#see its all thanks to the procrastination (taps head)

[satsuha]

recent doodling

[minhosimthings]

Backstage Notoriety

Synopsis: Chan trying to shush you, as you try not to alert the rest of the boys about what you're doing backstage

Pairings: Bang Chan × Soloist!fem!reader

Warnings: SMUT MINORS DNI, fingering, overstimulation, Degradation (like only a little), praise, gagging kink, necklace is used as a gag, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it), pregnancy joke, angry sex, rough sex

A/N: ITS YO GIRL MONA BACK WITH ANOTHER SMUT YALL WOOOHOOOOO I really like this for some reason I had fun writing it. Also Chan has got me in a chokehold rn I NEED THIS MAN TO BREED ME. And yes this is me procrastinating on my ongoing wip.

Dating a fellow idol was something you never thought you'd do in your entire life but here you were. Staring at your boyfriend dancing with the rest of his kids members and watching all his Stays with bedroom eyes. To say you were jealous was an understatement. A very great understatement, that is.

Being a soloist was a lonely job, with the one exception being that you didn't need to follow a packed schedule like other groups did. You could just sit back after your stage, and stare at everyone's outfits backstage, as you wait for your boyfriend to take you home and fuck you into oblivion. Yet as you watched your boyfriend show off his waist in a crop top your favourite colour, you couldn't help but want him to notice you. Stupid horny teenager coded feelings right?

"Haneul how much time till they finish?" You asked your manager who was packing up your things. She looked over at you and smiled. "Just another minute or so Y/N be patient you'll see him soon enough." She bent down and kissed your head "I'm going home alright? Tell Minho where I went or he'll go crazy. You'll come with Chan or should I tell a car to wait?" You shook your head at her. "I'll come with him don't worry. You should worry about Minho though he's gonna go mental when he finds out you left without him." Haneul let out a laugh and patted your shoulder before quickly walking out the door, leaving you all alone.

The sound of thunderous applause startled you, as you saw your boyfriend quickly walking down the stage, seven kids following him like penguins. The first one to enter the room was your boyfriend, suprisingly not covered in sweat and fashioning a towel round his neck. His face was not without happiness as he caught his eye on you and strode over, making adorable grabby hands.

"Baby!" he hugged you tightly, as you did everything in your power to stay mad at him, "Next time I'll make sure they arrange our shows right after one another. I can't stand not being with you for so long." "hmm" you hummed in response, not reciprocating the hug as you usually did. The rest of the members had entered the room by then and you spotted Minho frantically searching for his phone. "Haneul went home Minho." you cried at him, successfully catching his attention as he looked at you with widened eyes, "Don't worry, she's probably waiting for you."

"Oh alright." Minho said, plopping down onto the sofa, "Thanks for the message." You smiled gently at him, and turned to pick up your phone, when warm arms wrapped around your waist, making you freeze in your spot. The offer to sink into Chan's embrace was a tempting one, one that would effectively ruin your plan. "Did I do something wrong baby?" you heard Chan's voice whisper in your ear, tone akin to one he'd use for a child. You were being childish after all.

"Just tired Chan. I need to get home alright?", you briefly responded, wiggling away from his embrace. "I'll drop you off to the car." Chan responded, wrapping an arm around your waist so tightly that you couldn't protest, "I left something in my dressing room anyway so we can just get that on the way hm?" His tone worried you slightly. It was unlike the lovey-dovey one he usually used with you. Lovey? yes. Dovey? Definitely not.

The silence between you and Chan was too loud as both of you walked to Chan's dressing room, which was relatively near the exit point. His stare remained in front of him, not even a glance at you. You, on the other head, were trapped in his hold on your waist. It was tight. Too tight. The Pain kink comes in handy though right?.

"You really thought ignoring me would do anything baby?" Chan suddenly spoke up, when you reached the door to his dressing room. You shuddered as he pushed you against the door, one hand on the doorknob, the other holding your chin to him. "Chan-" "Nuh uh baby." He glared, "You're gonna pay for this."

Chan bombarded your lips with his and kissed you with every inch of pain in him. You would have melted into the kiss had it not been for Chan opening the doorknob and pushing you in.

"Wearing this cute little outfit and ignoring me." Chan mumbled in between the messy kiss, "Stupid little girl aren't you?" You gasped for air as Chan slid his fingers down your panties. You decided to give your stylist a bag of chocolates the next day, for giving you such an accessible dress.

"Ah Chan!" You shout out as Chan moves his fingers around your pussy, touching you exactly at all the spots he knew you adored. Chan slowly pulled off your underwear and threw it on the floor before pulling you into another kiss, fingers still racing across your cunt. His other hand reached up almost automatically to your hair, gripping it hard. You moaned into the kiss at his touch on your scalp as your hands quickly undid his trousers.

He’s rough. Good god, he’s fucking rough. His cock stretches you open deliciously, slamming into the deepest parts of you. The slick sounds of your dripping arousal fill the room with every violent thrust. You were sure your already short dress was about to get shorter as Chan kept such a firm grip on them, feeling the fabric twisting in between his fingers. With Chan continuing to fuck you, It’s almost impossible to keep yourself quiet at a time like this.

“J-Jesus,” you gasp, “holy fuck, Channie, y-you, fuck, you feel so fucking hot.” Your voice wavers in pitch and volume. Chan maintains a brutal pace, which you could swear he does on purpose. He lets out a gruff chuckle.

"It's Channie now is it baby?" He mocks you, "Fucking you so good you can't even speak can you?"

You let out a loud yelp when you feel his hand give your ass a hard slap. You jerk forward, shuddering on his cock. You can feel his towering frame lean over you, pulling you up by the shoulders, gathering you to his chest. He puts his fingers in your mouth, silencing your cries of lust.

You suck on his fingers, moans bubbling in your throat as Chan pistons his hips. It’s almost embarrassing how much you like the feeling of Chan using you like his personal doll.

“Babe,” Chan slows down. “As much as I love hearing what I do to you…” he gently maneuvers you, flipping you to look into your eyes. His hand tucks a piece of hair the fell onto your face behind your ear. His hand cups your cheek, the sweetness of his actions causes your mind to run wild with what kind of degenerate, devious plans he has in store for you. He reaches over to his neck and slowly unclasped the metal chain decorating it ever so wonderfully. "You're way too loud darling.”

"Open your mouth for me darling." He cooes at you as he shoves the necklace into your mouth. You wince in pain as the cold metal hits your tongue. Chan stares at you with an amused look on his face. "That's my good girl." He praises, giving a sudden thrust, which makes you widen your eyes.

You make a muffled cry for more, your soft and loud moans were music to his ears. He breathed heavily along with you as held onto your hips tightly. Skin smacking echoed in the room and you heard his soft groan which sent you coming. He groans louder as you clench around him.

Thankfully, Chan didn’t argue or get you to beg for his cock any more as he jolted his hips into you. “Always so loud aren't you darling?”, he scolded light-heartedly under his breath.

“Cha- Channie no more,” you plead with the necklace muffling your tone, tossing your head back onto the wall, hips bucking up into his despite your words. Chan growls, pushing you down by your stomach and blanketing your body with his own and pressing your knees almost up to your tits.

“You can take it, my dove, I promise,” the words come out choked, hoarse, but you wither under them nonetheless. The necklace had been laying down on the floor, having been detached from your mouth a long time ago. You can feel his cock pulsing deep inside your walls, seed almost spilling out from your entrance from his last two orgasms. You’re sure he’s overstimulated beyond belief, just like you, but he just can’t seem to stop.

“Wait, don’t cum yet; I’m so close, don’t cum”, you begged , not entirely wanting it to end just yet. Chan gasped, his mouth opening wide as his eyes did the opposite as they clenched shut as he concentrated on fucking you and not having another orgasm.

It doesn’t take long to feel the first flutterings of that eye-wateringly beautiful sensation between your legs as you quickly stammer, “I’m cumming! Fuck!”. Chan’s legs nearly gave out underneath him, hearing your sweet words.

As your pussy contracted in wet bursts around him, Chan released every drop of cum inside of his body, deep into your walls so that you could feel yourself becoming full and it beginning to drip out as it became too much. His thrusts slowed to a stop as you both slumped against the wall, bodies covered in a thin line of sweat.

"You alright honey?" He mumbled into your neck as he holds you tightly in his arms. "I'm good." You simply respond, cradling in Chan's warm muscles. Chan quickly deposits your weak figure on the divan before rushing off to find a towel and a change of clothes.

"I'm sorry Channie." You mumble, feeling your face turn red as Chan puts your shoes back on. He looks up at you with an amused expression and hums. "It's alright darling." He chuckles, "My jealous little baby." You slap his arm playfully as he gets you up slowly and walks you to the door, this time the grip on your waist being a comforting one.

"I wonder if your cum took or not." You blurt out. Chan looks at you with widened eyes before giggling. "You wouldn't really have to get used to being called mom do you? What with your seven adopted kids." "Our seven adopted kids." You correct him as he blushes and kisses you on the forehead.

"Seven kids who are probably wondering what their mom and dad have been doing backstage."

[dilemmaontwolegs]

mechanic!neighbor!Steve helps you when your car breaks down and is either fluffy or smutty but definetely flirting!!!

Damn, another fictional man I didn't know I needed in my life until now. Well he might make a reappearance one day 🥵

The Mechanic Next Door || Steve Rogers

Warnings: 18+ only, smut, fingering, Steve’s muscles 🤤 WC: 2588

|| Main Masterlist || Steve's Masterlist ||

“Today is not going to be that day.” You grumbled as your fingers pinched the key and turned it, only hearing the incessant ticking of it attempting to splutter to life and subsequently failing. “Come on baby, don’t do this to me.”

Your poor car had been on its last legs for the better part of the year and it seemed it was going to be that day, the day she died. You hung your head as you gave up trying, pulling the handbrake and taking the key out. You didn’t even notice the shadow crossing your window until a fist of greasy knuckles tapped against the window. A sharp scream escaped your lungs before you could stop it but the neighbourhood wasn’t exactly the safest and the man outside was a solid wall of ripped muscle.

“Didn’t mean to frighten you.” He said loud enough for you to hear through the glass as he stepped back with his hands up, a rag hanging from his shoulder and his bare chest glistening with sweat. “I just moved in across the street, I heard your car flooding.”

You unlocked the car door and stepped out, his eyes quickly glancing at the length of your leg as you did and you leant against the door after closing it. “Welcome to the neighbourhood.”

“Thanks,” he smiled as he pulled the rag off his shoulder and wiped his hands before holding one out, “I’m Steve.”

“Y/n.” You felt your pulse spike as your hands touched, the feel of the calluses on his palms tickling you. “You said something about flooding? I haven’t driven it through water.”

His lips tipped up and his hair mussed about his head as he shook it. “It’s when too much fuel gets in your engine. I see it all the time, I could fix it now if you want?”

You chewed your lip as you bounced the keys against your leg nervously. “Does it cost a lot? It’s just that this week has really not gone to plan. First my shower broke and now this.”

“Don’t worry about it.” He smiled. “It’s just one neighbour helping another.”

As much as you were grateful for his kind offer, you weren’t one to take handouts so you shook your head. “The least I can do is make you dinner, and your wife?”

“I don’t have a wife.” He said as his eyes drifted over you once again and you could feel your core tightening under the appreciative gaze.

“Even better.” You grinned and held the keys up. “I guess you’ll need these.”

He stepped closer and his broad chest filled your vision, the scent of oil and man filling your lungs as you breathed in deeply. One hand took the keys from your fingers as the other brushed your hip and your pussy throbbed with the need to be touched. Disappointment flooded you as you heard the click of the car door and realised his hand wasn’t reaching for you but the handle.

“Sorry.” You muttered as your neck burned with embarrassment and you shuffled to the side. “I’ll get out of your way.”

His muscles bulged as he opened the door with more flourish than necessary but it had the desired effect as your lips parted with a sigh and his eyes noticed it all. Resting his elbow across the roof of your car, he toyed with your keys and smirked. “I kinda liked you right where you were.”

“I can’t make you dinner if you can’t fix my car.” You reminded him as your eyes followed a bead of sweat that slowly rolled down his chest, teasing you as it made its way through the dips in his six pack until it was absorbed by the cotton waistband of his Calvin Kleins that peeked out from beneath his shorts.

“Maybe I should keep you with me, you’re one hell of a motivator.” He teased before getting into your car, his huge mass looking even bigger in the tiny hatchback.

“I’m usually all for procrastinating but I made a promise to cook a handsome stranger dinner before I remembered I haven’t gone grocery shopping.” You admitted, his laugh filling the small car before he turned the key and it spluttered to life. “Seriously! How the fuc-hell did you do that?”

You stepped out of the way so he could get out and his face passed by within kissing distance as he rose to his full height. “Trade secret, and, if I tell you I wouldn’t be able to show up and save the day.”

“Wow,” you laughed alone with him, “what a hero.”

“I do my best.” He chuckled. “When you start it, press your gas pedal to the floor and just keep that key turned forward. Easy.”

“You really got the better end of the deal.” You laughed but you knew if you had called for a mobile mechanic or a tow truck it would have easily cost $100+, so you got off lightly too. “I hope you like pizza and a juice box.”

“I’ll have anything as long as it's with you.” He said as he took your hand and placed the keys back in them. “What time do you want me?”

“Now.” You admitted before you mentally slapped yourself. Something about this man had unlocked a feral need within you and you were not usually this bold. “I mean 7pm?”

“If I didn’t have a shift at work I would hold you to that one, gorgeous.” He purred quietly in your ear as if there were nosy neighbours listening in. “I’ll see you at 7.”

You couldn’t breath until he was almost halfway across the road and heading into the garage that was open, a sexy mustang parked inside with its hood up. You watched as he tossed the rag aside and bent over the engine, still able to see the defined lines of his back muscles from across the street. His head turned your way and you caught the wink he threw when he saw you were still eyeing him up, another flush of heat rising up your neck before you jumped into your car and headed to the supermarket.

Your doorbell rang at 7 on the dot and you turned the oven off, checking your dress was sitting just right before you opened the door. Your lips pouted as you saw he was wearing a shirt but the grey cotton did nothing to disguise the muscles just below the surface.

“I got you these,” he said as he held up a bunch of flowers, “I don’t know what they are. They were from the old man’s place over there.”

You looked where he pointed and stifled a laugh as you took the flowers and hid them behind the door with a grin. “Mr Gerard might just shoot you if he catches you doing that.”

He blinded you with a wide grin in return and stepped over the threshold. “It made you smile so I’d say it’s worth the risk.”

He looked around your modest home as you led him to the kitchen and filled a vase with water for the bouquet, already enjoying the way it brightened up your otherwise dull kitchen.

“Do you want something to drink?” You offered as you opened the fridge and grabbed two bottles from the chiller. “I wasn’t sure what you liked but I totally assumed beer, was that bad of me?”

“Horrible.” He confirmed as he took the IPA with a smirk, twisting the top off with ease before trading with you. “I should probably let you know now, I’m vegan.”

Your eyes widened as you looked at the oven, the inside light showing the roast that had been cooked perfectly, Steve’s laugh breaking through the serious facade he had tried to compose. Your hand pressed to his pec to give him a small push that barely moved him, and you felt just how hard the muscle was as your hand lingered on his chest. “You were so nice this morning, what happened to that guy?”

“He spent all day thinking about the beautiful lady he was seeing tonight and it left him very, very frustrated.” One hand covered yours and the other caught your waist pulling you closer. “All. Day.”

“It made the day drag out.” You commiserated as you tipped your head back to connect with his grey/blue eyes. “I thought it would never end."

His face was so close you could see your wide eyes reflecting in his and your lips parted as your heart began to race in anticipation. Your eyes fluttered shut as his lips connected with yours, his kiss softer than you had imagined it would be but it was just a test. Your hands moved up his chest to drape around his neck and his own pulled you flush against his body as his tongue caressed yours.

“I hope you haven't met all the neighbours like this.” You panted as you pulled away breathless and he chuckled as his thumbs drew circles over your hips.

“Only the pretty ones.” He murmured as he kissed the corner of your mouth before seeing the look of concern on your face and he chuckled. “Of which there is only one.”

His hands gripped your hips tighter and his arms bulged as he lifted you onto the benchtop and nudged your legs aside. “Is this alright?”

“Mhmm…” You nodded as you felt a bulge of a very different muscle straining against his jeans, your pussy wet at the thought. “God yes.”

Your moan was more than enough to drive him wild and his hands brushed up your tight, bunching up the hem of your dress as his eyes drank in the sight of your bare skin. Your hands were eager for the same, pulling at his shirt until he raised his arms and you could pull it over his head, dropping it to the floor so your hands were free to roam his body. His abs contracted with every breath and your nails lightly grazed them, sending a shudder up his body before he crushed his lips against yours. His fingers brushed over the lace of your panties and you trembled as his slow teasing left you needing more.

“Steve…please…” You begged as your head tipped back and your hips pushed forward.

“Tell me what you need, gorgeous.” He ordered as he pulled his hand away the more you tried to chase it.

“Your fingers, inside me.” He bit his bottom lip with a moan as your palm rubbed over his jeans and felt his cock rock hard needing freedom.

Your fingers worked to unbutton his jeans while his fingers brushed your panties aside and felt just how ready you were for him. He eased two fingers in and pressed the ball of his palm to your clit, rolling his wrists and earning a moan as you rode his fingers.

“Christ.” He groaned as he felt your liquid escaping around his fingers and watched it run down his hand. “Look at that, so fucking beautiful.”

His words were lost with a moan as you pushed his jeans over his hips and found him commando, his huge cock springing free and smacking him on the stomach. You weren’t sure you were going to be able to take him as you watched a bead of precum pool at the tip and roll down his veiny length but you would certainly try.

“Do you have a condom?” You asked as you began to stroke him, gripping him tight and pumping the length of him in time to his hand pleasuring you.

“You don't?” He asked curiously since most people had at least one lying around somewhere.

“I do, but not ones that would fit you.” You admitted and watched the proud smile grow on his face.

He pulled his hand away and you missed the feel of him instantly as he bent down to his jeans and grabbed a packet from his pocket. “I wasn’t being presumptuous, just prepared.”

“Well, I’m glad you were.”

If you thought you were frustrated all day you couldn’t imagine how bad it would have been to get this far and then have to stop. Thankfully, he had thought ahead and he tore the packet open before rolling the sheath down his cock. You widened your legs as much as you could as he stepped back between them and brushed his head up and down your slit, spreading your natural lubricant before he began to ease himself into you.

“Oh, god.” You moaned as just his tip broke through and you could already feel your cunt stretching around him.

Steve’s eyes fluttered shut as he fought against the urge to bury himself inside you in one thrust but he could feel how tight you were and didn’t want to hurt you. Instead he slowly rocked his hips, a little more of him inching inside with each thrust, your sweet moans filling his ears as you wrapped your arms around his shoulder and dug your nails into his back.

Steve’s eyes fluttered shut as he fought against the urge to bury himself inside you in one thrust but he could feel how tight you were and didn’t want to hurt you. Instead, he slowly rocked his hips, a little more of him inching inside with each thrust and your sweet moans filled his ears as you wrapped your arms around his shoulder and dug your nails into his back. Your lips pressed to his neck as you buried your face against him and let your body accustom to his size, the bump against your cervix an unfamiliar feeling of pleasurable pain.

“You’re taking me so well, gorgeous.” He praised as he dragged you right to the edge of the bench and you wrapped your legs around his hips, pulling him deeper inside you.

His deep moan was hoarse as you threatened to draw blood the way your nails were raking his back but it spurred him on, hips thrusting faster, his pubic bone hitting your clit as the sound of your bodies slapping filled the kitchen as loud as your whimpers. Your cries were growing as your orgasm loomed over you and you didn’t want the entire neighbourhood to hear you so you latched onto the closest thing, your teeth capturing the thick muscle stretching across his neck and shoulder between them.

“Holy shit.” Steve moaned as he felt your scream being muffled by his skin and your core clenched tight around him. “You feel so fucking amazing.”

“Oh, Steve, I’m, I’m gonna-” Your legs began to tremble and your jaw fell slack as your orgasm crashed over you, your pussy clamping down until he couldn’t move.

“Fuck.” He shuddered as he spilled himself into the condom, his entire body shaking with the intensity of his release and he sagged in your arms, head on your shoulder.

“That was amazing.” You sighed as small pulsing still radiated through your body and he hummed an agreement as he pulled out and you pointed to the waste bin in the corner.

“We should clean up before dinner.” He chuckled and you bit your lip nervously.

“I still haven’t had the shower fixed, it's only running cold.”

“How about we make this a takeaway and shoot over to mine?” He offered. “Have a hot shower, nice dinner, and tomorrow I’ll see if I can fix your shower.”

“Deal.” You slipped off the counter and rose to your tip toes so you could kiss him. “You know this’ll mean I’ll owe you dinner tomorrow night too.”

“Oh, I’m counting on it.” He smirked as he pulled his jeans up. “I really like the entree.”

You laughed as his hands cupped your cheeks and he pulled you into another heated kiss that left you wanting him all over again. “Just wait until you get your dessert.”

[chaeryybomb]

BRUTAL

pairings: female reader x best friend!jungwon

summary: they told you that these were the golden years, but to you "golden" was a rusting metal spray painted yellow. the story of a seventeen year old trying to survive high school when all you do is try your best. but your best friend jungwon makes it worth the while. 

genre: high school au, friends to lovers, fluff, tiny bits of angst if you squint, attempt at humour

featuring: jang wonyoung, kim sunoo & nishimura riki 

word count: 4.5k 

warnings: reader having a existential crisis most of the time, strong language, mentions of insecurity

the sour series masterlist

You slumped forward the moment the bell rang, letting your head hit the table. You could care less if a bruise would form on your forehead, you had much bigger things to worry about. Your teacher left the class wordlessly as the class was busy doing their own thing. And by that, everyone was buried nose deep in studying. You lifted your head to see the different books of the same topic scattered on your desk, a yellow highlighter balancing on the edge of your table.

Reaching over to grab the highlighter, you turned your head over to the side to look at your desk mate. Wonyoung sat there looking straight out from a k-drama, with her hair flowing down her back perfectly and her slender nimble fingers moving as she continuously wrote in her notebook. She was smart too, fluent in English and Korean, great at maths and science. And on top of that she was kind and friendly, everyone loved her. You did too, you had the honour of calling her your best friend. But sometimes you felt insecure around her, everything she did looked flawless and there you were just trying your best.

"Ack!" You yelped as you sat up straight, holding your forehead. Wonyoung rolled her eyes at you with a small smile on her lips, she had flicked your forehead to get you out of your thoughts.

Without taking her eyes off the textbook, she tapped your own workbook with her pen. Silently telling you to stop procrastinating. You pouted at her and looked at the clock, 10 minutes before lunch. Maybe a walk to the girl's bathroom would do you some good.

"I'm gonna go to the bathroom," you whispered to Wonyoung. She nodded and smiled at you before you walked out.

As you strolled towards the girl's bathroom, you passed by the bulletin board outside your class. A bright blue poster stood out with the words "ENJOY YOUR YOUTH" in white. Scoffing at the message, you continued on your way.

