#wow okay I care about them as a pair more than I realised | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

flyingraijin · 2 years

Text

successful.

Pairing: Atsumu Miya x fem!reader

Word Count: 7355

Warnings: Swearing, suggestive jokes, Atsumu is a little shit, Osamu does actually care about his brother, all characters are 18+

Series masterlist + ao3

You spend the rest of the day avoiding Atsumu, Suna and the rest of the boy's volleyball team like the plague. After your incredibly public and therefore incredibly embarrassing confirmation earlier this morning that you were agreeing to Atsumu's proposal- not that's anyone but you and Atsumu know that's was that was - you'd all but sprinted out of the gym with a face that felt like it was steaming and absolute mortification burning in your gut.

It wasn't any surprise that the rest of the volleyball team had been stunned by what happened. They all knew you well enough through your relationship with Suna, but, while the two of you had been together for over a year, you had never shown much PDA around any of them. Kissing Atsumu right on the mouth was far more scandalous than anything you'd done publicly with Suna before, and you're sure the fact that it was Atsumu didn't help at all. Thank god Atsumu had understood your meaning exactly and played it off very well, calling you "princess" and "baby" in a sickeningly sweet voice and then waving you off with a yell of, "Don't miss me too much!" Honestly, you realise now that you owe him a lot. The kiss you'd given him was completely unwarranted - there were so many other ways you could have communicated to him that you were in on the plan. However, in the moment, you were so full of adrenaline and nerves that you didn't think, and Atsumu had taken the brunt of it all spectacularly.

With how full of gossip most of the kouhai on the volleyball team are, you have no doubt that this new development will spread through the school like wildfire, and hopefully solidify the fact that you and Atsumu are together. Which satisfies you at first, however, as the day progresses, you start to realise you should probably have discussed with this Atsumu a little more before you did anything so drastic.

Because people have questions.

You're able to brush off most of what people ask you in the hallways, avoiding each question by ducking out of the way or using Hinami as a shield. However, you aren't able to avoid the rapid-fire of queries from Hinami herself who, after hearing about your earlier kiss with Atsumu, isn't able to hold off her curiosity any longer.

"Girl," she says to you as the pair of you sit down at one of the tables outside during your lunch break - the cafeteria had been far too crowded and too full of staring eyes, so you'd forgone your usual seating plan to move outside. "You've gotta tell me what going on! Everyone is talking about you!"

You let out a low groan and run a hand over your face. "Yeah," you mumble out, trying to buy yourself some time with the facade of being overwhelmed. You'll need to think up a story, and fast, if you're going to make this work. "I'm sorry. It's all just been… a lot."

Hinami raises an eyebrow. "I can tell. You've been frazzled today."

"It's a big adjustment," you explain to her. "I never thought people would care as much as they do."

"So you are actually dating Miya Atsumu."

You cringe at the accusation but force yourself to nod anyway. Hinami lets out a snort.

"Wow, you certainly seem enthusiastic," she says, her voice dripping with sarcasm. You backtrack immediately.

"I-it's not like that, I'm just… overwhelmed?"

It comes out as more of a timid question than an explanation, but thankfully Hinami doesn't seem to notice as she launches into a new set of questions.

"So how long has this been going on? And what about Suna, I thought you weren't over him? Is this like a rebound? Ohmygod, are you using Miya Atsumu as your rebound boyfriend?"

You wave your hands, trying to slow her down a little. "Woah, okay. First, this hasn't been going on long at all. Only since that party over the weekend! Second, I don't know what's going on with Suna. I don't think I'm entirely over him but he's made it pretty clear there's nothing left to be said between us so I figured it was time to move on. And third, no, I don't think Atsumu is a rebound." You have to make a very deliberate effort to keep your voice stable as you say, "I do actually like him."

"Girl, you need to explain from the beginning," Hinami tells you before shoving a chunk of rice into her mouth. "Go on, right from the start! I need every detail."

You know you're trapped. And it's in this moment that you really regret not actually talking properly to Atsumu about how the details of this whole situation would work. So you're forced to do the only thing possible in this situation; you lie.

"Well," you start, slowly, giving yourself time to let the story unfold in your own head. "I knew him through Suna, right. And we didn't really ever talk much in person, because he puts up this whole attitude of being kind of a douche, which you know I'm really not into. But we ended up texting a bit - o-obviously it was all friendly, nothing flirty or anything because I was still dating Suna at the time! But I got to know him a little better through there and I realised that I kinda liked him. Only as a friend, of course! But then, two weeks ago, after Suna broke up with me, Atsumu reached out to check if I was okay. And we started taking more and more. And then at the party, we were dancing and things just sort of happened. A-and we kissed. And then over the rest of the weekend, we texted more and he asked me out on Sunday. We both really wanted to keep it quiet, since things are still tense between me and Suna, but then I got to school yesterday and everyone knew so… yeah."

Hinami splutters through her rice, looking incredulous. "And you didn't saying anything to me the whole time?!"

Immediately, you feel guilty. "I wanted to!" You say quickly, reaching out to grab her wrist. "I promise I really wanted to. It was so hard keep it all a secret. But Atsumu…" you drop your head and then lean in a little closer, as the corner of your mouth twitches up. "Well, just between us, he's a huge softy and he want to keep things a secret because he didn't want his reputation around school getting ruined."

Hinami gives you a look through narrowed eyes and for one heart-stopping moment you think she might've seen right through you. You've never been the best actress, especially when it comes to real things in your own life, and you're suddenly terrified she's going to call you on your bullshit.

But then her shoulders slump and she lets out a huff of air before crossing her arms over her chest. "Ugh, fine, I'll accept that. But no more secrets from now on, okay!"

You nod at her. "Of course. I've already told Atsumu that now that everyone else knows, just not fair to keep you in the dark anymore. So no more secrets!"

Hinami reaches out her pinky towards you, something the pair of you have done since you first met. "Swear on it?"

You hook your pinky through hers. "I swear on it," you reply to her, squeezing her finger. "No more secrets."

In that moment, try as you knight, you can't meet her eyes. The guilty is too heavy on your heart.

When lunch break ends and you head back inside with Hinami, you make a concise decision that you need need talk to Atsumu. Properly. In depth. With Hinami asking for all the details of you'd relationship, you've come to see that there are a lot of creases in your story that need ironing out. And you need to agree with Atsumu on these because, in order for things to be believable, your stories have to match up.

Duh.

At first, you consider trying to find him in person. But then you realise that you have absolutely no idea where to even start looking, since you don't even know which class he's in. And there's absolutely no way you're walking into his volleyball practice this afternoon, not after the fiasco that was the early morning practice. Plus, you doubt the team will be happy if you pull him away and disrupt their progress… again.

It's after going over all this, that you come to the conclusion that you need to text him. Only, as you only realise once you're home at the end of the day and are searching through your contacts on your phone, you do not have his number.

Which is real fucking shame, because you have the number of literally every other member of the volleyball team, even the upperclassmen who'd graduated at the end of last year like Kita-san and Ojiro-san.

As you sit cross legged on your bed, glowering down at your phone, you consider for a moment texting one of the other team members - most likely Osamu- to ask for Atsumu's number.

But then you slap you own hand against your forehead pretty violently as you remember that they all think you're dating Atsumu. And it'd be hella suspicious if you didn't have his number by now.

Idiot , you tell yourself angrily as you collapse backwards onto your bed. Fucking idiot .

You're well and truly stumped now. Because the only obvious answer for you now is to wait until tomorrow so you can find Atsumu at school and speak to him then.

Realistically, it's not like you'll be able to see him any sooner than tomorrow anyway. But for some reason, the idea of having to set the entire thing up while at school makes you incredibly anxious. There's so much that could go wrong, not the mention the fact that this conversation you need to have, it's a pretty serious one. That will undoubtedly take up a lot of time that you don't think either of you will have at school.

Frustratedly, you drop your phone beside you on your bed covers and then raise your hands up to rub furiously at your eyes. You feel like you've aged several years in the past few days; you wouldn't be surprised if you found a grey hair sprouting one of these days. It's been such a stress, even when you didn't fully realise all the implications, and you're not entirely sure how you'll sort this entire mess out. For the moment, it feels more like you've just dropped a match onto a pile of sticks in the middle of a dry grass field, and are just hoping that nothing else catches alight.

Which really isn't a good feeling. Not at all.

You're just about ready to give up and start on your school work when all of a sudden your phone vibrates violently beside you. It startles you and you jump up in response, heart pounding as for a moment your eyes dart around your room in panic. Then you mentally slap yourself and reach over to pick up the phone again, glowering at it as the screen lights up.

You've got a new notification for a text message. And it's not from a number you have listed in your contacts.

Frowning, you unlock your phone and open the new chat. Your eyes narrow as you scan over the message, and then a weird bubble of what feels like it could be a laugh or a groan rolls up your throat. There's no name to attach to the message but the tone is obvious.

Unknown number:

Hey princess ;)

A huff of air leaves your nose as you snort to yourself, shaking your head at you phone screen. Your fingers are practically a blur when you go to type back.

You:

How did you get my number???

The response is instant, like Atsumu is sitting on the other side of the conversation waiting for your message.

Unknown number:

Had it 4 a while. The head of ur photography club gave it 2 us the first time u photographed one of our matches

You:

Why tf would she do that?

Unknown number:

Idk

You roll your eyes, a make a mental note to be nice to Matsui during your next club meeting. Inadvertently, she's just saved you a lot of trouble, even if you don't happen to like it very much.

When you look back down at you phone, you see Atsumu has sent another message

Unknown number:

Sad I didn't reach out 2 u b4? ;)

You:

Lol, you wish

Unknown number:

Ur so mean, princess.

Dw, I only kept quiet cuz of rinrin. I wasn't ignoring u <;3

You:

Fuck off

Unknown Number:

Ooh spicy ;p

You can't help but let out a snort of laughter. You'll give Atsumu one thing, he's relentless in everything he does. And while it's annoying as all hell, it can be entertaining as well.

Unknown number:

So wut u up 2?

You:

Better things than talking to u

Unknown number:

Ur so mean to me

You:

Ofc x

Actually, I need to talk to you

Unknown number:

Aren't we doing that right now?

You:

In person, idiot

We need to discuss this whole thing

Set up some boundaries

Unknown number:

U gonna draft me a whole legal contract?

You:

Your jaw clenches a little in frustration and roll your eyes.

You:

We just need to come up with a proper story

Hinami asked me a whole lot of questions today and I had to think up answers on the spot. It was stressful.

Unknown number:

Hinami?

You roll your eyes again, even harder this time.

You:

She's my best friend

See, you need to know this kind of stuff

Otherwise no one is gonna buy it

Unknown number:

Alright, I get it

U wanna meet up tmrw?

You:

Yea

When are you free?

Unknown number

Uhhhh

I don't have morning practice so I could walk u 2 school?

Your eyes widen at his question and your jaw drops a little. That's… well, in the grand scheme of things, it's really not a big of a deal. But for some reason, the idea of Atsumu walking you to school seems very… intimate.

You:

Wouldn't you have to go outta your way?

I don't want to make you walk halfway across town just cuz

You half expect him to agree with you and suggest something else. From what you know, your house isn't that close to the Miya house - not that you even know the exact location of where they live. And Atsumu never goes out of his way for anyone, especially not some random girl he barely knows.

However, as he seems to have made his personal mission over these last few days, his reply surprises you.

Unknown number:

Nah, it's all good.

Walking a little further than usual will compensate for not doing morning practice

That… makes sense. But you can help but feel like it's just an excuse.

Still, you choose not to say anything and instead begin typing back.

You:

Okay, if ur sure

I'll text you my address and you can meet me here at 7:30?

Unknown number:

Sounds good

See u then, princess ;)

You don't grace him with a reply back, too exasperated with his overly audacious attitude even in a text conversation. For a moment, you just stare down at your phone, taking in the conversation. Then your finger slips to the power button and you almost shut the thing off, finally ready to get started on your homework.

However something stops you, and after another moment of hesitation, you copy Atsumu's number and put it into a new contact.

At first you name it 'Miya'. But then you realise that Osamu's name in your contacts is exactly that too and so you backspace and type in 'Atsumu' instead.

For a moment, you stare at it, taking in the shape of each character. And then, as if as in an after though, you add a heart emoji beside it.

With that you save the contact and the switch you phone off, and then throw it to the otherwise of the bed. It's just for effect, you tell yourself and you climb to your feet and cross the room to your desk. Only for effect.

It feels oddly like you're trying to convince yourself as you flip open your biology textbook and get started on the digestive system.

Much to your surprise, Atsumu is waiting right outside your house when you open the front door the next morning. You’d half expected him to be late, despite specifying a time for him to get here, but no. In fact, he’s here early.

He greets you with his usual confident grin as you step out of your front gate and into the road. “G’mornin'.”

You barely give him a head nod in reply, too tired for your usual attitude. You’d been up again for most of last night worrying, nervous about seeing Atsumu and what you’d need to say to him. And, since after discussing the details of your… arrangement today, you felt like once you got to school later on, your relationship with Atsumu would start in earnest.

“Hello,” you tell him bluntly as you fall into step beside hm and the pair of you begin to make your way up the road. Atsumu lets out a hefty snort at the rough grumble of your voice.

“Well, ain't ya just full of sunshine this mornin'.”

You give him a glare out of the corner of your eye and then have to smother a yawn with your hand. “I’m just tired. My mom has banned coffee in our house so I think O’m going into withdrawal.”

Atsumu chuckles at the scowl on your face and reaches one arm over so he can ruffle up your hair. “Aww, that’s cute.”

You smack his hand away immediately. “My pain in cute to you?”

“Kinda,” he responds without missing a beat, just shrugging one shoulder nonchalantly. The corner of his mouth twitches. “Yer eyes are all droopy and yer moving like a sloth… adorable!”

You smack at him again, this time hitting his shoulder, and he jumps away from you, immediately going to rub at it. “Okay okay, I’ll stop. Just no more violence.”

You roll your eyes and let out a huff through your nose. Then you gaze flicks back to him, and then around him. One of your eyebrows quirks upwards curiously.

“Where’s your other half? You two walk to school together, right?”

Atsumu nods mildly. “Usually, yeah. But I scared him off today. Told him I wanted some alone time with my girlfriend .” He throws one arm over your shoulder when he says it, pulling you into him. And then letting out a bark of laughter at the look of disgust you shoot in his direction.

“Yeah, we need to talk about that,” you say to him, grabbing at his forearm to force it over your head once again and so free yourself from his grip. “We need to set some things straight.”

“‘M all ears,” Atsumu replies, and for emphasis he cups his hands behind his ears. You roll your eyes again and shake your head at him.

“First,” you tell him seriously, “we need to have a story. I had to make up a whole lot of shit on the spot yesterday when my best friend started asking for details, and I’m really bad at that so we need to understand exactly where we stand and how we got together.”

Atsumu nods, understanding. “So what did ya tell her?”

When you recount the tale you'd given to Hinami, you make sure to watch Atsumu's face for any signs of conflict or otherwise displeasure. It’d be a disaster if something you’d said to Hinami were to be contradicted by something else Atsumu had going on at the time, since you don’t know how you’d be able to go back on any of the details. Thankfully, Atsumu doesn’t seem to have any objections.

“That sounds okay,” he says when you’ve finished, looking down at the ground as he seem to go over the details in his head. “So it’s not like ya cheated on Sunarin or anythin'?”

You give him an incredulous look. “Of course not! Remember, this is about showing him what he’s missing, not making him hate me any more than he already does.”

“I doubt he hates you,” Atsumu points out. You can’t find it in yourself to agree with him just yet, in the case of mistakenly getting your own hopes up. Instead, you quickly move on.

“Also,” you say,” there need to be some boundaries in terms of… physical affection.”

Atsumu looks up at you, and theres a sparkle in his eyes that has you backing up instantly. Accusingly, you point a finger at him. “I am not ,” you say very firmly, “going to so anything remotely sexual with you.”

Atsumu opens his mouth, possibly to protest, but you shut him up immediately with a very sharp glare and continue talking, giving him no room to butt in. “Kissing is okay,” you clarify. “But only if it's for the sake of making things believable. We will not be making out in every possible corner we can find, understood?”

One of Atsumu’s eyebrows quirks at the way you seem to talk to him as if he’s a toddler. However, eventually, he just gives you a nod in understanding. “Alright.” Then he cocks his head to the side a little and gives you a knowing look. “Although, ya should remember that with both times we’ve kissed you were the one who initiated it.”

Your cheeks flare with heat as you realise he’s completely correct. It wouldn’t even be stretch to say you’d forced him into both kisses the pair of you had shared, which, granted, does make you feel guilty every time you think of them. However, since Atsumu hasn't shown any objection to it, you push it out of your mind again.

“Both of those were justified,” you say to him as calmly as you can, trying to end this particular thread of conversation and move on to a different topic. Atsumu, however, doesn’t seem to want to drop it just yet.

“Yeah, but I didn’t agree to them,” he says, wiggling his eyes. “Not that I didn’t enjoy ‘em. Buuuuuut….” he then fixes you with a very devious expression that gives you a sinking feeling in your gut. “I think for compensation, you should allow me two free kisses of my own.”

Immediately you open your mouth to protest, but Atsumu manages to cut you off by raising his hands defensively. “I’m not gonna be a perv about it!” he assures you, quelling your worries immediately. “Honesty. Just… two free kisses. To make up for the two ya landed on me.”

You allow your mouth to close as you give him a very long, suspicious look. He seems sincere enough. And if you think about it, if the kiss he wants are equal to those you’d given him so far, it’s highly doubtful he’d find a way to abuse them in order to get anything overtly sexual out of you. And it’s not like he’s asking for two free goes at whatever he wants, they are just kisses after all.

So, you eventually sigh and nod in agreement. “Alright. But only two, and once they’re gone, they're gone, alright?”

“Alright,” Atsumu agrees. He shoots you a cheeky smile. “Any other rules you wanna establish?”

“We need to be seen together,” you tell him. “If the point of this is to ward off your fan girls, and get Rin to regret breaking up with me, we need to make it public. So we should probably eat lunch together sometimes. And arrive at school at the same time, so it looks like we walked together.”

“You could come to all my volleyball matches,” Atsumu cuts in to suggest. You shake your head.

“I already go to all the official games for photography club duties though, so it wouldn’t do much.”

“No, I mean all my matches,” Atsumu says. “That means official and practice matches. A lot of the fans of the volleyball team come to the practice matches because they don’t have to buy tickets to watch, so you definitely have to be there.” He gives you a wink. “Supportive girlfriend duties, obviously.”

You glower at hm. “Rin never made me come to the practice matches.”

“Well, I ain’t Rin,” Atsumu shoots back. Then he pouts. “C’mon, the point is showin' Suna how much happier ya are now, right? Don’t ya think it’d look really bad for him if ya started comin' to the practice matches now that you’re datin' me?”

He’s right, frustratingly. Suna had never asked you to come to his practice matches or practices in general. He’d said it was because it’d be a waste pf time for you to come, since Inarizaki won almost everything anyway, however you’d always had an extra sneaking suspicion it was because he didn’t like the extra attention. You also had never made an added effort to, since you figured he didn’t want you there. But if you started coming to watch to see Atsumu… well, that’d probably get to Suna.

An idea sparks in your mind and you turn to look Atsumu. “Okay. Could I come to your practices too?”

He looks a little surprised by your sudden eagerness but shrugs nonchalantly anyway. “Course, s’long as ya don’t disrupt things. Coach probably wouldn't be too happy with that.”

“Of course I wouldn’t,” you tell him. “I’d just… sit in the stands and study or something. It’d be just for me to be there, you know?”

Atsumu flashes you a smile. “Yeah, I get it.” Then he leans in, eyes sparkling. “Ya know what, I think I’d like it id you came to watch our practices. 'Means I’d have an extra excuse to show off.”

You shove his face away, scowling. “You’re such a jackass.” He only cackles with laughter in response.

There’s a moment of silence then, as you think over everything that’s just been agreed. It seems like most of your bases are covered, although it has all been mostly you setting the boundaries. Feeling a little guilty, you shoot Atsumu a sideways glance.

“Is there anything you wanna say?”

“Hm?” he asks, looking up from where he seemed to have been staring at his shoes. You roll your eyes.

“I mean in terms of the agreement,” you tell him in exasperation. “Any boundaries or rules you want to set?”

“Oh.” Atsumu’s face scrunches up for a second, as he seems to think very hard about your question. Then his expression lights up again. “ Oh! You need to be my date to all the celebration parties that the volleyball team throws.”

You face immediately falls. After the last party you went you, you’d kind of sworn off going to big social gatherings for a while, figuring if you didn't put yourself in the position to have your whole life screwed up again, things wouldn’t go as wrong. Atsumu seems to notice your hesitance, though, and jumps in immediately.

“It would look really suspicious if you didn’t come,” he points out. “Plus, the volleyball parties are usually a lot smaller; players and dates only. And Suna will definitely be at most of them.”

You purse your lips, thinking for a second. Then you let out a soft sigh. “Fine. But you had better stay with me the whole time then. No abandoning me to go hook up with random girls in the bathroom!”

Atsumu puts a hand on his chest, looking incredibly offended. “What kinda dickwad to ya think I am?” he asks, incredulous. “I’d never treat my girl that way!”

You roll your eyes, though it's with slightly more endearment this time. And you don't duck away when he reaches for you to ruffle up your hair again.

“I promise,” he tells you, sliding his arm over your shoulder. “I won’t abandon ya. You can even handcuff me to yer wrist it ya wanna.”

Your nose crunches a little as you make a face at him, and then you shove him away again. “Okay, let's not go that far, weirdo.” But your voice is warm and when you glance up at him out of the corner of your eyes, you can see that he’s smiling too.

By now, the pair of you are approaching the Inarizaki High School campus. Already in the distance you can see other students walking towards the large gates, and after taking one last deep breath to prepare yourself, you shift a little close to Atsumu.

“Wanna hold my hand?”

Atsumu positively beams down at you, seeming to take far too much glee from the innocent suggestion. However, you can’t help but smile a little at the eagerness with which he reaches out to grab your hand. His palm is incredibly warm as it presses against yours and you can feel the calluses that cover his skin from countless hours of volleyball prcatice when he laces with fingers with your own. You don't mind though, you don’t even flinch at all, far too distracted by the way your hands seem to fit together like puzzle pieces. Whenever you’d held Suna’s hand, it’d always been in when you were alone, in deserted place where no one could see the pair of you being affectionate. And it had always been a little awkward, like neither of you really understood how your fingers were supposed to fit together.

This feels nothing like that. You chalk it up to the fact that Atsumu probably has more experience than Suna with girls and affection in general. But his hand… it feels really nice against yours. And you can’t help but tighten your grip and squeeze just a little as the pair of you step through the school gates, suddenly filled with a rush of anticipation and excitement.

For the first time since this whole thing started, you get the feeling that things might not actually be so bad.

Atsumu walks you right to the door of your classroom that morning. Once you get on campus, the pair if you make an effort to talk about casual things and, to your great surprise and by total coincidence, you find the the pair of you have a very similar music taste. Not that it has much relevance at all to your day to day life, and the information you end up exchanging back and forth about your favourite bands is completely useless. But it's nice to find some common ground with Atsumu, even if it is something as random as a few songs, and helps you get the feeling that despite the fact that this relationship is fake, the pair of you may still be able to get along as friends.

You're actually giggling by the time you arrive arrive your classroom, with Atsumu sporting a bright smile of his own. The few people around - it's still early so the hallways aren't completely packed yet, thank goodness- do send the pair of you a couple of questioning looks, obviously curious at seeing you together. And for the most part, you try to ignore them. When you come to the floor of your classroom, you finally go to pull away from Atsumu, dropping his hand for the first time since you'd grabbed it outside of school.

You turn to him, suddenly feeling a little shy as you notice just how many people are watching the pair of you by now.

"Well," you start awkwardly, scratching at the back of your head. "I'll see you around, yeah?"

Atsumu winks cheekily at you, reaching out to brush a strand of your hair back from your face. You try to act causal as he tucks it gently behind your ear.

"Of course," he tells you, making an obvious show of his affection - you can't help but think he's eating up all the attention, fucking bastard. "See you around, princess."

And then before you even know what going on, he leans forward and presses a very sweet kiss to your cheek.

It's doesn't even last a full second and yet you feel completely winded when he pulls back. And he seems to know this because as he steps away and then begins to turn, you don't miss the smirk that's spreading across his face.

Your cheeks burn. Fucking bastard .

Then you turn and dive inside your classroom and away from what feels like the millions of shocked eyes that are staring at you in wake of what just happened.

Everyone is talking about you for the rest of the day. It’s even worse than it was on Monday or Tuesday because now it’s like everyone knows exactly who you are and what you’ve been doing with your life for the past couple of years. You hear whispers about Atsumu as you walk the school halls with Hinami. You hear whispers about Suna, about the rest of the volleyball team, about Osamu, even about your former upperclassman on the team who’d graduated already. All now linked to you. More rumours are spreading, ones that really don’t have any credibility, and there are a number of times you're tempted to spin round and point out someone in the hallways who you pick up on telling an outright lie. Hinami stops you though, keeping a tight grip on your arm and guiding you away from any compromising situations. She seems to have recovered from the saltiness of you not having told her about your thing with Atsumu and is now parading around with her arm linked through yours as if you’re some kind of celebrity.

“Ignore them," is what she tells you when you look round to see yet another group of Atsumu’s fangirls standing huddled in one corner, whispering behind their hands. “They’re all just jealous of you.”

You sigh and rub hard at your temples, a headache long having formed in the back of your skull. “It's even worse than before. I never thought…” you trail, trying to figure exactly what you’d assumed. Atsumu is popular, yes, but you didn’t think him getting a girlfriend would be treated like the next big scandal of the century.

Hinami shakes her head and reaches across your face to tuck your hair behind your ears. “You’ll be fine,” she assures you, smiling brightly. “C’mon girl, own it. You’ve got the man they aaaaaall want. Be proud!”

Not really, you think sulkily to yourself, ducking out the way of a younger group of girls who are also staring at you. Is this even worth it? At all?

You're cut off from your sulking very quickly, however, when you and Hinami round a corner and walk right into one of the Miya twins- thankfully, not the one you're now supposedly dating.

Osamu lets out a little noise of surprise when you just about slam into him and jumps backwards. You freeze up when you see him, you steps faltering, and for a long moment the pair of you just look at each other. Then one of Osamu's eyebrows quirks.

"Hello."

"H-hi," you reply, your voice breaking in a very embarrasing way when you do. You weakly clear your throat, dropping his gaze as your cheeks burn.

Osamu’s eyes drop for a second as he looks you up and down sceptically. Then he jerks his head a little towards the side of the hallway. “Could I… talk to ya?”

Your eyes widen. “Yeah sure!” you exclaim immediately, before flushing even more. God, why are you so awkward?!?!?!

Hinami looks between you and Osamu for a moment before nudging you a little with one elbow. “Go on, I’ll catch up with ya later, alright?” She gives you what you think is supposed to be an encouraging smile, however with the way her eyes are sparkling, she looks far too devious to give you any kind of hope. Immediately, you know she's going to be grilling you about this conversation afterwards.

