#again there are some changes that made me like. Hm. BUT nothing i hated

[skobeloffico]

We can do it softcore (if you want) but you should know I do it both ways.

Synopsis: nerdjo has a girlfriend who's a bigger freak than his virgin brain can handle (he never touched a woman and is surprised one WANTS to desperately touch him).

Nerd!Satoru Gojo x freak!fem reader

Tags: made with chubby reader in mind, gojos lowkey a freak too, porn with plot, vrigin gojo, teasing & edging, voyeurism (suguru is sleeping in the same room), cunnilingus, tip licking, not proof read — it's 1am lmao, banner made by me :P.

He should know better, staying up until 3am to wait for an update for his favorite gacha game. He doesn't have a gambling problem, don't worry about how much of his family fortunes he spend to get a single character. That's irrelevant.

"Satoru go to fucking sleep!" Suguru, his roommate shouts as he throws one of his pillows at satoru "just one more hour!" Satoru shouts back at the half asleep male, only receiving a 'dumbass' as a response as suguru flips to face the poster covered wall. If you told them the first time they applied to this collage that a nerd and an emo guy who smoked would be roommates — let alone friends. They would've laughed to your face.

"And after all, I'll get the glorious — MY glorious sword of heaven the one and only Aytea." Satoru said as he held his cheeks while he buzzed with anticipation "Don't remind me." Suguru moaned into his hand and covered his head with a pillow as the dark room became illuminated with a blue glow "remind you? Alright so Aytea is a goddess who–" and satoru started rambling about some character from a video game. Again. Suguru was starting to get sick of it at this point — it made him pissed that he already knew all of the information, suguru could recite it with his eyes closed and standing on one leg if he wanted to.

"– and that's why I have to have her, it's her first banner. I spend what 500 dollars on this game." Satoru said the number like it was nothing, just measly 500 dollars.

Suguru looked at him like he was crazy "you are so fucking dumb for a nerd." Now sitting up at his bed while rubbing his face with a palm "Don't you have something better to do than pester me? Go clean your piercings or whatever." Satoru shooed him with a hand as his game was close to finishing updating "Yeah, like sleep." Suguru stood up abruptly and watched the yellow line starting to close in at 100% — he debated if it was worth to unplug his PC. It wasn't.

"Yes... yes.. YES!!" satoru shouted out that the whole dorms could hear him, turning to suguru and shaking him by his shoulders "SHES HERE!!" He sat back down to start the game, immediately going to the gacha screen to try and get her atleast 6 times. What a desperate guy.

"I can't sleep like this." Suguru complained as he put on his beat up sneakers and sliding a pack of cigarettes into his pocket "I'm going out for a smoke." Satoru just dissmisingly waved his hand at him as suguru softly shut the door (he wasn't trying to get the whole dorm to hate him like satoru is doing right now.)

When suguru left satorus whole demeanor changed. He reached for his phone and unlocked it just to be met with one notification that read;

"Did your roommate leave already?"

He smiled at the notification as he pushed his glasses back up, writing a response with trembling fingers "he went out to smoke, I think i weirded him out with the new character stuff."

He stood up from his table and walked slowly to the edge of his bed, sitting at the soft mattress — he was chewing on his nails as he stared at the three dots as you typed a response.

"Hm. Can I come over?"

Satoru smiled like a kid getting presents on Christmas, this was your first time going to his (shared) dorm — suguru was always the first one to be done with lectures and always hotboxed the room that satoru couldn't breath with his asthma, coincidentally he met you at a book store where you browsed various manga and CD's. The nerd saw you pick out one of his faves — a radiohead album and a manga about superheroes, he was so embarrassed when he realized you caught him staring that satoru tried to hide his face behind a bookshelf "are you.. watching me?" You said looking up at him, did you teleport? "Uhm no ‐ I Uhm... I saw you pick out a radiohead album I too like – Tom York, I ahaha I'm rambling." Satoru had to forcefully stop himself before looking more weird in front of a pretty girl like you, and yet you smiled up at him.

Somehow his awkwardness was endearing to you and you took pity on him (his words) but you just saw a nerdy guy who never felt the touch of a woman (your words).

To be honest, satoru was so scared to introduce you to suguru thinking you'll leave him for his best friend — he's more cool, popular and handsome in his own way. If you would place satoru and suguru in a room full of women satoru is 1000% sure they would all flock to suguru.

Satoru was so lost in his delusions that he didn't realize the two hushed voices outside his dorm room, the two voices he recognized. "How long have you known each other?" "About a month now." "interesting.. he didn't tell me he has a girlfriend."

Suguru opened the door to be met with disgruntled satoru, looking at the both of you with wide piercing blue eyes "I.. you.. you two know each other?" Satoru stammered while looking at suguru who took off his shoes and jacket "we just met, I was going back and she was going the same way. Then I figure out you have a girlfriend." Suguru couldn't care less right now, the warm inviting bed just calling to him — on the other hand you were grinning at satoru like a cat.

"Oh my sweet boyfriend.." dramatically you fell into satorus embrace as you kissed his cheek smoothly "I couldn't sleep, can I sleep with you?" You giggled when you heard suguru yawn and snore in his sleep — he's supposed to be a heavy sleeper but somehow everytime he changes positions satoru is 100% he is awake and judging both of you "we ‐ we shouldn't have .. sex.. when he's here." Satoru almost sank into himself at your confused expression that turned into a smile with your tongue out "Oh I didn't mean that kind sleep, but we can have sex if you wanna."

God satoru is praying suguru didn't forget to put on his noise canceling earphones right now, with the way you are pushing satorus chest down on his creaky bed and taking off your blouse. Trailing your fingers slowly up his anime t-shirt and letting them rest on his nape — straddling his hips only for him to whimper out your name just to be shut up by your kisses "Shh satoru.. we don't want to wake him right?" Satoru shook his head softly as his hands found your soft hips — griping the supple flesh and smiling at it.

"you are so hot." He commented as you took off his prescription glasses "really?" You smiled while taking out a microfiber cloth for his glasses — cleaning the lenses thoroughly and then perching the rectangular glasses back on his face "just so you can see me better." You giggled as satorus ears turned red at your comment and action, trying to look away but one way was looking at sugurus sleeping back and the other was an anime girl looking straight into his soul, to be honest the best way was to let you tease him.

With the way you leaned down on his body made him hard, pressing your soft curves to his as he pushed you impossibly closer into his body — almost as if trying to morph into one. You kissed him so sweetly. Every kiss lingering longer than the last, kissing his jawline and neck made him shudder with want and admiration.

"Are you real?" He asked with a gasp and a hurried hand clasping over his mouth as you looked at him through your lashes "of course I am, if I weren't real you would have cum by now." You chuckled lightly at the tease when he whimpered out a pathetic 'please' and 'I want you'.

"Soon baby, Soon." You smiled into his neck as you felt his hips grind against you, trying to fuck into you but being met with the fabric of his grey sweat pants "so needy.." when you sat back up he groaned out, poor guy just wants to be close to you as humanly possible.

Satoru gripped your thighs, rubbing his thumb across the plush skin — drawing hearts and other shapes, did he just draw a dick? He looked up st you with a smirk and lidded eyes, trying not to laugh.

"Can you sometimes wear thigh-highs sometimes?" He smiled, squeezing your thighs while licking his lips not so discreetly "nah not my style." You retorted, grinding back on him "ah– worth.. a shot." He breathed heavily trying not to rip his pants off and fuck you until you both were sticky with sweat and cum, only to be covered with a blanket while holding eachother closely.

"I think he's asleep now, didn't move for a while." You said while looking at suguru, squinting your eyes for any minor movement "Focus on me pretty girl.." satorus fingers found your chin to make your face look towards him — taking your attention he so desperately craved, getting greeted with a pout "Oh is someone jealous?" He thought for a moment and the huffed out a soft 'yeah'

"is it so wrong to want my partners utmost attention?" He asked, running his thumb across your lower lip. Thinking about how your lips would feel around his cock "I supposed not, it's a shame he's here. I wanted to hear you talk about your nerdy interests as I suck your dick — making your voice shudder and all." You said with a pout while making circles on satorus chest, sighing and hopping off satorus lap only for him to get up on his elbows "Hey what are you?—" just ti be cut off by you removing your own shirt, having nothing underneath and being met with your brests right in his face "Oh Uhm, hi oh– boobs are so pretty– I MEAN YOU ARE SO PRETTY!" You giggled as satoru fought to look at your eyes and not at your breasts, red as ever. Almost popping a vein at how clenched his jaw was.

"Scoot Over." You commanded and he obeyed. Still trying not to look at your boobs, but failing miserably when you turned to look at him "do you wanna.. i dunno" he said while playing with the hem of his t-shirt "– do you wanna press against each other? Skin to skin?" Satoru asked bashfully, just for you to nod and him throwing his shirt somewhere unknown in his dorm only focusing on bringing your soft body towards his, pressing your chests together and letting your breathing slowdown.

Heart beats almost in sync.

"I want you to be my first." Satoru said with a nervous expression "really?" He nodded pressing a kiss to your lips only for you to kiss back with tongue. Interlacing your fingers into his snow white hair and him gripping your hips.

The old bed creaking underneath you two as satoru was now on top, taking in a deep breath as his fingers slipped under the elastic band of your pants "so you want this?" He asked, trying to be extra sure "yes satoru. I want you to break me lowkey." You joked only to be met with a breathless laugh as satoru took off your pants, disappearing between your thighs and parting them — licking along your slit and spreading your fold open with his thumbs sucking on your clit with attention.

"..so sweet.." He mumbled into your pussy as his palms squeezed the soft plush of your hips, his eyes closed as he ate you out like a gourmet meal. This was one of the best sensation he ever felt.

You gripped his hair with one hand when sstoru started to lick at your entrance, spreading you further for him to reach more, trying to lick every crevice. "Please pretty.. I want you to– cum on my face please.." He moaned into your cunt as his nose bumped against your clit, eating you out like a starving man. You didn't expect him to actually lick you clean when you came — savoring the liquid like it was the best dew he ever tasted. "Can we do that again?" He asked, glowing almost as you trying to catch your breath with the way he was squeezing your hips "Let's focus on you getting to cum first.." you barely breath out.

But when those words left your mouth he perked up, letting your fingers undo the tied bow on his sweatpants, then pushing them off and letting his cock spring free — already leaking precum, letting your finger glide against his tip and popping it into your mouth. Tasting him. "Are you drinking enough water? Energy drinks aren't everything you know." You commented while gripping the base of his cock, jerking him off slowly "I'll– look into it."

God he was so pretty when he looked down at you with the blushing cheeks and lidded eyes. Almost innocent in a way, even though you were going to be doing something far sinful in a moment.

Satoru gulped down left over saliva In his throat at the sight of you licking his precum off, soft licks — you were just trying to torture him when he was so close! "Please baby." He begged, like he always does. This one felt more hurried, more raw. Satotu pulled at your hair to stop you from licking, making you listen to his words "I– I really need to fuck you. Like desperately." You shrugged laying back down on your back "come on then."

Satoru looked in your eyes, you stared back. He didn't have to look which was surprising as this was his first time inserting himself into a woman — almost cumming instantly when his tip entered your wet heat. "Ohmyfuckingod.. it's so wet– it's so good.. HOLY SHIT." with every inch he pushed in he felt like he was ascending, moaning your name like a prayer.

"Holy fuck!" Satoru screamed out when he bottomed out, his hands trembling and abs clenching. His palms finding their favorite place on your hips and Humping into you like a crazed maniac "easy there toru!" You said with a laugh only to be shut up by him biting your neck and licking over the mark.

"It feels so good im sorry.." satoru whimpered out a half assed apology — like hell he was sorry! With the way his hips only sped up at your moans and with the squelches of your pussy echoing into the quiet room.

—

The last thing you remember was satoru cleaning you up with his tongue, lapping up any climax that dared to leave your cunt. Licking his lips at the end witha satisfied smile.

"You two are freaks!" Suguru yelled out, gripping his hair as he shoved his head between two pillows. "Why thank you suguru." You said with a smile and satoru blushed, covering his face with his palm only for you to turn to satoru "how do you feel about threesomes?"

© Scobeloffico : Don't repost my work, don't plagiarize it on different sites (ao3, wattpad)

[buckyalpine]

Sharon calls you fat (pregnant reader)

I live for the angst where Sharon/people call reader fat and make fun of her not knowing she's pregnant and Bucky protects the ever living fuck out of her because that's his gorgeous babymama. Bonus when Sharon is a jealous hoe. Throw in some protective avengers in there too. Breeding kink? Pregnancy kink? Also yes. He's a feral, horny little shit here, I apologize.

You huffed as you buttoned your jeans, the waistband sitting snugly around your waist, pressing into your skin a little bit more than usual. You dug through the closet to find one of Bucky's hoodies to slip on, loving the way the soft material engulphed you in his scent.

You weren't showing much yet but your body was certainly changing. Your sense of smell was heightened, constantly craving to be surrounded by your boyfriends smell. Your breasts were growing heavier and your clothes were more fitting than before. Cravings had already started. Your cheeks were a tad fuller and you were certainly glowing.

Bucky's super soldier serum was no joke.

You made your way down to make something for breakfast, grabbing a bag of peppermint tea to help with some of the nausea you had been experiencing. Sharon sauntered into the kitchen, still clad in her tiny workout clothes as she went to the fridge to grab a water bottle.

"Hey Sharon" You smiled as you poured water into your mug while munching on a cookie, grabbing another when your tummy rumbled. Baby Barnes clearly took after daddy, craving anything and everything sweet. And salty. And sweet and salty.

"Hey y/n" Sharon's eyes looked at you up and down, cocking her head slightly while you snacked, rummaging around for something else to eat. "Might wanna cut down a little there, huh" She teased, nodding to the potato chip you popped into your mouth.

"What?" You weren't sure you heard correctly, setting down the bag while she pursed her lips.

"Oh, nothing. I don't know how you eat that stuff, it's so greasy"

"Hm, yeah I guess" You gave her a weak smile, her words causing the insecurities you were already feeling about your body to creep back up again. You had a heavy feeling in your chest, seeing her flit about the kitchen, still perfectly toned. You shook those thoughts away, remembering the reason beautiful your body was different but it didn't do much.

The words still stung.

You decided to make your way back to your room to wait for Bucky to return from his morning jog with Steve, passing by one of the new trainees as you left the kitchen. Their hushed whispers caused you to stop in your tracks, your stomach dropping when you heard what they were saying.

"She's getting fat" Sharon snorted, hardly noticing you weren't out of ear shot while the trainee giggled along with her, nodding in agreement.

"Oh my God, you should've seen her at the gym yesterday. She was breathing so hard while running on the treadmill, I thought she was going to pass out. I don't even think she lasted 5 minutes before calling it quits" The trainee replied while Sharon rolled her eyes.

"She's gonna looked like a beached whale if she keeps eating like that, I swear she finished the entire row single handedly"

"I don't get what Bucky is doing with her. Honestly, I'm not even complaining. If she gets any fatter he's gonna leave her so maybe that'll make it easier for me" Sharon cackled along with the girl, the both of them snickering while swooning over the soldier. "He's so hot. I don't get what the hell he's doing with her, he can do so much better. Just wait till I show him, he'll see what he's missed out on"

You hardly realized you'd broken down into tears, slapping a hand over your mouth to keep from sobbing. You ran to your shared bedroom as fast as you could before anyone else saw you, closing the door and instructing FRIDAY to keep everyone out. You threw your jeans off, hating the way they were tighter on you, curling up under the covers, muffling your cries into the pillow.

-

Bucky ran his fingers through his short locks, making his way to the kitchen to grab some water after his run, smiling to himself knowing how much you loved to slink around him whenever he worked out. He loved how needy and cuddly you were, always burying your face into his neck of chest, trying to crawl up him like a tree.

"Where are you babygirl" Bucky called for you, expecting to see you in the perched in the kitchen with your pepper mint tea you'd recently been relying on, only to find a full mug without you in sight. Sharon and the new agent were still there, both of them eyeing him up and down, hoping to get his attention.

"Hey Sarge-

"Have you seen y/n" Bucky cut Sharon off, still looking around for you. Sharon rolled her eyes again, stating she hadn't seen you at all, since she'd spend her own morning working out. Bucky frowned, picking up the still hot tea, taking it up as he made his way to the bedroom.

"Sweeheart?" Bucky called for you softly, his heart racing when he hard soft sniffles from the other side of the door, his anxiety spiking when the door was locked. "Baby, are you okay? Can you open the door please?"

You hiccupped, trying to calm yourself down hearing Bucky's worried voice, quickly wiping your face before getting out of bed to open the door for him. His heart broke seeing his sweet girl with red rimmed eyes and puffy cheeks from crying, pulling you into him while shutting the door behind him.

"What's wrong mama" Bucky cooed, hugging you tightly while you whimpered in his hold, your insecurities at an all time high as he slipped his hand under your hoodie to stroke the bare skin of your back.

"Am I fat?" You whispered, worried the question would make realize you were less attractive, a fresh wave of tears streaming down your face.

"What?" Bucky pulled away, shock evident on his face while you stared at your feet, swallowing nervously.

"Please don't make me say it"

"Sweetheart, look at me" He held your face firmly in his hands making you look a him, "Why would you ask such a thing"

"I-I heard some people talking in the kitchen. Said I'm fat" If it wasn't for Bucky's enhanced hearing, he would've missed your fallen voice as you hide your face in his chest again.

"Absolutely not baby, who said that to you" Bucky held back on the red hot anger that surged through him, needing to comfort you first before raining hell on whoever hurt you.

"But I am Bucky!" You cried in frustration, pulling away from his hold. "It looks awful and I'm just going to keep getting bigger, I- I get if you don't find me as attractive-

"Hey, hey, stop, baby look at me" Bucky stopped your rambling, pulling you back into him, his hands holding your face firmly, "Do you have any idea how gorgeous you are to me? Hm? Do you have any idea how insanely attracted I've been to you ever since you told me you're pregnant?"

You shook your head, your heart jolting when he pushed himself against you, letting you feel the hardness between his legs, poorly contained in his joggers.

"Bucky-

"C'mere" Bucky threw your hoodie off before stripping his own clothes aside, his hard cock angry and leaking, desperate to fill you. "M'gonna show you baby"

He didn't give you a second to protest, carrying you over to bed and laying you down, spreading your legs apart, flicking his cock against your clit before tracing it down to your entrance and shoving himself home.

"Bucky!" you moaned, your legs moving on their own to wrap around his waist as he started to move, throbbing the entire time.

"You're so fuckin' beautiful mama, if you weren't pregnant already, we'd be in here all day till you were" Bucky groaned, grabbing and caressing your soft skin, already leaking into you. "You're gonna look so sexy when your belly gets all round, when these breasts get all big, they're gonna leak so much carrying my baby"

He moved to tug your swollen nipples between his pink lips, groaning at the thought of how sweet your milk would taste. Your back arched off the bed from how sensitive they were, your cunt fluttering around his cock, sucking him in deeper.

"I already know you're gonna get so swollen mama, its my baby in your belly. Did you forget its my cum that got you pregnant? Did you forget there's all that serum in my cock baby? I got you fuckin' pregnant, I'm you're babydaddy, I can't wait to see you get all tired, pouty and big with my super soldier baby"

"Oh fuck Bucky" you wailed, his words making your heart swell while your pussy nearly squirted as he hit that spongy spot deep in you, "P-please don't-don't stop"

"I won't stop baby, couldn't even if I wanted to, y'feel too good. Fuck, just knowing you're pregnant makes me so hard, can't believe I knocked suck a pretty little thing up, so lucky I got to stuff you nice and full"

Bucky started to fuck you harder till he headboard added new dents to the wall since the extra strength walls Tony added had nothing on Bucky's stamina and strength.

"Can't wait till everyone sees how pretty you're gonna look, m'gonna show you off, make sure everyone knows you're my girl, the love of my life, that you're carrying a piece of me in you"

"But- but what if they think-I won't look-" You're insecurities tried to sneak back in but Bucky wasn't having any of it, shutting ha down immediately.

"I'll fuck you in front of them. You think I give a fuck? I'll bend this pretty ass over, hold that perfectly round belly and stuff my cock in you till it leaks and makes a mess on the floor. I'll show them exactly what I did to get you that big in the first place, let them see how swollen my cock gets for you, goddamn, I'm gonna cum!"

Bucky fucked you hard and fast, letting you feel him in your stomach, not holding back one bit, his hand flying to grip onto the headboard.

"Bucky-Bucky gonna-I'm gonna-!OH GOD" You let out a silent scream, cumming around him without warning, your pregnancy making you extra sensitive, being able to orgasm without him even touching you.

"This sweet, soft fuckin' body" Bucky's pace faltered, sinking his teeth into your shoulder, "So good to me, so fuckin' good!, gonna cum mama, gonna give you more of my cream, gonna full that pussy up n'keep you pregnant forever, take it gorgeous, fuckin' beautiful, no one makes me hard like this, m'gonna cum so hard-fuck-fuck-FUCCCKKK M'CUMMING" Bucky roared against your neck, his cock bursting with ropes of cum, emptying his balls dry with sloppy thrusts until the sheets were soaked. You both panted, sweat covering your bodies, the sweet, primal smell of sex filling the room making your practically purr.

"You're the most beautiful thing to ever happen to me. I love you no matter what. You're stunning to me at any size, pregnant or not, don't you ever forget it" Bucky held you firmly, brushing his hands over your belly, pressing a kiss to your temple. You nodded, already feeling better, nervousness replacing your previous anxiety because you knew Bucky wouldn't let the incident slide.