"I'm seventeen now, where's my fucking teenage dream?" You muttered to yourself. You were tired of waiting for your life to end up like a coming of age movie. Everyone told you that these were the golden years and you should enjoy your youth, but you swear to god if you hear another one of those cheesy sayings, you might just cry on the spot.

Reaching over to open the stall door, you halt in your actions when you heard familiar voices talking.

"I'm so worried for finals, my parents are gonna kill me if I fail English again," a girl complained. You hear the sound of tap water running. "How are you so calm during this time, Mirae?'

"What's the use of studying hard anyways," the second girl, Mirae, said. "We all know the top spots are gonna be taken by Jang Wonyoung and Yang Jungwon, I just study enough to pass."

The other girl snorted at her reply. "Imagine if those two got together, the power couple of the year," she suddenly said.

"Poor Y/N then, she's gonna be over shadowed by them."

"As if she already isn't. I almost forgot they were a trio until you mentioned Y/N," the girl laughed.

"What can I say? They're out of her league," Mirae joined in with her laughter.

The two voices faded away as you heard the door closed. Finally pushing the door open, you looked at your reflection. Your eyebrows knitted in annoyance and your face was morphed in a scowl. You washed your hands aggressively and poked the inside of your cheek. What bugged you was that they were right. You were the black sheep between Wonyoung and Jungwon. Both of them were smart and amazing, and you're just…you.

You love your best friends, you truly do. But you were constantly compared to them and you hated it. Everyone wanted them, you watched as guys tripped over to confess to Wonyoung and girls squealing when Jungwon smiled at them. The two of them always reassured you that you weren't beneath them but you were sick of their sympathy. You're so caught up in the news of who likes you and who hates them. You just wished people liked you more.

Storming out of the bathroom, someone accidentally ran into you and caused you to fell onto your butt. The student immediately stood up and scurried off, not bothering to even a mutter an apology. All I did was try my best and this is the thanks I get, you thought bitterly.

They said that these were the golden years, but you wished you could just disappear. God, it's brutal out here.

"Y/N, wait up!" Jungwon called after you.

You stopped in your tracks as you watched Jungwon waved goodbye to some students before jogging towards you.

"You heading to cram school today?" He asked you as the both of you fell into the same walking rhythm.

You shook your head, clasping your hands behind. "I moved it to Thursday instead, Wonyoung said I had to many things on Tuesday," you told him. Originally, you would be heading to the library to study before heading over to the cram school. But Wonyoung took one look at your schedule and decided that you did not had enough breaks, so she managed to convince you to take the Thursday slot instead. Thursdays are one of the days where you would not go to the library.

Jungwon seemed to be disappointed to find out that you had switched slots. Maybe he should changed slots too, but does he have any empty spots open for Thursday though? He'd have to check later. Instead, he coughed and stuffed his hands into his pockets.

"Do you wanna come over later? The new Demon Slayer movie is out," he offered, hoping that you'd accept.

Unfortunately, you once again shook your head. "Sorry Jungwon, I'd want to cram even more later. Finals are really creeping in and I can't afford to waste any time," you told him with a sad smile. As much as you would like to ditch the books and watch Demon Slayer, the glaring C on your last history paper was telling you otherwise.

You stopped walking when you had reached your doorstep. "Thanks for walking me home, Jungwon. See you tomorrow!" and with that you disappeared behind the door.

Jungwon waved goodbye as he watched the door closed. The smile on his face dropped and his shoulder sagged. Jungwon you idiot, of course she would want to study, he scolded himself. With disappointment on his face, he trudged home with a heavy heart.

"Change of plans, guys," he announced as he swung the front door open, unfazed by the fact that Riki and Sunoo were lounging on his coach. He accepted the fact that Sunoo had somehow gotten the keys to his house (suspecting that his mother probably gave it to him due to favouritism or maybe Riki had sneakily made a copy).

Riki's head poked out from the couch. "She rejected you, didn't she," the younger boy said with a smirk.

Jungwon's face ears turned red as he glared at the boy. "No she did not!" He immediately told him. "She rejected the offer to watch the movie, that's different!"

"That's basically rejection, hyung," Riki laughed.

The other boy just glared at him. "Shut up!" he sputtered out before hiking up the stairs.

Sunoo gave Riki a look, to which the Japanese boy just shrugged his shoulders innocently.

Jungwon walked out from the shower, a towel around his neck with one hand running through his damp hair. Sunoo and Riki had left earlier, finally giving him some peace and quiet. His phone screen was flashing from his study table, initiating that someone was spamming him (quite aggressively) with text message. With a raised eyebrow, he picked up his phone

[7:09 pm] wonyoung: JUNGWON

[7:09 pm] wonyoung: JUNGWON

[7:09 pm] wonyoung: JUNGWON

[7:10 pm] wonyoung: WHY DID Y/N JUST MESSAGED ME ABOUT HOMEWORK

[7:10 pm] wonyoung: ISNT SHE WITH YOU

[7:11 pm] wonyoung: I THOUGHT YOU SAID U WERE GONNA WATCH A MOVIE

[7:11 pm] wonyoung: DEMON HUNTER OR SMTG

[7:12 pm] wonyoung: WHY IS SHE ASKING ME FOR HW

[7:12 pm] wonyoung: DID U CHICKEN OUT???

[7:13 pm] wonyoung: omg u chickened out didnt u

[7:14 pm] jungwon: jfc wonyoung

[7:15 pm] jungwon: and no i did not chicken out okay

[7:15 pm] jungwon: she declined

[7:16 pm] jungwon: she said she had to study ;-;

[7:17 pm] wonyoung: omg u suck

[7:17 pm] wonyoung: i told u the movie idea was dumb

[7:18 pm] wonyoung: but do u ever listen to me

[7:18 pm] wonyoung: no

[7:19 pm] wonyoung: and now u suffer the consequences

[7:20 pm] jungwon: yea yea i get it im dumb

[7:20 pm] jungwon: now what's ur solution the great jang wonyoung

[7:21 pm] wonyoung: i am so glad u asked :)

[7:21 pm] jungwon: oh no

[7:21 pm] wonyoung: stfu im giving u a better idea

[7:22 pm] wonyoung: a n y w a y s

[7:22 pm] wonyoung: my ynradar is going off and she's s a d

[7:23 pm] jungwon: how would u know

[7:23 pm] jungwon: she seemed fine today

[7:23 pm] wonyoung: stfu jungwon its best friend things u wont understand

[7:24 pm] jungwon: i-

[7:25 pm] wonyoung: and as her future bf u SHOULD start to train ur ynradar

[7:25 pm] wonyoung: anw its exam season stoopid

[7:26 pm] wonyoung: and its when those kids start to talk abt how the both of us are gonna get top scores

[7:26 pm] wonyoung: and they talk down on y/n while doing so

[7:26 pm] wonyoung: assholes

[7:27 pm] wonyoung: so i propose to u

[7:27 pm] wonyoung: a ✨ study date ✨

[7:28 pm] jungwon: i

[7:29 pm] jungwon: that's

[7:29 pm] jungwon: actually not a bad idea

[7:30 pm] wonyoung: obv i came up with it

[7:31 pm] jungwon: can u not

[7:31 pm] wonyoung: anw a study date

[7:32 pm] wonyoung: she's struggling in maths

[7:33 pm] wonyoung: specifically taxes because she said and i quote

[7:34 pm] wonyoung: "why do we have to do taxes when we pay people to do it for us"

[7:34 pm] wonyoung: so pls help her and try to cheer her up

[7:35 pm] wonyoung: and confess coward

[7:36 pm] jungwon: i make no promises for the last one

[7:36 pm] wonyoung: aFTER EVERYTHING I JUST SAID

[7:37 pm] jungwon: what if she rejects me wonyoung

[7:38 pm] wonyoung: WE'VE HAD THIS CONVERSATION A LOT OF TIMES JUNGWON

[7:38 pm] wonyoung: SHE LIKES U BUT SHES TOO DUMB TO REALISE

[7:39 pm] jungwon: sigh

[7:40 pm] jungwon: fine i'll try thanks wonyoung

[7:41 pm] wonyoung: np i expect y'all to be a couple by next monday <3

[7:41 pm] jungwon: i-

Sighing for the nth time of the night, Jungwon sat on his bed. He allowed the towel to slipped off his shoulders as his thumb hovered over your chat icon. Truth be told, he always thought his crush on you was unrequited love. You never showed any signs of returning of feelings so he thought he would just ignore the feeling until it was gone.

But oh boy was he wrong, because he didn't knew that he would be spending his high school years by your side. And now you occupy his mind 24/7. Wonyoung could literally tell that he was in love with you, but somehow you never caught on. He allowed Sunoo and Riki to convince him to do the whole "movie date idea", but that failed. So Wonyoung's suggestion was his only option left.

He typed out the message, ready to send it out. If only he could just press the button. Come on Yang Jungwon, you can do this. Just press the damn button Jungwon. Suddenly his phone pinged loudly, scaring the lights out of the poor boy as he yelped and his phone landed with a thud on the ground. He peered over his bed, as if his phone was a ticking bomb.

Oh, it was a message from you.

[8:01 pm] y/n: hey do u know where wonyoung is

[8:01 pm] y/n: she isn't answering my texts

Oh no. He realised that your chat was open, the two ticks indicated that he had (unintentionally) read the message. He couldn't just leave you on read. That's just evil. Scrambling to get his phone, he immediately typed a reply to cover for the other girl.

[8:02 pm] jungwon: sorry i don't :/

[8:02 pm] jungwon: what do u need her for

[8:03 pm] y/n: mf was supposed to teach me a maths question but she left me on rEAD

This was his chance! It was the perfect opportunity for him to score a date with you. Okay, breathe in breath out Jungwon. Don't mess it up and just ask her, he mentally prepared himself.

[8:04 pm] jungwon: oh i could help you if you want

[8:04 pm] jungwon: yk with finals coming up and everything, i can help you study

[8:05 pm] jungwon: if you want of course

[8:05 pm] y/n: omg srsly??

[8:06 pm] jungwon: pls help me study my braincells are literally dying

[8:07 pm] jungwon: jdsjkda okay how about this saturday at your place?

[8:08 pm] y/n: yeah sure

[8:08 pm] jungwon: cool its a date then!

You blinked at Jungwon's message. A date? Wait, did Yang Jungwon just indirectly asked you out? Nah, nah. You were overthinking it. Yes, definitely overthinking. Don't kid yourself, why would Jungwon ask you out on a date? Jungwon is just a friend, you tried to convince yourself.

Keyword: tried.

If he really was just a friend, then why did it felt like butterflies were in your stomach when he said "it was a date"? Then why did you frowned when those girls said that Wonyoung and Jungwon would make a good couple?

Oh god, do you have feelings for your best friend?

Saturday came faster than you would have liked it to. Ever since that last chat with Jungwon, it gave you the sudden realisation that you did in fact had feelings for your best friend. You tried so hard to avoid him in school because you don't want the butterflies back in your stomach. It was basically confirming the fact that you like him. Well, avoiding him also confirmed the fact but you choose to be in denial about it.

You didn't tell Wonyoung about your study date but lately she's been sending you outfit ideas on Pinterest. Specifically, date outftis. And whenever you tried to ask her a question about school, she brushed you off with a random excuse. So it left you no choice but to save those questions for Jungwon.

Speaking of Jungwon, he had texted you 10 minutes ago that he was on the way. You were standing in the middle of your room with your hands on your hips. Both of your parents were out for the day, which left you alone at home. You had taken out the low table to be used later and it was currently in front of you. Colourful workbooks were neatly stacked on top of it.

You did a 360 turn around your room. Was it messy? You cleaned it this morning when you woke up. Did you had any clothes out? No, doesn't look like it. For some reason, you were a nervous wreck. You blamed Jungwon. He just had to call this a date, didn't he.

Should you change? Maybe you should finally look through all those pins Wonyoung sent. Wait, no, why would you have to change into something nice. Jungwon was here to help you study, just that.

Yeah, a study date, your mind emphasised on the word.

The sound of the doorbell pulled you out from your thoughts. You immediately went to open the door. Yang Jungwon stood there on the other side, with his signature smile. Had he always resembled a sheep? He just looked so fluffy.

"Hey!" You greeted him with a smile, internally wincing at your way-too-enthusiastic voice.

But Jungwon didn't seem to mind it. "Hey!" he greeted back.

You moved to the side to let him in. "Thank you for having me," he said as he bowed then proceeded to remove his shoes.

"Uh, do you want anything? Water?" You asked him.

He shook his head.

"Ah, cool. Let's head to my room," you started to walk back to your room.

"Where are your parents?" He asked.

"Out," you simply replied.

That was when it dawned upon you, that your parents were not home. Leaving you and Jungwon, alone. Together. In your room. Alone. With the boy you potentially have a crush on.

"Y/N?" Jungwon tapped on your shoulder. You had stopped walking when you were suddenly washed over by your thoughts. Snapping out of it, you sent him a small smile before opening the room to your door.

The both of you shuffled into your bedroom, you sat down in front of the low table while Jungwon settled down next to you. He moved to take out his books then turned to you. "How about we do some studying and if you have any questions, you can ask me okay?" He said.

You nodded and flipped your own workbook open, immediately starting to work on the first question. Jungwon copied your action and a comfortable silence engulfed the both of you. As the time passed, you found yourself stuck on a certain maths question.

You slightly turned your head to the side to look at Jungwon. He was concentrated at doing his work, you felt a sense of deja vu while looking at him. He resembled Wonyoung when she was studying. At the thought of Wonyoung, you suddenly thought of what those girls said at the bathroom.

They would make a good couple, wouldn't they, you thought. The power couple of the year.

The butterflies in your stomach faded away into an uncomfortable feeling. Just the idea of them getting together already made you sick. You bit the inside of your cheek, you really did had feelings for him. And now it scared you because what if he doesn't feel the same. You made a mental note to consult with Wonyoung later, at least you hope that you'll allow yourself to tell her.

Jungwon must've noticed you staring and gently tapped your head with his pencil. A contrast to when Wonyoung painfully flicked your forehead.

"What's wrong? Are you stuck on a question?" He asked.

You leaned back a bit at the sudden action. You were so deep in your insecurities that you had totally forgotten about the literal problem sitting in front of you. Yet you couldn't even bother to ask him so you just shook your head. "I'm gonna get something to drink," you said instead.

Jungwon watched as you stood up, then decided to follow you as well. "I'll come along."

The boy joined you in the kitchen, perched on one of the island stools as you grabbed a can of soda from the fridge. He studied your movement as you worked around the kitchen. Your features were neutral, you weren't smiling nor frowning. But he could tell that your shoulders were tensed. Wonyoung was right, you did seem down. And he cursed himself for not noticing earlier.

"You okay?" His question made you stopped in a mid-pour stance, the can of soda was tilted but not enough for the contents to be poured out.

You brushed his question off and poured the drink into the cup. "Yeah," you hummed.

Unconvinced by your answer, he pried more. "You know you shouldn't care about what they say, right?"

You furrowed your eyebrows at him, pretending like you didn't understand where he was coming from.

"You're not below us, you know that right?"

You couldn't help but scoffed at his words. Jungwon's lips tugged downwards "I'm being serious here, Y/N," his tone was stern. "You shouldn't listen to what they say. You're more than just-"

The sound of the can being slammed down shuts him up. Your fingers tightened around the can as you looked at him. You didn't had the energy to hear him preach the same old "Don't Listen To Them" speech. You don't need his pity.

"I don't want to hear it, Yang Jungwon," you said through gritted teeth. Not sparing him another glance, you threw the empty can into the trash as you grabbed your glass.

As you walked past Jungwon, he suddenly reached out and held onto your forearm. "Y/N," he said softly. "Please tell me what's wrong."

You sighed and slowly turn around to face him, placing the glass back on the counter. You took in a deep breath before you opened your mouth. "I feel like I'm not enough," you finally said. "Everything I do just doesn't seem enough. All I'm doing is my best but it's just crushing my ego because everyone is telling me that you're better than me."

"I feel like no one wants me and I hate the way I'm perceived. It's always poor Y/N this and poor Y/N that's because everyone just sees me as your shadow and I fucking hate it. I only have two real friends," you gestured wildly. "And lately I'm a nervous wreck cause I keep comparing myself to the two of you. I'm not cool and I'm not smart, and I can't even parallel park!" You threw your hands up in frustration, the feelings you kept inside were pouring out like a waterfall.

Jungwon just stood there as he listened tentatively to every word. He didn't knew that you felt this way, bottling up all your emotions like that.

"And I'm so tired of people telling me to enjoy my youth and that these are the golden years. I might just fucking cry if I hear those words again," you finished ranting. It felt good, it felt like a weight on your heart has been lifted. Then you remembered that you just dumped all of it on Jungwon.

You opened your mouth to apologise to him but he surprised you by pulling him into his arms. At first you were standing stiffly at the sudden contact, but it took a millisecond for you to melt in his embrace. His arms were gently around your back and you returned the hug by wrapping your arms around his torso. The two of you stay in that position for awhile, relishing in each other's embrace. You definitely needed this hug.

Tightening your hold on Jungwon, you realised how important he was to you. He was your best friend and he was always there for you. It was stupid of you to compare yourself to him, when all he did was tried his best for you. The taller boy chuckled when he felt you rubbed your face into his shoulder, he involuntarily released a contented sigh. You felt one of his hands stroked your hair, it felt comforting. That action itself was enough for the butterflies to slowly settled back in you.

After a while, both of you finally (unwillingly) released each other. He pushed a strand of hair behind your ears and said, "You're wrong by the way." Which made you tilt your head in genuine confusion.

"You are cool and you are smart. You're like the coolest person I know. And no one thinks of you as our shadow, you don't hear it but I've always hear the juniors praising you for helping them and how enthusiastic you are," the way he delivered his words was filled with pure awe for you.

"And who cares if you can't parallel park. You didn't hear it from but Jay hyung failed his drivers test three times just because he couldn't parallel park," and that got a laugh out from you. Jungwon smiled proudly that he managed to make you laugh. "And you're wrong when you said no one wants you. I want you."

You blinked once, twice and thrice. He wanted you? "You're just saying that cause you're my best friend," you replied.

"No," he firmly said. "I like you, Y/N."

(Jungwon doesn't know where he got this sudden surge of confidence, but the mood was the perfect time for him to confess. It was a one time chance and he had to take it.)

You chuckled. "I like you too, Jungwon. We are friends aren't we?"

"No, Y/N. I like you. More than friends."

"Oh." Oh.

"Yeah," he scratched the back of neck awkwardly. Oh no, did you not feel the same way?

While you on the other hand, were malfunctioning on the inside. Your best friend just confessed to you and you were frozen on the spot. Why couldn't he had done it over text instead. If he had done it over text, then you could've left the message unread and you could've spammed Wonyoung for help. But the thing is that it wasn't over text and you couldn't just tell him to wait here while you panicked to Wonyoung in your bathroom.

Yang Jungwon likes you. And you like him too, right? Because if you didn't, your cheeks won't be heating up right now and your heart would have not be beating rapidly like it was going to break your rib cage any second. If you didn't like him, there would have never been butterflies in your stomach. Yeah. You like Yang Jungwon, you like him a lot.

"Me too," you whispered, it was soft but it was enough for him to pick it up. Jungwon eyes snapped to you, doe eyed filled with hope. "I like you, too," you said, this time louder. And you made sure you looked him in the eye when you confessed.

You watched as Jungwon's mouth morphed into a big grin. He let out a sigh of relief and dropped to his knees, surprising you. "Jungwon!" you squeaked, bending down to help him.

"I'm fine! I'm fine," he assured you as he stood up with your help. The grin on his face was still there. "It's just that … you like me," he breathed out. "You like me back, wow. I-I can't believe it."

Your face was definitely burning with embarrassment. You punched him lightly on the shoulder, turning away to hide your face. "Believe it, you dork. I like you, okay!" Somehow his grin was able to grew wider at your words, Gently, he took your hand in his.

"How about we stop this study date, and I'll take you out on real date?"

© chaeryybomb 2021

a/n: thank you so much for reading this <3

[sennsational]

pairing : itadori yūji x gn!reader

genre : fluff

word count : 1.3k

tw : none

affiliated with : @hanayanetwork

[a/n] : thank u bb @fairyfuyu for letting me join ur across the universe collab ! this was my first time writing for sweet baby boy itadori and my gosh i fell in love with him all over again 🥰🥺💕 big thank u to my wifey @ara-mitsue for helping me out and beta reading this, much love 🤍

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

It’s a regular day. The all too familiar sound of the alarm goes off at 6.30 AM, making you reach out for your phone to click the snooze button. After silencing your alarm for the fifth time, you begrudgingly get out of bed and drag yourself to the bathroom, where you do your morning routine.

You look back at the time; it’s almost 8.00 AM already. You let out a big sigh followed by a yawn.

So much for waking up early.

You decided yesterday that you would take today to focus on studying the material for your next exam. However, getting your lazy ass out of your dorm proved to be a difficult task on its own. You wouldn’t have to wake up this early if you hadn’t decided to procrastinate on your school responsibilities. But to be fair, it seems like there's no end to the accumulating pile of exams you have to study for.

You make your way over to the campus library with a backpack full of books you have to memorize and no motivation to be found. Honestly, nothing seems out of the ordinary today.

Nothing, except for the fact that a certain pink haired boy is currently screaming at the printer in the library.

‘’Dammit, you have one job, and even that you can’t manage to do! Fuck! I’m so screwed,’’

Confused, you walk up to him to see what’s the matter.

He reaches for his phone and begins to type something at a frenzied pace, not noticing your presence. ‘’Why do these things always happen to me?!’’ he grumbles unhappily, making you pity him a little.

You wordlessly stand next to him as you check the machine for anything that seems to be out of the ordinary. The drawer for the paper is filled to its maximum capacity. There is no indication that the printer is out of ink, but what you do notice is the black touch-screen and the fact that no lights are on.

You bend down to look behind the device, and that's when you discover what the problem is with the printer.

It’s unplugged.

You try to hold back your laughter when you stand back on your feet. The pink haired boy is still frantically typing on his phone, while loudly muttering to himself, clearly not focussed on his surroundings. He stops however when he feels you tap him on the shoulder.

The guy directs his gaze from his phone to you and looks at you with widened eyes. He then turns around, finally taking a look at his surroundings, as he sees the other students as well as the head of the library frowning at him with clear annoyance.

He hastily apologizes.

‘’Euhm, the printer isn’t plugged in,’’ you try to helpfully supply as you point to the plug on the floor.

You watch his expression change from shock to disbelief and then morph into embarrassment as his cheeks get slightly more pink. The guy laughs awkwardly at you, before he too looks at the back of the device, and sees the plug on the ground instead of in the power outlet.

He bends down and plugs it into the power socket before standing to his full height again and pressing the green button. The sound of the printer coming back to life echoes through the quiet library, and you can see him stare incredulously at the machine.

You giggle and pat him on his shoulder. ‘’Friendly advice. Next time, check and see if the printer is still plugged in,’’ you say cheekily as you make your way over to one of the empty tables, taking out your books and notes to start your agonizing task of studying.

You haven’t even read one sentence, before you get distracted by someone taking the seat opposite to yours. It’s the same guy you helped earlier. You tilt your head to the side and cast him a questioning gaze. The pink haired guy scratches behind his neck before he speaks.

