#and inevitably feeling disappointed when they don’t hit the mark

[urbanfiltered]

💔

[thesassypadawan]

Tag 2 (David x FemReader)

Summary:  Tag.  A simple fun game of back and forth, except when it comes to your ‘jumping’ loving boyfriend.  Who's bent the rules; turning it into a one-way match of ‘whenever, wherever’…even if you’re having a spooky date night.

Warnings: 18+ (mdni), because there’s sooo much of the smut.  Public smex, fun from behind, ‘tag’, pointy hay bales, overgrown goblins, and…David's fat, long dick.

Notes: Happy Kinktober all you, lovelies! 🖤🧡 (Hope you also enjoy Tag 1!)

-  A phantom tweak of your nipples here…an invisible smack, pinch to each plump cheek there…even the occasional ghostly squeeze to your pert mound…

-  That’s how your journey through the winding, seemingly endless pathways of the haunted corn maze has been progressing.  The very one your ‘jump’ happy, horny boyfriend so eagerly and surprisingly suggested to do for a spookishly delightful date night.  Oh, how much of a foolish mortal you truly were…

-  Wandering cautiously down one of the more darkened, deserted trails; your ears strain, eyes sweep the shadows.  On guard, overanalyzing every creak of the stalks or frightful decoration you pass.  The whole time watching, waiting for the familiar…the inevitable…

-  Burst of light…warm chest presses to your chilled form…strong arms encircle your waist…and a pair of lips ghost the shell of your ear.  “Boo to you.”

-  “Vid,” you squeak.  Trying and failing miserably at hiding your surprise.  Undoubtedly giving him the satisfaction of scaring you…a little.  “So freaking cheesy.”

-  “Yeah, but ya know ya love it,” he chuckles into the crook of your neck.  Big hand squeezing your hip, wandering lower.  Fingers playing with, tugging on the hem of your rather skippy skirt.  “Bout as much as I do seein’ ya in this, with them damn stomp-stomp boots of yours.  And…”

-  You can practically feel his grin growing bigger against your skin; dick hardening, poking at your plush bottom.  And you can’t help but mimic his enthusiasm; wiggling just enough to make him twitch, wicked smile on your face.  “All right…  What else you, overgrown gremlin?”

-  “And…”  Placing, trailing kisses; nipping, leaving a blood red mark.  He winds around, captures your wrists; gripping them tightly, pinning them easily behind your back.  “…tag.”

-  Pushing you towards the nearby hay bales, David practically flings you down onto them.  Spreading your legs wide, hiking up that slutty skirt…exposing your thong-clad ass to the crisp night air.

-  “Really?  The black lace ones?”  He growls, hooking his thumb underneath the thin piece of fabric…  “With that damn bat bow?”  …pulling it taunt, letting it…  “You’re sure askin’ for it.”  …snap.

-  Teeth sink into your bottom lip, forcing back a squeal.  As another couple walks unknowingly by…as your squishy globes jiggle and bounce from the recoil.  Walls fluttering, droplets of slick trickling down your full thigh.

-  “Thou-thought they looked c-cute,” you whimper once the cost is clear.  Wiggling, trying to get yourself more comfortable.  Hoodie riding up, dried grass scrapping and scratching at your soft stomach.

-  “They are, but they look cuter like this.”  Yanking them to the side roughly; almost breaking the delicate, drenched string.  He plunges two fingers into your greedy hole; curling, pumping…teasing, hitting that small bundle of nerves.  “Don’t ya think?”

-  Despite your best efforts, a cry flies from your mouth.  “Y-yes…yes!!”  And your face heats, burns bright from embarrassment.  While you strain to hear any fast-approaching footsteps or voices nearby.    

-  Only to be met with the chirp of crickets…gentle tinkling of metal…rustle of denim.  The low whine of disappointment bubbling from your throat when he removes his digits.  The loud gasp of pleasure being punched from your lungs when he replaces them with, slams his fat cock into you.

-  One hand grasps at your hip, pulling you harshly back to meet his strong thrusts.  “What’s the matter, angel?”  Your tender flesh rubbing across the course, sharp stems; small cuts forming, appearing…stinging. “Cat got your tongue?”

-  The other grabs hold of your wrists again, using them to haul you up just enough to pound into you faster and deeper.  Bullying and bruising your poor cervix with every bounce.  “Come on, let them hear ya.” 

-  Sound of skin slapping wetly, lewdly echoing throughout the darkened sky.  Along with his heavy grunts, your muffled pants…the thuds of sneakers on dirt, faint laughter.  “Make them think there’s a fuckin’ banshee over here.”

-  Driving hard one last time, burying himself to the hilt.  Your back arches, whole body tenses.  Clamping, gummy walls flexing and clenching around him.  Moans and wails flying from your lips as you crash completely, gushing all over.  “Vid…Da-DAVID!!”

-  While he growls, paints your insides ghost white.  “That’s it let them know who bumped ya in the night.”

-  Thuds draw closer, laughter louder…

-  Bringing you in closer, pressing you to his chest.  He bucks weakly for a few more moments, coming down from his own high.  “Sorry to cut this short, but…”  Peppering your neck in warm kisses, hot breath tickling it.  “Gotta jump.  See ya at the exit, my bad little ghoul…”

-  Smacking your ass firmly, disappearing in another flash of light.  David leaves you standing there.  Scrambling to rearrange yourself…to come up with the lame lie for the blissfully unaware couple that finds you.  Trying to play off the fact that the backside of your skirt wasn’t stained with his ectoplasm…or running down your leg, dribbling onto your ‘stomp-stomp’ boots.  “It was nothing, just got scared by some overgrown gremlin.”

Tag List: @espinathena-17, @myheartwillgoon2022, @laylaplease, @princessswifie, @kenobiskywalker16, @loverforoldermen, @jediavengers, @anisangeldust, @fredswrite, @t03soup, @haydensbbg, @humongouscatfest, @decaffeinatedunicorn, @sythethecarrot, @xhunnybeeex, @skyguys-princess

[randombush3]

Sunday Morning

florence pugh x footballer!reader

summary: based off the Maroon 5 song ‘Sunday Morning’

words: 1470

warnings: gets a little bit angsty

notes: just a little in-between-er while i work on the lengthier, juicier stuff. And absolutely NOT proofread x

This is rare.

Waking up to a bed with both of you in it. Not needing to attack the day ahead. Being allowed to listen to the rain falling, softly beating against the windows of your bedroom.

Sunday mornings like this are so special.

You yawn as you slowly open your eyes, skin prickling. Expecting it but feeling betrayed nonetheless, you glance at where the covers should be, knowing they’re bundled around your girlfriend because she gets so cold during the night ever since you developed that habit of rolling over in your sleep. You steal what’s yours back, not waking her but not minding if she stirs. She makes a quiet noise as your cooler skin slots beside her furnace, but this is the only sign of life.

Clouds shroud the light that briefly illuminated the bedroom, and you drift off once again, this time, with your girlfriend twisting to fit the mould you are in, burying her face between the pillows and your arm.

You struggle to remember the last time you woke up like this. You don’t live here half the time, having to find ways to split time between football and actually having a life. Things just get so crazy, and living the life you have built with Flo gets hard to do. She knows you try, and is also to blame when it comes to the lack of occupation your shared apartment has at times.

Every plane ticket you buy to lengthen the distance is bought because you will gladly hit the road, get up and go, if it means that someday you will be led back to her. You can leave easily because you know you will be coming back, and you know that when you head on a flight bound for wherever she is, you are returning home.

Thinking back to the week you’ve had — the tears you’ve shed, the stress, the pain — this may have been all you needed. To hold her again. To love her and to touch her. After all, in the darkness, she is all you see. The light at the end of a tunnel, the encapsulating warmth that draws patterns over your skin and marks you as hers and only hers forever. The happy ending to a horrific seven days.

Your musings must have woken her. Maybe you were thinking too loud.

She murmurs something unintelligible, eyes half-open but indefinitely looking at you. Then, louder, she brushes her hand over your hip, touch feather-light and careful, saying your name wistfully. You are quickly reminded that this day-off has come about due to a fractured ankle, a pang of grief stabbing into your heart like a blunt knife, forced through. You’ve been allowed three days to process and make sure you’re in the correct mental state to even begin recovery. She held you last night while you cried, and asks you again how you are feeling.It is a question commonly used in your relationship, but packs more meaning right now. There are a lot of feelings, obviously.

“I want to do something today,” you reply quietly, not needing to raise your voice barely above a whisper. Such is the tranquillity of two women alone in bed together. (Unless you happen to be doing something else — then forget that statement.) “So I don’t become a lump on the sofa.”

She chuckles, shaking her head. “Rest your bones with me right now,” she whispers, amusement not hidden at all. “And then why don’t we go for brunch later on?”

“Yeah, okay,” you mumble, disappointed once more by the restrictions in place. You don’t bring your crutches into the bedroom for fear they’ll haunt you while you dream. “I can drive us to that place in Greenwich. I’ll go slowly.” It’s a desperate attempt.

Her reply is instantaneous. “Absolutely not.” The attempt fails like it inevitably would. “Can we watch TV? I’ll grab your crutches.” And with that, you start hobbling away to the kitchen to prove you can move on your own, and get tricked into making her coffee. You never want to leave.

Three weeks later, she visits you in Barcelona. Your apartment here is your own, empty of things that smell like her. She changes that quickly, taking over every surface with things she somehow managed to fit in her suitcase, spreading out her shit until you can barely find your toothbrush. You know that brands send her their products to try, but don’t hesitate to remind her she doesn’t have to actually use them. You’re sure your bathroom cabinet might fall off the wall with how full it is.

It’s Sunday again, the fourth day of her trip, but the first day of doing nothing. There's quite a bit to do and see in the city, and she’s forced you to show her around. You get a lie in today because the girls have a game later. You can’t play for another four weeks at the very least, but have promised to watch and support them. Even if the thought of playing still makes your fists clench and your breath hitch. How are you supposed to not do what you were born to do? It’s your destiny, your fate, and a stupid ankle shouldn’t have gotten in the way of that. (But it did.)

“Morning,” she says, blinking in order to adjust her eyes to the light pouring through the blinds. “What time is it?”

You shrug, unable to check because your girlfriend is on top of you and your phone is too far away. “I know that you said you didn’t want to—”

“I recall you agreeing,” she interrupts indignantly.

“Right.” You smile. “I’m really feeling much better; my ankle doesn’t even hurt. So… we can—you know?”

“Feeling frisky?” she teases, sitting up, straddling you. Your fingers trace her every outline, feeling like artwork. Irreplaceable. You would definitely hang her up in a museum. (If she were a painted picture, not a person. No — that would be unethical.)

Flo leans down and brushes her lips against yours, half expecting you to have teeth waiting there for her. You take it slowly at first, however, aware of how big a lie your update on your ankle is.

You’re interrupted by the buzz of the bell at the entrance. Lucy and Keira are asking to be let up, considering they don’t have to start preparing for another two hours. They know Flo’s round, which typically means to leave you the fuck alone, but Lucy says she brought coffees and wants to talk to her favourite person. It makes you and Keira both feel amazing when the person she means is Flo. Really amazing.

With a sigh, you let them up, and enjoy the rest of the day in the shadow of your girlfriend.

Then, when Flo flies back to England and you’re left alone, you suddenly feel out of place and unwanted. It seems the one good thing about you — football — has been snuffed out with a small breath, and there is a crushing weight on your chest all the time. Maybe it has been there all along. Maybe Flo helps you not to notice.

With her gone, all you can do is notice. It consumes you to the point where you stop charging your phone and leaving your flat and attending your recovery sessions. It’s flagged up immediately by the club, who can fix the work-related problems, but you don’t tell anyone about the radio-silence Flo is on the other end of. The poor woman has to reach out to your friends to make sure you’re alive.

After a week, you send her a text; a brief hello. She responds quickly, and you reply hours later. She doesn’t text back for a day. And then you sway back and forth like branches in a storm, stable and unsteady. The weather changes, and you’re still together when the storm ends.

The arguments happen while you are in separate countries, and end within two weeks. The next time you see her, you’ve been on good terms, though some wounds are still fresh. Flo knows that you are going through a time where living is becoming increasingly harder to do, especially since your recovery period has been extended due to your blip in attendance.

Currently, you’re waiting for your plane to taxi onto the runway. It’s raining in Barcelona and you’re not supposed to have any time off, but as you stare out through the glass oval of a window, you swear you catch a glimpse of Flo in the reflection. It’s Sunday morning, and the sun hasn’t risen yet, and you’re hoping your heartbeat emits a signal for Flo. Something that sings ‘I’m coming back to you’. You will always find a way to bring yourself back to her.

tags: @pewpughpew @ridleypugh @jeyramarie @flosbelova @kassies-take @delfiore @yelenabelovasbxtch @xsophiesx @slut4milfs69 @sunshadesnrainbowz @wandasbb @karsonromanoff

[scottwbeattie]

Review: Captain America Epic Collection 14: The Captain

Some Really Great Plotting

I have always considered myself to be a big Cap fan, yet had only read the Brubaker and Remender runs, plus some of the Nick Spencer run and parts of the Silver Age material, so I really wanted to read more. Given that Mark Gruenwald’s run on the character is generally regarded as one of the high points of the title, I came into this volume with high expectations, and, for the most part, I wasn’t disappointed.

From the outset, it’s important to note that although Gruenwald was an excellent plotter, he was not a great writer of dialogue. He had an encyclopedic knowledge of Marvel continuity that he loved to incorporate into his stories, however, instead of using narration boxes to offer recaps, characters relate it to one another, and the result is always clunky. Gruenwald also has a great grasp on the characters, but they are all saddled with wooden dialogue at various points, especially Cap when he’s giving impromptu speeches. The Captain also includes Iron Man #228, and, to be honest, it creates an unflattering comparison for Gruenwald when you see how much better the dialogue is for the same characters when it’s written by David Micheline and Bob Layton. That said, the story in The Captain is so good that wooden dialogue can only weigh it down so much.

When the volume opens, Steve Rogers has just quit as Captain America after coming into conflict with the committee that oversees him. The first few issues are solely dedicated to establishing the new Captain (John Walker, formerly Super-Patriot). Only later does the title go back to Steve Rogers, who takes on the identity as the Captain in order to continue to help any way that he can.

