You’re making it difficult for me again, but you know what?” pulling his sleeves up as he stood tall in front of you, “I’m prepared for your rejections. And in answer to that, then we can study together.”

“But you talk too much, and snore when you fall asleep.”

“Not true,” Satoru murmured, “Suguru said I was generally a peaceful and quiet sleeper.”

“Explain generally,” you eyed him suspiciously, “and I didn’t know you both were like that,” giggling, your heart slowly expanding in adoration the more you talked with him, “... sleeping together and such.”

“We just had one too many nights where we would pass out a little drunk after a party,” scratching the back of his head, “and m-my body runs a little hot… so…”

“So…?”

“So, Shoko may or may not have some photos of us,” Gojo’s face started to contort in disgust, “cuddling…”

“But aside from that,” he tried defending himself, “I’m very great to sleep with!” 

“Sure…” you gave him a teasing glance, “I’ll ask Geto the next time I see him about that.”

“Hey…” suddenly stepping closer to you, his voice serious yet soft. He was careful to not overstep any boundaries you might have placed, slowly reaching down to grasp hold of your fingers, 

“just give me a chance yea? I’ll be good, I- I won’t snore, I won't drool, and I’ll only talk when I need to, hmm?” he reassured

You can almost feel the sore desperation in his voice as you feel the feathery grazes of his fingers against yours; his breath held as he anxiously awaited your answer.

“Okay,” you softly mumbled.

“Great,” releasing his breath, “you won’t regret it, I promise,” Gojo whispered while smiling.

“Hey Satoru,” you lightly called out, his name perfectly rolling off your tongue — so delicate, so pretty.

“Mhm,” he invited you to continue.

“Did you run here?” You questioned, playing with your foot as you rolled a rock on your shoe, “you’re normally not so out of breath.”

“Pssh, no,” he awkwardly laughed, “I told you my class is in this building as well —“

“Stupid, come here,” you murmured, pulling him slightly down, taking a piece of your sleeve as you tiptoed to reach his face. Gently dabbing the small droplets of sweat under his soft white bangs, “next time don’t run. And finish your class, Sensei’s going to hate you,” you softly told him.

“I- I told you,” blushing because your face was way too close — dangerous even — examining your features, ‘pretty’ he thought as he watched you concentrate on him,

“I just happened to have class —“

“I’ll be waiting next time, so take your time coming,” you smiled, looking into his eyes before quickly flattening your feet, “it’s quite far to come here from across campus, no?”

Satoru just gives in, like the hundred different times where he willingly lost to you, “Not as hard as scoring a date with you,” he smiled while spreading his feet out to make it easier for you to continue.

“It’s not a date,” you mumbled, your cheeks feeling hot as his soft eyes gazed at you, his two hands lightly placed on your hips to draw you closer.

“It is so definitely a date,” Satoru professed, “and I can just tell,” his voice feathery and light, “that we’ll have many more.”

10 years later —

The light scratching on his pen against the document loomed in his office. Ijichi, his most trusted secretary anxiously waited for his boss to finish signing his papers, watching guard just in case he didn’t go running off before finishing all his duties — again.

“You don’t need to stand there hovering,” Gojo nonchalantly stated, his wrist gently peeking through his cuffs, his watch shining with every stroke of his name.

“Well, these reports are important that you have them signed by today,” Ijichi nervously answered.

“Do you have it ready?” Gojo responded without removing his gaze from the file he was reading just before signing.

“I-I do, the flower shop did say it was difficult to find the specific color, but they made it work. I’ll bring it over when you’re done… and reservations have been made, sir.”

“Perfect, because…” his voice calm and emotionless, his hair once perfectly set in the morning, now just a little frazzled from his busy day, his tie now loose from his stress, “this should be the last one I do,” Satoru smiled while giving his secretary the folder. 

“Sir, uhm you still have —”

“I’ll do them tomorrow,” Gojo stood up, reaching over to grab his coat, quickly throwing it over his broad shoulder.

“B-but!” Ijichi was frantic, his eyes shaking at the visible stack of papers Satoru had yet to sign — and oh, god, he didn’t even get to read over the file for tomorrow’s presentation.

“Satoru-sachou, the Chairman will be there for tomorrow—“

“And the flowers are beautiful, she’ll love them, thank you,” Gojo warmly smiled while taking a whiff of its scent, walking past the frazzled man to a mirror to quickly freshen up his white hair and clothes, reapply your favorite cologne and spray some mint into his mouth.

“Satoru-sach —”

“Relax, when have I ever worried you?”

'always,' Ijichi thought.

Nonchalant and unbothered as he fixed his tie, “It’ll be fine, I’ll be fine, and you’ll be fine,” Satoru stated as he took one look at the mirror, his sharp cerulean eyes looking at his secretary, “go take the night off, you look exhausted.” 

You! You are the source of my stress and mental breakdowns! Ijichi wanted to scream.

While making his way to the door, Satoru quickly noted, “I’ll be here in the morning with all of it finished,” he stated before leaving his office.

At a loss for words, helpless in front of his careless boss, Ijichi just stood frozen, mind racing at all the changes and accommodations, the phone calls and e-mails he’d have to make to fit into Gojo’s schedule because he knew for sure… Gojo Satoru will not be here bright and early in the morning to finish his work — especially when it is date night.

“I should just quit,” falling to his knees, defeated by his boss’s carelessness to simply skadoodle off on a date when he was one impacted by the brunt repercussions of his actions, “surely he wants to kill me with all this— ” 

Disrupting his internal monologue, “Ah, I almost forgot,” Ijichi’s mortal enemy spoke while opening the door and holding onto the knob, “I booked a small vacation for you and your wife for this weekend, it should be in my drawer,” the man simply blinked in response, “and don’t call me until I text you, I got important business for tonight,” Gojo warned before his voice quickly changed to that of pity, “yea… you definitely need that break,” he stated as he shook his head and closed the door again.  

Registering what just occurred, Ijichi grunted as he lifted himself up, brushing his knees as he walked towards Satoru’s desk, lightly skipping as the scales of his exhaustion flaked off from the caring act of his boss, “Well, guess I gotta start sending those emails now…” Ijichi hummed.

…

“Traffic doesn’t seem too bad,” Gojo muttered while looking at his phone’s navigation, his steps pacing as the clicks of his heels echoed through the halls of the empty parking garage.

Sliding his hand behind the handle, the car automatically turned on as he opened the door. Lowly grunting as he entered his Bentley, his eyes quickly scanned his back seat from the rearview mirror, his mind recalling a moment a couple of days prior that left you rather speechless in his arms — hot and sticky as he reconfirmed once again his love for you in a rather lustfully carnal matter.

He could do that with you — boyfriend privileges.

It’s not like he picked out this specific car, testing out the back specifically for its… spacious seating and tinted window. Totally didn’t bring this car to work today because he wanted to test those specifications out again… but only if you were up for it. 

And stepping on the gas pedal, Gojo drove out, the light screeches of his car heard from inside. 

“Daddy’s coming, sweetheart,” Gojo chuckled while firmly placing a grip on his wheel, his vacant arm resting on the side. 

Though a decade has gone by, Satoru still feels the same giddiness that he did when he was eighteen. He’s gotten taller, bulkier in his frame, and styled his clothes better from the god-awful sweats he always wore — though you still seem to always complain if he wasn’t wearing his specific gray ones, he doesn’t blame you. It makes his dick look nice.  

He kisses you a lot better than the sloppy ones he gave you in his teen years. He gets to wake up with you — face cutely bloated, tummy peaking through his loose shirt, legs entangled with his as he takes in your beauty. He likes that, all of it. 

He reads and understands your quirks before you even tell him. And strangely so, when you have a headache, well god be damned, he had one too. 

He’s become more influential and held power to his name, leading a multi-billion company, but in the privacy of his home, he was still silly, honest, and vulnerable. Contrary to the changes throughout the years, Satoru was still the same — a lovesick man.

Despite your harsh decision to break up with him from a simple misunderstanding, Gojo never held it against you. He’s grown to understand and works to amend the loss — together. It was his time to grow, his time to expand his horizons and his time to explore his options. But guess fate was really on his side because he walked back to where it all started with a fresh start — finding you two years ago at a college reunion. 

Life was good for Satoru — better when you came back into his world. Mornings weren’t so tough and nights didn’t feel so lonely. His mundane days of meeting and mediocre dates were of the past. Now, even the simplest days felt refreshing.

Looking out as he drove through the highway, a couple minutes from your workplace, he watched the city’s skyline sparkle in the dark. He recalled the days when he looked out the night sky, thinking if you were happy, wishing he could just understand why you decided to leave him — only for him to make some regrettable choices of relying on alcohol and texting quick fucks, slipping into weakness during the quietest of times.

It’s often when everything was quiet that felt the loudest — the most difficult to bear for him.

But now, when he sees the night sky he can’t help but feel warm with a slight tingling resonating from his core because even if it's quiet, he isn’t alone — you’ve nestled into a portion of his heart that he could never forsake, nor did he want to. 

She’ll like that, Gojo thought while looking up, making a mental note to mention it to you later.

He felt his heart beating fast as he imagined what face you would make when you would see him today — happy, relieved, excited? Or did you happen to have a bad day, the exhaustion dripping from your slumped shoulders simply needing a hug with light kisses as he expressed his love?

And parking his car, carefully grabbing the bouquet as he took another whiff — he doesn’t remember flowers smelling so beautifully fragrant when you weren’t in his life, but strangely now… it does. 

“Yellow tulips are my favorite,” you mentioned once while Satoru dropped you off at your dorm. 

“Why,” he asked. Repeating ‘yellow tulips’ in his head multiple times just so he can type it into his notes app later when he was alone.

“Just cause… they’re beautiful and they symbolize hope and happiness,” you softly said, “I like to think there’s something out there I can be hopeful for… and maybe find the answer to finding true happiness, if that even exists, ” you shyly confessed with a gentle laugh.

And grabbing hold of your hand, gently bringing it up to his lips for a soft kiss, specific to a finger on your left hand, Satoru marked a promise, “I’ll buy you all the yellow tulips in the world, till you find that answer.” 

Obviously, no flower could come abysmally close to your natural scent when he held you tightly in his arms, naked bodies touching as he breathed into your skin. 

And he hoped the time he spent with you was a step closer to finding your true happiness because, to him, you meant the world.

“She’ll be out in a few, so...” he murmured while taking a look at his watch, briefly scanning the entrance to find a good spot to wait. 

“There should be perfect,” he whispered to himself as he made his way to the corner — a place difficult to see through from the dangling tree leaves and vines.

Satoru couldn’t help but pleasingly reminiscence the times when he would run from his lecture to pick you up. Who can blame him, he was a man on a mission to find his princess — just so happens that she broke his heart eight years ago — but who the fuck cares about setbacks, things were good now.

He feels his heart beating, the familiar thumping in his chest as he waits for you. The usual sweating of his palms as he checked his phone for the time again, mentally groaning as time seemed to be infinitely fixed. Good thing there was no sensei asking him useless questions as he nervously waited.

“I’ll see you next week, have a great weekend Tanaka-san.” 

Gojo could realize that voice anywhere.

There you were, waving goodbye to a fellow male coworker that he had never liked — the lovely Tanaka-san, you always had so many great things to say about. He should just have you transferred to his company, you’ll thrive, and even have a chance to expand your talents … but you’ll give him an earful if he does.

But that’ll be a conversation for another day when he’s more willing to put up a friendly fight with you.

Because right now, he had a mission  — one he’s been striving for since eighteen.

“Ah, fancy I see you here,” Satoru voiced out, coming out from the dark with a hand behind his back, “must’ve been fate that we meet,” he stated with a wink.

Rolling your eyes with a chuckle, turning around to see your boyfriend walking over, “did you run here? Or…” you hummed while looking over to find his Bentley parked on the right, “are you gonna tell me you work here too?”

“Neither,” he shrugged while walking, “just came here to ask a pretty girl out on a date, that’s all,” his voice soft yet enticing as he now stood so closely in front of you. 

“Oh, I’m sorry but I’m actually waiting for my boyfriend,” you looked around, your knees feeling weak when you caught his confident smirk, the sweet scent of his cologne hypnotizing your senses, “have you seen him? He’s really handsome, you know?” you played on.

“You do?” Satoru warmly stated as he gave you the bouquet he was hiding behind his back, his fingers gently resting on your hips as he pulled you in, your dainty heels standing in between his larger dress shoes while he pressed a warm kiss to your cheek, “Bet your handsome boyfriend doesn’t have flowers for you like this, no?”

“He gets them for me all the time,” you took a whiff of the rose and caught sight of the yellow incarnation of hope, “and always picks me up from work even though it drives his secretary insane.”