Once she scurries off, you follow Osamu as he steps up to the wall, to get out of the way of the rest of the people in the hallway. For a moment, he just stares down at you, eyes narrowed and arms crossed over his chest. You struggle to meet his eyes in return, squirming uncomfortably as your mind spins with what he might want.

Is he going to call your bluff? He knows Atsumu better than everyone, he might have been able to see through the both of you. Or maybe Atsumu told him about the whole thing and he’s going to chew you out for basically forcing Atsumu into being your fake rebound after his other best friend dumped you. Not that you really forced Atsumu, since it was his idea, but since you did kiss him first, it’d probably look that way to an outsider and-

“So, is it a head injury?”

Osamu’s voice cuts off your internal rambling and you jump in surprise as you look back up at him. “E-excuse me?”

“Do ya have a head injury?” Osamu repeats, looking at you suspiciously. “Like, some kinda brain damage or somethin’?”

“Uh, no?” you reply, blinking at him in confusion. Osamu’s eyebrows furrow even further.

“Then did he pay ya?”

“I… I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you stutter out, still staring. What the hell is he getting at ?

Osamu lets out a sharp huff of air and leans back a little to survey your whole body again. “‘m just tryna figure out why the hell yer datin’ ‘Tsumu,” he says then. “If ya don’t have brain damage, and he didn’t pay ya, then what reason do ya have to date him?”

You mouth drops open in shock. Oh.

“M-maybe,” you stammer out, thrown for a loop at Osamu’s interrogation. “Maybe I just like him?”

Osamu does not look convinced.

“What’s there to like?” he asks, sounding a little indignant. “He’s stubborn, immature, a huge liar and he can barely do anythin' other than volleyball!”

You blink a few times, completely stunned.

“Plus,” Osamu continues, “his hair is stupid. If ya wanted the looks, I’m obviously the better option!” He pouts. “So why him?”

If you didn’t know any better, you’d say he was jealous. It helps to ease your shock a little and you manage a smile as you look up at him. “Aw, Osamu, are you sad I didn’t pick you?”

Osamu scowls at you. “What, no!” he looks away. “Yer not my type.”

“And you’re not mine,” you reply, letting out a soft laugh. Osamu shakes his head in response.

“Exactly,” he points out. “So why Atsumu?” Then his eyes narrow a little. “Yer not using him, are ya?”

Immediately your hands go up in defence. “What no! Of course not” Well, that’s actually a lie, but it’s not like Atsumu is using you any less . “Why do you care so much?”

Osamu’s shoulders drop and you feel your heart sink a little as a real, serious look crosses his face. Shit, you think. Is he about to call me out?

But he doesn't. Quite the opposite, actually.

“It’s just,” he starts slowly. “You and Sunarin… when ya were together, you two made so much sense. Yer both… well, you and him are the same. But ‘Tsumu… he’s not like Suna. They’re sorta opposites of each other, and I just don’t see why…” he trails off, looking at the floor for a moment. When his gaze returns to you, it’s probing, serious, and you feel a chill rush up your spine. “Look, he really seems to like you , okay? And I din’t want ya to hurt him.”

You stare up at Osamu, once again completely shocked. That was probably the last thing you’d ever expected to hear from him. Not just the part about Atsumu actully liking you (wow, he must really be laying it on thick for Osamu to actually believe that crap) but the observation about Suna too. Because, well… he’s exactly right. Atsumu is probably the furthest thing from Suna that you can get, and maybe that’s why you’d agreed to this whole fake relationship thing in the first place - because he’s the one who would hurt Suna the most. But you’d never even thought about what it might look like to an outsider.

You can see the real concern in Osamu’s eyes now. And you realise with a jolt that’s he’s genuinely worried for Atsumu. It’s sends a flash of warmth through your chest, a rush of affection, because it’s sweet. Especially considering the pair of them tend to pretend they hate each other so much.

After carefully arranging your face, you give him your softest smile. “Hey, I get it,” you start out, trying to conjure up as much raw emotion inside you as possible in the hopes of perfecting your lie. “I was surprised too because… well, the thing with Rin was really difficult. But Atsumu was there for me and it just… it just fit, ya know?” You shrug one shoulder, and for a brief moment, as you think about Atsumu, you feel a stab of genuine affection. So it’s not a total lie when you say, “He and I get on well. And I promise, I never want to hurt him, okay?” Without thinking, you reach forward to touch his shoulder, bring his gaze back to yours. “You can trust me on this one.”

Osamu gives you a long look and you have to force yourself not to drop his eyes. You hope you’ve been convincing, since apart from Suna, Osamu is probably the person most imperative in making sure this whole thing works. If he believes it, then you can trust that everyone does as well. And for long moment, you're terrified that he doesn't.

But then he lets out a soft sigh and takes a slow step back. “Alright,” he says. “I’ll trust ya.”

You smile and its full of relief. “Thank you.”

“Are ya…” Osamu starts then, scratching at the back of his neck a little awkwardly. You can tell he doesn’t quite know where to go from here, as the tension between the pair of you dissolves. “Are ya gonna come to our practice later?”

You weren’t planning too. Not today, at least. You know you’d discussed it with Atsumu but showing up so soon after establishing those rules felt a little… well, for a lack of a better word, desperate . But now, with Osamu’s eyes on you, you find yourself nodding slowly.

“Uh, yeah. N-not that”- you start, suddenly panicking -”not that I’m gonna disturb or anything!”

Osamu chuckles at you sudden worry. “I wasn’t thinkin' that,” he assures you, flashing you that classic Miya smile. “I was just wonderin’”

“Oh,” you say, embarrassed. “Okay.”

“‘Tsumu will probably be extra hyped if yer there anyway,” Osamu points out, more to himself than you. He makes a face. “Don’t encourage him too much while yer there, alright?”

“Of course not,” you tell him. Forcing a smile, you push some of your hair back from your face so you can look at him properly in the eyes. “I may be his girlfriend, but I don’t want his ego getting any bigger either.”

Osamu snorts. “Right.” He runs a hand through his grey hair, ruffling it up slightly. “Well, I see ya later then.”

“Yeah, see you,” you say back. And just like that the conversation ends and Osamu is walking away, leaving you to stare down at your own feet.

I guess I'm going to volleyball practice later, you think to yourself as your shoulders sag with a long sigh. Today is gonna be much longer than I expected .

#atsumu miya x reader #miya atsumu x reader #atsumu miya #miya atsumu #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu!!#sweetener.#💙 blue's fics

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w-m-heart · 7 months

Text

Flufftober Day 1: I've Got You

Fandom: Harry Potter Pairing: Dramione Word Count: 2743 words Summary: Locking them in a closet was a bad idea. Luna just wanted them to finally make out—but she didn’t realise Draco has a fear of small spaces after the war, and instead of pashing, he’s panicking. Good thing Hermione’s there to help him through it Warnings: panic attacks, enclosed spaces, more angst than fluff unfortunately

What is pashing?

Haha okay so I just learned that that is an Australia-only term haha wow. I thought pashing was something everyone used. Basically it’s just kissing. Snogging, necking, whatever synonym works haha

“Draco,” Hermione warned in a low voice.

“Hermione,” he replied with an easy smirk.

She narrowed her eyes at him. “Why are you following me?”

Draco threw her a mock disgusted look. “Why would I follow you?” He turned up his nose at her. “And how do I know you’re not following me?”

Hermione glared at him and he just grinned. She rolled her eyes and kept walking. Frankly she knew exactly what he was doing.

“I like you. I have for a long time. …Do you like me?”

A pleasant shiver ran down Hermione’s spine at the memory. It had been in the early hours of the morning, almost sunset when he’d said those words. They’d just come back from patrolling the corridors for wayward students, and they’d both been exhausted. She hadn’t even fully registered his words until he’d grabbed her arm and made her face him.

His eyes had been wide and his chest heaving, like he’d just run a marathon, as he waited for her answer. When his words had finally kicked in, her legs had gone weak. She’d swallowed and whispered, “I don’t know.”

Since that moment, he’d spent every moment ‘helping her make up her mind’ as he’d put it. The pre-war Hermione would have hexed him off the Astronomy Tower—hell, even at the start of the year she would have—but the last few months… As Head Boy and Head Girl they had to spend a lot of time together, and in that time Hermione had gotten to see a side of Draco she never would have otherwise.

A side that was fiercely loyal to his friends and his family, and one that defended anyone in his care. Without this forced time together, she never would have known how smart he was, or how funny he could be. And she never would have seen him swallow his pride and apologise.

That had been after the awkward Christmas they had spent together, and the even worse New Years when they’d realised they were all alone—his family in Azkaban and hers without a single memory of her. It had prompted a frank conversation between them where neither had held back. About anything.

That was when she’d realised that Draco Malfoy was exactly the sort of person she could fall in love with. Not that she could ever tell him that.

“Frankly this is embarrassing, Hermione,” Draco continued, breaking her from her memories. “For you that is.” He shook his head at her and sighed. “It’s almost pitiful how in love with me you are.”

Every thought disappeared from her mind as she gaped at him. “Excuse me?!”

He shrugged helplessly, not hiding his grin. “Everyone can see it. It is painfully obvious.”

Hermione shoved him away. “I am not!”

Draco dodged her hands with a laugh. “Are too!” he sang.

Hermione’s breath caught at the happiness on his face. She’d never seen him so light and carefree.

That morning he and many other students had been officially granted leniency from Azkaban for any crimes committed during the war. They’d all been children manipulated by adults who couldn’t sort their own shit out. Instead they were handed punishments suited to their crimes. Something every child had leapt at the chance for. Community service at St Mungo’s and compulsory viewing of the war memories of innocents and orphaned children—they were all far easier to take than a life sentence in Azkaban. At least. That's what they’d thought.

Hermione had had to watch the effects those sessions had on Draco, and while the sentencing was lenient in the sense that he and the other students weren’t being attacked by dementors for the rest of their lives, they had to come face to face with the consequences of their actions and the despair they had wrought on others.

But combined with the mandatory mind healing sessions to undo their forebears’ brainwashing and deal with what they saw in the compulsory viewings, the future was beginning to look brighter than it ever had.

It was a beginning, at least.

One that gave Hermione hope. Azkaban had only served in breaking many of the inhabitants without actually showing them the error of their ways, let alone the damage they caused. This route, while just as severe, would hopefully pave a way to a better future.

“What?” Draco frowned at her, pausing mid-laugh.

Hermione blinked, realising she’d been staring far too long, and blushed. “Shut up.”

Before Draco could tease her or she could analyse that look in his eyes that made her heart pound—there was a crash ahead.

They shared a glance and hurried down the corridor. As they rounded the corner, they found the source of the noise. Up ahead the “shagging closet” practically shook and even from the end of the corridor, they could hear the rough sounds that had so aptly given the closet its name.

Hermione rolled her eyes as they slowed, no longer in a rush. Draco snorted. “We’re not even on patrol and we still manage to catch rule-breakers. I hope their horny thirty seconds was worth it.”

As they stopped in front of the closet, Draco ripped the doors open, but it was empty. Instead of giving two horny teenagers heart attacks, they were staring at a jumping jack-in-the-box. As they watched, it darted about the closet, shaking it about just like it would have if teenage sex was indeed occurring.

Hermione bent down to pick it up—wondering just what the hell it was doing there— when she was suddenly being shoved inside. With a squawk to echo hers, Draco was pushed inside with her, and as they both tumbled over each other, the doors slammed closed behind them.

Someone knocked on the door. “Time to do as lovers do!” Luna called out cheerily. “Make out, and I’ll unlock the doors.”

Hermione shared an incredulous look with a wide-eyed Draco—or tried to at least. She couldn’t actually see him in the complete darkness. She untangled herself from Draco enough to bang on the door. “Let us out, Luna! This isn’t funny!”

“Neither is watching you two mope over each other,” she giggled. “So either snog Malfoy’s brains out, or stay in there forever. Your choice.”

And then she just skipped away. Hermione gaped at the door. Surely she wasn’t serious.

Hermione shoved at the doors, but they didn’t budge an inch. Scowling, she pulled her wand out of her pocket and cast, “Alohomora.”

Nothing.

“Aberto.”

Not even a twitch. Pulling herself more out from beneath Draco, she decided that Luna must have cast a spell to cancel out the ones Hermione was trying now. “Finite incantatem.”

Nothing.

She gritted her teeth. Damn you, Luna!

Hermione turned to Draco, even though she still couldn’t see him. “Are you even going to pretend to help me?”

Nothing. She expected a sly comment about ‘loving to watch her work’ or ‘not interrupting greatness’—maybe even a suggestion that they just do as asked, but all she got back was heavy breathing. Frowning, she cast a silent lumos—which showed her that magic still clearly worked—and what she saw had her stomach dropping to her feet.

Draco had curled himself in a ball, his arms tight around his legs and eyes wide with unadulterated terror. His chest heaved with panicked breaths and his knuckles were white as his fingers dug into his skin. His whole body trembled.

“Draco?” Hermione reached for him, careful not to terrify him anymore. Her fingers landed on his arm and he flinched. She tried again, her hand curling softly around his arm as he didn’t react this time. “What’s going on? Are you okay?”

He shook his head frantically, and Hermione’s heart squeezed as his eyes shimmered with unshed tears. It was completely at odds with the boy who had laughed with her outside just a few moments ago. Now he looked just as she felt after a particularly vivid nightmare.

Her hand curled more firmly around his forearm. “Are you… Are you having a panic attack?”

Draco nodded his head jerkily. “Small— spaces,” he gasped. “Can’t. Breathe.”

Hermione swallowed thickly. “Right,” she looked around. “Okay.”

She looked back at the door, partly to search for a way to get out that she hadn’t already tried, and also to hide her burning cheeks from him. Shame twisted her insides. She had actually thought he would take the chance to make out with her. Even worse, up until she’d seen his reaction, she’d been half tempted to suggest it too. Stuck in such a tight space where every inch of her side was pressed up against him, where their limbs were entangled—of course every spare thought was aimed at his mouth.

And all the while, he’d been having a damned panic attack.

Hermione straightened as Draco’s breathing became more choked. Enough was enough.

She glared at the doors. “Evanesco.”

One month she had entertained this charade. A whole month she had let him think she didn’t know how she felt. Thirty days he’d stuck by her side, trying to get her to fall for him, when she’d already been so in deep she could barely breathe.

She’d lied to him. Out of cowardice.

Hermione gritted her teeth and slammed her hand against the doors. “Reducto!”

Draco’s panicked breath came in short bursts, but it was the way he ducked his head into his knees that made her blood run cold.

Luna was going to pay for this. It may have been a well-meaning prank, but seeing the boy—the man—she was quickly falling for, break down so completely…

Hermione slapped both hands against the wood. “Alohomora!” The doors trembled. SLAP. “Aberto!” SLAP. “Evanesco!”

Her knuckles bit into the wood but she didn’t feel the pain as she snarled, “Fucking open!”

The door splintered.

She stumbled out, chest heaving and palms aching. Magic coursed under her skin, burning with raw power from whatever she’d unleashed. There was a gasp behind her and she spun around.

Draco clawed himself out of the closet, covered in dust and choking in it as he gasped for air. Hermione hurried to him, pulling him away from the splinters scattered across the ground. His knees buckled and he fell to the ground. He didn’t shrug off her touch like she expected him to, so Hermione kept her arm around his shoulders.

“You’re okay. I’ve got you. You’re okay,” she whispered, squeezing his shoulders lightly and swallowing thickly as he shuddered beneath her. “You’re out. It’s over.”

She wasn’t just talking about the closet. Whatever had happened to him that was so traumatic it triggered a panic attack—it was over. She didn’t know if the words would have any effect on him, but they always had for her. Whenever she woke up from a vivid nightmare, that mantra always helped ground her.

It seemed to work as Draco muttered them in echo. “I’m out. I’m out. I’m out.” He reached out blindly, his eyes still squeezed shut, and he grabbed her free hand like it was a lifeline and he was drowning. “It’s over.” He shuddered and his grip on her hand tightened to the point of pain. “Never again. Never again.”

Hermione’s heart ached. He was in so much pain and with every mantra he repeated her mind whirred with what the hell could have happened to traumatise him like this.

She lifted her arm from his shoulders and lifted her hand to gently brush the loose hair from his cheek. She tucked it behind his ear, and as he leaned into her touch, she repeated the action. Over and over as he softened against her and time lost meaning.

Her legs began to ache from the awkward way she was sitting on them, but she couldn’t care less as she watched his breathing steady out. His frame still racked with the occasional tremor and he hadn’t loosened his grip on her hand, but he seemed more at ease now.

“Better?” Hermione murmured. As her fingers tracked behind his ear, she settled her palm against his cheek.

Draco nodded slightly, leaning further into her touch, and as he opened his eyes, he swallowed.

“Th—” His breath shuddered, an aftershock of his hyperventilation. He swallowed and tried again. “Thank you,” he said roughly. He leaned deeper into her palm—so like Crookshanks she smiled. “For getting me out.”

Then something over her shoulder caught his eye and his eyes widened in shock. She followed his gaze and snorted. The closet had disintegrated. There was nothing where it had stood—nothing but a pile of dust. She hadn’t just opened the doors, she’d split the closet at the molecular level.

She fought a smile. “I guess my emotions got away from me.”

Hermione turned back to see Draco’s reaction and her mouth went dry at the way he stared at her. Like she was more than he could have ever imagined. Like he’d just proposed and she’d said yes.

His eyes were wide and his jaw slack. He looked like the very air had been ripped from his lungs. Like everything he knew was being upturned with every passing second.

“How?” he whispered, agonising hope and desperation thick in his voice. “Why?” Another tremor ran through him. “You weren’t dying. You weren’t freaking out.”

Hermione frowned, bewildered. “You were,” she said, like that explained everything. A small noise escaped his parted lips. And just like she’d decided in the closet, enough was enough. She was tired of being a coward over how she felt.

She shuffled forward, this time cupping his face in both her hands. “You were terrified. I couldn’t just stand there and do nothing. I had to get you out of there.”

“Why?”

Time to stop letting fear rule.

��Because I like you so much it scares me sometimes.” Hermione stared deep into his eyes. “Because when you were panicking in there, I would have burnt the whole castle to the ground if it made you feel better. Because even a second of you being unhappy makes everything feel wrong.” She sucked in a breath so shaky it surprised her.

Tears glimmered in Draco’s eyes and his hands came up to encircle her wrists as she continued, “Because I couldn’t spend another second of you not knowing how I feel.” She pressed their foreheads together. “You make every day being here easy just by existing. Every time you smile at me I feel my day get instantly better. I look forward to these nights where you put all your attention into making me fall for you, because even though it’s so damn selfish, I’m terrified of scaring you off by revealing just how far I’ve fallen for you.”

Hermione swallowed thickly. “And with all of that…” she shook her head. “Of course I had to react like that. You are everything to me. One stupid closet wasn’t going to stop me from saving the man I love.”

Draco’s chest heaved as he stared at her with wide, wet eyes. “You love me?” His hands shook around her wrists and he stared at her like he couldn’t believe her. His face slipped out of her palms

She shrugged, and an uncomfortable weight settled in her stomach as she waited for his reaction. A month ago he said he liked her, and here she is confessing her full blown obsession. Was it going to weird him out? Had she ruined—

He laughed. It was a wet and relieved sound. He dropped back, landing on his ass as he laughed again. “Oh, thank Merlin.”

Hermione stared at him, utterly bemused and bewildered. “What?”

He tipped his head back to look at the ceiling, still laughing like a deranged, relieved lunatic. “I’m obsessed with you too.”

Time stopped.

“You…are?”

“Stupidly.” Tears slid down his cheeks as he smiled so widely at her. “I am so glad you don’t just fancy me. I mean, I knew you did, but I thought that was just it.” He laughed again, utterly delighted. “And here you are as obsessed with me as I am with you.”

He knew?!

“I’m gonna strangle you.”

His grin widened.

“But I am going to kiss you senseless first.”

Hermione launched herself at him and cut off his laugh with the kiss she had been dying for for months. Draco responded with equal enthusiasm, and in their passion, neither noticed their audience exchanging money for their earlier bet.

Somehow Luna had bet exactly this would happen. Down to the exploding closet. But really, who was surprised? There was a reason everyone called her Loony.

A/N: might post a second part of them having soup later and discussing why Draco has a fear of closed spaces, but that won’t be part of this Flufftober

Thanks to @flufftober for this year's prompts! They were a fun headache to write haha

#dramione #flufftober 2023 #day 1: I've Got You #harry potter #hermione granger #draco malfoy #luna lovegood #fanfiction #trapped in the closet #love confessions #angst with a happy ending #happy ending #fluff and angst

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takenbyheartstrings · 3 years

Text

ONE BED

summary: Its the one bed trope, but you and peter don't like each other and the avengers are determined to change that, so they set you and peter up for what could be success or what could be failure.

pairing: peter parker x fem!reader.

warnings: angst (not really)???, fluff, swearing, mentions of sex, mentions of masturbation, and finally SMUT.

authors note: sorry if this is a little cringworthy, it's 12am and i am tired.

Natasha walked into the kitchen of the Avengers Compound, heaving a large breath, letting out a sigh catching Tony, Bucky, Steve, Wanda and Bruce's attention.

"What was that for?" Steve questioned as he noticed Natasha's somewhat annoyed appearance.

She shrugs, "They hate each other, they hate each other and I wanna know why."

Bucky laughs, "Not this shit again."

"Yes this shit again, Y/n and Peter clearly like each other, but I don't know why they have it in for each other."

"Or maybe they just don't like each other, that's possible Nat." Bucky lets a little glare.

Tony's voice perks up, "Uhhhh, I don't know about that. They always catch second glances at each other, when the other's not looking. It's cute." Tony couldn't believe he was talking about two eighteen year olds, but you two clearly liked each other.

Bruce let out a hum, "How about, we force them into a situation where they can't escape each other. We have to go down to Washington in a few days for the new training facility, so it's the perfect cover anyway. Instead of bunking Peter with Sam and Bucky, maybe we can bunk him in with Y/n."

Natasha and Wanda nod, "That's not a totally bad idea," Wanda tries not to grin; she's seen the way the two of you pine over each other like lovesick puppies. It really was cute.

"So we're just gonna ignore the fact that this is against their will and they might hate each other more than before and you guys are willing to place on the fence based on a hunch." Bucky speaks rationally, "Besides, the kid scares easily, you'll just be taking away the fun from Sam and I."

Everyone in the room trades a glance and then looks back at him, "Yeah." They all spoke at once.

It was settled. This little side mission was happening.

You sighed as you made your way into the conference room, the mission in Washington was a big one for you - and for Peter. But you needed to be prepared for anything, but nothing could prepare you for the news you were about to hear.

"Alright, I've got our roommates for the trip ready." Tony stated as he started listing off names, you were confused as to why you weren't with Wanda like usual. "Okay and Y/N and Peter."

"WAIT WHAT?" You almost screamed standing up.

"I can't be that bad. Can I?" Peter's lip quirked into a smirk.

You rolled your eyes as they turned a shade of red at his annoyance, "Well you clearly can."

"Don't get all glitter eyes on me." Peter chuckles, as Bucky can't help but snicker, your head snaps toward him as he then backs off.

Steve puts a hand your arm and he beckons you to sit down. You do so trying to calm down.

"Hey look," Tony sighs, "Sorry kids, but that's just how it is. Two people per room and you guys just happened to be last pick."

Peter sighs, "Whatever, the sooner we get it over with the better." He rolls his eyes walking out of the room. You followed but before leaving, you used your powers to lift Tony's coffee cup and spill it on his lap.

"Real mature!" He calls after you.

"I'm eighteen, get over it!" You yelled back before going to your room and slamming the door behind you.

Everyone was right, you did have a crush on Peter. You really liked him. But you were also so jealous of him. You were jealous of his smarts, his looks. Practically everything about the boy.

So much so, that you fantasised about him. You touched yourself thinking about him - and so did he. You both liked each other, but it was so hard to admit it because you were both jealous of each other, for the same reasons. You honestly didn't know how you were going to get through the night with Peter in the same room as you. You didn't know if it was going to be a paradise or a nightmare.

The next night you got to the hotel, "All right guys, time to get settled in, we have a big day of training tomorrow. Go get rested, goodnight." He waves walking off with his key. Sam and Bucky take theirs, Bruce and Steve take theirs, Nat and Wanda take theirs and You and Peter are left standing there.

"Look I'm too tired to argue, so can we just... not?" You questioned Peter.

"That's fair," He gives an awkward smile, "Since you start them all," He mutters under his breath, quiet enough so that you don't hear it.

You both made it up to the room to be met with a sight, "Wow. One bed, like this could get any worse." You sighed.

"Really. Truely can't. I thought to myself 'Nothing's worse than having to share a room with you,' but now there's one bed and I'm not giving it up."

"Well neither am I, guess we'll share." You give a harsh glare. You set your duffle bag down next to the left side of the bed and grabbed your pyjamas and made your way to the bathroom, it was a pair of shorts and a tank top. You were so reluctant to wear a bra. But you were nervous considering that Peter was in the other room. You opted not to deciding it wasn't worth the pain.

You walked out of the bathroom and Peter met eyes with you, lingering over your body, he loved looking at every part of you, the way your nipples came through your shirt and how perfect your tits were. How perfect your thighs were. How beautiful you looked. He didn't say anything but the room was filled with a tense silence. Peter walked into the bathroom and changed, he walked out of the bathroom wearing nothing but a pair of plaid pants. Your eyes made contact with his biceps, his abs. You never realised how strong Peter actually was, you always fantasised about him like this but your fantasy was now a reality. You swore you could feel yourself getting a little wet, just thinking about what Peter could do to you.

You sighed getting into the covers at Peter did the same, the two of you were lying back to back with a large chunk of space between the two of you. You let out a little sigh, "I'm gonna go to the bathroom," you had announced.

"Alright," Peter said timidly, letting you know he was awake.

You looked at yourself in the mirror, splashing yourself with cold water. You knew you shouldn't feel this way. Not now. Why now? Why when he was here? You splashed yourself in the face one last time before opening the door and you met Peter's eyes.

"Peter I-," You started.

"I like you." Peter said nonchalantly.

"I-I like you too."

It was quick, but finally Peter's lips landed on yours and never left. You were actually the one to deepen the kiss. You felt Peters tongue slide into your mouth in one swift movement. His hands trailed up your shirt as you were pinned against a wall, he could feel your tits get hard as a chill went down your spine from the touch of his cold hands. Breaking the kiss for a moment - he lifted your shirt over your head as he started trailing kisses down your neck, you let out a heavy moan. Peter smirked against the kisses, as he trailed further down your body, licking and sucking on your nipples, his tongue making circles around them.

"Fuck, Peter." You groaned softly as the two of you then moved to the bed, you could see a bulge in Peter's pants. You slid them down as you were met with his dick, a smirk took place on your face as he sat back against the headboard.

You decided to have your way with Peter, kissing and sucking on his tip. Until you finally placed your whole mouth around it, bobbing your head up and down on his cock. You took your mouth off of it before wrapping your hand around it and slapping it onto your tongue. You could hear Peter groan heavily, "Fuck, Y/n, just like that." His words came out as hot flashes as you moved your hand up and down his dick, rubbing it.