I really like the way that Gruenwald writes John Walker. At first he’s dismissive of his predecessor, thinking that he’s an outdated relic, only to realize how difficult it is to fill those shoes. My understanding is that Walker is later written as psychotic, but here he’s a guy who is genuinely doing his best to live up the ideal but is temperamentally unsuited for it. His story becomes tragic rather than villainous as severe emotional trauma drives him over the edge and makes him more violent and excessive. Even his inevitable confrontation with Steve Rogers is not something that either of them wanted. That said, once the two lock up, the story really comes alive as they deliver haymaker after haymaker to each other.

The extended storyline involving the Serpent Society was another highlight. The idea of a villains’ trade union, which faces internal conflict to the point where one side has to make a desperation call to their superhero antagonist, is very clever, and Gruenwald does a lot with it. I also like the idea of Diamondback being a romantic interest for Steve, which hits a lot of the same notes as Batman and Catwoman, but with a character who is even more of a paragon in his universe in Captain America. My only complaint was that I didn’t really get a feel for most of the individuals in the Serpent Society, but I also have yet to read any of Gruenwald’s run before or after this volume.

Tom Morgan and Kieron Dwyer split the art duties in this volume. Both of them are very meat-and-potatoes; the art is perfectly solid but it doesn’t stand out. It’s probably just as well, given that there are a few extremely violent moments in this volume, and I don’t know if a more graphic style would have added to them or taken away from them. I do wonder, however, if this arc would get more acclaim from casual readers if the art were more stylized. One of the advantages that Brubaker’s run has over Gruenwald’s is that the art was very striking with its moody color palettes and gritty feel.

I’m quite curious to see where Gruenwald takes the title in the next volume. There’s only one (admittedly, major) dangling plot thread, so it will be interesting to see if he follows up on that immediately or starts a brand-new plot. As for this volume, it does live up to most of its hype, and it’s also a very easy entry point for anyone wanting to read some of the better Captain America comics.

[captains-simp]

hey! so i love wanda and i was wondering if you could write one kind of enemies to lovers or something like that where reader and wanda don't get along well, jealous scene or maybe a very suggestive fight. very angst but happy fluffy ending please

Enemies to lovers owns my whole gay heart and I CANNOT write it without there being sexual tension so xksksjsks smut alert

@g-cordelia hope it's okay to combine your request with this too so there's a healthy dose of angst and fluff with it

"Please don't go."

"Don't you fucking lie to me."

Warnings: choking, fingering, spanking, strap on sex, mentions of oral and hints at mild injury

6k words

[ masterlist ]

Buy me a coffee ☕

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

"Your actions jeopardised the whole mission." Steve said sternly before raising his voice when he saw he received no reaction from you or the redhead. "Whatever is going on between you has to stop!"

"You say that like it's ever been any different." Natasha added.

The pair that usually felt like the protective big brother and sister of the team where acing the role of disappointed parents. Admittedly that did make you feel bad, but Wanda showed no signs of giving an apology and you would be damned if you did first.

Natasha and Steve waited for any kind of response from either of you and got nothing. You and Wanda continued to glare at each other from opposite sides of the table, your stubnorness stopping either of you from looking at the two standing at the head of the table.

"Just write up your reports." Steve sighed, giving into the tension of the room before anyone else. If it had been just you, Wanda and Natasha there was no telling how long you'd be in there.

You both got up from the table at the same time, still refusing to break eye contact.

"Y/n stay behind a minute." Oh so they're switching it up to disappointed teachers now. Your attention fell to Steve in a look of confusion although that didn't mean you missed the smirk that played on the corner of Wanda's lips. You cursed her like a sailor in your head and hoped she heard but her back was to you and she was strolling out the room.

"I thought you guys were getting better." Steve sighed as he leant against the table.

"We were when we didn't have to talk to each other." You said honestly. There had been a few weeks prior where you and Wanda had had no missions together and therefore had no reason to talk or train with one another.

"You can't resort to avoiding each other as a way to solve your problems. All that does is make things escalate even more when you're actually together which will inevitably happen. Because believe it or not you two are on the same side and have to act like it." Natasha said sternly. You stared down at the table and thought about how how her words were. But it wasn't like you had that warning before.

When the pair infront of you knew you weren't going to say anything in response Steve filled the silence once again. "You're both suspended from missions until you can learn to work together." He decided.

"What?!" You cried as you snapped your head towards them and stood up. "You can't be serious."

"Deadly." Natasha said. You looked frantically between the two in disbelief.

"Alright." You said finally and clenched your jaw. You turned around and left the room without objection from the two Avengers, heading straight towards Wanda's room.

You never really knew why you and Wanda never got on. Maybe it was because she reminded you so much of the popular girls in high school you always envied while wanting them in your bed...no, it definetly couldn't be that. You just didn't know what.

It didn't take long to get there when you were walking like you were out for blood, that wouldn't be an unexpected result of what you planned. You banged on her door several times in a closed fist so it didn't take her long to answer.

She looked concerned when she opened the door and as soon as she realised it was you that same smirk from the meeting room fell back into place.

"Did they ground you?" She asked as she leant against the doorframe.

"Suspended." You spat. A shit eating grin started to appear but you wiped that off her face instantly. "Both of us."

"What the fuck? I didn't-"

"Yes you fucking did and now I'm paying for it too. You wanna know the best part? We can't go back in the field until we can work together nicely." You said bitterly.

"Why don't they just keep us on separate missions?"

"You can go ask them that later. Right now we're training." You said simply and you grabbed her forearm and pulled her out of her room down the corridor.

"We just got back." Wanda argued but followed you anyway after slapping your hand off her.

"Not prepared to put the work in, witchy?" You mocked, not looking at her as you marched through the compound.

"Don't call me that?" Wanda warned as she kept your pace.

"What are you gonna do? Read my mind?" You continued to taunt as you arrived in the gym and made your way to the mats.

Wanda put her red jacket on the floor and stepped away to take up her position as she eyed you. "I could snap all your bones into pieces so small they could be mistaken for ash." Wanda said stoicly.

"I don't think that's gonna get you another mission." You replied calmly, knowing that while there was a truth to Wanda's words she would never give you more than a split lip or bloody nose in the worst training sessions.

"Don't be a smartass y/n, it doesn't suit you." Your jaw clenched at her words.

Without warning, the entirety of your right arm lit up in flames and was aimed at Wanda in an instant.

You sent a wave of fire her way that she swiftly engulfed in her powers and sent back towards you. She looked less than impressed from your warningless attack.

"That was tacky." She said.

"I know, seemed fitting for you." You grinned but stopped when the red mist surrounded your body and lifted you into the air before a larger wave of fire was sent hurtling down to the redhead. The wall of fire blocked her view of you and subsequently dropped you to the ground as she dealt with the flames.

As soon as you landed and the fire parted you sent another blast Wanda's way only for her to do the exact same thing. You both ducked at the same time, your powers hitting opposite walls and leaving marks Tony would be on your asses about when he found out.

Wanda was clearly thinking the same thing. "We can't use our powers in an enclosed space, especially not yours." She said, her accent thickly woven into her voice.

"Okay then, let's see if Natasha's lessons have paid off." You said as you raised your fists and got into your defensive stance. Wanda mirrored you the way she had been taught and narrowed her eyes.

"They definelty have." She insisted as her eyes flickered over your form to try and identify your weak points already in a very obvious way.

"Just try to keep up." You mocked and swiftly moved to swipe her legs out from under her but she was surprisingly prepared. She jumped up to avoid your attack and kicked her leg out mid air and landed it on the center of your chest. You stumbled back in shock while Wanda looked very proud of herself. The last time you saw Wanda train it was clear she wasn't familiar with close range hand to hand combat. You hadn't expected her to improve so significantly in such a short amount of time.

You gritted your teeth and went for her stomach this time which she easily avoided but wasn't expecting another attack to follow so quickly. She blocked the continuous blows from you until you saw your moments and kicked one of her legs out from under her. Your mistake was thinking you succeeded the moment she was down because she spun around and kicked both of your legs out. You caught yourself partly as Wanda stood up so you were on kneeling.

Wanda's smirk was quick to take place when she saw your position, not missing the opportunity. "You look good when you're on your knees." She quipped.

Your eyes widened at her boldness and a heat rose up your neck that you knew wasn't your powers. You rolled back on the balls of your feet and swiftly stood up to look anywhere but the smug redhead infront of you.

"No snarky remark for that?" She challenged and you charged at her again. Anger feuled your attacks making them miscordinated and all round bad.

"Shut the fuck up, Maximoff." You huffed and made her grin even more at the clear signs that she was getting to you.

One of your punches was pushed to the side and Wanda took the chance to show you just how much she had learnt from Nat. You weren't entirely sure how she even did it it was so quick. Your arm was outstretched behind your back painfully due to Wanda's unrelenting grip on it and made it that much easier to push one of your legs down onto the floor. She held you like that for longer than necessary, soaking up the view of you struggling in her grasp.

"Get off." You snapped and winced when she pulled your arm back more.

"What's the magic word?" She teased.

"Now." You demanded. She tutted and pulled harder. "Maximoff!" You ordered through the pain. She leaned down beside you as her voice dropped to a low whisper.

"Beg." It was one word but you couldn't deny the effect it had on you. It was as though her light breath on your ear shot throughout your body and settled in a place you really didn't want it to.

You were about to object and tell her to stop being a bitch but her grip tightened and she pulled to a point where you thought your arm might just snap off under any more pressure.

"Please." You cried through gritted teeth. She instantly let go all too quickly and you collapsed onto the mat on your front. You heard her chuckle menacingly but cut herself off when Nat appeared in the doorway.

"We told you to write up your reports, not train." Natasha scolded as she watched you massage your shoulder and glare at Wanda.

"Sorry, just got a bit carried away." Wanda smiled, her innocent and sweet act that she put up for everyone except you returning. "Y/n's had enough now anyway." She smirked to herself.

"Fucking psycho." You muttered loud enough for her to hear but not Nat. Her jaw visibly clenched from that making you revel in the small victory as you finally got up from the mat.

"Just get on with the reports." Nat sighed and turned to leave as Wanda called out.

"On it."

"Aww, you trying to be a good girl, Maximoff?" You mocked as the pain subsided and your need to overrule what had happened came through.

"I don't have the time to stress over that, not when I'm busy putting brats in their place." Wanda said as she advanced towards you with a look you had only ever seen aimed at those you were fighting against.

"What?" You whispered as you backed up and felt your back hit the wall. Wanda's hand came up suddenly and wrapped itself around your throat firmly and cut off your breathing. Your eyes widened as you grabbed at her hands but she didn't budge. She looked amused at your efforts as her head tilted slightly to the side.

"And you certainly need to learn your place." She took her hand away and left you gasping for air for a split second before grabbing your arm and pulling you out of the gym.

You stumbled a little as you tried to keep up with Wanda's long strides you could usually match. Your whole body was already trembling in anticipation, more so by the tension filled silence between you both as you travelled through the compound and ended up outside the redhead's room.

She opened her door and shoved you into her room swiftly. You didn't have much chance to take in your surroundings because the Sokovian gripped the back of your neck and forced you to lay on your stomach on her bed.

She made quick work of your clothes, discarding them to some soon forgotten about corner.

You turned your head to the side and gripped the sheets as you felt Wanda's slim fingers trialing up the back of your thighs before she gripped them roughly and forced them apart and lifted your lower half up. Her fingers returned and glided along your drippikg folds, collecting your arousal as she reveled in the effect she had on you.

"What was it that made you this wet, slut? Was it being on your knees for me? Begging me? Or did you enjoy the pain? I bet you enjoyed me choking you too." She chuckled darkly and didn't wait for you to respond.

She slipped two fingers inside your soaking cunt without warning making you gasp out in pleasure. Her fingers curled inside you beautifully, brushing some kind of nerve ending every second they were buried inside you. She had you a moaning, quivering mess in no time.

"Wanda...fuck! Right there, oh God!" She snickered against your skin as she worked her fingers expertly. Even then she wanted to test you. Well it was more that she was setting you up for failure.

"Shut the fuck up. I don't want to hear another sound from that whiny mouth." She ordered and you couldn't help but shiver from her dominant nature.

Of course it didn't last long. Her fingers felt so damn perfect inside you and you couldn't help but moan at the unspeakable pleasure.

She brought her hand down fast and landed it on your ass with a harsh smack that echoed through the room. She did it to both of your asscheeks until they were bright red and you were trembling. The sadistic redhead didn't stop there, she continued to rain down smacks that edged you further to your edge with the pleasurable pain.

Soon, you were moaning into the air as you came around Wanda's slim fingers, desperatly clenching around them in an attempt to prolong the pleasure. Thankfully, she kept pumping her fingers inside you, not caring when the overstimulation kicked in. She even started scissoring her fingers inside you, stretching your walls in a way that has you whimper loudly.

"Gotta stretch you a little to get you ready for my piece, sweetheart." She said in a sinister tone. "There's no way you'd be able to take it otherwise, it's already going to reck you with its size." She husked into your ear and withdrew her fingers, spanking you again when you whined.

Wanda got off the bed and disappeared into her closet, shortly returning with a large strap secured around her waist and pointed at you. You whimpered at the sight of it, not sure you could handle its size.

The Sokovian kneeled behind you and gripped your hips with both her hands as she lined up the strap with your entrance.

"I'm going to fill you up so nicely, Princess. Gonna have your cumming in no time." She husked, her voice dripping with lust.

A scream was ripped from your throat when Wanda thrust the entirety of the strap into your pussy. She set about her harsh, abusing pace instantly and preened at the sound of the pleasure filled cries that left you.

She grabbed a fistful of your hair and slammed your head down into the pillows on your side do she could still hear all of your desperate moans. The rough action earned the redhead a cry of her name.

Her pace was unrelenting, everytime she thrust back into you she somehow managed to hit deeper, pounding the toy against the most sensitive and pleasurable part of your cunt.