“Pssh, what a bad boyfriend,” he whispered with his gaze traveling to your lips, “you should totally dump him for me,” he pitched while cupping your face, lips teasing to touch, the slight minty breeze of his breath warming your cheeks, as he slowly closed the impending gap between you two, 

“what do you say, sweetheart? Give me a chance and I’ll treat you to more than just coffee for our date tonight.”

note: hope you all enjoyed! it was rather difficult to pull out this piece because I was heartbroken from the last jjk chapter... but all is well now because gojo is healthy and well in the forbes30! universe. this was a headcanon that spiraled into a 6k fic... and hopefully i'll be able to expand on the other hc's i have for him, without breaking the word count rip

[pupyuj]

Ena!! Imagine this! Yujin is reader's rival (sort of) and one day Yuj suddenly calls reader in the middle of the night and she tells the reader to talk and she's all hasty about it too! And so you do just that but suddenly you hear whimpering and moaning on the other line?!? She's whipped enough to get off to your voice...

-🐝

rivals mentioned and ofc i have to make it academic rivals bcs that’s… yeah that rlly scratches the right parts of my brain 😍😍

you and yujin have created some sort of not-so-playful competition when it comes to your studies! listen, the two of you were college students in an irritatingly-difficult field, and if your entire time in that university was going to be hell, you might as well make it fun! and what better way to do that than a lovely little challenge with the only other smartass in the class every now and again? 🥰 so the two of you do just that? every quiz, tests, recitations, presentations, and assessments were your battlefield and your respective grades were your prize… it was simple; whoever has the higher grade wins and it was usually always a close battle between the two of you… but lately you’ve been winning a lot and that really pushed the wrong buttons in yujin 🫢

see, she knew that at the end of day, she can’t beat you in everything! you were quite possibly the smartest girl she has ever met—your grades were fucking insurmountable, yujin was never going to beat you ever 😭 but this upcoming test… she has to get a higher score than you 😤 yujin has been lacking way too much in her academics and no amount of studying was enough for her to snap out of this streak of less-than-ideal test results… so she had to find a way to shake your confidence 🤓☝️

and she’s sooo fucking lucky you have a massive crush on her annoying ass. otherwise you wouldn’t have answered her stupid ass call at 12:38 am in the middle of cramming for that test both of you were dreading to take the next morning 🤭

“if you’re here to try and brag about how you can already see that you’ll beat me tomorrow, please pack it up. i have no time to deal with your delusions.” oh, you were so cute when you tried to be mean 🥺 yujin figured that you must’ve been studying all day what with the stress on your voice and how you were mumbling profanities as you read through the material… god that really turned her on.

“good evening to you too, my dear rival!” yujin was delighted to practically ‘hear’ you roll your eyes on the other end.

“yujin… i really don’t have time to play around tonight, okay? i wanna get this over with and then get the best sleep of my life knowing i’ll have another victory over you in the bag.”

“oh come on, you need the company, (y/n). i know you and you’ve probably been swamped with textbooks and modules all day. you need a life!”

“aha, no thanks. you know what ‘getting a life’ would do to me? losing to ‘my dear rival’ after every exam because i was too busy partying and making out with and fucking three girls at a time to sit down and study.”

yujin bites her lip, holding back a seriously slutty whimper. “okay, i’ll give you that one, (y/n). i love it when you’re feisty.” and the fun ends there for you… but not for yujin! 🤭 while you’re busy going off on her for being so goddamn annoying so late in the day, she had her hand shoved inside her panties rubbing her sensitive cunt to the sound of your voice 😳 you were just too adorable trying to lecture her and her falling grades… and she could imagine your pretty little face all flared up in anger whilst scolding her and it’s such a turn on for her 😵‍💫😵‍💫

and it was on your third time repeating that yujin should party less and get serious more than she lets a moan slip out… and that literally made you freeze 🫨 see, yujin should be terrified that she got herself found out… but she was actually hoping that you’d catch her… it adds to the pleasure 🫠

“a-are you… what are you doing..?”

“mmhn… no, no, continue, (y/n).. unless y-you want to come over and finish what you started yourself, hm…?”

“me…? b-but…” a pause. “it’s late…”

“ha… you’re so cute… just keep going.”

she found it sooo endearing how you clumsily guided her 🥺 telling her how many fingers she can put inside her cunt, how fast she can fuck herself, how loud she can be, and when she gets to cum… demanding to let her see you so she opens up her camera and shows you just how well she’s fucking herself under your guidance 😵‍💫 yujin wasn’t all too fond of edging when she just wants to get off quickly but with your sweet voice telling her that it’s not time yet, she just had to obey! and ofc she loved it when you did praise her for following your words… 🥰

yujin making you admit just how much you want to touch her yourself… having to tell her about all the times you’ve wanted to kiss her and hide away to some empty classroom and fuck with her, then ofc your fantasies of getting fucked by her which rlly takes the cake and only pushes yujin closer to her climax 🤭

“ahh… f-fuck, don’t worry, (y/n)… once classes are over tomorrow, i’m taking y-you here and i’m giving you the best fuck of your life.. you fucking need it… god..!”

“really…? you’d do that, mommy?”

it was a real fucking shame that you weren’t there to really see how hard yujin came after hearing you call her that 😵‍💫 needless to say that after that test, you and yujin were more than happy to skip all of your other classes that day and just release all of your pent-up sexual frustrations to each other for the remainder of the day 🤭

[sixeyescurseuser]

Thinking about Geto who wakes up in the middle of the night to Gojo murmuring, “Suguruuuu.”

Geto is about to be pissed because what could Gojo possibly want at two in the goddamn morning?

Geto: “Satoru, what the fuck?“

Gojo: [snores] “-hmm hungy”

Geto realizing this fool isn’t even awake, yet woke Geto up from his peaceful slumber by sleep-talking. 

The menace currently hogs half of Geto’s pillow, so Geto rolls him over with a not-so-delicate push. 

Gojo, sleep-talking: “Gah! I’m fallingg!?”

Gojo looks so dumb asleep, Geto actually lets out a quiet laugh.  

Unfortunately, Geto seems to have picked up on Gojo’s sleep-talking habit. It’s more like eepy rambling for him.

Based on the evidence provided from a locked folder on Gojo’s phone, a sleeping Geto can hold a full conversation with an awake Gojo- conversations that make zero sense. 

Geto, asleep: “Satoruuu, the oven…”

Gojo: “Don’t worry, love, I am keeping an eye on those burning children.”

Geto: “The kids…what about the salt?”

Gojo: “No salt here, but I can give you some sugar!”

Gojo leans down to pepper Geto’s cheeks with kisses. He can’t help it!

Rip to Shoko deals with her friend's sleeptalk every time they sleepover together. She supposes gaining deeper eye bags comes with the territory of being their friends. 

Geto is apparently studying for their exam tomorrow in his dreams. He occasionally recites passages Yaga-sensei had written on the board. 

Meanwhile, Gojo fights curses in his dreams, narrating all his strategies and kills. He ends up trying to horizontal run in the bed, consequently kicking Shoko and Geto in their stomachs. 

After Geto kicks Gojo back, effectively waking him up, Shoko tells Gojo what happened - but he refuses believe her!

[xoxo-sarah]

I Wanna Be Yours || Part 9

Part 8 | part 10

↝pairing: Robin Buckley x fem!Wheeler!reader

↝ Warning: flashback with the girl who was readers first kiss, slightly proofread, possible spoilers, cannon events, angst? I mean it's just the cannon events with the lake idek

↝⎙ 5.5.24

“You're overthinking it.”

Smooth, clean-shaven legs swung back and forth as they hung off your bed. Green eyes watched your every move; pink lips in a seemingly permanent smirk. Jessica, the girl you had your first kiss with, sat on your bed, twirling her black hair between her fingers. She was taking you to another party, wanting you to get out of the house during exam week. After your kiss, it seemed like she ran into you at every corner.

You weren't normally one for parties, but she had come over, charmed your mother with her perfect smile, and snuck her way back into your life. You weren't going to complain at that moment.

Admittingly, it took a lot of her lips on yours to convince you to go, but that's not relevant.

Pulling a shirt over your head, you couldn't help but roll your eyes. “I have school tomorrow…and homework-”

“— And tension to release.” She stood, sauntering over to you.

The party went by fast. It could've been the alcohol in your system, or the week wafting through the thick air. Either way. 2 AM came quickly.

Jessica giggled as she held your hand, dragging you through the woods. Skull Rock came into view- a blurry view at that. Home can wait, you told yourself, feeling warm lips on your neck.

Running through the woods at night was proven to be very difficult without someone leading you by the hand, even without the alcohol in your veins.

Dustin led the group, watching the compass intently. “Something is happening.”

“Dustin? Can you slow down? Dustin?!” Eddie jogged to keep up with him.

Dustin turned back, “I think we're getting close.”

Just as Eddie caught up to the poor boy, he grabbed Dustin before he could fall into Lover's Lake, “Watch your step, big guy.”

You came up behind Steve, hearing him mutter, “Oh, man. You gotta be shitting me.”

“Yeah, I thought these woods were familiar.” Eddie nodded slowly.

Robin gawked at the water, “Lover's Lake.”

“This is confounding.” Dustin shook his head, analyzing the compass in his hands.

“There's a gate in Lover's Lake?” Max's eyebrows furrowed.

“When the Demogorgon attacked, it left an opening.”

Nancy nodded at your statement, knowing where you were going. “Maybe Vecna's the same way.”

“Yeah, only one way to find out.”

“Easy- I said easy, man.” Steve and Eddie struggled to lay the boat on the very edge of land.

“Sorry, dude.”

“Here you go.” Steve held his hand out to Robin, who used his head for balance to get into the small boat, stepping over the two.

“Just gonna do that - thank you.”

“Yeah, that works too.”

Eddie got in after, offering his hand to you. Before you could take it, Nancy spoke up, "I think y/n should stay here. With the kids."

“No. No, I'm going.”

“Let's not do this right now.” Steve huffed. You turned back around, frowning at Eddie's hand before taking it.

Robing scooted over, making room for you as Nancy stepped on. “Wheeler.” Eddie winked, trying to lighten the mood between you and your sister, while also making sure she got situated.

“Hey, hey, hey, you tryin' to sink us?” Eddie poked at Dustin’s forehead, making him stagger back. “This thing only holds four people tops, ‘kay?”

“It’s better this way. You guys stay here with Max. Keep an eye out for trouble.” Nancy tried.

“You keep an eye out.” Dustin whisper-yelled. “It’s my goddamn theory!”

“You heard Nance.” Robin stated, her leg brushing up against yours.

Dustin threw his hands up, “Who put her in charge?”

“I did.”

Nancy put out her hand, “Compass.” Dustin pouted, handing it over. He backed away, watching Steve begin to push off on the boat.

“Hey! There you go.” He threw Dustin’s bag, before pushing at the boat again. As the boat finally drifted into the water, Steve jumped in, squishing you all closer together.

“You said four!”

“Sorry.” Steve whispered. You maneuvered to sit on the floor of the boat, as Robin and Eddie began paddling against the water.

“Bedtime at nine, kiddos.” Dustin flipped Robin off from the distance. She stood, waving. “Miss you already!” You couldn’t help the amused smile peeking through on your lips, watching her as she sat down.

After a while, you felt your eyes droop, a yawn escaping your mouth. You brought your knees up to your chest, resting your head on them.

“Tired?” Steve asked, amused. Nancy wasn’t.

“I told you to stay-”

“We’re not doing this! Look, I don't know what happened between you two, but you need to put it on the back burner for one goddamn min-'' Steve got interrupted by the sound of the compass going crazy. The needle twirled, not knowing which way to actually go. “Woah, woah, woah. Slow down. Slow down, guys.” Nancy’s attention was yanked from your argument, now set on the object in her hand. Everyone stopped their movements, watching, waiting.

Nancy sighed as the compass needle kept flickering.

“Woah.”

“Guys, what’s going on?” Dustin’s voice broke through the walkie-talkie. “Come on, guys, talk to me. What’s going on?”

You grabbed the walkie, eyes not leaving the compass. “Your compass is going crazy, it's fine though.”

Robin grabbed it from you, quickly adding, “Yeah, it's gone from wonky to wonky with a capital ‘ahhhh!’”

Steve lifted his foot, beginning to take his shoes and socks off. Out of instinct, you backed your head away, bumping into Robin’s knees. This boat was really only big enough for four people, tops.

“Steve, what are you doing?” Nancy asked, watching him with her eyebrows furrowed.

“Somebody’s gotta go down there and check this thing out. Unless one of you four can stop being a Hawkins High swim co-captain and a certified lifeguard for three years, then…” He looked from you, to everyone around the boat.

A little after Nance and him had broken up, you wanted to learn how to swim, and he was willing to teach you. Or try to. The thought of being underwater was terrifying. Not knowing what was under you in the water, was what kept you from doing any more than 2 lessons. He knew you wouldn’t go in the water, not knowing what was in there- could be absolutely anything. It wasn’t that you were a bad swimmer, the anxiety of it just got in the way. You could swim if it were life or death. Steve hoped now wasn’t one of those moments.