‘’Thank you for helping me earlier! You really saved my ass from getting scolded by Nanami-sensei,’’ he picks up his backpack and rummages through his stuff. ‘’I want to thank you, but the only thing I have is a piece of chewing gum. Will that be enough to suffice?’’

You stare at him, completely at a loss for words. The guy mistakes your silence as a sign of discomfort, making him gulp. ‘’Sorry, I should probably introduce myself first. My name is Itadori Yūji,’’ he reaches out his hand for you to shake and to his giddiness you take it, while giving him a gentle smile.

‘’Nice to meet you, Itadori. I’m Y/n.’’

It feels as if time completely froze, when you both keep staring at each other, hands still intertwined. After a few more seconds, you seem to be the first one to come out of your daze as you giggle and let go of his hand, opting to push a few stray hairs behind your ear.

Itadori lets out a small cough as he drags his hand through his hair, dishevelling the pink locks even more. ‘’So, euhm, you still want the gum as a sign of my gratitude?’’ he asks sheepishly. You nod and take the gum from his hand, thanking him as you unpack the wrapper and pop it in your mouth.

It tastes like strawberries. Very fitting.

‘’You know, I’ve never seen you before. I mean, if we were from the same class, I’m sure I would’ve remembered a pretty face like yours,’’ he muses absent-mindedly. You, however, are taken aback by his words, feeling your cheeks heat up at being called ‘pretty’.

Itadori directs his gaze to you and notices how your face has turned way more red than before. Concerned, he reaches out and places his palm flat against your forehead. ‘’Are you feeling okay, Y/n? You’re burning up,’’ he looks at you with worry pooling in his brown orbs.

His sudden action makes you let out a quiet shriek as you desperately try to get a hold of yourself. ‘’I-I’m fine! It’s quite h-hot in here d-don’t you think?’’ you stutter out, mentally slapping yourself for stuttering in the first place.

Itadori laughs, making the other students shush him for being loud again. He apologizes and lowers his voice to a whisper. ‘’You’re cute. I think it might be you, because I’m freezing over here. Well not freezing, but you get what I mean,’’ he rambles, making you snicker.

‘’Say what, how about we study together at the local café off campus? Change of scenery and nobody who keeps shushing us–’’

‘’You mean, you,’’ you interject, making him playfully roll his eyes.

‘’Okay, me. Are you in though?’’

He smiles brightly at you when you nod, taking a hold of your hand and dragging you out of the library. You make a mental note of how much larger and warmer his hand is in comparison to yours.

‘’I know the perfect café we can go to! They have the most delicious beverages and a wide variety of pastries!’’ he rambles on, making you chuckle at his cuteness. Something about Itadori’s care-free personality brings you a sense of freedom and happiness that you haven’t felt for quite some time now.

One thing is for sure, though. You won’t be studying today.

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reblogs and comments are appreciated !

taglist : @ara-mitsue @justanawolf @beautifulblhell @tunamiya 🖤 — if u would like to be tagged in my future fics, then kindly sent me an ask 🥰 i’m still contemplating if i should make an google form for it

© sennsational 2021 - all rights reserved. please do not copy, modify, or repost my works and claim it as yours.

[anonquack]

| And Me? |

Alex Quackity x Reader, Oneshot!

Word Count: 2262

Warnings: None! Just some curse words.

Summary: Seeing how much time you've been spending with Bad recently just doesn't sit well with Quackity, and he's going to make sure your attention is returned back to where it belongs. With him.

You had been messing around with what was coined the "Feral Boys" on a Saturday afternoon. Your takeout order was placed on your desk, neglected by the loud clicking and tapping of your keyboard. You all had been throwing around random stream ideas, which proceeded to be bashed by everyone.

"Guys," Dream groaned, frustration clear in his tone yet there was still that softness that let everyone know he wasn't actually mad, "we've been on call for 2 hours and still have no stream ideas we like."

"Maybe if Sapnap didn't complain about everything." Karl quickly quipped in, the grin that was probably plastered onto his face was visible to you even with it just being voice chat.

Sapnap clapped back just as quickly, a little more edge to his words but just the right amount of teasing too.

"Yeah? Nothing works with your schedule. We gotta fit these ideas in with your Mr. Beast-filled schedule."

Quackity let out a laugh that made you roll your eyes yet smile fondly as you finally turned to look at your food, taking a bite as the call jumped right back into their previous banter, a helpless Dream trying to regain control and get everyone to work together.

It served as background noise as you quietly ate your food, inputting or agreeing with someone here and there, your stomach grateful to finally be getting some food. You'd been too busy earlier, and now you had the chance to eat and relax on call with friends. No actual streaming or anything, but still with the burden of coming up with new and fun stream ideas.

As you took yet another bite, your gaze fell onto your phone as the screen lit up, a notification coming through. You set your food down and grabbed the device, clicking on it and smiling once you saw it was a message from Bad.

Unlike whatever mess this call was, you had scheduled to record a video with Bad, and you assumed this message was to confirm that he was now available to film. After quickly reading it, your assumptions were proven right.

"Hey, Bad just texted. I'm gonna head out. Try not to think too hard while I'm gone, okay?" You said as you grabbed ahold of your mouse again, cursor going towards the disconnect button.

There was a mix of 'Bye!' and 'You think of some too, then!' and Sapnap's backhanded remarks that told you he would indeed miss you. You smiled, about to click disconnect before he spoke up.

"Bad? What are you recording with Bad?" The question caught you off guard, not because it came from Quackity but because no one had asked.

"Oh, well, just for a youtube video.. and I promised him we'd chat since I miss him." You admitted, cursor dancing across the screen as you waited for a response, if there was to be any.

"How come we didn't get invited?" Quackity asked, voice a mix of feigned hurt and disbelief of being 'left out'.

You playfully rolled your eyes, noticing a message come in from Bad yet again asking if he could call now. "You spend enough time with Bad as it is. Get in line, right now its MY turn. Now bye!! Seriously." You chuckled, hearing the start of a protest before disconnecting from the call and moving your cursor onto Bad's chat, quickly pressing the call button and waiting to hear his sweet voice ringing through your headphones.

—

As the small ping notified everyone else in the call that you had disconnected, Quackity let out a small huff, followed by George's small laugh.

"What was that?"

"What was what?" Quackity replied with a tired tone, fingers lazily typing up some email he had been procrastinating on.

"Was that jealously I smelled, Big Q?" Karl teased, letting out a laugh that was so contagious, eliciting laughs from the whole call, even Quackity couldn't help but laugh before letting out another noise of disapproval.

"No, what the fuck? It's just they didn't even contribute any ideas. Just sat and argued with us, and then left to go hang out with Bad." He reasoned, it was a half truth. It didn't bother Quackity at all that you'd been 'unproductive', he enjoyed your company so much and these past two hours had left him with a tummy ache from laughing too hard.

What he hadn't enjoyed was you dropping everything to go on a call with Bad.

It didn't actually bother him, it was part of the bit they had going on, where he was a Skeppy 2.0 and had to fight the other Skeppy copies, in this case YOU, for Bad's attention.

..

Right?

He could feel a migraine coming through trying to understand this new emotion settling in his chest.

Sapnap let out an amused laugh, mumbling a 'sure' but swiftly changing topics in order to not start yet another argument.

—

It had been about 4 days since the call with the 'Feral Boys' and the recording with Bad. Since then, everything had ran smoothly and you'd been extra productive, focused on getting the video edited and posted as soon as possible.

Currently, you were ringing Bad as he streamed on the server, wanting to make a quick appearance and also just bug him for a bit since you missed him.

Since it was a rather chill stream, Bad didn't fight away your affection, instead encouraging that you hop on the server and play with him for a bit. You couldn't say no to that, how could you?

Before you knew it, you were off your bed and on your chair, in front of your computer as the Minecraft loading screen lit up your facial features and Bad told chat and you about an event that took place this weekend while he was out shopping.

The hushed laughs and sweet stories being shared were soon interrupted by Bad letting out an annoyed huff. "Quackity is spamming me to let him join the call. Is that okay, Y/N?"

You nodded, letting out a hum of approval as you walked towards Bad's avatar that was currently standing still since Bad tabbed out. "Of course."

"Okay, Quackity I'm live, what do you want?" Bad warned before tabbing back onto minecraft.

"Why are you guys calling without me?" There it was, the same tone he had 4 days ago when he was 'upset' he got left out. Your eyes looked at the small message on the bottom left of the screen that let everyone know Quackity had joined the server.

"Because.. whats wrong with it?" Bad asked, confused, before happily following that up, "I was actually telling them about my trip to the store over the weekend."

"Yeah, he was," you mused, "before you rudely interrupted." You assumed he was here for a bit, the Skeppy 2.0s fighting for Bad's love and affection, bothering Bad for a bit before letting the stream go back to being a relaxing, chill stream.

"Yeah? Well I want to hear the story too. You'll tell me too, right Bad?" He returned, the joking tone in his voice confirmed your assumptions. This was a bit.

Bad let out an exasperated sigh. These bits were never planned beforehand, they just happened and unfortunately for Bad it was happening during his chill stream. "What are you two going to fight about now?"

"I have one. Why were you guys recording without me? Hm?" The chat exploded with confusion and excitement for a new video from either Bad or you, possible video ideas being thrown around in chat.

"Because." You deadpan, "If you can do it, so can I."

"That's different." He says every single syllable with precision, as if he is preaching something of upmost importance. "You two spend way too much time together now."

Bad says something to try and interfere the banter he knows is about to take place, chat is going crazy about the Skeppy 2.0s fighting for Bad's love. "So much for a chill stream." He mumbles to chat as his character watches you and Quackity hitting each other. With your fists, since it was deemed a 'fair fight' by both.

After about 3 hours, Bad decided he'd had enough and began saying goodbye to chat. There was a content smile on your lips as you made your character crouch beside Bad's, letting out a small and content "Bye chat!". Quackity had stayed the 3 hours as well, and was yelling his own goodbyes. As soon as the stream ended, Bad let out a small laugh.

"Sometimes you two are just too much." He said, the smile evident in his voice. "Do you guys enjoy bothering me that much?"

"Aw c'mon, Bad. You know we love you tons. And you know damn well you enjoy it too." Quackity teased, which earned yet another exasperated sigh from Bad.

"Okay, well I'm heading to bed.. I'm exhausted. Thank you two, for joining me tonight.. I had fun." He said softly, which automatically made a frown appear on your lips.

"Of course, Bad! I had fun too. Thanks for letting us join. I'll call you tomorrow, yeah?" You offered, to which he hummed. There was a few more goodbyes exchanged before the ping notified you both Bad was gone.

There was silence for a bit as you finally got out of the server and shut minecraft off, wanting to rest your eyes for a bit. Maybe even head to bed yourself.

"You'll call him tomorrow, huh?"

Your eyes closed and you leaned your head back against your chair.

"Bit's over, Quackity." You chuckled, not up for yet another banter about who deserved Bad's love more.

"When's the last time we called? Now it's just Bad this, Bad that."

Your eyes opened, your eyebrows furrowed as you stared at his little profile picture that had its green ring fading around it.

"What?" You said in pure disbelief.

"You heard me." He mumbled. "Video recordings, streams, calls. And me? Nothing. Not one crumb."

"What about you?" You teased, amusement growing as you realized the past 3 hours had not been about Bad, at least not entirely.

"Don't make me actually say it." He complained, which only helped make the smile on your face grow.

"Use your words, Alex. I can't read minds." You gently bit at your bottom lip in anticipation, and in poor attempt to hold back the laugh that was threatening to escape.

"Where's my calls? My recordings. You can't just randomly strip away all your attention from me and dump it on Bad."

"I didn't even do that." You protested, before letting the laugh escape your lips. "Plus, you should be greedy over Bad's attention, not mine."

"Maybe it's not for a bit, asshole? Did you think of that?" He asked sarcastically, earning a scoff from you.

"So you want my attention yet you're going to proceed to call me an asshole?"

"Yes." He breathed out.

"You didn't deny it." You hummed in slight approval. Usually he'd shy away from showing any actual clinginess or affection, and yet here he was, declaring with his whole chest that he wanted attention.

"Because I'm serious. Do you think this is a joke? Is that what I am to you?" He said dramatically, to which you shook your head.

"Of course not." You hummed before smiling at the absurdity of this conversation.

Maybe it was the lack of sleep finally catching up to you and now you were imagining things.

"So? Does this mean I'm getting daily calls, recording videos with you, and streaming together whenever? Even on the alt?"

"Now you're just asking for too much."

"It's the bare minimum you can do for treating me so poorly and neglecting your responsibilities."

"Neglecting my responsibilities?" You repeated in disbelief.

"Yes." He declared. "Ignoring me for Bad is neglecting your responsibilities. A.K.A. me."

"I wasn't ignoring you, Alex." You tried to reason, though he would not listen to any reasoning.

"Yeah, yeah. So what? Do we have a deal?"

You paused and thought about what he was asking for. It really wasn't much, and he was most likely joking, but it was very endearing to see him ask for attention so openly. Especially from you.

"Did you miss me, Alex? While I was off on calls with Bad, talking about who knows what until who knows what time.. were you missing me? Thinking about me?" There was a teasing tone to your voice, but you also genuinely wanted to know.

It was clear that it caught him offguard.

"I mean.. yeah– what do you want me to say? No, fuck you. I didn't miss you at all. That's why I'm on call with you whining and bitching about how you don't give me enough attention and I want more. Specifically from you, please."

His last few words came out more hushed than the rest, and it brought a smile onto your face.

"Okay."

"Okay-?"

"You don't have to go on.. I'll give you the attention you want so badly from me." You said, the grin on your face growing more at the sound of happiness he let out.

"I guess directly asking for stuff isn't too bad, hm? I'll have to give props to Karl later for the advice."

You raised your eyebrows in amusement. "You asked Karl for advice on how to get my attention-?"

He let out a small groan, "Let's not talk about this with anyone, yeah? Just give me my attention and shh."

You hummed, "Whatever you say, Alex."

[salmonskinrolltf]

Oh the idea is amazing! I'm an average guy having boring office works every day though it's acceptable compared to working in the construction site. And I'm wondering what it feels to be a dilf with successful life and masculine figure and dating with men in the same class, could you help me? :)

I have submitted your request to the Magic Die and you have rolled: 3

One day, while you’re at work on your computer in your cubicle, you’re typing a report. All of a sudden, every letter you type just comes out onscreen as a “3,” no matter what key you press.

Confused, you try to delete the numbers, but your keyboard just keeps spitting out 3’s. You look around to see if anybody else in the office bullpen is having the same problem, but everybody else seems to be tapping away at their keyboards like normal.

Suddenly, your boss raps on the cubicle wall and asks you to come with him to his office. You follow him, wiping some nervous sweat off your forehead. Is it possible he thought you were goofing around and procrastinating?

You sit down across his broad walnut desk, and he steeples his fingers, saying “We’ve been taking a look at your performance, and… We think you’re a perfect for for the VP position that we’re creating at corporate. We need more young blood around here, and you’d be a perfect fit.”

“Thank you so much sir, of course I’ll accept,” you say, though you’re confused about what he meant by “young blood.” Sure, you’re not middle-aged but you’ve been at this company for quite a while. Once he dismisses you, you head to the floor’s all-gender single stall bathroom to collect yourself. As soon as you lock the door behind you, you’re hit with an overpowering wave of weakness. The stress of the afternoon must finally be catching up with you, you imagine.

However, when you look in the mirror, your face looks… fresher. Less tired. The slight lines that were beginning to form at the corner of your mouth are gone, and for that matter, so is the stubble left over from when you were in too much of a hurry to shave this morning. Your hair is beginning to lengthen into a less conservative, more stylish cut as it lightens to blonde and drapes over your eyes.

Your chest begins to tickle and you undo your tie and pull open your shirt to see the sparse black hair that used to dot your chest receding into your skin, all your slight muscle definition and fat sluicing away to give you a skinny, hairless, feminine physique. The corner of a pec tattoo unfurls into sight like a bird spreading its wings.

You hold your hands to your head, instinctively being careful to protect your styled hair. Your new stylish earring tinkles in your ear as your hand brushes it.

You look like some 20-year-old twink, not someone who just earned a VP position. What the hell is going on here? You suddenly remember submitting a wish to some magic dice on Tumblr last night when you were slightly buzzed on scotch and looking for jerk off material. Shit, was that dude actually serious? The pieces suddenly fall into place, and you realize you must have rolled a 3. Well, there went your dreams of being a DILF with a masculine physique. At least you didn’t become the FULL opposite of what you wished for. Hence the successful life. And what else was it you had asked for? Dating men in your same class?

Suddenly, there’s a knock on the door. You open it to see Mr. Henderson, the VP of Marketing.

You quickly rebutton your shirt. “I’m terribly sorry, sir. I was just-“

He quiets you with a finger and whispers gruffly in your ear. “No, boy. Keep it open. I need to congratulate you on your promotion.” The man engulfs your mouth in a passionate kiss, shutting the door behind you with his foot and locking it again. “Now, how are you going to thank Daddy for getting you this gig?”

[buckybarnesandmarvel]

Jumping Universes

Chapter 10

Pairings: Bucky x f!Reader, OC!Daniel x Reader..?

Warnings: Each chapter will have its own warnings.

For this chapter: ANGST, Violence, HYDRA, Cursing

Summary: Y/N Y/L/N lives in the real world (our world). She has loved Marvel for as long as she could remember. Suddenly, when a universe jumping experiment from the 1900s is unearthed, Y/N is one of the billions to volunteer. After miraculously securing a place, Y/N trains for years, non-stop. When she finally gets her chance and it all goes wrong will she be able to adapt or will it all come crashing down?

A/N: WEEEEEEEEEE! I procrastinated for so long, I’m sorry! Also, Sam is like the best wingman ever! Also, the reader’s powers cannot harm her.

************************************************************************

“Hm? Oh, um, I have a date!”

......

Bucky’s heart sank. Was he too late? Had he lost you already?

You had left about half an hour ago. As soon as the door had shut, he sat down on the couch, with his head in his hands and that was where he remained. Your words played over and over in his mind, taunting him.

But it was just a date, right? With Daniel. But still, just a date. You could maybe have hated it. The though made him cheer up, but just for a split-second.

He was truly fucked.

Bucky groaned and heaved himself off of the sofa and made his way to the gym, hoping it would pose as a distraction. He set up the punching bag and set to work.

Around 10 minutes later, Bucky’s only focus was the red object in front of him. His knuckles were sore but he didn’t stop. He poured every emotion bottled up in him onto the battered bag. He only stopped a couple minutes later when Sam called his name from the door. Bucky was so caught up with what he was doing that he didn’t even hear him come in.

Breathing heavily, he trudged towards Sam who started speaking before he even reached him.

“Man, what the hell?”

Now Bucky was confused.

“What?”

“You really just let her go on the date like that?”

“I didn’t ‘just let her’, Sam, she’s a grown woman and I can’t control what she does or doesn’t, even if that means going on a date when I am here suffering because I’m a fucking idiot and in love with her!”

Sam had a smug smile etched onto his face, raising an eyebrow.

“So tell her. Tell her you’re in love with her. Yes, you’re an idiot and yes, you hurt her but if you really love her, then, you should stop her going on that date so she knows. Otherwise, she might get with that Daniel dude and you’ll be moping here forever. So quit throwing a tantrum like a toddler, get your ass up and crash that date!”

Without hesitation, Bucky ran off, letting the works sink in as she changed out of his sweats into something a little more decent. He frantically got the place of your date out of a baffled Wanda. When he decided he was ready, he took a few calming breaths and headed out of the door.

......

You had left the compound, excited yet nervous for the upcoming date. After you got fucked over by Bucky, you were rising up again, ready for something new, although you still hurt.

You guessed it was true, some wounds never heal.

You adjusted your shirt as you sat in the small café, waiting for Daniel. The location seemed a little sketchy at first, a small coffee shop in a secluded back ally, but as you looked around, the place was far from sketchy. The walls were pale pink, except for the brick wall behind the counter, and were decorated with cute floral prints and designs.

Now you were seriously considering coming in a different attire. You were wearing a light grey t-shirt with black jeans and a black leather jacket which matched your gloves. You tapped your fingers nervously against the wooden table. Soon, you saw Daniel walk in, handsome as ever.

He walked towards you, dashing a toothy smile. You stood up, and hugged him.

“Y/N! It’s great to see you!”

“Daniel, it’s great to see you too, how are you!”

“I’m very well, thank you!”

The two of you laughed at your faux, over-the-top greeting as you sat down. No later than a few seconds and the waitress had come over, taking your orders.

Conversation flowed easily with flirty remarks and touches and, before you knew it, 20 minutes passed, just like that. Too engrossed in your conversation, you hadn’t realised that all the other customers had left the café. With perfect timing (in Daniel’s opinion), you headed to the bathroom quickly.

You did your business before splashing a small amount of cold water on your face, although that didn’t take your happiness away. You giggled and smiled widely as you looked in the mirror, though mentally face palming because of your childish antics.

You straightened your top, before pushing open the bathroom door.

You took in your surroundings, your smile dropping.

“What the fuck?”

......

“Daniel, w-what?”

Daniel stood by your table in a fighting stance, gun in hand.

Coincidentally, the gun was pointed at you.

“Y/N! How nice of you to join us again!”

You could feel your breathing pick up as you took a daring step forward when Daniel spoke again, his voice calm, yet sinister.

“Take one more step and I shoot.”

He cocked the gun, automatically making you freeze.

“I know you’re probably confused, but we have no time. Let’s go. Now.”

He grabbed your arm, roughly, and you flinched when you felt the barrel of the gun press against the side of your head.

“I’m not going anywhere with you, asshole.”

You don’t know where the courage had come from, you had a gun to your temple for crying out loud!

You thought Daniel would be mad, but he just laughed, the sound sending a chill down your spine.

“You don’t have a choice, darling. Oh, and one wrong move? HYDRA is right outside the door, waiting to shoot.” He whispered against your ear and you involuntarily shuddered, both at the pet name and the threat.

Part of your brain thought to just follow him. It’s better than ending up killed, right?

But the other half, the irrational half, thought to fight your way out of this. You know what HYDRA is like and what they would probably do to you if you got caught and that would be way worse. Without comprehending what you were doing, you walked a couple steps forwards, along with Daniel, before you quickly slammed your elbow into his sternum, catching him off guard.

The blow winded Daniel slightly, making him loosen his grip on you. You were able to slip away, but he was still blocking the door. He was panting slightly, and before he could say or do anything, you swiftly kicked him in the groin.

“Bitch!” Daniel fell to his knees, hands to his crotch, his gun falling out of his grasp.

When you both realised what happened, you lunged forward in the direction of the gun, at the same time. You got there first, but before your hand could close around it, Daniel grabbed your forearm, twisting it back.

You cried out at the pain in your shoulder as he yanked you up. He pinned the other arm on your back and made you stand up. You kicked him in the knees, which made him release one of your hands. With your free hand, you punched him as hard as you could, in the face and you saw a split in his cheek. Your knuckled were on fire but, nevertheless, you drew back for another blow. His grip was vice-like on your other forearm.