"Mommy!" You moaned loudly, not realising your slip up until the words left your lips. Your eyes widened and you feared Wanda's response, but what you got was a smack from the redhead that stung your ass in the best way. Her fucked you with increasing vigor too, wanting you title to spill from your lips again. And it did. Over and over, each time going straight to Wanda's pussy.

"Fuck, I'm gonna cum." You whimpered as you gripped onto the sheets tighter to prepare yourself for your release. But Wanda pulled the strap out the the very tip and held it there as she leant over to whisper in your ear.

"Beg me." She ordered and you whimpered again. It wasn't like you hadn't already submitted to the red head you hated but begging would be something that would loom over you for a while.

Your thoughts clashed with the overwhelming need from your pussy as it desleratly tried to clamp down on the tip that didn't provide nearly enough pleasure.

"Please, Wanda." You whispered.

"Please who?" She asked sweetly, clearly testing you making you groan.

"Please, mommy just let me cum." You whined and Wanda smacked your ass hard. She edged the dildo in further ever so slowly and stopped again.

"Mommy, please! I need to cum." You tried again, desperation seeping into your voice. Wanda hummed.

"I can see that." She mused as she rubbed small circles on your throbbing and soaked clit. "I just don't see why I should, brat." She punctuated the name with a harsh slap to your ass again and you caught onto what she was hinting at.

"Please, I'll...I'll be so good for you, mommy."

"Yeah, baby?"

"Yes! Please mommy I'll be so so good for you. Just please please let me c-" You were abruptly cut off by your own whorish moan as Wanda snapped her hips forwards and filled you up entirely.

One of her hands tangled itself in your hair and forced your head down into the pillows, not stopping your incoherent babbles filling the room along with the sound of your pussy being fucked by Wanda and her thighs slapping against yours.

The Sokovian tugged on your hair again so your head was off the pillow.

"I'm gonna cum!" You cried out into the air.

"That's it, baby. Soak my fucking cock." And with that demand you came harder than you ever had around Wanda's strap and moaned continuously as the redhead prolonged your pleasure by continuing to pound into you.

But it soon became too much for your sensitive pussy. You squirmed away from Wanda but she placed one hand on the middle of your back to keep you flat against the bed.

"Too much." You managed to say, however the redhead didn't seem to care.

"I'm nowhere near done with you, Princess."

*

Laying panting and gripping onto Wanda's bedsheets like a lifeline wasn't exactly what you expected to be doing on a Thursday night. You were drenched in sweat and although Wanda had pulled out the toy minutes prior, you were sure you could still feel it filling you up, the faint throbbing a forewarning of what was to come.

It took you a while to gather the strength to get up. With anyone else you probably would have just stayed the night in their bed, but you weren't sure you could do that with Wanda. Although she wouldn't kick you out, you didn't like the thought of sleeping beside the redhead. It seemed far too...soft? Whatever it was, you were sure Wanda would agree.

You searched for your clothes while she took a most likely deliberately long shower, images of her naked figure covered in water invading your mind.

Once you cursed them away they were just replaced with flashes of what you had been doing for all those hours, remembering how she pulled on your hair as she praised you when you went down on her. Of course you did that while on your knees.

What happened between you and Wanda wasn't a one time thing. In fact it became increasingly common until you were in each other's beds almost every night. You would have been fuck buddies if you had considered each other a friend.

It worked. You and Wanda were able to work out your pent up frustration towards each other in a way that didn't hurt one another....well, if that didn't include the scratches along Wanda's back and the constant aching between your legs.

You didn't even make snide comments about each other in meetings or during training. You were able to keep everything in the bedroom.

The success of what you two had going forced you to ignore the noteable change in feelings you had towards Wanda. You saw her differently but couldn't quite tell how. Sometimes it was as though the unplaceable emotion you had towards her from from start spiked and other times you were purely confused.

It was always most prominent after she made you crash over the edge of bliss or when she came undone beneath you. Those moments when your bodies went limp and you were caught up in each other's embrace because you didn't have the energy to move. Hearing her exhausted breathing match her rising and falling chest and faint heartbeat if you had your head on her chest. Those tender moments were the ones that caught you off guard.

You refused to make a big deal out of it though. You refused to investigate your feelings or even acknowledge them. What you had with Wanda was the most efficient thing you could do. You didn't want to muck it up but you knew it couldn't go on forever. Another labelless feeling emerged at that thought.

Natasha was the only one who knew what you were doing. Neither of you told her, the spy was able to figure it all out on her own quickly and confronted you both about it once, only saying to be careful. That was the only time she addressed it verbally but you could always feel her watching you both carefully when you trained.

You thought it was going great. You and Wanda had finally been cleared for a mission that you would both be on, the team certainly needed the man power. That was until Nat told you otherwise.

"What do you mean I'm not going?!" You exclaimed across the room. You had seen Nat in the meeting room looking up something on her tablet and had gone in to enquire something about the mission that was long forgotten.

"I've thought about it and you and Wanda still aren't deemed the most reliable when put together for a mission, with this one being as important as it is we can't afford to make mistakes." Natasha sighed.

"So why don't you take Wanda off the mission? I have more experience."

"Her powers are perfectly fitted to this mission, we need her."

"And not me." You knew you came across as petty, but you had been dying to go back into the field.

"Y/n." Nat tried but you scoffed and glared at the screens with those assigned to the mission. Your eyes found Wanda's picture first and your jaw clenched at the sight of her ridiculously attractive face.

"What did she say to you?" You demanded as something clicked in your brain.

"She didn't say anything, this is my judgement." Natasha began but you didn't buy it.

"We both know if it was you you would have told me as soon as you decided it. You had no issue with me and Wanda being on this mission before. Hell, you cleared us both for the field." Nat glanced down at her tablet guiltily as she searched her brain for another hopeless lie.

"This is unbelievable." You scoffed and turned sharply on your heels to storm out of the room, ignoring your name being called by Nat.

You soon found Wanda in the kitchen making herself a coffee as she hummed softly. You willed your brain to ignore the warmth you got from seeing the redhead in her own, peaceful world.

"Do you have a problem with me?" You demanded, snapping her out of her trance. She visibly figited when she saw you approach her and lean on the edge of the kitchen island on you hands with an expectant look.

"No?" She said, seeming unsure.

"Don't you fucking lie to me." She seemed startled by your increasing aggression.

"What are you talking about?" She asked as she stirred her drink.

"Don't play dumb with me, Maximoff. You got me off the mission!" Wanda stopped her movements as she froze, clearly caught off guard by your discovery. Given how Nat had acted you guessed you weren't meant to find out it was Wanda who said something.

"It's for the best." She finally said but avoided your eye.

"It is not your place to decide what's best for me, you don't get to do that." You argued.

"There should only be a few people on the mission." She tried.

"I know that, I've seen the intel. But we already discussed that those people should be powered. Why am I being taken off?" You demanded again.

"It's dangerous." She muttered as she stared down at her drink.

"It's my fucking job. You think I don't know that."

"Of course you do, but there's a bigger risk than the usual missions we've been on. A bigger risk of you getting hurt." She muttered the last bit, like she wasn't entirely sure she wanted you to hear her. Granted, Wanda showing concern for your safety was new.

"Any one of us could get hurt." You said, lowering your voice marginally.

"But it's you I'm worried about." She insisted. It was your turn to become uncomfortable, shifting slightly under her gaze that held something new.

"I can take care of myself." You said as you crossed your arms, feeling a sudden defensive need to protect yourself.

"I know... but I care about you." You exhaled slowly, becoming increasingly uncomfortable at the tone of her voice. "If something happened to you..." She continued, "I don't know what I would do." Her voice was barely above a whisper, the softness laced in it undeniable. It sparked something in you. Something you didn't want to accept.

"Good luck on your mission, Maximoff." You said through gritted teeth and went to leave but Wanda was behind you instantly and took ahold of your hand to pull you back.

"Wait, I wasn't done-"

"Well I am." You snapped and yanked your hand out of her grip.

"What..?" She said slowly.

"If you don't want to work with me then we won't, no need to keep fucking anymore." You huffed and went to walk away.

"That wasn't what I-"

"Stop!" It wasn't a cry of anger. It was pure desperation. Your pleading look took Wanda by surprise and pained her to see. "Just stop before you say something you can't unsay." You said shakily. Your unspoken message was received. You didn't want to hear about Wanda's feelings towards you. She just didn't know it was because you were afraid that it would uncover what you had been feeling all along. You couldn't handle it. You were scared.

Wanda nodded, defeated, and let you go. You were filled with grief as you walked away, your footsteps feeling heavier than usual. You wanted to look back, to go back to her. But you couldn't.

*

You distracted yourself with a particularly ruthless training session the day of Wanda's mission. Carol showed you no mercy in sparring, weight lifting and boxing - even encouraging power use every now and then. But your mind still wandered to the redhead the way it usually did.

When you finally collapsed on the mat in defeat Carol chuckled and tossed you your waterbottle before encouraging an ice bath and strolling out of the gym for her evening flight.

You stayed on the floor for a while after you finished your water, only stopping staring up at the ceiling when Nat's outline blocked the lights. You sat up and looked at her hopefully, seeing that she was back from monitoring the mission and didn't seem distraught or upset.

"How did it go?" You asked as she sat down across from you.

"It was a success." She said but she didn't seem all that happy.

"And everyone's okay?" You asked cautiously. Nat gave a half shug and sighed lightly.

"There was ice - a lot if it and it was so cold. Dangerously cold." Nat started. You tried not to clench your jaw or show any signs of annoyance, knowing there was no need to point out that mission was fitted for you and your powers that would have guaranteed everyone's safety.

"Wanda got a little cut up, it was impossible to fight on that ground." You eyed the door and bit your lip, refraining from giving in to the urge to go see her.

"She doesn't want to talk to anyone right now, but she needs seeing to the cut." Nat said as she placed a first aid kit down infront of you. She was back already? And why did you have the kit?

"She won't see anyone either." Nat said before you could verbally question her. It took a moment for you to understand what she was saying.

"I don't think she wants to see me, Nat." You said as you pushed it back her way only for her to toss it into your lap.

"Goddmit, y/n. Can you two stop dancing around each other and actually talk?!" She exclaimed.

"We tried that-"

"Talking, y/n, not shouting or arguing. Talking." She said firmly and got up before you could protest further.

You pondered over what Natasha said for a while. You knew she had a good point, that talking was exactly what you should have done from the start, but it was just another thing that frightened you.

"Your job is facing your fears." You muttered aloud to yourself.

You finally got up from the ground, first aid kit in hand, and trudged along the compound towards Wanda's room. You tried to figure out what you could say on the way. But it all came out a jumbled mess that made no sense. Multiple times you stopped in the hallways and considered turning back before convincing yourself to keep going.

You knocked softly on Wanda's door and was surprised that it opened for you. The redhead in question was sat on her bed with a pillow in her lap, fiddling with her hands the way she always did when she was anxious or deep in thought. That evening it was both.

She glanced up at you as you closed the door but turned back to her pillow quickly when you gave her a short smile that didn't quite meet your eyes.

Regardless, you cautiously walked towards her bed and sat down next to her with the small box between you. You brought one of your legs up under you so you could face Wanda and eyed the cut above her eyebrow in concern. She still didn't say anything, neither did you.

You opened up the small box and got out a pack of wound closure strips and carefully unwrapped one. Wanda didn't object to you gently holding the area around her cut as you placed the strip on and lightly smoothed over the edges until you were sure it would stay on.

"I let my emotions cloud my judgement." She mumbled as you prepped another strip.

"It happens to all of us." You said.

"But I didn't listen to you. I should have." You sighed and stopped unwrapping the strip to look up at the redhead and watch her closely. She looked back at you with a guilty and pained expression that was full of regret.

"Yeah." You nodded slowly as you went back to the medical tape and raised your hands to put it on but the Sokovian held your wrist to stop you. "What's done is done, so just let me put these on and we're good." You said but she still didn't let go.

"Just like that?" She questioned.

"The mission was a success. If I'd had been there you wouldn't have gotten hurt, that's all."

"You were really mad though." She continued and you put your hands down to rest them, not failing to notice that Wanda was still holding your wrist but with a much lighter grip.

"It's hard to stay mad at you." You admitted.

"You've always been mad at me."

"Well it wasn't exactly like you were the friendliest person to me." You pointed out. "I was never mad at you, Wanda. I just hated that... that you made me feel something I've never trusted, so I didn't trust you. It was never your fault, I was unfair." You admitted as you stared down at the tape the whole time, afraid to meet the redhead's eyes.

"What did you feel?" Wanda asked, her voice void of emotion making it more difficult for you to say. You gulped as you continued to stare at the tape, willing yourself to give Wanda the answer she needed. The answer she deserved.

"Love." You voice shook. "I loved... love you." You were shaking more as you finally looked up at Wanda. Her eyes were wide and her lips slightly parted like there was a million thoughts trying to be heard but without the ability to.

She didn't say anything for a while. A long while. She stared at you in disbelief then at her pillow as though it would give her all the answers.

Tears rushed to your eyes that you tried to blink away as your head swam with curses to yourself for admitting your feelings. You had opened up and been vulnerable to Wanda, and the result was the exact reason you had sworn to never do it again.

Once you were sure she wasn't going to say anything to you, you took it as your cue to leave. To leave so Wanda could prepare her rejection speech for you. However, as soon as you put your hand to the door she spoke out.

"Please don't go."

You turned around slowly and met her light brown eyes you had always found impossible not to get lost in when you had your fingers or tongue inside her. You timidly went back to the bed and paused before sitting down next to her, facing the wall instead of her this time.

"I thought it was one sided." She started and you felt yourself begin to shake with nerves again. "I thought you didn't love me back." You looked to Wanda quickly and searched her features for any signs of a lie, any signs that she was setting you up to push you down but she was gazing back at you longingly with tears glistening in her eyes.

"When you confronted me about the mission, I was going to say it then, you knew that." You squeezed your eyes shut and nodded, remembering the fear you felt in that moment.

"I wasn't ready, I thought I wouldn't ever be but," You took a deep breath "I want to try, for you." You took ahold of Wanda's hand to reiterate your point. "I care about you too Wanda, so much. More than I could ever express or even handle and I didn't know what to do about it. I mean we've tried a fair few things now," You both laughed a little, "but it I don't think any of them are going to work as well as accepting it and...and I don't know." You looked to her for guidance because fuck did you need it. You needed Wanda to guide you down whatever path you chose to take, as long as she was there with you.