"Who made you feel this way baby" His voice was gentle but he wasn't leaving any room for negotiation.

"Just leave it Bucky" You shrugged, not wanting to make it a big deal but he shook his head.

"Can't do that sugar. No one makes my doll upset. You get some rest alright? let me make you lunch and we'll take a nap after"

You nodded, letting him slip his henley over your head, grabbing some comfy sweats for you to wear and throwing on his own clothes before heading down. You froze as you neared the kitchen seeing everyone else downstairs gathered for lunch which was a rare sight but there had been less mission recently meaning everyone was home. Bucky gave your hand a comforting squeeze, a stark contrast the to protective anger he felt again.

"Who the fuck spoke about y/n" Bucky stormed down, silence filling the room immediatly, everyone staring at each other in confusion while Sharon's face filled with guilt. "Well?!"

"What happened Buck, Steve and I were training this morning" Sam said honestly, while the others nodded in agreement, still looking at each other wondering what was going on. "You okay, sweetheart?"

"Well someone said something because she was upset in our bedroom and it happened today" Bucky had a good feeling about who caused your distress, knowing no one else would ever do such a thing but he wasn't about to call out Sharon ha easily, seeing her already squirming in discomfort.

"There's an easy solution to all this, give me a second" Tony typed something into his phone before calling for Friday, "FRIDAY can you play back the audio from this morning from when y/n was in here"

"Certainly, Mr. Stark"

The audio started with you greeting Sharon, followed by her comment and then the conversation she had with the new trainee. Shock and gasps filled the room, everyone glaring at the blonde with disgust while she shook her head, her stomach churning.

"I-I didn't say anything! That wasn't even me!"

"Really? Then who the fuck was it" Bucky spat, ready to jump her across the table, his fists balled at his side. Sharon huffed, biting her lip while Bucky continued to glare at her, still holding your hand softly in his. His anger only flared more, thinking about how she thought she could replace you.

"Fine! I said it! But was I wrong? She is bigger than before" Sharon weakly defended herself, trembling when Bucky flinched, his self restraint growing thinner. Your eyes grew steamy, squeaking when Bucky moved to wrap his arm around your tummy, slipping it under your shirt.

"Cause she's pregnant. With my baby. I'm her babydaddy. I got her pregnant. You wanna know how? I fucked her. So hard. I didn't just fuck her, I made love to her cause she's my girl. Do you have any idea how attracted I am to her? How much cum there was? I didn't pull out once. She's so tight around my cock, its hard not to fill her up. Just kept going until my dick started to hurt and even then, I didn't wanna pull out"

Sam smirked at Bucky's utterly unhinged, x-rated rambling while Steve buried his red face in his hands. Tony cackled from the side while Nat patiently waited to get a chance to lay her hands on Sharon on Bucky's behalf.

"I-I get it, enough-

"You're delusional if you think I'd ever leave her for you. This is the love of my life. She's giving me a baby. She's beautiful. I chose this woman because she's special, she's this one I want to have a family with. You know what, you better get used to it cause I'm gonna get her pregnant again and again and it won't be hard considering how badly I constantly want her. In fact, we fucked just now, tell your little friend that"

"Oh my god" Sharon huffed, harshly wiping her tear streaked face, ready to throw up from embarrassment. She choked a sob, running out without looking back, Bucky's words tearing her apart. Everyone ignored her presence, immediately piling onto you with hugs, kisses and congratulations instead.

"Congratulations, babydaddy" Sam grinned, playfully nudging Bucky's shoulder making him blush, his arms still wrapped around your tummy. "And to you, little mama"

"I call god father" Steve announced, kissing your cheek before pulling Bucky into a tight hug, happy for his best friend and you.

Nat cracked a few knuckles, giving you a quick peck on the head, promising to celebrate later before following Sharon out, ready to hand her ass to her. The little trainee would be next.

"So what you're both saying is there's gonna be another super soldier running around here?" Tony's eyes lit up with excitement and a dash of fear when he remembered the baby would also be surrounded by idiots like Sam and Steve. He'd have to reinforce everything.

Immediately.

[sqgeism]

Hi! for my req, im puctring a reader who is aloof and just as independent as anaxa is, but can you write a scenario where dove and him are married, and he comes to seek them out after a very long day? im thinking aloof but gentle type for reader, very private but very warm? man i love for kindred spirits :DD

𓎟𓎟 a sweet request from a lovely anonnie 𝄞 a love letter signed with anaxagoras' initials 𐙚 𓏵𓏵𓏵 𐙚

ℒ.ove mail — 🍒 ꫂ aww this is cute. im a big fan of this req LMAO i felt like its a good one to establish their dynamic <3 welcome back everyone ! we are back in the building and i dont have long till i leave again oops

every day anaxagoras is reminded why he hates attending office parties.

and it's not like he hates the fellow staff—not all of them—but most he loses his tolerance once someone starts drunkenly blabbering about some nonsense. gossips from the students, their personal lives, or maybe even from the head teachers and whatnot. which is why he leaves early, there's nothing of interest for him to discuss and he doesn't want to darken their mood with his brooding. also, why stay when he can just go home? makes more sense to him.

so putting into consideration that the day was long, and unbelievably hard (socializing with an insufferable co-worker), it made the appeal of coming home much sweeter.

sweet it was, seeing you after such a night. after the chaos, the quite frankly atrocious music, and being shoved around since no one could stand straight, he needed you. and you never failed to be there.

"you're home later than i thought." you say in response to his silence, your eyes still glued to the novel in your hands. "you really tried to tolerate it, hm?"

"indeed, but even i have my limits, and it does not take long to reach them." he mutters while hanging his coat, stripping himself of his usual layers of clothing till he was left with his shirt and pants, sighing. "dove, do you mind moving to the couch?" he asks. "i know you adore your lounge chair, but i.. i think i need you. for just tonight."

your laughter sounds like a blessing after everything. "only tonight? are you not aware you have me for the rest of our lives? but i don't mind, come here."

and every day your husband is reminded to thank whatever aeon brought you two together, because you just.. fit so perfectly. your legs between his, laying on top of him, arms around your waist as he just.. looks at you. adores you, even. years of marriage hasn't lessened just how much you mean to him in the grand scheme of things, and if it had changed, it was merely his admiration.

he thinks it must not mean much to you (it does), but the way his feelings have developed for you came in an unexpected yet.. somehow needed wave. he thought he could still metaphorically feel the sand beneath his feet after being swept underneath, but he came up for air and felt nothing below him. he had moved past what he thought was just shallow, fleeting affection. and now swam in the vast ocean of uncertainty yet excitement for what could come in his relationship.

but aeon forbid, marriage? being a husband.. he always thought it was nothing but a far away dream.

yet you're right here, giving him that look you always do, with that same smile he fell inlove with four years ago.

"anaxagoras?"

"yes, my dove?"

"you have that look again." the scholar tilts his head, humming curiously. "what look?"

"the look that tells me that you'd let me stay here forever if i just asked."

"will you?" "perhaps i will."

"then.." he brings you close, pressing the faintest kiss to your lips, murmuring against your mouth. "..stay, forever."

© sqgeism or wtv (^_^;)

[luvingtsumu]

𝐆𝐄𝐓 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐇𝐈𝐍𝐓 𖥔 ࣪˖ ( MIYA ATSUMU X FEM!READER )

noticing small changes is difficult at first, but when they start becoming so visible it’s hard to not overthink stuff, but miya atsumu definitely wasn’t in love with you, right? even when it was painfully obvious.

★ genre: fluff | content: friends to lovers, fluff, jealousy, actions speaking louder than words.

★ author’s note: now that i have a job i’ve been buying a lot of atsumu merch, i’m gonna end up broke.

O1 . BACKPACK

You and Atsumu always played rock, paper, scissors after school to decide who was carrying the backpacks, usually, you were the loser, and he always made sure to rub it in your face.

He was lazy, he never wanted to carry anyone’s backpacks, especially not yours; so this rock, paper, scissors game worked perfectly for him —since he already knew you always picked scissors first.

“I won again!” he said, sticking his tongue out at you.

“Not fair! Let’s play again.” you crossed your arms over your chest, glaring at him.

“C’mon, we already played 3 times, yer a loser.” he said, throwing his backpack at you.

You catch it with both hands, groaning slightly as you glared at him.

“Oh, come on! My back hurts today.” you complained “I fell on my back today.”

“Ya fell?” he laughed.

“Fucking Kino threw the ball at me way too hard! That was a hate crime.” he laughed again so you hit him on the shoulder “Shut up!”

“Sorry, sorry.” he smiled “Does it hurt or what?”

“A little bit.”

“Are ya that weak? Geez, no wonder why yer always tired in p.e. class.” he snickered.

“You know I hate you?” you rolled your eyes, placing his backpack on your shoulder.

“I figured.” he stole his and your backpack from your hands, placing them over his shoulders.

You looked at him with a confused look before smirking, he scoffed and looked away.

“‘m only gonna take ‘em today, cause yer hurt, alright?”

That was the first time that Atsumu, on his own willing, carried your backpack for you.

Then there was a second time.

Then a third one.

And suddenly you realize that now you barely carried your backpack after school. At first you were happy about that, and teased him about being your servant, but then you started to feel a bit bad cause he was always carrying your stuff; and even when you insisted on helping, he would brush you off.

“Yer too week, I don’t want yer back to get hurt.”

“I already have it on me.”

“Don’t complain, ‘m helpin’ ya.”

You thought it was weird that he was acting so nice, but you figured maybe he changed his ways and wanted to be nicer, besides, it was great not having to carry your heavy backpack; so you finally let it happen with no complaints.

O2 . FOOD

Atsumu absolutely hated when people ate his food, he didn’t even let his own brother grab a cookie from his lunch.

Either way, you didn’t cared if he didn’t liked it, you always found a way to steal a bit of his food, and he was always loud when you did it, calling you names and pulling your arms so you wouldn’t get to steal another onigiri.

You were used to that, and still, you didn’t even noticed when that changed. It started small and it was easy to not notice a change, but soon enough his brother pointed out how Atsumu didn’t got mad at you anymore when you stole his food, he didn’t budged and just gave you a small glance before going back to eating.

You thought about it for a bit and decided to test it, grabbing some of his tuna when he was just about to eat it.

“Hm, this one doesn’t taste that good as the one you brought yesterday.” you said after swallowing the food.

He looked between you and the tuna, then he started eating without budging “Yeah, ‘samu did the one yesterday.”

“That explains it, you’re a terrible cook.” he glared at you, making you chuckle “Respectfully.”

You noticed him rolling his eyes, but you got nothing more than that after stealing his food; so you decided to ask him to see if his reaction would change.

“Can I have some of your chips, ‘tsumu?”

“Open ‘em.” he said, handing you the bag of chips “Just make sure no one else eats ‘em.” and with that, he continued eating.

You gave him a weird look, raising and eyebrow.

You were so used to him yelling at you that it felt strange that he wasn't doing it. For some reason, it made you feel guilty, again. It felt better to steal food from him and have him yelling at you, rather than him handing it to you.

“You know what? I’m not hungry.” you said, handing him the bag of chips “Thanks though.”

That was the last time you attempted to eat from his food, unless he vocally expressed he wanted to share his food from you.

He even looked bothered by the fact you weren’t stealing his food anymore, but your best friend loved his food, so you sure were imagining things.

O3 . TWINS

Even if Atsumu and Osamu fought all the time, they were still brothers, they were still twins. They still told everything to each other —even if they pretended to not listen—, and they still wanted to help each other.

So even if you tried to stop yourself from overthinking, it wasn’t an easy task. You felt like the twins knew something about you that not even you knew. It was weird, of course, but it felt like they were working against you or about you.

They would whisper at each other when you passed by them, and you always saw them sharing looks when you hung out with them. To be honest, you felt left out, it felt like you were missing something.

Normally, you would tell the twins about your current concern, but in this case, they were the current concern, so you decided to rely on Aran.

“Don’t mind them.” he waved his hand in the air “They’re always all weird, same thing happened to me and turns out they just admired me a lot.” he smirked.

You chuckled “I don’t think they admire me, Aran, it’s easier to think they despise me.”

“You’re their best friend, they don’t hate you.” he assured you “They’re better than that.”

Aran’s words were reassuring, and you decided to stop focusing on the topic and let the twins do their own stuff.

Even when Osamu asked you weird and too specific questions about your love life.

Or when he suddenly canceled on plans last minute, making you and Atsumu stay alone.

Or when he exchanged weird looks with Atsumu whenever you spoke about boys.

All just coincidence’s.

O4 . JEALOUSY

“Me ‘nd ‘samu we’re talkin’ the other day…” he took a bite of his burger “‘nd it would be pretty cool to go to the beach this weekend.”

“Don’t talk with your mouth full.” you chuckled, before sighing “The beach?”

He swallowed his food as he nodded “Yeah! The weather has been nice this past days.”

“I can’t this weekend.” you took a sip of your drink, watching his expression grow confused.

“What? Why?”

“I have plans with Kino and Shinji. Although I don’t think Shinji is gonna make it, so just me and Kino.”

Atsumu’s eyebrows visibly raised as he listened to your words. You continued eating, unaware of the way Atsumu’s stomach did a flip.

“Why are ya goin’ with them anyway?” he mumbled as he took a very small bite of his almost finished burger.

You scoffed “What do you mean why? They’re my friends.” you smiled.

“I thought they were just dudes in yer classroom.”

“No.” you chuckled “I’m actually friends with them, even when they’re a pain in the ass. I’m actually closer to Kino.” you said, thinking out loud.

Atsumu’s jaw clenched as he wrapped up what was left of the burger and threw it in the trash can.

“Weekends are for me, tho…” he said without thinking, quickly changing his words “—‘nd for ‘samu too.”

“Oh, come on, for one weekend that I don’t spend time with you? You’ll survive.”

Atsumu grumbled “I guess.”

Atsumu zoned out for a few seconds, deep in thought until he finally turned to see you.

“Isn’t Kino the guy ya went to eat with the other day?”

“Yeah, you remember him?” you smiled.

“Yeah. I actually do.”

Of course he did, Osamu is friends with one of Kino’s close friends, and he told Osamu that Kino had a big, fat crush on you. Of course he did. But you were his girl, his! How dare this other man disterup his precious time with you.

“Enjoy yer time with him, or whatever.” he sighed, rubbing the side of his neck as he tried to ease the feeling inside of him.

“I will.” you chuckled “We can go to the beach other day.”

“Sure.”

He didn’t understand why he was feeling like this, so bitter about you having other friendships besides him, other guys that liked you like he did —or maybe not like he did, cause he definitely liked you more than any ordinary guy ever will.

O5 . TEXTS AND CALLS

Your phone vibrated with a notification, and you knew who it was even before you turned on your screen.

Atsumu, of course it was him.

Normally you couldn’t have a single conversation with him over text, since he was barely on his phone, always studying, training or playing some game with Osamu. He never checked his texts and it was a real challenge to try to get in contact with him during summer break cause he never answered.

You always told him it was like talking to a wall, truly, and he always scoffed and told you he was a busy man with a busy life.

But now all of that had changed, cause suddenly now he had so much time, apparently. Always texting you every time he wanted and could, spaming your phone. You two even did calls when he walked back home or when he went to the convenience store.

You didn’t knew when it changed, but you weren’t complaining. It was like having a puppy begging for attention 24/7. Kinda fun.

[ 9:20 p.m. ] i found a cat on the way back home and it fucking bit me

[ 9:20 p.m. ] i mean, the AUDACITY

[ 9:21 p.m. ] and also, i bought you some of those chips you wanted the other day, the disgusting ones 🥰

[ 9:21 p.m. ] yeah, i know, i’m the best. don’t thank me too much, it was all me

[ 9:21 p.m. ] also, APPARENTLY you don’t put spoons on the microwave, never knew that huh

[ 9:23 p.m. ] are you gonna answer or what

[ 9:23 p.m. ] HELLOOOO??????

[ 9:26 p.m. ] do you hate me or what

[ 9:30 p.m. ] YOU’RE LITERALLY ONLINE

[ 9:30 p.m. ] WHO ARE YOU ANSWERING TO 😐😐

[ 9:31 p.m. ] why won’t you answer meeeee

[ 9:40 p.m. ] what did i do? are you mad at me and that’s why you’re not answering?

[ 9:40 p.m. ] tell me and i’ll apologize

[ 9:40 p.m. ] i’ll get on my knees

[ 9:41 p.m. ] if i get a tattoo of your name on my whole chest will you forgive me and speak to me again?

[ 10:00 p.m. ] i was taking a bath. WHAT

[ 10:00 p.m. ] HEY OMG YOU DON’T HATE ME :3

[ 10:01 p.m ] cringe. and i do hate you

[ 10:01 p.m ] also, did your microwave exploded or what?

[ 10:02 p.m. ] i wasn’t aware of microwave instructions ok, leave me alone

[ 10:04 p.m ] you stupid

You chuckled to yourself as Atsumu started spamming even more texts. It was fun.

Soon enough you got a call, and you know you two were probably gonna fall asleep on the phone once again.

O6 . PHYSICAL TOUCH

Atsumu was a sucker for physical touch, you knew that since you became friends with him. He was always bothering everyone, grabbing their hands, ruffling their hair, hugging them, any way that provided him physical touch worked for him!

It was something you were used to but not something you were always expecting, and also you were sure he wasn’t expecting any from you. Or so you thought, cause lately he’s been kinda whiny about it.

“So, see you tomorrow.” you waved at him as you closed your door after he dropped you off.

You went calmly upstairs, dropping your things in bed and then going to open the curtains and— there he was. Standing in front of the door with his arms crossed.

You raised an eyebrow and opened the window, yelling at him “The hell you’re doing?”

He looked up at you, huffing and then looking down again.

You rolled your eyes and closed your window again before making your way downstairs to see what he needed.

“What, weirdo?” you opened the door, just to see him pouting.

“Ya forgot to hug me goodbye.” he spoke through his teeth.

“Hug you goodbye?” you said with amusement.

“Yeah.” he looked down at him “Ya hate me or somethin’? Ya always hug me before ya leave.”

“Oh, my bad, king.” you mocked, before opening your arms and pulling him for a hug.

He whined but soon enough his arms wrapped around your waist, head buried into your shoulder.

You chuckled as you rolled your eyes, hands rubbing his back, feeling every muscle. Atsumu’s thumbs rubbed circles in the exposed skin of your lower back, he sighed, breathing in your soft scent.

“I’ll see you tomorrow.” you mumbled.

“Yeah.” he mumbled back “I’ll pick ya up.”

“Alright.”

“Alright.”

But none of you let go of the other.

O7 . CRUSH?

As a way to celebrate the school days being finally over to go into summer break, you organized a sleepover, and now Atsumu, Osamu, Suna and Aran were there since the others couldn’t make it.

As you and the guys spoke about Osamu’s crush, you suddenly turned to Atsumu.

“And you? Any girl got your heart?” you smiled.

The room suddenly went silent, except for Suna’s low chuckle.

Atsumu was quiet too, he was thinking. Wasn’t he obvious enough? Didn’t he showed his feelings? His heart that beats to your name?

“No.” he looked down, cheeks getting red as he started fidgeting with the control he was holding.

You raised an eyebrow, looking at everyone else. It seemed like they all knew something you didn’t.

“Guys?” you mumbled, but everyone seemed to look away from you.

You looked back at Atsumu and saw his red cheeks, then you looked down, noticing your leg that was on top of his.

Suddenly something clicked in your head. And bells started ringing on your head.

Everything started making sense like a piece of a puzzle.

The girl he had a crush on, was you. Miya Atsumu had a deep crush on you and had been trying to show it to you the whole time.

And, oh god.

You were in love with him too.

[dark-lord-of-awesomeness]

Au where it’s kinda similar to doodle ford but where Stan gets Isekai’d.

Stan an only child grew up watching this comedic show from the 60’s called Mystery Falls. The protagonist of the show, Ford, always faces against his nemesis Bill Cipher. However for one of the episodes it reveals a twist!! Ford has a twin brother, an evil twin brother who runs around committing crimes, Mr. Mystery and his henchman Questiony the question mark.

It was a good show until it started to derail and become one of those more grim dark edgy shows where everything is miserable.

Stan when he was still kicked out of his parents house, watched Mystery falls like a lifeline, because the show used to bring him some comfort. Unfortunately the show ended terribly with having one of those, twisted bad endings where Ford ends up being Bill Cipher’s pet and everyone else dies.

However one day, he wakes up as the main protagonist’s evil twin Brother!! Mr. Mystery!!

Only as he starts to slowly realize the character that he’s playing might have not been evil, but actually has been trying to help Ford, but Ford “hates” him because he made a huge mistake.

Stanley’s goal? Protect Ford, stop original show’s ending from happening. Be a father figure….to his weird side kick kid… Soos?

OH and there’s a bonus twist ;)

For Ford, he remembers the previous events of the show and thinks he has “future knowledge” on how to save the world and prevent Bill from taking over.

Meanwhile Stanley is going around changing things majorly and Ford’s like ????? this is DIDNT happen last time what’s going on?!?!

Stanley: I’m going to reform this show to its former glory and turn it into a comedy again

Ford: What the hell?! THIS ISNT MY GRIM DARK ACTION HERO SHOW?!