You couldn't take it anymore, you wanted to feel Peter. You moved up to kiss him again, but before you could Peter looked at you, “Every time you made me angry I fantasised about the things I would do to you and now I finally get to do them," He smirked.

You couldn't say anything else, you just let the moment get a hold of you. You kissed him again and it was like you could feel the electricity sparking in the air between the two of you. His kisses were hungry and desperate and sweet. You were lucky to be in his arms tonight, you were lucky to be fucked by someone like him. Someone caring. Someone genuinely sweet. Even if you hadn't seen what that side of him was even like, you knew he was.

You felt your breath hitch against the air as Peter removed your shorts, and yet he could see the patch of wetness on your underwear. You swore you could hear him get hungry at the sight, Peter didn't say anything, but he removed the garment blocking him from all of you. You were naked in front of him and he was loving every minute of it. His tongue entered your pussy as he sucked and licked your clit, moving his tongue up and down your pussy. He was hungry for you and only you.

Peter finally looked up at you as you moaned softly, your back arching a little as he pleased you with his tongue, "Peter I want you, please." You said desperately.

"As you wish," Peter said huskily as he slid his dick into your wet hole and boy did that hit the spot. Sliding in and out of you, every single moan was like a godsend, like music to hears ears. You were shaking under him.

"Peter you can go rougher than that," You spoke through a strained moan and Peter could. Your bodies flowed together, the mattress moving underneath the two of you, slamming the headboard with every thrust. Each moan that came out of your mouth got higher and higher, letting Peter know you were almost at your edge. Peter continued to move in and out of you.

"Fuck Pete, I'm almost there," You whimpered softly, "Fuck!"

He smirked against you, pulling out his dick and replacing it with his mouth. His tongue moved in and out just like his whole body had and you finally reached your peak.

"FUCK PETE!" You moaned once more as your body finally relaxed.

You took a hold of Peter's dick and started rubbing it again, he moaned quietly, "Fuck, yeah, just like that, that's my girl." Peter murmured. You smirked before placing your mouth over his cock and moving your head up and down once more, wrapping your hand around it while you also moved your head.

"Fuck that's it, that's it." Peter groaned, "Fuck Y/n, I'm gonna cum." Peter said as you moved your head faster and faster, ready to take on his load and that's when you could finally feel it, the sticky, white liquid in your mouth as you let it dribble back onto his cock, before licking it off his tip and letting it fall again, tasting the excess that was left in your mouth.

You let yourself fall back next to Peter as you got back underneath the covers with him, your naked bodies lying together intertwined.

"You have no idea how much I've thought about doing that with you," You laughed quietly, "I always hated you because you're everything I'm not Peter, but I was too quick to judge. I was wrong, wrong about most of it, almost all of it."

"Me too, Y/n, me too. I always wanted to be like you, but I see now that we have our differences and that's okay, but now we can work on that. Together." Peter spoke.

"Does that mean," You smiled against his chest.

"Yeah, it does."

"Well in that case, I really liked it when you said I was your girl," You smiled up at him, "That was really hot."

The two of you ended up falling asleep, in each others arms, feeling nothing but happiness. The two of you knew now that there was no reason to hate each other. There was no reason you couldn't be with each other.

The next morning you slid on a training bra and tights, reading for the day of training Tony had told all of you to get rest for, "Well don't you look good." Peter said wrapping his arms around your waist placing a kiss on your lips.

"I could say the same for you," You said feeling the biceps that were exposed because of his muscle tee. You and Peter walked down to the lobby with his arm wrapped around you, the rest of the group looked at the two of you surprised.

"You two look cosy," Wanda smiled.

Bucky batted an eye for a moment surprised that the plan the group had set out actually worked, "Wow, yeah, you guys do, what happened?"

"Oh we just talked, and we just confessed our feelings and now we're together." Peter explained.

Natasha let a painful look shine through, "You sure you guys just talked, it's not like the walls are soundproof."

The two of you blushed, "I- we- you- heard- what?" You were flustered you didn't know what to say. Peter just stood there in shock.

The rest of the group laughed walking off, "C'mon guys, the facility is ready for us, might as well make the best of it," Tony chuckled walking off as the rest of you followed, Peter placing a kiss on your head as you did.

#peter parker #peter parker x reader #peter parker x reader imagine #peter parker smut #peter parker x reader smut #peter parker x you #peter parker x reader angst #peter parker x reader imagines

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bleeding-letters · 2 years

Note

Hmm how about a hero x villain thing where hero realises villain is actually a good, caring parent?

Or something that has to do with telepathy?

I am out of ideas ;-;

Your writing is amazing though, keep it up and thank you so much for posting it!

🍫🍪🍰🌹🌷

What Are We, One Year from Now?

“So… where have you been? It’s been a week since we last fought and— wait, you’re not avoiding me, are you?”

“Why are you here, exactly?” The villain stood on the front steps of their home, thoroughly annoyed by their unwelcomed guest. They held a stack of unopened letters in one hand, the other on the doorknob, a clear sign they wanted out of the conversation.

“You didn’t answer my question. Why are you avoiding me?”

“Wouldn’t it be easier just to take the answer from my brain?”

“Thought it would be better to ask first,” The hero gave them a small but genuine smile. “Figured I’d get more results that way then dealing with mental walls and making you angry.”

Villain wasn’t avoiding them per-say, they had just been a little busy. But they couldn’t say that out loud because well, if the hero asked what they were doing they couldn’t lie, Hero would know. Having a nemesis with telepathy really was the worst.

“I- Something came up.“

“For an entire week?”

“Y-Yes. Look, I’m not making plans or hiding out or anything. I should be back to doing my criminal deeds by the beginning of next week. But for now-”

“Daddy?”

A little child that couldn’t be any more than four years old appeared at the pair’s feet, wrapping her arm around the villan’s leg. The little girl looked up at Hero, rubbing the sleepiness out of her sapphire eyes. And for the first time since Hero met Villain, the criminal looked truly afraid.

“Yeah baby, you need something?” The villain crouched down to her level, the hero momentarily forgotten. His voice became laced a level of with care and concern Hero didn’t know was possible.

“My tummy still hurts daddy.” The girl coughed.

“I know baby. Do you want to try some soup? C’mon, I’ll go make you some.”

“What about— *cough*—what about them?”

The villain turned to Hero, his face a mix of pleading, concerned, and terrified at the same time. I’d never dare harm them, you know that

Villain seemed to relax slightly at the hero’s message, opening the door to let them pass into the house. Villain led the way to the kitchen, only pausing once to ask the child to go wake her brother. And she did, leaving the two adults in the kitchen alone.

Villain knew Hero would have a lot of questions for them. How old are they, is the home safe, who’s the mother, is she alive or dead, are they really his kids—

“Do they know?” Hero started softly.

Wow, out of all of the questions they could’ve asked... “No. If I can help it, they never will,” Villain grabbed a small pot and a can of chicken noodle soup. “Her brother starts school in a year, and I plan to be out of the villain life by then.”

“A year? You mean-”

“Yes. A year from now I will be a normal civilian living a normal life being a normal father. I’ll have a normal job and live in a normal house.” Villain’s vision blurred as the tears began. “A year from now you and I…”

Villain’s voice cracked and Hero’s heart wrenched in two. They knew him, Villain was giving up everything they’d ever known for these kids, even if he didn’t have to. “That doesn’t have to be true. I’m still here, we could work something out.”

“Like what? There’s no idea or plan I haven’t thought up where this ends well for us. It just-” And suddenly Hero was beside him, a finger hooked under his chin. His breathing nearly stopped at Hero’s sudden proximity. Villain wanted this. They wanted Hero to hold him in their arms and tell him it would be all right. To look him in the eye and he know it would turn out okay. But… they couldn’t do this to them. There was no situation where they could be together, not without putting someone in danger. They couldn’t do that to them.

It took a moment to register the arm snaking around his waist, pulling them closer, closer, closer, until their chests were touching. “What if,” The hero’s voice was a hushed whisper as they removed their finger from under Villain’s chin, bringing it up to their own face. To their mask. “I did this?” And with deliberate slowness, the mask came off.

The villain started when a high pitched gasp came from across the room. The noise was soon mixed with muffled giggles and the sound of small feet running. The villain turned just in time to see a little boy turning down the hall and out of view. Moments later his daughter appeared, all wide-eyed and excited, tentatively coming up to the pair. Her brother came up behind her, peeking over her shoulder shyly.

“Mx. Hero, —*cough*— aren’t you supposed to be in love with —*cough*— with Villain?”

“I was supposed to but… I fell in love with your dad instead.”

And Villain was sure the blush taking over his face was warmer than the soup cooking on the stove.

I meant to post this yesterday sorry ;-;

#eeeee thank you anon #hero x villain #villain x hero #heroes and villains #writing #good parenting #children #hope you like the title?#what are we one year from now #an answer thou shalt receive #asks

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writethelifeyouwant · 3 years

Text

Always With The Scissors

Pairing: Sam Winchester x Reader / Dean Winchester x Reader / Sam x Dean Rating: 18+ Tags: sloppy seconds, voyeurism, angst, objectification of women, slut shaming, dirty talk, cum play, pining!Dean Word Count: 2.9k Created for: @spnkinkbingo - Objectification | @negans-lucille-tblr - Man Crush Monday: Sam and Dean / Two for Tuesdays: Smangst / Sinful Sunday: Sloppy Seconds A/N: Super big congratulations of 7,000 followers!! You deserve every single one and many many more ❤️

Dean has a very specific kink. He knows it makes him sound a little creepy... okay, a lot creepy – okay, he is actually a full-on creep – but he never cums harder than he does when he's inside a girl his little brother's just fucked. And it’s not that his brother has awesome taste in girls and Dean is just jealous and wants in on the fun too. It’s not even that he has a big kink for sloppy seconds. It had never appealed to him before they started playing this sick sort of game they’ve been playing since Sam decided he was over Jess enough to start sleeping around again (he knew Sam was nowhere near ready for another relationship).

Dean remembers eyeing up a petite little thing at the bar once and then noticing Sam checking her out not too long after. Ever the gracious big brother, and not creepily concerned with Sam’s sex life, Dean figured he’d bow out and let Sam take the swing at this one — but then Sam caught Dean looking at her too, and tried to back down to let Dean have at it. Dean couldn’t have that. So he suggested the ploy that got them where they are now, they play Rock Paper Scissors for the chance to shoot their shot; Dean always loses Rock Paper Scissors.

The part of the night they hadn’t anticipated was the girl they’d been ogling spotting them playing a game for the chance to fuck her, and suggesting that they don’t need to choose, they can just take turns. That had been the game changer.

Listening to Sam fuck her stupid through the wall of the motel room is seriously hot, and Dean has to fight to keep his hand out of his pants the whole time he sits waiting, hearing Sam grunt out filth that he never imagined he’d hear from his little brother’s mouth. And when Sam lopes back through the adjoining door between their rooms with sex ruffled hair and a smirk, with a quick aside of ‘She’s all yours’ before he ducks into the bathroom for a shower, Dean swears he feels his knees go weak.

Quick as he can, he makes his way into the ‘sex room’ as he decided to call it in his head, and found the girl laying in the centre of the bed, legs draped open, playing with the cum leaking out of her pussy. Dean has to grab himself through his jeans, scared he’ll come on the spot if he doesn’t cut himself off.

“You gonna fuck me or what, big boy?” The girl leers at him, and Dean strips down like he’s being timed and slots himself between her thighs and pushes home in one go. He finishes embarrassingly quickly, with Sam’s cum sloshing around his dick and leaking into his mouth where the girl had painted it on like lip gloss. He devours every drop.

Dean catches Sam’s eye from across the bar and nods towards the girl he’s picked out as a target. It’s a college bar, so Sam does the approach, seeing as he's the one who looks like he could still fit in here. Dean drops himself in a chair and watches Sam work, proudly — he’s the one who taught the kind everything he knows after all. He watches as Sam charms her easily, gets her a drink, asks if she wants to come sit down and motions to the table Dean’s sitting at.

“Dean, this is Y/N,” Sam introduces her, smoothly pulling out a chair for her and pushing it back to the table — a true gentleman. “Y/N, this is my brother, Dean.”

“Hey there,” Y/N smiles at him easily, and Dean can tell they’ve picked someone up for a good time.

“Hey yourself, sweetheart,” Dean gives her a wink and leans in closer. “So, Sammy tell you how we’re hoping this night’s gonna go?”

“He did,” Y/N nods and shoots a smirk at Sam, who reciprocates, and Dean feels his guts churning. “Said the back seat of your car was real comfy too,” she grins mischievously.

“Sam even puts a blanket down most of the time, real class act,” Dean laughs, gulping down more of his drink.

“Wow,” Y/N is sarcastically amazed, “you fellas know how to treat a lady right,” she sounds bitter but Dean can tell she’s joking. She wouldn’t have followed Sam over here in the first place if she wasn’t.

“We try our best,” Sam grins at her charmingly, and Dean can see Y/N melt a little looking at his baby bro’s eyes — he can’t blame her.

Several drinks later, Y/N starts getting handsy with both of them, and Sam suggests they think about moving their little party of three outside. They show Y/N out to the car, Dean opens the back door with a flourish and she slides gracefully inside, glancing back out with a hungry look in her eyes. “So, who’s joining me?” she flutters her lashes seductively, like we need any convincing, Dean thinks to himself.

“Sammy,” Dean grunts, making a ‘come here’ motion with his hands and then holding one out flat and the other on top in a fist in preparation. Sam sidles over to Dean, gait smug, like he already knows he’s gonna win and get first crack at Y/N — which of course he is, because that’s how Dean likes it. He holds up his hands in a mirror of Dean’s, and eyes not leaving each others’ they both beat their fists against their palms. 1, 2, 3.

“Ooh,” Sam hisses in mock sympathy when they look down and see Sam’s ‘rock’ beats Dean’s ‘scissors’. “Always with the scissors, Dean,” Sam gives him a condescending pat on the shoulder, like he doesn’t know what Dean’s doing, and maybe he doesn’t, Dean thinks. Maybe Sam truly doesn’t realise how fucked up I am.

Dean turns to head back into the bar as Sam slides himself into the backseat next to Y/N, but he stops in his tracks when she calls out the window — “Sure you don’t wanna watch, handsome?” Dean freezes, the possibility of actually getting to see Sam fuck this girl, not just imagine it, is more intoxicating than the drinks he’s downed tonight. To actually see Sam, stripped and vulnerable, losing himself inside some cunt… Dean had never even considered that as a possibility before, but now that the thought is in his mind he needs it, craves it. He spins on his heel, looking back at Sam, inwardly praying that his little brother will be gracious enough to grant him this one thing.

“I don’t mind,” Sam smirks, eyes darting back to Y/N and raking down her body. “If she wants you to watch her get used like a little fucktoy, she can have that.” Dean is back by the car in a heartbeat. Sam pulls the back door shut as Y/N climbs on his lap and starts kissing him, while Dean checks around furtively and slides into the front.

Y/N moans start to fill the small space of the car’s interior as she grinds enthusiastically down onto Sam. Dean watches Sam run his hands down her back and up under the hem of her skirt. He wishes Sam would take her skirt off so he could see Sam’s hands on her ass, see his fingers tearing into the lace panties that Dean had gotten a glimpse of when she slid into the backseat earlier on. They pull apart and Y/N pushes Sam’s shirt up and over his head, messing up his hair, before she runs her fingers through it and holds on tight, earning a pleased groan from Sam. Dean catalogues that knowledge for later use – not that he thinks he’ll be in a position to test it out on Sam, but it will be a nice detail to add to his tragic imaginary Sam, the one that knows how sick he is and doesn’t care.

Sam’s hands sneak up the back of Y/N’s top and Dean watches as he removes her bra with practiced ease, and he nods to himself – respect. Sam must be feeling her up now because his arms have disappeared to her front and she’s letting out some pretty little whimpers and arching into his chest. Y/N pulls her top off, then reaches for Sam’s jeans, undoing the belt, button and zip quick as she can. Sam pushes her off him and she sprawls to the side, facing Dean now, and her eyes seek him out.

Her chest is heaving, her breasts shuddering with each rise and fall of her chest, and Dean spends a moment taking in her body, appreciating the curves, before he notices her hands have snuck beneath her skirt and she’s clearly touching herself while she watches him. Dean flushes, reaching down to adjust himself in his jeans. “Enjoying the show?” she winks at him, and Dean nods wordlessly.

“Get back over here, and let’s give him a real show,” Sam grabs Y/N and drags her back onto his lap, still facing Dean. She straddles him and rubs herself over his crotch. Sam snakes his arms around her waist and pulls up the front of her skirt, so Dean can see Sam’s cock thrusting between her thighs, against the glistening satin and lace panties she’s wearing. Dean feels his dick leap in his jeans, and he reaches down to adjust himself again before he decides to just give in and let down his zip, pushing his hand inside his boxers to fist himself out of the material. “Wanna see me fuck her?” Sam grunts, eyes flicking up to catch Dean staring at their grinding hips.

Dean feels his cock leak across his fingers at Sam’s words. “Fuck yes,” he groans, stroking himself harder. “Fucking give it to ‘er Sammy.”

“Want me to give it to you sweetheart?” Sam breathes against Y/N’s neck, tucking her hair tenderly behind her ear and nipping at her earlobe. She squeezes her eyes shut and whimpers, Sam’s way with words clearly affecting her. “Gonna be a good little slut and take my cock? Let me use you up and then hand you over to my brother to finish you off?”

“Fuck, Sam please, please, just use me,” she pulls her panties to the side and tries to get Sam to slip inside her but she can’t quite find the angle, and she whines, desperate and frustrated.

“Wow, for someone who just wants to be a set of holes you sure are needy,” Sam growls and gets his cock in the right place and pulls her down his shaft slowly. “Thought you told me inside you’d let me do whatever I want to you, and you wouldn’t put up a fuss?”

“Just fucking fuck me already, please Sam,” Y/N is begging, grinding down onto Sam’s cock like a whore.

Sam finally stops teasing her and follows through on his promise to use her. One of his hands comes up to wrap around her throat while he uses his other arm to keep her body pressed close against his, and he punches his hips into her hard, without abandon. Dean nearly chokes every time he catches a glimpse of Sam’s cock, bare and shiny with her slick, before he pushes back into her. It’s better than he could have imagined, watching Sam actually rail into a pussy instead of just hearing it through some flimsy drywall. It’s much easier to picture what Sam would look like fucking into him now that he’s seeing this.

“She feel good Sammy?” Dean is horrified to hear how strained his voice is when he speaks. He sounds like a goddamn girl with how fucking breathy he is.

“Uh huh,” Sam fucks into her quicker, like Dean’s question has spurred him on. “So wet, can feel her soaking into my thighs,” he moans. Dean refuses to let out the whimper that’s trying to escape his throat. “Gonna be even wetter for you,” Sam continues, leering up at Dean through his lashes, chin looped over Y/N’s shoulder. “She’s gonna be all messy when I’m done with her. But you like ‘em like that dontcha? Like ‘em strung out and used up?”

“Fuck,” Dean does almost whimper.

“Oh god,” Y/N whines, dropping her hips down in earnest against every one of Sam’s thrusts, and she snakes a hand down her front to start rubbing over her clit.

“Oh you wanna cum, do you? Think you earned that yet?” Sam bites against Y/N’s neck and bats her hand away from her core. “I think you’re gonna have to do a bit more before you get to cum. Gotta let me cum in you first, huh? Then you’re gonna be a good little cocksleeve for my big brother to get off in, and then, maybe, if you’ve been a good girl, we’ll make you cum.”

“Fucking hell,” she moans heavily, dropping her head back onto Sam’s shoulder. “C’mon then fuck me, want your cum inside me, please,” she whines, voice piercing in the small space.

“Yeah, that’s what Dean wants too,” Sam smirks, but he’s not looking at Dean now, he’s got his eyes closed tight and his head buried against Y/N’s shoulder. Dean thanks fuck for that, because when he heard Sam say that he knows Dean wants him to cum inside Y/N, Dean thought he was going to die of embarrasment. Obviously he wanted that, and in the back of his mind he knew Sam must know that he likes fucking the girls second, but they’d never talked about it. What did Sam think about the fact that Dean got off on fucking his little brother’s cum back into whatever warm body they’d picked out that day? He must be okay with it because they keep doing it.

Dean’s existential crisis is cut short when he hears the tell tale gasp and cut off whine that means Sam is cumming, and he looks up just in time to catch the pure fucking bliss on his little brother’s face. His eyes flick down to where Sam and Y/N are joined and he watches, mesmerised, as Sam pulls out, his cock laced with the white of his release.

“Open your mouth, bitch,” Sam grunts, and shoves Y/N off his lap and onto her hands and knees so she can suck the cum back off his cock. Dean’s breath catches in his throat, desperately hoping she doesn’t swallow.

When she pulls off of Sam with a wet sound her mouth stays open and Dean can see the cum slipping from her lips. He reaches over the seat impulsively and grabs her hair, yanking her towards him and slamming their mouths together. Dean sucks her tongue into his mouth like he wants to bite it off, and he can’t keep in the moan that bubbles up from his chest when he tastes the bitter edge of Sam’s spunk on his tongue.

“C’mere,” Dean grunts against Y/N’s lips, dragging her over the top of the seat. It’s not graceful, it’s not attractive or sexy, it’s born of the intense desperation Dean has to feel something hot and wet around his dick, and when he pushes into Y/N’s cunt he knows he’s not going to win any records for stamina tonight. She’s tight, but it’s an easy fuck because she’s so so wet. Dean can feel Sam’s cum squeezing out of her every time he fucks in, pushing the creamy liquid out around his dick and grinding it into his jeans. They’re going to be ruined but he doesn’t give a fuck because this feeling is always worth it.

Y/N’s head is buried in the crook of his neck and Dean’s forehead is smashed into her shoulder as they cling to each other. Dean jumps when he feels hands on his shoulders, because the fingers are facing the wrong way for them to be hers – they’re Sam’s. He leans across Dean to kiss Y/N roughly, then yanks her head back by her hair, holding her out in front of Dean so they can watch her tits bounce while Dean fucks into her mercilessly.

“What d’ya think Dean, do we let her cum?” Y/N whines at the words and Dean can hear Sam smirking. “You’re gonna cum anyways aren’t you, you fucking slut. Gonna squeeze his cock real good for me? That’ll make you a real fuckin’ whore won’t it, going home with two guys’ loads in that pussy, huh?”

Sam’s taunts are cruel and mocking and fucking hot and Dean has never had to listen to Sam’s dirty talk while he was actually fucking something and he can’t handle it. He stills inside Y/N, gasping as he pumps his release inside her, mixes it up with Sam’s. Y/N is shaking around him and Dean thinks she must have cum too but honestly he’s so far gone he can’t even tell.

When Y/N climbs back over the seat to find her clothes, Dean stays put, still trying to catch his breath. He hears Sam open the door and walk her out, back to the bar. He shakes himself from his reverie and rushes to tuck himself back into his boxers. His jeans feel sticky, and they probably are ruined but he still doesn’t care. It was absolutely worth it.

We’re All Mads Here: @vulgar-library @tintentrinkerin @negans-lucille-tblr @fandomfic-galore @petitgateau911 @schaefchenherde @kickingitwithkirk @little-diable @laxe-chester67 @kassyscarlett @austin-winchester67

All SPN: @cemini-winchester @akshi8278 @stoneyggirl @deandreamernp @lyarr24 @lovealways-j

#bees7ksoftheweekchallenge #spnkinkbingo #sam x reader #dean x reader #sam x dean #sam winchester smut #dean winchester smut #wincest

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queenshelby · 3 years

Text

My Friend’s Father (Part Six)

Pairing: Cillian Murphy x Reader

Warning: Age Gap, Mild Sexual References

Words: 1,937

Notes:

I have decided to make this into a series.

Alright, no judgment. This was a dream of mine and I felt like I had to write it down. Everyone in this Fic is over the age of 18 and this Fic is in no way based on Cillian’s real family life. It’s pure filth.

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

The Afternoon Before (Cillian’s POV)

Before the opening, Denise had the opportunity to show both of her parents the art which she had created.

Neither of them had seen the photographs before and were rather excited to see what all the fuss was about.

‘Alight, alright…here they are’ Denise said with excitement and, whilst her mother smiled and told her how beautiful they were, Cillian gulped harshly in surprise.

‘Dad, do you not like them?’ Denise asked as he stood there, chin dropped and speechless.

‘They are amazing’ he confirmed although he wished that he had some warning beforehand when it came to the content of the pictures.

Cillian wasn’t sure whether he should look at the pictures in detail or whether he should try and look away. Seeing you like this was difficult and his manhood soon began to stir as his eyes gazed over your perfectly shaped breasts and your messy hair.

The Opening Night

You stood in front of the large mirror in your bedroom at your parent’s house just outside Galway and tried hard to clip your hair up which had always been a struggle.

Somehow, you managed and the tucked-up hair allowed you to show off your exposed shoulders and back.

The black dress you had chosen for the gallery opening was made out of stretchy fabric. It was simple but yet elegant and left the entirety of your back exposed while a rim of fabric ran across your neck.

You were lucky that your breasts were small as there was no way you could wear a bra with your dress and you certainly didn’t need to.

The dress was flattering around your hips and finished just below your knees.

‘You look nice’ Connor said as he picked you up from your house and, fortunately for you, your father wasn’t home in order to make a scene about your revealing outfit. Your parents were strictly catholic and wouldn’t have approved, nor did they approve of Connor who, in their opinion, was way too old for you.

‘I look nice, do I?’ you chuckled, having hoped for him to choose a different word perhaps, such as ‘beautiful’ or ‘stunning’.

‘Yes, very nice…let’s go, huh?’ he then said and you nodded, following him to the car.

The drive to the gallery took only 15 minutes and, after Connor had handed his car keys to the valet, you walked inside the building where, almost immediately, you spotted Denise and both of her parents.

‘Oh wow, you look amazing’ you said to Denise before giving her a big hug. As usual, her clothes were colourful and unique.

‘So do you in your sexy black dress…Connor, isn’t she stunning?’ Denise winked, before saying hello to him also.

‘Yeah, she looks nice’ Connor then said, causing Cillian, who was standing behind Connor, to cock an eyebrow. You noticed him looking at you with burning eyes, clearly having noticed the fact that you weren’t wearing a bra.

‘Hey Y/N’ he then said, before giving you a friendly hug as well before you greeted Denise’s mother the same way.

Breathing in Cillian’s scent took your breath away and you immediately forgot about Connor by your side until Denise took it upon herself to introduce Cillian and her mother to Connor as well.

Just as you got talking, the others arrived and it was Amalie who stole the show, wearing the shortest dress she could have possibly found.

You couldn’t help but notice that Connor was staring at her and it was obvious to you that he would have liked it if you wore something more revealing like her.

‘Can’t walk in heels Y/N?’ Amalie then asked sarcastically and you shook your head, wearing nice but flat sandals with your dress.