"Maybe we could start with something small." She suggested with a small smile that made her eyes shine.

"Like a coffee date?" You tried.

"Exactly like that." She confirmed, giving your hand a reassuring squeeze.

"Then I'll pick you up around 2." You said cheesily making Wanda laugh. "But first, I have to finish tending to this cut." You declared as you turned around to face her entirely and crossed your legs under you, pausing for a moment to give Wanda a short and sweet kiss.

[magniloquent-raven]

(pt1 here)

billy grew up afraid of finding his soulmate.

when he was eight his father caught him trying to wash nail polish off with soap and a hand towel.

he’d heard girls at school saying it was what you did when your soulmate was a boy. you were supposed to paint yourself up all pretty and find the person who matched. and it was easy enough to sneak into the vanity and steal a bottle of his mother’s nail polish. but once the paint dried he realized it would be impossible to hide from his father, and he panicked.

his mother showed him the bottle of nail polish remover after neil left. dabbed some on a cotton ball to rub at the thick layer of paint. she was silent, kneeling on the floor in front of him cradling his sprained wrist while he sat on the edge of the tub and cried.

they both had questions, but neither of them got answers.

it took billy months to work up the courage to try again.

he wasn’t sure why he was bothering, at first. he knew he couldn’t look for his soulmate the traditional way. and he was constantly terrified that his father would find the supplies he’d started hoarding. it seemed like more risk than reward, and yet. he couldn’t stop himself.

every time he was allowed to wander off in a store alone he’d slip something into his pocket. a tube of lip gloss. a compact full of shiny powders. he wasn’t even sure what some of it was, he just liked the colours. liked the pictures they hung alongside the displays. he wanted to look like that. beautiful.

and in his heart of hearts, he wanted the boy who was out there waiting for him to know he existed. whether they’d be able to find each other or not.

he’s more careful with this than he was with the nail polish. his father works saturday nights, and his mother always visits their neighbour while he’s at work. despite having the house to himself he locks his bedroom door.

the first thing he tries is the watermelon lip gloss. it’s sticky, and the wand doesn’t fit in his hand comfortably, but once he’s smeared it on he feels...good. he likes the way it catches the light. likes the way it smells. he looks at himself in the mirror and likes seeing something different.

the high doesn’t last long, it inevitably gives way to paranoia, anxiety that has him glancing at the locked door every thirty seconds, heart pounding, wondering if just maybe his father will get home from work early, and he jumps at every sound, hearing boots thudding on the porch and car doors slamming and anything that could be neil coming through the door.

cleaning himself up is hard. panic makes his hands shake, his eyes well up. he drops everything on the floor when he tries to tuck the bag away. and he has to spend twenty minutes with his back to his bedroom door getting his breathing under control when he’s finished.

but he does it again the following saturday. and the one after that.

for five months he does this. locks himself away with his stolen treasures and lets himself live a little. it gets easier as time goes on. and his mind wanders sometimes. to a future where he gets to share this with someone. the boy out there who’s supposed to love him one day.

it’s a small bubble of a dream. one he doesn’t spend too much time dwelling on. not when there’s neil’s voice in his head, telling him that no one could love a fucking freak, ‘cause fags don’t get real soulmates anyways.

he wants and he wishes, but the more he thinks about it the more he doubts. he’s never gotten a mark from his soulmate, and even if he did some day, what if his father’s right, and his “soulmate” doesn’t want him or makes him miserable or...worse.

so he does his makeup for himself.

until, like all good things in his life, his father ruins it.

he never found out what set neil off initially, something going wrong at work maybe, or the martial strife of the week getting to him. whatever it was that started it, neil eventually decided billy should bear the brunt of the fallout.

so he went through his things. said billy’d been acting cagey lately, and he was going to find out why.

and then found the makeup bag stuffed into an old sweater in his closet.

it was ugly. the things neil said that day would play on repeat in billy’s head for years afterwards. the scars his belt left on billy’s back were nothing in comparison.

the next saturday came and went. billy spent the evening curled up under a blanket not bothering to wipe away the tears dripping down his face.

by morning he’s resolved to forget the whole thing. to put it behind him. because it was stupid, and risky and childish and maybe his father was right. he’s almost convinced himself. and then he notices ink on his arm, as he reaches up to rub his eyes. messy scrawl, i bet you looked pretty crookedly written up his forearm.

he didn’t think he was able to cry any more, but he manages it.

for the first time his soulmate isn’t just a concept, or a what-if, he’s...a person. he’s a real person out there somewhere. someone who doesn’t even know billy and still wanted to reach out, to offer comfort. it’s more than he’s gotten from anyone else. even his mother. who he knows loves him, and she does her best to protect him, but when she found out about his makeup stash she just looked sad, and she’s said nothing to him about it.

but his soulmate…

can never, ever meet neil.

the thought hits him right in the chest.

whoever he is, he cares, he’s good. and neil breaks good things.

billy falls asleep that night tracing the empty space where his soulmate’s message used to be, wrapped up in worries and dreams, and terrified for someone he’s never met.

the doodles that come and go over the years are terrifying and exhilarating and billy manages to hide every single one from his father. they only ever show up during the day, and they don’t linger. something billy is both grateful for and resentful of.

sometimes he’ll watch other boys’ hands in class. check them for drawings. he thinks he’s being careful, but a girl in his chem class, becca, catches him. she says it’s only because she knew what to look for. they share a cigarette under the bleachers and she tells him about a girl who likes green eyeshadow and writes homework reminders on her wrists using stars instead of bullet points.

it takes billy six months and a couple shots of tequila to tell her about watermelon lip gloss and bet you’re pretty and they both cry when he starts to wonder if his soulmate will be disappointed that he isn’t a girl.

on a rainy april afternoon she asks him to go to a gay bar with her. he tells his father he’s going on a date. she tells her’s that she had to reschedule a tutoring session and it’ll run pretty late.

they wait til it’s dark and get ready in a dingy gas station bathroom. when she’s smearing on her eyeliner she catches sight of his face in the cloudy mirror. he wasn’t going to ask her for anything. he wouldn’t have brought it up. the twinge in his heart and a hollow feeling of longing aren’t anything new, he can deal.

he feels and empty kind of rage every time old, well-meaning relatives give max girly lip gloss kits and eyeshadow pallets and shit normal preteen girls who care about finding their soulmates actually appreciate. she always rolls her eyes and throws them away. susan will fish them out of the trash sometimes, and leave them under the bathroom sink, like if max just sees them there she’ll suddenly give a shit and start using them. like them being there does anything but taunt billy with what he can’t have.

neil watches him like a fucking hawk every time that shit comes into the house. and max doesn’t fucking care. doesn’t notice.

but becca offers.

and.

he’s not about to say no.

he should’ve said no.

it feels good at first, like it used to, it feels like freedom and he likes what he sees when he looks in the mirror, and he kisses a boy for the first time and it isn’t fireworks but it’s something, and he thinks maybe it’s going to be a good night, but then…

neil is waiting on the curb outside becca’s house. they were heading there first, because her parents wouldn’t notice, she said it would be fine, she has makeup remover he can use, he can clean up and head home and everything was supposed to be okay, except. it wasn’t.

it’s the last time he sees becca. neil tells her parents what was actually going on, and she isn’t allowed to visit him in the hospital.

and then six months of rehab, one rushed wedding and a big ugly sold sign later, neil carts them off to hawkins, indi-fucking-ana. as a “family.”

billy was certain this town would be nothing but a prison. it’d be somewhere he’d never find a place to be himself, neil would make sure of that. there wasn’t a single thing to like about this place and its bullshit small town sensibilities. for all the open space it might as well have been stone walls and steel bars.

except.

except...here was a boy with soft eyes and nimble fingers, who gets a little wrinkle between his brows when he concentrates, and is always moving, fidgeting, fiddling with zippers and touching his elbows and looking at him makes billy itch. to touch, to soothe, to take, and…

things get complicated when aimless blue waves scrawl up billy’s arm. when steve follows him out into the parking lot. calls him pretty to his face. and suddenly billy’s eight years old and realizing this shit is real. terrified of what that could mean. spinning fragile dreams like spider’s silk, hard to shake but easy to destroy.

even entertaining the idea of putting on makeup while he’s still in hawkins is stupid and dangerous, but goddamn if he hasn’t risked more for less.

he’s sure he’ll regret it. like he’s regretted every other desperate bid for freedom. but when faced with steve harrington’s smile, he can’t find it in himself to say no.

(edit: pt3 here)

[golvio]

For reference, I don’t have the whole context for the scenes I’ve seen yet, but I feel like I have to put down my thoughts about this or else I’ll explode.

“Uwuuubuuuu Monster Pig Ganon is bad because he’s just a mindless monster because I think he’s ugly and something something Downfall Timeline,” yeah, sure, but have you considered this man loves being an abomination and a crime against the divinely-ordained order of things as decided by Hylia?

It’s not like people really treated him like he was a human being back when he was human! Neither the Gerudo nor the fandom bandwagon were interested in anything about him from the neck up, and the monarchy just wanted a perfect little automaton who endlessly flattered them and went to war for them when useful. He knew the second they realized they couldn’t hollow him out and put a type of man they could actually stand to consume in there, he’d be marked for culling. Why even bother pretending at that point? Why not become something that can’t be killed in any way that matters, instead?

Like…I’m having a lot of feelings I can’t quite put into words about the guy willingly forsaking his own humanity after the one glimpse we got into his early years in a spinoff had his people regarding his child self with this silent, seething contempt, waiting for him to magically change into the sort of man they could desire once he hits puberty and, they presume, put his silly hobbies behind him so he can become properly interested in girls and starting a family.

Sure, who he grew up into wasn’t a cute, cuddly Likable person, but…to spend your life knowing people reject you by default, will reject you once they get to know you, that they don’t want You but someone who looks just like you but with a “better” personality and totally different priorities…it’s not surprising to me that he’d grow bitter about that and desperately yearn to become Something Else Entirely, who those concerns couldn’t touch. Why he’d be so desperate to throw away that body that everyone desired but also regarded as something Made For Them to devour, to the point where they practically treated the person it was attached to like livestock, ignoring his wishes and prodding him when he moved in directions other than the one they were going. It’s not surprising he’d come to see such a body as a prison and want to escape it. And, like…I sense the sorts of impossible expectations that the people he grew up around placed on him to grant their wishes and satisfy their fantasies when they literally gave up on men entirely when he inevitably disappointed them and walked out.

And, after being told by the order outside that nevertheless dictated his entire life that he was inferior because destiny said so, no matter how important and special and talented he was in the place where he was born. That he should accept his lot in life and devote himself to a life of servitude to the Superior People, the One True King, the One True Goddess, etc. That he should give up on his ambitions and dreams and sleepwalk into a loveless political marriage devoted to siring children like a prizewinning bull for women who don’t even want to try to understand him, or to be ogled by the court ladies and gentlemen like an exotic zoo exhibit, a trophy and symbol of the new monarchy’s reach and influence… It’s understandable, that fantasy of becoming something that can just…bypass all that. Something that can no-sell all attempts to restrain or control it. Something so much more than any of the pitiful fools who try to shackle it in servitude. Something that can put out the eyes of anyone who looks at it without the respect it deserves, or turn them into deer and have them torn apart by their own hunting dogs.

And that shot of him looking at his own mutated hand, sodden and dripping with Gloom, where he flexes his hand and then starts to laugh with joy and wonder, as opposed to breaking down and lamenting the loss of his humanity, What Have I Become, etc. He doesn’t care if the god he ends up becoming is one of betrayal, revenge, consumption, the cycle of waning and decay and resurrection that all creatures of the land were beholden to before their home was invaded and the Shrines were built to stop it. So long as he is transcendent, that is all that matters.

It’s…I don’t know what it is, quite yet. I’ll know more when I have more context and see every memory all the way through.

I spoiled myself on a few plot details, and I’m actively looking forward to seeing Ganondorf be a transhumanist piece of shit who loves being all fucked up and stygian.

[nothorses]

Ok sorry if I sent this twice, I got distracted and forgot if I hit send or not! I want to do something similar to the “my voice on x days of T” thing but I don’t really want to keep track of how long its been, just the voice difference. I was wondering if you or anyone else had suggestions? I struggle a lot with memory and dates (and remembering to write down stuff) so I don’t want to set myself up for disappointment when I inevitably forget what day I’m on. Thank you!!

lmao I feel this so hard. I started an "x time on T" video diary that I was pretty faithful to for almost a year, then hit the year mark and stopped trying altogether.

Still nice to have the evidence of initial change, though- and tbh if nothing else the original benchmark to compare to is really encouraging. I should probably go back and record something just to give myself another something to compare to.

I think the trick is to just avoid setting benchmarks or holding yourself to a consistent schedule; even if it's just once a year, I've found that the guilt of missing one benchmark means I'm likely to avoid recording anything after that (y'know, like I'm doing now 🙃).

Make it a whenever-I-feel-like-it thing. Make it something you do when you have time and energy and want to, and if the benchmarks don't space out well, who cares! It's not about having a perfect end product- it's just for you. Do it when you want to.

[secretbangtnn]

Love Lies | kth I

➤ summary : You never had it easy. From the first day of your life it seemed like fate was a big joke, making every effort to make you feel miserable. Shortly after taking the first step into adulthood, you are convinced that childhood doom follows you like a shadow. On the verge of being broke without any help, you take your friends advice and try your hand in industry you have no idea about.

➤ genre : CEO! au, prostitution but not really au, strangers to enemies to lovers, Smut, fluff, angst

➤ pairing : Taehyung x reader ft. Jimin (This chapter Jimin x reader)

➤ ratings : 18+ NSFW

➤words : 10k

➤ warnings : swearing, prostitution, sex for money, mentions of mental health, toxic household, mentions of violence, explicit sexual content, mxm, fxm, family problems, dishearitance, toxic relationship, Taehyung is bad at feelings, reader is lost, soft boy jimin, sexy hot taehyung (couse that will need a warning) - more to be added

notes ~

I finally did it! I'm so sorry for the wait and how the chapter came out - it's a little more messy than I predicted but i wanted to give you something before the big story. I promise the next chapter is going to start with the big action and main plot and finally with Taehyung. I really hope for some feedback, I worked hard for it to be done before the next week and even though it may seem boring i really hope it’s okay.

taglist:

@jinssexytoe @danyxthirstae01 @alwaysasadaesthetic @luvmingyu @chimincubus @minshookie29

Underneath the sunrise

Show me where your love lies

Relationships that are based on lies never last long and everyone who found themselves in artificial feelings, knows of the truth of those words. Although that sweet sinful lie sometimes replaces that thing we could have never got.