“It’s gotta be me. No complaints, alright?” He stood up, rocking the boat slightly, as he turned toward the lake.

Eddie spoke up, “Hey, I'm not complaining. I do not want to go down there.” he dug around his jacket pocket, pulling out a plastic bag.

Steve moved to the edge of the boat, taking his shirt off. Both of you and Robin’s eyes went to Nancy as she gawked.

“The ladies dig that?” You playfully pointed at Steve’s chest. The air was a little less stuffy at your playful banter.

“Yeah, they actually do.” He held his head up in faux confidence. “Maybe you should get some.”

“Who’s to say I don’t already have any?”

“Hey,” Steve looked away from you, to Eddie, who held up a flashlight with the plastic bag wrapped around it. “Good luck.”

The air was back to thick, the moment was back to being real.

“Thanks.” Steve threw his sweater at Eddie as he took the flashlight.

Eddie put a cigarette in between his lips, picking up the balled-up sweater. He dropped the sweater, digging around in his pocket for a lighter. He lit it, about to bring it up to the cigarette when Robin plucked the nicotine and threw it into the water. “Gross.”

Steve took a few breaths, trying to prepare himself for whatever he was about to encounter.

“Steve?” Nancy called, watching as Steve turned half his body around to look at her. “ Be careful.”

He nodded, before turning and diving in. Water slashed up into your face. You quickly wiped at your face, moving closer to the side of the boat, watching as the flashlight got dimmer and dimmer the further Steve swam.

“Where we at, Wheeler?”

Nancy checked her watch, “Closing in on a minute.”

You held your breath, waiting.

You nearly jumped out of your skin as Steve resurfaced with loud splashes and panting.

“Shit!” “Oh, Christ!” “Fuck!”

Steve inhaled, trying to push the soaking hair out of his face. “I found it.” He grabbed the side of the boat, as Robin spoke into the walkie.

“Dustin, you’re a goddamn Einstein. Steve found the gate.”

“It’s pretty wild. It’s more of a snack-sized gate than a mama gate, but still, it’s pretty awesome.” You gasped as Steve lost his grip on the boat, your hand fell over his right as he came back up with a surprised expression. Just as quickly as he came back up, he was pulled back down with a yelp. His hands were completely out from under yours. All of you moved toward where he disappeared, yelling out his name. The water bubbled, showing Steve’s struggle.

“No! No, no! What the hell was that, man?” Eddie yelled, needing that cigarette more than ever.

Robin turned toward Nancy, “Nancy, really, what happened?”

“Jesus!” Eddie exclaimed. Nancy stood, Eddie putting his hand out toward her. “Wait. Wait, you’re not going in there, are you?”

Your attention wasn’t on the water now. Your eyes locked on Nancy’s, your heartbeat in your ears. You began shaking your head, words being stuck in your throat.

“Just wait here.” She jumped in without another word. Robin and Eddie’s screams molding together were the last thing your brain registered, before you jumped in right behind Nancy, without hesitation. The fear that was instilled in you at a very young age was nowhere in sight. Your arms and legs moved on their own, your eyes set on the person you grew up with. Through good and bad times. Every argument, rude remark, and mean look you two exchanged didn’t matter at the moment.

•© 2021-2024 by xoxo-sarah on Tumblr•

• My work is not to be translated, copied, modified, and/or reposted on any other site without my permission. [!I don't give permission!]

🫧 Taglistׂׂ ૢ ~ @overtrred28 @ihatepeanutss @jovana1234578 @dobbycarl @kyleeservopoulos

[agentmarvel]

🖤, 🔪, Mistreated Medic

yay! thank you for sending this!🖤

nikto x reader

cw: dark content, stalker!nikto, allusion to kidnapping

mdni - 18+; minors and ageless blogs will be blocked

Nikto peers through the eyeholes of his mask, gaze shifting anxiously as he follows a pacing Private. The man has been growing progressively more and more agitated, demanding medical attention for a pain he can’t quite pinpoint or explain.

“If you’re not bleeding or dying, I’m sorry, but it’s not a priority,” you had told him, offering your best expression of sympathy. He tried to argue, but you silenced him pretty quickly. “Listen, Private, I’ve got a triage helo on the fucking field right goddamn now. Two critical and at least two more to patch. If you’re only here for a minor exam and some pain pills, you will have to come back later. I do not have time for this right now, okay?”

But he didn’t leave. No, he continues to pace while you prepare for your patients to be brought in by the MedEvac team. He bites at the skin around his thumbnail, tearing it away in miniscule slivers that he spits out with an almost imperceptible sputter.

Withdrawal, Nikto muses. He’s likely been faking a variety of issues to score narcotics from the other corpsmen. They aren’t as smart as you; they wouldn’t see through his bullshit the way you do.

Perhaps that’s why Nikto finds himself so drawn to you. You’re brilliant, you don’t take shit from anyone (him included), you demonstrate so much restraint and commitment; you are perfect. He adores you. Every fiber of your being sings to his fragmented soul like a needle mending a sleeve tear. Something about you makes him feel whole. Maybe not entirely, but in part. A large part.

“Can’t you just send a new prescription for me? It’s not that hard; all the other fuckin’ nurses do it!”

“I’m not writing you a prescription without an exam first, and your exam is not a priority right now. You can come back tomorrow. I’m not going to repeat myself.”

Nikto can see the rage boiling under the Private’s skin. He’s clenching and unclenching his fists, veins protruding in his forearms. His stance is defensive at first, but your outright refusal causes him to shift. If you turn your back, that fucking coward will attack you.

No, not while Nikto is here. He won’t be able to make it even three steps closer without getting his fuck-ugly rat face caved in. You’re safe with him around. He’ll keep you safe.

His poor, mistreated medic. You deserve so much better than the bullshit you deal with day in and day out.

Really, he has half a mind to take you away from all of this. Stow you away in his secluded little cabin, take care of you for the rest of his life, give you anything and everything you could ever hope for and then some… He knows what you like; lord knows how much time he’s spent scrubbing through your interest history or following you on your rare off days to see where you spend your time.

He decides he’s definitely going to start considering that a bit more now, but that timeline accelerates in a split second. As you look towards the window for your incoming patients, the Private advances, and Nikto has no choice but to tip his hand.

You’ll never have to deal with this sort of vile behavior ever again. Decision made.

pick your prompt here! 💌

[victorbutnotreally]

Serenade - Lee Know x Male Reader (ft Soyeon, Changbin)

genre: fluff, rivals to lovers warnings: swearing

"You. Again", Minho says through his teeth. He and Mn had all classes together this year. The problem? They're rivals.

"Pleasure to see you, Minho", Mn says sarcastically. It's always been his tone with Minho apart from plain hateful. There was never an explanation why, but the boys have both hated each other since the moment Mn joined in high school. Something about the boy was just annoying to Minho.

"Shut up."

Mn rolls his eyes before continuing his reading.

Ugh. This kid is so annoying? Why do I have to be in the same class as him?! Why am I his enemy and why is he so goddamn handsome?!

Minho's thoughts were interrupted by the teacher's voice echoing through the classroom.

"Our exams are starting soon, so I hope you've been preparing. And you can get a study buddy if you'd like. I did that all the time when I was a student."

The teacher's statement was followed by groans from the students. But can you blame them? No one likes exams, and these were moody teenagers who hated everyone except their daily coffee.

"Mn, could you collect the assignments from the students?", the teacher asked Mn. He nods, mumbles a quick "yes sir" and gets up from his seat, his tall frame still amazing Minho. As he collected the assignments from the students, Minho couldn't help but stare at the stoic boy's hands. They were so big and pretty.

His hands…oh god. Wait..is this a crush?! No…no no no..that can't be…why would I have a crush on a boy?!!! And that too, him?! I mean..he's not bad…he's handsome, funny, kind, smart, talente- stop it, you idiot! I do not like him. He won't like me anyway…

After a boring lesson about stages of cell division, the class let out. Mn was groggily walking towards his History classroom.

Ugh..why should I learn these things?! It's already over. Done. They're all dead. Besides, I want to become a fucking scientist…no one's gonna ask me about the fucking Industrial Revolution. I just wanna go home and sleep.

He walks to his History classroom and stops as he feels a tug on his sleeve. He turns around. It was Soyeon, one of his closest friends.

"You still don't have a date to prom, do you?"

"Ugh, when is it?"

"It's literally day after tomorrow. How can you not know that, dumbass?"

"Hey! I'm a genius, mind you", he jokes, trying to hide the fact that he does not, in fact, have a date to prom.

"Knowing physics doesn't mean you're good with people."

"For the love of god, can you stop with the lecture?"

"Yeah yeah whatever. I'm going with Chan anyways, so.."

"Chan?! He's so cute…", he says, a cute smile on his face, earning a fake dramatic gasp from Soyeon as her eyes lit up.

"You have a crush on him!"

"No! I just think he's so adorable. I think all short people are adorable. Including you, Soyeon~"

"Ouch. You can't just insult and compliment two people in the same sentence."

"Short is not an insult, you idiot. It is simply a measure of height."

"Yeah, right. Anyways, gotta go to class. I got English next."

"Bye."

"Oh, and get a date. I want to see you all dressed up and out of this fucking grey hoodie you have."

"Ugh whateverrr."

Soyeon chuckles at his annoyance and walks to class.

During class, Mn can't help but notice Minho stare at him. But for some reason, he doesn't mind at all. He kinda likes it.

Does he like me or something? Should I…ask him to prom?..No…that's just stupid, Mn, why would you do that?! He's your rival, stupid. I mean…I-

The bell rang and the class ran out.

He walked mindlessly out of the class. It was lunch now, and he couldn't bear to sit in the loud cafeteria full of obnoxious kids, so he goes to the music room. He was so overwhelmed by his thoughts that his appetite had left faster than a class of students being dismissed. He sat at the piano and began practicing for the concert that night. It was Mahler's 5th symphony, one of his favorites.

Minho heard this, but he didn't bother to follow the sound. He knew that it was Mn, only he could play so perfectly. He didn't want to walk into where Mn was…after all, he was trying to rid his thoughts of him. The perfect Mn Ln. The beautiful genius who played with numbers, instruments, and hearts. The heartbreaker. His rival.

Mn was clearing his head quite well. The sound of the calming symphony was perfect to ease his nerves.

Changbin 💪

do you actually have a crush on him?!

Me

i think so, yeah..

Changbin 💪

good luck getting him with all the girls fawning over him

Me

idek if i have a crush on him tho

Changbin 💪

minho, come to a damn conclusion, will ya?

Me

ok ! fine! i have a crush on him.

Changbin 💪

oh god, you weren't kidding, were you? you actually like Mn??

Me

no..ugh..this is so hard..

Changbin 💪

maybe you should ask him to prom

Me

he probably doesn't even want to go

Changbin 💪

maybe he will if you ask him ;)

Me

don't already establish that he likes me

Changbin 💪

right…i won't give you hope. but maybe…just maybe..

Me

alr..i'll ask him tomorrow. my parents are dragging me to some concert tonight…eomma's friend's son's the percussionist or smth.

Changbin 💪

alr then. night

Me

night<3

Ugh..why do i have to have a crush on him?! I don't even know if he likes guys..

He gets ready to go to the stupid concert and when he gets there….he sees Mn. On the piano. And oh my, did he look handsome. He wore a black suit, perfect. A black watch, perfect. And a thin silver chain on his neck. Perfecto. They way his fingers glided over the piano, how beautifully he played the perfect symphony, how fucking prince-like he looked in the lighting of the concert hall. There was no doubt about it, Minho had a crush. A big one.

Mn was lost in the music, beautifully in sync with the orchestra. He had his eyes on the piano and when he eventually shifted his gaze to the audience, his eyes locked with Minho's deep brown ones. He looked shocked for a second. 'Is he following me everywhere?' But he smiled. The small curve of his pink lips that Minho has always adored, though he'd never say it out loud. Or would he?

The concert ended and Minho found Mn outside.

"Mn! I wanna talk to you."

Mn? He's always called him Ln with a sharp tone. Like how Malfoy would address Harry.

"Yeah? What is it?" Mn's voice was uncharacteristically soft…almost too soft to be talking to his long-time rival. They'd known each other since they were thirteen, and it was only now, at seventeen that they're realizing their obvious crushes on each other. What they didn't know was that half the school secretly shipped the them. After all, how were they supposed to know that the short love story between two boys written by a fellow classmate for an English assignment was about them?!

"I just wanted to say that…the concert, yeah..the concert was…great."

"Oh..thank you. I appreciate it."

"..You going to prom?"

"Haven't found a date."

"No one asked you?!" He was shocked. There was no way that Mn hasn't been asked yet.

"They did, but…"

"But what?"

"I..I don't know. I mean, I barely know them."

"So you're not going with anyone as of now?"

"Nope."