‘I never saw the point of high heels. They are rather impractical, don’t you think?’ you asked, but Amalie ignored your question and immediately began to hit on Cillian instead which was rather amusing to watch.

***

After the initial chat, you allowed Denise and her parents to talk to some of the other artists and guests and disappeared into the crowd with Connor, trying to hunt down the photographs Denise had taken and which you had not yet seen.

‘You didn’t tell me you knew Cillian Murphy’ Connor said somewhat surprised and you told him that he was just Denise’s father so you didn’t think to mention it. Of course, you would never have wanted Connor to know that you had, in fact, slept with Cillian.

‘Whoah…and you also didn’t tell me that you look like this beneath all your clothes’ Connor then said all of a sudden, interrupting you mid-sentence, as he glanced over to where the photographs of you were displayed.

‘Well, if you had bothered to take off my clothes first before we had sex then you would have known’ you winked as you grabbed one of the glasses of champaign from the bar.

‘We were short of time but, perhaps, I can make it up to you tonight’ Connor then winked and you couldn’t help but roll your eyes, thinking back at this one night a week or so go which was the first and last time you had sex.

‘Apparently you were short for time, yes’ you said teasingly, reminding him that, after ten minutes of missionary, he realised that the football was on and left you high and dry and certainly dissatisfied.

‘Tonight, you can show me what’s under this dress and I will worship this body of yours’ Connor said and his comment made you chuckle.

‘We will see’ you smirked and, just as you did, Cillian walked past the two of you and smiled.

You hoped that he didn’t hear any of this but, then again, if he did, you hoped that it made him at least a little bit jealous.

‘So, what do you think?’ you then suddenly heard Denise ask from behind and, because you were so busy starring at her father, you didn’t realise that she was there.

‘These pictures are amazing Denise’ you said as you were extremely happy with the result.

‘That’s what dad said too actually’ she then said, causing you to blush.

***

As the evening went by and Connor had one glass of wine after another and making several inappropriate and rather controlling remarks, you knew it was time to leave but, Denise didn’t want you to go just yet and, in the end, you told Connor to take a taxi home and that you would see him in the morning.

Luckily for you, he agreed and you were beyond embarrassed by his behaviour as he was trying to dictate what you could do and what you couldn’t as the night went on.

‘He is…uhm…interesting Y/N’ Denise’s mother then said before continuing on and asking you whether you don’t think that he’s a bit too old for you.

‘Oh, I see, you spoke to my parents’ you chuckled as you watched Cillian sip on his glass of wine while cocking an eyebrow.

‘I am just saying, I can see their concerns’ she went on to say, causing Denise to roll her eyes and it was at this point when Cillian interrupted his ex-wife.

‘That’s enough. I think she’s old enough to make her own decisions’ Cillian said and it wasn’t until, some point later when you followed Cillian down one of the hallways to get your coats from the cloak that you had some privacy and Cillian voiced his concerns.

***

‘Be careful alright’ he said after he told you that he was concerned that Connor acted in a controlling way and that he didn’t like the way he was speaking to you.

‘This is not how I meant it Y/N. I am just trying to look out for you’ he said and you couldn’t help but laugh, which is when he pulled you around the corner of the hallway, worried about someone listening to your conversation.

‘Listen, I don’t need you to tell m what to do. I am not your child’ you huffed out somewhat irritated by his comments and you weren’t sure whether it was his concerns that bothered you or the fact that he never contacted you again.

‘Look out for me? That’s funny. It really is’ you chuckled before asking him why he had never contacted you after your visit to Dublin.

‘Why would I have contacted you? I made it pretty clear that, what happened between us, was a mistake. It can’t happen again’ Cillian huffed out and, just as he did, you shook your head in disbelieve.

‘Alright, that’s fine…but stay out of my private life then, please. I don’t need this kind of lecture about who I should be with and who I shouldn’t be with from you’ you said angrily.

‘Common Y/N, you can’t tell me that you actually have feelings for a guy like this. You are more sensible than that’ Cillian said with frustration.

‘I think neither of us have been acting sensibly lately Cillian, wouldn’t you agree?’ you asked, raising your eyebrows.

‘That’s not the same Y/N. Like you said, it was just sex between us. But with him, it’s more than that isn’t it? You are dating him, are you not?’ Cillian then asked sternly.

‘Oh my god, are you jealous?’ you asked angrily.

‘I am not fucking jealous. Why would I be jealous?’ Cillian then asked annoyed.

‘How the fuck do I know. I don’t know how the hell your brain works. After all, you made the same mistake twice. Once, I can understand, but twice?’ you asked with fury.

‘And so did you’ Cillian blurted out.

‘Uhm, yeah, but I didn’t say it was a mistake, you did. For me, it wasn’t’ you huffed out.

‘Fuck, this isn’t going anywhere, is it?’ Cillian then conceded angrily and you shook your head.

‘No, it’s not, just leave me alone, okay?’ you then huffed out angrily and, just as you did, you could feel Cillian’s hands on your hips and your back pressed against the wall behind you near the stairway.

There was an awkward silence between you as you stared into each other’s eyes and, just after Cillian looked over to both sides to ensure that you were alone, he pressed his lips onto yours firmly.

You parted your lips slightly, allowing his tongue to invade your mouth as you gave into this kiss. Your hands were soon tangled in the top of his hair while his hands were caressing your face.

But then, all of a sudden, you pulled away and shook your head.

‘No…no I am not letting you do this again’ you huffed out before walking off.

Whilst you wanted him badly, you didn’t want him to walk away from you again, saying it was a mistake.

Tag List:

@lilymurphy03@deefigs @theflamecrystal @desperate-and-broken @weepingstudentfishhorse @livinginfantaxy @rosey1981 @atomicsoulcollecto @peakyboyslover @nerdy4itall@elenavampire21 @hanster1998@mariapaiva13 @fairypitou @harry-is-your-sunflower @zozeebo @lauren-raines-x @kasaikawa @littlewierdalien @sad-huffle-nerd @theflamecrystal @peakymalfoyscullymulder @themissthang@0ghostwriter0 @stylescanbeatmyback @1-800-peakyblinders @datewithgianni @momoneymolife @ntmynouis @lilymurphy03 @mcntsee@cloudofdisney@missymurphy1985 @peakymalfoyscullymulder @otterly-fey @janelongxox @uchihacumdump @basiclassy @being-worthy @chaotic-bean-of-smolness @margoo0 @chocolatehalo @vhscillian @ysmmsy @littlewierdalien @crazymar15 @stickyknightflowerbailiff @im-constantly-fangirling @goldensunflowe-r @tellingyouastory @captivatedbycillianmurphy @namelesslosers @littlewhiterose @ttzamara @ttzamara @cilleveryone

@peaky-cillian

@severewobblerlightdragon @ysmmsy

#cillian murphy #cillian murphy smut #cillian murphy x reader #cillian murphy imagine #cillian murphy x y/n #cillian murphy x you

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hiraethenthusiast · 3 years

Text

"I love you most."| t.h.

pairing: actor!tom x reader

warnings: floof attack.

synopsis: tom gives you the best wedding you could've gotten. he's in love with you madly, that's what he says.

a/n: guess who wants this? i do. i absolutely adore a loving husband no matter what, and i adore heartfelt gifts even more! i hope you all like this fic, this one's really close to me! tpwk everyone!

listen to clinton kane's i guess i'm in love

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

“So do you, Y/N Y/L/N take Tom as your lawfully wedded husband?” The priest asks you while you and Tom look at him with impatience in your eyes.

“I do.” You say, making everyone cheer and making Tom smile.

“And do you Tom Ho-” “I do!” He shouts before the priest could even complete his sentence, making everyone at the altar erupt into laughs.

“Let him finish bubba” You laugh along, signalling the priest to go on when Tom mutters a small ‘sorry’ to him.

“Do you, Tom Holland, take Y/N Y/L/N as your lawfully wedded wife?” He asks again, while Tom looks at you with nothing but adoration in his eyes.

“I do.” And everyone cheers once again, and you gently squeeze his hand.

“So I shall now pronounce you husband and wife. You may kiss the bride.” The priest says lastly before getting off the stage and as if on queue, Tom sweeps you under his arms and holds your waist before pressing his lips to yours. The moment was wholeheartedly content, his and your parents, both with tears in their eyes, even Paddy and Harry shed a few, because the moment was so pure to just not cry at. Tom kisses you as if he was the luckiest man on Earth, like he had achieved something which he thought he could never. He pulls back to look at you beaming with the biggest smile he’s seen on you in years, and smiles to himself once again.

This was the best day of both of your lives till now, and there was no doubt about it.

After 4 years of being together, Tom finally proposed to you, and then forgot where he kept the ring, but you couldn’t care less because the man you were in love with was now, going to be a forever favourite in your lives. And today, he was now your husband from your fiance, and you couldn’t be anymore happier.

You both settle down after roaming from one place to another greeting every guest that had attended your wedding, finally for a drink and some food. Harrison sits right behind you, completing the duties of best man with all his will, and you smile at him. The twins and Paddy come in a bit later, but your eyes are looking for someone else. Where’s Tom? Your question was answered when you hear the clinking of a glass, just to find your handsome husband there.

“May I have your attention please?” He looks directly at you and you blow him a kiss, him pretending to catch it making everyone laugh. Actors.

“Thank you all for attending and being a part of our very wonderful day, I swear you guys are our favourite people” He says while chuckling.

“Today is the day I married my wonderful and stunning lover, Y/N and in recognition of that, I decided to give you the best gift of this evening.” He says, making you wonder what he got for you.

“I remember when Y/N once told me that she always loves heartfelt and handmade gifts filled with love more than people buying her the gift of her choice. She likes the element of surprise, as she likes to say. So Y/N my darling, I thought you might notice and scold me for it but you didn’t, not even once in this 4 year old relationship, and trust me this is going to shock you. I’ve managed to record every important and goofy moment of our lives, from falling on a staircase to the time I proposed to you, I have it all. I’ve compiled them into one sweet video for you, while your favourite singer of them all, Mr. Clinton Kane sings a song for us! Please give him a huge round of applause!” You jerk your head to the place where Clinton enters from, and he waves at you making you wave instinctively as well.

You look back again towards Tom, who was smiling sweetly at your little fangirl moment and continues.

“I’d also like to thank Harrison and Harry for helping me edit this video, because I’m literally so dumb without anyone of these four with me.”

“Can you put the lights out and start the video please?” He asks one of the workers there at the venue, and jogs up to sit down beside you, giving you a small peck while you take a hold of his hand.

And on queue, the lights are dimmed and the video starts to play. You can hear the faint strumming of the guitar that Clinton is currently playing, but you aren’t able to identify the song just yet. You look ahead towards the screen, and your eyes light up when you see Tom dressed up in his wedding tuxedo, you finally realising that this bit was filmed just a few hours ago.

“Hello my lovely wife! Well, I’m filming this part before the ceremony starts but I think I’m pretty certain on showing you this video after we’re married. This was...boring. Anyways, I hope you enjoy the video my love, and don’t hit me when we get home! I love you so so so much, enjoy!” He says before shutting off his camera, while everyone laughs at his goofiness and you glare at him playfully. The video rolls again and you look forward, but suddenly realise the song. It’s ‘I Guess I’m In Love’, you say to yourself. Tom had proposed to you after a few days when the song came out, and somehow on the night of him proposing, this song was played. You labelled it ‘our song’ and he happily obliged.

“Haz hold the camera correctly for god's sake...” You hear your husband’s voice and move your head towards the screen, smiling brightly.

“Oh I’m obsessed. With the way your head is laying on my chest.” Clinton starts, immediately soothed by the presence of your lover and the melody in your ears.

“I am holding the camera nicely mate bugger off! Nikki taught me well!” Harrison says in the background making everyone giggle.

“She’s coming shut up”

“What’s this Tom?” You ask him, as he looks at you like a kid in love.

“Y/N”

“Tom” You say in the same manner, feeling anxious by the second.

“So we’ve been dating for 4 years and trust me those have been the most beautiful four years of my life. I know this is so out of the blue, but Y/N Y/L/N, will you do the favour of marrying the person who loves you immensely? A.k.a. Tom?" He says and you laugh. You hold on for a few seconds, looking in his eyes which were filled with desperation.

"Yes" You say and his face lights up like a Christmas tree. He can't stop beaming and searches for the ring in his pocket, only to find out that he didn't have it.

"Oh I'm a mess. When I overthink the little things in my head."

"I have the ring I promise." He says, moving frantically.

"Tom-"

"I swear I kept the ring in my pocket-"

"Tom-"

"How can I be this stupid you probably don't want to marry me anymore-"

"TOM!" He jerks his head towards you as you shout his name.

"It's okay. I just want you right now." You say and he immediately hugs you, the tightest of them all.

The clip ends and you knew the tears were coming very soon, Tom senses the action and rubs your knuckles., giving you a hearty smile.

The second clip rolls in soon, your eyes brightening almost instantly.

"You seem to always help me catch my breath. But then I lose it again, when I look at you, that's the end."

"Why the hell are we on the top of the Eiffel Tower? And why do you want your phone to crash?" You ask him, while he struggles to make a video with his phone while the winds roar at the top of the monument.

"Because I want to remember this moment!" He shouts, making you smile even more.

"My goof"

"Your goof"

"You're lucky I love you"

"I wouldn't have it any other way darling" He says and gives you a quick peck on the lips, this moment too pure to realise.

"Why do I get so nervous when I look into your eyes? And butterflies can't stop me falling for you."

"Now we may invite, a very handsome young lad, who happens to be Spiderman, Mr. Tom Holland!" Harry shouts in the video, while you all pretended to have a grand gala when you couldn't attend Tom's premiere.

He walks in wearing a black tuxedo, his shirt buttons open from the top, looking dashing.

"Thank you for inviting Harold, but please, call the star of today's night." Tom says, making everyone groan about how in love he was with you.

"Patience Thomas. Now may I present, the queen of today's night, Ms. Y/N Y/L/N!" Everyone applauds as you walk down the stairs as you hear your name. You reach the door wearing a red and black dress, the clothing complementing your body more than ever. Everyone seems to keep clapping but your attention is towards that one dummy, who's standing like he's seen a ghost.

"..Oh wow." He's speechless, and everyone knows it. You blush at your boyfriend's gesture and nudge him in the shoulder, as a signal to stop staring.

"I hope you all understand that I scored a jackpot, thank you" He sees and everybody laughs.

You laugh along with the other guests, remembering the faint memory from over two years back. This was one of the most fun nights you've had with Tom. While you laugh at the clip, all Tom can do is stare at you in awe. How did he get so lucky, he thinks. He watches how your face glows when you see someone happy on the screen. He truly was blessed.

"And darling this is more than anything I've felt before. You're everything that I want, but I didn't think I'd find. Someone who was worth the wait of all the years of my heartbreak. But I know now I've found the one I love."

"Please don't go" You sniffle on Tom's shoulder, asking him to stay one last time before his flight leaves for Atlanta.

"If it was in my hands darling I'd never leave your side." He says, trying to hold back tears.

"It's okay, I understand." You say, pulling back and clearing your throat.

"Awh Y/N please don't cry." Tom tries to persuade his emotions by telling you to stop, but a tear falls down his cheeks in an instant.

"I'm sorry." You say, chuckling lightly, making Tom chuckle too.

"I'll be back before you know it."

"I know you will be"

"Please board the flight for Atlanta which leaves at 1330 hours" The flight attendant announces, and you know it's time to let him go.

"Come back home to me soon okay?" You say, wiping your tears.

"As soon as possible"

"I love you" He says.

"I love you more."

"I love you most." You can't argue with that now.

"Bye bubba" You say, giving him one last kiss, a very long one indeed, that left you both searching for oxygen.

"Bye darling" And he leaves to board his flight. You look in the same direction until he disappears and you turn around.

"Harrison, are you crying?"

"No-" He sniffles and you laugh.

You knew you were going to cry as soon as you saw the location. This was one of the hardest moments of your life, letting your lover go away from you for so long, and you weren't ready for that. You wiped your tears while Tom rubbed your hand with one of his, the other cleaning his tear stained face. You look back to see Harrison crying once again, and you laugh a bit at him before giving him your hand for comfort. He really was the best man. You blow a kiss to your family and Tom's, who were currently high on emotions. Even the brothers had tears in their eyes. You really did get the best family.

"And I love the way. You can never find the right things to say. And you can't sit still an hour in the day. I'm so in love, let's run away because us is enough."

The rest of the video were some clips of you and Tom being goofy and so in love, which were a delight to watch. The song played in the background, adding its own special touch, which was necessary to bind this moment together. All these moments which Tom managed to shoot secretly were a lifelong reminder of how much your person loved you. He loved you.

And that is all you need.

The video gets over and Tom looks at you with puppy eyes.

"So, how was it?"

"You're the reason my makeup is ruined and I have mascara stains" You say, laughing while crying.

"That good, huh?"

"That good." You say and he pulls you in for a hug and kisses your forehead.

"I love you bubba"

"I love you more" He says, kissing your cheek.

"I love you most."

He couldn't argue with that.

"But I know now I've found the one I love."

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

tagging some friends who'd like to read!

@evanssimpybaby @hollandsmushroom @tomsoxytocin @scarletspideyy @leafy-holland @t-lostinworlds

#tom holland angst #tom holland gifs #tom holland x reader #x reader #tom holland and reader #tom holland smut #tom holland #fluff #romantic #wedding #love #holland and co #cute as a button every single one of you #raya writes #raya is a mohmaya

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violettelueur · 3 years

Text

— JUJUTSU KAISEN EPISODE SEVEN || ASSAULT

↳ featuring : fushiguro megumi + kugisaki nobara + zenin maki + inumaki toge + panda from jujutsu kaisen

↳ warnings : mention of forced marriage + EXTREME grammar issues

↳ form : story

↳ published : 28 february

↳ pronouns : she/her

↳ word count : 2.5k

↳ synopsis : within the jujutsu world, there were three famous clans to be aware of, the Kamo clan, Zenin clan and the Gojo clan. However, unknown to many sorcerers there was one last family that was known to be apart of the three, only for them to disappear after the golden era leading some to speculate that they had died in battle after the sealing of ryomen sukuna, but....

↳ previous episode : after rain

↳ next episode : boredom

↳ barista’s notes : hi again....barista violettelueur is back from the shadows of not writing anything ┬┴┬┴┤•ᴥ•ʔ├┬┴┬┴ but i want to apologies to you all for not working on your coffee orders, i just been really being in a non productive mood theses days but i should really bring it back up since i have mocks coming in soon....ʕ ㅇ ᴥ ㅇʔ but overall, i hope you enjoy today’s episode and have a wonderful day/night ʕ•ᴥ•ʔﾉ♡

BEFORE READING, I NEED YOU TO BE AWARE OF THIS:

1. the whole story belongs to Gege Akutami and the credits go to them and them only.

2. the spell curses used belong to Tite Kubo due to them being the ‘Kidos’ being used on the manga and anime ‘Bleach’ - but none is mentioned in this chapter.

2.5 for the ‘cursed spells’/kidos (bleach) i will link this video here and tell you the time stamp to check out what i am intending to show - remember i add a few twist here and there by adding the katana to link with Y/N’s cursed technique

no cursed spells used this episode...

3. if you are confused on anything, please don’t hesitate to message me since i know this whole thing is so confusing.

“I think you can do that,” you stated in a quiet tone, causing Fushiguro to look in your direction only to see you staying still in the position that you had set yourself in before slowly pulling yourself back up to sit in a normal position, leading Fushiguro to go back to what he was in deep thought about.

‘I don’t get it, though. Why...did you run back then? What a waste of talent, but the girl back at that place, she knows how to use her technique extremely well’

“You possess such intellect, such skill, such power and such talent and yet you refuse to go against me with your full potential, are you mocking me?”

‘I have the potential to beat special grades? Is that what he meant by that?’ Fushiguro thought, before turning to look at you to discover you were looking into the distance while continuously sipping on your orange juice like the addict you were.

‘What was she trying to tell me? It seemed like L/N knows something...intellect?’

Slowly but curiously, Fushiguro began to reciprocate your previous movements by letting his hand touch the step between his legs before waiting for a second to see what you were trying to inform him, only for his hand to steadily go deeper into his shadow leading him to widen his eyes at this discovery.

“Tuna, tuna,” Inumaki mentioned, as he pointed at Fushiguro since he noticed what he was doing, leading Zenin and Panda to look at their classmate wanting to know what he was trying to bring their attention to.

“Huh? What?” Zenin asked in confusion, before turning her head in the shikigami user’s direction to realise what he was doing.

“Senpai, I think I can do it,” Fushiguro stated, with a rare smile before looking in your direction once again to see you were still staring at the field in front of you.

‘Such intellect…’

ꕥ

“Ahh?”

Suddenly, after you masterfully was able to swipe Zenin’s footing with the metal pole-arm she had given you for the practice match, you were suddenly hoisted into the arm once you fully turned around, only to suddenly find Panda effortlessly lift you up with his paws on either side, catching you by complete surprise.

“Are they finally going to get her?!” Kugisaki shouted in question since, for the past few days of training, no one was able to defeat you in any of the practice matches they had set out.

However, before Panda could act of on his plan, you gracefully spun your body around to face the other way like a professional gymnast before concentrating your cursed energy to your leg and foot as you swang down to kick the sorcerer in the back causing the animal to let go of the pole in pain as he fell while you landed with some stagger since you didn’t have enough time to plan your footing with Inuamki behind you to make sure you didn’t fall down.

“Maybe not...” Fushiguro muttered while sitting next to his classmate as both of them were sitting on the stairs spectating the fight going on between you and the two other second-years.

“Wow!” Kugisaki gleefully mentioned as she lightly clapped her hands for your performance.

“Ah sorry senpai, did I kick you too hard?” you sincerely asked, as you crouch down by his side to check if he was doing okay, to which he gave you a thumbs up to indicate his well-being before praising you for your performance which led you to stand up straight to move over to Zenin to give her a hand on getting back up.

“You’re really strong,” Zenin muttered with a smile causing you to smile back before stating, “Nah, you really made it challenging since it’s been a while since I fought someone good with weapons,” which lead your upperclassmen to tell you to get Fushiguro since it was his turn.

Leisurely walking to your classmates by the stairs, you casually threw the pole towards Fushiguro, who caught it instantly, before mentioning to him that it was his turn to train with Zenin leading him to get up from his seat to move to his designated area for you to then take his seat next to Kugisaki, leading to your classmate to place her head on your shoulder as you took out your phone to scroll through a bit.

“Is that your sister, Gojo?” Kugisaki question, leading you to turn your head slightly to look down at her only to find her staring down at the screen of your phone to which you turned back to you.

“No, that’s my mother,” you answered as you stare down at your wallpaper that showcases a picture with you and your mother in what seemed to be in a professional setting as you both were seated on what seemed to be on an antique-like style couch while wearing similar baby-blue colour dresses as you had a familiar bouquet of blue hydrangeas with white roses in hand.

“Really?! She looks so young,” Kugisaki commented, as she, in a state of shock, grabbed your wrist and looked closer into the screen to observe the picture. “You really suit baby-blue as well, but black is more of your suit in my opinion,” your classmate commented as she released her grip before lifting her head off your shoulder to peer at your outfit.

At this current moment in time, you were wearing some black nylon cargo joggers as well as black trainers paired with a long-sleeved black cropped top since you knew it was going to be a little hot today but you never really liked wearing bright colours - you were just more comfortable with darker ones like your uniform.

“Do you think so? So, should I get this Balenciaga bag then?” you asked as you tilted the phone towards her to show the bag that has been on your wishlist for some time.

“You like Balenciaga too?!” Kugisaki screamed in shock as she turned to you with widened eyes, resulting in your doing the same, only for you both to then suddenly thoroughly search the whole website to tell each other your favourite items while planning a shopping trip together since you both were giving each other ideas on clothing to purchase.

“That’s such a cute jumper,” you commented, as you, once again, presented Kugisaki your phone for her to agree with you before showing a jacket that she has been eyeing for quite some time. “That looks so good, you could pair it with a jean skirt and maybe a top, maybe orange to match your hair,” you commented, leading Kugisaki to smile and nod at you.

“That jumper is quite long, so you could wear like a cropped white turtleneck or maybe the same coloured blue dress shirt, add that to your wishlist!” Kugisaki mentioned, while at the same time pressing the heart icon to add the item on your wishlist without you lifting a single finger.

Suddenly, while you two were busy looking up items together, a sudden shadow overcast you both leading you to look up to find a roughed up Fushiguro in front of you before he mentioned that it was Kugisaki’s turn to train which cause her to pout before giving her phone to you, so you could take care of it before making her way to the two second-years that were waiting for her as the shikigami user took her seat.

“How was it?” you asked, as you closed your phone, only to hear a sigh from your classmate.

“It’s not bad, just not used to using weapons,” Fushiguro commented, as he stared out into the distance to see Kugisaki running away from Panda with Zenin looking at them in complete confusion.

“We got more than a month left, you should be fine,” you commented, as you looked at your phone screen to see the date. “Besides, you won’t constantly use them but it’s good to use since you can combine physical attacks with weapon attacks when it comes to battle,” you explained as you continued to stare at the family photo on your phone.

‘When was the last time I wore a dress like that?’ you thought, as you tilted your head in confusion.

“What was the reason you kept being on the run?” Fushiguro suddenly asked, causing you to break from your trance to turn to look at your classmate in confusion, only to discover a nonchalant look on his face like it was a common question to ask - maybe it was for the jujutsu sorcerer world.

“Because I’m not supposed to exist Fushiguro, you’re a Zenin by blood, you should know that my clan shouldn’t exist after the golden age, we disappeared,” you answered since you were perplexed on why the sorcerer beside you, asked a question with an answer that he probably already knows.

“But you’re a powerful sorcerer, you wouldn’t have that much trouble would you?” Fushiguro asked, leading you to shift your eyes down to avoid any eye contact before turning back to the track field in front of you to see the now common sight of Kugisaki being spun around in the air by Panda.

“I don’t know what they’ll do to me, I don’t need a bounty on my head everywhere I go, it was better for me to hide in the shadows as long as the L/N clan did,” you answered with a hushed tone, to which Fushiguro barely caught since you turned so quiet.

ꕥ

“If any of the other clans knew of her existence, she would be forced to bring the L/N clan back up again or forced into a marriage,” Gojo explained, as he relaxed in his usual black chair, while Fushiguro leaned against the windows of the room they were at right now.

“Marriage?” Fushiguro questioned in confusion since he was confused on what the point of you being in a forced marriage when you were enough as a sorcerer by yourself.

“To continue the inheritance of her cursed technique,” Gojo informed his student, as he sat up from his relaxed posture. “Her inherited cursed technique is an extremely powerful one that any sorcerer wants, I don’t think she has mastered all the extreme spells as of this moment in time, but she knows what she is doing,” Gojo expanded on his explanation while tilted his glasses down to eye his student to check if he understood what he had said so far.

“But what would a marriage between the clans do? It would only decrease the change of the technique even being inherited,” Fushiguro asked, only for his teacher to smirk.