You never thought about yourself as someone low, at least not that low to kneel to beg of something so materialistic like money.

You respected yourself at the same time being sure that you would fight everything alone. Just like a good fighter - you didn't need a good sword in a big war. Even once in your whole life you wouldn't have thought of stepping that low to actually work as a cleaner in old school or supermarket lady, that couldn't even use the calculator right.

How ironic, we love when inevitable doom falls on people that did not deserve it.

You were taught from the beginning, how to live, what to do, how to look, and the most important who to listen to. It's so weird when we find a character that's not extremely bad or good, not the shy mouse of the school, also not the hot rebellious cool girl with too big ego, and mouth so unbelievable that you actually start to think if you have ever met someone without such basic manners.

Fact is that you are bland, your life never yours to live, as someone recorded it with a script in their hands, and a plan for an ending and second part. It was frustrating knowing how many people never cared about you, however you could not say that you indeed did too.

Lessons were taught, those made you somehow resistant to disappointments in life. First happening in early stage, not even first year of your high school, people started to know - know about this and that, about family of yours and how privileged they would be if they had you on their side.

But you did not have a problem with it, mindset so set that you liked to think about money as a guarantee of friendship. And with this thought you let the first people use you, not minding their motive of only getting part of your prosperity.

So you believed to those days that your childhood indeed was normal.

You never tried to run from your life, you never saw yourself as a hormonal teenager in need of attention.

In the end only those who were born in respecting families, where work and pride is placed higher than blood ties, knows how upringbing really looks in such a household. Your standart always high, doing that to not need to put it higher again.

Parents instilling you dreams that were not yours, making you believe in something they always wanted. Like it was written, your whole life does not belong to you, and realization over it came in the moment when it was a little too late. Happy smiles never real, friends you swore would not leave you, disappeared within a night.

However let’s not impose that your parents were monsters, killing you on the inside with their cold demeanor or making your life miserable.

The first problem began when you had enough, when a virus in your mind told you about your own desires.

You remember this day like it was yesterday. Invisible mark on your check is still pulsating, with a wound much deeper inside screaming at you that it is still not healed.

“I want to study medicine.” Those were the exact words you first told your mother, freezing her in place and scarring inside with the power and destruction they held. She did not hold back with ignoring you, acting like the sentence was a mere passing wind, just fluffing hair in a not nice type of way. You expected that, nothing new from a shell of a person your mother has become, money and power empowering her mind, probably killing the young woman you are now, in her.

So the first step of actually making a point of how you processed to cut your family ties, were with your mother, kind of preparing you for what has to come.

Dark room, with marble accents and a woody smell that came straight to your nostrils. Mahogany desk, big enough to contain tons of papers scattered over it like some kind of nto important rubbish. You however knew better, and those innocent stock of inked pages held more value than maybe you yourself.

It was so hard to breathe in this tiny space, now feeling ever more closed up, dark and not welcoming. You tried to believe that the reason for it was not really a man sitting just before you, not minding your presence in a slighlets, but a stress and emotions on your back, you were trying to bear by yourself.

“I’m busy.” Short answer, not even directed to you - not that the man ever looked at you with those dark eyes. Predictable, exactly like you guessed. Cold feeling with a hot flush over your cheek, not knowing where the previous patience had gone.

Maybe you finally had enough. You were too tired to try to understand.

“Dad, please listen to me.” Ice cold bucket over your head, a void eyes now on you, not really expecting them to stay on you for so long, or even look up. Pupils a little blow out, stirring the dark color pallet of his eyes, similar to the tone of the bags under them. What a wrack of a man he really was, lanky hands under the suit, scribbling over something not even a minute ago, now lying lifelessly on a brownish desk.

“You really couldn't find better time for your whining? Go on, I still have a lot of work to do before I need to actually go.” Unconcern, you could even feel the unitresment oozing from him, hitting you with those eyes. They were looking at you, but at the same time it felt like they never were there. Black holes, no feelings found, gaze scary for those who never met someone so indifferent.

“I dropped out.”

“What?” Words came after some silence, piercing straight your beating heart. Hands in fist, just beside your thighs, so white that it could even be a little concerning for those looking from the side. You were nervous, even after you told yourself that this conversation was not going to be easy. Smooth information that it should be, your own life choices never discussed so openly.

“I dropped out of college”

Not a breath was heard, a heavy hand landed on the desk with a smack, knocking in the process some of the scattered pens.

“You did what?” Too calm, his voice was too calm for such information. Nerve wracking feeling once again welcomed you inside, making you take one step back. Soft material of the shirt creased under your hard grip. “It’s not the time for such a jokes Y/n”

“I’m not joking dad, I took the papers yesterday. I'm tired of wasting my time on something I never wanted.”

“Oh? But are you really? What are you going to do then? I'm getting really curious” Tone momocking you in every kind of way. You clench your teeth, an annoyed expression came over your face, just to disappear within one glance of the man.

Questions were rhetorical, laughing at your whole being in the cruelest manner. He knew about your every vulnerability, molding your persona from the beginning. So it must have been funny for him, seeing a little girl, someone he treated not entirely equally, however putting some kind of hope and dreams he himself could not reach, standing before him like a scared puppy asking for a treat.

“You yourself know the best how important those studies are for you. You prepared your whole life to go there and take my place one time, so don’t joke about it like it’s some kind of dish you are bored of eating.”

“You forced me to do it! I never wanted to take your place, study the stupid law.”

“And you decided that this is the time to suddenly realize that? Y/n from the beginning, we always gave you what you wanted, fulfilling your every wish, buying everything you wanted, and even after that you can’t be grateful. We only asked you for one thing, one thing Y/n, there is not such a thing like your dreams, there is only our family.” You wanted to laugh, those stupid exucess, only making you annoyed and wroked up. Manipulating you into believing you were selfish, that you are the problem, and you owe them right to living.

“Don’t be ridiculous father, you are not in the place to talk about family or do I need to remind you of Na-”

You heard it before you felt it. Burning feeling right in your left cheek, head on the side from the harash contact it made with the ringed hand. It was not the first time you saw or experienced such an act. Father being the man that loved to lose his temper rather fastly, hiding on the outside behind the calm demeanor and innocent smile.

Blood on your tongue, the metallic taste in your mouth like a forbidden flower you just tasted.

“You really want me to get mad today hm? “ You really wanted to nod, looking straight at him from your hair that fell after the slap. Hand on the cheek, trying to stop the pulsating ache to echo so much, however you know the best that the hot feeling is only building up and it's the only matter of time till the beautiful tones of purple show on your soft skin.

His own hands now begin viped over the handkerchief, a little blood over the white fabric, likely from the little scratches the rings were able to make.

His back to you as he went back behind the dark desk, sitting on his chair like nothing happened. And you knew, secretly that it was the end, that the conversation was done and nothing else could be said.

You closed your eyes, not even noticing you did it, realizing it after the first salty tear fell to your mouth, giving you a taste of sorrow. Head down, not in shame but in anger, with a pulsating cheek not letting you forget about the consequences your every word bears, you turned around going to the door that before somehow gave you so much hope.

“Oh and Y/n, there is no you without this family, but there is family without you. It won’t be the first time when I lose a child.”

Those exact words hunted you till this day. Rather heavy feeling, three years not long enough to make you forget, or let you accept a new life.

Loud noise of passing cars just outside the dirty window with a pounding of heart echoing in your ears. It was one of those bad days - you liked to say, those however started happening a lot of more. Breaking was never something you wanted to do, working so many jobs you could not count on your fingers, living in shitty apartments for no longer than two months just to end up on someone's couch.

That is the life you chose, the life you barely lived, everyday wishing for a miracle.

Harsh paper under your fingers, weighting your hand weirdly down - maybe it was the words that made the letter so heavy, maybe the truth you needed to face. Fact is that you do not know what to do, trying for the last months to make a living for yourself, get better pay and settle down for a longer time.

Words of your father echoing once again, making your eyes squish with the feeling. It was so hard to accept a defeat, something that you worked so hard for and for so long. You could not beg, you could not go on your knees again, and even if it was an option, imagines and memories of life in such a household keep you in the place you are now.

Head resting under your arms, shielding bright rays of sun from your eyes, long locks falling down in waves just over your pale face. You pulled them with a strength you did not know you possessed at the moment, as if it was because of them you needed to deal with all of this.

“Think Y/n, think” Mutters fell from your mouth like a mantra, supposed to make you cheer up a little. Void in your head, not ending emptiness that scares you as much as the strings of unpaid numbers on this goddamn paper.

An late hour struck on the side clock, hanging on one of the grey walls of the run down apartment you lived in. Sight itself is depressing, leaving you in wonder if maybe it is not one of the reasons for your current mood.

Who you wanted to trick.

A little knock once again echoed in the quietness of your home, reminding you of the late hour. Looking from your thick locks of hair, you sighed seeing how little time you actually got to get there. With one move, you left the scrap of paper on the side, and stood up from the ugly green couch, taking in the process bag of the crookedly hanged hook.

Fast footstep as you nearly run over one of the olders ladies living in the same flat, trying to messily wrap an apron over your waist, which is not as easy as it seemed to be earlier. Bluish fabric holding on to you with all the power, hanging a little on the too long strings, that untied themselves with each step.

You tried not to think about all those stares, looking at you as you run past them, not minding where your feets go, or if you accidentally push someone on the side. Let people think what they want, it's not like your opinion matters, and being a disgrace to your whole family disappears.

Familiar neon letters came to your sight forming the greenish title of caffe you soon found yourself in. A little bell rang as the door opened informing everyone about your presence. Calm atmosphere, everyone was busy in their own word, you loved this, a quiet place which you often found yourself admiring.

You wished that working there was not such an obligation, the only thing that let you stay in your current apartament. Rosy cheeks, and cheeky smiles as people got their morning coffee, thanking you quietly for the drink with such a pure impression, that you could not hold back the smile you gave each one of them.

“I’m so sorry for being late, I hope you didn’t need to run too much.” You said between heavy breaths, still trying to catch remaining puffs of air, head tilted to the side, hands on knees as you looked at the little blonde behind the counter.

Said boy only laughed a little, shaking his head from the embarrassment after the statement. Ringed hands cleaning some cups, quiet melody living his plump lips.

“Am I suppose to feel offended? I’m not an old man you know.” He asks, knowing that the answer will never be given. Voice on the lighter side, something you would expect from such a soft looking boy, warm and sweet to listen, and you indeed do, always keeping quiet when the boy talked about his own day to fill the quietness of your workplace.

You knew the boy was one of the things that made you feel normal, with his bright persona and angelic personality, you liked to believe he was one. He did not ask, knowing some things should stay in the dark, and you repaid him the same, being fully aware of the boy's secrets.

“Not at all. Beside we all know that it's not about you, but about who will get in trouble from your whining - and yes, it would be me. “ You say, patting his back on the way to the other side. Confused gaze now on you, as you smirk at the questioning boy waiting for some kind of elaboration, only getting from you another cup to wipe.

“Should i remind you of a certain person, which came to me with a complaint of how his favorite boy was tired - what was his name? Oh yeah Yo-”

“I don’t know what you are talking about.”

You laughed at the squeaky voice that came in a form of fast spoken answer, a little too fast to understand every word completely. Pretty blush came over his round cheek, soon appearing on tips of his lears, hidden by mop of blonde hair.

Not a piece of judgment in your gaze, but rather sweet caring look over the embarrassed boy next to you, trying so hard not to look bothered by your everyday teasing, that he was slowly getting accustomed to, liking how your voice gets a little lighter, your eyes light up and a pure giggle leaves your mouth.

Yeah he definitely could live with it if it means he can see the sparkle pops out in the dark of your pupils.

Cup in his hands a little heavy with the next thought that came over him. Melody coming with the pleasant wind of the early monday morning, his eyes however discreetly gazing over your figure. He knew when the times were worse, when your collarbones stood out more, welcoming i'm from the collar of an old shirt, you probably needed to wash by hands, and he hated that even if he tried to explain it, not care so much, he simply could not stop the worry seeking of him.

You were a sweetheart, never judging him, understanding his reason even after he told you about the second job he needed to take. You simply smiled, wishing him all good, and getting excited about dreams that were not your own, laughing with him and talking about his future plans as if you had place in them.

Thanks were never enough to pay off all the hardship you helped with. He respected you, admired so many things about you, how you don’t need a reason to give an arm to cry on, always taking a piece of burden on your own shoulders, whispering promises and talking about a better future that comes with hardships.

“Don’t be so embarrassed~ “ You sing to his ear when you pass him, going over to the coffee machine, big bag of beans in your hands. “I dare to say I got a little jealous when I saw him for the first time.”

“Gosh I hate you sometimes.” He whines, throwing his head back, closing his eyes to remain calm. Smile now on your lips, little giggles leaving your busy persona, trying not to be too loud in such an early hour.

An enjoyable silence came over once again, only sounds of working machines and knocks of cups, that were cleaned and wiped, mind automatically getting fuzzy from the fresh brew of coffees and autumn wind. Not a person in a shop, being still a little too early to welcome customers or get a morning drink, subtle music playing a little louder at those times filling little breaks of silence.

So how surprising it was, when those little giggles tickled your own ears suddenly and strong arms, clothed in white shirt, sneaked around your waist, making you lose the focus on filling the cup with beans. Blonde hair over your cheek, stroking the soft skin with a funny feeling, only pushing you to squirt more.

“You know if you liked him so much, you could have just said. I would think of something.” He whispers mockingly, smacking his lips in the end. Shiver comes with his next move, hands on your hips, keeping them from stirring so much, hot and on the smaller side however still noticeably bigger than your own. “Sadly I do not share my clients.”