"Then can I…ask you?"

"W-What?"

"Will you go to prom with me, Mn?" Minho's nerves were killing him. If Mn said no, which he probably will, he would just evaporate into thin air. Oh god..why did I ask that? He'll say no for su-

"I..I'd love to.."

"Huh?"

Mn chuckles. Minho's confused expression was…adorable, to say the least. He couldn't help but tease the boy. He leans in, leans a bit down too, to match Minho's height.

"You heard me, love."

LOVE?! HE'S CALLING ME LOVE!! I CAN'T- …alright, calm down, Minho, deep breaths.

"I-I didn't. Say it again."

"I said…I would love to go to prom with you, darling."

DARLI-

He smiles as brightly as the moon shines in the background of their interaction and he wraps his arms around his rival that he'd wanted to hug for so long. Mn could now possibly be his. Mn was a bit startled by the sudden physical affection, but he certainly wasn't complaining. He returned the hug, feeling Minho relaxing into his body.

Minho has always squealed over those enemies to lovers stories. Maybe he wouldn't need stories for that now.

And Mn? He didn't mean to serenade Minho, but he did.

[i-talk-too-much]

A Misunderstanding (Part 2)

Dick Grayson x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 2,272

Warnings: none, smut in later chapters

A/N: it's been *checks watch* way longer than I thought it would be. oops. also, I made a little oopsie in part 1, I originally wrote her final was in two days, but it was actually supposed to be in a week… so I have that changed now ahaha. Anyways

(Part 1)

Summary: You and Dick were childhood friends before you both drifted apart - him living with Bruce and you moving away. You are reunited after you move to Gotham and Nightwing saves you from a criminal.

————————–

Dick laid awake in his bed that night, the covers splayed around his legs. The thoughts swarming his mind about the earlier meeting kept him awake. Your face, your mannerisms, everything – nothing changed after sixteen years. 

No, that’s not true. You had changed. You were no longer the kid he knew back when he was in the circus. You grew up, just as he had. And the time in your apartment proved it.

He didn’t know what pushed him to visit you. To check on you, he said, but that was something he thought of in the moment, a simple excuse to talk to you more. 

He brought his hands to his face, palms against his eyes as he sighed into the still air.

He felt like an idiot. How could he have let the time go? Why did he not respond to your letter all those years ago? 

Actually, Dick knew why. He knew exactly why he dropped the letter into his drawer and forced himself to ignore it. But, it seemed so stupid in retrospect.

He shifted to lay on his side, hoping the change in position would allow him some much needed sleep. Instead, his eyes caught sight of his desk.

A thought formed in his mind and he sat up. 

He could write you a letter – a letter explaining what happened. Maybe he could ask to meet-up, if you were willing.

And with hope filling his chest, he left his messy bed and set to work.

——

You were stressed. Stressed out of your goddamn mind for the exam that was tomorrow. 

Honestly, you probably didn’t have to be as worried as you were – you had been putting your all into your classes. But, it never hurt to study more, to go to the library for a last-minute review.

Reaching the first floor of your apartment building, you passed by the long hallway of mailboxes.

You paused by the entrance, deciding on a whim to look in your own. It was long since due for a check-in, a pile of letters no doubt straining against the small compartment. Everything was digital nowadays, including your bills. Opening the small storage in the wall, you wondered what kind of mail you’d receive.

There was less than you imagined. Approximately six sat inside and you pulled them out, sorting through each, none grabbing your attention. That was, until the last letter came into view.

It was sleek – the envelope colored black with the flap on the back taped down by a dark blue sticker. It was charming. You read the white-inked ‘from’ address, the name almost making you drop everything you were holding. 

Dick Grayson.

“What the hell,” you slowly whispered into the empty hallway, your brows furrowing. You re-read it two more times, disbelieving the written name. 

How the hell did he get your address? And why was he sending you a letter now? It’s been sixteen years! He should’ve forgotten all about you at this point.

You thought he had, after not receiving a reply. A nostalgic ache settled in your chest, the familiarity of it making you shake your head, stuffing the black letter and the others into your bag. You didn’t have time for this, you needed to get to the library. 

The walk to the building was filled with thoughts about nothing but the letter. What could he have written? What would have made him send you a message, sixteen years after you sent yours? Did he only now receive the letter you sent? 

You scoffed at the last idea. 

You had more faith in the postal service than the fucking police, there’s no way it was only now delivered. Then, what could the reason be? It felt as if the envelope was burning a hole in your bag, you being acutely aware of it sitting inside, holding the answers to all your questions.

By the time you arrived at your destination, you had mentally gone through every possibility. Countless scenarios ran through your mind and none of them seemed to fit. 

This was bad – you needed to focus on studying. 

Finding a secluded area in the library – a table in the back – you plopped into a chair and pulled out your laptop, some papers and set to work. Every so often, your eyes traveled to your bag, the letter taunting you. It was after thirty minutes passed and all you managed to do was stare at a page thoughtlessly, that you finally decided to open it.

You gently took out the envelope and slowly peeled the blue sticker from the back. Lifting the flap, the page inside felt expensive. Sliding the paper out and unfolding it, your eyes scanned the words, absorbing the content inside.

To Y/N:

Hope you’re doing well. It’s been a long while since we've last seen each other, huh?

 …Mainly my fault, I admit. 

I did get your letter all those years ago, but I placed it in a cabinet and forgot. Life became busy, time sped by, and I never had the chance to look at what you sent me.

Until I began looking through old bins in storage and found yours inside.

I promise I never forgot about you. Not one day. I just never had…time.

I know it's been almost 16 years, and it might be a bit late for me to mend ties – but would you want to grab coffee sometime?

Here's my number if you–

You stopped reading, feeling an inexplicable wave of indignation course through your veins.

Were you that easy to brush aside? To forget? Surely, in sixteen years, there would have been at least a moment where he could've reached out to you.

And yet, here he was, sixteen years later with a half-assed explanation and a nonchalance that irritated you.

He was funny if he thought you would cave so easily. To rush to send him a message, to call and hear his voice.

You ignored the slight clench of your heart. 

If he made you wait sixteen years, he'd have to accept waiting a little bit more. 

——

You didn’t know how you got through that exam, but you did. 

The moment your feet stepped onto the sidewalk outside your college building, you felt an imaginary weight lift off your shoulders. Taking a deep breath, the air inside your lungs almost felt cleaner. Almost.

With the results of that exam out of your hands now, all that was left was to enjoy the break and wait for the final grade. You had half the mind to go out to the club to celebrate, but the recent mugging still made your blood run cold.

Bing-watching a show with take-out it was, then. 

And two hours later, that was still the plan – until a certain hero dropped by your fire escape window and invited himself inside to lounge on your couch.

"Is this gonna be like – a thing?" You motioned ambiguously toward the situation with your hands. "You stopping by my apartment on your patrols?"

He shrugged and grinned, a cheeky smile reaching his eyes. "It can if you want it to be." 

You resisted the urge to roll your eyes, instead opting to offer the man some of your food. “Want some? It just came, like, fifteen minutes ago.”

He smiled at the hand-out, taking the deliciously-filled plate with both hands and chowing down as he settled back into the cushioned seat. “Plus, I’m on break. The others can call if they need me,” he said, stuffing his mouth with a forkful of food. “So, what are we watching?” 

“Well,” you began. ”I’m watching a space documentary. You’re trespassing.”

Nightwing gasped dramatically, splaying a hand across his chest. “Me? Trespassing? I would never.”

You chortled, deciding right then that he’d always be permitted in your apartment – but you wouldn’t tell him that. Pressing play on the remote, you leaned back and copied his position against the couch.

While you were absorbed in the beautifully rendered scenes of the cosmos, you didn’t notice Nightwing glancing around your living room, taking in every little detail. His eyes landed on a certain black envelope sitting on a desk by the window.

“Damn, that’s insane!” You exclaimed, amazed by the facts shown on the screen. You leaned forward and placed your fork down with your finished plate on the coffee table. “Hey, do you think the stars–” you cut off, seeing his head turned toward the window. “Nightwing?”

He seemed to be lost in thought for a moment until he replied, “yeah? Sorry, what were you saying?”

You paused, observing his expression before responding softly. “Everything all right?”

“No, yeah, definitely. Just got distracted by something shiny, s’all.” He got up, taking his empty plate along with yours to the kitchen sink. “You know, that black envelope looks fancy. Looks like one of those wealthy Gala invitations.” 

“Huh?” Your eyes fitted over to your desk. “Ah, that? Nah, it’s just a letter from someone I knew.”

“Knew?” You heard the sound of running water and dishes clattering. What a gentleman. “Not a lover, then?”

“Pfft, no,” you laughed, taking a sip from your cup. “He’s a childhood friend I lost contact with. Somehow he found my address and sent a letter.” After a moment, you added, “and now that I think about it, it’s a little creepy.”

Forced laughter seemed to bubble from Nightwing’s lips, the sound reverberating through the small apartment.

“Can I ask who the sender is?” His voice held a light note to it. You raised a brow. 

“Why? Jealous?” You teased, almost wishing he was.

A bark of a laugh escaped his being as he replied. “Jealous? Yeah, sure, let’s call it that.” 

Deciding to satiate his curiosity, you answered truthfully. “If you really want to know, it’s from Dick Grayson.”

“Grayson, huh? Bruce Wanyne’s trust fund kid?” At your wordless confirmation, his lips upturned in a joking manner. 

“Tell you what, if he’s creepy,” Nightwing paused, placing his hands on his hips. “I’ll protect you from him.”

“Oh, yeah?” Your lips matched his own, humor thick in your voice. “And how are you going to do that?”

He crossed his arms. “With my fighting skills,” he answered defensively, then mumbled, “obviously.”

You chuckled at the pout on his lips. “Obviously.”

“In all seriousness though,” he moved around across the room and lifted the letter before continuing, “wouldn’t hurt to reach out to him, if you’re comfortable. Did you two part on bad terms?”

“I mean,” you paused, resting your cheek on your palm and mulled over the answer. “I don’t think so?”

Nightwing shrugged. “Then it’d probably be fine, right?”

You opened your mouth to respond, but something about his attention to the letter felt off. With the way he was acting, it seemed personal. You narrowed your eyes.

“You know,” you tilted your head. “With how determined you are, it’s almost like…” 

Nightwing’s head swirled toward you, waiting for you to finish your sentence.

“You’re friends with him, aren’t you?” 

His shoulders visibly sagged at your statement, the corner of his lip lifting. “Was it that obvious?” 

“Wait, so is that how he got my address? From you?” You stood up, slowly walking towards the man standing by the desk as you became lost in thought. “Was that why you were shocked when you saw my ID? Did Dick talk to you about me?” Hope filled your voice, the emotion speeding up your words.

Nightwing raised his hands, stopping you from crashing into his chest. “Slow your roll, Y/N. One question at a time.”

“Did you tell him my address,” you asked, crossing your arms and straightening your back. 

“I did,” he answered. No part of him appeared guilty, however. 

Your mouth tightened with displeasure. “Without my permission? Why?”

He brought his hand to the side of his head, scratching the space behind his ear. 

“I knew how much he wanted to see you again, so I thought it'd be fine.” After a moment of your unwavering stare, he quickly added, “and now that I see your reaction, I’m never going to do that again before asking you.”

You breathed out a laugh. “You say that like there’ll be others asking for my address.” 

Nightwing’s body relaxed at your softened expression. ”Knowing you for as long as I have, I’m sure there will be.”

You take a moment during the lull in conversation to walk toward the couch and sit on the armrest.

“What’s he like?” You brought your uncertain gaze to his. ”Do you think I should reply to him?” 

He leaned back against the desk and lifted his shoulders nonchalantly. “From my standpoint, I’d say go for it. If you decide he’s not worth it, just block him. No harm, no foul.”

He moved toward the window, opening it just enough to slip onto the fire escape before turning back and facing you.

“And if he was truly a dickhead, I’d tell you. In the end, though, it’s up to you. Your choice.”

——

That night, you kept turning the letter in your hands, rereading the last lines. 

Here’s my number if you want to give it a chance. Text or call, anytime. 

(xxx) xxx-xxxx

Your friend always,

Dick Grayson

Nightwing was right.

There’s no harm in catching up with an old friend. And if things go south, you could just block him and move on. You've moved on once before, you could do it again.

Contemplating it one last time, you steeled your resolve and saved his number into your phone before typing out a message.

————————–

Tagging: @bluebirdhangingonawheepingtree @hungryhungarian @escapism-r-us @xasement @zbeez-outlet @scrambled-eggs-y

[someone-who-loves-kpop-saranghae]

Stress Reliever

Ler: Seonghwa

Lee: Reader

Warnings: fluff, stress, reader anxious, mentions of depressions

Genre: This fiction is about tickling, so if you don't feel like reading it then don't do it.

A/n: Sorry this isn't about the tickletober but I wanted to write it because I often take my feelings into my stories..