Before you could deliver the blow, however, Daniel took hold of your other hand. You were now facing him, both your hands in his possession. Within a split second, you leaned back and kicked Daniel in the stomach. He let go of both of your hands and you took that as a chance to whip off your gloves.

You didn’t know what was going to happen to him, with the amount of energy you felt, but you couldn’t find it in you to care. You were just about to grab a hold of him, when you heard gunfire from outside, distracting both you and Daniel. Daniel mentioned that the HYDRA team were outside and under his command for this mission, yet no command was made. You peered outside, and you saw a figure fighting the HYDRA team. There were too many of them, and you just hoped they would make it out alive.

Daniel took your distraction as an opportunity. He picked up his gun and the next thing you knew was a piercing sharp pain in your side, the gunshot echoing in the small room. Your hands immediately went to your side, coating them with red. The shock and adrenaline put off the pain. The bullet was still in you, wedged in the flesh under you left ribs.

A second gunshot rang out, this time hitting you in the lower abdomen and you cried out as you fell. Your chest rose and fell, rapidly and your eyes widened when you saw Daniel strut towards you. He was messy and bleeding lightly in some places, yet he took his sweet time reaching you.

He knelt down and with as much strength you could muster, you reached out with bloody hands and placed them on either side of his head. Daniel immediately cried out and stumbled backwards, the smell of burnt flesh filling the room. The smell made you feel nauseous and you fought to keep your eyes open. Daniel lunged towards you again, but before he could, the door burst open and a large figure came strutting in.

Bucky.

......

And he was furious. There was no other way to put it. His anger was almost that of the Winter Soldier’s.

All that happened was that he was on his way to see you. When he reached the café, there were a group of people standing around the place. HYDRA. He recognised them immediately. Fighting his way through the agents, he only had one priority in mind.

Getting to you.

He was onto the last agent, when he heard two loud blasts from inside the shop. His heart sank into his stomach as he thought of the worst. When he heard you cry out, his mind went into overdrive. With one swift hit, he took out the agent in front of him and ran into the café.

He spotted you on the ground, your shirt soaked in blood. He immediately went to Daniel. If this was under any other circumstances, and you weren’t hurt, he would have made Daniel’s death slow, making him suffer, but you needed him. He had to get this over and done with as quick as he could.

His vibranium hand wrapped around Daniel’s neck as he slammed him onto the nearest table. The sound of the metal hitting flesh could be heard over and over again and you flinched from where you lay. Daniel’s protests turned from loud cries then to weak whimpers, then... nothing. Bucky stood over the body for a few seconds, breathing heavily, but immediately turned around when you called his name.

“B-bucky?”

Bucky made  his way towards you and knelt down, by your head. He took you into his arms, cupping your face. His hands moved down to your wounds and he cursed.

“Hey, doll, hey. I’m going to need you to keep you eyes open for me ? Can you manage that, honey?”

“Mhm...” Truth be told, you were tired. You wanted to close your eyes and drift off to wherever but you also wanted to try.

For Bucky.

You involuntarily flinched when he applied pressure to your bullet holes. He whispered praises in your ear, making you feel slightly better.

“Your doing great, doll, jus’ keep those pretty eyes open for me, okay?”

“Why are y-you here, Buck?”

“Ssh, doll, don’t worry ‘bout it. That’s a conversation for another time. Now I need you to cooperate with me, here, baby, can you do that for me?”

You didn’t miss the pet name, but ignored it for now and you nodded.

“Great, baby, so I’m going to have to pick you up. It’s going to hurt but I need you to be brave for me, doll. Squeeze my hand as hard as you want.”

He offered you his vibranium hand and you took a hold of it. Bucky gently picked you up and shifted you so you were being held, bridal style, in his arms. You winced and sucked in a breath, the blood leaving your knuckles because of how hard you were squeezing.

“You’re doing great, doll, just stay awake. Please.”

The pain was overwhelming. Your eyelids grew heavier with each passing second. Bucky got up, carefully, and started walking as fast as he could without jerking and hurting you; luckily, the tower was close by.

He was almost there when he looked down at your form. His heart sped up when he saw your closed eyes, you hand limp around his. He was in a state of panic, now running as fast as he could.

“Shit, Y/N, doll, you need to wake up. Please. C’mon Y/N!” Bucky’s voice broke at the end of the sentence. He had reached the tower and was shoutin at anyone in sight.

“Someone! Get her to the medbay. For fuck’s sake, can someone help!”

Dr. Cho was called. She and a few others escorted you, placing an oxygen mask over your face and pressure to the wounds. Bucky raced behind them.

“Barnes. You need to stay here.”

Bucky stopped. He watched you taken into the medbay. His hands and clothes were covered in your blood and soon, everyone was coming up to him.

Steve pulled him in, taking him somewhere more private, even though Bucky protested, claiming he needed to stay with you.

“Bucky, c’mon, I know you want to stay with her, but you need to clean up, you’re covered in blood and you wouldn’t want her to see you like this when she wakes up, would you?”

“But, what if-”

“No, buts, Bucky,” Steve’s firm voice cut in. “She’s strong, she’s going to make it.”

Now, Bucky just hoped Steve was right.

************************************************************************

Thank you for reading. This chapter was a bit angsty but there’s loads of fluff to come! :)

Tags:

@emetophilily  @winterdrag0n​ @lostyx​ @stumbleonmywords​ @howlermonkey69​ @dontputyourfckingdrinkonmytable @silentkiller2374​ @xiernia​ @sergntbarnes​ @i-beg-your-pardon-laufeyson​ @buckylokisimp @psychoticmason​ @blithecapricorn  @meisspookycrayon​ @the-gods-gloted-but-they-burned 

[jinkicake]

Heeeyyyyyy! I was the one who asked for the cat passing comfort with Seijoh Karasuno and Kamomedai pls!

Hi~~~ Pls let me know if you want me to try and write more for any of these (like Karasuno's isn't as long as the others bc I found it so hard to write)!!! Sigh, I've never cried while writing something before but,, I did sob while writing these LMFAO so they might be bad and poorly edited,,, senior pet owner tingz :PPPP Anyway~ (also it was my first time writing with Kamomedai so... I hope they are in character...)

WC- 3k

Kamomedai

“(Y/N), I didn’t mean to eavesdrop.” Hirugami quietly starts, slowly opening the classroom door in a calming manner. “I heard everything,” The middle blocker nearly cringes but ultimately contains his composure, how the hell is he supposed to lighten the situation. “I’m really sorry. Are you okay?”

One look into your tearful expression and frazzled state tells Hirugami everything, of course, you’re not okay.

“It’s alright, Hirugami, really.” You offer him a wobbly smile, one that does you more harm than good as a sob crawls its way up your throat. Quickly, you try to wipe a tear off of your cheek before swallowing tightly and trying again. “You should get to practice.”

Hirugami wants to desperately run his hand through his hair and express his frustrations but, he remains calm for you and for the situation. Why can’t you just express your feelings with him?

“Hirugami! (Y/N)! We have practice, let’s go!” Hoshiumi’s voice rings throughout the classroom, abruptly stopping when he notices your tearful expression. “Oh no. Hirugami how could you reject (Y/N)!” Hoshiumi complains, groaning out loud, at the confession scene and his friend’s lack of taste.

“It’s not that, that’s not what’s happening here.” Hirugami tries to explain, gesturing generously with his hands in order to keep his ace at bay.

“I’m just dealing with something personal.” You quietly whisper and finally gather your things off of your desk.

“(Y/N),” Hirugami attempts to stop you, placing his arm out in front of you so that you can’t get past the door.

“I don’t want to talk about it.” You nearly choke, your flustered state getting the best of you. You feel like you might melt to the floor any second now, you’re so overwhelmed and your teammates are not making it any easier. “Please let me go to practice.”

Hirugami hesitantly lifts his arm up, watching you as you flee from the classroom and out into the hallway. It’s so silent and tense in the room, he all but sighs.

“I got it mixed up, didn’t I?” Hoshiumi asks, lightly scratching his head as he closes his eyes in thought. “(Y/N) rejected you, didn’t they?”

“No, it was not a confession scene.” Hirugami clarifies as he grabs his bag and walks out into the hallway, after you.

“What was it then?” Hoshiumi can’t help but get nosy, he’s curious and might explode if he doesn’t find out what exactly happened.

“I don’t really think it is my place to tell you. I’m not even supposed to know.” This time, Hirugami sighs loudly and his eyebrows furrow in worry. He’s not even sure why he is so distraught over this, if it’s because of you or the situation you’re in. “Apparently, their cat has to be put down.” His voice is so quiet, it’s almost a whisper. Not even Hoshiumi has anything to say right away.

“That’s really upsetting, (Y/N) always talks about that old hag.” Hoshiumi somberly stares ahead of him, his worry growing just as quickly as his teammates. “They don’t want to talk about it?”

“I guess not.” Hirugami frowns and stubbornly acknowledges your will.

“Then we just have to be there for them! Give (Y/N) support like they give us!” Hoshiumi lightly taps his cheeks, bracing his game face. “Subtly show support while acting as normal as possible.”

Hirugami wants to sigh, that’s easier said than done.

“Come on, let’s go out to eat!” Hoshiumi announces as he steps in front of your path the minute practice is over, he crosses his arms over his chest to ensure that you don’t get away from him.

“I’m not really in the mood,” You sigh and shift the strap of your bag higher up on your shoulder. “you and Hirugami go.”

“(Y/N), we need you to babysit,” Suwa calls from the supply closet, busying himself with a mindless task. As a second-year it was only natural for Suwa to put you in charge of the other second years, specifically the most animated ones.

“I’m tired!"

“If those two get in trouble then it’s on you,”

“Fine, fine. Where are we going?” You bitterly blink back tears of frustration that have welled up in your eyes and try to remain calm, in reality, all you want to do is go home and sleep. The mere thought of your warm bed waiting for you is enough to have you sniffling in irritation. At your question, Hoshiumi gives you a supportive pat on the back as his head tilts up in thought.

“Let’s just go to a convenience store!”

“And have a picnic?” You ask sarcastically but Hoshiumi’s eyes light up, the idea clearly resonates with him.

“Yes! Let’s go! Let’s go!” The shorter second year grabs his close friend by the arm and pulls the three of you close together. “Hirugami, let’s go!”

The walk to the convenience store isn’t long, if anything, Hoshiumi fills up the silence with endless chatter. Rants rest on his lips as he recalls events from earlier in the day, he’s all too consumed with his words to even notice you and Hirugami trailing a few paces behind him.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” Hirugami asks lowly, dipping his head to ensure that you can hear him. “Talk to me, (Y/N).”

“I’m fine,” You quietly murmur back, biting down on your tongue and hoping that if you say the lie enough that you’ll start to believe it.

“I know that you aren’t,” Hirugami continues to push, his head tilts back as he stares up at the night sky and not at the frustrated look on your face.

“What do you want me to say, Hirugami?” You finally snap, your anger boiling beneath the surface, your voice is loud enough that it even catches Hoshiumi’s attention.

“What?”

“I have to lose someone special to me, important to me? That I’ll never see again? Do you really think that I am okay? What kind of stupid question is that?!” You spit, voice raising in octaves as your nerve ends begin to fry.

“(Y/N),” Hoshiumi tries to gently rest his hand over yours but you snap your wrist away before he gets the chance.

“No, I am not okay, Hirugami. Stop pushing me about it.” Your water eyes do nothing to help your case and you bitterly try to push them away with the heel of your palm.

“Don’t forget that we are here for you!” Hoshiumi declares, his voice holding that same serious tone that you only hear during matches. “Just tell us. We want to be here for you.”

His words only make your defenses crack even further and when Hirugami opens his arms, you just about lose it. When one of your closest friends offers a hug, who are you to deny it? Even Hirugami hums in thought.

“We’ll always be with you, (Y/N). Don’t go quiet on us.”

Karasuno

“(Y/N),” Sugawara quietly gasps as he enters the gym early one morning. The last thing the setter expected to see was you, bawling your eyes out, just as the sun was beginning to rise. “what’s wrong?”

You push your tears away with your palms before finally looking up to meet your friend’s worried gaze, his doe eyes only making you feel more anxious.

“Nothing, I mean,” You suck in a harsh breath and try to keep the tears at bay, but to no avail. “my cat has to be put down.”

Sugawara can only watch with an aching heart as you curl in on yourself, bringing your knees to your chest as you sob into your hands.

“Sorry, I was trying to stay calm but I just found out and,” You’re unable to speak as another sob wracks your body, Sugawara is by your side before you can even blink. He gently places one of his hands on your band, softly rubbing circles into your skin while trying to calm you down. “I think I am just going to skip practice.”

“No one would blame you,” Your friend gently coos, momentarily making eye contact with a first-year who had just entered the gym. Tsukishima, followed by Yamaguchi, only makes a face at the scene before him as he enters the locker room. Yamaguchi offers the two of you a sympathetic smile and then follows his friend. “people are starting to enter the gym, do you want to leave?”

All you can do is nod.

“Is there anything I can do to help? Or the rest of the team, any of us can help.” Sugawara gently leads you to your shared classroom, offering you tissues from his bag as he does so. “Daichi and Asahi will do anything for you, you know this.” The playfulness in his words makes you softly smile.

“I’ll let you know if I can think of anything.” You reassure him and Sugawara grabs his hand in yours before offering a heartfelt squeeze.

“Can I tell them what’s going on, the team?” Sugawara is surprised by your tight nod and your verbal acceptance.

“I think, if I’m going to be absent from practice the next couple of days then it’s only fair.”

“Hmm, alright,”

The next you saw of any of your team members was until later in the day. Much to your surprise, you were practically tackled by a short first year as he desperately clung to your arm as a supportive gesture.

“(Y/N)! I hear what happened, I’m so sorry,” Hinata pouts, his hair visibly deflating under his sympathy. “I love your cat! You always take the best pictures of them!”

“Oh, thanks, Hinata.” Your smile turns wobbly as you face the first year and you glance up at the ceiling to try and hold back any tears.

“Do you want me to go with you to the vet? Or we can hang out after school to get your mind off of it?”

“Hinata, I really appreciate it, but aren’t you only procrastinate to find a way to get out of doing your homework.” You tease him and gently flick his forehead, to which the younger player’s nose scrunches up in denial.

“No, of course not! Tsukishima is going to help me study!” Hinata almost screeches, desperate to get you to believe him.

“Is he really?” Your disbelief must be apparent on your face, judging by the dejected sigh from Hinata you must’ve caught him right in the lie.

“No."

The rest of the day followed as normal, it was as if nothing had changed but you still had that impending feeling of dread clouded over you.

Well, your day wasn’t completely normal. Even your shyer first years had come up to speak with you, Kageyama and Tsukishima had even gone as far as to mutter their condolences without so much of a hint of sarcasm.

It seemed as if you were still surrounded by the same level of chaos that you were already accustomed to. Except, Nishinoya and Tanaka’s screams in your ear were much quieter than normal.

Your entire team knew something was going on and were all going to support you through it.

Seijoh

“(Y/N)?” Kindaichi gently calls out your name, poking his head around the corner when he hears your quiet sobs. “What’s wrong? Are you okay?” He timidly tries to reach out to you but is too unafraid to say the wrong thing or do the wrong thing to upset you even more.

Kindaichi has no idea of what to do when someone is crying.

“Obviously not.” Kunimi sneers and judgmentally glares at his friend, his overall face softens when he looks back at you. “(Y/N)?”

“I heard my poor manager’s sobs from a mile away! Baby, what’s wrong?” Oikawa pushes past his underclassmen dramatically, skillfully dodging a hit from Iwaizumi when the pet name leaves his lips. The setter sits right next to you on the bench and wraps his arms around your shoulders before pulling you into his chest, the warmth of his chest melts all of your resistance away and you can’t help but sob into his chest.

It’s a few minutes before you can pull yourself together, to even form a coherent sentence.

Iwaizumi sits on the other side of you and gently rubs your back while the two first years had run to find their other upperclassmen.

“My cat,” You start out, trying your best to swallow the sob in your throat. Even as tears well up in your eyes you try to push through it, just to get it out. “she has to be put down.” Although your voice is soft and just barely above a whisper, it still echos in the empty hallway.

“I’m so sorry, (Y/N).” Iwaizumi speaks up and nearly flicks off Oikawa when he notices his captain tearing up. “You know we’re always here for you whenever you need it.”

“Always, always!” Oikawa sobs, finally breaking as he wraps his arms around you even tighter. He practically squeezes the life out of you and refuses to let you go.

And as much as Iwaizumi loves to tease Oikawa for being so sensitive, as the cancer he is, he can’t help but appreciate the sympathy he is able to deliver.

“We’ll be there any day that you need it.”

Iwaizumi and Oikawa are, they follow through with their words, and even rope in Matsukawa and Hanamaki. The other third years don’t even have to be asked when the situation is explained to them, they’re there before Oikawa can even notice it.

“Be graceful.” Oikawa lowly warns with a brightly fake smile, narrowing his eyes at his friends. “We have to be helpful to our manager.”

“Obviously, dumbass.” Iwaizumi spits out and pushes past him to ring your doorbell, patiently waiting for you to answer your door.

“Iwaizumi?” You furrow your brows as you open the door wide enough for just your face to be seen, the wider it grows the more people come into your view. “What are you all doing here?”

“Moral support!” Oikawa pouts as he offers you a hug, one that you gratefully accept. Matsukawa places his hand on Oikawa’s shoulders and leans in just enough for the setter to hear what he has to say.

“Real graceful.” After he pats his shoulder, Matsukawa enters your house with his other friends trailing behind him.

“Do you want something to eat?” Hanamaki offers as he quickly finds himself in your kitchen. “You’ve eaten lately, right?”

“Umm, sorta?” You have to drag Oikawa further into your home and blink away the fresh tears pooling in your eyes once you notice just how quiet it is. “it’s fine.”

“Here, here, they’ll make you something~” Oikawa coos and pushes you onto your couch before sitting down right beside you. Hanamaki has to bite back the insult that is simmering on his tongue.

“As much as I hate to admit it, he’s the best at comfort.” Iwaizumi whispers quietly, trying to keep his glare in front of him and not on his best friend. “Let him do his thing.”

“His thing? You mean sympathy?” Matsukawa nearly rolls his eyes and goes down to sit beside you on the couch.

“I’m sure she loved you very very much, (Y/N)! You always had so many stories about her and so much history together!” Oikawa tries to reassure you and places his hands over the tops of your own. “You can tell me more stories, oh, or let’s name a holiday after her!”

“So good at comfort.” Hanamaki coughs and ducks the moment Iwaizumi swings at him, almost fighting back with the spoon in his hand.

“(Y/N), it was her time and that’s okay, you know that right?” Matsukawa asks you, staring intently at the side of your face as you numbly stare ahead. All you can muster is a weak nod as you feel your throat tighten up and tears stubbornly pinching at the corner of your eyes. “She loved you very much and will be okay, she’s doing better now.”

“I understand, Matsukawa.” You shakily whisper and are unable to swallow the sob in your throat. “It’s just hard without her.”

“I know, (Y/N).”

Oikawa whimpers quietly beside you and pulls you into his chest as he tries to hide his teary expression from your view.

“We will make a beautiful garden for her! Or, or name a street after her!” The captain can’t stop himself from trying to help come up with a comforting memorial, something to help you grieve.

“Whatever it is that you pick (Y/N),” Iwaizumi finally comes into view and pushes an ice cream sandwich to you as an offer. “we’ll be here to help support you. Forever how long you need.”

“Always, (Y/N)!” Hanamaki yells from your kitchen as Matsukawa gently tugs on your sweater.

“For now,” Iwaizumi pauses before taking a seat on your floor. “why don’t you tell us some of your favorite memories while Hanamaki finishes cooking what he thinks to be your favorite dish.”

“It is their favorite! They told me themselves!” Hanamaki retorts back, defending himself as Matsukawa lifts his hand in a gesture meaning he can vouch.

“Or tell us funny stories about her.” Oikawa sniffles, smoothly wiping the tear off of his cheek. “Or we can watch your favorite tv show? Or we can go get your favorite snacks like a little trip down to the convenience store?”

“Whatever it is, (Y/N), we’ll do it.” Iwaizumi tells you firmly, looking you deep enough in the eye for you to know that he means every word of it.

@kiwibirdmother

[bloodorangesoup]

Work Song | B.B.

Request: Have you ever heard work song by hozier? It gives me such bucky vibes 🥺 like imagine him waking up from a nightmare & singing it to calm him down

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Word Count: 2.05k (this was supposed to be a drabble but I got carried away lol)

Warnings: Slight angst, fluff, bad singing (unless you can actually sing), Bucky being a big softy

My Masterlist

Notes: Anon you need to name yourself cause you obviously have good taste in music and I kinda want some moots on here. This song is so perfect for Bucky. I truly appreciate the suggestion, it gives me inspiration of what to write while procrastinating on works in progress <3

You were awoken when the sheets and comforter were yanked off of you, shocking you awake with the chill of the night air. You squinted your eyes open only to be faced with Bucky’s back as he was sat up in bed. You could see by the rhythmic curling of his spine that he was breathing fast and heavy, prompting you to sit up with him.

“Baby,” you groaned as you stretched your back and faced him, “you alright?”

His eyes stared forward, expressionless, until he snapped out of it and looked at you with a worried face. It was almost as if Bucky hadn’t even noticed you had sat up until he heard your voice. You wanted to kiss in between his eyebrows to smooth the lines that the furrow of them had formed. You leaned towards him and laid your hand on his back, feeling the expansion and deflation of his breathing, it had calmed a bit but you could feel the still rapid beating of his heart. He opened his mouth for a second, hesitating before releasing a breath and answering.

“Yeah, yeah. I’m okay. Sorry I woke you up. There's still a couple hours left before you have to get up, lay back down.” He said, motioning with his head towards your pillow. You simply shook your head and dragged your hand from his back up to his neck and around to his cheek. He leaned his head into your cupped palm, closing his eyes at the comfort your touch gave him.

“Can we cuddle then?” You asked, more for him than you. It was an unspoken declaration in the air of “you’re a terrible liar,” but by now in your relationship, Bucky knew that if he wanted to talk about his nightmares, you were always there and ready to listen. If he didn’t want to talk then you could at least try to get him back to sleep or calm his nerves.

He answered you with a nod. You grabbed his pillow and stacked it on top of your own, giving you a cushion to comfortably lay down with your back slightly elevated. He understood what to do and without hesitation crawled over to you and wrapped his arms around your torso, laying halfway on top of you and resting his cheek on the top of your breast, right over your heart. Both your bodies shifted a few times until they found the perfect interlock with each other, sinking down into the bed.

“Do you remember that song I showed you the other day, the one you said you really liked?” You didn’t know where you were trying to go with this conversation, but you figured that getting him sleepy again would be hard, so talking about whatever came to your head might help put him down. Bucky could feel the vibrations of your voice all throughout your chest. He wished in that moment that the two of you could stay like this forever, that he could feel your sweet voice like this for the rest of his life.

“The “take me to church” one?”

“Yeah, that one. The dude who sings that has another song I really love, it makes me think of you whenever I hear it.”

“What’s it called?” He mumbled weakly. You gave him a squeeze and continued.

“Work Song.”

“Hmm,” Bucky hummed against your chest, waiting a moment before speaking, “could you sing it for me, doll?”