———-

Stan: How do I keep acquiring people WHY DO YOU KEEP FOLLOWING ME

Kid Soos: I want a dad

Manly Dan: You seem chill and I want to punch trees and people

Emma-May: You all are weird creatures to me, I must study you.

Carla: A jobs a job and I have none

——-

OOOOOOH WAIT WHAT IF EMMA-MAY WAS ISEAKAI’D TOO?! And she’s like *looks at original bland Fidds wife character who was supposed to die in the opening act of the grim dark arc*

Emma-May: Oh HELL NAH, this is fascinating I must learn all of the intricacies of this world and do experiments.

Tate: Mama..?

Emma-May: COME SMALL CHILD LET US GO RESSERCT THE DINOSAURS!

——-

Fiddleford: My wife’s acting weird….

Ford: Don’t have time for that F, I have to determine what move Mr. Mystery is playing next! Surely he is playing 4D chess and I must anticipate his next move of villainy

Meanwhile with Stan:

Stan: Uhhhh we’ll be… *throws darts on a list of criminal activities* robbing… *throws another dart it lands on museum* a museum, for… *throws dart* Squids.

(And for those are wondering this is inspired by Scum Villain Saving System heheh)

Oho this is fun! Give me a moment. I have not read scum villain saving system, so bear with me.

Hmmmmm. Hmmm. Hm.

OK. Mystery Falls started out as a monster of the week show, where Stanford Pines, aka Six Shooter the protagonist fight against an array of monsters and villains in a sort of Scooby-Doo batman action superhero mix. It started out as a comedy, but as time went on and they tried to add more plot and move away from the monster of the week format it took on a darker tone and ended on a sour note. Fans hoped for a movie to wrap it up, but by the time Stan died at 28 in a back alley nothing had ever been hinted at.

The show follows Ford and his mission to keep peace in The Falls, a paranormal city/town that's rife with crime and demons trying to cause trouble (sort of teen titans style). Ford works with fiddleford (his man in the chair) to find Mysteries, solve them, beat up the bad guy, and keep the peace. Bill Cipher was the big bad always sending goons and henchmaniacs after him, Mr. Mystery was a behind the scenes joke villain that was revealed to be Fords twin brother, Emma-May was a background bland character meant to add conflict to Fiddlefords storyline and got killed off, and everyone else was background or minor characters.

This is the world Stan wakes up in after a deal gone wrong kills him at 28. Takes him a moment to get his bearings, understan where and who he is, and learns that Mr. Mystery wasn't actually the crook he appears in the show, but using crime to cover up his own monster fighting and information gathering attempts. Ford was angry and never wanted Stan's help, so he went around defeating low level demons before they could become problems. Since Ford would explode at any sign if Stan helping, he'd do a crime to hide his involvement.

Well, now Stan has to deal with all of the og Stan's plotting, as well as add his own. He's gonna keep this show so light hearted no one will know what hit them. He's gonna ramp up the goofs, become an anti hero, do silly heists and save key characters to stop the og ending from happening! Like Fiddlefords wife! Emma-May! Who is now moving into his lair and making monsters in his basement.

Huh?

Emma-May also watched the show, but cared absolutely 0 about the plot and characters and was only in it for the world building. Just loved watching shows where you could do anything with science, and Mystery Falls had an interesting blend that let all kinds of whacky creatures loose. A world she finds herself in after her lab explodes. She doesn't care about the plot or any of that, all she wants to do is test the limits of her new reality and not die. Since her new 'husband' is a hero and would not be ok with her going mad, she's gotta find somewhere else to set up shop. Like Mr. Mystery, the character who rarely appears in person and is very mysterious, basement. He's not quite how she remembers from the show, but he can supply her with space and she'll help his criminal career as long as he uses his ability to never be found to her advantage.

Meanwhile Ford, the main character who was launched back in time to fix all his mistakes, is floundering. He had it all planned out, what to do so none of what happened happened, very grimdark, except Emma-May is barely around, Mr. Mystery has become even more unpredictable and silly, and a whole set of new criminals under his brother are crawling out from the woodwork. Half his plans are useless now that a bunch of threats were taken care of by Mr. Mystery when he was doing crime in the same area, and the other half are useless because no one is acting how they should. Fiddlefords freaking out because his wife got a secret job and is acting strange, Mr. Mystery acts like he barely knows Ford (and that's where their at now huh? Gonna pretend none of their past happened (Stan has no idea what happened, it's a huge plot hole the writers never addressed)), and who?? Are all these other criminals???

Madam Mystique (Carla) really needed a job that wouldn't get demolished every other day and is technically Stan's secretary but evil. Keeps track of Stan's schemes and makes sure things are on time, got hired after he robbed her third job that week and she got so angry at his newly hired semi incompetent goons she started yelling at them to pick up the pace so they could all go home.

Manly Mayham (Dan) got really caught up in the energy when Stan went to rob a zoo of their goats(he's got a nice mix of crimes for fun and crimes for plot, somehow this was plot related), grabbed a goat and followed Stan home and then no one could get him to leave. Rose in the goon ranks until he was Stan's muscle that he really hopes parents are at least somewhat aware of where he is.

Questiony came with the Mr. Mystery name and Stan has no idea what to do with this kid but he's essential for the zanny atmosphere. Gotta keep him around for the comedy to reach its peak.

Dr. Conundrum (Emma-May), a brand new never before seen threat adding strange monsters to Fords list of problems. Works alongside Mr. Mystery by making distractions and whacky creatures for the lulz. They get a wheel set up for what kind of creatures Emma-May should try to make ranging from 'knives' to 'made of bubble wrap'.

Stan's trying to survive and save the heart of the show, Emma-May is assisting through the sheer thrill of bringing her imagination to life, and Ford really wishes they'd take things seriously around here.

[itz-mfkn-de]

\\ALWAYS YOU//. M.R

warnings— OOC MATTHEO, Im a sucker for toxic boys but I made him extra sweet in his one idk why, uhhh not many tbh, cussing, kissing, smoking, that’s all I think.

summary— Mattheo was your best friend, always had been, but was the title of ‘friend’ enough?

-my first work for Mattheo! I will eventually get a master list going once I get more comfertable posting on here. This is a repost of one of my works on wattpad, just with some tweaks bc that work was olldddd-

You sat against mattheos 𝐛𝐞𝐝, 𝐥𝐨𝐨𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠 out of his dorm window.

"You know, some times, I'm worried for you. You just stare at things, it's weird." He snickered  as he took a drag from his cigarette.

You looked at him and scoffed, "Sometimes I'm worried about your lungs, you're bound to get some type of problem with all that's smoking you do." You half-joked, glancing at him.

He rolled his eyes, tilting his head up and blew the smoke out of his mouth.

"Seriously Mattheo, that stuff is absolute horse-shit for your body." You stated, accompanying your words with a sharp glare.

"I don't do it that often, just when I'm stressed." He muttered, taking his feet off of his desk and turning his body to face you.

"What happened to the whole 'I don't give a fuck about anything or anybody but myself' thing?" You said, mocking him to the best of your abilities.

"First of all I don't fucking sound like that," he laughed and squinted at you "second, just stressed about life, nothing in particular." 

You softly chuckled at his reaction. His eyes broke from yours, looking at some papers on his desk. Your eyes, however, never left his frame. You could stare at him for eternity, everything about his face seemed so perfect, almost as if it were meant to be admired.

You soon realized your staring and quickly averted your gaze towards the window again.

"You gonna go to the Yule ball this year?" You broke the silence, you knew Mattheo hated those things, he hated having to be around a shit ton of people and act like he enjoyed their company.

"Probably not." His demeanor changed, his tone became short, almost snappy.

"Oh, I'm probably just gonna go with Becca." You mumbled, knowing that if no guy was to ask you, Becca had your back.

"Hm." He nearly laughed at your remark.

"What? What's so funny?" You asked, looking back at him, his back still facing you.

"Just surprised you aren't going with a random slytherin guy or something." He answered, but the way he had said it has a strange undertone that you weren't sure how to feel about.

"Well I mean I don't know, I haven't been asked yet." You stated truthfully.

"Ah, I see." He murmured, soon after taking another drag of his cigarette.

You felt tension building in the room, suffocating tension. You weighed your options out, but you decided it would be better to give Mattheo some space, for what you were unsure of.

"Well, Becca and Emma told me they wanted to go dress shopping earlier so I think I'm gonna head over there so we can solidify our plans." You announced while picking up your books and putting them in your bag. 

"Bye Mattheo." You said while walking out of his dorm, expecting a response.

You shut the door when you got nothing, you mind raced with the possibilities on what could've caused mattheos strange behavior.

Maybe he'd just had an off day? No that couldnt have been it, he was fine moments before his attitude took a turn. 

Perhaps he was just having mood swings, you wouldn't be surprised with all the trash he puts in his body.

You stuck with that story and walked back to your dorm, which was on the other side of the slytherin tower. 

You reached it, setting your things down, then quickly turned around and nearly raced to your friends dorm.

The second you reached it, You waisted no time to jump on her bed, causing her to jump. 

"Yes, of course you can come into my room unannounced and lay on my bed." Becca said sarcastically. She had been digging through her closet in an attempt to find a dress. 

"Sorry, I just need to vent." You said while propping yourself up on your elbows.

"Go ahead." She sighed and laid her body weight 

"Okay so, there's this guy. He's like my best friend, but.."

She raised her eyes brows, signaling you to continue.

"But I want us to be more, or atleast I see him as more than a friend. I just feel like no matter how hard I try I can't get him to open up, he just.. won't."  You groaned.

"And everytime I get this sliver of hope that I've made progress, he just completely shuts down, leaving me in the dark confused and a little bit heartbroken!" You borderline screamed, your face shoved into her mattress.

"Okay, uh, let's calm down. If he's not showing any signs of being interested maybe you should just, move on- well attempt to at least." Becca stated ,rubbing your back.

You shut your eyes, truly taking in your friends words.  “hey Yknow what will make you feel better?” She nearly jumped with excitement. “Going to look for a dress in town.”

You knew she only had good intentions but the words kept echoing through your head. The thought of keeping Mattheo as a friend hurt, but it seemed to be all you could do at this point without ruining your friendship.

Maybe she was right.

Maybe you needed to accept Mattheo 

was just a friend.

-

All you could think about was the Yule ball. Over the next few weeks the days flew by, the anticipation growing larger with each one passing.

Of course you had been asked by some sweet guy from the Ravenclaw house, and, taking Becca's advice, you said yes.

There was nothing wrong with him, he just..he wasn't him.

You had decided to get ready alone, slipping into a beautiful green dress you and Becca had picked out. You finished your hair and makeup, looking into your vanity mirror.

You felt beautiful.

You smiled softly at how well you had dolled yourself up.

Glancing up at the clock, you rushed out of your dorm room, realizing it was the time you and your date had agreed to meet at the entrance by. 

You walked gracefully through the halls, a large smile adorning your face. Your heels tapped softly against the ground. You neared the entrance, your breath becoming shallow from the nerves. 

Then you saw Becca, she was wearing a beautiful Maroon dress. She looked absolutely breath taking.

"Hey!— oh my gosh." Becca looked at you, her jaw dropping. 

"You look stunning! Like some type of goddess...." She said barely above a whisper.

"Becca! Stop, you can't be talking, I forgot how to breathe the moment I saw you." You hugged her.

You were about to continue praising her and her beauty, but before you could comment you heard someone call your name.

"Y/n..wow.." he said, just loud enough for you to hear.

You turned around to see your date, who was wearing a very clean red and black suit. 

"Oh my gosh hi! Sorry for being a tad late, I lost track of time while getting ready!" You made your way next to your date, not before Becca gave you a sly smile and a push, leaving to go with her specimen she had chose for the night 

"It's okay.., you look amazing." He had said, taking your arm into his. He began to lead you into the ballroom.

"Thank you, I must say, you cleaned up nice." You smiled sweetly at him.

You and him entered the large room full of people, everything was elegant and royal, not a single speck of dust on anything.

You looked around the large room as your date led you down the stairs, you couldn't lie, you felt like a princess. The beautiful architecture of the room, complimented by your stunning dress, felt like something straight out of a fairy tale.

Once you had made it to the bottom of the staircase, you excused yourself away from your date in an attempt to go find Becca again. 

You stumbled past groups of people, many of them were couples having a romantic moment. 

You tried your best not to run into anybody, you dodged dancing bodies and nearly jogged across the dance floor.

You almost missed him.

You almost walked right by him.

You almost could've saved yourself the heartbreak.

But no you saw it—him with some random Hufflepuff girl. 

The way he whispered in her ear, the way she giggled a little too sweetly, everything. 

It all made you wanna cry—or throw up, which one that would be you weren't quite sure about yet. 

"Y/n?" Theodore came beside you and patted your back.

"Theo-Theodore, I thought Mattheo wasn't coming to the dance?" You struggled to get your words out as your eyes darted between the scene before you and Theodore. 

"Oh—uh yeah, he wasn't gonna originally, but some girl asked him and I guess he took a liking to her because usually he just brushes everyone off." Theo answered.

"Oh, I see, I just came to say hello. I'll be on my way now." Before Theodore could argue with your strange behavior you turned your back and walked as quickly as you could back to were your date was. 

You abandoned the idea of going to find Becca, you couldn't accidentally run into Mattheo and his.. friend again.

Instead you decided that distracting yourself with your date would be the best thing for your heart at the moment.

"Hey, sorry , I just saw a friend and got distracted." You said, out of breath.

"Oh. Don't even sweat it, I'm just glad you didn't run away and not come back." He joked, dragging you towards the dance floor. You couldn't help but laugh at his bubbly personality. It was a nice change of speed.

"I hope you like to dance." His hands fell onto your hips, yours made their way to his shoulders.

"I actually hate it." You smiled at him. 

"How unfortunate." Your smile grew when he matched your energy. You nearly forgot what you had seen a couple moments ago.

But alas, you didn't.

You could feel your chest tightening up, the tears bordering you waterline. Just thinking about him touching that girl in any way made you want to breakdown.

"Ex.—excuse me." You tried to excuse yourself as politely as you could. 

You didn't want your date too see you like this, vulnerable, heartbroken.

You urgently walked towards any door in your line of sight. When you finally found one, you ran through it. 

You just couldn't escape him, no matter how hard you tried. He was at every single corner you turned.

You nearly groaned when you saw him propped up over the balcony, smoking of course. 

He hasn't seemed to notice you, still looking out at the stars. 

You couldn't do it anymore, you couldn't spend one more fucking second acting like you weren't in love with him. 

The sad part was you'd rather be his friend than him hate you and be nothing at all. As long as he thought about you, you'd be okay. 

That's what you had been telling yourself, but you couldn't hold onto that lie anymore. 

"Mattheo." You croaked out behind him.

His head shot to the side, looking you dead in the eyes. 

"Angel… what're you doing out here."  He looked back out to the stars, unable to make eye contact. 

"I can't do it anymore."  You said shakily.

He turned his full body around this time, his eyes a dark brown. He blew the smoke out of his mouth, the wind pushing it in the opposite direction.

"I can't keep pretending I don't feel this way.., do you know how hard it was to watch you talk to that girl?" You nearly cried out.

"All the girls you fuck with and then bring them to shit like this, I cant keep lying to myself —wishing that it was me instead of her."

You were on the brink of gasping for air, your head pounded. You couldn't believe you had suppressed these emotions for so long. Every single time you went to Mattheo's dorm, you could barely restrain yourself from kissing him. 

Before you could continue on with your speech 

Mattheo had forced you against the wall. 

His lips met yours in a harsh collision. In an almost immediate reaction, your body responded to his actions, kissing him back with just as much need and hurry.

"You don't get to fucking do that."  He pulled back from your lips, still making sure to keep his face mere inches from yours.

"Every single day, I'd sit there and watch you talk to this new guy, I couldn't do shit about it— I wouldn't let myself do shit about it."

“I knew you deserved so much better than some lousy asshole like me, angel.” His hand held a firm grip on your hips, his other still had its place on the stone wall. 

"It took everything in me not to punch that fucker in the face when I saw him look at you, but I knew you wouldn't want that." You melted beneath his gaze.

His kisses trailed down your jawline.

"During second year, when I went to the dance, I saw you there with Draco, I nearly killed him right after. I couldn't bear to see you with anyone other than myself.. so I wouldn't go, I knew I wouldn't be able to handle it so I never went to another ball again." He gently caressed your cheek with his thumb.

"Until this year." He mumbled softly in between the kisses he was leaving on your neck.

He brought his face back up to yours, his eyes stormy and clouded with something darker than just simple need.

"What'd he say to you? What did he call you?" Mattheo asked with a dark shimmer in his eyes, one you were hoping was just from the moon.

You swallowed harshly, you hadn't realized how dry your mouth truly was. 

"He just said I looked nice—" 

"Nice? You look fucking ravishing. I've never met a girl as beautiful as you, never once in my life seen a girl who could compare anywhere near you...That's why I call you angel you know...,because even if an angel walked by, my eyes would still be glued on you."

His gentle voice tickled your ears, and your cheeks warmed up beneath him.

"You are my angel."

He kissed you again, only this time it was more gentle. His lips held no rush, they were soft and comforting. 

You were the one to pull back this time, smiling sweetly up at him. He pulled you from against the wall, leaving the two of you in the center of the balcony, under the sparkling stars.

"I can't believe we've been friends all these years, and neither of us made a move."

He spun you around under the moon light, the beautiful sky knocking the breath out of you.

"Hey matty..?”You whispered once he had began to hold you in his arms gently.

"Yes angel?" He matched your tone, the sweet nickname you gave him made his chest tighten up.

"I love you." You closed your eyes, shutting them slowly.

"I love you... I always thought I'd never be the type to say that so freely, guess I just needed to meet the right person." He swayed the two of you lightly, finding a rhythm in the midnight winds. 

"Of course it's you... 

It's always been you."

[jules2kewl]

A different path.

COWBOY SEVIKA AU.

Tags: sevika works in a ranch, reader is married, artist reader, sevika and reader are neighbors, eventual smut, sevika cowboy au, chubby reader, sevika x female reader.

Word count: 9k but it lowkey feels less.

Part: 1/?

Part two click here

Note: I put a lot of effort into this lwkkk. I really hope you guys enjoy it. <3

Growing up, you were convinced that art was your future. It was what you were born to do. To create. To show your passion to the world.

Here you are, in a beat up pick up truck, with your now husband.

—

Flashback.

You met him in college. He was a frat boy.

“So.. what’s your major?”

You ask, smiling while tracing the rim of the red cup.

“Uhhh.. don’t remember. I’m not really here for like.. the education. Kinda here for the experience you know? This is the fucking life.”

Maybe there, you should ended it. You should’ve dodged the bullet. But you after a couple social pressure from the people around you, and other students degrading your major, here you are. Married away to a southern boy. On your way to the south. You grew up in a sort of suburb city place. It was in between the south and north, so you somewhat understood some culture.

But forgetting your dreams were extremely hard. But hey, you chose this life. No point in complaining.

—

“Whyd you want to bring all these dumbass paintings? They take up half the fucking space.”

He tosses the canvases to the ground, you wince and rush to them.

“They’re special to me,”

You mutter. As if you were embarrassed to say so.

You both unpack, the place was.. okay. It was spacious, and vintage looking. But not exactly the pretty type. Just old. You both moved down here because he took the offer of working with his other family in the ranch. Apparently they were all red necks, which made you.. scared.

“We’re gonna go down to my grandmas place. Dress nice.”

He says, plainly. You go to your luggage and take out your favorite outfit. You wore it throughout college. Fun.

“Hell are ye wearin’?”

He scoffed.

“Clothes,”

You tease, smiling. Except he didn’t smile. Just looking up and down, judging. Quickly erasing your smile.

“Go wear a dress or somethin’,”

He pauses.

“Look pretty for me.”

You listen. You obey. Changing into a dress. You hated how it looked, you looked like a house wife. And slowly, you’d probably become one.

When you meet his other family, they give snarky comments.

“You majored in art?”

The two girls look at eachother, smiling. Trying to hold back giggles.

“No! We think it’s like— cute. Atleast you chose a better path in the end.”

Bye the end of it, you wanted to cry. But ..

“What’s for dinner, hm?”

He clings onto you from behind, as you try to finish unpacking clothes.

“Dinner? We haven’t even filled up the fridge,”

You frown slightly. He groans.

“Seriously? What’re we gonna eat?”

He complains, pulling away.

“I don’t know.. order something or whatever.”

Pause.

He laughs loudly.

“Oh okay, I’ll just ORDER something in the middle of no where. I seriously forget yer fuckin’ spoiled.”

He pinched your ass and laughs again.

“Make something, I’ll be back. Headin’ down to meet some old friends.”

He gives it a slap and leaves. You stare out the window. You weren’t the best at cooking. Maybe you were spoiled. So you should get to work.

2 weeks later. You start getting better.. at whatever this was.

Packing his food, making the bed, cleaning the house, planning dinner and.. doing nothing, all at once.

When you finish, you stare out the window. Why did you pick this? No, it’s okay. You had to settle down. Art wasn’t going to take you anywhere. It was stupid. You chose this. Live with it.

You convinced yourself.

Flashback.

You both lay on a roof, he smokes while you ramble on about a book you read for art literature. You had to write an essay about it.

“Can I ask you somethin’?”

He lifts the cigar from his lips.

“Yeah?” You say eagerly, expecting it to be about the book.

“Why do girls think.. they can do something? Like, chose an art major. It’s kinda stupid,”

He laughs hoarsely.

“It’s not really gonna get you somewhere. I have a little sister, she did art. Now shes a waitress,”

You go quiet.