🖤⭐🖤⭐🖤⭐🖤⭐🖤⭐🖤⭐🖤⭐🖤⭐🖤

It has been a long week, even though it was only wednesday. The teachers this year love complicated homeworks and some just never explained their themes.

So the whole week you had that one teacher who stressed you so damnit much. She was (of course!) your maths teacher.

She was an old lady who teached the same themes and same classes for like 40 years now. Even parents of your friends had been teached in maths by her.

The problem was: she was ... special.

Very... special. For example, she had her own way to explain, and literally nobody (only the three maths geniouses in your class) understood it.

And when someone asked a question, she just explained another theme! She literally never explained the theme/question it self, she just said how beautiful your stuff was. Or how well drawn this exercise was. Or that you need to do this and this when you want to do this. But she never explained what you wanted her to explain. Ne.Ver.

The second problem was, that she introduced a new, complicated theme and you didn't understand it. Nothing you did made you understand it. And every day, she introduced new mini-themes to that theme.

Every. Goddamn. Day.

You did only get like 4/12. And that was not good. But you knew that yourself! You were so stressed because you were going to write an exam about that theme soon but you just didn't understand. So you were stressed. Very stressed.

Not only because of maths, but because you also were sick the last two days and had to review and copy all the stuff from your friends. You had already copied some stuff and done some homework, but not all.

So today you had school until 15:30 and came home at 16:40. Tomorrow was a vocabulary test in french.

You had to copy three worksheets in history because you'd need them the next day. Three work sheets. Full of text.

Besides that, there were the english homework: reading a 4 pages short story and analyzing it. Then maths -of course- because you had maths every singe day.

So you came home at 16:40, Seonghwa waiting for you. "Hey my friend, how was your day?" he asked as you came in.

You just waved and went busy into your room.

"Okay" you said, to not make him think about you. But no chance with Seonghwa.

He followed you -of course- and stood in the door, watching you worried.

"Hey... are you okay?" he asked. You just shook your head.

"Hey" he whispered. "I'm here for you" and came closer.

You took some deep breaths to hold back your tears and went in the kitchen to get some food because you were hungry.

Then you sat down in the kitchen at a table and started eating. He came to you and sat down next to you.

"Wanna talk?" he asked softly.

You just shook your head again, because if you talked, you would start crying. As you stopped eating and stood up, took your dishes into the cleaner and wanted to walk to your room again, he grabbed your arm as you were walking up next to him.

He pulled you closer and then in his lap. "You know I'm here for you, right? You can talk to me. I love you" he whispered.

A first tear now rolled down your cheek. "I know"

He wiped away the tear. "Sure you don't wanna talk?" he asked again.

"I'm just so ... stressed. I have so many homeworks and studies left and it's already 5pm! I gotta go shower today, I gotta study french vocabs, I gotta do maths, english history,... It's so much! I suffer from school. I mean, I'm only (your age) years old! I can't handle this all by myself. I don't understand maths, history is too much, i have problems remembering some vocabs in french and english is so much! I gotta study until midnight if i wanna do this all!" you whispered, a second tear rolling down your cheek.

"It's okay" he whispered back. "I'm here for you. I can help you. We can do this. I promise, I won't let you suffer. At least not alone. I'll always be here for you. I love you. Thank you for coming into my life."

You nodded lightly and hugged him. "Thank you Hwa".

"It's okay. I'm here for you. Now lemme see that smile again, cutie" he said and pinched your cheek softly.

You weren't able to react much, just lightly smile.

"Pleaseee? Pretty pleasee?" he said teasingly.

You giggled lightly because his behavior was so childish.

"Aww your giggles are so cute! And I know how to make you even cuter~" he said and smirked.

He let his hands slide under your hoodie and lightly clawed over your tummy. What indeed made you giggle.

But you didn't even care, you actually enjoyed it this time because you were so stressed and sad these days, you could really need a little cheer up.

And he felt that. That you needed it. So he went for your sides, ribs and back too, he scribbled and clawed all over them while you giggled your heart out.

As you cried tears from giggling and laughing so much, he stopped and hugged you.

You hugged him back and whispered a "thank you" into his ear.

He smiled softly. "You're welcome, sweetie" he said.

"And now we're gonna kick those stupid homeworks in their butts and beat them up, right?" he motivated you.

You laughed a bit. "Yeah, sure" you replied.

"And I'll help you <3" he whispered and tickled you under your chin quickly, before you both went to do your homework s and learn your vocabs.

In the end, you only needed 2 1/2 hours to complete it all with Seonghwa's help.

+End+

A/n: Sorry this fic is so depressing, but I tried my best. I just can't write these days, I know it. Just how I feel rn. Not interesting, I know .. but ..something. Also the tword scene isn't very long, so sorry for those who expected more. I understand you.

[1-sasha-stuff-1]

Chapter 12: Exam Day of Into Another World a MHAxReader fanfic

A/n:

I go back to school tomorrow :( (Send help).

Anyways, here's the next chapter and I hope you enjoy!

Warning: some language here and there (Don't really proofread any of the chapters that I write so if anything is off or something, I'm sorry. I'm just too lazy to check sometimes but I'll work on it, lol.)

Key:

d/n - dogs name

h/s - hair style

| | | | | | | | |

"I'll see you later, d/n. Wish me luck!" 

You locked the door to your home and walked down the pathway and onto the sidewalk. As you walked on, you enjoyed the calmness and quietness of the streets before they got busy and noisy. The display of warm colors had taken over the sky, creating a contrast with the blue and white clouds. The sun seemed to resemble a golden coin, or a dazzling gem in the sky.

And where were you heading so early in the morning? Well, you were going to take the entrance exam at no other than the most prestigious high school for future heroes.

UA High.

It was currently early in the morning, about 7:30, but the entrance exam started at 8:30 and you wanted to make sure you got there early. The day before, you had asked Midoriya if he wanted to walk with you so that you both could go together, but he had other plans. Well, the plans being that he had to go to the beach and inherit All Might's quirk, but you didn't need to know that. You wore your black sweatpants with a f/c shirt and put your hair in a h/s, along with your favorite shoes that always seemed to travel with you wherever you went. Although it was still peaceful outside, someone decided to ruin it.

"Oi, Insect! Wait a goddamn minute!"

Turning around, you spotted Bakugo a few meters behind you, walking towards you with an angry expression. Sighing, you turned around to fully face him as you also stopped walking in the process, hands shoved into the pockets of your pants.

Ever since he tried to blow up Midoriya and you took the hit for him and after class the same day, he kept his distance from you. Even when you sat at your desk and Bakugo beside you, he kept his mouth shut most of the time, only really calling you 'pest' or 'insect'.

"Huh, wonder what he wants...."

He finally came up to you and you both began to silently walk together towards UA. Neither one of you said anything to the other person.

A few minutes passed and still, the two of you were too stubborn to talk to each other first, so as per usual, you broke the ice first as you kept your head forward but talked.

"So, how's it been?"

It was quiet again until Bakugo spoke up.

"What's it to you? And besides, why are you even talking to me, huh?"

"Well, you were the one to say 'Wait up, you pest!', weren't you?"

Now it was your turn to roll your eyes at him.

"Come on, be for real right now, Bakugo."

"I am being for real, you damn pest!"

"Uh huh, sure you are."

It turned into a (yet again) silent walk once more for about ten minutes until it was broken, but by the young male beside you.

"I’m talking about your left side."

Looking forward, you hum in thought. Was he being an ass to you, or was he actually genuinely worried? 

“It’ll be fine. I’ll just have to be on some medication for a month or two, maybe only a week if my body works it out faster or whatever.”

Although you didn’t see it, Bakugo exhaled a breath he was seemingly holding in, now releasing how tense he was as he was awaiting your answer. He didn’t want to accept the truth, but he was pretty worried for your condition after the incident had happened.

You glanced at him from the corner of your eye, noticing how his brows were furrowed and his lips were pressed into a thin line. You felt a pang in your chest, knowing that he blamed himself for what happened to you. You wanted to say something to reassure him, but you didn't know how to break the ice.

You decided to change the topic and lighten the mood.

"So, are you ready for the entrance exam?" you asked casually, hoping to spark some conversation.

He snorted and looked at you with a smug grin.

"Of course I am. I'm going to ace it and become the number one hero. You should be glad that you're walking with me. Maybe some of my greatness will rub off on you."

You rolled your eyes again, but this time you smiled.

"Yeah, yeah, whatever you say, Bakugo. Just don't get too cocky and blow yourself up, okay?"

He scoffed and glared at you.

"As if that would ever happen. I'm not like that useless Deku who doesn't have a quirk. I'm a natural genius, him."

You shook your head and chuckled dryly.

"Sure, sure. Keep telling yourself that, Bakugo. Maybe one day you'll actually believe it."

He growled and clenched his fists.

"Shut up, you pest! You're so annoying!"

You laughed and nudged him playfully.

"Aw, come on, Bakugo. Don't be like that. You know I'm just teasing you. You're my friend, after all."

He blinked and looked at you with a surprised expression.

"Friend? Since when are we friends?"

You smiled and shrugged.

"Since now, I guess. Unless you have a problem with that."

He looked away and muttered something under his breath.

"No, I don't have a problem with that. It's fine."

You grinned and wrapped your arm around his shoulder.

"Great! Then it's settled. We're friends. And friends stick together, right?"

He sighed and rolled his eyes, but he didn't push you away.

"Yeah, yeah, whatever. Just don't get in my way, okay?"

You winked and gave him a thumbs up.

"Got it. I won't get in your way. I'll just be right behind you, cheering you on."

He smirked and nudged you back.

"That's more like it. Now let's go and show them what I’m made of."

You rolled your eyes and followed him as he quickened his pace and walked slightly ahead of you so that you couldn’t see the red that crept onto his face.

| | | | | | | |

The two of you conversed with each other as you entered the gates of UA, slightly getting to know each other better as they both thought the same thing in their heads. 

"I guess being friends with her/him isn't so bad after all...."

As the two of you walked on, students around started to whisper among themselves and their friends/classmates. 

"Isn't he from the sludge villain incident?"

"Who's that walking next to him, his girlfriend?"

"Nah, I heard from a friend of mine that goes to their middle school, they're apparent rivals of some sorts...."

The whispers went on and on as the two teens walked on, that is until Y/n got a rough nudge from Bakugo as he looked over to someone else in the crowd.

Midoriya.

Bakugo guided the two of you towards his direction as he "accidentally" bumped into the poor boy as he stopped his muttering and looked at Bakugo.

"K-Kacchan! I-"

Before he could finish his sentence, he looked at you with confusion and slight betrayal in his eyes. 

"Y-Y/n?"

Smiling tensely, you looked between the boy standing in front of you and beside you. 

"How's it going Izuku? It's good to see you-"

"Why are you with him?"

Confusion came across your face as you looked at the green haired boy, was he mad?

In his mind, he was slightly hurt that you had walked with Bakugo instead of him, even though he couldn’t walk with you to begin with, but he couldn’t help feeling those emotions.

“Why do feelings have to be so complicated?”

"I was just walking with him over here for the exams, you know, since you were busy with something."

"R-right, sorry."

"No, it's alright Izuku, don't worry about it!"

Bakugo tsked as he looked at the two of you, slight disgust written on his face.

"Eh, you guys are weak, I'm going to go and ace this test. Unlike you two."

Bakugo walked off, leaving the two of you alone.

Looking at Midoriya, you smile as he smiles back and you both continue on your walk.

You felt a wave of relief wash over you as Bakugo left. You didn't like how he treated Midoriya. You hoped that he wouldn't bother you again during the exam.

You turned your attention to Midoriya, who was still looking at you with a mix of curiosity and admiration. You wondered what he was thinking, and if he still felt the same way about you as he did before.

You decided to break the silence and start a conversation.

"So, Izuku, are you excited for the exam?"

He nodded and smiled.

"Yeah, I am. I've been studying and training hard for this. I want to prove myself and become a hero. Just like All Might."

You smiled back and nodded.

"I know, Izuku. You’ll do amazing, I'm sure. Even without a quirk"

He blushed and looked away while laughing awkwardly.

“Y-yea, right. Without a quirk….”

| | | | | | | | |

“WELLLLLLCOME!!!!!! EVERYONE SAY ‘HEY!’”

Everyone in the huge room was silent.

“Damn, I feel bad for the man.”

Is all you thought as Present Mic silently said a low ‘okay’.

“Anyways! I’m here to present to you the guidelines of your Entrance Exam!”

Besides you on your left sat Midoriya as he fanboyed over the pro hero (Present Mic) talking about the Entrance Exam as Bakugo sat to your right and rolled his eyes.

“Will you tell Deku to shut the fuck up? If you don’t, I’ll do it myself!”

Bakugo silently whispered (yelled) in your ear as you turned to face Midoriya.

“Izuku! Please be quiet or you’ll ask questions on what he had been saying later!”