“If you want, but I can’t promise it’ll sound pretty,” you answered with a breathy chuckle. You wanted to comfort Bucky, but you definitely weren’t a singer. It was difficult enough to be in tune with songs, you weren’t sure you could even manage with half his body resting on you.

“It doesn’t have to sound pretty, if you sing it it’ll be perfect. Please?”

It took Bucky a long time to be okay with asking for things and accepting that receiving favors didn’t equate to weakness. You knew that him asking you to do this for him was hard and you weren’t going to let him down.

“Alright.” You cleared your throat and breathed in before exhaling quickly, cutting the words out of your mouth as your brain tried to think of how the song goes.

“Well, it starts with a low piano note and this soft clap, and there's a harmony that goes ‘hmmm, hmm mmm’ and then another clap and ‘hmm mmm’,” you explained, emphasizing every clap with a light tap if your hand on his back. You looked down at him and lifted your other hand, weaving yo fingers through his hair to gently move back and forth over his scalp. You looked back up to the ceiling with your eyes open, imagining how the stars would look if the roof was gone.

“And that part goes on for a bit…” you said into the silence of the room. As you explained, Bucky had shifted his head to rest the underside of his chin flush against your chest and looked up at you. Due to the way your face looked up he couldn’t see it completely, but he could see how the light of the moon pouring into the room cast a glow across your cheekbones and jaw. He watched as you fumbled through the intro, trying to explain to him how the different sounds come together, and he swore you had never looked more beautiful.

He drank in the way the hums of the song rattled under his chin, how you would pause for a few moments trying to think of what came next in the song. He felt your heartbeat against his throat and the rise and fall of your chest with every breath you would take before letting out another hum. He was right, you could be singing any song and it would be perfect.

“And then he starts singing, he goes,” you took in a breath before singing.

“‘Boys, workin' on empty

Is that the kinda way to face the burning heat?

I just think about my baby

I'm so full of love I could barely eat’

“‘There's nothin' sweeter than my baby

I'd never want once from the cherry tree

'Cause my baby's sweet as can be

She give me toothaches just from kissin' me’.”

He noted how the corners of your mouth tilted upward at that last line. You weren’t singing it exactly as the song went, the melody was a bit off and the pitch was much lower than it was supposed to be, but Bucky felt like every word you sang floated out into the world, carrying its refreshing life and coolness into his soul.

“And then there's this really deep bass note that hits and then the chorus goes,

“‘When, my, time comes around

Lay me gently in the cold dark earth

No grave can hold my body down

I'll crawl home to her’.”

Bucky thought of how he always seemed to crawl back to you. For once, he didn’t feel guilty for his presence in your life. He relished in the feeling of having you under him, in the knowledge that of all the people in the world, you would let him crawl home to you. If he had to crawl to someone, he would thank any and all higher powers that it was you.

“And then the song gets lighters and the hums come back,” you mumbled.

“‘Boys, when my baby found me

I was three days on a drunken sin

I woke with her walls around me

Nothin' in her room but an empty crib’

“‘And I was burning up a fever

I didn't care much how long I lived

But I swear, I thought I dreamed her

She never asked me once about the wrong I did’.”

Memories swirled around in Bucky’s head of all the times he felt like ending it all. He knew he was perfectly capable of doing it, but there was always a stubborn sliver of hope splintered in his head that prevented him from going through with anything. He didn’t like to think back to those times, but hearing the words leave your lips made it clear to him that you were the sliver of hope, some force of the universe had kept him around long enough to reach you and hold on. He closed his eyes and listened as you gently worked through the chorus twice more.

“‘My babe would never fret none

About what my hands and my body done

If the Lord don't forgive me

I'd still have my baby and my babe would have me’.”

Bucky’s brows furrowed as he thought of how unconditionally you cared for him. You weren’t blind to the troubles that came with loving someone like him, with accepting what he did and offering him sanctuary from himself. He didn’t know if he would ever be sure of the idea that he deserved love, but he was okay with being selfish if it meant having you by his side.

“‘When I was kissin' on my baby

And she'd put her love down, soft and sweet

In the low lamp light, I was free

Heaven and hell were words to me’.”

Tears had started to well in Bucky’s eyes. He looked up once again at your face, delicately bathed in moonlight, and thought of how he looked in the light, how you both looked together in the light. If you looked so beautiful and lovely, maybe he could too. He didn't feel exposed or ugly, he felt safe, he felt free. He was overwhelmed with emotion. His heart was pounding and he was choked up, he had never felt as completely and dramatically in love with you as he did in that moment.

You wrapped up the song, carrying it out with the same hums and claps that brought it in. Looking down, you saw Bucky’s face buried in the space between your breasts and could hear a sharp intake of breath, indicating that he was crying. You ran your hand that had been tapping his back up and down his spine. You took your hand from his hair and used it to push his disheveled hair out of his eyes and off his forehead, causing him to look up at you.

To Bucky, you looked like an angel. You both laid in silence, looking into each other's eyes, while Bucky simply hugged you closer and let his tears fall freely. You leaned down and placed a few gentle kisses on his forehead. He finally settled his breathing and sniffled a few times before speaking, he was ready to talk.

“I’ve killed enough people,” he sniffled before continuing, his voice croaky, “I’ve killed enough people to give me nightmares for the rest of my life.” He sighed and closed his eyes, feeling too shameful to keep looking at you.

You sank down lower in the sheets and tightened your hold on him, bringing his face and body up and closer to you.

“I’m so sorry, Buck. I wish there was more I could do.” You finally let go of the few tears building in your eyes, letting them roll down your cheeks to the corner of your lips.

“You’re here. You love me. That’s all I need,” he let out with a sob. You nodded your head and tugged on his body, signaling to him to come up.

He shifted himself higher in the bed, his face coming parallel to yours. You snaked your hand around his neck and craned him to look into your eyes. You observed the glassiness of them and how it accentuated the bright blueness within them. You thought of how, even when he was sobbing, he looked more beautiful than ever.

“I love you so much, y/n” he whispered with shaky breaths.

“I love you too, Buck, more than anything.”

You pulled him completely into you, your swollen lips gliding against one another, mixing your salty tears. You brought your hands to the sides of his face, rubbing your thumbs over his cheekbones, feeling how beautiful he was even with your eyes closed. You both pulled back slowly, only far enough to rest your foreheads together.

“I love you.”

[childish-ish]

Yoo! *hands you subway sandwich* I absolutely loved the soulmate AU with Micheal making choices for each other. And I was wondering (if you can/want) what would it be like for Billy Lenz.

hii *fucking devours subway sandwich* thank u so much i love u <3 i would love to write for him! sorry if hes ooc :<

sorry it took so long too, i thought it said lOOMIS AND I LOOK BACK AND IT SAYS LENZ LMFAAAOOOOOOOO then i procrastinated xd its super awkward and weird, im sorry!! i tried- i was on major fucking writers block!!

bro u made me eat a bug dont talk to me

soulmate au.. makin choices fo eachother..

billy lenz x reader

also, just imagine like. a party right before christmas and they dont call the police to help them rather do it themselves, but then 1 girl calls and they're on their way at the end.. ya dig? ALSO I KNOW ITS HIS HOME BUT I DIDNT HAVE AN IDEA SO xd

"Hello?" You answer the phone politely, looking over your notes before closing the book as you wait in silence for a reply on the other line. "Hellooo?" You drag out the 'o' in hello.

"Y/n? Hey, hows'it going. Listen i have this party goin' on and I know you don't have jack-shit to do, so, why don't you come on over?"

Barb! Ah, that bitch.. should i? You thought over the pros and cons as Barb waited impatiently on the other line.

soulmate chooses: go to party.

"Yeah, I'm coming. Streets?" You ask, opening your notebook back up, flipping to a blank page as Barb told you the address. You hang up on the girl and rip the piece of paper off, holding it between your teeth as you lift yourself from your cushioned chair, grabbing your coat that hung on the back and quickly stuffed the address in the pocket of your coat.

eat bug or do not eat bug.

You furrow your eyebrows at the choices. Before choosing 'do not eat the bug'. What the fuck?

Of course you would choose not to eat the fucking bug. You weren't a dick. But your fucking soulmate was. You were totally gonna beat their fucking ass for choosing such choices.

You sigh, grabbing your coat on the way out. Your necessities jingling in your pockets of said coat. You shove your hand in, dragging out your keys, turning around to lock your door. Sighing once more, as you enter your car and start the ignition. You pull out the address. "Can't be too hard, can it?" You mutter, finally pulling out of your driveway.

"Hello!" You wiggle your fingers as a small wave at the unrecognizable woman who opened the door. "Hello." Sge greeted back softly. "Are you a friend of Barbs'?"

"You betcha!"

"Well, I'm Jess! It's a pleasure to meet you.. come on in!" Jess opened the door wider. You see a few other girls chatting lively. A glass or a beer bottle in their hands. You follow Jess.

"Y/n! You made it! Good job." Barb greeted you, immediately handing you a beer you watched her pop open. You grab it, took a gulp, and thanked her.

You spot an ant crawling on the counter by you. Jess and Barb began to argue softly. Background noise.. You debate on whether to wipe it up and eat it. You shake your heads of the thoughts to rid of the possibility of your soulmate choosing-

eat the ant.

You growl under your breath, crushing the ant under your index finger and wiping it off on your tongue. You swallow it with your spit.

Im totally beating my soulmates fucking ass.. you thought angrily, chugging the rest of your piss-tasting beer. Chug, chug, chug! You cheer yourself on.

soulmate chooses: chug.

You chuckle before downing the rest of your cheap beer. Barb hands you another wordlessly. A smirk planted on her lips as she watches you down another.

"You should really slow down, Y/n."

"Eeh come on, Jess." Barb rolled her eyes, tossing an empty bottle into the trashcan. "Her soulmate probably made her chug." Barb defends poorly.

"I suppose.. how about you chug some water?"

"Yeah.. that'd be best. I'm already feeling a fucking buzz!" You laugh, being the lightweight you were.

Soon. You had awoke in a extremely comfortable bed with a small headache.

"It's so quiet.." You mutter to yourself. Dragging your hand over your face before quickly pulling away, realising you already had acne that was beginning to sprout. You stare at the ceiling, glancing at the window. Still night-time. You turn your head to the nightstand. The lamp was on. A small glass of water.

"Awh." You smile at the thought of one of the girls leaving a cup of water for you, quietly closing the door behind them. You immediately sit up and chug the water, tossing in the two pills that lied on a small napkin right next to it. You swallow, lathering the pills up in your spit.

You stretch your arms over your head, before falling back onto the plush mattress layered in bedding. You sigh, before finally deciding that it was time to get up and see what was going on downstairs. If you were even upstairs.. you cant tell. Maybe you were downstairs? You continued your train of thought as you closed the door behind you politely. Not bothering to take the glass with you.

You continue down the stairs, hand sliding down the railing as you slowly step down each step, before noticing the sticky, yet not sticky liquid your hand laid in. "The fuck? Strawberry syrup, L-O-L." You lift it up to your lips, licking. Clearly not thinking as the taste registered.

"Pennies. Blood? Oops." You wipe your fingers off on your shirt, quickly continuing down the stairs. "Baaarrrb?!" You call out, awkwardly. "Oh. Who's the shit-face drunk lying on the floor." You step closer towards the dining area. "Barb? You fucking drunk." You snicker.

soulmate chooses: kick her.

You do so. Not like you had any choice yourself. Kicking her lightly in the stomach, you step away. "What the fuck?!" You shriek, slapping the hand that was placed in your shoulder. You turn around to face a rugged man in a dark sweater and black pants. no shoes? Yet socks on his feet.. "Who are you?!"

The person before you didn't answer before lifting up a single hand thay held a.. glass unicorn? The tip of the horn was covered in a red substance. You could only assume strawberry syrup once more.

"Murderer!" You shriek, grabbing the lamp next to you and chucked it at the offending man who barely dodged it. He screamed back in response before lunging at you; successfully tackling you to the carpet rug.

"I can't believe you, are my soulmate.. well no, i can." You place your index finger on your chin in a thoughtful manner as you stare at the ceiling. "Are you?"

"billy made you eat an ant." he snickers horridly in your ear.

As, Billy, with the biggest cock known to man, squabbled and licked the shell of your ear, muttering about pigs and boobs and pussies, you nod to yourself.

"I can just hand you over to the police, no problem." You hug yourself. "But could I, really? My soulmate. Who has killed people.. Barb. God, you fucking cunt!" You screech, rolling away from him, just to jump back on the wide-eyed motherfucker, wrapping your hands around his neck and your cunt being right over his crotch. Haha.

He gasped for air, short, uneven nails scratch at your hands.

Tables were turned, and you were back on the floor with Billy over you, screaming out profanities.

"I'm sorry, Billy." You apologize falsely. Tears streaming down to your ears, since, you were on the floor.. gravity? "You killed my friend, man. I didn't even know her that long!"

Billy leans over and licks the tears away. You flinch away, before he pulls you into his lap awkwardly, his head dipped down into the crevice of your neck and sniffed loudly before giggling to himself.

"Billy's pretty little pig. Billy's. Pretty pig. Pretty cunt. Pretty, pretty, pretty." He mutters, an odd sense of nostalgia washed over you, catching an odd scent that activated said nostalgia.

"Move bitch. Let me get fucking comfortable." You snap, pulling out of his hold and turning your body around to face him. Crotch to crotch as you wrap your legs above his own.. does this make sense? You wrap your legs around his and he crosses his legs, wrapping his arms around you tightly as you fiddle with his hair.

"Man, you are such a fucking dick. Making me do all those fucking things while i chose nice things for you.." You lay your head on his shoulder. Very much stinky, yes.

"We should dip though. Didn't one of the girls call the police while yo' dumb-fucking-ass was suffocating one?" You pull away, getting a good look at his face.

You wouldn't say he was.. handsome.. but you certainly wouldn't say he was ugly. His skin was.. a sickly pale yellow. His.. fuckimg huge brown eyes stared at you. His cracked lips were curled into a unnerving smile.

soulmate chooses: leave.

"Yeah. Let's go." You stand, offering him a hand.

Billy's blood coated calloused hand makes contact with your own. You gag, covering your lips with your free-hand. "Fucking disgusting." You mutter in disgust, enduring it for the sake of your new partner.

You shove Billy in the back of your car, slamming the door shut and sprinting to the other side, just to slip right before you put your hand on the door.

You swing it open angrily, sitting down and starting the ignition, ignoring Billy's giggles and mutters as he peers out the window like a little kid looking at snow for the first time.

break the window or tap obnoxiously.

You roll your eyes, the hint of a smile plastered onto your lips.

tap obnoxiously.

[violetsoju]

let’s go on a ride (where to)彡★

suna rintaro · fluff? · 3.1k

a/n: here’s a cookie for you if you can guess correctly from which song i got inspired by 🍪 (hint: it’s from a female soloist!) do let me know if you enjoyed it!  ❤️

The first time you got on his bike was when you were late for your finals. Being the ironically procrastinator and overachiever you are, you dunked 3 cups of coffee the previous night in attempt to stay up drilling pages and pages of chemical processes and reactions, along with the insane number of structures and behaviours of molecules that seemed to stretch on forever into your poor cramped brain. So when you woke up to your clock staring at you with its long hand 20 minutes away from the scheduled time of your doom, you knew you were indeed, doomed. Your shouts and failing hands to the bus driver fell on deaf ears, leaving you gasping for air, hands on your knees as you reached the now empty bus stop.

You were about to make a run for it when a motorbike pulled up beside you, a male voice catching your attention. “Hey.”

You turned to see fox-like eyes staring back at you, one which had you intrigued since the first encounter. Even though his other features were hidden beneath his helmet, the boy clad in black on the bike was undoubtedly, your next-door neighbour.

“Get on my bike, let’s go.” he said, throwing a helmet in your direction.      

Despite living right next door, the both of you never had a conversation with each other. You don’t really see each other too, in your defence. Normal greetings would just be a small nod of acknowledgement, sometimes with a small ‘hi’ if you were feeling sociable enough.

But desperate times call for desperate measures, right?

“Where to?” he asked, as you climbed onto the back seat.

“Hyogo University, please.” You grabbed on the rail bar behind, praying that you won’t somehow fall off.

Maybe it was a blessing in disguise that you missed the bus, because weaving through unusual heavy traffic on two wheels was definitely more efficient than being stuck on four wheels. You yelped as you almost lost your balance from the zigzag drive, instinctively grabbing hold of his waist as you both zoomed past the congested roads.

Never in your life had you been so happy and relieved at the sight of your university. Jumping off the bike, you were about to sprint to your faculty when you stopped midway at your tracks at his call.

“Hey! My helmet!”

Turning back meant risking having the examination doors being slammed in your face. “I’ll return it to you later!” you shouted, waving the back of your hand towards him as you dashed to your examination venue.

Later that night, the boy found the sides of his lips tugging upwards slightly, huffing a breath from his nose in amusement at the sight of his helmet hanging on doorknob of his apartment. It was filled with packets of choco pie and a small yellow note in it.

「 Thank you so much for today! I got to my examination venue right on time thanks to you. Please let me know when you’re free. I’d like to treat you to a meal as a gesture of appreciation, these treats obviously aren’t enough.

-Your next-door neighbour 」

He opened a packet of choco pie and folded the small piece of paper neatly into the pocket of his jeans, making his way into his apartment.

Your eyebrows arched in surprise when you locked your front door the next morning. There was a small green note stuck on your door, along with a box of chocolate koala march biscuits secured tightly with tape.

「 It’s not a big deal. Now we’re even, so save that for something else. 」

                                     ─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

 The second time you got on his bike was on the way home from your job interview. You knew your heels were to go, and you should have gotten a new pair soon. But being the last-minute shit you were, you prayed with all your heart for it to survive on you till the end of the day.

Well, to be fair, it did cooperate with you for most of the day, besides than the awful blisters on the back of your heel and toes. It only gave up on you after the interview that went wrong (allocated interview slot being postponed and postponed, the central air-conditioning blasting like the North Pole, and what was it with companies and their ridiculous prejudice towards young women and maternity leaves), when your right heel got stuck in a sewage drain cover, snapping into half when you used too much force to get it out.

Then it rained. And of course, you left your umbrella at home as there were no indications of rain when you checked the weather forecast. Maybe the rain felt like giving the sun, along with the weather bureau, a surprise that day.

And maybe it felt like it had its fair share of fun after seeing your miserable state, drenched in its merry little splatter and your own infuriation, as it bid the sun goodbye and went back home once you got off the bus to your neighbourhood.

So here you were, walking barefoot on the scorching yet damp concrete pavement back home, adding more damage to your open wounds. Well, what other choice did you have? It’s not like you would break the other heel into half to balance it out, right?

The stares and hushed whispers around you couldn’t much compare to what was going through your mind now. Heck, you couldn’t even care less of how you looked. Smudged makeup and faint colour of your innerwear peeping beneath your now see-through white blouse were the least of your worries now. All you wanted was to get home, fill the tub with warm water, turn on some music, and let all the frustration built up in you sink away through the evening.

Walking around the last block of shops, you kept your eyes on the pavement, not noticing a familiar figure leaning against the wall a few shops ahead.

“Hey.”

You were so absorbed in your own thoughts, you didn’t realise a human wall up ahead.

“Hey!”

You winced at the sudden impact from the body slam, snapping up to find a boy around your age towering over you, alluring fox eyes meeting yours. “Sorry,” you muttered, stepping aside to continue on your way.

A warm hand grabbed hold of your arm, causing you to jump slightly at the sudden touch. He had his head tilted slightly to his left, his usual blank face staring back at you. But the hint of concern that subtly flickered in his eyes as he silently inspected you from head to toe made you stop in your tracks.

Maybe it was the series of incidents that happened throughout the day that had your mind spiraling in turbulent directions, or maybe it was the delicate warmth in his eyes that seemed so inviting, it wasn’t a bad idea to linger in it for a while. Whatever the reasons were, he was granted the rare permission to take a small peek through the faint cracks of your hardened shell, into the dark fiery void that held you hostage.

You kept your eyes glued on the ground as he kept his gaze on you, curling your bruised toes together against the hard concrete, contemplating if you made the right decision.  

Once he was done with his inspection, he moved towards his bike parked by the side of the pavement, grip still on your arm, and dug out for an extra helmet underneath the seat of his bike. He placed the helmet over your head, featherlike fingers brushing against your skin as he secured the straps around your chin gently.

“Get on, let’s get home.” he said, tapping the top of the helmet as if he was patting a little girl’s head.

The journey home was silent, in a comfortable way, and you were grateful that he kept his curiosity to himself.

He dropped you off at the lobby entrance of your apartment, nodding in acknowledgement as you returned the helmet while mumbling an audible thanks. You should’ve waited for him to take the elevator back up to your floor together, but you were just so bloody done for the day. At least you pressed the ground floor button as you exited the elevator.

                                         ─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

 The third time you got on his bike was after dinner one night. You were at the nearby convenience store in your pjs, a bowl of hot oden in hand, staring out at the night through the glass window. Late night convenience store runs were the best, because most people would be snuggled up in their homes, leaving the world to those like you to enjoy in peace in quiet.

You were on your third fish cake skewer when an unexpected presence made its way next to you. Gleaming hazel eyes locked with yours, and you found yourself unconsciously lost in it again.

He placed a plastic bag filled with an assortment of jelly fruit sticks on the table, savouring a purple coloured one in hand. You chuckled at this new side of him. This wasn’t quite something you pictured him to be.

He turned to you questionably. “Is there a problem?”

You shook your head. “Not at all, I’m just surprised with this new information.” You offered a fish cake skewer to him.

He gave you a green coloured jelly fruit stick in return. “There’s no age limit for these, are there?”

“Nope, you’re more than welcome to enjoy them,” You peered at the plastic bag. “Can I have the red one instead?”

“Picky.” he jokingly huffed.

The both of you enjoyed the rest of the night by the windowsill, making comfortable small talk here and there.

It was past midnight when you both made your way out of the convenience store. “Do you usually walk back alone at this time?” he asked, rummaging his pocket for his bike keys.

“Yeah, but not to worry, I can protect myself quite well. Ain’t no damsel in distress.” You jiggled your self-defense kit attached to your house keys at him.

He hummed in agreement, handing you a helmet. “My younger sister has a set of that too. That pepper spray is no joke.”

“What did you do to piss her off?” You fastened on the helmet strap nimbly, climbing onto the now familiar backseat.

“I was her guinea pig to test if it worked. And damn it worked well. 5-star rating.” The bike engine roared, muffling your laughs and off the both of you went in the night.

You furrowed your brows when he drove past by the turn to your apartment. “Hey, you missed the turn!”

“Buckle up, we’re going on an adventure.”

Apparently, his so-called adventure was to the neighbourhood hilltop which you had never dragged your lazy ass up to hike before. There wasn’t much to see in the dark surroundings, maybe it would be better in the day.

“For a moment I thought you were gonna abduct me or something.”

“By a guy that eats jelly fruit sticks at this age? Plus, you’re not even worth a bag of jelly fruit sticks.”

He fake coughed as you shoved the helmet in his chest playfully in retaliation.  