With those words, he quickly detaches himself, hitting your bum with a cheeky smile that you soon could see right before you as the boy grabs one of the fresh croissants, putting the whole thing into his mouth.

“It must be big for you to say that.” You laugh, looking at the choking boy with the same expression he was giving you not even a minute ago.

“That was totally inappropriate.” Says blonde, chugging a glass of water you gave him out of pity.

“Now, don’t play an innocent Jimin, I see how you look at that one girl that comes here every friday. Didn’t you even memorize her order - gosh i heard you repeating it so many times that I know it myself.”

“Okay, okay maybe you are right, but it doesn’t mean you can judge me.”

“Would I ever?” A dramatic sight from the boy's accusations leaves your lips, you touch your heart looking at him with the most hurt eyes you could manage to do, a little tear spins in your eye. Mouth full of baked goodie, he laughs showing a little of non eaten food, with a proud expression to it. Your own smile now noticeable on face, happy feeling over your whole being, loving how this short amount of time with the bubbly boy let you forget about some problems. You take one of the left rags of the counter and throw it at his face, hoping to get him to work. “Stop eating! We are opening soon and I don't want to listen to how the coffee machines should be ready before the first client, because someone didn’t want to move his ass.”

“Just say you don’t want to deal with that old raisin.”

Nobody did, but Jimin had some superpower you sadly did not possess, and could at least shut the old businessman that somehow always comes first. Coming back to an earlier job, you pour black beans in the measuring cup, trying not to let the weight of the bag swoop you.

Place once again in a nice atmosphere, Jimin singing somewhere in the back, probably preparing syrups and goodies, sorting eveyrything on the displae plate. You two fell in a pleasant rhythm, doing your jobs like robots, knowing where things should go, and how not to disturb each other in the middle of action.

And it was something you really enjoyed, that piece and order, making you feel secure at least in such a place. Like you had power over your own life, your hands did what you wanted, your mind clear with tasks to be done.

Peace.

You both knew that this place was a mere act in the theatre of lies, you played in. Cafe such like that one, a happy place for two broke students, that tried everything in their power to make a living, pursue dreams so far away, still hoping that they are not going to disappear with all the hardships.

You could just drown in this lie of beauty picture you painted yourself, pretending your lifes do not look as bad, and even though you did not know the boy so well, you could tell from his eyes that he indeed is a player in the same game as you.

The truth being you did not know each other, you were not close. You knew about his job, about his own problems - some of them left unsaid, but who could you judge when you acted exactly the same.

Understanding from each other was enough.

However the boy tried to help you, offering sum of money or better paid jobs in times when you were too tired to hide it, those although - he learned after some time, never were an option for you.

And so with the next passing wind, the first client came welcoming you with kind of a grumpy smile, wishing for you to just make him the coffee. It was as always, a busy morning on the first day of the week, that always seems a little more crowded than any other, with business men and middle aged women trying to get over their morning sickness as fast as possible.

You saw the girl you talked about some minutes ago, looking from her covering eyes bangs, squashed from pink beanie on her head, nevertheless still laid perfectly. A little wave, hand hid under the panda mittens she liked to wear every other day the temperature goes down.

You smiled at the interaction, the excited smile on Jimin's face he tried so hard to hide, not doing a good job with his nearly nonexistent eyes that disappeared just because of it. She was pretty, a student in a university you both go to, however you were not sure what exactly she was majoring in.

Her funky style makes you take a shot at something related to fashion, but that might be completely wrong and the girl could just like wearing such bright clothes.

“Love the mittens, they look nearly as cute as you.” You heard, looking back from your busy hands, to gaze at the flustered pair. Adorable giggle soon leaves her mouth, covering lips with the said gloves as her own eyes disappear from weirdly similar eyesmile.

Jimin was a sweetheart, someone who deserved a happy future. And so you did everything to make that happen, wishing him the best and trying to help him even if it means your own happiness goes on a second plan.

“I'm sorry but could I order.” Coming back to your own job, you look up immediately, catching the gaze of one of the clients you did not recognize.

“Oh yes of course, I'm sorry for the wait. What can I get you?”

----

A loud noise of a closing locker echoes in a quiet room in the back of the coffee shops. Night air chilling from the open window you opened some minutes ago, to get rid of a smell so many people.

The calm of the room soothing your buzzing nerves and shaking hands, that always seems to do it after a hard day of work. Your attention now somewhere else as you try to take off the blue apron, laying it somewhere on the lonely bench next to you.

It was a busy day, helping you forget about what waits for you at home, and what person will probably visit you in the meantime. You didn’t like those times, the quiet after such hard working hours, leaving you with anxious thoughts rotating around the same problems you tried so hard to run away from.

So you tried once again, silence your mind with your hands, taking every job you could, now wiping lockers that never needed to be wiped before. The same rug from before in your hands, sliding over an uneven surface.

“Y/n?” You jumped from the sudden voice, swearing that Jimin was in the other room just a second ago. Turning around, you try to look unbothered, clenching the old rug in your hands with such interest. A little noise comes from your mouth, hum to let him know you are aware of his presence.

“Everything alright?” He asks a little unsure of the question, looking at you from the other side of the room, close to the door connected to the main room.

“Yeah, why would there not be?

“You were cleaning the lockers like not even a minute ago.” He says without thinking. Voice somehow suspicious, full of hidden concern as his suspicions from before seem to be true. You were not alright, and Jimin knows exactly what it may be. “If you need hel-”

“I'm alright! I'm really alright there is no need to worry, I'm just stressed because med major is harder than I thought.” The sigh is enough to let you know that he is not buying it.

Hard steps as he comes closer, opening his own locker situated right next to you, eyes glazing back at you from his clothes is started to put back. Tight lipped smiles is the only thing you are capable of answering with, catching his dark stare for a second.

“Im worried, and I know what you want to say, but I can’t help it. You are always the one that takes my burden so why can I not do the same?” He closes the locker with too much strength, making you jump again from the loud noise.

“It’s different.”

“How is it different? You help me with everything, you let me cry, you let me crash at your apartment when my parents try to make a mess again, so what’s the problem with me?! You don’t even want to tell me what's wrong dammit.” His eyes glassy from all the emotions, hands in a fist as if he tried to hold himself back. He turned completely to you, cornering you to the lockers behind, not letting you leave this time.

“Is it because of my work? Are you ashamed to take dirty money from someone who can’t earn normally and needs to sell themself. Is it this?! Tell me Y/n, I’m tired of seeing you in such a state, you are my friend.”

“You know it’s not that.” You tried to argue catching his watery eyes.

“So tell me, tell what is going on.”

Your own mouth in agape, words lost somewhere in the back of your head. So many years going alone, keeping everything to yourself shows itself with such a hestation of saying easy words that could let you breathe easier at night.

But would they really?

Giving someone your own burden was something you were taught as a shame. Problems should stay in family, and even there your father always told you to fight them alone.

“I - “ Eyes hopeful, looking at you with new found desperation. Big and different from the ones he was giving the sweet girl with panda mittens, and that alone made you sick knowing that the sparkle left because of you. “I’m sorry Jimin I just can’t.”

And you broke. With the remaining energy you mustered, you fell onto Jimin, him nearly not catching you on time. First tears fell, with such a power, rolling down your cheeks, wetting the soft fabric of Jimin’s shirt. You did not know why, why now you decided to just let go, sobbing so much, hoping the boy will understand that you only need someone to hold you.

And he did, wrapping his arms so securely around, letting you hide the red face in a crock of his neck. Fresh smell of flowers and perfume he always wore with a noticeable hint of coffee, you probably possesed yourself. Quiet whispers of comfort, tickling your scalp a little, hands patting your hair with care, brushing them with such a delicacy, like he secretly knew how breakable you are now.

“It’s going to be okay.” Void promise, his lips close to you kissing your forehead, with shaky hands trying so hard to gather every tear that fell down. With a little move he sat on a bench, an apron which you earlier left there dropped on the floor, a quiet thud ran in the small room, you on his lap, trying so hard to become smaller nearly molding in the bigger body of Jimin’s.

Sorry’s fly through your mouth, realizing it after Jimin's starts to rock your body. He peels your face from the safe space of his neck, wiping your running tears with both of his thumbs and trying to smile a little.

“I know it’s hard, but sometimes we need to let someone in, let them help put broken pieces together.” Eyes shining in the dim light of the room, your mouth ready to disagree quickly however quieten by his own speech. ”I know what you want to say Y/n” He starts again taking a big breath. “Being helpless doesn’t mean being weak, asking for help is not something to be ashamed of. Being strong however - is letting someone in, taking they hand and standing up with them - you have to have courage to do it, and I know you do to - but whoever put such a toxic mindset in you, keeps you from it and you need to realize that there is no longer people who will judge you for falling down a litte.”

Eyes falling down, sore from all the crying that has no plans to stop. You wipe the snot with your sleeve as well as wet cheeks, laughing a little after it, sniffles in the room as you try to calm yourself a little.

Jimins gaze still at you, now softer still brushing your hair in a calming manner with the second hand drawing circles on the side of your waist. It was shameful, hearing such words, knowing deep down they were true, but too prideful to agree with them.

“Gosh If I knew you cry like that, I would take a bucket with me. I wouldn’t need to pay water bills for like two months with it. “ He laughs as you smack him with your hand. Smile on your face, you tilt your head leaning on his arm with all the weight, a small sigh leaves your mouth. Smell of coffee now is more prominent with his own perfume, which he wears everyday, pushing your mind into own fuzzy feeling. “You know that I will always be there for you, right?”

A silent nod is enough, not too much to say after such an outbreak from your side still buzzing inside you. You know it was true, with how much you both came through together, it would be stupid to leave someone who become somehow a safe heaven.

“What are you going to do now? You won’t take any money, I guess you either are not going to be too willing to crash in my apartment.” Your head immediately shots up, eyes searching those of Jimin. A look of confusion cross your face for a second, with the words repeating in your mind once again. His face however is still serious, not leaving your surprised gaze.

“W-what how do you kno -”

“Your landlord called, I didn’t want to disturb you on your break - by the way I saw you sleeping you are not as sneaky as you think.” He interrupts you in the middle of talking, brushing his hair.

You frown, looking in disbelief at the boy, a little upset from the news. Touching your phone was okay, but taking a call and not saying anything, it just fell wrong.

“So why were you trying so hard to force me to talk?” The questions came a little more aggressive than intended, but who could you blame when your private life was exposed so easily. Truth being that you felt not as angry as embarrassed, never sharing such information before leaving them in the dark.

“I know you would be angry when I tell you about the phone - which I was right about.” He pouts looking somewhere in shame, like a child that was caught with sneaking sweets.

“But it doesn’t matter, what are you going to do without help? It’s not like our boss will gave you a rise from nothing, and do not even think about starting another job - we have studies, it would be plain stupid unless you ask your family for help, you never mentioned them but they would understand right?.”

“They sure would.” You sneer, standing up from the comfort of his lap. Your smile turned down on the mention of those people, it's not like you want to have something going on with them, it would be asking satan for help and that always comes with a price. “Thanks for everything Jimin, but I will be alright.” You add walking back to the hatstand where your hoodie hangs, grabbing it with your free hand, second one carrying the bag. Jimin's eyes follow you, surprised by the sudden movement and innocently big, like he waited for some better explanations - which he won’t get.

“B-but wait! Where are you going, don’t leave me like that!” You heard the shouts, desperate movements in the previous room meaning the boy tried to catch up, however you were long ago outside the cute coffee shop, starting the journey to your quiet apartment. Maybe it was mean, and maybe Jimin was too good to be treated like this, but your own mood was now too fragile to stay in the same room as the insistent boy.

Autumn wind welcoming you once again, cold weather sneaking inside your clothes, the light hoodie not doing any justice with such temperature - still it was the only thing you owned with better quality. Head full of thoughts a little overcrowded with a starting headache, not letting you walk in a peace you somehow needed just now.

Walk to your house - at least the recent one, was not one of the long one, rather passing as a nice stroll. And even though your shifts ended in night hours, the quiet and calm way never made you feel scared of any sudden dangers awaiting you on Seoul's streets. It was a nice neighborhood, one where families that were a little lower than middle class tried to make a living, keeping their kids in a safe environment. Happy smiles and laughs welcoming you sometimes in the morning, kids rushing to their own school, greeting you even after those months you stayed there, only making you nostalgic at the thought of leaving such a safe haven.

So it was more than surprising when a quick footstep rang in your ears, soon nearing you even faster. Your beating heart now rapidly knocks in your chest, as your eyes try to search for the reason for those sounds.

You didn’t need to search for loong, soon hearing the screech of a voice not so far from you. “Y/n! Wait for me!” It was even worse when the little man started to dramatically draw his hands to touch, however your concern only lay in the thought of waking up the whole neighborhood. Eyes slitted, an annoyed expression crossing your face at the sight of the panting boy, soon stopping before you, not without tripping and nearly taking you with him. “You… really want to kill me.”

Heavy breath hitting your face, his voice strained and tired from the miles he needed to run to catch up to you. You however were more than a little shocked - yes Jimin is stubborn, and yes he is the person to run after someone just because the said person lost a penny, but his appearance here was different. It was crossing the invisible line you both draw, accepting each other's bubble of comfort.

So the question still stayed, your face hard with a thundering gaze waiting for the boy to calm a bit.

“Why did you suddenly leave?” Seriousness leaked out from his tone, however the way his eyes scrunched only meant that he indeed felt a little hurt from your previous action. And you don’t even wonder why, knowing how your choices could wound the innocent boy. “Is it about your family? If its a soft topic we can never talk about it ag-”

“You want me to walk away again?” His eyes got bigger at your cold tone, his foot taking a step back. Your family, the topic you did not want to bring up today, explaining the harsh demeanor you suddenly took. Eyes however softened as fast as they met the boy’s hurted ones, a gulp of remorse sliding down your throat. “Look - I appreciate your help but I don’t need a person to be helpless with.” You took a step forward placing your hands on the boy's arm, squeezing it in reassurement. Looking him straight into eyes a sight left your mouth soon forming in a little awkward smile - the only one you could force yourself into. “You helped me enough, there is nothing else you can do, It’s not your battle to fight you have your own problems and asking you to take mine would be cruel.”