That week, you kept thinking. Everyone told you that. Even some of your other college friends. Was it worth it? It was so expensive, and burdening your mom…

This was the right choice. He’ll keep you under a roof. Protect you. Provide for you. It’s okay.

You see a red pick up truck pass your house, and you see it drive to your neighbors house. You didn’t realize you even had one. You stand up eagerly, but anxiety creeps up on you.

What, were you going to go introduce yourself or something? That’s stupid. Only a thing movie people do.. but you haven’t talked to someone since you moved here.. maybe it’d be nice if—

Your thoughts are cut short when you see them.

Tall, strong frame, short hair. You see their back. Is that a girl? You try moving to see them better. It was a girl!

You squeal, then clap your hand to your mouth. Why’d you do that? Whatever! It’s a girl! She could be your friend.

Later. You cute a slice from your lasagna. Lasagna was your comfort food. So you made it. You start worrying if it was good enough to offer it to people. Whatever, go and do it.

You walk down to her house. Standing there and taking deep breaths, before knocking.

You wait, sweat staring to bead on your forehead.

After a hot minute, you wonder if she didn’t want to answer. You decide to leave the plate, before she opens.

“Hello?”

She’s bigger than from afar. Your cheeks flush in embarrassment. Shit, what do you say now?

“Uh— hhh…”

You try finding it.

“Hi. I’m.. your new neighbor.”

You put your hand out after saying your name. Mentally slapping the shit out of yourself. She probably wants to be left alone. This was stupid. Do people in the south even say hi to neighbors? God!

She smiles.

“Why hello. It’s sevika. You moved in with your husband eh?”

She tilts her head. Shaking your hand. Her hand was heavy and rough. It scared you a little.

“Uhm, yeah. That’s right.”

“You wanna come in?”

You smile, but try not to smile too hard.

“If that’s not a bother,”

“Oh no, never. Come on in.”

You go in, looking around. Leather couches, small little paintings, wooden carvings and taxidermy’s everywhere. This was so fucking southern. You loved it.

“It’s nice in here.”

You smile. Feeling relived to finally talk to someone.

“Thanks sweetie. Take a seat. You want somethin’? Water, tea, maybe a beer?”

She smiles. You see her tooth gap. How adorable!

“I’m okay, but thank you.”

You smile. It reeked like cigarettes and something else strong. It hurt your head, but it shouldn’t matter.

“Why’d you move down here? You don’t look like the rest of us.”

You tilt your head.

“What do you mean?”

She leans against her counter, picking up her cigarette from the tray.

“Look at the way you’re dressed.”

You look down. You just wore a t shirt and random shorts. You didn’t see anything wrong. Then you see one of your tattoos, your expressive jewelry and your shoes. Well, maybe something gave it out? You’re not sure.

“Uhm, my husband and me moved down here.”

She takes a hit and blows out through her nostrils.

“Yeah? Why’s that?”

You pause.

“For his work. He works at the ranch.”

She looks at you.

“You mean the frat kid?”

You perk up. Frat? How did she know he was a frat boy?

“How did—“

“He acts like one. I just guessed. Always wanting to invite everyone for a drink after work. Doesn’t take it seriously,”

She puts the cigar down.

“So you work there?”

She nods.

“That would’ve surprised him,”

You smile. But she doesn’t. Giving you a slight judging look. You get hot and your smile goes away. Did she not like you?

“It did. He didn’t expect a woman to work there. But here I am.”

You tap your knee nervously. Not knowing what to say.

“What did you do? Before you became his house wife.”

“Oh no— I’m not his house wife.”

You smile and laugh.

“Really? You don’t leave the house do you?”

Your smile fades again. Did she hate you or something?

“I do.”

You lie. She chuckles.

“Yeah? When?”

You start thinking of a lie, but she chuckles again.

“It’s alright sweetie, I’m just askin’. Don’t worry your little head about it.”

You let out a breath you didn’t think you were holding in.

“I did art. Painted, wrote, all of that.. stuff.”

You start reminiscing. All the beautiful art work you did. Now hidden in the dusty attic.

“Did? You stopped?”

She picks up her cigar, tapping the ash off.

You shrug.

“Is that a yes or no?”

You look up at her.

“I guess I stopped. I don’t have the material anymore.”

There’s a long pause. It feels awkward, for you atleast. She didn’t seem bothered by it.

The lasagna in your lap felt stupid.

“What’s that?”

She points at it.

“Lasagna. I kinda brought it for you but..”

“But what?”

She smiles.

“I don’t think you want it.”

“What? Hey. Give it to me. I could never give up free food.”

You stand up and pass her the plate.

“I’ll eat it later.”

Pause. Again.

You look out the window.

“Uhm, thanks.”

She chuckles.

“For what?”

“Talking to me? Inviting me in.. thanks. I’m going to head home. Maybe I can talk to you another day?”

She nods.

You walk home. It felt good to talk to someone, although it felt like she judged you most of the time. Maybe you were overthinking it. Maybe you two could become close.

Thanks for reading luv. 💋

[skipper1331]

Is it too late to make things right? // Grace Clinton

a/n: based off this request. Hope you enjoy it!

Everything Grace Clinton did, made you furious.

It didn’t matter if it was the way she talked, laughed or played - even just her breathing, blinking or existing made you more than angry.

You hated Grace Clinton with a passion and no, not without any reason, as everybody always said.

"Don’t be so rude to Gracie, she did nothing wrong"

"Can‘t you be nice to her for once?"

"It‘s her debut show some respect"

You hated Grace Clinton for what she did to you and the way she had humiliated you.

But in fact, you respected her debut, she played phenomenally but obviously you didn’t tell her that - you didn’t talk to her at all.

After the game, you walked to the changing room, not looking at the midfielder or giving her congratulations for her game.

"What the fuck is your problem?" the voice of Alessia shrilled through the hall.

"Are you talking to me?" you asked dumbfounded, confused on what the problem was.

"Who else?"

Shrugging your shoulders, you looked at her. "Come on, out of everybody you were the first one to flee the scene"

"and apparently, you the second one, hm?" you cut her off, "Alessia, say what you want to say or leave me alone" you stated firmly, even though you already knew what the problem was: Grace Clinton.

Taken back from your firm voice and the use of Alessia instead of Less made her crumble under your gaze - you loved nicknames, you rarely called people by their actual name.

"What is your problem with Grace?" she asked anyways.

"I don’t have a problem with Clinton"

There it was - Clinton, it clearly showed your disliking.

Alessia knew you well enough to know that that was a lie, not only because you were a terrible liar but the Clinton gave it away. If Lessi had to describe you, she would say "When she calls you by a nickname, she loves you - you’re her friend. When she calls you by your actual name, she a) doesn’t know you yet or b) the situation is serious. When you get called by your surname, there is a problem."

"Didn’t think you’d be a liar" she replied, slowly getting annoyed at your behavior. Grace was like a little sister to her, she had to be protected at all costs.

"And I don’t think I have asked for your opinion"

With that you turned back around and continued your walk to the changing room.

"Ever since Grace is here you’re an absolute ass!" the blonde yelled after you.

-

You avoided Alessia, and Grace even more after your encounter with the blonde. Out of everyone, you didn’t expect Alessia to be rude to you. Not only because she‘s a sunshine herself but because she‘s your club teammate too. But it’s about Clinton, of course she would protect her.

What Alessia didn’t know was that her sweet Gracie was an ass herself, rude and mean.

-

"Hey"

You looked up from your book, seeing Less in front of you, before taking a seat beside you.

"Can I help you?" you asked, turning the page in your book, focusing on the words there.

The striker sighed, thinking about what to say - she stayed silent.

"I‘m not in the mood for being yelled at again, so with all respect, please leave me alone"

"I‘m sorry for my outburst" she apologized, "I’m just trying to understand what the problem is.."

This time it was you who sighed, closing the book, "Less, I don’t want to be rude, but it‘s none of your business. Gracie is not the person she used to be and neither am I. We play for the same country and that‘s it" you stood up from your seat, intending to leave - running away.

Alessia was shocked, not about the part where you said it’s none of her business - she knew you were right - you didn’t call the current Tottenham player Clinton but Gracie. You could have chosen anything yet you said Gracie, a nickname.

"What happened between the two of you?" Her hand on your arm stopped you, Lessi‘s voice caring.

On clue, said person came into view, locking eyes with you.

"We grew apart"

It was the longest eye contact you had with her since what? maybe years. Familiar feelings rummaged through your body - looking into the eyes you once loved so dearly.

Anger was displayed on her face, marching over as she purposely and aggressively bumped into you, "watch where you‘re going" she spat which you only ignored.

"What the fuck, Alessia" the midfielder growled, pulling her somewhere more private.

"Why are you talking to her about me!"

"Grace-"

"No, Alessia! This is absolutely none of your fucking business. She broke up with me years ago, so let her be!"

"Who broke up with whom?" The noisy voice of Ella chipped in. The place Grace chose wasn‘t as private as she had thought.

"Y/n was your girlfriend?"

The young lioness inhaled, closing her eyes for a brief moment, "no.. she ended things before I could ask her."

"Why?" Tooney asked as the best friends shared a look.

"We should go on a walk" the blonde striker then proposed, to which Grace surprisingly agreed. The topic had been bothering her for years, not knowing what she had done wrong, that you didn't want anything to do with her anymore. From one day to the next you ignored her, stopped talking to her - didn't even look at her. What had she done wrong? Her heart still breaks when she thinks back to the evening when everything went downhill. She wanted to ask you that night if you would like to be her girlfriend. You had danced around your feelings quite a while, even though you both knew there was something there - the stolen kisses, the sneaky touches, the love letters - but you broke her heart before she could ask you, even though the real reason was that she had broken your heart first.

"Why haven’t you talked to us?" Lessi asked as the three of them walked outside of the facility in Spain.

Shrugging her shoulders, "there was never a reason to" she replied, "we never played at the same club, so it was easy for her to avoid me, same goes with the call up - she got hers earlier, so we didn’t see each other at camps either"

"How do you feel now? Seeing her?" this time it was Ella who asked.

"I‘m being rude to her. And I know that‘s not right, but it‘s- I don’t even know, unspoken anger I guess, because she just broke my heart and because that‘s the only attention I will get from her…"

"You loved her, didn’t you?"

"I do"

"Do?"

"Did? Have? Do? I don’t know" she mumbled, "how could I not? You know her, she‘s more than incredible"

Years later, Grace still wasn’t over you, being near you made it clear. She couldn’t get over the things she felt for you. You were the first girl she‘s kind of been with. You were her first love story and her first love.

Putting her feelings aside, busying herself with work didn’t heal her, it just made her feelings more intense as they came crashing down now.

"Have you ever tried talking to her?"

"Of course! I asked her so many times what I did wrong, she never answered me" she sighed.

Alessia and Ella had never seen their friend so vulnerable and tired. Her facade had dropped, she deeply cared about you yet all the unanswered questions turned into anger - she just didn’t know how to deal with her feelings and the struggle of not having you in her life.

She missed you.

-

To say that Ella and Alessia saw you differently now was only partly correct. Both of them had many questions, what did happen? What was the reason you ended things before they even started? Has Grace done something wrong? But most importantly: Was there a way to make amends?

It was the next day after training when the best friends decided to take matters into their own hands. You two had to sort things out. The rudeness started getting more and more while the tension grew thicker each second. To be fair, it didn’t affect either of your or the teams playing performance as you kept things professional on the pitch yet off the pitch both of you acted like angry toddlers towards each other.

"We need to do something" Ella huffed at Alessia, both of them watching you growling at Grace.

"Do what? Lock them in a room??" Alessia intended to joke which the midfielder took seriously. "That‘s an awesome idea!", pulling the girl towards Mary - they definitely needed her help.

And when Mary was introduced to the idea, the three, so called master minds, came up with a perfect plan.

-

"Grace, wanna play darts?" Ella asked the young lioness, grinning.

"Um, maybe later" asked person replied as she relaxed on one of the bean bags in the 'movie' room.

"Are you afraid you‘ll loose?" Tooney challenged - she knew Grace could never back down a challenge and not even the slightest when it was something as simple as darts. It can’t be that hard to throw a dart, can it?

Meanwhile Mary asked you the exact same, the only difference that you agreed in an instant, darts something you loved to play in camps.

Walking to the 'game' room of the facility - a room with darts, pool and table football - the gk and you talked about the last upcoming friendly.

Arriving in the room, "I forgot my lucky dart!" Mary suddenly stated, leaving the room quickly, "I’m back in a moment" she called.

Not thinking anything about it, you waited for her to come back.

She didn’t.

In fact, when the door opened again, someone stumbled into the room before the door was quickly locked.

"Ella?!"

"Sorry for pushing you!" the man united player answered behind the closed door.

"Why are you locking me in this room?"

"Turn around" you answered.

The current Tottenham player jumped, "don‘t scare me like that!" her hand clutching over her heart, trying to calm down.

"You have to sort things out" Alessia joined the conversation.

"We can play darts after that" Mary added.

"We‘ll be back in an hour"

You grumbled under your breath, marching away from Grace who stood in front of the door hoping it would open magically.

"I guess, we have to talk if we want to leave this room today" Grace said after 10 minutes of an awkward silence.

"No thanks" you responded nonchalantly. You didn‘t want to talk to Grace ever again unless it was work related.

"Come on, don’t be so stubborn" the midfielder slowly walked towards you sitting on the pool table.

"Grow up, Clinton"

"I grew up while we grew apart" she mocked your words - words that hadn’t left her mind ever since you said them. What did you even mean by that? You haven’t grown apart - you ended things out of nowhere!

"Clinton, leave me alone"

That was the last straw, "can you fucking stop with the Clinton?!" she snapped, stepping right in front of you. She hated it. Yes, it was her surname and she loved to see it on the back of jerseys but she hated it when you called her that. What happened to Gracie? Lovely girl? Or love?

"Get a grip, Clinton"

There was no point in making an effort - you wouldn’t talk, you‘ve made that very clear.

Grace walked to the other side of the room, sitting down on the little bench that was the next to the dartboard.

She felt helpless. And even though she was in the same room, it felt like the two of you were oceans apart.

The silence was deafening.

You didn’t mind that - as long as Grace was shutting her mouth, you‘d be fine with everything.

Grace did mind it - it made her anxious. She was closer to you than she had been in years. This was her opportunity to find out what she did wrong and what the reason was that you hated her now. What happened to being friends? Secret Lovers? What’s happened to the chance of being together forever?

"Y/n/n, please" the young lioness almost whispered. You froze, you hadn’t heard that one in years - the midfielder, the only one who ever used that nickname.

"Just answer one question and I promise you to never talk to you again off pitch"

"You better keep that promise" you said firmly, turning around as the Tottenham player jumped up, walking towards you.

Leaning against the table football, she thought about her questions - which would be the best to ask.

"What did I do wrong?" It was the most obvious question to ask but maybe the answer would finally give Grace some inner peace.

"Seriously? Of all the questions you could have asked, you chose one where you already know the answer-"

"But I don‘t! I don’t know anything! Out of nowhere you cut me off! Pretending I don’t exist!"

"You don‘t exist to me anymore" you stated rather calmly while Grace was gesticulating wildly, frown and the wrinkle between her brows deepening.

"How can you say that?! I used to be important to you"

Lowly, you empathized "Used to" which was only partly true. Parts of your heart always yearned for Grace, hoping she was doing well and achieving all of her dreams.

A part of you still loved Grace Clinton, and forever will.

"Just- just answer the question, please"

"You humiliated me, Grace, you humiliated me in the worst way you ever could."

"How? I‘m so in love with you, i would never dream of upsetting you in any way."

You laughed, clapping your hands, "You‘re funny"

"What‘s wrong with you?!"

"What’s wrong with me? What’s wrong with you?" You felt yourself getting angry, starting to match her furios energy. As if Grace didn‘t know what she had done - what sick game was she playing?

"You humiliated me, Grace, that’s what wrong. How could you? I thought- i thought you liked me. At least enough to keep private things private and not to read them out loud in the fucking locker room!" your voice took many changes in that short statement. It started off calm, before it turned sad, almost vulnerable as the last part was full of venom.

The midfielder froze on the spot, arms falling to her sides as she realized what the problem had been years ago and still was.

The unknown feeling exposed now, flashbacks crossing her mind from that day, "the letters" left her mouth, eyes wide. How could it be that she hadn't thought of this sooner? Now everything made sense! Your anger and hostility towards her, the abrupt break in contact. The world was no longer your enemy, your only enemy was someone you believed would never break your heart. A someone that had promised you to fight with you against the world but instead, she had weakened you so much that you no longer had the strength to do so - your last strength was directed against her.

"Exactly. I‘ve heard what you said, Grace. And the worst part? You didn’t even read them. Our friend read them out loud and you laughed about them, telling the whole locker room that i was weirdly obsessed with you 'Nah. I don‘t stand her - she follows me around like a lost puppy. I don‘t even like girls' I remember everything, word for word, Clinton"

Your eyes turned glossy, you never healed from that humiliation.

"Listen to me-"

"No, you will listen to me." you growled, your voice was so full of anger, stepping towards her to intimidate her, "stay away from me"

Grace was breathing heavily, her eyes darting around your face - you were so close to her.

Not in control of her soul, mind or body, Grace smashed her lips against yours, hands gripping your hips as she pulled you close.

You couldn’t even register what was happening before your body responded in kissing her back - matching her energy.

The kiss was nothing like the kisses you shared before - it was feisty, all anger purred into this one kiss.

Yet it felt so good, your heart felt peace, an old familiar feeling you only ever felt when you were with the lioness. The walls you had built around it were gone. So even though Gracie was the reason why you had built them in the first place, she was now the reason why they collapsed.

When you slowly came to your senses, you pushed her away, lips swollen from kissing each other, feeling dizzy at the intensity and the feeling of happiness it had given you.

"I‘m sorry-"

"A sorry won‘t fix anything!" you shouted. You were so confused.

It was the first time where you ever had raised your voice at Grace. You didn’t mean the kiss but the girl knew exactly what you were referring to. And even though, you didn‘t like shouting or yelling in general, let alone at someone like Gracie, you defended yourself with that - an apology wouldn’t fix anything nor would a kiss.

"Sorry, I didn’t mean to raise my voice" you said, not liking a shouting atmosphere or the sad look in Grace‘s eyes.

"It‘s okay" the midfielder breathed out shakily, "you know, all of your love notes are in my wallet. I read them at least once a day" she admitted, staring at the floor, not being able to trust her voice if she would look you in the eye, "It was stupid to think that I didn‘t know what I have done wrong while it was in fact right in front of me. I broke your heart the day you broke mine." taking a deep breath, she sorted her thoughts, "I have no right to ask for your forgiveness, all I want to do is give you an explanation."

You nodded slightly - you always wanted an explanation but instead of confronting the girl that day, you ran away, protecting yourself more and more over the years.

"One of the girls found your letters in my bag when they searched for something, I don’t even remember what. She read them out loud while I was on the other side of the locker room talking to your friend. I asked her, if I had her blessing to ask you to be my girlfriend. I knew how important it was to you and since she was the only who knew about us, that was the least I could do. We never talked about telling our teammates, so when she read the letters, I panicked. I panicked because I didn‘t want to be outed by someone else. I also panicked because I didn’t know if you‘d be okay with me admitting our- my love for you. I got so scared in that moment, that my self-protection mechanism answered before I could even reflect the situation. It felt like a stranger was controlling me. And you‘re right, 'sorry' won‘t fix anything but I want you to know that it was never my intention to break your heart. I meant it when I said that I want you to be mine forever. I have always loved you and I don’t think, that I will ever love someone who isn‘t you. So, even though it won‘t fix anything; I sincerely want to apologize. I‘m proud of you and the footballer you became - I will always be your number one fan"

Throughout her explanation, three things remained in your mind,

1. I don’t think I will ever love someone else - did that mean she still loved you?

2. Strangely, you believed every word she said. Grace had never lied to you - she was a terrible liar anyways.

3. Ask you to be my girlfriend - she wanted to make things official..?

"I did. I wanted you to be my girlfriend the second you smiled at me. I remember your shy smile, the way you looked everywhere, only briefly stopping at me." she chuckled, a love sick smile on her face.

"I thought I said that only in my head" you mumbled, cheeks turning red.

As Grace took a step closer, her hands cupping your cheeks, so you would look at her instead of the floor. "I never wanted to be your enemy" she whispered, her lips pressing tenderly against your forehead - a confession and a promise.

In that moment, both of you realized that maybe it wasn‘t too late to make things right. But it would take time and patience for you to learn how to love and trust each other again.

[rain-soaked-sun]

To hold him close

Cw: Sunday x reader fluff, religious imagery,thoughts of self doubt, hurt/comfort . Their bedroom has a private dressing you off the side, connecting to their bathroom WK 650 Gn , please let me know if I mention gender!

⊹︶︶︶ ⊹ ︶︶︶ ୨♡୧ ︶︶︶ ⊹ ︶︶︶⊹

Sunday often wonders how someone as pure as you can stand or even love a sinner such as him

It will continue to boggle him for the rest of his days. He will never understand your patience for him. He can't see you all the time because of his work, his odd habits make it hard for even the most understanding people to take. He can be snappy at you for no reason ,and yet, you love him all the same

He sees himself as an undeserving devotee in your presence, constantly gifted by his god, you. Vying for your continued love and praise as undeserving it is, doing all he can to make you never leave , to reassure you that your love isn't misplaced. Perhaps it stems from his upbringing that he had to work hard to earn your approval and love. Though,you would give it out to him for free

It's not like you would ever leave, you don't understand his feeling that he doesn't deserve love like anyone else. You treasure him more than the stars in the sky,and sometimes he understands that , one day he will never question your loyalty again but for now you will remind him as much as you have to

“My dove? Are you in your dressing room?” Sunday called from your bedroom. You chirped a response before he entered .