The hilltop wasn’t that high, but high enough to overlook the charming neighbourhood below. Looking at your neighbourhood from a different perspective made you appreciate it more. The quaint coffeeshops, the now quiet primary school, the lush recreational park, they all looked so small from the top. So this is what birds see from the top, you thought.

Placing your hands on the wooden fencing, you closed your eyes for a moment to enjoy the cool breeze caressing your face, taking in a long, deep breath. Even the air up here was clearer.

You turned behind to find him lying on the grass with one knee up, arms folded behind his head, eyes on the black canvas above. You took your place comfortably next to him, mimicking his actions. A soft gasp escaped your lips, taken aback by the view displayed before you.  

Maybe it was the cold reality and gradual maturity along with age that had your mind conditioned to thinking only the glowing lights of the city lit up the dark night skies. Long had you forgotten the existence of the scattered diamonds shining up above; one that lit up the skies and your eyes as a child, one you dreamt of picking from the sky to replace the plastic fluorescent ones on the celling of your nostalgic childhood room.

It was simple pleasures like this that kept boundless curiosity and imagination run wild, that made each day enjoyable and fun, that made one realise how beautiful life could be.

And to remind one how important it is to live in the present.

“Do you know how to identify constellations?”

“I only know the name of my zodiac sign, if that counts.”

“No.”

You chuckled at the small pout that formed on his lips.

“Don’t you think it’s amazing how people in the olden days could navigate their way with just a few blinking dots in the night sky? I don’t even know how to use a compass.”

“That’s why we have Google maps now.”

“Can you be a lil bit more enthusiastic?”

“You can’t deny that what I said is true, can you?”

It was his turn to chuckle at your exasperated sigh.

“Have you seen a meteor shower before?”

“Yeah, once I think.”

“Did you make a wish?”

“I guess so.”

“Has the universe granted your wish then?”

“A secret shall remain a secret.”

You hummed in response.

Truth to be told, the both of you were keeping secrets from each other: your identities. Sure, you both knew each other as next-door neighbours, but what else?

Perhaps he has the upper hand here. He knows you’re a university student from the first ride on his bike, he (somehow) knows you’re searching for a job from the second ride, and now he knows your little late night konbini run affair. All you know about him is that he rides a bike and likes jelly fruit sticks.

But you don’t mind. In fact, you like this anonymity. It’s what makes the relationship between the two of you more engaging, precious and real. You could let down your guard with him. No judgements, no defensive barriers, no facades.

Sure, you would be curious about his background at times. Is he the same age as you? Is he a fellow struggling university student like you? Or has he plunged into the battlefield called work already? But if you could be you wholeheartedly, and he could be him wholeheartedly too, that’s what matters the most at the moment.

“Are you certain that you made your wish correctly?”

“Are there procedures for making wishes upon shooting stars?”

“Duh. You gotta look up to the night sky, close your eyes, clasp your hands together, then make your wish. That’s how it works.”

“You could shake hands with my younger sister and be sappy drama sisters.”

“Maybe that’s why your wish hasn’t come true yet.”

“I’m not falling for your trap.”

                                       ─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

 “Man, I can’t believe nothing came out from what I studied for the whole week. Nothing. My feelings have been cheated on.”

Atsumu and you were currently slumped over the table at the convenience store next to the university, each with a hotdog in hand, along with an array of snacks scattered across the table. The both of you had just finished your classes for the day, and instead of grabbing proper dinner, you both were stuffing yourselves with junk food like children.

As to quote Atsumu, “Where’s the joy in life in blindly following the rules? Rules were meant to be broken. And it’s not like we do it every day.”

“Giving up so quickly? What happened to the ‘new semester new me resolution’, huh.”

Atsumu slammed his face on the table, groaning in distress. “Everything’s a scam. Life is a scam.”

You huffed out a small laugh at his exaggeration, eyes riveting back to the bustling street outside the window. Groups of students making their way to the bus and train station, couples choosing their dinner place hand-in-hand after work, a line forming outside the newly opened sushi place that served sushi on a mini bullet train. A typical Thursday evening.

A familiar jet-black bike among the line of bikes lined up by the pavement in front of the convenience store caught your sight. Oh?

Your mouth must’ve worked faster than your brain as Atsumu looked up to face the same direction you were looking at. “What yer looking at?”

“Oh, Suna must be around here somewhere. Haven’t seen him in a while.”

Suna, huh. Nice name.

“That’s one sexy looking bike, isn’t it? I always wanted a ride, but dude always speeds off even before I have the chance. Treats it like his wife. Don’t think I’ve ever seen anyone one ride it besides him.”

“Poor you, it’s a really nice ride.”

“The engine sounds amazing too- Wait. Wait a hot second. You rode it before? How? You know Suna?” Atsumu’s energy switch was turned back on, eyes wide like saucers as you shrugged like it wasn’t a big deal.

“He’s my next-door neighbour, duh.” Atsumu swore he was so close to throwing hands at your nonchalant attitude on the matter.

“Speaking of the devil, there he is.”

Suna emerged from the bakery on the opposite street, a bag of freshly baked goods in hand. Crossing the busy road to your side of the street, a glint of surprise gleamed in his eyes at the sight of both of you through the window, mostly from the shock and betrayal expression of the blond. He nodded to Atsumu in greeting, which was replied with Atsumu barking questions at him from the inside.

“What the hell, Suna? We’ve been friends for so long and I’ve never had a ride before, and she gets a ride? Really, Suna? I thought we’re more than this-”

“You know he can’t hear you from outside, right?” Atsumu paused to stare at you for a moment, and continued shooting questions and making dramatic gestures to the boy grinning slyly at him outside.

Suna turned his eyes to you, tipping his head towards his bike. Wanna go home?

You gave him a smile. Yeah, sure.

You got up from your seat and shoved half of the snacks on the table into your bag. “Later, Atsumu.” You bid the blond goodbye, patting his shoulder in condolence as he gawked at the both of you like endangered animals in the zoo.

“Suna you lil shit.”

Maybe you weren’t only getting rides back home on his bike, maybe you were getting a ride into his heart too.

[jujutsubabe]

Library

Synopsis: (This is set when Gojo and Getou were in highschool) You are all in the library trying to practice presentations but Gojo can’t stop being distracting.

(I mean,,, no ship tbh? Kinda platonic reader insert but u can take it as Gojo flirting)

Word count: 1.7k

—————

A library is supposed to be silent, filled with studying and well focused people. It’s a place meant for peace and quiet, so everyone there can get a good grasp on their subjects without any distractions.

The library is known for being the best place to work in, you are surrounded by peers and books and computers of all kind. The amount of resources is unlimited, mixing alone and social time all into one setting, a beautiful design.

However, if you mix a quiet respectable place with three idiots, you tend to get the opposite of what a library is supposed to be.

The library was filled with your quiet snorts and giggles as you sat in the back of the room, you putting your hand over your mouth did nothing to silence you as you shook.

Gojo bit down on his lip as he tried to contain his laugh as well, waiting for the right timing to say another dumb joke.

You felt the stares of a few of your peers, but couldn’t help from giggling in your corner. It was one of those rare moments where you felt air escape your lungs in a good way, the crunching of your sides was a ticklish feeling. It was so carefree and fun, a simple memory you would keep every time you entered a library.

You turned to Gojo at the same time as him, trying to put on a serious face but when you saw his struggling one you couldn’t help but crack a huge smile and fall back into your lap cackling. He turned away snickering to his side as well.

You had been here for what felt like hours, you trying to go over your presentation but barely getting through the first slide with how Gojo suddenly wanted to be a comedian. Not letting you catch a break each slide.

It didn’t help that you were already behind in your presentation, he just fed into your procrastination. Making this workload ease into other hours of your day, it seemed like the only thing you could do for the day was work on this presentation.

Getou rested his chin on his hand, “You egg him on when you do that.”

“I know!” You wheezed, “But its so—so hard, I can’t focus.”

Gojo leaned in to whisper something else but Getou tilted his head, “Satoru, you’re a distraction.”

He pulled back, fixing his sunglasses with a wide grin. The class clown couldn’t help but make light of such a boring atmosphere, what was he even supposed to do in here? (Study Gojo… study…)

Picking on you two was way more fun than doing his fifty-billion already missing assignments.

“What?” He looked over his glasses, “It’s not my fault I’m this funny.”

“No, he’s right!” You took deep breaths, pulling into your center, “He’s right, let me try again and don’t distract me!” You pointed with a warning intent.

He grinned at you, playing on his innocent expression, which didn’t come across as very genuine.

It was like he called for attention to himself just by entering a room. No one could ignore him. So imagine how much harder it would be to ignore him if this giant ray of sunshine was sitting right next to you, pestering you every second.

“So,” you skimmed over your notes, “for this presentation, I wanted to research how the possible extinction of polar bears is such a condenen— conquential—conquista-- conse-”

“Are you trying to say consequential?” Geto asked.

There was a slight moment of silence, maybe half a second before, like a burst of a bubble, Gojo snorted and turned his head to the side giggling away. It didn’t help that his laugh was so contagious. It was like a yawn, when one person did it everyone else did.

Geto looked away, covering the slight curl of his mouth. He tried his best to be the mature one in the group but sometimes Gojo broke down that expectation with something as simple as giggling like a child.

Him trying to not smile mixed with Gojo’s actual laugh made it so much harder to not give in yourself. These two really couldn’t stop goofing around, no matter the situation.

You forced a frown, “Guys, It’s not funny!”

Gojo made a look at Getou, and Getou let out the lightest huff of air before shaking his head. “You’re right. Continue.”

“Thank you,” you cleared your throat, getting your notes in order, “I think it’s important to note that a big factor that could lead to their extinction are greenhouse gas em… emm...emnio—”

You squinted at the page, pulling it closer, you ignored Gojo’s pestering smile beside you. If you even looked at him you knew this would be all bad, he had a way of pulling you from work and not letting you get back to it.

Getou tapped the paper, “What’s wrong?”

You slid the paper to him, “I don’t know how to say that.”

He pulled the paper to his face with a slight frown. He blinked a few times, trying to not let confusion seep onto his face. With a little bit of inspecting, he eventually slipped the paper across for Gojo to help.

Gojo blinked back at the paper, a smile curling onto his face, “Is this your handwriting…?”

Getou hid his face while Gojo’s smile widened into a grin, then a chuckle, then a full on laugh, the both of them snickering onto themselves. You rolled your eyes, as Gojo banged his hand on the table like he saw the funniest thing on the damn planet.

These two were rolling over themselves over your sleep filled handwriting! It wasn’t even that funny!

You scoffed as the two went into hysterics over your handwriting, trying to fight off the smile crawling it’s way onto your face. It took so much to not give in.

It was all fun and games until a few students started to share a few looks from across the room. A few glared your direction, some actually leaving the place for a quieter place to study. No one seemed to enjoy your table's joy the same way you all were.

The three of you were being a nuisance to the quiet work environment, contradicting the point of a library with your presence. But why was laughing in the library more fun than laughing in your room with each other?

Was it the concept of breaking the rules that tickled you? Or maybe it was the hysteria of working on something for too long without breaks, forcing you all into taking a different kind of break.

None of you noticed when a select few students got up to talk to the teachers about you three. Whispering to the side and pointing a teacher your direction.

Your head popped up when you heard the light tapping of heels and keychains coming your direction. A more than pissed off adult looking straight towards your table.

You shook Gojo and grabbed his arm, “Dude shut up! Shut up the teachers coming!”

Before you could grab yourselves together, the teacher already arrived by your table, tapping on the desk until she got your attention. “I’m going to need you all to quiet down or leave. You’re being a distraction.”

Gojo quirked a brow, opening his mouth, but you spoke up before he said something disrespectful.

“Sorry.” You nudged the guy next to you, “We’ll be more quiet.”

She pursed her lips as she did a once over of you all, definitely memorizing your faces. You lot were making this poor lady do more than needed on her shift. She probably couldn’t wait until you guys messed up again so she could kick you out for good.

“Thank you.” She did a last sharp look before she eventually turned, walking away to the front desk again. Full hawk eyes on your table.

You turned around to the group, trying to regain composure. It was so awkward having her stare and know that you had to be on your best behavior. Everyone sat silently, no one even moving.

Until Gojo leaned back in his seat, twisting his head to look at you. You tried your best to not look at him…you could literally feel his stare through your head. He was insufferable.

…However, you couldn’t help the curiosity and slowly turned your head to meet his eyes. Just one look and his face flooded into a winced grin, already trying to hold back laughter with a squeaking sound from him.

With that, your composure broke and you released a set of giggles while Getou covered his mouth. Just like that Gojo won, he ate this attention up, releasing his own dumb fit of laughter.

You guys really couldn’t go a minute in silence could you?

Getou smiled and stood from the table, “Were not getting anything done. Let’s get food.”

You nodded, you were surprised it took this long for someone to realize that. This was a highly anticipated break you put off for too long, not realizing just how much time was wasted goofing off until now.

“I want ice cream!” Gojo slung your bag over his shoulder.

You blinked between the two as they gathered their belongings, starting to disperse from the table. You were still getting yourself together, scrambling with your things as the tall pair strided to the exit. “Guys wait up!”

They very much did not wait up, if anything it seemed as though their pace got quicker. (Gojo even looked back before grinning that sinister smile of his and walking faster.)

When you darted out of the seat, you just so happened to glance back at the table.

It had a few balled up sheets of paper under it, (that Gojo made and threw at the both of you) the chair’s weren’t pushed in, and if you looked closely you could see a few doodles sprawled along it.

For some reason, the table setting that would definitely piss off that teacher, made you smile. It showed proof that you and your friends had been there, that a few teens were messing around and having fun before they left.

Which you did, you made a good memory today. Those small moments of laughing at dust with friends, warmth from being so happy, comfort from having a tight bond.

It was all you needed, and all you wanted to remember anyways.

[hrina]

In The Ring, Pt. II - Cross

PAIRING: Harry x Reader RATING: M WORD COUNT: 7k REQUESTED: highly lol!

hi again! here’s PART 2 of boxer!harry :) thank u all for such a wonderful response on the first part, i can’t explain how much it means to me. i worked really hard on this chapter, so i hope u guys love it! if u do, reblogs and feedback are very much appreciated, and i’ll probably ask for ur hand in marriage in return.

warning: parts of this fic will contain mentions of blood, violence, mild stalking, and sexual content. if any of that makes you uncomfortable, please take care of yourself and keep scrolling <3

u can find the rest of this series on my masterlist, which is linked in my bio! my inbox is also there if you wanna spare a few thoughts about this part. love u guys sm, stay safe out there 💛💛💛

~*~

    January 19, 2021

It’s ten at night, and you’re curled up in bed, scrolling through social media. You should be doing the assigned readings for your anatomy class, but you’re procrastinating. Besides, watching video after video of cute kittens peeking their furry little heads out of cardboard boxes is a much better way to pass the time.

Your relaxation period is interrupted when a notification banner descends from the top of your screen. It’s an unknown number, but the content of the message makes your eyes widen in surprise.

Hi. It’s Harry. I’m at the gym.

You tap on the text immediately, waiting with bated breath as you’re taken to a different app. You chew on your bottom lip for a moment, thumbs hovering over the screen before they begin to type.

Hey! I’ll be there in twenty minutes.

Harry’s reply is short, concise, to-the-point—just like him. Oddly enough, it makes you smile.

Okay. See you soon.

~*~

The first thing that Harry notices when you walk through the door is that you’re slightly out of breath. He’s standing in the middle of the ring, his eyes fixated on the opposite side of the room as you enter. Your hair is tied up in a high ponytail, and you’re wearing a pair of leggings and a tank top under your jacket. Your sneakers squeak against the floor as you stride over to him, fingers wiggling in a friendly wave.

“Hi!” you call out, shooting him a kind smile.

Harry leans against the ropes circling the ring, careful not to put too much of his weight on the barriers lest he flip over and fall to the floor. It’s happened once or twice, and each time, he ended up with a bruised tailbone afterward.

“Hi,” he replies.

You shrug your coat from your shoulders as you draw nearer. “How are you?” you ask, peering up at him curiously.

“Good, thanks,” he says. His fingers toy absentmindedly with the silver cross pendant dangling from his neck. “Er…did you run here?”

“What? Oh, no,” you answer with a breathless laugh. “I drove. But I was hurrying—I didn’t want to keep you waiting.”

You’re so fucking sweet. He’s going to throw up.

“It’s alright.” He shrugs. “I don’t mind.”

“Still,” you say, tightening your ponytail with both hands. “You’re going out of your way to do this for me. And while we’re on the subject of that—thank you, again. I really appreciate it.”

“No problem,” Harry says. He slips between the ropes and hops down from the platform. “Shall we start?”

“We shall,” you agree, biting back a teasing smile. “Am I going up against you?”

Despite himself, Harry chuckles. He shakes his head. “Not yet. First, you need to learn the basics.”

“Basics,” you echo, nodding once. “Right.”

He leads you over to the side of the ring, where a pair of punching bags have been strung up near the wall. The arrangement is nothing special—twin leather bags, one brown and one black, filled with sand and stitched together with strong, coarse thread. Reflexively, you reach out, running your fingertips along the black bag and giving it a gentle push. It swings outward before returning back to you. Harry watches you closely, examining the gentle crease between your brows and the slight glaze that smooths over your pupils. He clears his throat quietly, and you seem to snap out of your trance.

“Do you know how to punch?” he asks.

You purse your lips, looking unsure of yourself. “Um…I think so.”

He nods. “Show me, then.”

The blow that you deliver to the bag is weak at best. Harry immediately notices a handful of things that you’re doing wrong. When you pull your arm back and peer up at him, he’s trying his hardest to hold back a smirk.

“What?” You frown.

“Nothing.” He snickers softly, shaking his head again. “It’s just…that was cute.”

“‘Cute’?” you parrot, narrowing your eyes. You scoff good-naturedly, stepping back and holding your arm out in invitation. “You do it, then.”

Harry’s lips twitch. “Gladly.”

The chain hanging from the ceiling rattles when his fist makes contact with the leather. The punching bag itself swings forward in an extraordinary arc before hurtling back in your direction. You gasp when Harry stops it with his palms. He grunts quietly, stilling it before turning around to face you. There’s a small smile playing on his lips, and he’s sure that his eyes are gleaming with a smug sparkle. You just cross your arms over your chest, gazing at him evenly with your chin held high.

“Fine,” you say. “Tell me what to do.”

Harry gets you situated back in front of the bag, standing beside you and studying your posture.

“First of all,” he starts, “you need to make sure that the position of your feet matches the position of your arms.”

“What do you mean?” you ask, shooting him a confused pout.

“Like this—,” Harry reaches for your shoulders before pausing, his fingers only inches away from your skin. “Er,” he clears his throat, fixing you with inquisitive eyes, “is it alright if I touch you?”

You nod wordlessly. Harry swallows down the lump in his throat as his hands close the distance between your bodies. He slants your torso to the side before reaching for your arms, bending them at the elbow so that your fingers—now curled into loose fists—are suspended in front of your face.

“If you’re angling yourself this way,” Harry starts, mimicking your stance, “you need to make sure that your right foot is leading you. But if you stand in the opposite direction—,” he changes sides, adopting a mirror image of his previous position, “—then it has to be your left foot. Got it?”

“Got it,” you say confidently. That same crease is digging into the space between your eyebrows; Harry aches to reach out and flatten it with the pad of his thumb.

“Also,” he says, delicately wrapping his fingers around your wrists, “when you punch, you can’t drop your other hand. Keep it up at all times—you need to guard your face.”

“Guard my face,” you murmur, mostly to yourself. “Okay, cool.”

You throw an experimental punch at the bag, and Harry doesn’t miss the shadow of pain that flashes across your features. His eyes trail down the length of your arm, lingering on your fist. Before you can deliver another blow, he stops you, catching your knuckles in the calloused valley of his palm and halting your movements.

“Keep your thumb on the outside,” he says, peeling your fingers open and freeing your thumb from beneath them. “You’ll break it, otherwise.”

He curls the digits back up, this time so that your hand is settled in the proper arrangement. He then steps back, jerking his head toward the bag and encouraging you to take another swing. “Try it, now.”

The third blow is better than the past two. You beam up at Harry when a promising smack! echoes through the air. He smiles reassuringly at you, nodding his head and tugging at the collar of his t-shirt. “Good. That’s a start.”

“Put me in, Coach,” you tease, bringing your fists up to your face and bouncing playfully on the balls of your feet. Your eyes shimmer as you peek at him from behind your knuckles. Harry presses his lips together to keep himself composed, but he can’t stop the faint snort that slips out of his nose. You laugh cheerfully, dropping your arms back to your sides.

“Okay, so I know how to punch,” you say. “What’s next?”

“There’s four main punches in boxing,” Harry replies. He steadies himself in front of the bag, his left foot extended to provide balance.

“The jab—”

He punches with his left fist, pointed and forceful.

“—the cross—”

He strikes with his right hand, driving the weight of his body into the blow.

“—the hook—”

He curves his arm, angling it accordingly so that he can deliver a hit to the side of the bag.

“—and finally, the uppercut.”

He bends his elbow, scooping upward so that his fist makes contact with the bottom half of the bag. The sand inside shifts audibly as it rattles around, looping in every direction and gathering momentum. Harry turns back to you as it continues to swing in circles, cracking his knuckles loudly and seeking you out.

Your eyes are wide. If he didn’t know any better, he’d think that you look a bit…enthralled. His brow furrows in confusion.

“You alright?”

“Yes,” you say immediately, and he’s taken aback by the breathless quality of your voice. You clear your throat quickly, scratching at your hairline and looking away. “You’re just very…dedicated. That’s all.”

“I’ve got to be,” Harry hums. He turns back to the punching bag and ceases its movements. “This is how I make a living.” His lips quirk up with the hint of a smile. “We can’t all go to medical school and become doctors.”

A weak laugh tumbles from your mouth. “I haven’t even gotten in yet,” you say from behind him.

“But you will,” he murmurs, the reply slipping out before he can weigh it on his tongue. “Without a doubt.”

He pauses when the words finally sink in, his shoulders stiffening and his eyes stamping shut. If you weren’t standing so close, he would have leaned forward and crushed his forehead into the rough leather of the punching bag. His lips mould around unspoken curses as a heavy silence descends upon the two of you.

At last, you finally choke out, “I—thank you, Harry. That’s really nice of you to say.”

“No problem,” he grunts. He steps back, spinning on his heel but refusing to meet your gaze. You’re probably looking at him like that—with soft, glimmering irises and earnestness woven through every cell in your body. If your eyes lock, he knows that he’ll be overrun with the urge to kiss you.

And he knows that if that happens, he might not be able to hold himself back.

“What time do you have to be home?” Harry asks, subtly trying to change the topic.

You lift one eyebrow challengingly, like you know exactly what he’s doing. Still, though, you humour him.

“I told my dad I was going to a friend’s house,” you say, shrugging lightly. “We have time, don’t worry.” You smile as a thought crosses your mind. “Just make sure you don’t get me too sweaty by the end of the night, okay? I can’t go home looking like I’ve just run a marathon.”

Harry’s cock twitches in his shorts at the thought of rendering you sticky and speechless. Of watching you walk away from him with wobbly knees and messy hair. Of dropping you off at home and nibbling on your neck one last time for good measure. He quickly shoos the temptations away, clearing his throat and nodding in accord.