“I’m sure Y/N knows this, but that’s what the Zenin Clan demanded back in the Heian era before Sukuna was sealed, that a marriage was needed to ‘strengthen their power’ only for the L/N clan to refuse,” Gojo stated bluntly causing Fushiguro eyes to widen, as the Six Eye sorcerer continued with, “her real existence must be kept a secret and that’s my job now as her adoptive father since I’ve been entrusted with her safety,”.

“Entrusted? By who? L/N?” Fushiguro interrogated in a perplexed tone, only to receive a shrug at the end, gaining no answer to his pending question.

ꕥ

Continuously staring at you, Fushiguro couldn’t but recall the conversation he had with Gojo, remembering the details that were mentioned within the chat. There was no surprise in his mind now on why you were extremely anxious about him and Gojo when you first met them; you probably thought you were going to be forced into something that you didn’t want to happen.

“Do you…hate me?”

“Huh?” you confusingly said before quickly turning your head to look at Fushiguro, once again seeing his usually stoic face looking straight at you while you gave him the surprised look. “What makes you ask that?” you queried since you didn’t expect him to ask such a question especially since you both had worked together for a few weeks now as well as fought together against Sukuna back at the Eushi Detention Centre.

“Since I’m a Zenin by blood, do you-” Fushiguro explained before he was cut off by you flicking his forehead with your finger in an annoyed manner, as the impact reflected on your emotions causing Fushiguro to wince slightly at the pain since he didn’t expect it to hurt as much as it did.

“Why would I hate you? As much as I hate the Zenin clan for what they did to my clan, you and Zenin-senpai ain’t that bad. In fact, you both ain’t bad at all,” you stated before sighing in annoyance since it was an extremely stupid question for him to ask. “Fushiguro, if I hated you, I would have made you fight Sukuna alone and wait until he came to me, don’t you think, you drag?” you rhetorically asked, before lightly slapping the side of his head to shake some of his brain cells to wake up before looking at the track field to see Kugisaki getting up from the floor with an angered expression as she demanded a re-match causing you to giggle lightly at the sight.

“We’re cool Fushiguro, there’s no need to worry about it,” you reassured the sorcerer, before standing up on your feet with your hand out towards your classmate’s direction.

“Come on, it seems like we’re taking a break and about to run some errands for the second-years,” you commented, causing Fushiguro to turn to look at the field to see Inumaki signalling a timeout sign before imitating a drinking action, informing you both to get some water for them as well as yourselves.

Taking your hands, he pulled himself up before you both disconnected your hands, leading you to turn around to grab the desired bottles of water that were required before coming back to resume training.

“Gojo! Wait for me, we need to talk more about our shopping trip!” Kugisaki loudly shouted, causing you to halt and turn your head to see your classmate rushing up the stairs to come to you before resuming once she was by your side.

Slowly from behind, Fushiguro decided to walk behind you both as he knew his upperclassmen would tell him to hurry up with the errands that they had placed on your three.

“You really need to stop with your assaults Gojo,” Fushiguro stated, as he pressed his index and middle finger on the middle of his forehead, as he remembered the pain that came along with your flick as well as complaining about the side head slap he had gained from you.

“Nah, you just got to stop asking stupid questions Fushiguro,” you commented back before asking Kugisaki want she was planning to get.

‘So make sure you’re not alone in this world like I am Y/N, I want you to be happy even when we’re both stuck with this burden!’

‘I’m trying mother,’ you thought, as you tightly gripped your phone that was still in your pocket.

794 notes · View notes

oopsimbug · 3 years

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in which... y/n is just trying to put on eyeliner and harry is bored pt. two

a/n: when she’s back from a six month hiatus after making only ONE fic. wow, do i suck. for anyone who cares, school has been pretty rough. i’m actually procrastinating studying for an exam to finally upload this. it’s been pretty hard to balance both school and writing but oh well. anywho, here it finally is. it took so long to write because i wasn’t feeling very inspired by this. a lot of people asked for a part two and even though i kinda wanted to leave it on a sad note, i am a sucker for giving the people what they want, so sorry if this is a bit shit- i definitely don’t like this one myself. i guess i’m not one for fluffy endings. well, at least for this one i wasn’t. i really hope you enjoy it! more stuff to come, if school doesn’t mind fucking off for a little while (or maybe just forever?) xox -(a) bug

pairing: best friend! harry styles x reader

summary: Harry is worried about Y/n. Y/n is worried about Harry. Harry is solving it by thinking of ways to check on her, while Y/n uses cheesy pasta and the Fresh Prince of Bel Air as an excuse to not think. But what will happen when someone is at her door, and it’s not her delivery man?

warnings: angst, swearing, y/n and harry being idiotos, fluffy end, kissing

word count: 5.3k

It had been a week.

One gruelling, painfully long week.

Harry was biting his nails, staring up at the ceiling as he laid in his bed, worrying about her.

About how he fucked up.

He didn’t think that she would be upset for this long. He thought she would scream at him and then text him the following day, wanting to hang out- a silent “I forgive you”, he supposed.

But after two days of radio silence on her end, he decided to call her. The only problem was that her last words to him were “leave”. She wanted space. She needed to think things through- what things? Harry had no clue. But he had to respect her and her choice to not want him around. So with that, he put down the phone.

But a small part of him (okay fine, a big part of him), wanted her to just show up at his house so they could cuddle again, talking about the stupidest of things while they made cupcakes in his kitchen. They would be listening to groovy music and now and then, they’d stop mixing bowls and sifting flour to dance- well, they were horrible dancers, so more so just wave their hands, hips and shoulders around. It would be fun and would always end up with them laughing at one another. He would lick the batter and she would berate him, telling him that “one of these days, you are going to get salmonella and I’ll just laugh at your stupid ass” and he would retort with something witty and a bit flirty like “don’t worry darling, we both know you would be right at my side if I got sick. I know you can’t stand being apart from me” with a wink and a cheeky smirk. He just wants to see her in her oversized Space Jam hoodie and little basketball shorts. Or her short flower shirt and his sweatpants that she has to cuff at the bottoms because they’re too long. Or even-

He’s gotta stop thinking about her, or his brain will soon explode. But he just can’t stop. He tries to think of the happier moments, like her showing him a tour of her very healthy houseplants that she prides herself in, but every time he closes his eyes, all he can see is her teary face telling him to leave. So no, if he was given the choice to think of her flailing her arms around in his kitchen to dancehall tunes while making sweet treats or crying at something that he provoked, you bet your ass he’d choose the former.

But after the seventh day, he knew that something wasn’t right. This was too much “thinking time”. For all he knew, she could be fine, but she could also be positively bawling. She could be living for this free time, but she also could be waiting for him to make the first move. She could be wanting Harry out of her life for her benefit forever, but she also could be feeling lonely and counting the seconds for their makeup, just like he was.

That was it. He had to go see her and make sure his best friend was okay.

He practised what he was going to say to her in his car on the way to her apartment. “Y/n, I’m so sorry for how I acted. I didn’t stop to think about how you were feeling and didn’t take your emotions into account which was unbelievably wrong of me. I’m truly sorry. It’s just that I really care about you and you’re my best friend and I can’t see you choose a tinder fuck over me and if I saw him in the street I would knock his lights out and I just want to kiss you, can I kiss you, oh god please let me kiss you I just want to-“

Fuck, what was wrong with him? Why was he so upset? He had been on plenty of dates with other celebrities and models and she was always on the sidelines, cheering him on. So why was he getting so touchy-feely about a single tinder date? Maybe he was just in desperate need of attention. He hadn’t had a girlfriend for almost one year and casual fuck arounds also stopped about four months ago, so maybe he just needed to fuck someone quick. That would explain why he sees his best friend’s kindness and natural flirty nature as something more romantic. Every laugh at his jokes, every look in her eyes, every graze of her hand on his thighs as she leans over him to get her drink on the side table next to him, he becomes more switched on and awake. She leaves him feeling giddy and excited at every conversation. “This can’t just be because I’m horny right?” he cannot believe he would ever be that horny. What the hell was he going to do?

This is pathetic she thought.

I’m pathetic.

She let out a huge sigh before shoving another forkful of cheesy pasta into her mouth.

What am I doing?

The answer?

Eating carbs upon carbs upon carbs, lounging on her comfy sofa in the most comfortable, yet daggiest pair of pyjamas ever while watching reruns of The Fresh Prince of Bel-Air for the fiftieth time, actively avoiding all commitments, housework and jobs that involve moving further than to the kitchen, which even then was an embarrassingly burdening trek on its own.

But she let it slide. How could she not? She was upset and this was how she coped. That’s what she kept reminding herself as she boiled more and more pasta watching the days pass her by without realisation, but now, she’s beginning to question if this was the best idea. Pushing all thoughts of him out of her mind by not looking at her phone just in case he called or texted. But she was beginning to struggle.

It wasn’t his fault. He didn’t know what inner turmoil she was facing. He seemed genuinely hurt when she snapped at him. He truly didn’t understand why she took so much offence to the playground ribbing, it seemed. And she had to go be a dick and ignore him. He was probably worried sick. How many times would he have called to check up on her? 10? 15? The more she thought about it, the more she wanted this stupid feud to be over and just be in his arms again, even if it’s just as a friend. So she caved. Turned on her phone, expecting there to be at least a call or a text asking if she was still alive or not. And although she did receive a message of that likeness, it wasn’t from Harry, no. It was from her daily water tracking app, pleading her to fill in her daily intake of water so as to not die of dehydration after she was suspected to have not drunk any for the entire week when in reality, she was just too in her head to open her stupid phone and log her water.

Wow, she thought.

Now not only has Harry chosen to not speak to you, but you also look like a huge idiot right now. Of course, he wouldn’t want to talk to you! You got pissed at him for absolutely no reason and now he hates you. He’s gonna ask for his cardigan and track pants that he keeps at your house in case he wanted to sleepover. He’s going to take back all of his little knick-knacks that he leaves over, like the cute diffuser that he leaves because he knows you need it for your constant hay-fever that blocks your nose and then he’s going to declare that you aren’t friends anymore and then you will never get the chance to tell him how you feel and then-

Her panicky brooding is interrupted by a knock on the door.

“Who the hell could that be?”, she thinks. It was too late for it to be the postman with her package containing her entire Amazon wish list that she bought on the third day of mourning to make herself feel better. But it couldn’t be Mrs Xiao asking her if she had any holes in her shirts that needed stitching. The sweet old lady fell asleep at 8:37 pm sharp after her medicine that she’d take at 8:30 pm would kick in (which she learnt after spending nights over at her apartment where her niece, Mei, took care of her. Y/n would learn traditional recipes like baozi and watch movies with her two friends all the time). It couldn’t be Mei either, she was always in online uni lectures from 8:30-10:30 pm, locked away in her little study, so as to not bother or be bothered. So now, a little panicked, Y/n wondered who was truly at her door?

Another two knocks come, echoing off the walls of her little apartment as she turns down the volume of the program she was watching. She stares at the door from her couch, debating whether she should risk getting stabbed by a possible murderer or not, before ultimately deciding that life was too short. She was also getting sick and tired of the knocks that kept arriving in threes. She swings her legs off the couch and onto the floor, pushing them into her slippers so that her feet wouldn’t touch the cold floor, waddling her way to the door before shyly opening it, peeking at who it could be through the tiny crack in the opening, hoping whoever it was wouldn’t mind her current state: belly filled with pasta, hair knotty, giant shirt with sweatpants on and Harry’s patchwork cardigan hanging off her shoulders- which she had been wearing all day, cherishing the pretty piece of clothing and his scent imbedded in it, taking it all in just in case he asks for it back. She peeps at the torso of this mystery person, realising that Harry owns the jumper worn by them, before looking up and locking eyes with a worn out and tired eyed Harry, one hand in the pocket of the familiar hoodie and another extended out near the door, ready to knock again before freezing when it opens up all the way to show herself to her best friend. He doesn’t eye her up and down cheekily like he normally does when she is wearing pyjamas, wolf-whistling at her relaxed state, claiming that “You look runway-ready, my love! Do a twirl for the crowd, will you?”. Instead, he stares her right in the eyes with what looks like almost relief, before smiling a weak and broken smile.

One of them needed to break the silence or both would have just stared at each other in her doorway until the world exploded. So she starts.

“Hi.” her voice hovers a tinge above a whisper, almost as though if she dared to speak louder, this probable illusion of the one she loves would fade away. He lights up a little bit, probably relieved that she started the conversation.

“Hey,” his soft voice matched her volume and tone as if he too didn’t want this to be a dream. “May I come in?” The words sound awkward to her coming out of his mouth. Harry never had to ask for permission to be invited in- he usually just strolled in without so much as a holler to indicate he was present, finding amusement in scaring her instead while she was doing whatever she was doing, whether that be reading, watching a movie, cooking or napping. They were the best of friends and never had to inquire about entry to each other’s domains, along with other small things like if they had anything in their kitchens to eat or if they could sit somewhere, so hearing it was a little disheartening and provoked Y/n to think about how serious this situation was.

“Okay”, she replied after the pause of contemplation, opening the door fully so that the lanky boy could follow along behind her, like a little puppy. She didn’t like how awkward the situation was. She just wanted things to go back to what they were.

But then you wouldn’t be able to tell him you love him... her inner voice argued. And she agreed. She knew that yes, this will be awkward, but it’s an opportunity for him to listen to her and know that she isn’t joking.

“Would you like some tea?” She enquires. They’ll need to handle this like proper grown-ups (which in all honesty, isn’t their dynamic- it’s more like first-year uni students who are mature enough to have deep conversations but still laugh at dad jokes and anything remotely serious, like a painting with boobs), and from what she knows, or has seen in movies when the characters are being serious, is that you need tea or a drink of that sort and a sit down on the couch where you talk stuff out. So that’s exactly what she does.

“Yes please,” Harry’s soft voice replies as he toes off his boots that most definitely cost more than her apartment. Y/n nods and heads to the small kitchenette and flips the switch on the electric kettle before going into her cupboard that housed the mugs. Harry stood awkwardly near the sofas, and to save him the embarrassment of waiting while standing, Y/n invites him to sit with a small, “You can take a seat,” and a quick glance at him before returning her gaze to the mugs to make herself look busy. She didn’t want to look him in the eyes for more than three seconds in fear of bursting into tears and the worn out and tired sight of him. She shakes the thought out of her head and begins to prepare the mugs.

Y/n put two teabags in her mug while putting one in Harry’s. She was raised in a household of avid tea drinkers and she inherited her strong tea quirk from her father who would always keep two teabags with only a dash of milk, and the only difference between her tea and her fathers was that Y/n wasn’t strong enough to take her tea without sugar, unlike her father, who thought that drinking unbelievably concentrated leaf juice with milk was a fun and relaxing time. On the other hand, Harry liked to keep one tea bag in his mug while he drank it, but just like her father, he too took little to no sugar with his cup, being the health freak he was. And early in their friendship, when she mentioned it to him, Harry chuckled and chirped, “Your father is a smart man. He has to be for raising amazing and talented people like your siblings. I’m not sure what went wrong with you though...” while booping her nose as they laid together under a tree for a little picnic. And though she rolled her eyes at him and punched his shoulder for the sly dig at her, she was practically beaming at the fact that he thought her family was smart. Harry had no idea how much that meant to her. Y/n loved her entire family, and she was unbelievably close to them, so it made her entire week to know that Harry, someone she respected and loved so much, recognised how talented and smart each of her family members were. Don’t get her wrong, she didn’t need the validation to know that her family was amazing, but she felt so special knowing he took the time to notice. He did that a lot though. Doing things that meant a lot to her without batting an eye. Saying things that only a person as observant as he could notice, like complimenting her eye colour in the light and asking her to read for him because he constantly mentions how much he loves her voice.

Y/n looked over to the same sweet guy she fell head over heels for, who was sitting on her couch, fidgety as ever, and wondered if they would ever be the same after the very next moments to come. She didn’t want things to change between them, but she was dying inside knowing that he wasn’t hers. And getting over him was not in the question, after the fiasco that happened last week. She just wished she could get inside his head to sate her painful curiosity.

What is he thinking about?

What is she thinking about?

It’s the million-dollar question running through his mind. What was she pondering over as she made them tea? Did she want to talk to him? Was she mad that it took him so long to find the balls to face her? Was she as nervous as he was? Was she worried that they would never be the same again like he was?

He was going into panic mode, questioning everything, while probably looking stupid as ever. As much as he regretted how awkward things were now, and the fact that he instigated her to lash out at him a week ago, he was realising that he was not regretting the fact that he did it. He didn’t want her to go out with someone else, and she didn’t. And yes, of course, he feels bad-beyond bad, in fact- for making her cry, and wishes he could take it all back, he also sees this as an opportunity to tell her how he feels about her. He could finally tell her that he thinks about her all the time. About her soft smile, her bright eyes, her melodic laugh, her speaking voice that brings butterflies to his stomach. He could tell her about how he loses himself at work, the grocery store, fuck- even at events- thinking about what she was doing at her house. Was she under her blankets on her couch, watching some corny tv show? Was she baking her signature choc chip cookies that taste like the gods blessed every single biscuit on the tray before they were put in the oven? Was she knitting her cat, Chesnut, another rug to plonk herself down on, with her feet up on the ottoman as she listened to the 7 o’clock news on the radio? Was she writing a paper for another deadline? Something so sophisticated, like the exploration of white and male privilege and how it is ingrained in our society? Something that Harry tried to understand and research so that he could stay in the loop with his smart girl’s interests, but he always struggled with.

It was a huge insecurity of his. Not that his best friend was smarter than he was, no way. He treasured the fact that she could and would whip his ass at a debate on things like the state of the world, or human rights. She could school him on global politics, languages, maths, science, history and literally anything else, and he would be cheering her on. What he was insecure about was her realising that he was probably slowing her down in life. Y/n was well within her rights to kick him out of her life for being nothing but a freeloader and stopping her from reaching her full potential, what with him constantly stopping her from her own life to help him go through shit happening in his. Whenever he was sad, or confused, or upset, Y/n was the first person he would talk to and he feared that she would realise that he was probably taking advantage of her and stop talking to him. And that scared him. It scared him because he knew that she didn't need him at all, but he needed her to do anything in life. Every major and minor decision in his life has been approved by Y/n first, and not because she was a controlling friend who didn’t trust him with his own life, but because Harry needed her validation. Harry Styles, a world-famous superstar, had girls, guys and non-binaries at his feet, following his every beck and call. Harry Styles, who was on the cover of every magazine, known by every celebrity, dated only the most perfect of women, required validation from Y/n, a psychology major at a small university. Y/n, who liked to plan her day out on a to-do list, end up not doing anything on that to-do list and cry about it afterwards. Y/n, who breaks it down to “Murder She Wrote” by Chaka Demus & Pliers like it’s her last 4 minutes and 5 seconds alive on this Earth while making pancakes. Y/n, who cries more when she’s laughing while watching Tik Toks than she does during sad movies.

To celebrities, Y/n was nothing but a regular. But to Harry, she was all. She was the warmth of a sweater that you toss in the dryer for a few minutes to make it extra toasty. She was the pad of butter that you spread onto your pumpkin sourdough toast and it ends up being exactly the amount you wanted. She was the feeling when you are driving home from a long day of interviews and premiers, and you’re on the freeway and the windows down and you just… exist. She is the feeling you get when you watch Pride and Prejudice, and the relief of when you find the perfect word to end a lyric. She is when your shoes fit perfectly, and when you finish a book so utterly fulfilling that you lie there in a trance, looking up at your ceiling at 3 am, wondering how you could have been so lucky to be able to be blessed with an ending like the one you just read. Y/n was all those things and more.

And that’s why he had to tell her he loved her. No matter how scared he was.

***

The electric kettle is finished boiling the tea all too quickly as the bubbling comes to an end and the distinct click of the switch turning back off echoes around the silent apartment. Y/n had poured the scalding hot water into the two cups she had prepared stared into them.

It was time. She had tried to avoid this for as long as possible, but now it was the moment to face the music. She picked up the two mugs of tea and brought them to her lounge where Harry was sitting on her worn in green sofa, staring at her coffee table, eyebrows scrunched, pouted lips, deep in thought, before looking up at her with wide green eyes, and followed her to where she stood in front of him. She passed his mug to him before sitting on the comfy chair a few feet away from the sofa and from him, putting some distance in between them for her sake, so that she wouldn’t try to hug him and say sorry without saying what she needed to say first. Which she needed to start talking about now, so as not to sit in the awkward silence created by the two.

Say something!!

“So…’

Jesus fuck…. was that all you could think of? Wow. I am going to lose my best friend.

Y/n was choking.

“I am so sorry,” Harry’s voice intercepts, raspy from the lack of use, looking up from the coffee table he seemed so interested in. “I am so fucking sorry Y/n. I have no excuse as to why I was making fun of you that day. I pushed too far and I am a shit friend for not noticing that you were already on edge. It was so wrong of me and I am so sorry.” He stopped himself before he started to ramble, looking at her with eyes filled with an emotion she couldn’t decipher.

Y/n felt… unsatisfied. Why did she feel this way? He apologised, right? So why does she feel unfulfilled? Why does she want him to say more? He hit all of the points he had to for a standard apology, so why did she think he hadn’t done enough? Was it that little optimist in her brain hoping he would maybe reveal a slight attraction to her? Maybe tell her that he loves her, and has loved her forever and ever? Confess that she has bewitched him, body and soul so that she didn’t have to? God, was she an idiot. But a lovestruck idiot at that. She bites her tongue and replies.

“Harry, I forgive you. Although you were annoying as ever,” She rolls her eyes and smirks, while he lets out a breathy, half-assed chuckle, showing his acknowledgement at her attempt to ease the lowered yet still prevalent tension. She continues. “ I understand that you were just trying to have fun. I guess I was the one who irrationally lashed out . I am always okay with you poking fun at me, but I was just frustrated and tired and I took it out on you. I’m sorry for the improper communication and I’m sorry for pushing you away when we should’ve just talked…”

“I forgive you too. I think this was just miscommunication on both parts.” He stared into her eyes, almost as if he could sense the discontent in her, but chose to ignore it.

“I guess so.” She halfheartedly answered, not really knowing where to take the conversation next. They had both apologised, but evidently still had things to say. Well, Y/n had things to say, that’s for sure, but she was pretty sure that Harry wanted to say something too. He had that look on his face where he wanted to say something but was forcing himself not to.

What does he want to say? Why can’t he say it to my face? I mean, sure, I’m also hiding shit I wanna say, but I have an excuse. This could ruin our friendship. What does he have to say?

“Great,” Harry replies, trying to fill the awkward pauses and conversation that is being held. He still looked like he had something to say, but seemed like he was not budging.

Well, if he’s not saying anything, I’m not either. Why do I have to confess my feelings and put our friendship on the line if he isn’t even going to say what’s on his mind?

“So, are we good?”

“I don’t know. Are we? I mean, I forgive you and you forgive me, right?”

“Right… No yeah, we’re alright. We’re completely fine!” Y/n replies quickly. Why the fuck would you say that? You’re not fine.

There is a pregnant pause and Y/n has half a better mind to just get up, walk to the bathroom again with her head down and lock herself in there till he leaves again, because she cannot take this awkward conversation. Not with him. She shifts, ready to stand up to get some water, when Harry looks at her, confusion and slight panic setting into his face.

“Wait. I don’t think I’m fine…” She looks up at the boy sitting in front of her, reading the words from her mind like they were scribed on a piece of paper in the blackest of ink, permanent and bold. Her heart stuttered. What else did he want?

“Is everything okay, H?” she tentatively asks. He loses eye contact with her, gaze lowering towards the table in front of him

“I-” he pauses, trying to collect his thoughts while simultaneously trying to explain to her why he wasn’t okay. “I just- fuck” his head falls down, his face inches away from the hot tea in his hands, the humid steam billowing out of the mug and warming his elegant face as he takes a deep breath and tries once more to convey his thoughts. “I don’t want us to be friends again.”

Her heart stops. This could go one of two ways. He could either be confessing his hatred or his adoration for her, and either one would probably end with her imploding. She tries to take a neutral tone when she replies.

“What does that mean, H?”

He looks at her once more. “It’s not enough, Y/n... “

“What?” She is confused. Her friendship isn’t enough? How is she supposed to reply to that?

“I want more. I don’t want us to just be friends. I want to be more with you. I want to do more with you. I want to do things that friends… they shouldn’t do together…”

Is he trying to confess he likes her? Why, in all the ways you could speak, would he choose to speak like that?! She has had enough of him dawdling around his feelings. “Harry, stop being cryptic and fucking tell me what’s going on?!”

“I love you, Y/n! I fucking love you, Y/n. So much. And it is eating me from the inside out. I hate that we can’t be normal anymore, and I hate that you don’t love me the way I love you, but I cannot sit here and pretend everything is fine, because I love you.”

Y/n is stunned. Frozen in her spot. Can’t move, can’t speak, can’t breathe. Stuck in space, and stuck in time.

Holy fucking shit… he loves me…

While Y/n processes the life changing knowledge that her best friend loves her, her best friend conveniently sits next to her, wishing that he was dead for the letdown he was about to receive.

“Say something… please, for the love of God, say something!”

****

She looks up at Harry. Not Harry Styles, playboy, whore, singer, millionaire, but instead; Harry, her best friend of five years, reddened face out of embarrassment. She sees the mortality in his eyes. Feels his presence so heavily in the moment. She is in awe. True awe of him, and his ability to love her. And with that awe- and that stupid look on her face, she reaches up and cradles his face in her hands, brushing her thumbs softly over his plush pink lips. He stands just as still as her, barely breathing, as if it would shatter the fantasy to stardust and he would wake up in his bed, cold shivers running down his spine, as has happened previously whenever he thought of this moment, staring up at his ceiling at 3:40AM wondering why he thought of his best friend in such a way. She creeped closer to his face before stopping a breath away from him, and whispered.

“Is this okay?”

She looked into his eyes, and he looked into hers, both never feeling so alive before. He wishes to tell her that she needn’t ask for his permission, and that he wants to kiss her forever. Eternally locked in an embrace that holds their souls together. But all he can muster is a weak and broken whisper back.

“Please,”

She can hold it for no longer, and leans in the rest of the way, their lips moulding together, for the very first time, eyes fluttering close, as his hands reach to grab her by the hips to straddle him, deepening the kiss even further. And when they part for breath, panting for air with slightly moist lips, they touch foreheads, eyes still closed. Words needn’t be exchanged- everything that yearned to be said was useless, as it could never describe how they truly felt for each other. So hopelessly besotted with one another, that all they could do was breathe together before kissing once more, hoping that their actions could provide even an iota of an idea of how much they love one another.

Two best friends, turned lovers forevermore.

#by bug #harry styles angst #harry styles x reader #harry styles x y/n #harry styles imagine #harry styles #harry styles fluff #hope you have a wonderful day my little pots of sweet tea!