“Ah,there you are “, he leaned over you slightly, his hands resting on your shoulders, idly rubbing circles into them. He stared at the reflection of you two in the vanity bathroom briefly before pressing his head into the crook of neck and pressed featherlight kisses down to your shoulder

You recognized his patterns by now, you recognized the stiff rigid twitches of his wings. you could see the fatigue lying behind his smile, the circles under his eyes . You worried for him as any lover would and made up your mind to take care of him. Even for the night it would do him good to relax

“Sunday?” You said softly, a soothing hand running through his hair,”Hm? What is it?” His face still buried in your neck.

“When was the last time you got to truly relax, you seem so tired. I worry for you, you know this. Don't you?”You felt a faint smile against your skin,”Don't fret over me, I'm fine I promise you. It's just a little extra work-” he looked up from your neck and could see your face, he hated that expression, it seems he could never lie to you. He huffed lightly,his shoulders sagging ,”It will be done soon , please don't look so upset , it hurts my heart. What can I do?”

“It's not what you can do for me Sunday. You give too much to everyone else and have nothing left for yourself , you work yourself till you're dead tired , like now.” You looked directly at him now, he felt seen under your gaze, how could you read him so well he always wondered. “Let me take care of you, please?”

“That's not necessary-” You silenced him with a kiss. He melted into your lips and he knew you had won , he would fall into your embrace for tonight and go work again tomorrow , he assured himself You pulled back with a satisfied smile ,”Come , first you will change into something comfortable, and then we will relax in bed for the rest of the night, perhaps have a maid bring us some food?” You said fondly , getting up from the vanity chair and led him out of the small dressing room into the main suite

“Whatever you say my dear I will do . You ask for the maid and tell her I would like some filled puffs and whatever you want, and I will change . Is that alright? " He said with a lazy smile, affection lining every word .

“That would be perfect”

[misojunnie]

DELICATE ─ psh. ☆ (teaser)

does love ever cross the line?

# genre: rich kid!enemy!sunghoon x fem!reader, forbidden love, enemies to lovers, slow burn, family feud, non idol au

# warnings: substances, lots of pining/angst, cursing, insults, mature jokes, implied sex, I have no idea how businesses work plz don’t roast me

# featuring: sunghoon & enha! + le sserafim

# playlist: delicate by taylor swift, take care by beach house, love by kendrick lamar, babydoll by dominic fike, hurts so good by astrid s

# a/n: hi y’all! I got this request a long time ago and only recently got to it, so I hope y’all like! lmk if u want to be added to the taglist! pls enjoy <3

# word count: 13.2k

# taglist: @lovialy @minniejenseo @powerpuffstuts @mnxnii @idkdykilr @ionlyreadforfanfics @heelovesmeknot @100520s @simjyunnie @scrumptiousloser @eneiyri @pinkkami @milkycloudtyg @enhypenlovre @pinkkami @m3chigo @saythenameseventeen178 @desistay @capri-cuntz.@taerifin open!

# unable to tag: @hohohobo

this was written upon anon request; check it out here!

when your father’s company cratered after a faulty business deal, a vendetta was formed between your family and the biggest export company in south korea. but that rivalry begins to falter when you fall in love with the ceo’s son.

[more under the cut!]

˗ˋ☆ˊ˗

Awards banquets were Sunghoon’s least favorite part of being in business. Forget the ruthlessness and backstabbing, dressing up in a suit and pretending to be successful blew all that warfare out of the water.

“It’s too tight.”

“It’s fine. You’ll be fine. Just stop complaining.”

“I’m not kidding, Jake. Loosen it or I’ll kill you.” Jake sighed, tugging on the navy blue tie until it was hanging loosely around Sunghoon’s neck, a stark and messy contrast to his crisp black suit and neat button up.

“Jesus Christ. After fifteen years, you’d think you’d know how to tie a tie.” Jake said, shaking his head as his best friend checked his hair in the mirror.

“Are you sure we have to go to this thing tonight?” Sunghoon huffed, brushing a stray piece of hair into place.

“Don’t be stupid. You’ve been going to these galas since you were six, and dragging me along with you.” Jake scoffed, pushing Sunghoon’s head from behind and ruining his hairstyle yet again, the latter glaring.

“You love it.” Sunghoon teased, tearing his eyes away from the mirror after checking his hair a last time. “God, I can’t believe we’re still having these idiotic galas. Everyone just knows they’re a coverup for big corporations to distract from the fact that they’re abusing their poor workers.”

“Nobody cares these days. Put a bow on anything and the media will eat it up.” Jake said, adjusting his tie before slapping his friend on the shoulder. “Ready to ruin some lives? Destroy some young futures?”

“Not funny.” Sunghoon warned, pointing his finger at Jake while trying to tug on his shoes with the other hand. “You know how much I hate the company.”

“Say that as much as you want, but you’re still wearing shoes bought with your daddy’s blood money.” Sunghoon huffed.

“Hm...I suppose you’re right.” he said, putting his hands on his hips.

“C’mon, let’s get you to the ball, Prince Charming.” Jake dragged Sunghoon out of the room by the wrist, locking it behind him, Sunghoon in tow.

Sunghoon sighed. God, how he hated his life. A legacy built on deception, and nothing he could do about it. Him and Jake made their way to the elevators, his dull eyes disappearing behind the closing doors.

He didn’t belong anywhere. Certainly not here.

˗ˋ☆ˊ˗

On the other side of the city, you were having an entirely different conversation.

“Take that off, Chae.” you said, biting into an apple. Your red lipstick bled into the fruit as you stared judgingly at Chaewon’s enormous diamond necklace.

“But it’s so pretty.” she crossed her arms, but you gave her a stern glance and she turned around to change with a roll of her eyes. “And you, put that out.” you swatted at Jay’s hand, a lit cigarette perched between his two fingers, roiling smoke spilling from the top. “You’re gonna make my new dress smell like smoke.”

“Jeez, what’s got your panties in a twist?” Jay asked, putting out his cigarette on the corner of the coffee table, which made you frown. “No need to stress. You’ve done this business routine a million times over.”

“I’m just nervous, I guess.” you said, hands fidgeting in your lap.

“I thought you didn’t care what the Parks thought about you.”

“I don’t.” you said firmly, tongue poking into the flesh of your left cheek. “I just want things to go smoothly, that’s all.”

“So you’re not gonna stand up to those fuckers that ruined your life? No protest?” Jay asked, resting his chin on his hand. “You always wanted to take them down.”

“Of course I do. But tonight’s not the night.” you sighed, rubbing your forehead, smudging your foundation and cursing when you realized what you had done. “I just want to be put together, just for one night.”

“Well you certainly look the part, honey.” he said, eyes trailing over your floor length red gown. “You’re a proper businesswoman.”

“I hope so.” you laughed.

“You’re gonna kill it. I know it for a fact.” Jay said, pressing a kiss to your cheek before standing. “Now let’s get you to this ball.” You grinned up at him, getting to your feet and brushing the dust off your skirt with determination.

“Let’s show these people who our company is.”

˗ˋ☆ˊ˗

[m1ckeyb3rry]

hii, i was wondering if i could submit a request for a fic🤔I don't rlly have any specific prompt but i want it to be about karasu or zantetsu, either one is fine. i've read all of ur karasu fics and they're so good! i love ur writing sm!! if u don't want to i totally understand but i also just want to tell u that i think ur writing is awesome (^◡^)

Synopsis: You become taken with your coworker’s roommate, Karasu, unaware that he’s just as fascinated by you — and maybe he has been for longer than you realize.

BLLK Masterlist

Pairing: Karasu x Reader

Chapter Word Count: 8.6k

Content Warnings: relationship dynamics many would consider…interesting…, <- never thought i’d be using THAT for a karasu fic, i’m bored of normal karasu characterization so i made him ooc, he’s like fr a weirdo icl, otoya catches strays, yukimiya is just trying to get through the workday, reader is a model, reader’s feet are mentioned a lot?? not sexually in the slightest (they’re injured so she complains abt them) but i mean it’s there ig if you’re a hater, very vague and unfinished feeling not on purpose i just gave up tbh

A/N: you sent this to me so long ago idek if you remember it LMAOAOAO i am so sorry i like fell off the face of the earth in terms of answering requests but HERE IT IS erm sorry it actually highkey sucks but at least karasu is in it…i guess…UGHHHH I HATE THIS BUT I COULDN’T KEEP PROCRASTINATING IT YOU LITERALLY SENT THIS IN THE BEGINNING OF AUGUST I’M SO SORRY MY DEAR but also tysm HAHHA you are very sweet!! i’m glad you like my writing and once again i am sorry for disappearing…

Additional: check my pinned post to make sure i have requests open; after reading the rules, please feel free to make your own!

You had never seen the man leaning against the wall behind the camera before. He wore a dark trench coat and a plaid scarf looped around his neck, and unlike everyone else bustling about the set, barking out orders and shoving each other into place, he was entirely calm. In his right hand, he held his phone, scrolling through something on it with his thumb, and in between his teeth was a lollipop — cherry flavored, which you only knew because of the wrapper lying at his feet.

“That’s not Yukimiya, right?” you whispered to the girl who was buttoning up the back of your top.

“Hm?” she said. “No, Mr. Yukimiya hasn’t checked in yet. I have no idea who that is.”

He was tall, with wide shoulders and the type of face that must have been crafted with painstaking detail by someone or another, his features keen, his eyes a brilliant shade of blue so dark they were nearly violet or black. Dark hair fell into darker eyebrows like the ink of a ballpoint pen on a paper-pale forehead, and just above his left cheekbone was a black beauty mark, which changed everything and yet nothing about him.

You supposed he must’ve sensed your gaze lingering on him, for he furrowed his brow and then lifted his chin, scanning the room before his eyes meet yours. He didn’t seem offended by the prying, his lips curling into a smile as he lifted his left hand into a jaunty wave, returning his attention to whatever he was reading on his phone before you could respond in turn or do anything to feel less like you had been caught committing some crime.

“I’m sorry I’m late!”

This must’ve been Kenyu Yukimiya, your partner for the shoot. He was handsome, too, with a harried, windswept appearance to his reddened cheeks and tousled hair; when he grinned at you apologetically, he was entirely reminiscent of a painting from antiquity.

He sat in the chair next to you as the makeup team got to work, applying the faintest touch of product so that he was not entirely washed out by the blinding lights of the cameras in your faces. You returned his smile with one of your own, polite and careful.

“Luckily, the director hasn’t arrived yet, so it’s not a problem,” you said. “Apparently, he’s strict on everyone but himself.”

Yukimiya winced as a heap of clothes was thrown at him and the finishing touches were placed on his chestnut hair. You watched him with amusement, your hands folded in your lap as he was yanked to his feet.

“Guess I got lucky this time, then,” he said, stumbling into the dressing room, the door slamming shut behind him. You stood yourself, stretching your arms and legs with a deep breath, rolling your ankles in the air, alternating as you did so, and then pacing back and forth in an attempt to accustom yourself to the monstrosities that your feet had been shoved into.

The man in the corner didn’t seem affected by the chaos Yukimiya’s appearance had thrown everyone into. You thought you saw something like a snort escape him, but otherwise he was calm — although you noticed he had tucked his phone away and shoved his hands in his pockets, opting to instead observe his surroundings with a soft curiosity.

You turned away before he could shift his attention to you once again, because your pride could not handle being caught by him a second time, and you pretended like you were entirely fascinated with putting one foot in front of the other, walking in a line so straight it was as if it had been drawn with a ruler.

Yukimiya reappeared completely ready a few seconds later, tying the laces of his dress shoes and then joining you at your side, although of course he did not need to practice walking or anything so silly. Like most men, he had been afforded the luxury of comfort; he wasn’t the showpiece of this edition, after all. You were, and so you were the one made up into a spectacle beyond natural ability or attempt.

“Everyone, in your places!” the director shouted as he entered the studio, a steaming cup of coffee in one hand and the other on his hip. He was diminutive in stature and wore a ridiculously feathered hat, but what he lacked in height, he more than made up for in position, so nobody would dare to say that to him, least of all you, who could so easily be replaced.

Still, for one final time, you allowed yourself to look at the man standing all by himself, wondering if he’d offer some reaction to the getup, some indication that you weren’t alone in your feelings. You weren’t sure why it was him who you sought out; perhaps because he, unlike everyone else, was a mystery, an enigma, and so while you could map out without knowing what all the other faces in the room looked like at that moment, you needed to see his to understand it.

He wrinkled his nose into a snicker, shaking his head like he couldn’t quite believe his eyes, and then he took his phone back out of his pocket, maybe to give himself an excuse for laughing. It wasn’t like he really needed an excuse, because no one else was even looking at him, but then again, there was never any harm in caution.

“You’re Y/N L/N, right?” Yukimiya said to you, his hand on your shoulder as you faced the camera, waiting for the director to adjust your stances. “It’s a pleasure. I’m surprised this is the first time we’re actually talking.”

“The pleasure is mine,” you said. “And yes, it’s a wonder we haven’t worked together before, given how frequently I’ve heard your name mentioned. I’m looking forward to it.”

Something about Yukimiya served to enhance everyone he was around, and so, instead of stealing the attention from you, he somehow managed to direct the spotlight so that it shone only on your placid face. You had been expecting the opposite, but you weren’t angry about it; in fact, you couldn’t have been more pleased. It was always the worst thing when your coworker was jostling you out of the way for a few extra seconds in front of the cameras, and you thought to yourself that you’d have to find some way of ensuring you were booked with him more often.

“Amazing! I don’t think I’ve ever been so quickly satisfied by a shoot!” the director said, clapping his hands together and nodding at you both. “Excellent work. I think we can wrap up for the day. I’ll see you two here at the same time tomorrow!”

“Wow,” Yukimiya said as everyone started disassembling the set. “I thought you said he was strict.”

You shrugged as you walked over to the dressing rooms. “I thought he was.”

“Well, we probably shouldn’t complain,” he said. “Between this and practice, my schedule is booked. I have no space to be ungrateful about a little extra time.”

“Very true,” you said. “It’s always nice when things like this end sooner than anticipated. Better than later, anyways.”

The first thing you took off were those excuses for shoes, kicking them under the door for good measure and shoving your feet into a pair of fluffy slippers, wiggling your toes with a sigh. Peeling off every layer you had squeezed into for the sake of the director’s creative vision, you curled up on the bench in only your underwear, sipping on water through a metal straw and staring at the wall, hugging your knees to your chest, lost in thinking about nothing.

Only when you grew cold did you stand, pulling on a sweatshirt three sizes too large and sweatpants that puddled at your shoes, shielding you from the world as you trudged out of the dressing room, wanting to rub your eyes but knowing that you would smear makeup all over the backs of your hands. You settled instead for playing with the thread you had taped to the handle of your water bottle for exactly such an occasion, twirling the loose ends of the meticulous knots in between your fingers idly.

“Ah — L/N!” Yukimiya waved at you as you made your way towards the exit. Unaccustomed to further camaraderie after the end of the workday, you had to fight to keep your expression neutral, and when you noticed the man from earlier was at Yukimiya’s side, the lollipop long gone, you had to fight even harder.

“Is something the matter?” you said.

“No, nothing at all,” he said. “I just figured we might as well walk to the parking garage together, since it’s late and all.”

“I appreciate it,” you said. The studio you were at had only one security guard in its employ, a man that inspired pity more than fear, with a few strands of hair glued into a desperate attempt at a combover and a shirt that was far too thin to be considered professional, so you hadn’t even considered asking for an escort, figuring you would take your chances. Still, the thought of walking alone wasn’t the most appealing, and while you wouldn’t have asked for it yourself, you were glad Yukimiya had offered his company nonetheless.

“Oh! Karasu, this is Y/N L/N. L/N, this is Tabito Karasu,” Yukimiya said as you reached the door and the other man — Karasu — used one black-gloved hand to open it.

“Is he your bodyguard or something? Thank you,” you said, nodding at Karasu for holding the door.

“He wishes,” Karasu said. His voice was rough and deep and sounded like he was perpetually in on some private joke, but you didn’t mind it, not in the slightest. “I’m his roommate — the one with a car, by the way. And a driver’s license. And the time to pick his sorry ass up.”

“What he means is that he offered to stop by on his way home to get me,” Yukimiya said.

“That’s very generous of you,” you said. “Especially considering you were there even before Yukimiya was.”

“Don’t you think? It’s fine, now he owes me one,” Karasu said, his eyes glimmering. “And I intend to collect, of course.”

“He never does anything out of the goodness of his heart,” Yukimiya said with a long-suffering sigh. “You better be careful around him, L/N. Whatever he gives you, he’ll expect the same in return.”

“I’ll keep that in mind,” you said, though of course you had no intentions of ever being around Karasu in any way that mattered.

“We play soccer for the Japanese team, you know,” Karasu said. “You should come to one of our games, L/N. I’m sure some of our teammates would be delighted by that. Right, Yuki?”

Yukimiya sighed, pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose. “If you’re talking about Otoya and Aiku, then yes, but that’s not necessarily a good thing.”

“Not for her, it isn’t,” Karasu said. “For them, sure it is. But I wasn’t talking about those two, anyways.”

“Pardon?” you said.

“Ignore him,” Yukimiya said. “I don’t really know what he’s going on about.”

“It was nice meeting you,” Karasu said, picking up before Yukimiya on the fact that your steps had stuttered to a stop. “L/N, was it?”

He offered you his hand. You took it and shook, arching a brow at the firmness of his grip, which was much more in line with a businessman than a soccer player. 

“Yes,” you said. “Karasu? It was nice to meet you as well.”

“Don’t worry,” Yukimiya said, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. “I’ll make my other roommate pick me up tomorrow.”

“Otoya?” Karasu said. “Good luck with that. He’ll be late to his own funeral, so don’t think you’re high on his priority list. The only time he comes early is—”

“Karasu,” Yukimiya interjected. “Don’t be crass.”

“Sure, sure,” he said. “See you around, L/N. Or maybe not.”

“See you,” you said, starting your car so that it wasn’t freezing when you got in, deciding it wouldn’t be polite to tack on a definitely not to the farewell and instead opting to stay silent.

“Bye, L/N,” Yukimiya said. “Until tomorrow.”

Although your apartment wasn’t large by any means, it wasn’t small, either, sitting at a comfortable medium that was paid for half by you and half by your brother, who was hardly ever home, anyways, but needed somewhere for his mail to be delivered. He was a free spirit, always traveling: for work, for fun, for women and wine, for anything his heart desired, which left you the entire space to yourself more often than not. People were jealous of you when they found out, but when you sat on the couch alone, a blanket pulled up around your shoulders and a bowl of salad held in between your knees, the television on only to ward away the silence that permeated the room, you wondered what they had to be jealous of.

The next day, you didn’t look for Karasu when you entered the studio, but you knew as you stepped in that he wasn’t there. There was something missing, the room a little brighter without him in the corner, waiting with an unmatched patience for Yukimiya to be done. Yukimiya must’ve made good on his threat, then, to call their other roommate to pick him up, although privately you wondered why he couldn’t just drive himself.

The shoot went even smoother the second day than it had the first, and it was a surprise the director didn’t fall to your feet and grovel at the speed with which you executed his vision. Yukimiya struck that perfect balance of workmanlike and personable, and you were content to play along with him, so all in all things moved with relative swiftness.

When you went to leave, you noticed that Yukimiya was standing by the door on his own, tapping his phone furiously. You were under no obligation to stop, but for some reason, you did, waiting awkwardly for a second before clearing your throat.

“Is everything alright?” you said. He startled, almost dropping his phone as he blinked at you.

“Yes! Yes, it’s fine, it’s just my roommate is a jerk, that’s all. Last night, he told me he was fine with picking me up, but now all of a sudden he’s busy,” he said with a scoff.

“Otoya, right?” you said. Yukimiya cocked his head.

“Yes, how’d you know?” he said.

“Karasu — your other roommate mentioned him yesterday,” you said, correcting yourself so that it didn’t seem like Karasu was someone you paid special attention to. Judging by Yukimiya’s expression, you didn’t think you had been entirely successful in the attempt, which was unlike you. You bit the tip of your tongue so that you didn’t say anything further, waiting for him to respond.

“Right,” he said.

“Why don’t you drive yourself?” you said, crossing your arms and standing beside him, facing the road as he was. 

“I can’t,” he said.

“You never learned?” you said. He shook his head, adjusting his glasses self-consciously.

“It’s not recommended I do,” he said. He didn’t elaborate further, but he didn’t have to; you recognized it wasn’t your place and hummed in acknowledgement.

“If you want, I don’t mind taking you,” you said. You didn’t know where Yukimiya lived — for all you knew, it was across the city entirely — but it didn’t hurt to extend your hand like that, especially because you had a sense that he wouldn’t even accept it.

“It’s alright,” Yukimiya said. “Karasu said he’s on his way, since last he checked, Otoya’s in the shower now, for some reason.”

“Oh,” you said. “That’s kind of him.”

“Kind?” Yukimiya said, and then to your surprise, he laughed. “I wish I knew as little about him as you do.”

“Is he a bad person?” you said.