“Minimal sweating,” he concedes. “I’ll try my best.”

Deep down, he knows that you’ll most likely be drenched with perspiration once he’s through with you. You’ll figure that out soon enough, though.

Harry makes his way over to the ring, snatching up a pair of gloves lying on the platform. He turns back around, tossing them to you and fighting a smile when you yelp in surprise. With an awkward flail, you manage to catch them in your arms. You shoot him a questioning look, lifting your eyebrows and waiting for an explanation.

“Put those on,” he orders, clapping his hands together once. “We’re gonna try to perfect your stance, tonight.”

“Why do I need to wear them, then?” you ask, gazing down blankly at the gloves nestled against your chest.

“You don’t need to, I suppose,” Harry says, shrugging. “But your knuckles will probably be destroyed by the end of the night.”

“Oh.” You make a face, wrinkling your nose up in distaste. “Okay, yeah—I’ll use them.”

He smirks, folding his arms over his chest. “We want to be careful, don’t we? Those are the steady hands of a future surgeon.”

You scoff, laughing gently at his quip. “Hopefully,” you say, a sweet smile playing on your lips. “Let’s just pray that I get the right grades.”

You will, Harry thinks, but this time, he bites his tongue to keep the sentiment contained. You’re smart, and you’re beautiful, and you’re kind. You’re perfect. I can’t stop thinking about you. I want to kiss you. I want to fuck you. I want to sleep next to you at night and prepare you breakfast in the morning. I want to make you laugh. I want to make you smile. I want to—

“Harry?”

He blinks. “Yeah?”

You fix him with a benevolent look. “Zoning out on me?”

“No.” He shakes his head, approaching you as you struggle to tug on one of the boxing gloves. His eyes fall to your hands and he reaches out, halting your movements with a gentle, “Let me.”

You peek up at him shyly as he guides your fingers into the glove. He keeps his gaze trained downward, avoiding your eyes. One of his rough palms grasps your elbow as he tugs the Velcro strip tight around your wrist. Once he’s done the same with the other one, he releases you and steps back.

“Thank you,” you say softly. He just nods in response.

“Make sure your feet are shoulder-width apart,” he says, and you spread your legs according to his command.

For a brief moment, the image of you separating your thighs to accommodate his hips flashes through his mind, but he squeezes his eyes shut and wills it away.

The rest of the night is painful—his cock grows stiffer and stiffer by the hour, spurred on by each sweet smile that you send his way. By the time you’re through with the session and bidding him goodnight as he locks up, he’s half-hard beneath his black shorts. He hopes that you don’t notice.

You shoot him a cheerful wave and drive away, and he watches before toddling over to his own vehicle. As soon as he slides into the driver’s seat, he releases a heavy, guttural groan, slouching forward and pressing his forehead to the crest of the steering wheel. Blindly, he sticks his key into the ignition and turns it, and the truck rumbles to life. A quick glance at the dashboard reveals that it’s well past midnight. Only then does he realise the extent of his exhaustion.

He backs out of the parking lot, pulling onto the main street and training his eyes on the road ahead. If he squints, he can still make out the red taillights of your car.

The journey back to his apartment passes in no time. Harry climbs sluggishly up four flights of stairs, tumbling into his home and pressing the door shut with one hand. He drags his feet down the hall and past the threshold of his bedroom, pausing only to rip his t-shirt from his torso before collapsing onto his mattress. Obscure silhouettes dance across his eyelids as they drift shut.

The last thing on his mind before sleep overtakes him is the gentle slope of your smile.

    February 21, 2021

One month and a handful of late-night sessions later, Harry finds himself inundated with guilt. He’s constantly plagued by memories of your virtual conversations—short, brief little interactions consisting primarily of him letting you know that he’s free to train that evening. Your responses, ripe with exclamation marks and prattles of gratitude. You’ve taken up the habit of texting him after each lesson, too, composing a quick thank-you message before shutting your phone for the night.

And Harry regrets everything—agreeing to teach you how to box, letting you know when he’s available to meet, encouraging you as your technique progresses. On several occasions, he’s considered breaking things off, telling you that he’s too busy, that you should be focussing exclusively on school instead of on how to throw a right hook.

But then you look at him like that. With bright, trusting eyes and open features and that easy, dazzling smile. And the wall that he’s been trying so hard to build back up—not that it was particularly robust to begin with—comes crashing down.

His match is set to start in fifteen minutes, and you’re not here. You have a midterm tomorrow—your father had mentioned it in passing. You’ve been holed up in your room all weekend, he said, permanently absorbed in the pages of your textbook.

And Harry’s nervous, because you’re his lucky charm. What the fuck is he supposed to do, now?

The minutes seem to fly by—before he knows it, he’s stepping out into the ring with the crowd’s thundering screams echoing in his ears. His opponent isn’t the biggest man he’s ever gone up against, but he’s definitely not scrawny. Harry’s maybe two inches shorter than him—under normal circumstances, the height difference wouldn’t have fazed him. But he’s already on edge due to your absence, so even the smallest observations are proving to be exceedingly disconcerting.

Looking back, he supposes that he should’ve known.

Doomed from the start, destined to fail—whatever you want to call it.

Point being, he loses. Horrendously.

And he’s not quite sure when they bring the stretcher out and peel him off of the floor of the ring, but he knows that it’s sometime after the second round. He blinks rapidly, fading in and out of consciousness as moisture trickles down the side of his face. Somewhere beneath the wooziness, he’s well aware that the match is over. Your father is standing over him, walking at a brisk pace to keep up with the two men carrying him out of the arena.

“What do you mean, he called in sick?” your father spits, his eyes alight with anger. “You couldn’t find anybody else?”

The man behind Harry’s head says something that he can’t quite discern. His response makes your father grit his teeth and pinch the bridge of his nose. He fishes his phone out of his pocket, punching in a number and bringing the device up to his ear.

A few moments later, his expression lights up, relief flooding his features. “Gioia? Yeah, hi…”

Harry’s vision fades to black.

~*~

“…going to have some strong words with the bastard that did this—”

“Gioia, please. That’s how the sport works.”

An outraged scoff. “Who the hell kicks a man while he’s down?”

No reply.

Harry drifts off once more.

~*~

When his eyelids flutter open, it takes a moment for him to regain his bearings. Through the blurriness of his vision, he sees a dim light hanging from the ceiling, bathing his surroundings in a pale white glow. He blinks rapidly, hoping that his sight will sharpen with each flutter of his lashes. There’s a dull pain throbbing against the right side of his torso, battering against his ribcage and pulling an agonized groan from his lips.

The low sound is met with a high gasp. Seconds later, a face is looming over his own. Harry forces himself to concentrate on the person’s features—kind, worried eyes, raised brows, and pretty, parted lips. His heart begins to gallop in his chest.

“Harry,” you breathe. A few gentle fingers card through his hair. The sensation of your nails against his scalp makes him shiver. “How are you feeling?”

“Peachy,” he croaks, his voice hoarse.

Despite the worry swimming around in your irises, you emit a shy laugh.

“Are you able to sit up?” you ask, pulling your hand out of his hair. He nearly whines at the loss.

“Think so,” he mutters. He places his palms flat against the surface beneath him—a bed, perhaps?—and pushes himself onto his elbows. The muted pain in his side flares fiercely, making him choke on his own breath. You reach out for him, setting one hand down on his shoulder while the other wraps delicately around his bicep.

“Easy, easy,” you soothe, tutting disapprovingly. “Be careful.”

“’M always careful,” Harry says.

“Yeah,” you reply sarcastically, nodding your head. “And that’s how you ended up like this, right?”

A short, wheezing laugh punches its way out of his lungs. “Touché.”

Once he’s sitting up, he takes note of the room—well, it’s not really a room. The only thing separating the two of you from whatever lies outside is a thin curtain drawn over what he presumes to be the exit. To his left, a single cabinet with multiple drawers stands only a few feet away. You’re both tucked into a little alcove in the wall, no bigger than a standard bedroom. Harry glances around, his gaze landing on a single plastic chair facing the bed. Everything is set up like a hospital room (but far less comfortable, and severely lacking in terms of medical equipment).

“Where’s Coach?” he asks, creases forming along his forehead.

“He went to go grab us some coffee,” you explain, your eyes scanning his face. “It’s late.”

“How late?”

“Nearly two.”

“Fuck.” His head snaps toward you. “Don’t you have a midterm tomorrow?”

“Yeah.” You chew nervously on your bottom lip. “But it’s fine.”

“No, it’s not,” he says, gritting his teeth and glaring at you sharply. “What the hell are you doing here?”

You recoil a bit at his harsh tone. “Your stupid medic took a sick day,” you tell him, your voice hard. “And my dad asked me to come in and have a look at you. Who knows where you’d be if I hadn’t shown up.”

Regret washes over him. He slouches back against the bed—it’s more of a cot, really—and blows out a heavy sigh. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have—”

“It’s okay.” You wave his apology away with a quick flick of your fingers. “Just…be quiet for a second, alright? I need to examine you.”

“Yes, ma’am,” he mutters under his breath. He doesn’t miss the way your lips twitch as the words sink in.

“Can you move to the edge of the bed?” you ask, gnawing on the inside of your cheek. “I need to see you properly, but I don’t want to make you stand just yet.”

“Sure.”

He shifts his body to the right, slowly dragging his legs off of the cot with a distressed wince. The floor is cold when his feet make contact with the ground, but he pays it no attention. He’s shirtless, clad only in the shorts he’d been wearing when he first stepped into the ring. He purses his lips and feels something stiff realign against his cheek. When he brings his hand up to his face, he finds a cottony piece of fabric taped onto his skin.

“What—?” He looks up at you in confusion.

“It was bleeding pretty badly,” you tell him. “I had to stop it, somehow.”

For the first time that night, he takes you in properly. You’re wearing a baggy t-shirt and a pair of grey sweatpants—it looks like the type of outfit that one would shrug on if they were in a rush to leave the house. Another pang of guilt jolts through his chest.

“What happened?” Harry croaks, pulling his hand away from his cheek.

“My dad told me that the other guy was wearing a bracelet,” you say; frustration drips from your words. “He didn’t take it off before the match started. It’s not a big cut, but it’s deep. You’ll probably need a few stitches.”

“And you know how to do that?” he asks, watching as you circle around the bed and approach the cabinet on the opposite side. He twists in an attempt to keep his eyes on you, but then grunts lowly at the ache that thrums against his side. When he looks down at his torso, he discovers a large splotch of blue and purple decorating the skin covering his ribs.

“I watched my mom do it back when my dad used to coach Artie,” you say absentmindedly, rifling through a few drawers and collecting the supplies that you need. You pause, your eyes clouding over with something forlorn. “Now that I think about it, that’s probably why I want to go into medicine. I think…it would’ve made her proud.”

“It would’ve,” Harry agrees.

He watches you carefully as you make your way back over to him, afraid of prying or saying the wrong thing. Your mother’s death had hit your family hard; he rarely hears you or your father mention her. But maybe that’s for the best—wounds can’t heal if they’re being ripped open time after time again. He would know.

You dump a handful of materials down onto the bed—disinfectant, cotton swabs, tissues, gauze, a needle, thread, and a pack of medical sutures. Harry swallows heavily.

“Do you mind if I…?” you trail off, pursing your lips timidly. Somehow, he understands exactly what you’re referring to.

“No, not at all,” he says. The words fall from his mouth a bit too quickly.

With no further preamble, he spreads his legs, and you step into the space made available between his knees. You lean to the side, reaching for the disinfectant and cotton swabs on the bed, but then nearly lose your balance in the process. Harry’s hand flies upward reflexively, settling on your hip to keep you steady.

You glance down at him with wide eyes, and he hastily removes his palm from your body. “Sorry,” he mutters, looking away.

“It’s okay,” you tell him, and is it just his imagination, or do you sound a bit…breathless?

“You’ve got a couple of scrapes on your face,” you continue. You clear your throat, uncapping the antiseptic and dipping a cotton swab into the bottle. “This’ll hurt a little.”

“It’s alright—fuck!” he swears, scowling deeply at the sting that blooms across his chin. You chew on your bottom lip, dragging the swab over his injuries with practiced, nimble fingers. His toes curl against the cold, concrete floor.

Once you’ve finished sterilising his minor wounds, you turn your attention to the massive bruise on his torso.

“Can I?” you ask softly, extending your arm but pausing only inches away from his skin.

He nods, not trusting himself to speak.

He fights back against a shudder when your fingertips ghost over his ribs. You hesitate, applying a bit more pressure and cringing when he groans. “Sorry,” you whisper, making a move to pull away.

“No,” Harry breathes quickly. He catches your hand in his, trapping your palm back against his side. Briefly, he notes the unmistakable softness of your knuckles, so different from his own. “’S okay. Do what you need to do.”  

You nod tautly, pressing your fingers against the bruise once more. Harry grinds his teeth together, trying his best to withstand the pain. You prod around for a few seconds, your brow furrowed in concentration. When you don’t appear to find anything worrisome, you sigh in relief and drop your arm so that it rests limply at your side.

“No broken ribs,” you announce quietly. “At least, not as far as I can tell.”

“That’s reassuring,” he jokes.

A weak laugh falls from your mouth. “I haven’t gotten into med school yet, remember?”

He chuckles. Your eyes suddenly darken, and an angry scowl curls along your lips.

“He kicked you while you were knocked out,” you murmur, shaking your head in disbelief. “Fucking asshole.”

Harry’s eyebrows fly upward, his mouth twitching at your vulgar words. You catch sight of his amused expression, but instead of mirroring it, your frown only deepens.

“It’s not funny,” you say. “He fought dirty.”

“This whole setup is illegal, baby,” he says. Neither of you comment on the pet name that slips out of his mouth. He hopes that you view it as part of an expression, and not a proclamation of his affection. “Fighting dirty—they don’t care about that. If anything, it just gives them one hell of a show.”

“Still,” you mutter, gluing your eyes to the discoloured skin covering his ribs. “He shouldn’t have done it.”

Harry smiles softly, reaching out and tucking two fingers beneath your chin. Your lips part in surprise, and he tilts your face up so that he can look at you properly.

“Thank you,” he says, his tone entirely sincere, “for taking care of me.”

Your throat bobs with a hefty swallow—he can feel it against his knuckles. You lift your hand up to his face, and for a moment, he thinks that you mean to stroke his cheek lovingly. But then you scrape your thumb over the bandage covering his cut, and he’s reminded that this doesn’t mean anything.

You’re here to stitch him back up—nothing less, and certainly nothing more.

“I’m not done yet,” you say.

The two of your drop your fingers at the same time. Harry clears his throat, trying to absolve the tension in the air. You seize some of the other supplies still strewn across the bed, laying them out properly before getting to work.

You’re diligent, removing the bandage on his cheek and using a few tissues to mop up the blood that immediately begins to drip downward, rolling over the jut of his jaw. He curses when you pass another cotton swab over his injury, screwing his face up at the smarting prickle of the antiseptic.

“I’m sorry,” you murmur absentmindedly, keeping your eyes trained on the wound. “We definitely don’t want this one to get infected.”

“Yeah,” he grunts, because he can’t exactly nod with your fingers probing around.

“This is going to be the worst part,” you warn, pulling back and opening the pack of stitches.

You unwind a piece of thread from its spool, taking the string between your lips and severing it with your teeth. Harry watches you closely, anxiety frothing in the pit of his stomach. In all of his years spent boxing, he’s only needed stitches once—the procedure hurt like a bitch, especially since there had been no anaesthetic available. He remembers the pain like it was yesterday, and he’s not looking forward to having to endure it again.

When you guide the first stitch through his skin, he balls his hands into tight fists. His lips tuck themselves into a thin line, and an agonized moan bubbles up in his chest. You squeeze your eyes shut for a brief moment; upon reopening, they glisten with unshed tears.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” you whisper. Your voice shakes.

“It’s okay,” Harry grits out. His blunt nails dig into his palms. “Keep…keep going.”

“A few more,” you babble; he’s not sure whether you’re trying to comfort him or yourself. “Just a few more.”

It takes you roughly fifteen minutes (you haven’t really had much practice, after all) to sew his wound closed with five stitches. It is by no means the cleanest application, but it’s not bad. You retrieve another cotton swab and dip it into the bottle of disinfectant, running it along the seam of his injury one last time. After that, you finally blow out the stale air that has accumulated in your lungs.

“Thank you,” Harry mutters. “Truly.”

“No problem,” you breathe. You busy yourself with gathering up all of the supplies, cradling them to your chest and making your way around the bed. As you dump everything back into the top drawer of the cabinet, you say, “Harry. Can I ask you something?”

“Go for it,” he hums. He’s nervous about speaking too animatedly, afraid to disrupt the work you’ve just done on his cheek.

“How long have you been boxing?”

He peers at you from over his shoulder, eyes following your movements as you return to his side of the cot and sit down next to him. “Er…,” he pauses, thinking, “…about ten years, now.”

“You started at sixteen?” you say, blinking in surprise.

“Yeah.”

“Oh.”

He smiles softly before remembering the sutures sewn into his skin. A beat of silence passes.

“Can I ask you something?” he questions.

You nod. “Of course.”

“Why did you want me to teach you how to box?” he says. You open your mouth—to feed him another lie, surely—but he carries on before you get the chance to speak. “And don’t say it’s because you were just curious, or some bullshit like that. I want the truth.”

“Harry…,” you begin softly, looking at him with pleading eyes. He shakes his head, adamant and unmoved.

“The truth.”

Your shoulders slump in defeat. Instinctively, you reach for your throat, tugging at the rose-gold chain hanging there and fiddling nervously with the pendant nestled between your collarbones. It looks like you’re trying to figure out what to say, how to approach the situation without revealing something that could potentially make it any worse.

“Do you remember that guy I was seeing a few months ago?” you say, your voice small. “James?”

And oh, Harry remembers. He remembers watching the two of you swap spit on top of the bleachers at one of his matches. He remembers imagining James in the place of his opponent, and then making sure to aim all of his punches directly for the face (he won, that night.) He remembers seeing the sparkle in your eyes slowly start to dim the longer you stayed with him. He remembers the aftermath of your breakup, when James had shown up at the gym and screamed at you to come outside, deterred only after Portia threatened to call the police.

He fucking remembers.

“Yeah,” he spits. The affirmation is coated in a thick layer of venom. “What about him?”

His eyes widen a touch when it all clicks, then, like pieces of a puzzle falling perfectly into place.

“What did he do?” he demands immediately, fixing you with a stern glare. “Did he fucking touch you?”

“No!” you exclaim, shaking your head quickly. “No, no, it’s just…I’ve been seeing him around. A lot. And I’m not sure if I’m just being paranoid, maybe, but—,” you inhale deeply, “—it feels like he’s following me.”

Your name slips past Harry’s lips in a hard, firm tenor. When you look up at him warily, he stares straight into your eyes, leaving no room for you to break away.

“You need to tell someone about this,” he says steadfastly. “You need to go to the police.”

“I don’t even know if I’m right,” you tell him. Your mouth curls down into an apprehensive frown. “I don’t want to cause a fuss, especially if it all just turns out to be one big coincidence.”

“When was the last time you saw him?” Harry asks. A bitter taste settles on his tongue. “How often has this been happening?”

You tilt your head to the side, lost in thought. “Two days ago,” you finally say, shrugging helplessly. “And…I don’t know. I’ve seen him, like, nine or ten times in total.”

“Ten times,” he hisses, “in a few months? That’s not normal, and you know it.”

“Harry,” you plead, tugging nervously at the hem of your t-shirt. “Please. Don’t turn this into something it’s not.”

“How can you—?” he starts, but then you lurch forward, putting a dainty hand on his thigh.

“Please,” you repeat, shaking your head softly. “Just…keep this between us, okay? The last thing I want is for my dad to find out.”

And maybe it’s the tenderness brewing in your eyes when you meet his gaze. Maybe it’s the wilt in your voice, the feeblest he’s ever heard. Maybe it’s the feeling of your fingers on his leg, burning a hole through his shorts and searing a mark—a brand—into his skin. Harry sighs, looking away from you and running his fingers anxiously through his curly hair.

“You’re bloody stupid, you know that?” he asks, scoffing quietly.

“Yeah,” you reply, the corners of your mouth kinking up into a half-hearted smile. “I know.”

“Got you a latte, gioia—”

The dinky curtain in front of you is pulled back by none other than your father, who is holding a tray of coffee in his right hand. He blinks at the scene laid out before him—you and Harry on the small cot, sitting a bit too close for comfort. Your hand on his thigh. You both jump, breaking away from each other and inhaling sharply. Harry clears his throat as you cough into your elbow, standing up and reaching for one of the drinks nestled in the tray.

“Thank you,” you murmur quietly, pressing a gentle kiss to your father’s cheek.

His eyes bounce between the two of you, forehead wrinkling in curiosity as he asks, “What’d I miss?”

You peer down at Harry from over the rim of your cup, panicked and beseeching. He just shrugs his shoulders nonchalantly; the tattoos inked into his skin ripple with the act. His tone is steady when he meets your father’s gaze.

“I’ve got some bruised ribs and a wicked headache, but aside from that—,” he lies, “—nothing at all.”

~*~

Your father ends up driving him home.

He parks the car just in front of Harry’s apartment complex, watching with worried eyes as he slips out of the passenger door.

“You sure you’ll be alright?” he asks.

Harry just nods, waving away his concerns. “I’m fine, Coach, really. Thanks for the ride.”

Your father nods—still looking a little unsure—before speeding off.

Climbing up four flights of stairs with bruised ribs is hell, Harry soon learns. By the time he reaches his floor, he’s panting and wiping a thin sheen of sweat from his brow. He pulls his keys out of his coat pocket, unlocking the front door and staggering into his apartment. A pained whimper slips out of his mouth as he shrugs the jacket from his shoulders.

He slowly makes his way into the bathroom, cupping his battered side over the material of his t-shirt. The water is cold when he first turns the shower on. He grits his teeth, fiddling with the temperature and meticulously removing his clothes as it warms.

The moment the first droplet hits his skin, he lets out a deep, guttural groan. He hadn’t realised just how tense he was until now. He stands under the spray of the water, tipping his head back and letting it wash away every trace of dirt and grime on his body. His hair grows heavy with moisture, sticking to his scalp and his forehead. He leans against the wall of the shower, inhaling deeply. His eyelids flutter shut, and your smiling face appears amidst the darkness.

Almost subconsciously, his hand finds its way to his cock.

Part of him is disgusted with himself. He shouldn’t be thinking of you. He shouldn’t be thinking of you. He shouldn’t be—

He moans.

In the realm of his perverse imagination, you’re straddling him, your arms looped leisurely around his neck and your whimpers echoing into the cavern of his mouth. Your hips roll against his, unhurried and languid and deep. So fucking deep. Harry reaches down with one hand, squeezing greedily at the curve of your ass, and you whine in response, encouraging him to do it again.

He pumps his length in the shower, panting quietly.

Your fronts are pressed together as you rut into his lap, your nipples brushing against the ebony birds on his chest and your silky walls wrapped around him like a vice. He grunts; you swallow the sound down, your hot, heavy breaths wafting out onto his chin. His fingers dig into your thighs when you steady yourself on your knees, doing your best to bounce up and down on him properly. It’s frantic, it’s uncoordinated, it’s sloppy, but…it’s perfect.