“R-Right, sorry Y/n!”

Midoirya was now quiet as you all began to pay attention to the loud hero once more. 

“After the presentation concludes, you’ll all head straight towards the location you have on the card that was given to you all earlier!”

Looking down at your card, you noticed that it had the letter ‘G’ while Midoriya had his location the same as it was in the Anime, along with Bakugo.

“They're separating us so that none of us from the same middle school can work together, uh. I was hoping to beat Deku’s ass.”

“H-HUH?!”

“Each site contains three types of faux villains, you will have to use your quirks to defeat them and earn the points that they may have! Obsoully based on the type of villain you defeat!”

“Excuse me! May I ask a question!”

Turning towards the direction of the voice, you see a dark blue haired boy with glasses standing up from his seat while holding the piece of paper on the information you would have to know about the practical exam. 

Tenya Iida.

“Come to think of it, Midoriya didn’t run into Uraraka like he originally did….”

You got lost in your thoughts as Iida continued on with his little rant on the fourth faux villain, until he pointed towards the green haired boy behind you.

“And you! The one with curly hair next to the h/c girl! You’ve been muttering this whole time, it’s distracting! If you can’t take this exam seriously then leave!”

Midoirya muttered a small ‘sorry’ and shrank down into his seat as you patted his shoulder, telling him it was okay as Present Mic answered Iida’s question.

“Um, Nice catch, examine 7111! Although, unlike the rest of the faux villains that are worth one, two, or three points, that fourth one is worth zero points!”

The blue haired boy pushed his glasses backup and sat back down.

“Thank you for clearing up that information! I apologize for not reading the handout thoroughly enough!”

Present Mic was seen having a few sweat drops from his forehead until he cleared his throat and began to talk once more. 

“It’s alright! That villain is kinda like a security guard of sorts! But instead of giving you  points to defeat it, it’s just a barrier trying to waste your time, so I would just ignore it and continue on my way if I were you!”

He clapped his hands together as he was concluding the presentation.

“Now, go break a leg out there everyone!”

“PLUS ULTA!”

| | | | | | | |

Standing outside of a fake city labeled G, you felt a surge of adrenaline and anxiety. 

You could see the tall buildings, the narrow streets, and the hidden traps that awaited you. 

“Breathe in, breathe out…” you whispered to yourself, trying to calm your racing heart. 

You scanned the crowd of other participants, hoping to spot a friendly face, but you recognized no one. 

You were alone in this challenge. 

Sighing, you headed closer to the massive gates of the city and continued to control your breathing. 

“Alright, Y/n, you got this. The minute he says to start, run as fast as you can.” You repeat your mantra in your mind, psyching yourself up for the task ahead. 

“Breathe in, breathe out, in, out, in, out…” You heard a loud voice booming from the speakers. 

“BEGIN!!!” 

You didn’t hesitate. 

You sprinted towards the now open gates as the rest of the crowd stood there, stunned and confused. You ignored what Present Mic was saying, something about following your example or whatever. 

Upon entering the city, you closed your eyes as you focused on using your quirk to turn small and the all too familiar hornet wings sprouted from your back. You soared into the air, searching for the robots. 

You were determined to prove yourself in this exam.

| | | |

Same time, different location….

| | | | | |

In a spacious room, several UA teachers were watching the students on multiple screens, each showing a different part of the entrance exam. 

They were commenting on the performance of the applicants, especially the ones who stood out from the crowd.

“Well, that was unexpected.” A man with long, black hair  said as he saw the all too familiar girl with wings fly over the city, dodging the robots that tried to shoot her down as she was the one to take them down.

“Ooh, how daring. She must have a lot of confidence in her abilities. I wonder what else she can do with those wings.” A woman with a revealing costume said, admiring the girl’s boldness.

“Indeed, she seemed to have shown great initiative and courage. She also wasted no time in entering the city and activating her Quirk, what’s her name anyways?” 

A man in a cowboy getup asked as he leaned over to a white mouse in a suit, who was operating a computer.

“L/n Y/n is the name and her quirk seems to be called Hornet! I suspect it’s a mutation type of quirk.” The mouse said, pulling up a separate screen with Y/n’s information. 

“She can transform into a human-sized hornet or shrink to the size of a regular insect.”

“She’s smart, too. She knows that flying gives her an advantage over the ground-based robots. She can scout the area and avoid detection, especially because of how small she was able to turn herself.”

A man who was literally concret said a serious expression on his face as he analyzed the girl’s strategy.

“Hmm, yes, very impressive. But she should also be careful. It says that she has had a recent injury a couple months back, could ruin any plan she has in mind if she injures it again.” 

A man with wild, blond hair and a gentle smile said, expressing his concern.

“Hey, hey, hey! Don’t be so negative! Let’s cheer for our students! Go, Y/n, go! You’re the best! You’re the coolest! You’re the-” 

A man with tall, blond hair and sunglasses shouted, waving his arms.

“Enough, Present Mic. You’re giving me a headache. And you’re supposed to be impartial. You’re the announcer, not a fanboy.” 

The man with messy, black hair and a tired look said, rubbing his temples.

“Aw, come on, Eraser Head. Don’t be such a killjoy. Let me have some fun! Besides, didn’t you tell me you knew her or something? You should be cheering for her as well! I bet that Y/n girl is gonna be in the top 5!” Present Mic said, challenging his colleague.

“Oh? I bet she’ll get a place between 10 and 20.” The R-rated hero said, accepting the bet.

“Look, there’s one of the robots. It’s about to fire at her.” 

The skinny looking man said, otherwise known as All Might (in his weak form) said, pointing at the screen.

“Let’s see if she has a plan in mind or is just as reckless as one of us in this room.”

| | | | | |

A/n: 

Welp, Y/n is friends with Bakugo......Right?

And of course, Yn is totally not interfering with the cannon events and changing them without knowing herself......Right?

Anyways, you got the chapter and I hope you guys enjoyed it!

Have a good rest of your day! :)

[qvid-pro-qvo]

okay but what about sereshace + somebody having to study for some kind of exam + whatever song applies from your shuffle 💜 (pls & thank you)

6. top of my school - katherine lynn-rose. this got long, sorry, but hey, full fic?

And some people know that they're destined to fly I'll go all out Ace every test No doubt Outdo all the rest Don't pout Or settle for second best

Bradley hasn't heard from Jake in a while. And while normally it wouldn't be an issue, there's a nagging feeling in the back of his head that tells him it might be good to check on him.

Of course, he won't admit to anyone that's what he's doing at 10:00 PM on a Friday. As far as most people are concerned, him and Jake are bitter rivals, and Bradley doesn't contradict them. They have been rivals, seated on opposite ends of every class they've shared since the freshman year. While he and Natasha Trace found an alliance in each other (mostly due to their intense love of Red Bull and flight mechanics), he and Jake seemed to only claw at each other's throats, much to Nat's chagrin.

"Boys, you're both pretty," she'd often lament when the inevitable group projects paired them together (never by choice, of course), "and I've got a caffeine headache. Please, please, shut up and pick a variable."

But something changed this year. Maybe it was the level of coursework and the shared realization that any focus on a competition only took away from the fact that their lives were now destined to suck. Maybe it was the group projects, too many nights crashing on each other's couches after arguing about propulsion systems to truly hate each other. Maybe it was Natasha, who despite their constant bickering seemed to like the both of them (and yet would never admit it, even to their faces).

Anyway, Bradley feels the need to check on Jake Seresin. He hasn't gotten a text from him all day (not even one bragging about solving the practice set), and so by 10:00 his worry has built to uncomfortable levels. He texts Natasha, too, to see if she's heard from him, but her response is a quick you're worried, too? and a promise to meet him in the engineering library.

They get there at around 10:30. Backpacks shouldered, food in hand. With a shared look the two of them scale the stairs, moving in sync to the spot that started off at Bradley's and then Nat and Bradley's and then Jake, Nat, and Bradley's.

And of course, as expected, there he is. Jake Seresin. In his spot. In their spot.

Looking... rough.

The grip on his pencil is white knuckled as he mouths out formulas. His punching at the calculator is aggressive, and Bradley winces as he curses and shoves it aside. A few moments later, the two of them watch as he writes down something, erases it furiously, and then shoves the paper aside with... force.

Bradley has an inkling that after class Jake came straight here. Crumpled paper is piled up in the trashcan by their table, and the whiteboards look less than white with the amount of rubbed out dry erase. He recognizes the problem, the one assigned earlier that day. The one they said they'd work on together tomorrow.

"Seresin?" he calls out. No response.

"Jake?" Natasha says, a little louder. Still no answer.

Jake doesn't even look up from the table. His brow is furrowed so intensely that Bradley shares another look with Nat as they listen to the squeak of the Expo marker. Her eyes narrow at him, before walking up and placing the bag of food on the table right over Jake's paper.

"Evening, hotshot," she says, as he's jolted from his concentration. "Food break?"

The sudden movement makes Jake jump, and he looks up with anger at them. "What the fuck, Trace?" he snaps, moving the food off of his paper. "You're gonna get burger grease on my goddamn problem set."

"Our problem set, don't be selfish," Bradley retorts, smirking.

"I got a head start, Bradshaw, all right?" Jake grumbles, and crosses his arms over his chest. "Wanted to look it over. My... head didn't quite wrap around..."

And then he clams up. Mouth slams shut, and he hunkers down. Avoids their gaze. Bradley sees the bags under his eyes, anyway.

"I thought we said we'd get it done tomorrow," Natasha asks him, moving to sit at the table and poking at him. "What happened to teamwork makes the dream work?"

"Yeah, and ignoring the fact that Natasha dreams about us," Bradley jokes, which earns him a sharp kick in the shin, "it seems straightforward, right? If we all put our heads together..."

Immediately Jake seems to deflate, and Bradley realizes just how much his foot has gone in his mouth when Natasha glares at him. "I mean, it's certainly advanced -"

"Whatever," Jake says, shoving back from the table, away from them. His hand tosses his pencil onto it. "Can you guys just leave me alone?"

"We can help," Natasha counters, pushing closer to him. Bradley steps closer to, even as Jake scowls at him. "We can. What part doesn't make sense?"

"Trace -"

"Seresin. Just spill. What don't you understand?"

And then... something cracks. Jake's eyes blink at her, and then Bradley, and he squirms in his seat for a second before biting his lower lip.

"All of it. I don't. I don't get any of it. I... I don't get astrodynamics. It's... it's hard."

It's said with such defeat - like it's the worst thing he could've admitted to them. A shame seems to spread to every part of his body, as he slumps and avoids their gaze, fingers gripping his own sweatshirt with the intensity he held on the pencil.

There's a guilt that lingers in Bradley's gut, as he looks from Jake to Nat to Jake again. How did they not realize how much Jake was struggling? Sure, he always seemed to stay later in class, never seemed satisfied at the end of study sessions, but that was just Jake. Always chasing the goal, always pushing for the top spot. Jake worked and grinded and made it look easy.

And maybe that was the problem - looks can be deceiving.

Finally, Bradley sits down on the other side of Jake. Sighs before nudging the food to him.

"Of course it's hard," he finally tells Jake, whose brow furrows again. "It's a 4000-level course. It's meant to be. It's fucking tough, and Dr. Simpson is an ass. But if you're having trouble, Nat and I can help. You don't have to struggle through it alone. God knows I need all the help I can get... sometimes."

Jake raises a brow at him. "You both hit the top of the curve every time. When have you ever not gotten it by slamming your head into it, Bradshaw?"

Bradley shrugs. "I mean. We both have had struggles. Nat really hated Thermodynamics. Sophomore year was rough."

"And you should've seen how much he pulled out his hair during Solid Mechanics," Natasha says, smirking toward Bradley. "Never shaved because of stress and now we're both stuck with that ridiculous -"

"Hey!" Bradley yelps. Kicks at her, and ends up hitting Jake, who jumps up as Nat chuckles and leans back, satisfied.

But it works. Finally Jake smiles. The tension in his shoulders drops. The furrow between his brows loosens, and Bradley can't help but notice the way that smile lines seem to suit him so much better. "Stuck, huh?" he asks, raising a brow at them. "With both of you?"

"Yup," Nat says, popping the 'p'. "Like glue."

"Both of you are certainly tacky," Jake shoots back, which earns him a pinch from Nat and a snort from Bradley.

"Bad jokes mean you don't get the spicy fries," Natasha tells him, smiling at Bradley as he reaches for Jake's paper, looking over his work. She starts to dig in the bag, passing out the food to all three of them. "Ready to eat?"

"Don't tell me you're staying," Jake says, mouth falling open.

"No more peace and quiet. We're beating astrodynamics into submission," Bradley says firmly. He offers over a fry from his own bag. "Unless you... really want us to go."

And when Jake smiles, it's a full grin. Leans forward and eats the fry straight from Bradley's fingers. "Nope," he says. Popping the 'p'. "You're both stuck with me, too."