And how awful it was to turn back leaving him again, you did just that, giving him the last pat with a smile. His own mouth opening and closing, agape from the schock you probably left him. And you were sure that this time he will let it go, your words full of coldness not leaving room for arguments.

“But what if I do?” His voice stopped you in the middle of the step, freezing your form with a new squeeze in stomach. You did want to hope for nothing, feeling how your eyes got bigger in surprise, being so close to turning back to face the blonde boy. “What if I can do something?”

“Jimin we are over it - I won’t take any of your mo-”

“I didn’t mean that. I’m not that stupid to not understand first hundret times you made it clear.”” You turn at his clear voice, full of seriousness and unsaid promises. New thoughts fell over your messy mind, Jimin’s voice still ringing in your ears as well as the hot gaze he kept on you, fixated on your weirdly sluggish posture. You were more than confused, his help however not new for you, the sudden change of demeanor was like a bucket of cold water maybe pushing you into admitting that the boy indeed had some kind of solution. “Please try to listen to me first and please try to be open minded.” He adds taking a big breath making him close his eyes for a second, only to stare at you even more firmly, nearly hiding his shaky hands. A silent nod from you lighted once again the enduring fire of his eyes.

Now you were even more curious.

“What if I get you a client?” Innocent question, firstly confusing you even more with the weird words, the realization came with your mouth opening a look of disbelief crossing your eyes for a second even if you tried to remind yourself that you situation it's not the one to be judgy.

“You do-”

“Let me finish, please?” And you could not find the power in yourself to not give in. Looking straight into his gaze you closed your mouth, still hanging from the previous schock you experienced. “I was in the same place as you some years ago, a broke student without any help or hope - and I know what you want to say, but it's not as bad as it seems. You don’t even know how much I wish that at that time I had better option, but there was none and probably won’t be if I still want to chase my dreams The job is really not that bad, people don’t know, they do not need to know - even if they wanted the community of them would not allow it cause they want only that - discretion.”

You winced, the cold brushing your cheeks even more from the chill night, moon being your only source of light shining at boy’s figure like in some kind of movie. And to be completely honest, you indeed feel like in some kind of drama, emotions oozing from both of you in waves crashing in the middle with a tension to it. You didn’t want to seem rude, your face trying to stay some kind of neutral, however you knew that Jimin saw the first pull you unconsciously did, decided to let it slip instead looking at you with even more solemnity.

Yeah you knew about his past, history he one time told you in the middle of breakdown, then seemingly crazy and full of hardship, now you started to see yourself in the boy, his place now taken by you in the most awful way.

“It’s really not that bad Y/n” He whispers, voice full of softness you were thankful about. You felt breakable, the thought of actually doing it scaring you with how probable it really is. “I’m so sorry I can't do more, but it’s the only way I can help.”

You didn’t even realize when he came so close, touching your arm with his little bigger hands clenching it. Your eyes squeezed as your hands fell to your sides lifelessly, emotions now once again leaving you a little too suddenly, the grip you always had on your life slipping from your grasp with a gasp. It was hard, facing something you worked so long for only to ruin it because of such a thing as money. It was so funny, your own younger self laughing at you probably, telling you how your choices led you to that state.

“It’s really the end huh?” You didn’t need to look to know about the sad gaze he momentarily gave you. Arm sneaking around your shoulders, your posture seemingly smaller than normally, bringing you to the warm body of the blonde boy. Not a word said, only the silence being louder than aggressive shouting.

There was no need for a better explanation, your mind was already processing the idea of selling yourself to someone, and how shocking it could be that it never crossed your mind before. You can’t say the job disgusted you, you can't say it did not leave you with a sour taste on your tongue, like something is wrong with the image of you in such an environment again.

Again.

Well that was something that did not sit right with you, running away your whole life from it, now going back to the cave of a tiger - conscious suicade.

Face plastered on the surface of the brown coat, fluffy fabric brushing your face with every breath he took. The gesture leaves you with a heavy heart, not understanding why Jimin wanted to help you so much. Was it an obligation? Did he feel like he owed you something?

You just couldn't grasp the idea why, why was he so insistent, it’s only you in the end, a friend from the same coffee shop he worked in, someone who is not important in his life, someone who he will leave when the time comes. So why?

And maybe with the next gust of wind, a quiet whisper in your ear you realized deep down, that he was the first person in your life which genuinely cared for you. However the musky scent and heavy thoughts still repeated the same question, but you knew somewhere in your mind that it’s only a matter of time when the quiet suggestion will be proven.

“It’s getting late. You should go home.” A silent nod, your head still leaning on his shoulders, too tired to move. His hands petting your hair, a quiet hum leaving his mouth while he did it, melody not familiar, dancing in the silence of the night. You sighted taking one step back, immediately feeling a cold breeze hitting you, the source of heat now gone, making you shiver in the lighter clothes. Little smile screeching on your lips after you saw his worried gaze, sitting on your figure not planning to move.

“You too.” Sticking your hands into the big pocket of your hoodie, you turned your head in the way he came nodding. None of you moved, gaze met in the middle as you tried to not show how cold you really wera, body shaking in unnatural ways wanting to move for some kind of warm up.

He did not smile, even after your own stretched into a larger one, you decided not to pry and just turn around with a silent wave, head ahead of you eyes looking in the dark depths of the street where you lived. He knew you were not alright, gaze piercing you through every layer you tried to put in a situation like this, a copy mechanism you were not that proud of. And so with the head lowered you took the first step away not minding the still lingering stare on your shoulders.

The main worry now being the cold weather and little clothes that shielded you from it, the idea of the whole conversation put somewhere on the side.

However, he and you were pretty well aware of what is going to happen the next day.

In the end it's you who soon is not even going to possess own body.

----

Sleepless nights were not new, the feeling of tiredness you could not just wipe with the piece of the fabric a familiar one, the eyes trying to stay focused on things even though they were so hard to close themself for some sweet time, just to be forcefully open. Two words were enough for you to not hide the utter ache, you so perfectly masked in the middle of the coldest night.

And so maybe it was the cold keeping you awake in the dark, the blanket not enough to warm up your lifeless limbs, or maybe the lingering touches of the blonde boy that stayed even after so many afters after the whole conversation.

You felt weak, blinking in the grey room watching the wall like it would show something incredible, the scratches on it similar to the one you did when the stress was too much, decorating pieces of your skin like an art. The night was a big blur, hours now looking at the nonexisting stuff passed with a blink of an eye only to put you in another of the memories.

Blonde hair somewhere there scrolled in the side of your mind. Oh yeah, the said boy came the next day, look on his face too hard to forget as the next wall you built was just ruined.

He looked at you from behind his eyelashes with eyes dimmed with a sort of fog. Silence being the only comfort in the moment - early morning helping with it. He knew that this time the situation did not have many options, not any without any loss.

However he came, with a mind to let you help with thinking of any other ideas to help you, the conversation from the other night forgotten after he stepped in the gloomy apartament. And it doesn’t surprise you, the look you probably carried spoke for himself.

In his hands soon layed inconspicuously looking scrap of paper, tempting with his appearance like the most loucioust sin. He read it with squinted eyes, not needing a lot of time to find out what exactly the letter applied to.

What surprised him after such information is, how really the girl hid behind such an innocent facade, the new wave of respect crashed on him with the thought how strong you really are to not ask for help. The human thing was to linger, searching for attention so long to have someone finally do everything for us.

He had money, he had it so much that he could easily help her for next month, but he knew how every proposition like that would end up.

In the end they were really similar.

“Maybe there is another way.” He cut the silence, after a while regretting the action. Eyes met somewhere in the middle and both of their gaze was meaningful enough to answer his void of hope. “Have you tried to talk with the flat owner?”

Grimace on your face once again was enough, you shook your head remembering not the best meeting with the older man. “Many times. The guy is purely business oriented, he doesn’t care about your private life but if you pay everything - which as you can see I have a problem with.”

“I know that it’s a hard topic, but what about your family. There needs to be at least one person.” You looked down, carpet under your feets still fluffy and soft under your feet, the silence embracing you both. Jimin awkwardly scratched his arm, biting his lips in the process, the topic one again making your mood even worse. “Im sorr-”

“There is no need, it doesn’t matter anyway. My family is off limits when it comes to those types of things.” You cut him off, looking from the side at the little embarrassed boy. A sigh leaves your mouth as you lean on to your old couch, ruffling your hair after. “Jimin there is really no other way. Your option is the only thing I can do, even if the idea scares me.”

He looked at you with a small smile, the memories from his past coming back to him, when it was him who was sitting at your place, maybe with a different situation, but the fear in the eyes remained the same. He sat next to you, hand catching yours latching fingers with yours, as if that small gesture was supposed to pass everything.

And maybe it was like that, however how sweet and calming the motion wouldn’t be, nothing has been solved, and your decision it's going to change your life completely.

“You start to accept it with time.” He whispers tightening the grip on your head, the sentence seemingly had a bit more to the story. You guessed he tried not only to convince you both himself too.

Idea still fresh in your mind, hard to process it actually is going to happen, eyes meeting once again with the dark ones of the boy, millions of heistations flowing in the circle of your pupils.

“What If I don’t want to accept it? Jimin, I'm going to sell myself like some kind of animal.” You started, soon seeing how every word pierced the boy, a hurt crossing his face for a while. However he himself knew how his job was not something to brag about, something that should be kept to yourself.

“First - you are not going to be a prostitute, it’s their job. Second - you are not selling yourself, your body maybe, your time - yes. This whole messed up business, which no one truly understands, it's not only based on pleasure and successful bargain. The people you are going to provide services will require more, however you too will be able to demand - and that’s the difference.” He instinctively stood up, turning his back to you to hide his face for you.

You decided not to question that, the topic probably being equally hard for him. Following his figure, you listened to every word which could calm your buzzing nerves.

“Mone-” You started trying to guess about the demand he was talking about. The cash suggests itself in your mind. The boy quickly turned back, dark eyes catching your breath in the middle.

“Respect.” He finished, taking an earlier abandoned cup of tea to his hand. You were confused, your gaze spoke for himself, the utter questions building with every quiet minute he left you with. “Do you know why so few people are able to survive in such a business, or why so few people know about it?” He asked knowing fully he won't get any answer from you. He sighted brushing his blonde hair back, a little oliy from the last day of work, he came to the other side of the room sitting on one of the smaller tables just before you.

“You will need to play a role, you will become an actress in real life without the power to question your own character. People that are directors in fact are going to be your clients, giving you the script you will need to act on. In the beginning it’s going to be hard, but with time you will understand that you can either love it or you are someone who is not suitable for such a job.”

So many questions, which only bundled up with the said words. A weird twinge in your heart, forcing you to stop thinking about it like a sweet temptation, however the beautiful words he wrapped everything with stronger. The idea seems so easy, so free and so good, too good to be true.

You looked at him, the tiredness hitting you suddenly but so many not arranged issues kept you on your toes, so with the remaining power you sighed rubbing your eyes. You decided, your last way out.

“How i'm even going to start?” The question filled him with a relife, not understanding exactly why, the thought of having someone close in the same job loaded him with unanswered happiness. He gazed back, the look making you sit more comfortable forcing your attention directly at him.

“The clients are mostly the people you least expect to. Although they are not people which can afford a whore - lame millionaires or self-proclaimed gangsters. Don’t get me wrong but if they were them they could have just bought the random first person that is willing to do everything they want, for them however the most important is discretion and loyalty.” He started, stopping for a while to take out his phone and quickly search something on it.

With one move he showed you a picture of a man, you strangely knew. Black hair, similar to the blackness of the sky so different from the boy sitting just before you and a beautiful porcelain looking skin. He looked proud, even as a imagine the frozen photo oozing of confidence and power.

You knew those people pretty well, a little too well. Too proud for their own good and too proud to admit their wrongs, making money in such a way to not get attention if they are dirty or not. Familiar contempt towards others. You tried so hard to run away just from people like that, you hoped the clients Jimin was talking about are just the little CEO’s, not that important or dangerous.

And how ironic it was that you yourself are going to willingly put yourself in such a toxic environment again, people that are more influential than politicians and authorities. Next question popping on the side, how the blonde boy survived there without any knowledge.

“I see you can guess about who i’m talking about, and It’s not your first contact with them, right?” He started, brushing his hair once again, a habit you noticed. He needed to admit that your expression put him in uneasiness, look on your face nearly scared like a child that watched horror for the first time. He didn’t want to annoy the topic, leaving it in the air with the restless tension, instead he closed his phone hiding it back into his pocket.

His eyes still on you, your mind somewhere else as the quietness of the room started to spin around. The unanswered question lingered on your tongue, kept in the end of your mouth like some kind of secret. And as you thought it’s the end, the little ping came from the pocket he put his phone into.

“Well, I don’t know If you are interested but there is someone who is willing meet.”

[luvnami]

𝐎𝐜𝐞𝐚𝐧 (here) | 𝐖𝐚𝐯𝐞𝐬 | 𝐄𝐩𝐢𝐥𝐨𝐠𝐮𝐞 | 𝐀𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐍𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬

𝐀𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐍𝐨𝐭𝐞 - This is my entry for @jjkmag​ Summer Collab! It’s my first long fic in a while but I had a lot of fun writing this (that isn’t to say I think it’s very good. I hope the plot/finality was pulled off decently ok lol). I hope you enjoy it! I chose the prompt 'coming of age', though there are definitely scenes where the other prompts were present as well. Reblogs, comments, shares and likes are really appreciated!!

𝐁𝐞𝐭𝐚 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐬 - @getousuguruwife​ @amjustagirl​ @aliteama​

𝐂𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠 - Amnesia, Memory loss, Blood, Mild gore, Death, Blood loss, Bullying, Mild Racism (only in the first part), Corpses, Food, Manga spoilers, Pre-canon and canon compliant to a certain extent, Nightmares

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲 - Nanami Kento's life has been... Good, bad, and everything in between. He (and many others) thinks he's mature, independent, the definition of what a proper adult should be like. But really, the only way he's made it this far is because you've been holding his hand the entire time.

𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐂𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 - 6.4k

The first memory Nanami has of you sits in a blurry haze at the back of his mind.