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utopianvoices · 3 years

Text

past, present, future → b.chan

synopsis: Your best friend drags you to his high school reunion against your will, and never have you encountered such chaos. Alternatively, you go on the journey of making more friends, and a potential lover.

genre: high school acquaintances to lovers au; fluff, one second of angst

pairing: bang chan x reader

word count: 14.4k

warnings: explicit language, alcohol consumption, kinda dialogue heavy (oops)

note: i am BACK with this mess of a fic. it took me too long to finish this, and i apologise for any shitty writing :3 thanks to my little babie @curanonemu for making sure i finished this and supporting me as usual muAH. new formatting on posts too weeeee (new year, new me fsdhfgs jk no)!! also, synopsis kinda sucks i’m sorry :P hope y’all enjoy! x

You did not want to go for your high school reunion dinner.

High school is a time for many that is either the best, or worst time of their lives. Forever friends are found there and painstakingly embarrassing memories are made in run down buildings with people you care about. Except, you didn’t have any such attachments.

Those three years were nothing but a filler for you as you studied, helped out in the library, and hung out with one person you called your best friend.

And on top of it all, it wasn’t even a high school reunion dinner meant for you.

The night the bomb is dropped on you, Changbin walks into the living room of the apartment you both share just outside the grounds of your university, and goes straight to the kitchen to fix himself a bowl of cereal because cooking and Changbin did not get along well. The apartment was way cheaper than the dorms your school provided, and it definitely did not have any nosy RAs who were just out there to torture students for their own viewing pleasure.

On top of all that, you could live with your best friend and not some random stranger who might very much as well be a psychotic killer. Perhaps, Changbin could have some questionable habits, like talking to himself in a baby voice while looking in the mirror, but nothing that threatened your life.

You hear Changbin’s phone ringing from the kitchen as you aimlessly flip through the shows available on Netflix, deciding which new show you should watch and commit to, when your best friend’s boisterous laughter fills your ears. Used to the noise, you roll your eyes before increasing the volume of the TV, finally deciding to rewatch Sherlock.

Fifteen minutes later, you’re about to solve the known mystery together with Benedict Cumberbatch when Changbin walks in front of the TV, automatically eliciting a whine from you as you crane your neck left and right to catch a glimpse of the screen.

“What the fuck, Bin?” You finally yell, frowning at the boy in front of you. Realising that he probably wanted something, considering the fact that he wasn’t moving till you asked him, you switch the TV off and settle back into the sofa, throwing him a death glare. “What do you want from me, pest?”

Something’s definitely amiss when you see Changbin shuffling his feet and looking at the ground, a guilty smile ever-present on his face.

“Whatever it is, my answer is no,” you say distantly, leaning back into the sofa with crossed arms. “So give it up.”

“Oh c’mon Y/n! At least hear me out?” Changbin cries out loudly, dropping onto his knees with clasped hands.

Heaving out a sigh, you slowly unfold your arms and lean forward, eyebrows raised as you nod at the poor boy in front of you. “I’ll hear you out. But don’t expect me to say yes.”

“Um...” Changbin starts, eyes darting around the room as he tries to find the right words. “So my high school friends are having a reunion dinner next week and I told them I’d go, but I also said I’d bring you along and they were too happy and so now I think you’ll have to come with me but-”

“Woah woah woah, a high school reunion party? Absolutely not.”

It’s not like you had anything against his friends. You did have brief interactions with a few of them in high school and you knew they were pretty decent lads, but there was no way you were following Changbin to what was meant to be a friends’ gathering.

“But why not!” Changbin whines, waddling over to you on his knees. “It’ll be really fun!”

“Yeah, fun for you,” you deadpan, staring at your pitiful best friend who has now resorted to throwing you puppy eyes. “They’re your friends after all, not mine.”

“That’s right. But they could be. Don’t you think it’s time you start finding more friends who are not me?”

Changbin’s once pitiful eyes held something other than desperation at that moment; they held concern.

It was true that you had no other friend other than Changbin. You knew lots of people, sure, but you wouldn’t call them your friends. With no friends to your name other than that one, it also wasn’t hard to guess that you never dated too. But all that mattered is that you were fine with it, right?

“You know that I don’t need any other friends. You’re more than enough for me. Truthfully, I don’t think I could deal with another Changbin in my life.”

Your words incite chuckles from Changbin, but that doesn’t stray him from his original goal.

“How about this,” he starts, opting to sit cross-legged on the floor because his knees were starting to hurt way too much. “You come to the reunion with me, and the moment you feel uncomfortable, we both can leave no questions asked. Deal?”

As tempting as that sounded, you knew it was not fair to cut Changbin’s precious time with his friends just because you did not want to hang out with new people. “That’s not fair to you.”

Shaking his head, Changbin stares at you, the fire in his eyes clearly visible, and you know that he had made up his mind. “I don’t care. It’s either you follow me and we can leave whenever, or I don’t go at all.”

There was no turning back now. You knew that in the end, what Changbin wants, he gets.

You sigh numbly before nodding your head in defeat, dreading the day that was to come where you had to leave the comfort of your apartment.

With no warning, you’re engulfed in a tight hug by a nuisance chanting “thank you” a million times. You ease into the hug, wrapping your arms around him and giving him a light squeeze, before pulling back to see that he had a smile similar to the one on your face.

“I guess you’re right about me needing more friends. I can’t be annoying you for the rest of my life, right?”

ii.

You’re once again reminded why you don’t go for social gatherings as you take in the various clothes strewn all over your room.

“Hey- Woah, what happened here?” Changbin asks, bewildered at the sight in front of him. “It looks like a hurricane hit your room or something.”

“Yes, it’s called Hurricane Y/n Is Screwed,” you reply sarcastically, before sinking down into your bed in defeat. Looking up at your best friend, you decide to give it a shot and put on your most pitiful face. “Do I really have to go?”

“Yes, you really have to go,” Changbin replies without sparing you another glance, as he sifts through the heap of clothes on your bed. “And get that ugly look off your face, please. It makes me want to barf.”

Flipping your best friend off, you manoeuvre yourself such that you’re facing Changbin, and look upon him in curiosity.

After what felt like forever, pieces of clothing are thrown at you, along with a reminder that you had three hours before you had to leave.

“Three?!” You screech, causing Changbin to wince and cover his ears. “You should’ve told me earlier so that I have more time!”

“What are you so loud for, you damn pterodactyl? And three hours is more than enough. We’re just going to a cheap restaurant a few blocks away because we’re all broke college students.”

Huffing at your insolent best friend, you grab the clothes he threw at you and make your way to the bathroom, not bothering to contemplate his decision because you knew he had pretty good taste in fashion. In fact, half the clothes you had in your wardrobe were bought with him as your advisor, so you’re really in no position to criticise his choices.

You stare at your reflection and let out a nervous breath; you weren’t used to meeting new people, and there was no way you were going to be able to handle a hoard of newly turned adults. The last thing you wanted was to cut Changbin’s time short with his friends, and as you stare at yourself in the mirror, you make a promise to yourself that you’ll get through the night by whatever means. Even if it meant hours of torture.

Changbin, with absolutely no urgency, is sitting on the couch watching the fourth Harry Potter movie, when you walk into the living room, makeup half done and still dressed in your stay-at-home clothes. Boys, you think.

“I think I need to know who and how many people will be there,” you finalise, watching Changbin pick up the remote and pausing the movie at exactly when Cedric dies; poor chap. “ So that I can, you know, mentally prepare myself.”

“You really don’t, but okay. There’ll be nine of us, including you. Minho, Hyunjin, and Felix from the dance team, Jeongin and Seungmin from the baseball team, Chan from the swimming team, soccer team, and honours board, and Jisung who was pretty much useless like me.”

“Wow.”

“In my defense, you’ve seen all of these dudes at least once,” Changbin says, shrugging his shoulders. “Anyway, they’re all really nice and fun so you have nothing to worry about.”

“Says you,” you mutter under your breath, before returning to your room to prepare for your doom.

iii.

The sign of the restaurant flickers periodically as you stand in the middle of the street with Changbin by your side. People brush past you as they hurry to meet their friends and families in the various restaurants lining the street, excitement evident in their steps.

Taking a deep breath, you push open the door. Immediately, a gush of warm air welcomes you, causing you to let out a content sigh.

“Hey Changbin!” A loud voice calls out from behind you, and the both of you turn in your place. The sight in front of you gives you equal amounts of anxiety and fear, as you wonder how you were going to handle the table of one, two, three… seven boys, including the embarrassment standing beside you, who was now busy doing some sort of weird wave in favour of a greeting.

“Changbin, please,” you plead, burying your face in your hands as you willed for someone to transport you back to your apartment so that you didn’t have to face reality and stand next to your shameless friend.

Chuckling sheepishly, your best friend finally stops, patting your back before walking towards the table at the back of the restaurant. “Oops sorry. Let’s go meet the rest!”

Here goes nothing.

Reaching the almost-filled table, your eyes dart from face to face, trying to see if you could remember anyone currently seated in front of you.

“Guys! This is Y/n, my best friend,”—at this, a few complaints erupt from around the table—”Gosh, fine. My other best friend.”

Immediately, at least three people shout their greetings your way.

“Hi Y/n! Nice to meet you!”

“Yo~ Changbin’s told us lots about you.”

“Y/n, sit beside me!”

Exasperated, your eyes flit around the table, trying your best to smile at all of them (which honestly turns out to look more like a pained grimace). Luckily, there was one seemingly sane person present.

“Shut up, everyone.” A boy with blue hair and sharp eyes shushes everyone. “Hi Y/n, it’s nice to have you here. I’m Jeongin.”

At this, the once quiet table is back to chaos as complaints are directed towards Jeongin for sneakily introducing himself first. Taking advantage of the mess, Changbin guides you towards the empty seats and finally settles the both of you down. Now all the seats were filled, except for one empty seat left beside you.

You’re about to ask Chanbgin about the empty chair, but before you can, he claps his hands, attracting everyone’s attention. “Okay, everyone will take turns introducing themselves. Seungmin, you start.”

The sandy haired boy seated on the right of Changbin waves both his hands while bouncing in his seat, reminding you of a puppy. “I’m Seungmin!”

Next is Jeongin, who just gives you a small smile.

Beside him, you see a blonde haired boy, what is up with the hair colours, who just smiles brightly, eyes shining brightly and freckles visible. “Hello, I’m Felix. It’s great to meet you!”

Taken aback by the deep voice, which was a total contrast to his cute appearance, you’re unable to hide the shock from your face. This triggers a bout of chuckles from the table; it was probably common for people to display similar reactions when meeting Felix.

Before pretty boy (that’s what you decided to remember him as) could introduce himself, the black haired boy resembling a squirrel interrupts him. “I’m Jisung!”

You recognise him as the one who shouted when you and Changbin entered the restaurant, and you’re about to acknowledge him when you’re cut off.

“Oi Han, it was my turn to introduce myself! Who allowed you to skip the line?”

“I do what I want,” was Jisung’s response, and pretty boy looked like he was one push away from murder.

Just as you’re sure that you were about to witness a murder, Changbin chides the two boys and breaks up the petty argument. “Just introduce yourselves without any nonsense, please.”

“I’m Hyunjin,” pretty boy mutters sulkily, giving Jisung a death stare. “And I can dance better than Jisung.”

“You motherf-”

“And I’m Minho,” the last person introduces himself, successfully cutting off Jisung’s profanity mid-word. “Sorry, don’t mind those two. They’re like Tom and Jerry.”

Smiling weakly, you muster up the courage to introduce yourself to the four pairs of eyes staring at you. Hyunjin and Jisung were busy having a staredown, while Changbin was eyeing the meat sizzling on the grill. “Hi, I’m Y/n, Changbin’s friend. It’s nice to meet all of you. Thanks for having me here.”

And just like that, everyone is back to their own conversations, with Changbin piling the perfectly done meat onto his plate. You take in a deep breath and look around the table at the happy faces.

This isn’t so bad, you thought, a little chaotic, but otherwise entertaining.

“They’re overwhelming huh?”

Any effort to mask your bewilderment vanishes as you catch the knowing look on Minho’s face. A guilty smile blooms on your face and you nod your head. “Just a little.”

“I get that,” he starts, but soon enough, there’s a content smile on his face that shows his love for his friends. “But at the end of the day, I know that these monkeys will be there for me no matter what, so I guess it makes it all worth it.”

Smiling softly at his words, you almost coo at the light blush dusting Minho’s face as reality catches up to him.

“Ahem anyway. How’s living with Changbin?” He clears his throat before changing the topic, instinctively putting some meat on your plate before helping himself, earning a grateful smile from you.

“It’s not too bad,” you start, feeling Changbin’s gaze on you after having overheard Minho’s question. “Except sometimes, he talks to himself in the mirror and it’s pretty scarring.”

��Y/n!” Changbin whines as Minho guffaws beside you, nodding his head to your answer, clearly having witnessed that side of Changbin before. “Wait till Chan comes. At least he’ll support me.”

At the unfamiliar name, you furrow your brows and the name in the form of a question tumbles out of your mouth before you could stop yourself. “Chan?”

“He’s not here yet,” Minho addresses your confusion, having heard your little slip up. “He had to oversee the training for the upcoming soccer match, being the captain and all, and apparently he had a tutoring session after. He should be here soon though.”

That explains the empty chair beside you.

“Oh, he needs to get tutored after training?” You ask, feeling bad for the unknown boy. Having to absorb information after physical activities is torture. You couldn’t even focus after 40 minutes of gym. “That’s rough.”

At your assumption, a cat-like smirk spreads across Minho’s face. “Oh no, darling. He tutors after his training.”

There’s no way you’re to be blamed for the first thought that pops into your head after discovering that said Chan was responsible and smart. You’ve seen people struggling with just one extracurricular, and begging teachers for extra credits because of poor time management.

So, it’s really not your fault that the first words that enter your head is, that’s hot.

Just then, the bell situated above the door rings, indicating that someone was entering the restaurant. You’re not bothered by it, until Felix’s deep voice fills your ear.

“Chan!”

It’s almost comical how slowly you turn towards the sound, blush threatening to fill your cheeks at your first impression of Chan, without even meeting him. And as Giovanni Torriano has once said:

Talk of the Devil, and he's presently at your elbow.

Your eyes follow the figure of the devilishly breathtaking boy walking towards your table. He’s still dressed in what you assume was his soccer jersey, black hair tousled from the wind and practice. Shaking your head, you rid yourself of that inappropriate thought and opt to stare at the bowl of radish that looked the most interesting to you.

“Hey guys!” Chan smiles widely at the group of friends, as a few of them immediately get up from their seats to greet him with their usual bro hug. He sets his things down beside Minho, and is taking his seat when he spots you. Confusion clear in his eyes, he looks around the table, silently asking for an explanation as to what a stranger was doing at their usual table.

You realise his staring and try to introduce yourself, but you find yourself unable to form sentences as the reality of who Chan was hits you.

The star swimmer of your high school’s swimming team, and the top student of every single year. He was the epitome of popular. Everyone knew his name, and apparently he had never missed one day of lessons or training. On top of that, he used to regularly tutor in the library.

“Oh, this is my friend Y/n!” Changbin pipes up, slinging an arm around you. “Same high school as us, and my roommate now.”

At this, the confusion clouding Chan’s hazel eyes clears up, and he turns to face you, extending a hand. “The one who used to carry thick books everywhere and helped out in the library right? I’m Chan!”

Being the complete opposite of your best friend, you’re sure no one has ever noticed you in the library. You blend in perfectly with the shadows and shelves, and you didn’t usually help the students out, opting to arrange the books in the storeroom—the one small thing you could do to help out the aged librarian who brought you mouth-watering brownies every Thursday.

The thick books, in your defense, was your attempt at trying to finish the Harry Potter series whenever you had the spare time. You never had to explain yourself because you never expected anyone to notice. Especially not the most popular guy in school who had a million other friends.

But there he was, in all his glory, eyes crinkled into crescents as he waits for you to shake his hand, seemingly remembering you when nobody else did.

A small nudge to your side from Changbin breaks you out of your reverie and you grab his hand, silently noting how soft they were. “Nice to meet you.”

Smiling at you, he gently shakes your hand before turning to the other boys, immediately making jokes and laughing along.

“What was that about?” Changbin whispers harshly, eyeing you and Chan suspiciously.

“What was what?”

“Chan remembering you! You’ve never even met before.”

Looking at your best friend, you shrug before reaching out for another piece of meat. “Beats me.”

Changbin opens his mouth to interrogate you more, when he’s successfully cut off by Seungmin.

“Y/n! Tell us more about yourself! I’m bored of hearing about these idiots.”

Jeers sound from around the table as you let out a nervous chuckle, aware of how everyone’s attention was on you. “Me?” You ask, pointing to yourself for extra confirmation.

Yea!” Seungmin replies, nodding vigorously. “What are you doing now, and how was high school for you, and just everything!”

Noting your hesitation, Changbin is about to step in to save you, but your hand on his thigh stops him. Looking at you curiously, he realises from your expression that you’re finally about to do what he had been nagging at you to do since day one of becoming your friend.

iv.

‘Is it possible for a stomach to burst from too much laughing?’ is what runs through your head as tears stream down your face from laughing uncontrollably at another joke Jisung was saying.

“Wait, I remember Changbin telling me that people used to refer to you as Baby Photos when you all played at the school shows,” you ask after you had recovered from your laughing fit, curiosity piquing. “What’s that all about?”

At the mention of the familiar name, the boys let out groans and Hyunjin starts hitting Jisung. “It’s all Jisung’s fault!”

“Basically, he somehow got ahold of all our baby photos and submitted it to the administration on behalf of us,” Changbin explains, rolling his eyes at the memory. “So if you see our yearbook, all eight of us have our baby photos instead of the actual photo we were supposed to submit.”

How is that even possible?!

“We still don’t know how he managed to do that.” Chan answers your unasked question, shaking his head fondly at the ridiculous memory.

At this, Jisung pipes up. “Everything is possible when you’re charming and handsome. You lot won’t be able to relate!”

And you finally agree that the beating Jisung gets after was well deserved.

“Restaurant’s closing in ten!”

The owner of the restaurant, a nice old lady who had a soft spot for the boys, calls out from the back. She had already let all of you stay past her usually closing time, and even gave you some free side dishes, together with a loving chide about how the boys don’t come and visit her anymore.

The screech of the chairs fill the place as everyone gets up, stomach and heart full from the meal and company. You smile to yourself, glad that you let yourself be convinced to follow Changbin because you had one of the best days in your life.

“Did you have fun today?” Your best friend asks with a smug smile, already knowing the answer.

“Shut up,” is all you can say—a clear sign that you were admitting defeat. “It was okay.”

“That wounds me,” someone speaks up from behind you, having heard your conversation with Changbin. You whip around to see Chan clutching his heart and wearing an exaggerated hurt face. “I thought we had a connection.”

“I-you, no, that’s not-what” you splutter, horrified at the thought of Changbin’s, and now apparently your, friends thinking that you didn’t have a good time with them. There was no way you could let them think as such when they had made you feel so comfortable, and have so much fun.

Your stuttering and horrified expression does it, and Chan bursts into laughter. “I’m so sorry, it was a joke. But your face!”

The guilt and regret is replaced with relief and irritation, and you smack his arm out of habit, something you always did to Changbin when he was being a pain in the ass. But as soon as you do it, you’re once again filled with regret because Oh my God it’s only been two hours, you’re not supposed to just smack people.

“Stop overthinking it, idiot,” Chan cuts you off, adding in a low tier insult to make you feel a bit better about your reflexes. “We’re friends now; all of us.”

Friend to friends. Now that’s an upgrade.

You’re about to say something, when you’re cut off by Changbin screeching unceremoniously as he glances at the time displayed on his lockscreen (it’s a picture of the two of you making ugly faces—he refused to change it).

“Shit, we’re going to miss the last bus that leaves from here!” He almost shouts, grabbing his and your things. “Adios bitchachos!”

A snicker or two echoes through the empty restaurant at Changbin’s farewell, together with requests of bringing you the next time they meet.

“Make sure Y/n comes for the next dinner! Doesn’t matter if you’re here or not!”

Jisung earns himself a string of vulgarities from Changbin for that, as he guffaws and hi-fives Hyunjin.

You’re barely able to say your farewell to the boys with Changbin dragging you out of the restaurant, but you manage to shout out a few words while waving. “Thank you for today! See you soon!”

The bus arrives just as you reach the bus stop, and Changbin all but collapses on one of the empty seats from the running you both did.

“I think I’m going to throw up.”

“You’re foul.” You’re staring at your best friend in disgust when he starts questioning you about the dinner, nausea forgotten.

“So…” he starts, pivoting in his seat to face you, cheek leaning against his hand which rested on the seat in front of him. “For someone who was dead set on not coming, you sure looked like you had lots of fun.”

Rolling your eyes at his words, you turn to face Changbin. “Isn’t that what you wanted? Me making more friends?”

“Of course, of course~” he drawls, smirk ever-present on his face. “And who do we have to thank for that?”

“And you ask me why I don’t listen to you or ask you for favours.” Turning your attention back to your phone, you open up Temple Run in hopes of keeping yourself occupied for the bus ride back; but Changbin had other plans.

Whining, he snatches your phone from your hands and slips it into his pocket. “Y/n! Tell me everything!”

“What do you want to know?!” you ask, exasperated. “You were there literally the whole time.”

“Yes I know, but I want to know what you think of all my friends!” Changbin claps his hands in excitement, leaning forward in anticipation. “Well, our friends now.”

You can’t help but sigh as you prepare for the long bus ride ahead—but somehow, you don’t miss the sudden warmth enveloping you as you recalled the past few hours.

“First of all, Jisung and Hyunjin are hilarious, it’s like…”

Two weeks later, and you’re knee deep in shit. Not literally, of course, but you might as well be.

It’s the infamous hell month in your university, where every student (regardless of major) has a shit ton of assignments and tests to complete, and the library is open 24 hours for poor souls like yourself.

It’s two in the morning when you’re working on your second essay of the day. There are crumpled balls of paper all over your desk and surrounding your bin, courtesy of your pathetic aim.

“You’re cleaning everything up later,” Changbin speaks up from across the dining table you both were sharing to get work done, tapping away on his equipment as he works on some new beat. “I don’t expect every ball to go in, but to miss everything? That’s some serious talent.”

“Shut your mouth, Seo.” Flipping your best friend off, you finally push yourself away from the table, stretching a bit before making your way to the kitchen to fix yourself a bowl of ramen in hopes of satiating the beast growling in your stomach.

As you open each shelf, you slowly come to the realisation that you were completely out of snacks and food. Even the single frozen bag of peas and empty ice cream tub stares back at you in pity as you scan the fridge.

Taking a breath to calm yourself, you slowly turn around to face your unsuspecting, so-called, best friend. Walking towards him, you knock the table a few times to get his attention.

He notices your presence, and removes his headphones to look at you quizzically, his full attention on your blank face.

“When were you going to tell me that you had consumed every single food item we have?”

It’s almost comical how quickly the blood drains from his face, as his eyes dart all around the room, skillfully avoiding you. If it were any other situation, you would’ve definitely laughed while falling onto the floor. But this wasn’t any other situation.

This was war.

And honestly, it would have been a war that you would’ve definitely won—if not for the loud sound your stomach just produced.

Narrowing your eyes at the accused seated a few feet away from you, you walk over to the countertop with your wallet, eyes not leaving Changbin for a second.

“I will deal with you when I am back from the convenience store.”

And with the sight of Changbin gulping imprinted in your mind, you slam your apartment door behind you and make your way grumpily to the 24-hour convenience store located seven minutes away.

vi.

The electronic chime sounds throughout the store as the part-timer throws you a friendly greeting from the counter. “Welcome!”

Reciprocating with a smile of your own, you take slow steps towards the shelf with the various assorted packets of ramen, and your hand automatically reaches for your favourite one. Just as it comes into contact with the plastic, you can feel yourself salivating and your stomach growls in appreciation. It’s a myth, you think. There’s no way food like carrots and asparagus is what gets students through school. The only saving grace you have during this period is packets of ramen and chocolate milk. Countless numbers of assignments and tests are already torturous enough; healthy, tasteless food on top of that? No, thanks.

Clutching the ramen packet in your hands like it was the treasure of your life, you walk towards the milk section to complete your meal with your favourite carton of chocolate milk. There was something about the combination of milk that combats the spice from the ramen, and you’re about to drop onto your knees right there and then to worship the people who invented ramen and chocolate milk, when you see the last carton being taken away right in front of your eyes.

Without any second thoughts, you rush towards the person and grab their arm, already getting ready to pull out the sob story of how you absolutely need the chocolate milk to survive. Surprised by the sudden contact, the man holding the carton whips his head towards you, eyes wide.

There’s a fleeting sense of familiarity that passes through you when you see the hazel peeking out from above the mask that covered the rest of his face, but you’re too preoccupied to dwell on the thought. Just as you’re about to open your mouth to beg, you’re cut off by an all too familiar voice.

“Y/n?”

Huh?

You stare at each other for a few seconds before the realisation of who you were holding, no, clinging onto dawns on you.

“C-Chan?”

In a lively city that thrived at night, there were a thousand other 24-hour convenience stores scattered all around in every corner. It also wasn’t everyday that you decided to go to the convenience store for food, opting to go to the grocery stores instead. So, if you calculated correctly, the chance of you bumping into Chan at 2:30 a.m. at that very particular store should be close to never.

Yet, there he was standing right in front of you, chocolate milk clutched in one hand.

“What are you doing here?”

“Oh I came here to water my plants.”

Plants?

You’re more than confused, till you hear the soft snicker that escapes his mouth. Narrowing your eyes at his antics, you decide to bite back with a “Ha ha, very funny.”

“So… Are you planning to hold onto me forever?” Chan teases you, eyes gesturing to your hand that was still clutching onto him, before looking back at you with a twinkle in his brown eyes. “Because I wouldn’t be opposed to that.”

With the whole bumping-into-Chan thing that happened, it had completely slipped your mind that you were still holding onto him. You snatch your hand away in horror, eyes widening as you feel the heat creep up your neck. “S-sorry.” And before you could stop yourself, you also continue to spill why you had grabbed his arm in the first place. “I was just craving for chocolate milk, and the one you took was the last carton left.”

Looking back and forth at you and the carton, you start to feel like an absolute idiot, until he reaches out and pushes the carton into your hands. “You can have it then,” he says, and walks away. “Stay right there, let me grab some ramen and we can have supper together!”

You stare at the carton for a few seconds, the droplets of water that formed on the outside cool against your fingers. On a normal day, you would have refused the milk vehemently, telling the other person not to worry and to have the last carton. But today wasn’t any other day.

And Chan wasn’t any other person.

We’re friends, after all, is what echoes in your mind as you look up at the boy walking towards you, two packets of ramen in his hand and a carton of strawberry milk. Smiling at him, you finally express your gratitude for his kind sacrifice.

“Thanks for this,” you say, waving the carton in front of him. “I don’t think I would have made it through the night without it.”

Nodding with a smile, he tears his two packets of ramen open and pours in the hot water that was situated at the back of the store, grabbing yours from you in the process. “What brings you here at this hour? I’m pretty sure you wouldn’t be craving ramen and chocolate milk in the middle of the night on any other day.”

“You’re right about that,” you reply dejectedly, recalling the big pile of assignments waiting for you back at the apartment. “It’s hell month in school, and I’m drowning in work. On top of that, Changbin exhausted every single food source we have at home!”