"Good," Bradley says. "Now shut up and eat your burger."

[woman-i-adore]

Entry no. 1 ~ 29-2-2023

A new blog. Perhaps the only social media account I plan on keeping (apart from YouTube for informational purposes). I'm not sure if this will end up being something I'll be commited to, but I figured it's worth the try.

I'll use this blog mainly to write out and keep track of my goals. Right at this moment I'm planning to get into medical school. I have a month to practice for the test. I need to get a perfect score to be able to stand a chance. I think I can do it. At least, I hope I do.

I've made a promise to myself to only focus on these two things for the following month: 1.) I have to believe in myself. I have to believe I can get into medical school. I tried last year, got overwhelmed, didn't believe I could do it, and then gave up and half-assed it. I cannot do the same again. 2.) I have to put in the time and effort to score a perfect score on the exam that I need to pass to get into medical school. It's the BMAT test. I know what I need to study, but consistency and discipline is goint to be my main problem. To be honest, I don't even know if a month will be enough, but it will have to be because I do not have more time. And failing is not an option. I have the tendency to get overwhelmed by the stress and the heavy workload and give up as a result of that. It will happen again this month, but I can not let that stop me. I will have to push through.

I need to get into medical school for a few reasons. But the main reason why it's so important to me right now is because I have lost faith in myself. My mediocre academic records due to my inability to get myself together and do what needs to be done has tanked my self-image. I would not say I hate myself, but I am not far from it. I am goddamned tired of myself and I would like to change a lot of things in my life.

For the past few years, I have felt as if I have remained in stagnation. Never moving forward. In fact, sometimes I feel as if I am moving backwards. Worsening. I am unhappy. I have been unhappy for a very long time. With my life, with myself. I drown in jealousy, am filled with envy. The only thing I have space left for is resentment for myself. It is no way to live.

So I plan on changing that. For today I will study two hours. After that I will go to bed. Tomorrow I will wake up at 9 AM.

[acefruit]

You are Not Sleeping on The Goddamn Floor 1/2

Rating: Mature

Archive Warning: tw mild smut (no sex)

Relationships: Dan Howell/Phil Lester

word count: 4,156

part two

AO3 link

tags below

Summary:

Dan and Phil's 2009 meeting reimagined. Dan is curious, they talk sexuality. Mild smut ensues.

Notes:

Okay. This is fucking embarrassing. Instead of studying for my state exam, I've made this. First fanfic I have written since my 1D times. Because it's dnp and mild smut, I feel like I'm committing a crime lol :(. If this finds some readers, I can write a second part. I'm gross. Enjoy -- (Beaware, English is not my first language)

Tags: 2009 Dan Howell, 2009 Phil Lester, First Kiss, Mild Smut, Kissing, Coming In Pants, Coming Out, Grinding, Awkward First Times, Virgin Dan Howell, Virgin Phil Lester, Virginity, Dan has a crush on Phil

---

Phil Lester / @AmazingPhil

:D @danisnotonfire gets here tomorrow 3:25 PM / 18 Oct 09

---

Dan would be lying if he tried to argue that he hadn’t imagined this exact moment playing out in his head over and over again since he and Phil started talking just a few months ago. A proper opportunity hadn’t presented itself until now; countless Skype conversations late into the night and thousands of exchanged Twitter messages later, Phil’s family had gone somewhere up North for a vacation and Dan was taking a gap year before starting his first semester in Manchester. With a free house for three whole days, the stars lined out for them just perfectly, presenting a chance to meet for the very first time.

He couldn’t help but feel his own heart fluttering when he disembarked the train in Manchester, looking for a lanky man with a similar build and a haircut to his own. Confused in a large city he had never been to before, Dan gave the appearance of a tourist with his large backpack and a tired expression only a person who had spent the last four hours on a train would have. For a moment he contemplated attempting to dig his phone out of the depths of his backpack and text Phil since he had hastily thrown it inside when he realised that it was his time to disembark.

Although he had planned out this moment to a tee, in the end, the two of them were tall, socially anxious guys who spent more time on the internet than they would likely admit, and neither knew how to handle these situations. On his way to Manchester, Dan carefully tailored a plan on how to approach Phil when meeting him for the first time, as if he were approaching a delicate creature, that could escape with one wrong move.

Nonetheless, he changed this plan at least three times on his way: first, he settled on shaking Phil’s hand, since hugging him could be seen as too much, and he didn’t exactly know the current state of Phil’s physical boundaries. For sure, not everybody is okay with hugs, especially on the first meeting. However, the more he reflected on this plan the less he seemed to like it; Why do people of similar age shake their hands anyway? Although Phil was four years older, this could make things more awkward, for sure. Dan reflected on one of the many long nights that they had spent talking on Skype well until dawn, with Phil already tucked in the bed with his laptop on the side, rubbing his tired eyes. “I am a cuddly person,” said he, but Dan couldn’t exactly recall the context of that conversation. Although this could have been the result of Phil’s tiredness or some sleepy delirious state that he had entered, at that moment, Dan’s eyes still twinkled with hope and excitement.

Okay, when he finds him, he will go for a hug. But maybe not a full hug, he will give him one of those half-hearted bro hugs with one of his arms just to play it safe, and…

His mind started racing. That was, until he felt a light tap on his shoulder, and he turned around.

“Hi, Dan,” smiled Phil. “Hey, our shirts are matching!”

Dan knew, that in this exact moment, his plans flew out of the window. Phil’s presence was radiant, and Dan couldn’t believe his eyes that he was actually there, right here, right now. Now, what was the plan? His mind was foggy; he wasn’t sure if it was the overstimulation from all the noises and crowdedness of a busy train station, Phil’s presence, his blue eyes, or a mixture of everything. Before Dan could decide on what his next move would be in this bewildered state, Phil had already opened his arms for Dan to step in and he found himself doing exactly that. When he felt Phil's arms wrap tightly around him, he immediately relaxed, resting his chin on Phil’s shoulder, reciprocating this short, but firm bear hug. For the first time in his life, since he was a small child, Dan felt safe.

“Hi,” he said softly, feeling a smile that began to form on his lips.

---

The two of them spent that October afternoon in Manchester in each other’s presence, and Dan couldn’t help but wonder how it all felt so natural. Although this was the first time that they saw each other face-to-face, the two young men carried on as if they had known each other for ages. They got drinks at a local Starbucks and visited the Manchester Ferris wheel in Piccadilly Gardens, took selfies in a nearby Apple Store, and ended their day at the top of Cloud 23 Hilton sky bar.

“I’ve planned out so much more,” said Phil in excitement on their bus ride home to his hometown, which was not far away from Manchester. The sun had begun to set, and the two sat next to each other in a comfortable silence, watching the countryside as they passed by.

---

After Phil gave Dan a house tour, they crashed at his bedroom, which Dan knew only from his computer so far. Although a little bit messy, it still resembled Phil. However, there was something new that he didn’t recognize. There, on the floor, laid a worn-down mattress with an extra duvet.

“Oh. Brought a mattress?” Dan said, pointing at it.

“Yup,” Phil nodded, putting Dan’s backpack on the ground, which he had carried up the stairs for him. “Don’t worry, you will get the bed.”

“Phil,” Dan said. “That looks like a piece of cardboard. You can’t be serious.”

“Oh c’mon.” He waved his hand. “It’s perfectly fine. Besides, I prefer harder surfaces anyway.”

“It’s literally a piece of cardboard.”

“Hey,” Phil said, maybe a little bit offended. “Let’s watch a movie. Shall we?”

He couldn’t help but roll his eyes. After both proceeded to change into comfier clothes, Dan hopped on the bed and rolled on his stomach, while Phil sat behind his desk and turned on his laptop.

“Besides,” Phil murmured after a while, typing into the keyboard. “I changed the bedsheets if that’s what’s worrying you. So, it’s safe for you to sleep in it.” He gave him a cheeky wink.

Dan ever so slightly turned his head to the side, in an attempt to inconspicuously inhale the scent of freshly washed sheets. For some strange reason, Dan’s heart sank just a tiny bit, when he found no trace of Phil’s smell. Instead, there was nothing but the perfumed aroma of a fabric softener. Not like he could point a finger at how Phil smelled anyway; he was pretty sure that the closest thing to a fragrance that Phil ever used was a shampoo and a body spray. But to Dan, it was more than that, and it was oddly comforting. They hadn’t even spent a whole day together and yet; Dan felt like he was already obsessed with Phil’s scent. It felt like home.

“You know what,” Dan said instead, supporting his chin with one hand. His fingers traced the fabric. “At least I can tell everyone that I slept in Phil Lester’s bed.”

“Very funny,” Phil gave him a look, then turned back on his chair. “Hey, what about Kill Bill?”

“Hmm, no, this is more fun,” Dan murmured, his lips forming a tight smile. “I bet that you washed them so I couldn’t find any evidence of some unholy activities that took place in this bed.”

Dan could feel Phil’s penetrating stare.

“Unholy?” he asked in surprise. Dan couldn’t help but laugh.

He grew nervous at his sudden boldness. However, at the same time, he was so intrigued that he just had to pursue further. “That’s right. I bet you bring all sorts of dates in here.” Phil gave this sentiment a minute to think. Then he stood up and laid next to Dan, putting his laptop aside.

“Hmm… No, not to this bed, at least.”

“Oh.” His eyes grew wide, a strange feeling pooling at the bottom of his stomach. Is he taken? Phil didn’t appear to be particularly uncomfortable with this conversation, just lost in his thoughts. In the end, over Skype, they used to discuss all sorts of topics, but Phil always omitted his relationships, if he even had any.

“So… you hooked up with people before?” Dan raised an eyebrow, curiosity taking the best of him. This is okay, right? Guys always discuss their sexapades with other guys. Well, Dan had no idea, since the number of guy friends he had ever had just recently increased from zero to one, and that guy friend was lying next to him right now, in this bed. Now, Dan had his reasons why he decided not to address any of Phil’s potential partners by their gender.

He seemed to be thinking again, but his gaze shifted to the side as if already done with this conversation. “A few times.”

“A few times? Phil, you animal,” he teased.

“Dan.” Phil seemed embarrassed. So, so embarrassed, and Dan found it cute. He grabbed a pillow and buried his face in it, turning to his side. In this motion, he unintentionally cuddled up to Dan, as he bumped into his shoulder with his forehead. Dan felt shivers run down his spine.

Still in this state of shyness, Phil babbled into the pillow: “Enough about me. How is your girlfriend?”

Oh. Well, Dan for sure didn’t want the conversation to head in this direction. He turned around, now staring at the ceiling.

“To tell you the truth,” Dan scratched his head, “she dumped me over a text. Dunno why. It was out of the blue. Said it was ‘a her problem’, not me.”

Now, that was not exactly the truth – he knew damn well why. But he was not ready to discuss this with Phil, not yet at least. As he slowly put the pillow away, he met with Phil’s piercing gaze. His expression could be described only as being in a state of surprise. Phil pushed himself up on his elbow, looking directly at him, voice serious.

“Dan, I had no idea,” he said, sensing genuine hurt in his tone. Dan’s heart quivered. “I’m really sorry. Are you okay?”

Oh, fuck, Dan thought in his head. Phil appeared to be more upset than he was. He immediately turned to face him in the bed.

“Oh, no, no,” he said, apologetically, waving his hand. He gave Phil a reassuring smile. “I wasn’t in love, Phil. It’s okay.” It was hardly a relationship, he thought. If awkward teeth bumping in the back of her car on two or three different occasions even counts as a relationship.

“When did it happen?” Phil appeared to be still concerned, but partly relieved, his head falling back.

“Er.” Dan didn’t really feel like discussing his not-really-breakup with a girl who was not-really-his-girlfriend in the first place. Not because it made him upset or anything. Yes, it bummed him when he first received the text, but the reasoning was different; she was quite cool and with a great taste in music too, and Dan enjoyed talking to her sometimes. Not making out though. Or dating. Besides, except for Phil, he had nobody else to talk to. He caught himself gaping at Phil’s lips, causing him to lose himself in his thoughts.

“A week ago?” he gave a rough guess.

“Damn,” was what he said. “Bummer.”

Then, complete silence surrounded them, and for a moment, Dan forgot how to breathe, partly relieved that the girlfriend talk was over. This was different from those comfortable silences that they had experienced before since he felt out of place by having Phil so close to his body. I need to ask; I need to ask. But how do I ask him such a question without being weird?

Dan’s own heart sped up when he gathered enough courage. Now Phil’s eyes were closed, but he didn’t appear to be sleeping, either. Their foreheads were nearly touching.

“Um. Can I ask you something?” he said softly, just to be extra sure that he hadn’t fallen asleep. They were surrounded by complete darkness, the only light source coming from Phil’s laptop. He tightly grabbed the blanket spread out between them, taking a deep breath. By the way, do you happen to be gay? Hey, Phillip! By any chance, do you fancy guys? If yes, fine with me. If not, no worries, just asking. Forget it.