“Not at all,” Yukimiya said. “He’s great. He’s one of my best friends, in fact; it’s just that kind and Karasu rarely if ever go together in the same sentence.”

“How can someone be your best friend if you don’t even think they’re kind?” you said, intrigued by the puzzle Yukimiya had presented you with. The way he spoke of Karasu, it was as if he were some willful spirit that occasionally deigned to lend his aid to those who could bring him some benefit, but the way the two of them treated one another didn’t seem anything like that.

“I don’t know,” Yukimiya said. “If you knew him better, I wouldn’t have to explain this. He’s a hard person to understand, and just when you think you’ve finally got it, he goes and complicates things further.”

“That sounds exhausting,” you said.

“That’s the strangest thing about it all,” Yukimiya said as a car pulled up in front of you both, the hazard lights turning on. “With him, it’s entirely natural.”

Karasu stepped out of the driver’s side, shutting it behind him and joining the two of you on the curb, grinning at Yukimiya in a way that almost felt mocking.

“Told you Otoya wasn’t to be trusted,” he said. “You’re paying for dinner.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Yukimiya said, tossing his bag at Karasu, who caught it without flinching. “Put this in for me.”

“Whatever you say,” Karasu said, opening the back door of the car and throwing the bag onto the floor before slamming it shut and patting the handle for good measure. “Is that everything, your royal highness?”

“Yes,” Yukimiya said. “I’m going to kill Otoya when we get back.”

“Hm,” Karasu said. “Violent.”

“He deserves it,” Yukimiya said. “Bye, L/N. Thanks for waiting with me.”

“It’s not an issue,” you said, especially because you hadn’t done it on purpose, and even if you had, it hadn’t been for him. “I’m glad everything worked out.”

You wanted to say something more, something to Karasu in particular, but you didn’t know what or how. It wasn’t like you knew him — not a little and not at all, as Yukimiya had pointed out, and indeed you had no reason to speak to him in the first place. He wasn’t anything but your coworker’s roommate, so what did he mean to you?

Yukimiya shut his door with a hurried apology about the cold, and then it was just you and Karasu on the curb, and you couldn’t tell why, but the way he looked at you made you think he could hear every thought which was racing through your mind. 

“Yukimiya’s right. It’s cold out,” he said. “You should go home now.”

“I’m just about to,” you said.

“Are you?” he said. 

“Why are you questioning that?” you said, surprisingly affronted, although he hadn’t said anything insulting. “Of course I am. It’s not like I have anywhere else to go.”

“I’m not questioning anything,” he said. “Drive safely.”

“Wait,” you said. “Will you be here tomorrow?”

“Would you prefer it if I am?” he said.

“I’d prefer it if you answered my questions instead of coming up with more of your own,” you said, which you thought would be met with shock — after all, it was a rare thing that you broke character and said anything that could be perceived as cutting — but was instead received with a snicker.

“Yes,” he said. “I’ll be here tomorrow. Early, if that’s what you want.”

“It doesn’t matter to me,” you said. “Do what you’d like.”

“I think that I will,” he said, and then Yukimiya was rolling down the window, telling him to hurry up, damnit, so he left you behind without another word, the car’s engine purring as they drove away.

You must’ve looked like such a fool the next morning, the final of the shoot, your eyes immediately going to the corner where Karasu had been that first day. It was empty, and despite yourself, your shoulders slumped when you realized that he wasn’t there, which was enough for you to break out of that strange trance. Why had you even hoped in the first place? He had made no indication that he was going to come, and you were old enough to know that hoping and wishing were certain paths to disappointment.

“Do you want me to take you back tonight?” you asked Yukimiya, sitting in a chair beside him as you waited for the director to come. It was a clumsy and roundabout way of getting to what you actually wanted out of him, but the last thing you could do was tell him the truth. What would he say, if he knew why you were actually offering? What would he think of you then?

“Hm? No, it’s fine, Karasu’s already got it. He’s at the gym with Shidou — er, another teammate of ours — right now, but he’ll be done before we are, and the studio’s closer to the gym than our apartment is, so he told me it wouldn’t be any extra trouble,” he said, and you thought he must’ve added those extra details for the sole purpose of seeing what your response to them would be, but then you remembered that Yukimiya wasn’t that kind of person. He was just telling you as a way to fill the time, not to get one over you or anything like that.

“That’s good,” you said. “Convenient.”

“Yup,” Yukimiya said. “My agent told me we’d be doing individual photos today.”

“Huh?” you said. “Oh, right. Yes, I think that’s the case.”

“That’s a shame. I enjoyed working with you,” he said.

“Me, too,” you said, and unlike most times, you weren’t lying when you did. “I’m sure we’ll meet again soon, though. There’s not so many of us our age.”

“True,” he said. “It’s a given.”

“Exactly,” you said.

“Yukimiya! You’re up first!” the director shouted, entering as he always did — like a whirlwind, leaving papers scattered and assistants flustered in his wake. 

“That’s my cue,” Yukimiya said with a long-suffering sigh.

“Good luck,” you said, glad that it wasn’t your turn just yet. The shoes you were meant to wear sat innocently before you, about two feet away, and although it was impossible for inanimate objects to be snide, they were quite close to it, glaring at you with their bejeweled straps and their impossible tall heels, tittering between themselves at the thought of the cuts already forming on your ankles, the bandages you’d have to remove in order for those terrors to slide on without fuss.

You set your water bottle on the armrest of your chair, taking up the thread and crossing it over itself in the patterns you had been taught in elementary school. You didn’t have anyone to tie these bracelets around, and you couldn’t wear them yourself, for they’d be cut away almost immediately, but the repetitive motions soothed your mind, distracting you from the red soaking through your white socks.

“L/N!” the director screamed, even though you were sitting right there and could hear him perfectly fine. “Put your damn shoes on and get the hell up here!”

Without Yukimiya there to soften the blow, you were the direct target of all of his anger. Swallowing back every emotion you had ever felt and would ever feel, you bent over and began to rip the nude-colored band-aids, stained rusty at the edges, off. Balling them up and throwing them in the trash, you stood on aching soles and pulled the shoes on, one after another, clenching your teeth and taking off your sweater so that you could waltz over to where the cameras were trained.

“Took you long enough,” the director groused. 

“Yes, sir,” you said. “How should I stand?”

“Just put your hands there, and your one leg there,” the director said vaguely, waving his arms about before striking what must’ve been an approximation of the pose he wanted you to take. You did your best to copy it, and the cameras went off, your vision temporarily fleeing and then coming back in spots as the lights faded. “No!”

“No?” you said.

“That’s all wrong! It’s horrible, horrible — you’re not even trying to do what I asked!” he said. “Yukimiya could do it, so why can’t you? Just do this!”

He did the same thing again. You weren’t sure what else you could adjust, but you moved slightly, twisting your torso at a different angle and smiling without your teeth this time. He grunted and motioned for the cameras to go again, but after a few more photos, he groaned, dragging his face over his hands.

“This is horrendous! You look entirely stiff and posed. It’s like you're a mannequin!” he said.

“I don’t — I’m not — what should I fix?” you said, unable to stop nerves from creeping into your voice and jostling it about. As difficult as he was to work with, you knew that the director was a big name in the industry, and if he only had bad things to say about you, then your entire livelihood would be threatened.

“Ugh!” he said, stomping onto the set and grabbing your arm, wrenching it down so hard you were surprised it didn’t dislocate. You chewed on the frayed flesh of the inside of your cheek to keep from yelping, allowing yourself to be pliable as he dragged your leg forward into what he wanted from you. “It’s like you’re a completely different person today! Just disappointing.”

Whatever position he had coerced you into was nothing like the one he had wanted you to imitate, but you refrained from pointing that out, holding it in place while the photographers adjusted their lenses. It was uncomfortable and made the lace lining your collar dig into your throat even more, but at least that served as a reminder for you to be silent.

“That’s enough,” the director said, massaging his temples. “We’re not getting anything more out of you.”

“What?” you said, standing normally, tired of contorting yourself for the impossible-to-please man. “What do you mean?”

“You’re lifeless. I don’t know how you managed to fool me yesterday and the day before, but I see it now. Honestly, if it weren’t for the concerning accusations I’d face, I’d just dig up a grave and pay the families half the royalties. It’d be a cheaper and better performance than whatever you’re giving me,” he said.

“What?” you said again, shame pouring over you, cold in a way that was closer to heat, ringing in your ears and coating your tongue. You couldn’t think of another response, any other way to defend yourself. If he was saying it, then it really was the truth. You swallowed, about to bow your head and shuffle off of the set for good, but then, like a bird in your peripheral vision, you noticed someone standing in the corner.

It was Karasu, and he was muffling a laugh. When he noticed you were looking at him, he dropped his hand from in front of his mouth and jerked his head towards the director, mouthing something that looked suspiciously like get a load of this guy. Your eyes widened, and then you, too, were fighting back a giggle, because you were so tired of the entire charade and your feet hurt and you wanted to go home and sleep for a few hours but this director, this stupid fucking director, couldn’t make up his mind about what he wanted from you. And now your career was ruined and you’d go back to waiting tables and Karasu was standing there, which was ridiculous, because where had even come from? But, then again, did it matter? Because the most amazing thing of all was that he was laughing. The situation was horrible and he was laughing as if it was the most entertaining moment of his life.

“There!”

You cringed as the cameras went off in quick succession, but they were faster than you, and you knew for sure they had caught you before you had cowered away. The director stroked his chin, and then, to your surprise, clicked his tongue in approval.

“Well done,” he said. “That’s the kind of genuine appeal I was looking for. If you can bring more of that to the table, then anyone would be happy to have you.”

You frowned, his sudden switch in mood giving you whiplash. Only seconds earlier, he had been berating you, and now he was praising you? You couldn’t understand what had brought about the change, but you were at least quick enough to not question it. 

“Thank you,” you said. “I appreciate the advice. And the opportunity to work with you.”

“I’ll hire you again,” he said, which sounded as much like a threat as it did a promise. “We’ll bring it out of you. Now that I know what you’re capable of, I won’t rest until I’ve perfected it in the way only I can.”

The thought of being perfected by him, molded and shaped and honed, was the most unappealing you had had in a while. You could imagine him tugging your limbs out of their sockets, rearranging them at his leisure, slicing gashes into your skin so that his clothes and accessories sat better, smoother, without unappealing wrinkles or reflections marring their surfaces.

“Thank you,” you said once more. “It’s an honor.”

“Are you alright?” Yukimiya said when you wobbled over to where your shoes and clothes were strewn about. 

“I’m fine,” you said, but you weren’t looking at him. Your distracted eyes were following Karasu as he left the studio, your eyebrows knitting together as you tried to ascertain what the point of him even coming inside had been, if he was going to leave without you — without Yukimiya. 

He didn’t come for you, a voice in the back of your head, sounding eerily similar to the director’s, said. He came to pick up his roommate, just like he promised he would.

“I can’t believe he chose you as his favorite. Maybe you’ll be his muse for the next few years!” Yukimiya said. The director was known for picking one model to fixate on for an extended period of time. His every project revolved around them, and they were catapulted into unprecedented stardom under his guiding hand, staying there until their retirement. It was everyone’s dream, and you should’ve been happy at the prospect of being next in that line, but when you beamed at Yukimiya, it was fake, the muscles in your mouth straining at the unnatural position you were putting them into.

“Who knows?” you said. “I don’t want to rely on it. It’s not a guarantee.”

“Smart idea,” he said, scrunching up his face. “I’m sorry. I’m used to soccer more than all of this. Everyone’s very…full of themselves.”

“You’re not full of yourself,” you said, shutting the door of your dressing room behind you and calling through it as you changed, hoping to delay him even slightly.

“You’ve never seen me on the field,” he said. “There, everyone’s different. You have to be, if you want to live. Ego’s a form of survival out there.”

“Doesn’t sound much different than modeling,” you said.

“A little different,” he said. “People here are just vain. That’s not the same.”

You hadn’t ever gotten changed so quickly, but in record time, you were swinging your bag over your shoulder and rejoining Yukimiya, who seemed as surprised as you were that you had finished so quickly. After all, you had a bit of a reputation for…sulking? Brooding? You weren’t sure what word they were using for it nowadays, but regardless, your proclivity for sitting in your dressing room in silence was well-known, as much a part of your character as it was a habit. 

“You’re not wrong about that,” you said. “But vanity’s a necessary evil, I think. If you want to succeed.”

“Er, right,” he said, standing in place like he was unsure of how to react. “I suppose so.”

When you did not halt but instead kept moving towards the exit, he straightened and hurried after you. You weren’t going very fast, and his strides were so long that he caught up with you before you could even brace for the biting wind that rushed in as soon as you opened the door. The two of you went along in silence, Yukimiya obviously befuddled why you were still with him but too polite to say anything about it, and it was only when you reached the entrance to the parking garage, where a familiar car was waiting, that you allowed yourself to smile.

“Man, talk about an asshole,” Karasu said, stretching like a cat as he got out of the still-running sedan. “That director is a piece of work.”

“Karasu!” Yukimiya reprimanded, which got him nothing but a sly smile from the man in question. “He’s our boss. We can’t say stuff like that about him.”

“He’s your boss,” Karasu corrected. “So you can’t say stuff like that. I can say whatever I want.”

“You’re going to get me fired,” Yukimiya said. “It’s a good thing I have soccer to fall back on, or else I’d be in trouble.”

“Go sit in the car, then, if you want to stay blameless,” Karasu said.  

“I will! And you better not bother poor L/N. I don’t want her to have a bad opinion of all of us just because of you,” Yukimiya said, jabbing his finger at Karasu, who raised his hands in the air innocently.

Today, he wore a white windbreaker over a grey shirt, and because he was not wearing gloves, you could see that there were calluses on his palms, standing out pale at the seams of his fingers. You weren’t used to seeing calluses on anyone, not when the few people you met on a semi-regular basis took such diligent measures to prevent them, but now that you were faced with them sans demonization, you found their roughness was warm and friendly, not hideous.

“He was pretty bad,” you mumbled as soon as Yukimiya had shut himself away in the car. 

“Yuki, or the director?” Karasu said.

“Don’t be horrible,” you said. “You know who I’m talking about.”

“I can’t believe he compared you to a dead body,” Karasu said.

“That’s not the worst I’ve gotten,” you said. “It took me by surprise because things had been going so well until then, but he was relatively tame, all things considered.”

“Really?” Karasu said. 

“Yes,” you said, dropping your voice to a murmur in case anyone was around, not wanting to give yourself a reputation as a whiner. “Once, someone asked me if my mother was a fish, because there was no other explanation for how I was flopping around.”

“That’s rude,” he said.

“It was!” you said. No one had ever listened to you before, least of all with such a benign expression on their face, and you were so starved of it that you could not contain yourself any longer. “Especially because I was standing still, not flopping around or whatever. Honestly, I wanted to ask him if his mother was a fish, because you know what? There was no other explanation for how he smelled!”

“Horrid!” Karasu said, beaming at you. “You should’ve.”

“Oh, no, no, I couldn’t. I shouldn’t even have said it to you,” you said, shaking your head and pressing your hands over your mouth, unsure of any other method of stopping yourself that would be nearly as effective. 

“But you did,” he said, zipping up his jacket in a swift movement. “I’ll think of something about myself to tell you in return. Give me a day or two.”

“That’s not why I did that,” you protested. “And we don’t have a day or two, anyways, so you’ll have to do it now or never again.”

“Sure we do,” he said. “We live in the same city, don’t we? I bet our paths will cross. Where do you go grocery shopping?”

“Grocery shopping?” you said.

“Karasu! You’re low on gas!” Yukimiya said, rolling down his window. 

“I go to the place across from the park on South 18th Street. Every Thursday after practice,” Karasu said. “Meet all sorts of people there. Never know who I’m going to run into.”

You could picture exactly the store he was talking about; it wasn’t where you typically went, but sometimes, if you were running low on something hard to find, you’d walk the extra few blocks. It was much bigger than the one close to your apartment, after all, and suddenly you wondered if you had seen Karasu there before, if you had seen him ten or twenty times and just not noticed.

“When do you finish practice?” you said, right before he got into his car. 

“Lunchtime,” he said. “I’m hungry more often than not.”

“It’s not good to shop for food when you’re hungry,” you said.

“Then I’ll have to do something about it before I do,” he said. “Well, it depends. Only if I have good company.”

You didn’t realize until you were halfway home what he meant by that, and by then it was too late for you to change your mind — not that you would’ve. Not that you needed to. He wasn’t holding you to anything, even though you knew as well as he did that you would be there; still, ultimately it was your decision. Your choice. 

That was a strange characteristic of his, one that Yukimiya hadn’t mentioned. Karasu didn’t ask for things; he didn’t command them, either. He only made suggestions, nudging you along until you reached the destination that he wanted you to arrive at. You had never met a person quite so adept at it, at presenting choices and questions as disguises for inevitabilities, at guiding people’s thoughts so precisely. It would’ve been unsettling coming from anyone else, but from him, it was natural. It was how he operated. Who were you to chafe at it when that was simply who he was?

The grocery store was large, but they never changed their layout, so you knew where everything was familiarly and without checking the signs. You didn’t have anything to shop for, so you decided to wander the aisles, thinking that if something caught your eye, you’d buy it without further consideration.

You found yourself staring at a bag of oranges, a bright red 50% Off! sticker slapped right on the netted packaging. Swallowing, you reached for it, but before you could, someone snatched them away, holding them in the air teasingly.

“I thought you shouldn’t shop for food when you’re hungry,” Karasu said. “And might I add, what a coincidence it is, seeing you here!”

“I’m not hungry,” you said, taking the oranges back and holding them to your chest protectively. “And I wasn’t looking for you.”

“I didn’t say that you were,” he said. “I distinctly recall saying that it was a coincidence we even met, in fact. Anyways, maybe you’re not hungry, but I am, so I should be off. Meals to eat, shopping lists to plan…it’s a busy life I have.”

“Sounds mundane,” you said. “Sorry.”

“Don’t be,” he said. “You’re right. That reminds me! Before I go, what is it that should I tell you?”

You couldn’t deny that that was the real reason for why you had come to the grocery store — what was he going to reveal? For as much as he knew about you, you knew frighteningly little about him, and now that you were faced with a chance to learn what kind of person he really was, you didn’t want to let it leave your grasp.

“Whatever you want,” you said. He plucked the oranges from your grasp again, and before you could complain, set them at the bottom of the small basket he held in his arms.

“How about this? I knew you were going to go for the oranges,” he said.

“How?” you said.

His eyes sparkled as he leaned closer to you, and you suddenly remembered Yukimiya’s warnings. Whatever you thought you knew about Karasu, it was likely only half or maybe a quarter the truth. Really, he was shifting and cunning, a fox and a crow, far from comprehension, not a danger but not kind, either.

“I’ll answer if you tell me something else about yourself,” he said.

“Why are you acting like I’m entering some kind of contract with a devil?” you said.

“I’m not a devil,” he said. “Just Karasu. My teammates think I’m a great guy, if the recommendation sets you at ease.”

“It sounds more like you’re trying to blackmail me,” you said. He shook his head.

“Couldn’t it be said that you’re doing the same? You’re asking questions about me and expecting that I answer when you have no intentions of reciprocating,” he said. 

You pouted, because when he put it like that, he wasn’t wrong, and it wasn’t that you didn’t trust him — because you did. You trusted him more than you should’ve, considering how guarded you had learned to become.

“I have an older brother,” you said. “He’s overseas right now. I don’t think he’ll be back for a while.”

“I have an older sister,” Karasu said. “Maybe they know each other.”

“Probably don’t,” you said. “Also, you didn’t answer my question.”

“I guess I didn’t,” he said, reaching around you to take two boxes of cereal off of a shelf. “Try again.”

“My parents didn’t want me to be a model,” you said. “They thought I should be a teacher. I’m good at it. Children like me.”

“I was going to go into investment banking,” he said. “Or consulting. One of those such fields. Maybe I still will, but soccer is fine for now.”

This was a game for him, you realized. Like tennis, but better, and so, instead of being irritated, you decided you might as well indulge it. It had been so long, anyways, since the last time you had spoken to someone freely, without concern for what they might spread about you, whose ears they would whisper your secrets in just to get one or two steps ahead.

“I threw a dress at a designer’s face once,” you said. “He didn’t like the shade of lipstick I was wearing, even though he was the one that picked it. The only reason my reputation wasn’t ruined was because he ended up liking the way the lipstick turned up digitally and promised not to say anything about it if I allowed them to use my photos after all.”

Karasu laughed, opening the doors to the fridge and taking out milk, stacking it neatly in the basket. You weren’t sure when the two of you had begun shopping in earnest, but it seemed he had forgotten about his plans to eat lunch. 

“In high school, my teammate pissed me off, so I made sure to shove him around extra when we tried out for a nearby youth team. It made him look so inept that he didn’t make the cut,” he said, taking an abandoned cart and depositing his things in it, motioning for you to put your purse in as well.

“That’s mean!” you said, but it was hard to disguise the fact that you, too, were laughing. “You’re mean.”

“His fault. He should’ve played better, anyways,” Karasu said. “I had been helping his sorry ass out for too long. He would’ve been cut regardless. You could say I just…expedited the process.”

“I’m the only one in my family who still wishes my brother happy birthday,” you said. “He’s a disappointment in everyone else’s eyes, but he lets me live with him and pays his share of the bills, so how can I disown him?”