Chan does his very best to hold back his laughter at your expression; he knew you were angry, but you looked as threatening as a kitten. And thankfully he succeeds, because he really did not want to be on the receiving end of your wrath. Although, he thinks, you really are not going to be able to do much damage.

“How dare he,” Chan agrees, finally taking a seat beside you, the steam from the ramen warming his face up. “Hey but, if he hadn’t done that we wouldn’t have bumped into each other here.”

You nod your head in agreement, thinking about how to start a casual conversation, when you are suddenly hit with the realisation that you knew essentially nothing about Chan. You didn’t know what university he went to, what he majored in, and what he was doing in the convenience store that late at night too.

One question at a time, you decide.

“What are you doing out this late anyway?” you ask, slurping the noodles and breathing out in relief at the taste of the ramen against your tongue.

“I come here often,” is what he replies, before taking a sip of his milk. “My uni’s about fifteen minutes from here, and I usually work the best at this time. Being a music production major, there aren’t very strict deadlines, but I’ve still got to get my shit done.”

Oh. That’s all your questions answered.

You know the trouble of trying to get questions out, especially for you, who has never really made the effort in going the extra mile in interacting with people. It’s annoying and nerve-wrecking, and probably the biggest reason why you refused making new friends. The whole process was just painful. So, when Chan answers your unasked questions, you feel the hypothetical weight lifting off your shoulder, and you open your mouth to express your gratitude. At least, that’s what you had planned to do.

“Are you a mind reader?” you blurt out, before immediately clamping your mouth shut and facepalming. “Ugh, sorry. I have a really bad habit of blurting out whatever comes to my mind.” You groan at your inconvenient habit, and Chan pats the top of your hand in hopes of comforting you.

“I just meant to say that I was thinking of asking you those questions and you answered them even before I asked.” Chan looks at you with a smile, intrigued by your personality. You clearly didn’t have any other friends other than Changbin—but you never looked as if you were upset about it. It was also clear that you were content with not interacting with people, but when you did, you were never rude about it and you really did try your best. Never in a million years would he have thought that the student scurrying around the library with tons of books would turn out to be someone like you.

“At least that means you’re an honest person!” Chan says, beaming at you. “C’mon, learn to look at the brighter side of things.”

Shrugging your shoulders with a tired smile on your face, you turn back to your ramen, which has now gone soggy due to your little chit-chat with the boy beside you.

There’s a comfortable silence that hangs between the two of you, until Chan speaks up again. “What’s your major? I realised I never asked.”

At the mention of school, you pull an automatic stank face before replying. “English Lit with a minor in Philosophy. The worst decision of my life.”

“And why’s that?”

“I never knew there’d be this much essay writing!” you cry out, throwing your head against the table. The rest of your words come out muffled, but somehow Chan manages to catch it. “I mean, I knew there was going to be lots of essays. But not this much.”

“In the major’s defense, that’s kind of a dumb move on your part, Y/n.”

“Yes, I know. Please don’t remind me of my idiocy.” You finally sit up, before sadly chewing on your noodles. “At least I have ramen and chocolate milk to keep me going.”

And as the night went on, both of you continued the conversation back and forth, you learning more about him and him about you. You talk about your assignments, how annoying some of your professors were, and how living with Changbin was. All the times you had to chase him to clean up after himself, or all the times he stayed up with you until ungodly hours just because you had procrastinated too much and was rushing an assignment in the last hour. You also learnt more about Chan; how he was studying music production because that was his dream since he was young, and how he actually roomed with Jisung, who was equally as messy as Changbin. The only difference was that Chan couldn’t be bothered about the mess.

“Changbin, Jisung, and I actually used to make tracks and post them on Soundcloud,” Chan says, smiling as he recalls the three high schoolers cooped up in his room with the bare minimum equipment that wiped out half their savings. “We even had rapper names.”

“Ooooo~” you tease, nudging his shoulder as his ears start to turn a bright red. “What was yours?”

“What’s in the past should stay in the past, Y/n. Let bygones be bygones. No point talking about it now.”

“Awww, c’mon!” You plead, fidgeting in your seat. “Was it something embarrassing like Cheminem, or something?”

“I can’t help but feel more relaxed when your standards are that low,” Chan says, with some form of relief in his voice. “Uh, mine was CB97.”

“Don’t tell me…” you mutter, eyes wide as the laughter threatens to escape your lips. “Did you really just use your initials and your birth year? Talk about bare minimum!”

“Hey! It’s better than Meminen, or Cheminem, or whatever you said earlier.”

Sticking your tongue out at him, you decide to probe further. “What were Jisung’s and Changbin’s?”

Chan stares at you with wide eyes, your mischievous eyes giving away your evil plans. “No. Changbin will kill me.”

“Don’t be a party pooper! I’ll treat you to ramen next time if you tell me.” You try tempting Chan with food, with no hopes that it would work. But somehow, you see his resolve crumbling, and realise that you just needed one final push.

“I’ll get you chocolate milk and two packets of ramen.”

At that point, Chan regrets telling you his habit of eating two packets of ramen with chocolate milk almost every night when he stays up. “You shouldn’t have given me the milk then!” is what you said while chiding him, and he just claimed that “you looked like you needed it more than me” while saying that he really wasn’t picky about the flavour of milk.

So when you tempt him with his cravings, he has no choice but to give in.

Twenty minutes later, you walk into your shared apartment, a mysterious smile playing on your lips as you drop the keys into the little holder by the door. It was made by yours truly during a random pottery workshop you signed up for. The shape was slightly off, and the colour wasn’t bright or vibrant—but it worked and that’s what mattered.

At the sound of the keys clinking in the holder, Changbin’s head shoots up to gauge your mood from your expression. Surely you would be at least a little less angry after your little run to the convenience store, he thought.

But instead of seeing a blank expression, or even an angry one, he sees the smile on your face and his heart drops. Why were you smiling? The fact that you were smiling made him feel a hundred times worse, and he had already started saying his prayers.

“So, Changbin…” you start, leaning against one of the chairs at the dining table. You weren’t even angry about the empty shelves anymore, but you just could not pass on the opportunity of teasing your best friend. “Or should I say, SpearB?”

And you’re more than content with the way his face morphs into that of horror, as he grips the edges of the table. “How did you know?” he asks, his voice strained and barely above a whisper; one would think that the whole world had found out about his darkest secret from the way he was reacting.

Shrugging playfully, you go back to your seat and sort out the papers scattered around the table, grabbing your laptop to start working on your assignment again with a full and happy stomach. “Who knows~”

“Y/n, tell me,” he starts to whine, making his way to you on his roller chair. “No one knows other than the boys-”

And the realisation of who the culprit was hits him.

“It was Chan, right?” he asks, already reaching for his phone to scold the older boy. “You must have met him when you went to the store—he’s always getting ramen there.” Typing furiously on his phone, he pauses to look up and whine again. “I can’t believe you two gossiped about me! And it was me who made you both become friends. The disrespect!”

Finally the laughter you had been holding in breaks out and floods the living room, the sound bouncing off the walls. “I can’t believe,” you start, trying to catch your breath as you continue laughing. “SpearB! What do you do? Impale people with your sharp flow and rhyme?”

“Just shut up, please,” Changbin pleads, plugging his ears with his fingers. “La la la, I can’t hear anything you’re saying.” He rolls back to his side of the table and grabs the headphones, shoving it over his head to drown out your laughter.

Your laugh fest is cut off by your phone vibrating, signalling that you had a new text message. Grabbing it, you tap your phone a few times to open up the messages page.

chan: can’t believe you outed me to changbin chan: traitor y/n: drama queen y/n: i said nth, he figured it out on his own chan: ఠ_ಠ

Giggling at the emoticon Chan used, you unconsciously lean back in your seat as you search your gallery for an emoticon to reply with, assignments forgotten.

“Who’re you texting?” Changbin asks, having heard you giggle at your phone. He’s eyeing you suspiciously, and you knew it was better to answer him, because a curious Changbin is a dangerous Changbin, and he’ll probably stomp over and snatch your phone to see who you were texting anyway. “It’s Chan.”

“When did you two exchange numbers?!”

“Earlier, when we met at the convenience store.”

It was right before the both of you parted ways; when Chan had proposed something that was pretty much impossible to turn down.

“I had fun today,” he said, one hand stuffed in his pocket while the other swung the plastic bag containing some chocolates to add to his secret sweet stash. “You said you’re having hell month, right? Hit me up whenever you need an emergency ramen run.” And with that, he pushed his phone into your hands, signalling for you to do the same.

Smiling to yourself, you keyed in your number into the phone clutched in your hand, saving yourself as “Y/n”, and before you could regret your decision, you quickly added a smiley after your name and tossed the phone back to Chan. “Here you go.”

The cool metal is being pressed into your hands, and before you know it, you’ve said your farewell to Chan and were on your way back home.

“Look at you socialising out of your own will,” Changbin states proudly, wiping an imaginary tear as he gives you a fatherly (or what he thinks is fatherly) smile. “Albeit, at the expense of my shame, but if it means my little Y/n making more friends then why not!”

“Please stop, you’re an embarrassment to me, yourself, and literally everyone around us,” you deadpan, clearing your side of the table up. It was time to call it a night, because God knows you’re not going to be able to do anymore work. “Besides, it’s really not that big of a deal. I doubt we’ll continue talking after tonight. It’s probably a one-off thing.”

“Hmmm I wouldn’t be too sure,” Changbin muses. “I feel like there’s something that’ll come out of this.”

vii.

Seo Changbin isn’t a lot of things.

He isn’t tidy, opting to throw his clothes all around his room instead of folding it; he isn’t patient, always screaming at you to “Hurry your ass!” when he had been waiting barely three minutes; and last but not least, he definitely isn’t punctual. “Changbin is my name, and being late is my game” is something you’ve heard way too often from him that it was a wonder you hadn’t murdered him yet.

Changbin isn’t a lot of things—but what he somehow is, is intuitive when it comes to you.

So when you find yourself back at the convenience store at 12:30 a.m., ramen and chocolate milk in front of you as you laugh over some stupid story Chan was saying, you can’t help but curse at how right your best friend was.

You were reaching the end of your hell month, which also indicated it being four weeks since you and Chan had developed the routine of pigging out at the convenience store at terrible hours.

“... and he just fell off the tree!” Chan concludes his story of how Hyunjin fell off a tree in high school, words coming out breathless due to how much the both of you were laughing. “Ah, that brings back memories.”

“I can’t believe I never talked to you guys more then,” you say, shaking your head slightly. “It would’ve been hilarious.”

“Someone was too busy with Voldemort,” Chan teases, pushing his nose down flat in what you could only describe as a Voldemort impression. Laughing, you swat his hand away while rolling your eyes at the boy you’ve grown so fond of in a span of four weeks. “Why’d you never talk to us?”

Thinking back to high school, you ask yourself. Why didn’t you ever bother talking to them?

“I guess it’s just cause I already had Changbin,” you start, pausing to think back to the past few years. “As much as I complain about him, he’s really one of the greatest best friends anyone could ask for.”

It was true; Changbin was there for you during high school like no one else had been, and for that you were eternally grateful for him.

“So you were scared to take any other chances since you already got the best?”

People always asked you why you didn’t make more friends in high school. Hell, even your mother kept asking, when other parents struggled to keep their children at home just because they were spending too much time out with friends. But the answer to that question was something you never thought about, and you can’t stop the feeling of shock spreading through your body at what the boy in front of you had just so casually uttered.

You were scared.

“I-I…” you stutter, eyes wide as you stare at the boy in front of you. Chan can’t help the worry that seeps into his face at his words, and he’s starting to wonder if he said anything wrong. “I’ve never ever thought about it. But, oh my God, that makes so much sense.”

After years of waving everyone who asked you why you never made any other friends away just because you yourself didn’t have the answer to the question, you’re hit with a huge realisation of just why you didn’t want to find more friends. And it wasn’t even you who figured it out.

This boy sitting leisurely in front of you, skin pale and soft, with messy black hair framing his face that he never bothered brushing away. This boy, who was as kind as he was hardworking, always willing to help out anyone, even with his own responsibilities. This boy who had been readily there for you at the devil hours for almost every day in the past four weeks, always checking up on you to make sure that you were surviving.

Never in a million years would you have expected someone to figure out something that was locked away so deep inside of your heart, and for it to be Chan, out of everyone. The thought makes your heart race a little, but you decide to blame it on the conversation the both of you were having. It was definitely not because of the boy seated beside you.

“Shocking, huh,” Chan starts, laughing slightly as the worry he had felt earlier replaced with something he could only describe as fondness. “It’s a pity though.”

You look at him questioningly, and what he says next makes you realise a few things that maybe you were better off not realising.

“We would’ve been much happier in high school with you there. I would’ve been much happier.”

As much as you regretted not befriending the other seven boys in high school, you were starting to regret bumping into Chan that very first night even more. If you hadn’t bumped into him, you would’ve never spent so much time with him, never realised how great of a person he was, and lastly, you would’ve never started falling for Bang Chan.

viii.

It’s like déjà vu.

With your exams and assignments completed, you find yourself watching the latest season of Haikyuu when Changbin enters the room, waltzing towards your reclined figure.

“Y/n~” Changbin starts, poking your shoulder to get your attention. “Whatever your annoying ass needs now, it’s a no,” you say without even turning to look at the boy beside you.

“Oh? Even if it was an invitation to dinner with the boys later tonight?”

And when your head whips to the side to look at your best friend, you’re so tempted to just wipe that smirk clean off his face, because the bitch knew you would have said yes.

“I fucking hate you,” is what you can mutter, before switching the television and throwing the remote to the side, choosing to ignore Changbin as you walk towards your room to pick an outfit. But you’re forced to stop in your tracks when Changbin casually utters the next few words.

“Chan’s especially excited to see you.”

You’re not sure what Changbin means by that, but there’s no denying the increase in your heart rate at the mention of the dimpled boy.

“What?” You try your best to sound as nonchalant as you could, hoping that your best friend wouldn’t pick up the slight quiver in your voice. But, of course, he wasn’t your best friend for nothing.

“I said, your little boyfriend’s excited to see you.” Changbin smirks at your expression, stretching his legs out to rest it on the coffee table in front of your sofa. “And it looks like you’re just as excited.”

Red travels up your neck and spreads across your face, as you sputter at your best friend’s preposterous words. “W-what are you- I- Huh-”

Realising that your little breakdown wasn’t helping your case at all, you take a deep breath to calm yourself, before speaking to the insolent brat in front of you. “He’s not my boyfriend.”

“But you like him, don’t you?”

You freeze like a deer caught in headlights, and the first instinct you have is to play dumb. “O-of course I like him. He’s my friend.”

“I will pretend like I did not hear that pathetic attempt of you trying to act dumb,” Changbin states robotically, rolling his eyes. “C’mon, Y/n. It’s obvious. So stop pretending and just fess up. It’ll be easier for the both of us.”

You had two choices now: Either fess up and prepare yourself for at least a thousand years of teasing, or just completely deny it till your deathbed.

Clearly, the second option was much more appealing.

“No, Changbin,” you snap with as much conviction as you could. “I do not have a crush on Chan. He’s just a really good friend.”

The knowing look on his face wavers, and you know that you’re seconds away from success. It’s not that you did not trust your best friend with the information of you having a crush on one of his friends. You just did not want to say it out loud—saying it out loud would mean that you were confirming it, and there will be no going back. And that scared you.

You were scared of liking someone who was way too perfect, and who probably would never like you back.

So the best solution was to keep your little crush hidden away in the depths of your heart, and slowly get over it as soon as you could. It was as easy as it could get.

ix.

Apparently, you realise, it wasn’t at all easy to get over a simple crush.

The smell of meat fills your nostrils as the eight boys chatter loudly over the sound of the sizzling of the food. You’re back at the same restaurant, with the same boys, except it wasn’t exactly the same as the last time.

This time, you had a raging crush on the boy who insisted on sitting beside you, leg brushing against yours every few seconds as he piles the food on your plate instead of his.

It definitely didn’t help that every time your hands brushed while reaching out for the side dishes around the table, you pulled your hand back as if you had just been burned, ears immediately heating up.

“Did you know Chan told Y/n about 3RACHA?” Changbin whines to Jisung, making him stop his actions mid-way, meat hanging from the chopsticks just a few inches away from his mouth. “All I heard the past few weeks was ‘SpearB, help me’, ‘SpearB, go there’. It was torture.”

The table goes silent at the new information Changbin had revealed, and all you can do is smile sheepishly as your friends stare at the both of you.

“These two have been meeting almost everyday the past few weeks to get ramen at weird timings, and I’m pretty sure Y/n has lots of quality dirt on us now,” Changbin says pointedly, completely ignoring the way your eyes widened because why would he just say that?

It already wasn’t easy keeping Changbin in check with his little fantasies every time you went out to meet Chan, and now it was going to be worse because you just knew that the six other boys were going to question you from their expressions.

You turn to look at Chan, expecting to see the same ‘busted’ expression on his face, but all you see is a guilty smile, before he opens his mouth to speak. “In my defense, I was bribed.”

“Yes but, you never told us your 3RACHA names even after we kept begging you for weeks,” Hyunjin speaks up, eyes wide in disbelief. “We had to bribe you with a new game for your console, but you just told Y/n after two packets of ramen and chocolate milk?”

Your heart rate picks up speed just a fraction after hearing Hyunjin’s words, and you can’t help but feel a little special that Chan was comfortable enough to tell you things he refused to tell others. There’s a small smile playing at your lips as you look at the boy beside you, who was now rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly as he tried his best to defend himself from the accusations that were now pouring out from all his friends.

Unbeknownst to you, your own best friend was watching the both of you since the night started, a glint in his eye as he catches the way you threw small glances at his friend, blushing every time your hands brushed or when Chan purposely picked out the meat that was grilled best to put on your plate.

He also didn’t miss the soft smile playing at Chan’s lips every time you laughed at another stupid joke Jisung cracked, head thrown back slightly as you clutched your stomach, or the way his eyes widened every time you leaned a little too close to him to reach for a side dish.

Fools, is what he thinks when he eyes his two best friends. Fools in love.

The night goes on, and it’s Changbin who proposes a game of who can finish a bottle of soju the fastest to make things more exciting. You already know how it was going to end when you see the soju bottles crowding the table, all screaming the obvious outcome of the night.

“Rule’s simple. We’ll have two people against each other, and the one that loses has to pay their opponent’s share for tonight’s dinner.”

You notice Changbin avoiding your eyes as he speaks and distributes the bottle, which could be attributed to the very scary death glare you were throwing right at him.

Here’s the thing—your alcohol tolerance was shit. And Changbin knew that, making you wonder what he had planned up his sleeve.

“Right, here’s the lineup,” he announces, making it seem as if the lot of you were in some world championship of sorts. “Hyunjin and Jisung”—there’s a loud ‘Die, bitch!’ that resounds from Jisung as they both get ready to win against each other—“Seungmin and Felix, Minho and Jeongin, and Chan and Y/n!”

You were going to kill that idiot.

Changbin starts off the game with a recap of the rules, and makes sure that everyone has their own bottle of alcohol. Disaster is the only word flashing in your mind, and you’re on the verge of ditching your friends to return to the comfort of your room.

“Jisung and Hyunjin first!” Changbin instructs, to which the two boys grab their bottles and have a stare-down with each other.

“I’m gonna win so hard, your ancestors are gonna feel it.”

“Let’s see you try, pretty boy.”

On Changbin’s cue, the two boys start gulping down the alcohol, and you visibly cringe at the ghost feeling of the taste on your tongue.

“Are you okay?” Chan whispers from beside you, eyebrows furrowed. “It’s a stupid game. You don’t have to do it if you don’t want to.”

There’s a grateful smile on your face as you shake your head, letting the boy know you were okay. “I’m fine. Just worried because my alcohol tolerance isn’t that good, and I don’t want to inconvenience all of you.”

“I promise I’ll take care of you,” Chan mutters softly, staring right into your eyes. The smile slowly drops from your face as your heartbeat echoes in your ears at his words and the way he was looking at you. You so badly wanted to look away, not being used to such eye contact, but there’s something about the way he’s looking at you that makes it almost impossible for you to tear your gaze away from his twinkling eyes.

The sound of a bottle being slammed onto the table snaps you out of your little moment with Chan, and you immediately turn away to look at what was happening at the table, taking deep, cleansing breaths to calm yourself.

On the other side of the table, you realise that Hyunjin was the one who finished his bottle first, now having the time of his life teasing Jisung, who had about one quarter of the bottle left.

All the boys, except Chan and Felix, were laughing their asses off—Felix was the only one comforting Jisung, while Chan was staring at the table, an unreadable expression on his face.

“There, there. It’s okay, Sung,” Felix coos, patting Jisung’s hair, as the latter sulks at his loss.

The next two rounds proceed quickly, with Seungmin and Jeongin emerging as the winners. Everyone stares shell shocked, as Jeongin gulps down the liquid with vigour and speed, and slams his bottle down onto the table with a grin.

“There’s no way! I can’t believe Minho lost to a baby!”

“Just because he’s the youngest doesn’t mean he’s a baby, Changbin.” Seungmin deadpans, swiftly moving the empty bottles to the side of the table. “And how come you’re not participating?”

“Someone needs to bring Y/n back,” Changbin shrugs, passing the bottles to Chan and you with a guilty smile in return to your scowl. “And I’d rather stay sober when taking care of drunk children.”

You turn to pass the bottle to Chan, quickly avoiding his gaze when he looks at you. You’re not confident in your abilities to keep the blush down if he was going to look at you the way he did before.

“Okay,” Changbin cues, making sure both of you were ready with the bottle caps off. “Ready, set… Go!”

You didn’t mind paying for Chan’s share for dinner, you really didn’t. But if there was something about you that was both your downfall and pride, it was your competitiveness. You were competitive to the point where you tended to disregard the consequences of your actions.

So, your brain doesn’t register the painful consequences of your actions as you gulp down the bottle of alcohol like your life depended on it. You weren’t the best drinker out there, but you were going to try your very damn best because it was a competition.

With no expectation of winning, you swallow the last drop of soju and slam the bottle back onto the table, when you realise that everyone was staring at the two of you with their mouths open—specifically at Chan.

Following their gaze, your eyes widen in surprise as you see the boy holding an almost half-full bottle of soju, clearly indicating that you were the winner of your little game.

It’s like a dam breaks, and suddenly everyone’s shouting at the unexpected outcome. Hyunjin and Jisung scream while looking back and forth the bottle and Chan, while Felix, Seungmin, and Jeongin sit with wide eyes and open mouths, unable to process that Chan just lost to you.

On the other hand, Changbin watches Chan with a smirk, which slowly drops when he realises that Minho, who was sitting beside him, was staring at him with raised eyebrows, clearly asking the question ‘What the fuck just happened?’.

Just as he’s about to pull Changbin to the side to question him, you shoot up from your seat, stumbling around almost immediately because of the sudden bout of dizziness that hit you. You fall back onto your seat as fast you had gotten up, and Chan wraps an arm around you almost instinctively, making sure you didn’t fall off your seat.

The table is back to having their own conversations a few minutes later, as if they weren't just screaming over your victory, with Hyunjin and Jisung having a rock-paper-scissors tournament between themselves, proposed by Jisung who was still sore about losing to Hyunjin.

Alcohol clouds your mind as your head lols back and forth, with soft giggles spilling from your lips. In your drunken state, you register the arm wrapped around you, and you turn your head to look for the owner of said arm.

Chan looks at you with the fondest smile as he tries to hold back his own chuckles at how cute your giggles were, at the same time being extremely conscious of the way you fit perfectly around his arms. He thanks his lucky stars that you were drunk as he held you, assuring him that there was no way you were going to hear how fast his heart was beating.

“Oh?” you drawl, squinting at the boy beside you. “Who might you be?”

And at that very moment, Chan hopes with all his heart that there is no one else who will get to witness what he was seeing right in front of him.

There are strands of hair covering your face, cheeks red from the alcohol (and from the close proximity to him, but he doesn’t need to know that) and eyes drooping from the oncoming sleepiness. Yet, to him, you were still the most beautiful in that moment.

“I’m Chan,” he replies sweetly, hesitating for a moment before adding more to the sentence. “Your friend.”

An exaggerated gasp escapes you as your eyes widen comically. Words tumble from your mouth, with hiccups disrupting your sentences every now and then. “Chan? Bang Chan? From high school? The really, um-" hiccup "-cute boy who tutored in the library? The super popular dude? You’re my-" hiccup "friend?”

There’s a light pink flush dusting his cheeks at your words, but he laughs nonetheless while nodding, finger reaching out to tap your nose. “Yes, I am.”

Scrunching your nose at the contact, you continue giggling when the sound of someone clearing their throat interrupts the little exchange you and Chan were having. Chan turns to face his friends, and immediately starts coughing when he realises that they had been watching the whole scene with amused expressions. He awkwardly retracts his arm from around your waist, only for you to get up and stumble over to where Changbin was sitting, arms reaching out towards him while making grabby hands. “Changbinnnn~”

You plop yourself onto his lap, arms encircling his neck as you pull his ear closer to your mouth. Used to your drunk antics, he concedes, knowing that he’ll end up with more damage if he didn’t listen to you when you were drunk.

When he is close enough, you cup your hands around your mouth and whisper into his ears. At least, you thought you were whispering.

“You have really cute friends, Changbin.”

The whole table erupts into cheers at your words, and you immediately cover your mouth with a horrified expression. “Did everyone hear that?”

“You weren’t very quiet, darling,” Changbin snorts, pulling you up with him as he stands. “How are all of you getting back?”

“We’re all crashing at Felix’s place,” Seungmin speaks up, tapping away on his phone. “The uber’s about to arrive… right now.”

Grabbing their things, everyone except Minho, Chan, Changbin, and you, make their way out of the restaurant, shouting out hurried farewells and promises of ‘I’ll wire the money to you when I get back!’ to Changbin.

“Okay, Minho and I will go settle the bill,” Changbin says, readjusting his grip on you. “Chan, can you look after Y/n for a bit?”

“Sure,” Chan replies, looping your arm around his neck as his snakes around your waist. “We’ll be out at the front.”

The moment Chan leaves their sight with you by his side, Minho turns to bombard Changbin with all the questions that had been bothering him the whole night.

“What was that?” Minho asks in bewilderment, pointing to the door that Chan and you had exited from. “How on earth did Chan lose that game when he’s the best drinker amongst all of us?!”

“It’s called being in love,” Changbin scoffs, shaking his head at his two friends. “Disgusting.”

The distressed look on Minho’s face dissolves, and is replaced by what one could describe as enlightenment. “No fucking way. I was wondering why he kept smiling at them like an idiot. That explains so much! Have they confessed?”

“You think?” Changbin rolls his eyes, knowing that there was no way either of you had the courage to confess first. “The only way either of them will confess is if they are drunk.”

“But Y/n is dru-” Minho starts in confusion, when he stops mid-sentence, realising what Changbin had just done. “You evil genius.”

“What can I say,” Changbin states proudly, brushing imaginary dirt off his shoulder. “I wonder what’s going on outside,” he mutters under his breath, staring at the door.