“Hm?” Phil hummed, keeping his eyes closed. He chuckled but it didn’t sound genuine at all. “Wanna ask me if I’m gay or something?”

Dan froze, not moving an inch. He felt his cheeks starting to burn. Maybe his heart skipped a beat, too.

After some silence, Phil sighed, and nearly whispered, his voice broken: “Dan…”

He started to panic.

“Phil. Please look at me,” he pleaded, shuffling closer.

Phil hesitantly did so.

“I don’t mind if you are. I also don’t mind if you are not. You are the only best friend I’ve ever had.”

“I was so scared, Dan,” he whispered into the pillow. “I was scared that you wouldn’t talk to me anymore if you knew…”

He is, the realization hit him.

“Oh, Phil,” Dan sighed. “Why would you think that?”

Phil hesitated again. “Not a lot of straight guys would want to hang out with a gay guy.”

His heart immediately sank. He pressed their foreheads together and closed his eyes.

“Nothing would make me stop talking to you. Ever.”

Phil seemed to relax after this. He smiled softly.

“I’m so glad,” he whispered.

But something still bothered Dan. He was glad that they were covered mostly by darkness.

“Sometimes, I just wonder…,” he swallowed, not sure if he should continue. “How it… feels like.”

“What do you mean, exactly?” Phil whispered.

Dan didn’t respond and bit his lip. Silence surrounded them yet again, interrupted only by their heavy breathing. Without thinking, Dan slowly raised his shaking hands to Phil’s cheeks and cupped them. They were burning just like his.

He might as well go insane. When he felt Phil’s hot breath on his lips, he slowly parted them, finally whispering the question.

“Can I…just…?” Dan asked with a quivering voice.

Phil swallowed heavily and nodded.

Dan didn’t hesitate. Still holding Phil’s burning cheeks, he closed the small distance that separated them.

When Dan connected their lips for the first time, Phil didn’t move an inch, keeping his eyes open in a complete state of shock, like a deer caught in the headlights. Hell, he might have stopped breathing at this point. Dan played with his slack, slightly parted lips, as Phil laid there completely still, placing a butterfly kiss on his top lip first, then the bottom. As his lips explored and toyed with something that he had never experienced before, Dan’s fingers traced Phil’s cheekbone until he reached a loose strand of his black hair, gently tucking it behind his ear. Grabbing the back of his head, Dan pressed their lips together into one, firm kiss. He felt Phil sigh in relief, eyes closing as he slowly melted into the touch. For a minute, they stayed like this, trapped in their own little world, here, on Phil’s bed. Dan felt dizzy, his head spinning. I’m in a dream, he thought. This was so much different from any sort of kiss that he had experienced with his not-so-girlfriend. She tasted like cherry lip gloss, but Phil, Phil. Phil was so delicate and tasted like heaven.

Noticing Phil’s still apparent stiffness as he only reciprocated the soft kisses he had been given, Dan separated their lips with a wet sound.

“Phil,” he whispered, stroking his cheek with a thumb. Phil looked at him with glossy eyes, both arms tucked by his side, bewildered, not knowing what to do. “You can touch me, too.”

But Phil still didn’t move, as if afraid that Dan might somehow fall apart if he touched him just ever so slightly. Dan figured that the best thing he could do at this moment was to guide him, so he slowly reached for his wrist, gently placing it on the small of his back. He felt Phil’s fingers digging into the fabric of his t-shirt as if gathering the courage that he needed. When Dan least expected it, Phil snuck his entire arm around Dan, pulling him as close as one could be in one, swift move, not leaving an inch of space between their burning bodies. This time, Phil brought his lips to Dan’s. The kiss deepened. Dan pulled on Phil’s bottom lip as if to ask for permission. His lips parted in response, sticking the tip of his tongue out, and Dan eagerly licked into his hot mouth, sighing in bliss. Feeling Phil’s arms wrapping tightly around him on each side, he flipped Dan on top of his body, separating the kiss only for a second. In complete surprise, Dan kicked Phil’s laptop off the bed.

“Shit!” Dan swore, breaking the embrace. Phil’s laptop landed on the mattress.

“Fuck, Dan,” Phil moaned, not caring one bit. “You are so good at this.”

Dan didn’t answer, and knowing that Phil’s laptop was likely fine, he eagerly connected their lips once again. Now having Dan on top, Phil’s grip on him only strengthened. Ensured that Dan was enjoying this as much as he was, his hands slowly slid down his back and cupped his bum with both hands. He squeezed, hard.

Dan couldn’t help but grunt into the kiss, and it was the sweetest sound that Phil had ever heard. He would do anything just to make him moan more. He firmly squeezed his bum again, grinding into him. Instead, Dan separated the kiss and pressed his head in the crook of Phil’s neck. Dan’s breathing got hot and heavy, and his body suddenly went limp in Phil’s arms. He was seeing stars.

“Phil,” he moaned again, his name never sounding more beautiful. He pressed their foreheads together. “Phil.”

“Dan,” he said, as to reassure him that he was still there with him. He grabbed his cheeks, feeling the sticky cold sweat that began to form on his skin. After a few seconds of being fixed in this position, Dan seemed to calm down.

“I need to,” he said, as if still trying to catch his breath, “I need to take a shower.”

“Okay, okay,” Phil babbled. “Let’s get you there.”

Dan got off him, ignoring the wobbliness of his legs, and helped him stand up by grabbing his hand. Never letting go, Phil first blindly searched for any source of light, preferably a lamp, knocking some books from his bedside table in the process. When he successfully turned the light on, he followed his lead, until Dan made a sharp turn in the hallway.

“Wha-?”

Phil felt the sudden coldness of a wall that he found himself pinned at, interrupted by yet another passionate kiss and a hot body flushed against his. When Dan let go, he looked him in the eyes.

“Phil, I think I’m going mad,” Dan panted. It was true; now that he knew what he tasted like, he couldn’t stop. Phil released the most beautiful heartwarming laugh ever and brought Dan’s lips to his once again. They found themselves to be gradually sliding down the wall where Phil was pressed, until he couldn’t stand it anymore and ended up pinning Dan down to the floor, kissing him right there and there. They couldn’t even make it to the next room.

“Dan!” Phil gasped as if he had just remembered something important, forming a string of saliva between them. “I need to tell you something.”

“What is it?” he looked up at him with glossy eyes.

“I was lying when I told you I hooked up with people before. I haven’t hooked up with anyone. I made out with a guy once at a party because it was a bet, and then immediately after that he brushed his teeth and made me brush mine too.”

A bubbly laugh escaped his lips, raising an eyebrow. “Is that so?”

He nodded softly. Dan reached for his hand and intertwined their fingers together. He put their hands on top of his chest.

“If that is the case,” he said, stroking his hand with a thumb. “I haven’t done anything with my ex-girlfriend either. Hell, she was not even a real girlfriend in the first place. Tried to pat me through the jeans once. Didn’t work out. If you know what I mean…”

“Yeah,” Phil smiled, bringing his lips close to Dan’s ear. “Now, where were we?”

Locking Dan’s hips by his knees, he made a trail of kisses down his neck.

“Phil,” he moaned again in desperation.

Phil’s lips lingered softly over Dan’s parted lips. “God, you are so hot.”

Then, he lowered himself down to suck at Dan’s collarbone. By the time he figured that he had decorated Dan’s skin with a pretty bruise, he felt a firm grasp on both of his shoulders. Dan gasped, and when he looked down at him again, his gaze was hazy.

“Phil,” he purred. “The shower…”

Somehow, just now it clicked in Phil’s head.

“Dan… Did you come?” he teased.

Dan, totally defeated at this point, covered his face, growing red as a tomato.

“Twice…now,” he moaned in despair. Death would be more merciful than this.

Phil giggled at Dan’s embarrassment. Then, he offered him his helping hand to get him back on his legs. He led him to the bathroom and gave him a fresh towel to use. Now leaning onto the doorway, he watched as Dan took off his sweaty t-shirt and threw it on the ground. When he noticed Phil’s hungry eyes, he giggled and walked towards him. Dan placed a kiss on his jawline first, and when Phil closed his eyes and yet again leaned in to capture Dan’s lips in his own, he stopped him by putting his hands on his chest, showing him back in the hallway. Then, he closed the door in Phil’s face, laughing.

What a tease.

“Unfair,” complained Phil behind the door, to his amusement.

Dan stepped out of his messy boxers and turned the shower on. For good fifteen minutes or so, he stood there under hot water with his forehead resting on the wall, contemplating whether he should rub one out or not. In the end, he decided not to and turned the temperature from boiling to freezing.

When he was done, he put his pyjama pants back on and joined Phil in the bedroom. He was sitting on the bed, also shirtless, listening to music on his phone. When he noticed Dan’s presence, he pulled his headphones out and smiled.

Dan’s cheeks warmed up, pointing to the wet curls that begun to form around his face. “My hair does that. I need to straighten it in the morning.”

“I like it,” Phil said. “It suits you.”

Still red, he stood there, not really knowing what to do next. He made a step towards his backpack and disposed of his dirty underwear somewhere. Phil’s gaze on him was undeniable, as he shuffled in his direction on the bed. Dan made another hesitant step forward.

Phil reached out his hand, opening his palm.

“Dan,” he whispered. “Come here.”

So, he did. He immediately climbed on Phil’s lap and embraced him, hard.

“You smell amazing,” Dan said to the crook of Phil’s neck, growing hot and bothered. The cold shower was completely useless, as Dan felt himself growing hard again.

“Is that so?” he asked softly, stroking his messy wet curls.

“Mmm,” he purred into his naked skin. “Phil. I need to get off of you unless you want me to dry hump you the whole night.”

Phil giggled in response. “Yeah? What if I do?”

Dan pressed his lips to Phil’s cheek, as his heartbeat sped up rapidly. He fought with every ounce in his body to not pin Phil to the bed again.

Phil leaned into the touch, closing his eyes. His hands began wandering, sliding down his back and eventually cupping Dan’s bum again.

Alarm bells started ringing in Dan’s ears.

“I’m sleepy,” he babbled, panicking. He was, in fact, not sleepy. “Let’s go to sleep.”

And just like that, he was gone from Phil’s lap. Dan slipped under the duvet on that godforsaken mattress. It was as comfortable as a pile of rocks.

“Dan!” Phil looked at him from the bed. “Come up here. I’m not letting you sleep on the floor.”

“I’m a guest in this house and it is my wish to sleep here,” he said stubbornly, his entire head covered by the duvet. “Goodnight, Phil.”

Phil smirked, reaching out to turn the light off. “Goodnight, Dan. Sleep well.”

[a-heart-like-a-sparrow]

April 29th, 2024 - Chains

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My new necklaces are actually very thin chains with shiny charms. The one with the dice was tangled in my jewelry box, I don't know why. But a friend fixed it for me.

I had my English exam today. It was pretty easy. I shared my macaroons with my classmates and even my Law teacher. It was a great time.

It was so rainy today. My mother drive me to school but I had to run like an idiot to get to the entrance. Somehoe I barely got wet.

I slept for like two hours when I came home. I haven't done a single thing from my Economy homework. I'm sure it won't be too difficult tho... I guess.

I'm dying to read "The Picture of Dorian Gray" but I can't. I sleep, do homework, or eat, but never read. I'm such a fool.

I've been thinking that I should change my Instagram account already, follow all the people I actually see on my profile, and pray that my classmates don't find it.

I should block them all, honestly. Except for my friends. But I'm too lazy to do all that. But I'll do it someday.

Aaaaaaaaaa I'm tired. I really wanna go to sleep but I have to finish that goddamn homework. I cannot avoid it anymore. Well, I actually can procrastinate until tomorrow in the morning. I don't know.

I'll watch some TV and go to my room. Rest well.

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PS: Okay I don't understand. I saw a picture of him at a party a few minutes ago. He looked... quite ugly, I'm gonna be honest here. I don't know if it was the lighting, the whole vibe, or if he's just horrific and I don't see it. I swear he looks better in real life. I have to admit, sometimes I think, "how on God's sacred Earth could I think that way?", and then I say, "oh my god, he's actually very handsome". I have some... peculiar taste.

That motherfucker never smiles for photos, apparently. I guess that's the proble. Come on, dude. Smile. I like it.

[ardentandco]

God I’m tired

I just learned that I had a thing to do for tomorrow 8am that I completely forgot. And I have a project with a deadline tomorrow 4pm and I haven’t quite finished. And I have two essays for next week that I haven’t started. And more essays and homework and exercices and tests and exams and shit for the following weeks.

And I don’t have time because this weekend and next Thursday I’m helping prepare my step-grandpa’s funeral. And I’ve been ignoring my emotions for the last week on the matter.

And I’m pretty sure I messed up my ribs in some way because they fucking hurt.

And I’m fucking goddamn tired