“Between the two of us, my sister is the perfect one, so I’m afraid I can’t relate. Vanilla or hazelnut?” he said without skipping a beat. Before you could even answer, he face-palmed. “Oh, wait, Otoya hates hazelnut. I’ll get that so he doesn’t mistake it for his own.”

“I used to be a waitress,” you said. “Before I was a model. It was a lot less glamorous of a career. I don’t think my feet ever recovered from it.”

“I’m sure those shoes that you were forced into for your last job didn’t help any,” he said. “They looked inhumane.”

“They were,” you said, your ankles panging at the reminder, still inflamed and angry as they were. “Though I think anyone would’ve suffered with them on. I doubt the designer had human anatomy in mind when making them; I haven’t bled like that in a while.”

“They made you bleed?” he said. You hummed.

“Yeah,” you said, seeing no point in lying. Who would he tell? Who would even believe him? “Fashion over function, right? It was only for a few photos. They’ll be healed so quickly I’ll forget I had them in the first place. Enough about me, though. Tell me something else about yourself.”

“I sprained my wrist playing soccer as a kid,” he said. “It was a long time ago, but even now, I can feel it when it rains.”

He still hadn’t answered your original question, and you didn’t think he would, not until you offered him something of equal or greater value. But what did you have like that? What aspect of your silly life held enough weight that it would make someone like Karasu, always so ready with his wit and his charm, willing to part with something he clearly deemed to be a secret?

“I’m lonely,” you said, turning away from him, pretending to be fascinated with comparing two different brands of yogurt, neither of which you would buy. “You’ll laugh, but I think this is the longest conversation I’ve had with someone outside of work since my brother last came home. It’s nice, surprisingly. Talking to you and all. I like it.”

Or maybe you just liked him. You couldn’t really separate the two. Either way, it remained that ever since you had met Karasu, you could not conceive of a time when you had not known him, a time when you had gone home to your empty apartment and watched your empty shows and eaten your empty salads and thought you were satisfied by it all. You doubted he knew he had this effect, and you certainly wouldn’t be the one to tell him — after all, he’d probably be frightened if he found out that you had, in such a short time, grown so attached to him and his games and his conduct.

“The oranges,” he said. “You tried to buy them the first time I saw you.”

“What?” you said. Now it was his turn to avert his eyes and yours to watch him in fascination, finding it far easier to stomach a secret than to spit it out.

“It was a long time ago, but it was definitely you,” he said. “It was a Thursday, and I was just coming back from practice; this grocery store is far from my apartment but close enough to the field that, when Otoya — he was sick, so he had skipped that day — texted me that we were out of bread, I decided I’d make the detour. I wasn’t planning on staying here long, but right when I was about to leave, I saw you. You only had a packet of instant noodles and a bag of oranges in your hands. They were on sale back then, too, but—”

“But I had to put them back,” you finished for him, remembering that day as well as he did, albeit not his role. “Because I didn’t have enough money to get them, even when they were 50% off.”

“Yes,” he said. “I left before you noticed me, but I always — I always wish I hadn’t. I kept making the trip here, doing my shopping every Thursday at the same time until it became ingrained in me like routine, and I told myself if I ever saw you again, I’d buy them for you.”

“I can buy my own oranges now,” you said.

“I know,” he said. “That wasn’t the only reason I came back each week.”

“Why else?” you said.

“Well,” he said. “I can’t just tell you everything in one go like that, can I?”

You scoffed. “You can.”

“But I won’t,” he said.

“But you won’t,” you said with a sigh. “Anyways. So you knew me even before we met?”

“I knew of you,” he corrected you. “Though not as a model. Just as an absurdly beautiful girl I saw in a supermarket once and thought about occasionally.”

“So it was a coincidence that you happened to be at that shoot?” you said, raising an eyebrow at him.

“When Yukimiya told us about the girl he’d be working with, Otoya looked you up,” he said. “And despite how long it had been since you last crossed my mind as well as how much longer it had been since the only time I saw you in the flesh, I recognized you immediately.”

“You have a good memory,” you said.

“So I’ve been told,” he said. “I didn’t go with any strange intentions, if you’re wondering. I only wanted to know what kind of person you actually were.”

He wasn’t a typical admirer, taken with your celebrity or your status. He was curious, not about Y/N L/N the model, but you, the girl he nearly met in a grocery store so long ago it was all but inconsequential. You wondered what it said about you that instead of being wary, you only felt all the more inclined to reveal yourself to him. You wondered if this was some lack of self-preservation, as your brother would declare it, or if this was an innate knowledge, an instinctual understanding that the man before you was different.

Maybe he was or maybe he wasn’t. You didn’t know, and maybe, on some level, you didn’t care. Taking his hand, you set it on the bag of oranges, placing your own atop it firmly, your thumb tracing his scratched knuckles.

“Buy them for me,” you said. “And I’ll tell you who I am, plainly and without fuss.”

“Is that what you consider a good deal?” he said. “I’d say you’re a bit more valuable than a discount bag of oranges.”

“Do you think so?” you said. “Fine, then. The oranges, and a pack of instant noodles.”

“Closer,” he said. “But I’m a fair person. I can’t accept.”

“You,” you said, all in a rush. “The oranges, the noodles, and you. That’s my final offer. I’ll give you everything if you give me that much.”

He didn’t even pretend to consider it. You thought that it must’ve been what he was waiting for all along, what he had been, in that way of his, leading you towards.

“You’re a tough bargainer,” he said.

“So you agree to it?” you said.

“Sure,” he said, and when he noticed your face falling at the noncommittal nature of his acceptance, he laughed. “Yes. Yes, yes, I agree. The oranges, the noodles, and me; you can have all three as you please.”

And it was odd, but just for a moment, the reprieve lasting only for as long as his breathy chuckle, your feet ceased to ache.

[lovelyyandereaddictionpoint]

Fury for the Living (1) | Yandere Ghost Detective

Cypher is a prodigy detective 

Officially on the police force now he’s been a raging force for unraveling piles of cold cases across the country

He was truly a talented man

Alas aspiring detectives and veterans in the field can only speculate what gives him such amazing insight in every case

They’d never guess what the ace up his sleeve is 

One of the sole factors other than his prodigious charm that made him the amazing detective he was

He could see ghosts

Apparitions, yokais, curses—you name it

Thanks to their undead input Cypher’s been able to piece together a case with nothing but a single clue

It’s his thing

It didn’t matter if he wasn’t exactly moved by justice

Or that he often hated that he had to speak with ghosts often

There was nowhere he could really go that didn’t have ghosts and the undead chatting and whining in his ear

Except for one place

An abandoned and rotted mansion in a restricted area in the forest

Or it was 

Until he found you

“Hm, I didn’t know anyone was still coming here.”

He outwardly groaned, facepalming as he prepared for your desperate plea to be help with their ‘unfinished business’

But you didn’t 

You smiled at him before skipping back up the stairs and through the wall

For a while, he’s just glad you didn’t bother him longer going back to reading his book

But then he’s pulling at his hair as the feeling he’s been ignoring hits him full force

“So what happened to you?”

“Huh?”

“Tch, look I’ve been comin’ here every day and you never say a word. I’m tired of you being polite. Just tell me already.”

“I…actually don’t know…”

“What.” 

“I just remember waking up and being….free. I don’t remember much else.”

It isn’t odd that the undead don’t remember

But not caring about it is another

For once he’s intrigued, so after a while he pries a first name out of you 

Then he begins his search 

Finding all the records about your life or death is completely scrubbed

“I don’t know that’s awfully weird ain't it?”

Similar to him, the prodigy police chief has no idea as well

Thus a weird bud of excitement blooms 

“I’m going to solve your case!”

“Uh okay, if that makes you happy.”

So he visits so much more often 

Having to talk to you about your past 

A past you don’t remember

So he elects to bring whatever he thinks might interest you

Along with taking note of what’s in the dilapidated manor

Rotten books, old gaming systems, some form of music, paints and pens

He gets to know you pretty well

“I think Cypher if I were alive again, I’d love to spend time with you.”

“...Really?”

“Yeah, you’re a real good friend.”

You have no idea what you do to him

He thought this newfound investigation would consume his mind like all good detectives had

But instead, he was thinking of you

Standing and walking beside him like you weren’t a ghost

Cutely tilting your head when he makes a joke you don’t understand

It sends blood rushing in places it hadn’t when he found out you could touch him

Casually tapping on his exposed shoulder to reveal a secret passageway

He used to complain to himself about how far he’d have to walk to get to his little place of paradise

But now he was complaining when the station was calling him in

“Hey (Y/n)...have you ever tried leaving the manor?”

“Mmm no.”

“Why not?”

“Never a reason to.”

“Then let’s try something new.”

He’s ecstatic when you can follow him into his car and eventually his apartment

But then he’s reminded of all the annoying nuisances that he was trying to avoid

“Hey everyone! Cypher’s all pooped out maybe we can give him a break?”

As if you were an exorcist all those ghosts seemed to understand 

Letting you organize them in the room over while Cypher locks himself into the bedroom

“You’re….amazing.”

“Oh thank you? I think you’re amazing too Cypher.”

“I don’t think you understand (Y/n)...I desperately want to marry you.”

“But Cypher you know I’m dead, right?”

“I can easily change that to be with you.”

“Cypher don’t!” 

Now he’s got to fight himself about solving this case

If he gets to the bottom of your death, he’d lose you

So he might stall a bit 

At least until he finds a small bit of evidence pointing to your death from a murder

“You were…murdered?!”

“Was I? That sucks.”

You’re right it sucks

And now Cypher’s motivated with one thing

Revenge

How dare some dirtbag kill you before he got to meet you?!

Put you in any amount of pain when you so easily are the light of his?! 

He vows that whosever is the cause of your death will pay greatly 

And he’s willing to put everything on the line to solve your case

I think I smell a series coming out of this 🖤🖤🖤🖤

[zeroseuniverse]

Fall In Love Again

Word Count: 1.2K Summary: “this is life-changing. Earth-shattering. My best friend—my dear best friend—had a crush on me and never told me?” Pairing: Jiung X reader

Navigation

“You used to have a crush on me?” Jiung repeats, his voice somewhere between amusement and offense. “Used to?”

You immediately regret your life choices. Your whole life, actually.

“It was a long time ago,” you say, waving him off like it’s nothing, like your face isn’t on fire. “It doesn’t matter.”

Jiung, unfortunately, does not believe in letting things go.

“No, no, no.” He shifts closer, resting an elbow on the table and leaning in with that stupid smirk. “I feel like this is important information. How long are we talking? Months? Years?”

You groan, dragging your hands down your face. “Why do you care?”

“Because,” he says, now fully grinning, “this is life-changing. Earth-shattering. My best friend—my dear best friend—had a crush on me and never told me?” He gasps dramatically, placing a hand over his chest. “How could you keep such a thing from me?”

You glare at him, and he just looks more entertained. “Because it was embarrassing, Jiung.”

That should shut him up. It should. But instead, something shifts in his expression—just a flicker of something unreadable before he tilts his head, watching you too closely.

“Embarrassing?” he echoes, quieter this time. “Why?”

You hesitate. Because back then, you thought he was perfect? Because you hung onto every little thing he did and felt ridiculous about it? Because you knew, deep down, that he never saw you that way?

You swallow, shaking your head. “I don’t know. I just…grew out of it.”

Jiung hums. But the way he’s looking at you now makes you uneasy, like he knows something you don’t.

“Interesting,” he muses.

You narrow your eyes. “What?”

“Oh, nothing.” He grins, all innocent. “Just wondering how hard it’ll be to get you to like me again.”

Your brain short-circuits. “I—what?”

Jiung stands, stretching like he just made a casual observation about the weather. “I mean, it was already there once. Can’t be that hard to bring it back.”

You stare at him. “That’s not—Jiung.”

“Hm?” He slings an arm around your shoulders, completely ignoring the way you tense up. “I’ve got work to do.”

And just like that, you realize you’ve made a terrible mistake.

Because Jiung? Jiung doesn’t lose.

And if there’s one thing you know about him, it’s that he always gets what he wants.

Jiung does not waste time.

The very next day, he starts his mission. And it’s a problem.

At first, it’s subtle—too subtle. You catch him watching you more often, lingering just a second too long after a joke, smiling to himself like he knows something you don’t. But Jiung has never been good at subtlety for long.

So, naturally, things escalate.

It starts with him being ridiculously nice.

“You’re cold?” He shrugs off his hoodie before you even finish saying the word, draping it over your shoulders like some kind of romance movie lead.

“You’re hungry?” He’s already pushing his plate toward you, not even hesitating when you try to refuse.

“You look good today.” That one is thrown out so casually, you almost miss it.

You squint at him. “Okay, what is going on?”

Jiung blinks, the picture of innocence. “What do you mean?”

“This.” You gesture vaguely at him. “This weirdly nice, overly charming, suspicious behavior. What are you up to?”

Jiung leans on his elbow, looking at you like you’re the clueless one. “I told you, didn’t I? I’m winning back that crush.”

You groan. “It doesn’t work like that.”

“Doesn’t it?” He grins. “Because I think it’s working.”

It’s definitely working.

You hate to admit it, but Jiung has always been magnetic. And now that he’s trying? Now that he’s actively making you flustered? You don’t stand a chance.

But he doesn’t stop at just being sweet. No, Jiung is also annoying.

He starts pulling out old memories just to mess with you.

“Remember that time in high school when you wrote my name in your notebook?”

Your jaw drops. “That never happened.”

“It so did,” he says, grinning ear to ear. “Little hearts and everything.”

You shove his arm. “You’re making that up.”

He winks. “Am I?”

You hate him. You hate how your face burns every time he teases you, how he throws compliments at you like they’re casual observations, how he acts like you’re the only person in the room when he talks to you.

And then, one night, he catches you slipping.

You’re sitting beside him on his couch, some random movie playing in the background, when he shifts a little closer.

“Hey,” he says, voice softer than usual.

You turn your head—and he’s right there.

His face is inches from yours, his eyes locked on you, serious in a way that makes your heart stutter.

His voice is quieter when he speaks again. “Do you really not like me anymore?”

Your breath catches.

Because the truth is, you don’t know.

Or rather—you do know. And it’s not the answer you want to admit.

Jiung watches you carefully, gaze flickering down to your lips before meeting your eyes again. And for once, he doesn’t tease.

“I never stopped liking you,” he murmurs.

Your heart stops.

The room feels too warm, the air too thick. You try to speak, to process, to do something, but Jiung just leans in a fraction closer, waiting—giving you the space to decide.

And maybe—just maybe—falling for him again isn’t the worst thing that could happen.

You’re pretty sure Jiung can hear your heart hammering in your chest.

He’s still close—too close. His breath is warm against your skin, his eyes searching yours like he’s trying to memorize every detail of your reaction. And the worst part? You can’t look away.

Because Jiung just admitted something you never expected.

He never stopped liking you.

He’s waiting. You can tell. He’s giving you a chance to pull away, to laugh it off, to change the subject. But you don’t. You can’t.

“…You’re serious?” you finally whisper.

Jiung exhales a soft laugh, like he expected that. “You think I’d joke about this?”

And no—no, you don’t. Because Jiung teases, he plays around, he gets under your skin—but this? This is different.

Your lips part, but nothing comes out.

Jiung watches you, his gaze impossibly gentle, and then—slowly, carefully—he reaches for your hand. His fingers brush yours, hesitant at first, before he laces them together.

His hand is warm. Steady. Comforting.

“I liked you then,” he murmurs, “and I like you now.” His thumb brushes absentmindedly over your skin. “But this time, I’m not gonna let you pretend you don’t feel something too.”

Your stomach flips. “Jiung—”

“Don’t say it’s in the past,” he cuts in, shaking his head. “Don’t say you grew out of it. Because I see you.” His voice is softer now, almost pleading. “I see the way you look at me. I see how you react when I get too close, how you try not to smile when I flirt with you.”

Your breath catches.

Because he’s right.

Jiung’s grip on your hand tightens just slightly. “If you really, really don’t feel anything, I’ll stop.” He tilts his head, eyes scanning your face. “But if there’s even a chance…”

You swallow hard. “A chance of what?”

Jiung smiles, the kind that makes your stomach do dangerous things. “Of you liking me back.”

Your silence stretches between you, heavy with everything unsaid.

Jiung doesn’t push. He just sits there, thumb still grazing your hand, waiting—patient, hopeful, earnest.

And that’s when you realize—

He’s already won.

[velvetydream]

꒰ : 🥊 [ Rocky - 민기 ] ”♡ᵎ꒱ˀˀ ↷ ⋯

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Pairing : Boxer! Mingi x GN! Reader Summary : Your boyfriend loved to take you to his matches, saying you were his little good luck charm, yet you're always worried to the core watching him fight. Word count : 1.7K Words Genre/Warning : Romance , Fluff, Angst- Boxing, Blood, Injuries, talk about marriage and having children (still GN! Reader) a/n : I have no clue of how boxing works, but Rocky goes hard so I had to write a Boxer Mingi story!🤧💕

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Mingi called you his little good luck charm, while it was an endearing name to be called, you hated it. Because it would end up with him hurt in some way or another. The boxing matches you watched, even when being his lucky charm and he wins, he was hurt. Busted lip, cut eyebrow, sometimes even a black eye. Many bruises all over his body. You hated it and he knew.

"You'll be there Saturday right?" Mingi looks up at you from the table, it was a calm morning so far.. till he had to bring up his next match. Even thinking about his upcoming matches makes your stomach turn, making you nauseous. "I don't know, I might have to work or something." Your back was turned to him as you were flipping the pancakes in front of you. The grip on the handle made your knuckles turn white, until Mingi stood behind you, his hand softly gliding over yours and making you loosen your grip. "You said you're free, you know how important it is for me that you're there." Of course, you knew, you were his little lucky charm, his motivation, the love of his life. Yet it was hard to watch him get hurt over and over again, fearing that someday he would get hurt drastically with irreparable damage to himself.

"Of course, I know that, but you also know I don't like seeing you get hurt! Mingi we've been over this countless times already." Pulling your hand away from his now, you turn the stove off, pushing the pan to a cold place before turning away and walking to the living room, your tall boyfriend following you shortly. "I barely ever get hurt! It's nothing serious!" He was getting irritated with you, just as you were getting annoyed with him. Mingi just won't understand. He won't get it into his thick stubborn head. "Yeah till now! What if one day you get hurt badly?! Paralyzed?! Do you want that? Mingi I'm worried sick every time I watch you!" Tears were building up in your eyes as you finally looked at him. He was visibly taken back by your outburst, he knew you were worried but that it was hurting and bothering you so much? He didn't think about that.

"Hey.. I'm sorry babe, come here.. Please." His hand reaches out to you, softly grabbing your wrist and pulling you against his chest, tears flowing down your cheeks now with soft sobs. Mingi felt torn, he loved boxing, and it was his passion, a way to make money besides his small barely paying job as a waiter. Yet here you were crying in his arms because you were scared to the core for him. The amount of anxiety he must've put you through with each fight he made you watch. Yet you always sat tight, smiled, cheered, and celebrated for and with him. "I should've thought about your feelings earlier, I'm sorry.." Pressing a kiss to the crown of your head, he cradles you against him, your hands balled to fists holding onto the sleeping shirt he was still in.

Mingi was overcome with guilt and also contemplation.. you did have a point. What if someday he took it too far? One wrongly placed hit and it could be over for him and his body. He would never be able to marry you, have children, or grow old with you. Those thoughts made him scared and even question his own choices about boxing. He would definitely have to talk to Yunho about this later at the training. But for now, he had to pamper you, make you smile again, and stop those tears running down your face.

"Pretty, let's watch a movie and cuddle hm? I'll finish the pancakes and you get changed into that sweater of mine you love so much~" Nodding softly, your fist rubbing over your puffy red eyes, before disappearing up the stairs to your and Mingi's shared room, searching for the sweater you loved to steal oh so often. Yet he never gifted it to you, saying it wouldn't feel the same if you owned it and didn't steal it from him anymore. Back in the living room Mingi already prepared two plates with pancakes, arranged just how you like them, some fruits, and just the perfect amount of syrup. "Thanks, Mingi.." Smiling softly at your boyfriend as you take a seat beside him, grabbing your plate while helping him choose a movie. Settling on Spirited Away, and probably also watching Howl Moving Castle immediately afterward.

Mingi later in the day left after making sure you ate dinner, and made his way to the place where he trained at, Yunho already there training one of the new younger guys that joined recently. "Mingi! You're late! What caught you up?" Yunho looked over at him, noticing the frown on his best friend's face, something at home must've happened again. Walking over to Mingi who sat down on the bench, starting to wrap his bandages around his hands, Yunho stood in front of him. "I'll quit after this Saturday. It will be my last match." His eyes did not even meet Yunhos, knowing his friend looked flabbergasted at him now. "What do you mean quit? You're on the best way to become a legend Mingi! You cannot quit now!" His hand was grabbing his shoulder now, shaking him slightly, Mingi swatting his hand away with an annoyed groan. "I don't care, living a long healthy life with Y/N is more important. I never realized through what pain I put them okay.." Mingis hands were clenched, he was visibly distraught.

Of course, he loved boxing, it was his long passion yet he loved you so much more. Enough to give this up to be able to make you not suffer anymore and grow old together.