On the other side of the door, Chan finally succeeds in getting you to sit down with him on a curb, his jacket folded neatly under your bottom to make sure that you were not sitting on the hard cement. “I’m tired,” you whine, head dropping onto the warm shoulder beside you.

Chan tenses up at the sudden contact, staring at the top of your head, when you nuzzle your cheek against his shoulder. At the feeling of your cheek against his shoulder, he relaxes, and positions himself such that you didn’t have to strain your neck.

There’s a comfortable silence between the both of you, until you decide to break it by asking Chan a very obvious question.

“We’re close friends right?”

You lift your head from Chan’s shoulder, almost whining out loud at the loss of comfort, but you decide that asking him that question was more important. Clearly, drunk you had very different priorities.

Chan just nods and replies with a soft “Of course”, wondering why you were suddenly asking that question. “Why?”

“Since we’re close friends, can I tell you a secret?” The last few words are spoken in a hushed whisper, as you reach out and grasp Chan’s soft and warm hands. His larger hands clasps yours, as he chuckles at your question. “I don’t think that’s a good idea, Y/n. You’re drunk, and you might regret telling me when you sober up.”

“No!” You almost shout, alarming Chan who looks around to make sure no one heard your exclamation. You continue in a softer tone, to Chan’s relief. “You’re my close friend! So I won’t regret it.”

And the wide smile you show Chan almost makes him want to kiss you right there and then. Almost.

“Alright then,” Chan agrees, rubbing circles into the skin on your hand. “Go ahead, tell me your secret.”

Giggling, you use your free hand to beckon him closer, your face moving closer to his at the same time. Just as his ear is close enough to you, you whisper out the words that make his heart stop.

“I think I like you.”

He freezes in place, eyes staring at the black tar road ahead of him as his heart hammers against his ribcage because of your nonchalant words. He gulps before slowly turning to face you, the person he had grown to like more than he could ever imagine coming into his view. He takes quick, shallow breaths as he continues to stare at you, unsure of what to say.

Luckily (or unluckily, for Chan), you decide to continue talking, baring your heart and soul to him.

“It’s like...” you start, trailing off after your first two words, before finding the right words to continue. “It’s like I was always happy in life, but you made me realise that it was possible for me to be happier when you are there with me.”

And the smile you give Chan, accompanied with the words you had just uttered, makes him want to protect you from the rest of the world. He’s not sure if he loves you, but what he’s sure about is that all he wants to do is hug you and never let go, to be there for you every minute, every second. And he thinks that’s enough.

That’s enough reason to hold onto you and never let go.

Opening his mouth, Chan is about to reply to your drunk confession, when the sound of soft snores fill his ears.

Leaning against the light pole that was situated very conveniently behind you, you had fallen asleep in the split second Chan had taken to make his move. Your chest rises and falls with every breath you take, and Chan can’t help but breath out a laugh at your timing.

There’s always tomorrow, he thinks.

There’s white noise playing in your ear as you stare up at your ceiling.

Changbin is seated at the edge of your bed saying something important, you assume. You aren’t listening; your brain cells have decided to go on a strike and replay the scene from yesterday on loop.

I think I like you.

You want to scream. You want to scream and murder the boy sitting beside you so bad. After all, it was his fault that you ingested that goddamn devil liquid that made you spill more than your guts.

It was a wonder that you were able to find a friend as precious as Chan, and there you lay in despair, all thoughts of facing Chan again slowly slipping away from your fingertips. There was absolutely no way you were going to be able to see him after the stunt you pulled yesterday.

“Y/n, are you listening?!”

“No.”

A hand wraps around your arm and you feel yourself being pulled up, coming face-to-face with your distressed best friend. “Stop being stubborn. Calm down and listen to what I have to say.”

And that’s when you snap.

“Stubborn!?” you shriek, clutching the ends of your hair. “I just confessed to your friend, Seo Changbin. I was drunk, and I confessed my very large and real crush to the person I am crushing on. I have ruined any chance at friendship with him, so don’t tell me to stop being stubborn and to calm down!”

Taking a deep breath, Changbin pulls you towards him, both his hands resting against your cheeks. “Listen here. Stop being a wuss. Yes, you confessed when you were drunk. Yes, it’s embarrassing as fuck. But get over it. You know Chan. Is he the kind of asshole who drops friendship over small things like rejection?”

There’s a pout playing at your lips as you shake your head, partly due to the way Changbin was squishing your cheeks, and the other half because you knew he was right.

“But I still don’t want to face him yet,” you whine, pushing his hands away from your face and diving back into your covers. “I just want to wallow in self pity, and hopefully waste away on this bed so that I’ll never have to face anyone ever again.”

Changbin knows that there was no convincing you otherwise, so he settles for sighing and getting up from your bed.

“Don’t stay in bed for too long. I’ll order us food for later.”

Muttering something under your breath, you roll over and bury your face into your pillow, sighing as you think about the boy whose smile gave you more warmth than the sun could ever provide.

You’re in the midst of imagining how different today would’ve been if you hadn’t opened your dumb mouth when your phone rings and cuts off your thoughts. Reaching out for it, your mouth runs dry when you see the name displayed on your screen.

“Chan :)”

Your finger presses the decline button and your phone clatters against your bedside table as you decide that you are not ready to talk to Chan yet. And you’re not sure if you’ll ever be ready to talk to him, let alone face him.

A minute after declining the call, there’s a series of knocks on your door, and you shout out a “Go away!”, not wanting to hear anything related to Chan and how you need to stop being a coward. But as the knocking continues, getting louder as time passes, you start getting annoying and realise you have no choice but to open the door.

“What the fuck do you want, Chang-”

You cut yourself off as you take in the person standing in front of you with wide eyes, looking as handsome as ever even with the furious look painted on his face.

The silence is thick with tension, and you can’t help but avert your eyes, choosing to look at anything but the boy in front of you.

“Why are you ignoring me?” Chan asks, voice quiet and flat. “I’ve been calling and texting you all morning.”

“Um, I-” you start, not knowing how to answer his question. You imagined your day going various ways, but this definitely wasn’t in your plans. “Did Changbin call you?”

“I asked,” he starts, walking towards you. You take a few steps a back, and continue walking backwards until your hands come into contact with your dresser. You were trapped. “Why are you ignoring me, Y/n?”

You blink rapidly, not used to this closed-off version of Chan. The usual warmth and softness in his eyes were missing, and instead all you saw was disappointment and anger. You open your mouth to speak, but it wasn’t easy to get the words out.

“Was it funny messing with me?” Chan continues, not breaking eye contact with you once. “To just get my hopes up and disappear like it all meant nothing?”

“W-what?”

“How was it so easy for you to just start ignoring me?”

“No I-”

“Is that all I mean to you?” And instead of the disappointment and anger, you see pure, unfiltered hurt, and that was enough for your walls to come crashing down. Tears well up in your eyes as you look at the boy in front of you, and it’s like a dam breaks.

“I’m sorry.” Sobs wreck your body as you wipe the tears that don’t seem to stop. “I-I’m so fucking sorry, Chan. I was scared.”

“Scared because you just said that in the spur of moment and you don’t actually mean it?”

“No, I was scared because I like you too fucking much!”

There’s a pregnant silence between the two of you, and you continue staring at the floor, vision blur with stubborn tears that refuse to fall. And that’s when you hear it.

A chuckle.

It’s soft, and you would’ve missed it if not for the pin drop silence in the room.

You slowly lift your head up to confirm if you actually heard what you heard, or if you were hallucinating, when you see it.

Chan was smiling.

“Can’t believe it worked.”

What on earth did that mean?

“W-what do you mean?” you ask, sniffing softly.

“This was Changbin’s idea. For the record, I was against it.” Chan’s hands come up to rest on your cheeks, his thumb wiping away the tears on your cheeks as he smiles softly at you. “I mean, of course I was hurt and worried. But I just wanted to come over and talk it over like a normal person.”

His smile widens as one hand continues cupping your face, while the other reaches to tuck the one stray strand of hair behind your ear. “He said you’ll never admit things unless I, uh, scared you a little.

You stare at Chan as the gears work in your head, putting the pieces of information. The moment the last piece clicks in place, you stare in shock at the boy standing in front of you with a sheepish smile.

“What the fuck?!” you yell, equal parts of relief and anger taking over your mind. “I fucking hate you!”

And with that you storm off towards your door, Chan chasing after you with apologies spilling from his mouth. But the both of you knew that you weren’t actually upset, which can be seen by the giggles accompanying every apology.

Just as you’re about to leave your room, you’re pulled back into warm arms, and you fight every urge to melt right into his embrace. His arms wrap around your frame tightly, but gently. You feel his strong heartbeat against your back, and it’s enough to make you shiver, goosebumps erupting all over your skin.

“Do you hate me?” Chan asks, chin resting on your shoulder as you feel his breath tickle your neck.

“Yes.”

“Really?” Chan asks in amusement, lips against your ears and voice just above a whisper. “That’s a pity then. Because I like you too fucking much too.”

He whispers the last part of the sentence, making your knees go weak and your heartbeat pick up its pace as it usually does whenever the boy who stole your heart was involved.

You turn around in his arms to face him, sighing contentedly at how things ended up turning out. “I’m really sorry about the ghosting.”

“It’s okay, love,” Chan assures you, the pet name inducing butterflies in your stomach. “I would’ve been embarrassed too, if I had confessed to you when I was drunk.”

“I would’ve loved to see that.” You whine at the unfortunate circumstance of you confessing instead of Chan. “I probably looked like an idiot while confessing.”

“Since I’m your boyfriend, can I tell you a secret?” Chan teases, repeating what you said the night before with a little twist. Smacking his arm lightly for the jab, you nod with a laugh, ignoring the way your face heats up when he refers to himself as your boyfriend.

“I really wanted to kiss you when you were confessing.” There’s mirth in Chan’s eyes as he gazes at you the same way he did back at the restaurant. The only difference was that you knew he liked you back. And you had never been happier.

“Go for it.”

And that’s all the confirmation that Chan needs to lean down and press his lips against yours in a feather-light kiss, as your hands rest on his chest, appreciating the strong beat his heart was playing.

You part a few seconds later, eyes still closed as a smile plays on both your lips, before you’re pulled for another kiss, this one more forceful than the one before. His lips press against yours harder, and his arms pull you closer—as close as you could be. You respond with equal fervor, pouring every emotion you have into the kiss, when you’re interrupted by a loud cough.

“I would appreciate it if I didn’t have to bleach my eyes every time I see the two of you.”

Oh.

It completely slipped your mind that Changbin was just a few steps away from your room, and you want to crawl under your bed and befriend the monster there when you see the haughty smile on your best friend’s face.

“I think a thanks is in order.”

Removing yourself from Chan’s arms, you walk over to Changbin, who smiles wider when he realises you are walking towards him. Opening his arms to welcome you in for a hug, he can’t help but shriek when you start punching him everywhere possible.

“Dude, what is wrong with you?!”

“That’s what you get for coming up with stupid ideas to get me to talk!” you snap at your best friend with words that carry no real bite. “Were you that desperate?”

“Clearly!” Changbin replies, exasperated. “It was getting depressing. He wouldn’t stop calling me because he was worried, and you were being a stubborn bitch!”

At his words, there’s a tinge of guilt that pinches at you when you realise the trouble you had put your best friend through.

“Okay, I’m sorry,” you say with a pout, burying your face into Changbin’s shoulder. “And thank you.”

“Yes yes, you’re welcome,” Changbin says with a soft smile. He wouldn’t admit it just yet, but seeing his best friend who meant the world to him end up with someone who just as much deserved nothing but the best made him eternally grateful. “Now go smooch your boyfriend. We don’t want him becoming too jealous of the attention you’re giving me.”

“Oh, shut up,” is what Changbin gets in return, as Chan intertwines his hand with yours. Just as Changbin walks out of sight back to his room, Chan turns to you with the biggest smile.

“Now then, shall we go on a date to celebrate our first day?”

“Absolutely.”

And as you and Chan sit on the beach that evening, surrounded by sand and accompanied by the sound of the waves and the soft breeze with a orange hue enveloping you, you think:

Life had never been sweeter.

#stray kids imagines #stray kids x reader #bang chan x reader #stray kids #bang chan #stray kids fluff #stray kids oneshot #stray kids scenarios #skz imagines #skz scenarios #skz oneshot #skz x reader #skz fluff #chan x reader #bang chan imagines #bang chan scenarios #bang chan oneshot #dee scribbles

722 notes · View notes

fairyoftbz · 3 years

Text

lavande | l. hyunjae

🥡 pairing: crush!hyunjae x fem!reader 🥡 wc: 3.2k 🥡 genre: fluff, university au, slice of life 🥡 tw: none? i think? 🥡 synopsis: as you are talking to Chanhee, your crush appears in the lecture room, leaving you with a hammering heart. 🥡 a/n: it's already Monday again, so posting time!! i wrote this because i kinda miss uni without covid, I had such a good time back in 2019 😩 feedback is always appreciated!! <33 🥡 requested: yes, thank you! i hope it's good enough!!

╰☆☆☆☆╮

“Have you done the readings we were supposed to?” Chanhee whispered in your ear as you turned on your computer, the screen remaining black made you frown as you quickly glanced at your friend, hand deep in your backpack to find your charger.

“Wait, let me guess. With the abandoned puppy eyes you're giving me, you want me to summarise what this was about, am I right?"

“Please Y/N, I didn't have time this week, it has been so hectic! I promise I'll buy you a coffee," you waved your hand in front of your face to let him know that he didn't need to, and you leaned your arm under the table to look for a plug while summarising what you had understood to your friend.

He listened intently until his eyes looked over your head, a smirk forming on his mouth. You frowned for a split second but continued your explanation, noticing that the smile didn't want to leave Chanhee's face. You deeply sighed, trying to make your friend pay attention, but it was to no avail. He was busy looking at something else.

“Are you listening to me, or am I talking to my computer?” you asked, and your friend returned your attention to you, his puppy look made you shake your head and roll your eyes. He looked behind you one last time, and you turned around in frustration, your breath getting stuck in your throat as you discovered what was amusing Chanhee so much.

You did a double-take when you noticed the man standing at the entrance, your pulse quickening as your hands became sweaty and hot. Every student around you, including Chanhee holding your arm to hear the rest of your explanation, disappeared from your field of view. You only had eyes for the one who stole your heart without realising it.

Hyunjae pushed the lecture door open and held it out for the group following him, politely nodding at the blushing girl that thanked him. He pursed his lips and scanned the auditorium, trying to find a familiar face to sit next to. The air was stuffy and odorous, the young man cursing the caretakers for not ventilate it more often as he was almost sweating because of his outfit. His white turtleneck and pants, as well as the lavender sweater, were thick enough for him to be warm to walk from his apartment since it was still quite chilly in the morning, but he felt like he was wearing winter clothes in the middle of a heatwave when he entered this room.

“Wow,” you murmured under your breath and looked down on your phone, trying to hide your attraction for him from your friends around you, your right hand holding your head up, hiding your eyes at the same time. You heard Chanhee mockingly exhale through his nose as he noticed you munching on your bottom lip, a habit of yours he had caught a glimpse of you doing when you were stressed or embarrassed. In this current case, you were both.

Tugging on the collar of his white turtleneck, Hyunjae sighed in annoyance as he walked down the first few steps. Cursing himself for arriving so late, he sighed as the only remaining seats were in the first few rows, where he had almost 99% of the chance of getting chosen by the professor to answer a question. He dropped his bag from his shoulder onto the table as he looked at the rows again, his eyes immediately discerning the funny stickers at the back of your computer.

“It won’t hurt anyone if I just check where he is,” you thought, but it was probably the worst idea you’ve ever had because your eyes met his dark, chocolate ones, his eyebrows lifting in relief when he recognised other familiar faces in your row.

“Y/N, you’re drooling, be careful,” your friend Chanhee whispered in your ear, teasing as you looked away from Hyunjae and wiped your mouth as quickly as possible, warmth flooding your veins as you keep your finger pressed on the power button of your computer. Your best friend laughed at your antics, but you turned a blind eye to him and mentally cursed yourself for not being as wary as you thought you were.

“Idiot, how could you be discreet if you made direct eye contact with him?” You shook your head at this thought and took a deep breath, inwardly praying that he would sit far from you as you mindlessly scrolled down through your notes.

“Hyunjae, over here!” Sunwoo stood up and raised his deep voice over all the hubbub of the auditorium, pointing at the empty spot between you and Chanhee. It was reserved for Eric who was running late, but you noticed the vacant seat next to Sunwoo and whined. You swore that the rest of the row was packed when you arrived, but it looked like a spot magically freed itself when Hyunjae appeared. It was as if your friends had planned this behind your back.

“Can I sit here?” A gentle, deep voice said, and you looked up. Much to your dismay, it was Hyunjae. “Uh, s-sure,” you stumbled on your sentence as if it were your first time speaking, closing your eyes and inner face palmed yourself at the mess you had just become in a matter of seconds.

You gathered your belongings and held them against your chest as you stood up and sat next to Chanhee, giving your crush your now empty spot. Placing your bag on the floor, you turned your head to the right and stared at your friends, only to find them laughing and bickering together. Changmin was imitating your bashful answer, and Sunwoo’s smug grin painted on his face as he cheekily winked at you, everything confirming your doubts that this situation was one of their playful plans. You sighed in exasperation and typed the title of your notes on a new document as if the entire situation weren’t bothering you.

“Thanks,” Hyunjae said as he sat down, and your heart skipped a beat when you heard his gorgeous voice that caused the hairs on your arms to stand up. His smile made him ten times more attractive, and your heart seemed to struggle to cope with his beauty.

You tried your best to ignore your crush’s presence on your left as you typed down your notes at high speed, but it was harder than you thought. He was close, too close for you to function properly and pay attention to the lecture, his presence and cologne distracting you. There were times where you could feel his gaze on you when you were typing or taking a sip of water, your hands immediately tensing and jolting under the pressure of his aura.

As the lecture finally finished, you quickly packed up your stuff and zipped your backpack before putting it on your shoulders. You didn’t even bother saying goodbye to your friends as you stood in your seat and jumped on the table of the higher row behind you to escape your group. Kevin tried to hail you by calling your name, but you were quick to pace towards the exit and vanish into the mass of the crowd.

You almost reached the library, your safe area where you always sought comfort and peace when a hand gently caught your wrist, your eyes immediately drawn to the familiar lavender knitted sleeve. You breathed heavily at the warmth of the slender hand, and you turned around to face none other than your crush.

“Gosh, you were walking so fast,” he chuckled as he finally got you, his hold still wrapped around your wrist blasting electricity through your veins. The contact felt pleasant, yet it felt so wrong to be this close to him. “I wanted to ask you something before the lecture ended, but you disappeared,” Hyunjae smiled as his cheeks became the prettiest shade of pink you had ever seen. You shyly smiled, muttering a soft apology, and you frowned, not letting him time to say another word.

He opened his mouth to say something when you drew him behind one of the colossal pillars holding up the second floor as you saw Chanhee’s bleached hair peeking out from an opened auditorium door, spying on you two. Hyunjae looked confused but let you drag him anyway.

“Sorry, what were you saying?” You tried to look unbothered, but your fidgeting hands betrayed you, making your crush smile. “Hum yeah, I was wondering if you wanted to have lunch with me today?” he asked, looking straight into your eyes, a big, bashful smile decorating his face. "I know a good café not too far from college, so I was wondering if-” “S-sure, why not?” you blurted out, and you heard muffled laughs coming from behind Hyunjae.

You both peeked out and noticed your friends piled up on top of each other, trying to listen to the conversation you were having with your crush. You sighed and shook your head in annoyance, tired of the lack of privacy your love life was experiencing every day because of them, Eric laughing even louder for getting caught eavesdropping like that.

A hand landed on your shoulder, and you felt a breath near your ear, making your heart skip a few beats in a row.

“Let’s go before they follow us, okay?” you glanced at Hyunjae, and he looked at you with something in his eyes that made your chest tighten, making the process of breathing troublesome. He grinned at your state and innocently grabbed your clammy hand as you two sped off towards the exit and ran past your friends into the mob.

As you slowed down in the streets, trying to look as civil as possible, you readjusted your backpack strap and caught your breath while laughing, Hyunjae smiling as brightly as you did. He found your laugh so pretty and light-hearted, he felt internally lucky to be part of the reason for it. You went down to the end of the street, still walking close to him, and he paused in front of a takeaway place. Holding the door for you, you shyly thanked him and entered the restaurant, the smell of Chinese food making your stomach grumble in hunger.

“Choose whatever you want, it’s on me,” you turned around and immediately backed up a bit, startled by the proximity of you two. Hyunjae only smiled, and you turned your attention back to the food. “Really?” you asked, and he snickered at your shocked state, nodding with a soft smile on his face. "Gosh, I am so hungry,” you muttered under your breath as your eyes roamed on the menu above your heads, heavily breathing as you were still trying to catch your breath back from the sprint you had just run to escape from your foolish friends.

Relief rushed through your veins when he took the reins and ordered for the two of you, your mouth uttering thank-yous like a mantra, only to have your crush waving it off.

“Y/N, it’s okay, don’t worry about it!” he said, and you stopped to look at him, Hyunjae beaming at you while grabbing the paper bag with your steamy food at the bottom. You quickly seized some napkins and disposable utensils and walked back to Hyunjae, who was already outside, waiting for you. “So, where are we going now?” he said, and you shrugged, looking around you, not knowing anything only outside from the library. “I know a good place, it’s not far from here,” you vaguely pointed to your right, and Hyunjae immediately started walking. “Let’s go before the food gets cold!” he exclaimed and let you take the lead.

It was a small park hidden a few streets away from your university, meeting other students since there was another park inside the campus. Bowing down to pat the grass a few meters away from the artificial pond, you sat down as it was dry, but Hyunjae handed you the food and took out his folded waterproof jacket from his bag. Placing it on the ground, he gestured you to come and sit with him.

“Here, come sit with me, you’ll be more comfortable,” he said, and you obeyed, your knees touching as you set the paper bag down next to you and handed him his food and drink. Your proximity didn’t leave you indifferent, but you tried your best to hide it as much as possible.

Hyunjae noticed your little change of behaviour and found you adorable when you looked away at each of his compliments. Your arms were now touching since his jacket underneath you wasn’t a picnic tablecloth, and you were slowly getting used to his body warmth surrounding you.

As the lunch break went by, you talked about your respective majors, and you joked about the shared lecture of this morning, getting closer and closer to each other. He was kind-hearted and became more comfortable when you were alone, gently nudging you in the elbow when you were about to lift your chopsticks to your mouth, the noodles falling back into your bowl. Wiping your mouth with a napkin, you were quick to nudge him back and laugh, still careful not to stain any of his clothes.

“You… look really nice today. I like those colours on you,” you complimented him, and he smiled at your hesitant voice, taking a sip of soda before answering. “Thank you Y/N, I appreciate it,” you nodded and started chewing on your bottom lip, eyes divagating towards the pond surrounded by plants and flowers. “You look really pretty as well,” he whispered in your ear, and you froze at his words, your heart skipping a beat as he had seized the opportunity of you letting your guard down as you were paying attention to the pond. You offered him a soft smile and took a sip of your drink as well to try and calm your racing heart.

He kept playing with it since he was having fun by making you embarrassed and shy with his compliments and proximity. Hyunjae knew that it was working despite your never-ending tries of hiding it, and he felt proud to have this effect on you. Although it was hard for him to see you chew on your lip like that, he had to force himself not to cup your face and tell you to stop, because he was really tempted to do so. However, when you started scratching your lip with your fingers, that’s when he grabbed your pitiless hand and held it in his.

“Hey, don’t do that,” he said and grabbed a napkin to dab the blood coming out of the little cuts on your bottom lip you had caused out of nervosity.

You guiltily avoided his eyes and searched for your lip balm in your bag before quickly applying some. The temptation of starting again was real when your hand was still cradled in his, your crush not giving a single sign of him being ready to let go of it. Alternatively, he rubbed his thumb over your knuckles as you both observed the pond and the people chilling around you.

Much to your dismay, your little romantic moment was interrupted by the church clock striking thirteen times, announcing 1 PM. You both didn’t pay attention at first, but it was when you couldn’t see a single student around you that you realised something.

“Oh god, Statistics! We have statistics in less than fifteen minutes,” you hurriedly said as you jumped on your feet, placing all your trash in the paper bag. “Oh shit!” Hyunjae imitated you and grabbed the bag from you, jogging to the trash can on the other side of the pond while you grabbed your belongings and quickly folded his jacket. He thanked you, and you left in a rush, under the confused eyes of your neighbours.

Even if it wasn’t too far from your college, you still jumped in the bus that was about to drive off from the stop right outside the park, the doors closing right behind Hyunjae. You sighed in relief as you both made it, and you tightly grabbed the metallic bar as the bus sped uphill.

“I’m glad this bus was here, I don’t think I could’ve walked back up there after our lunch,” you smiled at his words, his hand holding the bar above your heads, his lavender sweater going high enough for you to see his black Gucci belt keeping his turtleneck tucked in his pants. “I don’t know who had this marvellous idea of building the university on top of a hill,” you sarcastically mumbled and pressed the button next to your head as the screen announced the stop.

Hyunjae was the first to jump off the vehicle, grabbing your hand as you were quick to imitate him, the mass of students behind you forcing you out. Your crush followed you like a lost puppy through the different staircases and corridors, your great sense of orientation leading you quickly to the auditorium you were almost late to. You were out of breath when you finally arrived there, right before the clock struck 1:15 PM.

Surprisingly, the rows were practically empty, but you instantly spotted your friends in the middle, some of them still eating while the others were laughing or reading together. Hyunjae grabbed your hand for the nth time today, slowly getting used to this new feeling, and you dragged him towards them, but he resisted.

You looked at him, his eyes scanned the auditorium just like he did this morning and looked back at you with a smile before gesturing over a good spot, a bit higher and further away from your friends. Changmin, with his eagle eye, was quick to notice Hyunjae's lavender sweater and warned your friends, all turning around to observe you and your crush sitting together. Chanhee gasped as he quickly saw you holding hands, gossiping about it to his hyungs. Juyeon just shrugged, unbothered by the situation as he cracked his fingers and neck, getting ready to type.

You noticed your friends smirking at you and hid your head behind your computer screen, Eric leaning back in the vacant seats just enough for him to appear in the corner of your eye, his mouth transforming into a pout to mimic a kiss. You rolled your eyes and groaned, offering him a disapproving look, your antics sending him in a fit of giggles.

Hyunjae smiled at you before looking at your friends, who cooed and loudly gagged when he grabbed your hand and lifted it for them to see. You didn’t know what to do with yourself, embarrassment taking over your body as your friends cheered, drawing attention towards you and your crush, the latter replacing your linked hands on his lap, under the table.

“Why would you do that?” you dared to ask, and you shouldn’t have, your voice breaking mid-sentence made your crush giggle. “Let them be, they’re just happy that their best friend is getting out of their comfort zone. Plus, you look cute when you are flustered,” he said, and the professor started talking, preventing you from answering him.

He just sat there with a satisfied smile on your face, while you were trying not to pass out here and there with your heart beating this fast.

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