Your nails scrape down his back as the two of you move together, a steady series of push and pull, like water under a bridge. If you’re the moon, then he’s the tides, bending and swirling under your gentle light. Every time you rock forward, he meets you there, your bodies connecting with faint slaps of skin on skin. You gaze at him with hooded eyes, lust simmering beneath your lashes. Electricity tingles across his shoulders.

The noises that you emit are music to his ears. Delicate sighs when he nips at your breasts, earthy groans when he hits that special spot inside of you. And woven between them, imploring pleas, murmurs of right there and oh, yes and so good.

It’s embarrassing, how quickly he finishes.

He stands there, leaning against the tiles with his cock in his hand and his release dripping from his fingertips. He has the decency to feel appalled by his actions, at the very least. If you were aware of what he had just done, he knows for a fact that you would never speak to him again.

He cleans himself up, shampooing his hair and scrubbing down every inch of his body. When he steps out of the shower and shuts the water, a wave of exhaustion washes over him, making him sway on his feet. His lips vibrate with a soft sigh.

His phone chimes from where it’s perched on the bathroom counter. When he taps on it, he finds a message from you.

Feel better soon, it reads. The guilt festering in his chest increases tenfold.

Thank you, he says back, shoving the remorse down. Good luck on your midterm tomorrow.

A moment later, your reply comes through.

Thanks! Goodnight, Harry.

Goodnight, he types. He pauses for a moment, debating over whether he should include a little red heart after the word. But then he shakes his head, rolling his eyes at his own insolence and sending the text without a second thought.

He doesn’t even bother drying himself off before padding across the hall and into his bedroom. He collapses onto his mattress, still covered in tiny droplets that bead along his shoulders and trail downward, wetting the duvet. He doesn’t care. It’ll dry, and so will he.

He falls asleep moments later, the repaired skin of his cheek tingling in the dark.

~*~

PART III: Hook

PART IV: Uppercut

if you’re enjoying this series so far, please consider donating to my ko-fi! thank you bunches <3

[serenadeonacanoe]

Honestly, I'd piss him off on purpose. (Namjoon x OFC)

Pairing: Namjoon x Original Female Character

Genre/Warnings: Smut, Angst, Fluff, too tired to beta

Tags: Artist!Namjoon, Yoongi and Tae are the best flatmates, Enemies to Lovers I guess... more like brats to making out in the storage unit, OFC is an idiot.

Summary:

"Wow. Is that that grumpy artist behind you? Jesus. He really looks like a bit of a dick. And you are right. He really is hot..." Oh no. Speakerphone. Namjoon was standing behind me and was staring at me. Then at my phone. He let out a little laugh, then raised his hand to wave at Tae and Yoongi outside who were now also staring at him as if frozen, before turning around in unison. As if that would help. As if he couldn't see them. Or better even... couldn't hear them.

[...]

Mister Darcy has nothing on Kim Namjoon - that new and upcoming artist you probably already heard of (You haven't? How dare you? At least have the decency to pretend you have!). He is cold, serious, and rather good at making other people believe he is a prick. Especially Elizabeth Bennet - uh... Charlotte - is about to lose it because of him. Maybe in a good way. Man, I'd literally piss him off on purpose.

More chapters on AO3

CHAPTER 1

Even the sound of my own nails rhythmically tapping on the top of the counter was annoying me. To be fair, it didn't need much today to blow my fuze that had never been particularly long in the first place. But after a week consisting of being belittled by old white men and endless hours of unpaid overtime I about had it. Welcome to the art world. You know well before you enter that the hours are horrible and the job market is more than frustrating, but you love art and you have good organisational skills, you are resilient, charming when it counts and tend to romanticize things even when you know you shouldn't. It's too late to turn around now.

"That is why I don't use an agenda or notebook. If something is important enough for me to attend I simply won't forget. I know you youngsters are all about the bullet journaling and expressing yourself by mapping out your life but it really is just another way to procrastinate instead of getting to actual work." For a second I considered throwing my damn notebook in the buyer's face, but that probably wouldn't have helped my CV and the new job I would have to look for starting tomorrow. At least I should have screamed at him a little. Mainly, that I didn't care, that I was on my period and my shitty shower in the shitty flat i shared had broken and no dry shampoo in the world had fixed my hair this morning and that god damn it, how the hell was I supposed to remember every phone number, every call my boss had to take, every art handling transport I had organized if I couldn't write it down somewhere. Instead, I smiled. Died a little on the inside and complimented him on the gift of his exceptional memory and asked whether he would like another cup of coffee.

"What a dick." Samantha murmured, more to herself than me, after the guy had finally left, which made me snort under my breath. She usually didn't say much but when she did it was usually pure gold. In the end, it didn't matter that he was. Didn't matter that everyone at the gallery thought the art he had bought from us over the last couple of months had neither been smart nor impressive purchases. Mainly expensive. And flashy.

"Doesn't matter now." I said in a sigh after a quick glance at the clock. It was Friday night and we were about to close. Since it was my birthday on Monday I had taken two days off, about the longest break I had had this year and I was looking forward to being the lazy slob for a few days I was maybe always meant to be. In silence we answered a few last emails, tidied up the desks and counters so that potential buyers that would come in over the weekend wouldn't have to suspect anyone was actually working here. - A white desk. A huge Imac on it. That was all they needed to see, folders and pens and apparently especially agendas to be hidden away in drawers.

At five to eight I threw on my coat and Samantha just gave me a tired smile. Probably happy for me, just exhausted. "Have fun then? Don't get too wasted?" "Oh..." I said with a huge smug grin on my lips. "You have no idea... gonna take a bottle of Moët with me from the bar and drink it in my bathtub after eating a huge pepperoni pizza by myself and dancing to only the finest of 90s Euro Trash." I couldn't help it, apparently, I felt it necessary to give Sam a little demonstration, waving my arms up and down while swaying my hips in a way that I'd probably would not have if it hadn't been for a bit with an audience of a single person. Or maybe two?

A quiet scoff behind me and I quickly turned around, slowly lowering my arms, Sam biting her lower lip at the sight of me standing there like an idiot in front of HIM of all people.

Men didn't have to be old to annoy me. Or white. Yes, those were the ones that pissed me off most usually, but no one had managed to do so as much as Kim Namjoon recently. And now he was standing there, looking me up and down and stopping at my hair. The crazy too-much-dry-shampoo-because-the-shower-broke-hair. "Nice." He just commented and then looked over at Sam. "I'd like to take a last look before Sunday's opening if that is okay?" I stood there, my shoulders dropping, completely ignored.

"Uhm, actually, my babysitter has to leave in about an hour and I will have to be home before that." Samantha replied and I was impressed by how calm she stayed. "Of course." Namjoon said and gave her a slight smile. "Anyone else still around? Chris maybe?" Of course Chris hadn't been in today. It was Friday and unless important guests had announced themselves the owner of the gallery wasn't around on Fridays... "I am afraid not. But maybe Charlotte has a few minutes?" Well. Thanks. Thanks a lot. I felt a little betrayed. "Wouldn't want to keep anyone from their important Moët-Pizza-Dance Party plans." Namjoon replied before I could say a word. His voice once more dropping to a hushed, deep disapproval and his hands buried in the pockets of his rather expensive looking coat. Silence for a few moments and then he just walked off towards the room his exhibition had been set up all week. Showing without a further word that I would have to stay anyways if he wanted it that way.

"Well thank you for pushing me under the bus like that. Really appreciate it." "I am so sorry. But I was serious, I can't lose this babysitter. She got Jamie to eat vegetables. VEGETABLES!" Samantha suddenly seemed in a rush, grabbing her jacket and purse and showering me in promises she would make it up to me. Even though we both knew that wouldn't happen and wasn't necessary. Suddenly having to stay longer was normal. I just hated that it had to be today. And because of him.

I heard the door close behind Sam and I stood there for a second before putting my bag down again. Usually, I would have followed the artist, asking if I could somehow help, but nahhh... my ego was bruised up enough now, especially remembering the little dance. I closed my eyes. Fucking hated the guy. Always had. Well, not quite. I had thought he was cool for about five minutes when he had come in the first time. We had heard about him for quite a few months before, I think I had even seen pictures of him at some point, but those were nothing compared to him in real life. He came in all cheekbones and sharp chin and an all grey outfit, quick pace, observant gaze. Incredibly hot. He had also completely ignored me.

That's how it had started - a bruised ego. He couldn't know that it was my weak spot. Having studied art and its management and now feeling like a better secretary at times, when my colleagues and I were doing all the behind the scenes work while Chris worked very little hours and ended up with all the money and recognition. I was aware this wasn't the only field of work where this was the case, but it still frustrated me... I had imagined my life in the last years of my 20s to be a bit more glamorous than living in a tiny apartment on the outskirts of the city... spending my Friday night waiting for some rude artist dude to leave so I could lock up.

But what I perhaps hated most about him... was that I admired him. - Purely for his art. Really. Even the fact that he kept acting as if I wasn't around every time he came in didn't mean I couldn't admit that. At least to myself. The stories behind his huge colleagues were clever and thought through, but even without context, the pure aesthetics were mesmerizing. It was the kind of art that touched something deep inside of you and standing in front of it I always had a hundred questions. Whenever he brought in a new piece I was the first one to sneak a peek in the back rooms before it was hung.

"I don't get why you have such a problem with him. He is just... quiet. I think he might even be shy... stop being so sensitive and just ask him out already." I had almost strangled Sam for that comment a couple of weeks back. Stop being so sensitive. What did that even mean? Comments like that made me want to cry and scream at the same time, which probably would have been perceived as even more sensitive, but when had insensitivity become something to strive for? I had only kept quiet because I liked Sam and I knew what she had tried to say. At least I thought so. That I might have given less of a shit if I hadn't been rather attracted to Namjoon. Even though I had never mentioned it, she just knew. She knew if I didn't care about something I didn't waste my time on it. But if something made me angry or upset there was usually more to it. I hated that she could read me that easily. But he was still a dick and I still wanted to go home.

He took his sweet time. After an hour I walked up to him, a little speech prepared in my head about how he could come back first thing tomorrow. But when he turned around he just raised a hand between us to keep me from interrupting and turned away again. I hadn't seen that he was on the phone. "No, it's nothing, just one of the gallery employees." I heard him say and okay... if I wasn't about to explode before I was now. I stood there for a minute, fuming, and then simply walked back to the office area, my hand shaking when I started turning off the gallery lights one by one. It wasn't as satisfying as I had hoped but still felt good. Two minutes later the only lights still on were the one above my head and the one in front of the door. I would at least give him a clear direction where to head, he seemed to need it.

When Namjoon appeared out of one of the dark corners he looked even more annoyed than usual. Looking my direction through squinting eyes and his tongue pushing against the inside of his cheek. "Seriously?" he yelled my way and almost walked into one of the little flyer shelves. Wasn't the first time I had seen that happen to him though so maybe that had nothing to do with the light.

I felt oddly triumphant. By the time I had put on my coat and turned off the remaining lights, ready to finally lock up, Namjoon had almost found his way, standing in the open door, still on his phone. A little groan from my side when he didn't even notice that I was standing behind me went by unnoticed. Or simply ignored. But instead of the appropriate clearing of the throat or the maybe less polite squeezing past him, I just put my hands on his back and gently pushed him forward a bit, until his feet hit the pavement and he turned around. Dropping his hand with the phone in it, for a second he looked like he wanted to push back. Or trample me.

"Okay, what the hell is your problem, Charlotte?" His voice was hoarse. His eyes dark. God, he was hot. I hated him so much. "You." I simply replied and stared at him for a second, then turned around and locked the two locks on the door before stepping over to the alarm system. I couldn't help feeling smug because apparently, he knew my name. I imagined him staring at the back of my head because he was flustered, but couldn't be sure. All I knew was that when I turned around again a minute later he was still standing there, his arms crossed in front of his chest, his lips pressed together forming a straight line and watching me.

"Do you always act like that at work around people who could get you into trouble?" He was right, he could get me into trouble. But I was too fired up now, my heart racing. "Is that a threat?" "An observation." "Only around the ones I don't like." "Cool." "Great." "Enjoy the dance party. Sounds shit."

And with those words he had turned around, coat flying open in the wind, unfortunately making him look really cool as he walked away and I ABSOLUTELY HATED HIM. I kept my mouth shut and just walked off in the other direction, realizing minutes later that my car was parked the other way, but I kept walking for a while before I finally turned around. It took a while to calm down and only cuddling up to my cat on the couch to trash tv finally did the job. But by then I had realized something I wasn't sure I liked too much. Yeah, I thought he was a prick. And yeah I should have just played it cool. Would have been much smarted in many regards. But I also had somewhat enjoyed myself in the most fucked up way.

Seeing that stern look, that intense posture as he was towering over me... man, I'd literally piss him off on purpose.

More chapters on AO3

[boqvistsbabe]

Yeet - Adam Boqvist

*not my gif*

This is currently the title cause I don’t know what else to call it so. Also this is shitty and I know it is. It wasn’t planned and then I procrastinated it but I can’t start on the planned stuff till this is done because my brain is being dumb. Anyways here it is and I hope it doesn’t flop.

Warnings: none that I know of but if you see any lmk

Word count: 2,400

A/n: tried to make it as gender neutral as possible but I might’ve slipped up so if I did please let me know so I can fix it!

NOT EDITED

~~~~~~~~~

You woke up with a terrible headache and it had just gotten worse as the day went on and your coworkers weren’t helping. It seemed every single time you turned around someone needed something and you ended up getting none of your own work done. And on the way home traffic was terrible and to add on it started raining. So by the time you got home you were just ready to crawl in bed and stay there for the next week.

When you walked in the front door and saw the guys on the couch playing video games and you could tell they were invested in the game so you just mumbled a quick hello and then went upstairs to Adam’s room. You could go to your room but Adam’s room was cozier. Or at least that’s what you told yourself. The first thing you do when you walk in the room is change into some of Adam’s sweats and one of his hoodies before turning the lights off and crawling under the covers. Before you could even settle fully there was a soft knock at the door before it was opened and you heard someone shuffle across the floor before feeling the bed dip and a hand on top of your resting form.

“Hey are you okay?” At the sound of Adam’s soft voice you poked your head out of the covers to meet his eyes. You couldn’t even get the words out and you just shook your head as tears welled up in your eyes.

“Oh älskling come here.” He said, moving closer to you and opening his arms so you could crawl into them. When you were tucked into his side he pressed a kiss to the top of your head. “When you’re ready tell me what’s wrong so I can help.”

When you had calmed down enough to tell him what had happened he wiped your tears away as he listened. And when you were done he kissed you forehead before getting up and walking out the door. You would question him but your headache had gotten even worse after crying, so you just laid down and pulled the covers up over your head again.

A few minutes later you heard him walk into the room.

“Hey kärlek, I’m gonna need you to sit up and take this.” He said softly though as to not make your headache worse.

You sat up and took the glass of water and the Exedrin from him before quickly swallowing the pill and following it with the water.

“Do you feel any better?”

“Adam, bud I just took it they don’t work that fast.”

“Oh yeah right sorry.” He responded sheepishly.

“No you’re good, thank you for the water and the medicine. You can go back to playing games with the boys.”

“What, no? Why would I leave,” he said with a frown, “You’re not feeling well so I’m gonna stay up here and cuddle you cause you need cuddles. And I’m not taking no for an answer.”

You went to argue but he just gave you a look and you shut your mouth and rolled your eyes before laying back down. Once you were settled under the covers you look up at Adam, expecting him to be getting in bed with you.

“I’m gonna change into sweats so I’m more comfortable.” He said before promptly standing up and starting to undress. Which while it wasn’t unusual that he did something like that, lately you were finding yourself looking away so you wouldn’t get caught starring.

Once Adam was done he crawled under the covers next to you and pulled you back into his bare chest. Your face heated at the motion, though you had no idea why. You had cuddled with him many times but maybe it’s because for some reason this time felt different. But at the moment you couldn’t find it in yourself to care, you had a warm Adam behind you that was kind enough to take care of you and leave his friends to keep you company, and you were going to take advantageous that. So you snuggled further under the covers and into Adam’s chest and fell asleep moments later; missing the kiss Adam pressed to your temple before tightening his arms around you.

When you woke up a little while later, Adam was gone. In his place there was instead Burt and Ralph. You rolled over to check your phone to see a message from Adam saying he was picking up dinner and would be back in a little bit. So you texted back an “okay” before continuing to go through your missed notifications.

You were getting restless and you felt better so you decided to go downstairs. When you got down there Kirby and Alex were still playing video games and Lyndsey was watching something on her phone so you decided to go sit on the couch by her. You grabbed the blanket from the back of the couch and curled up under it, your head felt foggy and closing your eyes made it better.

You didn’t mean to fall asleep, but you had. This time you woke up to Adam crouched in front of you, his hand on your knee and his soft voice coaxing you to wake up and eat. When he saw your eyes were open, he stood and reached his hands out for you to grab. He pulled you up and gestured for you to go ahead of him to the kitchen. You got to the island where the food was sitting. Before you could start digging in like everyone else, you felt someone tap your shoulder so you turned. And found Adam standing there with a suspicious smile on his face before he pulled flowers out from behind his back. Your favorite flowers to be exact.

“I thought you could use a pick me up and I saw these and I knew they were your favorite so I got them for you.” He said handing you the flowers.

You grab them from him and set them on the counter before turning back to him and pulling him into a hug. Tucking your face into his neck you mumbled a “thank you” and he squeezed you closer to him. You both stay like that for a minute before

“Are you two gonna eat or just gonna stand there?” Came Kirby’s voice from behind you.

Adam and you both immediately let go of each other. Adam went to the food and you picked up the flowers and smelled them before going over to the cabinet to look for a vase. The only vase you could find was on the top shelf. You were seconds away from climbing on the counter to grab it, when you felt a hand on your lower back and a tattooed arm reached past you and grabbed the vase from the shelf and set it on the counter. Adam pressed a kiss to the side of your head then went back to get his food. You had to stop yourself from thinking he was trying to tell you something. You knew it was just because he knew you weren’t feeling well, nothing more. You pushed the thought about how he only did this for you to the back of your brain, not letting yourself go down that rabbit hole.

It was a little while later when you all were done with food and watching a movie in the living room. You were sitting in between Adam and Kirby. Ralph was curled up next to you and you were mindlessly petting him as you watched the movie and tried to keep sleep at bay once more. Adam got up to go do something in the kitchen and Burt followed him in hopes of getting food. You were once again failing at staying awake and your head dropped to Kirby’s shoulder and he pulled you close so you were cuddled up to him. Which you in no way minded since he was a human space heater. You causing Alex’s eye and he gave you a look that you didn’t even want to begin to decipher and shook your head, going back to watching whatever dumb movie this was.

“I leave for one minute to go get you water and exederin and you chose to cuddle him? I’m hurt” you opened your eyes to find Adam standing at the doorway of the room with a slight frown on his face.

“You left I can’t cuddle you from another room.” You responded, your sentence almost getting cut short from a yawn escaping.

“Well I’m back now so cuddle me and not him. After you take the medicine though.” Adam said as he sat back down after setting the glass on the coffee table in front of you and handing the pill to you after you sat up.

Once you had taken the medicine and drank some water, you shifted so you could curl into Adam’s side, legs tangling without a second thought. He grabbed the blanket from the back of the couch and settled it over the top of you both. You heard Kirby mumble something that sounded like “whipped” before Adam moved under you and you heard a soft “ow” from Kirby a second later. You assumed Adam hit Kirby but at the moment you only cared about the sleep that was tugging your eyelids down once more.

You woke up to someone carrying you up the stairs. When you opened your eyes Adam happened to look down and find you looking up at him.

“Hey you can go back to sleep, I was just gonna take you up to my room so you could sleep more comfortably.”

“Your room hmm?” You questioned with a smile.

“Well yeah, you always say my best is more comfortable than yours. Plus I sleep better next to you.” He said the last part nonchalantly as if it didn’t make your heart flutter.

When he made it to his room he walked over to the bed and gently set you down before moving to the bathroom to get ready for bed. You looked at where he was standing at the bathroom counter, brushing his teeth. It was as if your body moved in its own account when you got up to stand behind him and wrapped your arms around him.

“Thank you for taking care of me today. You didn’t have to.” Your voice muffled from how your face was pressed into his back. He turned around before wrapping his arms around you.

“I know I didn’t have to, but I wanted to. I love you and I hate it when you’re not feeling well.” He responded.

You quickly pulled back and looked up at him. You both have said you loved the other before, but only when you were drunk.

“You love me?”

“Of course I love you, I thought you knew.”

“If I had know I would’ve told you I loved you too a long time ago.” You chuckled, moving forward to wrap your arms around him once more. Adam broke the silence with his giggles.

“What are you laughing at you dork?”

“Well I love you and you love me so that means I can do this.” He said before leaning down and pressing his lips to yours. When you pulled away you both had big smiles on your faces. And then you yawned.

“Way to ruin the moment there babe.” You hated to admit it but your heart fluttered at the pet name.

“Well sorry I’m tired, but my boyfriend is keeping me from going to bed.” Was your response as you looked up at him with a big smile.

“Boyfriend huh?” Was the only thing he said before picking you up and walking back into the room before dropping you on the bed.

“Yeah boyfriend.” You said as he crawled into bed next to you. You leaned over to kiss him one more time before curling up against him and falling asleep.

You woke up before Adam the next morning. As you waited for him to wake up, you scrolled through your phone. It was about five minutes later when you got bored with that. So you set your phone aside and rolled back over to face Adam. He was sleeping peacefully as the the sun shined through the windows and onto his skin. You reached a hand up and started gently tracing the lines of his face. You knew he was awake when the corners of his mouth curled up.

“Mmm good morning.” He mumbled, rubbing the sleep from his eyes.

“Morning sunshine.” You said with a smile before leaning over and pressing your lips to his. Before you could pull back his hand slid into your hair and held you there. He deepened the kiss as he moved to hover his body over yours. His free hand had just dipped under his your sweatshirt when his door opened.

“Finally! But also gross.” You heard Kirby say from the doorway as Adam let out a soft displeased groan at being interrupted. He turned his head to look at his best friend.

“Is there something you need or are you just gonna stand there and watch us?”

“Hey!” You said as you whacked his arm.

“I was joking babe. It’s not like I’d wanna share anyway.”

“Well,” Kirby interjected before you could say anything else, “ I was coming up here to wake you both up for breakfast but it seems like you two are busy so I’ll just leave ya to it.” He winked and shut the door.

Adam turned back to look at you and leaned down to press a kiss to your forehead.

“You’re so beautiful.” He mumbled as his hand cupped your cheek.

You turned your head to press a kiss to his palm.

“I love you.”

“I love you too älskling.” He said as he pecked your lips once more.

“I KNEW IT!!! ALEX THEY SAID THEY LOVE EACH OTHER, THEY’RE FINALLY DATING!!” You heard Kirby yell from the other side of the door.

“Oh my Godd.” Adam mumbled as he dropped his weight into you and tucked his face into your neck. You smiled as you ran your hand through his hair. Yeah you could definitely get used to this.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

I’m sorry you can tell how I rushed it at the end. It’s definitely not the best I could do.

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