Getting up now Mingi gets ready to warm up, Yunho following him, the conversation is apparently not over for him yet. "Why all of a sudden?" Voices calmer now, trying to understand his best friend's decision. "I realized what pain I put Y/N through, I want to grow old with them, I want children, want to marry and.. If I someday get injured and can't be saved I would never be able to forgive myself for being so careless with my body." Yunho could understand him, of course, he could. Yunho had been through the same years prior with his wife, yet he never had the potential Mingi had either. "Listen I understand but.. Have you thought this through?" Mingi sends him one last glance, making it known that he is serious.

Leaving the man alone, for now, Yunho goes back to the students he currently has. He can't be mad at Mingi, boxing is dangerous, he knew that, yet it was sad to see a rising star stop mid-air.

"I'm home!" Mingi calls out, noticing the sweet smell of baked goods in the air, making his way to the kitchen. "Mingi! I made some cupcakes! Come on taste them!" Pulling him over, you shove a sweet pastry into his hands, the buttercream decorated with colorful sprinkles. Upon taking a bite, he notices the cream on your face, wiping it away softly with his thump. And now he could see it, this was what he should live for. Your smile, your backed goods, you. Your future children and grandchildren. Growing old together.

Leaning his body down, he presses a kiss to your lips, being able to taste the sweetness of the cupcake he just ate. His hands put the cupcake away to hold your hips softly. "I love you so much, so so much." Pulling you against him, locking your lips again with his own ones. Left hand gliding up to hold the side of your face, his thump caressing your cheek softly.

The rest of the week passes by in a rush, Saturday evening arriving, you're now sitting watching Yunho massage Mingis shoulders talking to him quietly. You were glad that this would be the last time, yet dread filled you knowing you'd have to patch your boyfriend up again after the fight. Soon it started, Yunho walking around the ring, shouting to Mingi who was holding up quite strong. His opponent was not really a big deal for him, Mingi being probably almost double the size of him.

The fight continued, Mingi took in some bad hits but the other one was much worse. Being on the brink of giving up, you could see it on his face. Finally, Mingi got him down, the countdown starting, fans cheering as Mingi threw his fits up into the air. Yunho himself was jumping around screaming happily. Before running over to you and pulling you up, looking confused at Yunho now as he pulls you to the ring Mingi was in, microphone in his hand now.

"I know everyone loves to watch me fight, but despite my joy for it, I never noticed how much I hurt someone dear to me with it. The person who despite being in pain on the inside while watching me, still supported me. The person I want to grow old with." Mingi was talking, reaching out for your hand and pulling you into the ring with Yunho's help, stopping you in the middle. "The person I want children with and I want to marry. So today was my last fight! I will be retiring from fighting, but there is one last thing I have to do in this ring!" Mingi was holding your hand in his, looking into your eyes with so much love and warmth. While you tried to mirror it, you couldn't help the look of confusion.

A gasp now leaving your lips as you watch Mingi get down onto one knee, pulling out a velvet box from his left pocket. Eyes meeting your glassy ones. "You're the love of my life, my motivation.. my lucky charm so will you marry me?" A soft yes was pressed out of your lips, as tears threatened to fall, Mingi put the ring on your finger before standing up, pulling you into his arms and lifting you up. "You just made me the happiest man on earth! I love you so much!" His lips find yours, as the lights of cameras go off around you capturing this memory forever.

[whimsicalpolitical]

Under the weather - Matty Healy x Reader

in which you are sick and matty takes good care of you

content warning: fluff, medicine, bathing together, sweet matty

The room is dark, the only light filtering in through the heavy rain pattering against the window. The sound is soothing, but not enough to ease the throbbing in your head. You’re tangled in the sheets, tossing and turning, trying to find a comfortable position that might give you some relief, but nothing seems to work. Every swallow is a painful reminder of your sore throat, and the ache behind your eyes is relentless.

You groan softly, barely noticing the creak of the door as it opens. Matty steps in quietly, still in his gym clothes, his hair damp from the drizzle outside. It’s just after 8 AM—usually, you’d be up by now, making coffee or wrapped in a blanket, reading on the couch. But today, the sickness has you pinned down, and Matty knows something isn’t right.

He walks over to your side of the bed, concern etched on his face. "Love, you alright?" he asks softly, his voice laced with worry. When you don’t respond right away, he sits on the edge of the bed and gently cups your cheek, his hand cool against your burning skin.

You blink up at him, your vision blurry from both the fever and the sleep you’re trying to cling to. "Matty," you croak out, your voice hoarse and barely audible.

“You’re burning up, darling,” he murmurs, brushing his thumb across your cheek, “I think you’re sick.”

“Just a cold.”

Matty shakes his head, “even if it is a cold, you’re feeling shit and I hate that.”

You close your eyes when he leans down to press a kiss to your forehead. Your expression shows discomfort and you try to bury your face deeper into the pillow.

“What’s hurting?”

“Throat and head.”

He sighs, “alright, we’re going to fix that. You just stay here and I’ll get you something for the fever and some tea.”

“No,” you groan, reaching for his bicep, “it’s too uncomfortable here.”

Matty gives you a warm smile before his arm is already under your knees, pulling you up into his chest. His other arm is steadying your back.

“Let’s go, then. I reckon a change of scenery will help with the unease.”

You shudder at the cold air as Matty carries you into the living room, hiding your face in the crook of his neck the entire way.

“Hold on for a second, yeah?”

Matty gently lays you down on the couch, making sure you're wrapped snugly in a soft blanket. The room is dim, the only light coming from the gray morning outside. He brushes a strand of hair away from your face, his eyes filled with concern.

"How’s that?" he asks quietly, his voice barely above a whisper.

"Better," you murmur, but your throat protests with a sharp pang. You wince, and Matty immediately notices.

He leans in, his hand returning to your cheek, "I’m sorry you’re hurting so bad. How’s that tea sound?”

You shrug, “don’t know if it helps.”

“Nonsense. I will make the tea like my mum made it when I was sick, it was mental. Tasted shit but it helped.”

You close your eyes and nod again, too tired to respond. You hear him moving around the kitchen, the clink of a kettle, the rustling of tea bags. It’s a soothing sound, grounding you as the fever pulls you under.

While the water is brewing he walks into the living room again with a wet washcloth.

“Tea’s on the way, yeah? But I’m afraid I have to go and get some medicine. Only things we have is aspirin and vomex.”

“Ugh, really?”

“I know. D’you want to take the aspirin or wait until I’m back?”

Matty looks at you like you’re still the most gorgeous girl on the planet, even in your state -Bags under your eyes, your hair in a mess and cheeks flushed.

“Hm?” He asks, brushing your hair out of your face.

“I would rather wait but I feel like I’m dying and my head is killing me”

Matty frowns not knowing what to do. “Alright, maybe drink the tea and I’ll hurry up and keep this on your head, it will cool you down.”

“Okay.” You nod. You sigh at the cold feeling of the fabric on your forehead.

“Okay,” he repeats, standing up to walk back into the kitchen.

He pours the hot water into your favorite cup which says ‘Matty Healy is a rat’ and puts some sage into your ginger tea.

He takes the cup and waddles back into the living room, setting the tea on the table in front of the couch.

“You have to wait another five minutes ‘fore you drink it.”

“You’re leaving now?”

“I have to get your medicine, love. I’ll go get almotriptan for your headache, lozenges, cough syrup and tylenol, anything else?”

“The lozenges with-“

“Honey lemon, I know.”

Matty grins and leans down to kiss your cheek, “I’ll be back before you know it, just stay here, rest and drink the tea.”

“Please hurry,” you manage to say before a rough cough racks your body.

Without a word, he leans down, pressing a tender kiss to your cheek, then another to your forehead, his lips lingering as if trying to absorb some of the fever away. His hand smooths over your hair, a silent promise of comfort.

“I’ll be quick, love,” he whispers softly, his voice full of determination. “You just hang in there, alright?”

“I’ll try.”

“Love you, babe.”

You smile and listen to him slipping into his shoes and grabbing the house keys from the kitchen counter. He closes the door more quiet than usual to not give you any more pain.

You take a tentative sip of the tea, immediately grimacing at the bitter taste. It’s not pleasant, not by a long shot, but the warmth soothes your raw throat, and you force yourself to take another sip. The heat from the mug seeps into your hands, but as the warmth spreads through your chest, you start to feel uncomfortably hot.

Restlessly, you kick off the blanket and sit up, the fever making you sweat. You glance over at the door to the terrace, the idea of fresh air suddenly too tempting to resist. Wrapping the blanket around your shoulders, you shuffle over to the door, pushing it open with some effort. The cool air rushes in, a stark contrast to the heat radiating off your skin.

You step out onto the terrace, sinking into one of the chairs with a sigh of relief. The cold night air bites at your exposed skin, but it’s a welcome sensation after being trapped in the stuffy heat inside. You wrap the blanket tighter around yourself, closing your eyes and letting the coolness soothe your fevered body.

Time seems to pass in a blur as you sit there, drifting in and out of a hazy sleep. The world outside is quiet, the only sound the occasional rustle of leaves in the breeze. You barely register the sound of the front door opening until Matty’s voice cuts through the fog in your mind.

“Nah, babe, what are you doing out here? It’s fucking freezing,” he exclaims, his tone a mix of concern and exasperation. You open your eyes to find him standing in the doorway, bags of medicine in one hand, his brows drawn together in a worried frown.

“I was too hot,” you mumble, your voice hoarse, as you look up at him. “Needed some air.”

Matty quickly sets the bags down inside before rushing over to you, his hands immediately going to your face. He cups your cheeks, feeling the heat radiating off your skin, and his frown deepens.

“Your fever’s not better, love” he says softly, his thumb brushing across your cheek. “Come on, let’s get you back inside. You need to rest.”

You nod weakly, too tired to protest as he helps you to your feet. The world tilts slightly as you stand, and you lean heavily against him for support. Matty wraps an arm around your waist, guiding you back inside, the warmth of his body a comforting anchor as the cold starts to fade.

“You’re a tough one, but you need to take it easy, yeah?”

Once you’re settled back on the couch, he tucks the blanket around you with care, making sure you’re comfortable. “I can leave the door open, but it’s not a good idea to go out there.”

“Okay.”

“How are you feeling? Any better?”

You shake your head, your fingers around your neck, trying to mend the pain there, “absolute shit, Matty. I don’t know what to do.” Your voice breaks, hating to be sick but most of all your headache is stressing you out and it’s the reason you can’t sleep.

“Oh, darling, we’ll get you sorted, don’t worry. I brought medicine.”

Matty turns around and looks into your cup which is almost empty.

“There, why don’t you drink up, it’ll help.”

“Tastes disgusting.”

Matty chuckles, “that’s the best medicine though.”

“Mhm,” you roll your eyes but take the cup from him to drink up, chugging all the liquid down.

“That’s my girl, I’ll make you another one.”

You groan but he doesn’t let you argue and walks back into the kitchen.

You hear the familiar sounds of the kettle being filled again, the soft clink of a spoon against a cup. A few minutes later, he returns with another steaming mug of tea in one hand and a glass of water in the other.

“I know you don’t want to, but you’ve got to stay hydrated,” he says, handing you the glass of water along with a couple of pills. “These will help with your headache. Go on, take them.”

You take the pills and swallow them with the water, the cool liquid a welcome relief after the bitter tea. Matty watches you with concern, waiting until you’ve finished every last drop before he sets the empty glass on the table.

“Good job, love,” he murmurs, his fingers brushing lightly over your hair. He hands you the second mug of tea. “One more, yeah? Then you can sleep.”

You look at him with tired eyes, knowing there’s no point in arguing. He’s right; the tea might taste awful, but it does make you feel better. So you take the mug and start sipping again, while Matty sits beside you, his hand resting on your knee, a quiet but comforting presence.

“Shit, m’sorry by the way,” you whisper through the cup.

“Why’s that?”

“You invited the boys for dinner and I ruined your plans.”

Matty rolls his eyes and grabs your hand, “babe, you’re not ruining anything. You’re more important than some dinner with my mates ‘specially because we see each other every week anyway.”

You melt and give him a small smile, “thank you.”

“Not for that. I already sent a text into the group chat that you’re really sick and they understand. We’ll just have to postpone our dinner.”

“Yeah.”

“Come here,” he says, opening his arms and scootching back a bit.

You’re too tired to lift your body so you just change your position to your face laying on his lap, your body in a fetus position and your hands fiddling with his.

“You’re beautiful,” Matty says, his free hand going through your hair, making you hum at his gentleness.

“You’re such a liar.”

“Oi, m’not. You’re always beautiful, love, even when you’re miserable like this.”

Matty’s hand slides down to your neck, cupping it before smoothing a deep circle into it with his thumb. It makes you melt a little.

“How’s your head doing? The almotriptan working yet?”

“Not fully.”

Matty hums, “if you sleep now you’ll wake up without pain.”

“You think?”

“M’sure.”

"Close your eyes, love," Matty murmurs softly, his voice a gentle lullaby. His fingers weaving through the strands with a soothing rhythm. "You’ve done enough. Just sleep.”

His thumb brushes lightly over your skin in a repetitive, comforting motion. The tenderness in his touch makes your chest tighten with affection, even as exhaustion pulls you deeper into rest.

Matty leans down, pressing a soft kiss to your temple. "I’m not going anywhere, I’ll be right here when you wake up. I’ve got you."

His hand continues its slow, comforting strokes through your hair, while the thumb of his other hand traces gentle patterns on your skin. The rhythmic motion, combined with his soothing words, finally eases you into a peaceful sleep, your fingers still entwined with his.

Unfortunately an hour later you’re woken by your hot flashes, you’re kicking the blanket off of you, sweat running down your back.

You groan loudly, your head no longer on your boyfriend’s lap.

“Matty?” You call out, your eyes closed.

You hear footsteps and then you open your eyes to Matty in your favorite blue shirt.

“You’re awake. Everything alright?”

“Nothings alright, fuck,” you sigh. “I’m too hot and then too cold and then too hot.”

“Shit. I think you’re proper sick, darling,” he takes the blanket of the floor and folds it together. “I think it’s best if we go to the doctors tomorrow.”

You let a whine slip out of your mouth followed by a “don’t want to.”

“You have to though, I promise you’ll feel better.”

“I want to feel better now.”

“Maybe a bath will help? It’ll cool you down a bit and relax your muscles."

You nod slowly, too tired to argue, and Matty gives you a reassuring smile. "Alright, I’ll run the bath for you. While I’m getting everything ready, I want you to drink more water, yeah? And take a Tylenol. We need to get that fever down."

He helps you sit up fully on the couch, wrapping a blanket around your shoulders. He hands you a glass of water and a Tylenol from the pack he bought earlier. "Go on, drink up," he encourages softly, pressing a kiss to your temple before heading to the bathroom.

As you sip the water, the coolness of the liquid soothes your parched throat, though it does little to ease the heat radiating from your skin. You swallow the Tylenol with a grimace, leaning back against the couch, feeling the tension in your body slowly begin to ease. You can hear the sound of water running in the bathroom, Matty moving about as he prepares everything.

Matty helps you to your feet, supporting most of your weight as you enter the dimly lit bathroom. He lowers you to the edge of the bath and you look around while he turns to shut the door. Candles light the room, their lavender scent filling the air. Soft music is playing. You dip a finger into the water and find it pleasantly warm.

Matty crouches before you to help you get undressed, pulling your pants down and socks off while you throw your sweater over your head.

“Are you getting in with me?” You ask as you open your bra.

“Course, if you want me to,” Matty answers.

You nod, the idea bringing you comfort as Matty helps you to stand. He gets rid of his own clothes and then he helps you into the water, holding your hands as you lower yourself into the warm embrace of the bath. It feels amazing on your sore muscles, and you sigh contentedly.

After a moment, Matty slips in behind you, drawing you to his chest in the water which looks orange because of the bathing bomb Matty threw in.

You shift so Matty is almost cradling you in his arms, knees tucked up, arms around your waist, face pressed into the crook of your neck. One of Matty’s arms wrapped around your waist, the other resting on your back, holding you rather protectively. He sighs and rubs his finger gently though the skin on your waist.

“Comfortable?” He asks

You nod against him, “you?”

“Yeah,” Matty kisses your forehead gently, lips lingering on your warm skin for a moment. You nuzzles your face deeper into Matty’s neck, soft sighs coming from you mouth.

“Is there anything else I can do to make you more comfortable?” Matty asks, his heart aching for the girl who meant everything to him.

“Just talk to me, maybe?” You ask with a light chuckle “And also maybe... play with my hair again?”

Matty laughs and shifts his hand from your back, sliding it up into your hair, fingers carding through the soft strands behind your ears, occasionally rubbing his thumb over the ear itself to elicit a louder, happier sigh.

“When’s the last time we bathed together?” He asks, “too long if you ask me. I fucking love bathing.”

You smiles against his neck and warmth fills your heart. He tucks his face down into your hair and sighs happily.

Matty’s heart always hurts when you’re sick like this, it always had.

Matty clutches you tighter his her chest and kisses the top of your head.

"I love you, babe," he says softly.

"I love you too, Matty," you respond "so much.”

Matty giggles at your sleepy voice.

"Get some rest okay? You need it.”

[seasidefallenangel]

game au: voicelines 2

notes: fluff, paralive game au, no content warnings, sequel to this based off these two asks ; i didn't do allen because i dislike him lol and couldn't grasp his character

༄ anne faulkner

⁀➷ about their lover:

“oh! what shade of purple do you think is nicer? my partner said they love the way i look in it, so i’ve been buying more clothes recently. the way they fawn over me is so cute!”

⁀➷ fleeting memories:

“isn’t this picture so cute?! i know polaroids are such old tech, but they’re still fun to use. this one was after our third date. they kept losing at the ring toss game trying to win me a stuffed animal, so we just went to the store and bought matching ones together. i think it’s much more special that way.”

⁀➷ true self:

“ah, this is so embarrassing. i hate for you to see me crying.

my mother called and i’m sure you can figure out how that goes. honestly, when i first decided who i wanted to be, my partner was the only one who accepted me with no questions. i think i loved them well before that, but that moment really solidified it, you know?”

⁀➷ the future:

“do you think it’s too soon to design my wedding dress? aha, i know, i know. but it’s not as if i’d marry anyone else. normally i hate thinking about the future - i just like living in the moment, but how can i not be romantic when they’re the one involved?”

༄ hajun yeon

⁀➷ about their lover:

“surely you’re not thinking about making a move on my partner, right? a downgrade such as that is a bit much, even for them.”

⁀➷ fleeting memories:

“honestly, they’re far too sentimental. you’d think it’d kill them to think with their brain instead of their heart for once. they still keep the ticket stub from our first date in their wallet. how foolish can someone get?”

⁀➷ unconventional relationship:

“... what an idiot.

eavesdropping? you should mind your business better, you know? i’m talking about my partner, but i suppose that comment applies to you as well. regardless, what kind of person blushes when they’re insulted? the meaner i get, the more they become infatuated with me. i’ve never seen someone with less survival skills than them.”

⁀➷ the future:

“i truly pray they’re not foolish enough to expect marriage from me. there’s not much the lesser yeon can offer them anyway. i doubt my parents would even bother showing their faces at the ceremony. hm? can you tell me exactly where i said i have no interest in it? i’m simply pointing out the illogical facets of the idea.”

༄ nayuta yatonokami

⁀➷ about their lover: 

“hey. if you were matching things with your partner, something subtle is better, right? i used to think this stuff is kinda lame, but i guess it’s nice when it’s with them.”

⁀➷ fleeting memories:

“kanata and i prefer not to live in the past. nothing good happened back then anyway. well, aside from meeting my partner. even compared to shiki, something about them was just different when we clicked. i’ve never been that lucky in life, but if meeting them was the sacrifice i had to make, then i’d do it over again.”

⁀➷  dress-up:

“blue is a better compliment… green? yellow is too invasive - oh. i didn’t hear you come in. you can leave it on the counter, thanks.

hm? oh, my partner’s been wanting to change up their style a bit but didn’t know where to start. i figured i could help them out a bit since it’s something i already enjoy. huh? i didn’t think it was that big of a deal, but they said the same thing as you. it’s not like i mind at all, especially for them.”

⁀➷ the future:

“god, i love my partner but they kept me up all night watching cheesy rom-coms. we made fun of them most of the time, but some they seemed interested in certain things. maybe i should… nevermind. i don’t wanna move too fast. we’re still young, you know? but with that said, i still want them in my life forever. maybe it wouldn’t be all that bad.”

༄ kenta mikoshiba

⁀➷  about their lover: 

“fuck off and eat shit, stupid. just cause i’m stuck in this place doesn’t mean they’re up for grabs. ‘sides, they'd never fucking go for you.”

⁀➷ fleeting memories:

“ugh, i’d rather get shot than think about middle school. the only good thing about it was meeting that idiot. you should’ve seen their math scores. totally fucking useless. they’re lucky i was nice enough to help them. well, that and the fact they paid me to tutor them.”

⁀➷  co-op:

“ack, no - to the right, dumbass! we need healing more than buffing right now. i’ll cover you but don’t fucking jump into the middle of fire. god, you fucking suck at this game. 

ha? the fuck do you want?! oh, it’s late already. just deal for a few more minutes. i’m tryna make my partner suck less shit than normal at this. d’ya have any idea how hard it is to be the brains of this relationship?! gh! you weren’t supposed to hear that - no, i think you’re smart. quit yelling at me!”

⁀➷  the future:

“you’re either braindead or a stupid ass idealist if you think we’ve talked about any sort of future together. i’m fucking trapped in this shithole, genius. i still don’t even know when my sentence is supposed to be up. pfft, as if i’m breaking up with them before that. ugh, i hate thinking about all that gushy adult shit anyway.”