You’re probably four or five years old at best, squatting by a puddle in the empty kindergarten playground. Nanami wonders what made him waddle over to you that warm afternoon.

His shoes, scribbled with ugly caricatures in marker, carry him to the other side of the puddle. A shadow cast by a plastic slide slices your features neatly in half like a Greek theatre mask. Nanami doesn’t speak a word to you as he stares at your chubby fingers that push a fallen leaf around in the water as the surface ripples silently.

You look up at Nanami. He’s an odd child, excluded by the other kindergarteners because of how quiet and strange he is. Nanami’s blond hair is abnormal to the immature local Japanese children. They knee the back of his legs while calling him names like ‘banana-gaijin!’ and making fun of his fancy leather shoes.

“Do you wanna play with me?”

Nanami wonders if the words you speak to him are from your heart or something constructed from a plan to bully him again.

“My mama taught me how to make boats with leaves. See?” You point to the puddle. “We can race them.”

Nanami carefully selects a leaf off of the playground’s floor. It’s still green, freshly fallen from its branch. You grin toothily, your eyes sparkling.

“That’s a perfect leaf!” you declare.

Nanami thinks he wants to play with you forever.

He follows you around in school like a lost puppy after that, clutching his hands nervously when you stand up to the children who bully him. Nanami wonders if you’ll ever turn your back on him. He arrives earlier than you every morning and hurriedly scrubs at your table with his handkerchief to get rid of nasty words and obscene drawings, heart thumping against his cotton polo. When his mother asks him why his new handkerchief is so dirty, he remains silent and grips the hem of his shirt tightly.

Children are children; Nanami learns. Afraid of abnormalities, they defend their right to innocence and ego with harsh words and various schemes. He learns to ignore the whispers behind his back. What he can’t disregard, though, is when they lash out at you.

They jeer when you trip during P.E. classes and bump into you on purpose when you carry your lunch tray. You pretend that it doesn’t hurt when Nanami holds your hand gently and leads you to the nurse’s office with scraped knees, hiccuping and swiping at your eyes roughly.

He wonders why you don’t take the easy way out and just stop being friends with him. What’s wrong with you? You hold him tightly, a bundle of thorns, in your soft hands and pretend that you’re not bleeding.

“Ken-chan?” you sniffle.

He turns.

“You’re my best friend, right?”

Nanami gulps. He doesn’t question why you cry on graduation day, bidding your final farewell to him with vague promises of meeting in the same elementary school. Something in his chest doesn’t sit right; the kind of feeling when his mother threw out his old stuffed toys after she deemed him too old for them anymore.

He watches you grow smaller and smaller in the rear window of his family car till you’re the size of an ant, his knees digging into the leather seats.

“Sit down, Kento,” his father chides.

Nanami ignores him. He watches you wave your hand in the air as the car turns around the corner and lurches into the seat.

☆*: .｡.

Nanami’s genuinely surprised when he finds out that his assigned seat is right next to you on the first day of elementary school. You’re no different, mouth wide open in an ‘o’ as you stare at him.“Ken-chan!”

You almost yell, and Nanami shushes you as his face heats up. He finds out that your mothers had conspired to put the both of you into the same school. He can’t tell if that’s a good or bad thing just yet, but peace settles into his chest the same way the wings of a bird return to its sides after flight when you giggle at his flustered expression.

Through nine years of elementary and junior high school together, Nanami learns that you always arrange the tips of your pencils to face the right side of your pencil box, and you keep the torn bits of movie tickets shoved into your bedside drawer. You find that Nanami has a knack for dry humour — he’s blunt at every moment possible (which caused much distress after he talked back to a teacher that one time) and can usually be bribed for any favour as long as you pay him in food.

What the both of you find oddly shocking, though, is that no one else can see the creatures that swim through walls and perch in dark corners of the school.

They make you sweat whenever they get too close, bulbous eyes and strange bodies twisting in ways that shouldn’t be physically possible. Sometimes they make noises, whispering or coaxing or shrieking or crying in broken sentences.

Nanami learns to treat them as background noise. You, on the other hand, find that a little more complicated. Sometimes you latch onto him when one brushes against your arm, squeaking and swatting at them in an attempt to chase them away.

“They’re so gross!” you’d whine, pressing yourself even closer to Nanami. “Did you see that one in the gym yesterday? It had tentacles!”

In cases like this, the blond clears his throat and ignores you, averting his gaze. He doesn’t admit to anyone, not even himself, that the warmth of your skin through your uniform makes his heart skip a beat. You’ve grown so close to him that you even know that Nanami sleeps with Doraemon pajamas (absolutely, abhorrently embarrassing. He made his mother throw them out the night after you came over for a sleepover). It was inevitable for him to develop feelings.

Nanami shoves his feelings below a lid and sits on top of it, keeping them under lock and key. He’s sure this is just something to do with puppy love or ‘infatuations’ that are underlined in the puberty print-outs the school distributed, alongside scientific diagrams of genitals that the boys in his class giggle at.

Being friends is enough. Or so he thinks, anyway.

☆*: .｡.

It’s a Friday evening when the sky is dark, and street lights flicker in the distance. Nanami munches away on melon bread from a convenience store while you sip on a carton of juice. Your clubs had ended late today, so the sun was down by the time you left school.

“How’s the bread?” you ask, slurping up the last drops of your drink.

Nanami chews and swallows while you dab at your mouth with a yellow cotton handkerchief.

“It’s okay. Not as good as a bakery’s, though. Kinda stale.”

He crumples the plastic packaging in his hand and sticks it into his pocket, planning to dispose of it later. The both of you round the corner to the bus stop, and your feet fall still. A large curse sits in the middle of the road.

Numerous cars are crumpled like drink cans, smoke, and gasoline leaking onto the streets. There’s blood. Too much blood, in fact, that they seem like puddles of rain on the dark tarmac. Your juice box drops from your hand.

The curse turns to you, its teeth split vertically down the centre of what constitutes a face. Multiple eyes run down the length of its engorged body where various hands and feet stick out at random parts.

“Blood… Blood…” it moans in a cryptic voice.

Nanami stands with his feet frozen to the ground, eyes wide in horror. His knuckles turn white as he grips his school bag. Run, run, run! He screams internally, but his limbs don’t listen to him. The curse slides over the road towards him, slipping through the blood easily.

“Give me… Your blood…”

A part of the curse’s body bubbles up into a large hand. It swings itself back before throwing its newly created appendage towards Nanami. RUN RUN RUN! His legs don’t move. He squeezes his eyes shut, awaiting the impact. Except that it doesn’t hit him. Nothing hurts, except the shrill scream that pierces his ears. Nanami’s eyes snap open in horror. 

“Kento!” you yell, dangling upside down as the curse pulls you towards its mouth.

Your school bag lays on the ground below, books scattered as their pages turn red.  

“Run!”

Nanami drops everything as he scrambles towards you, tripping over his own two feet and landing face-first in the blood. His hands and knees sting. He shoves himself and gets up with his teeth clenched. You kick your feet in the air in a poor attempt to escape the curse’s grip but to no avail. Another groan is squeezed out of you as the curse opens its mouth, the foul stench of rotting bodies engulfing you.

“Run, Kento!” you plead.

How can he turn his back on you? Sweat drips down his forehead as Nanami pulls his hand back. The adrenaline that rushes through his blood clears in a split-second moment of raw emotion; anger, disappointment, confusion, sadness. A tingling sort of energy floods his body, and Nanami takes a sharp breath of air. He sees something like a ruler — a line divided equally with ten markings, the seventh one crossed out. His fist connects with it.

The curse lets out a weak moan of pain, shaking you around as it recoils from Nanami’s hit. It’s not much, just a surface injury at most. Nanami’s limbs tremble with exertion. One more time, again and again, until you’re safe-

A thick, gross liquid engulfs Nanami as the curse explodes in front of his very eyes. He coughs, running a slimy hand over his face. It smells like death.

“Woah! You put too much into that again, Satoru.” 

“Shut up!”

Nanami looks up as he hears footsteps move towards him, the quiet splashing of blood beneath shoes.

“Ugh, this place is so gross.”

“You okay there, kiddo?”

Nanami looks up to find a male with his hair pulled back into a bun staring at him. Behind him is a white-haired teenager with sunglasses (strange, hasn’t the sun already gone down?) and an imposing-looking man.

Where are you?

Nanami glances around frantically amidst the dead bodies that lie on the ground. Not you, not you, not- A tiny sliver of hope slips into his heart when he spots your uniform, and he stumbles over.

“Woah! Slow down!”

He calls out your name, slipping and collapsing onto his knees. Your eyes are closed, and a wound on your head oozes blood. A young girl with short hair reaches out to touch you, but Nanami pulls you into his chest, his eyes wide.

“Don’t,” he whispers.

His head spins. Are these good people? How did they just destroy that big monster? He hadn’t even seen them coming. Were they going to hurt you?

“Calm down, man! We’re good guys.”

“No one’s going to trust you when you say that, Satoru.”

The girl stares at Nanami.

“I’ll take care of your injuries. Can you let me see them, please?”

He relaxes. His grip on you loosens, and the girl feels for your pulse, nodding in affirmation.

“Alive.”

Nanami breathes a sigh of relief. At this realisation, his body begins to tremble like a leaf in the wind. He digs his nails into his palms but still they quiver. His heart pounds in his chest and he struggles to take a deep breath, exhaustion overtaking him.

“Hey, you okay?”

His eyes fall shut. 

☆*: .｡.

Nanami finds out over a hot cup of tea that those monsters are called curses, and not everyone can see them.

“Lucky you!” Gojo chimes in.

Lucky? His face wrinkles in despair and Getou laughs so loud at his reaction that he has to step out of the room.

Nanami had sustained minor injuries — nothing beyond a few scrapes and some trauma. You were fine for the most part. After hitting your head on the ground, you remained unconscious for a few more days after Nanami had woken up. You were covered in a few bruises, but otherwise alright. 

Nanami was infinitely thankful for that

Yaga tells him that he has enough aptitude to become a full-fledged sorcerer. The school he teaches at is called Jujutsu High and is located on the outskirts of Tokyo. Since he’s in his final year of junior high, why not give it a thought if he wants to join them? Nanami holds Yaga’s name card numbly.

He looks up at Yaga, only one objective clear in his mind. He doesn’t want to see you hurt any longer.

“Will you teach me how to exorcise curses?” he asks.

Gojo laughs outrightly and Geto snorts. Yaga gives him a confident smile, clapping Nanami on the shoulder (he doesn’t quite like that, but he overlooks it for now).

“You can count on that.”

☆*: .｡.

Nanami’s a little apprehensive about entering Jujutsu High, especially when you decide to enrol as well. Given the ability to see curses, you were adamant about learning to help others with this ability you were gifted with. He relented and sulked for the rest of the day until you gave him a cup of pudding.

The first day Nanami and you enter Jujutsu Tech, you meet a wide-eyed boy named Haibara Yu. He’s overly optimistic and passionate — precisely the kind of person that Nanami tires of interacting with. In fact, the very first thing Haibara says upon meeting the both of you irritates him.

“Woah! Blondie, are you from an emo band or something? Your hair really matches the vibe!” Haibara had gasped.

You struggled to suppress your giggles, biting on your lower lip as you turned to the side. Nanami, on the other hand, didn’t find it quite as funny.

“No, I’m not. Nice to meet you too,” he replied monotonously.

It takes all of the following month for Nanami to get used to Haibara’s eccentricities. He always does his best during training, mingles enthusiastically with the upperclassmen and chows down on at least two bowls of rice during break time. The most annoying part about him is how Haibara seems to get along so well with you.

You laugh too loudly for Nanami’s liking at his jokes, squeeze in between Haibara and him (brushing shoulders with the both of them! Seriously!) when they’re standing together just to listen in on Haibara’s monologuing, and sometimes even end up sparring with him instead of Nanami.

The blond curses that there is an odd number of first years and peers in the mirror after his shower as he wonders what he would look like with a black bowl cut. He even tries to finish more than one serving of ginger pork on one particular day and gets sent to the school nurse for a tummy ache.

Though, the three of you have chemistry that works out when fighting curses. Nanami is the primary damage dealer of the group, while you learn how to provide support with Haibara and create openings for Nanami to attack. So on your first ‘real group mission’ assigned to you by Yaga, you can’t help but set off with overflowing excitement.

It isn’t often that you have the opportunity to step outside of Jujutsu High on your own without supervision. Even on weekends, you’re usually expected to train or study. The sun shines warmly down upon the streets of Asakusa, and tourists and locals alike swarm the city area.

“Hey! We should totally give Sensou-ji Temple a visit later!” Haibara suggests, pumping his fist in the air.

“We’re not here to sightsee,” Nanami sighs.

“That’s what you said the last time we went to Okinawa, and guess what, Nanamin! We didn’t even get to try their sushi!”

“Yeah, and you forgot to bring back souvenirs for me, Ken-chan,” you chime in.

“I told you to stop adding -chan to my name.” 

“Why not? Doesn’t it sound cute?” 

“Mhm!”

Haibara nods furiously. Nanami ignores the both of you with a sigh. He slings a bag containing his sword over his shoulder once more as the crowd barely makes space for you to move through.

“We can’t take too long,” he relents.

The cheers and high-fives that you and Haibara give each other make a vein bulge on Nanami’s temple. He tries not to read too much into the way you immediately begin discussing what places to visit and eat at with Haibara — didn’t you care for his opinion? He shakes his head and increases his pace, leaving the both of you behind.

Nanami ignores the cries of ‘Ken-chan!’ and ‘Nanamin!’ that ring out through the crowd. Whatever. If you want to be with Haibara, then Nanami will gladly get out of the way for you. He drags his feet on the pavement and settles for a cup of iced tea in a nearby cafe gloomily.

What Nanami is doing is… childish. He knows, at the very least, that he should be happy the both of you have met a nice new friend. But he can’t help the jealousy that rises in his chest like smoke in a chimney when he sees you cling onto Haibara the same way you used to do to him.

Was Haibara nicer, more good-looking, stronger, funnier, gentler, better than every single trait in Nanami combined? You no longer ask Nanami how he slept the previous night, instead running over to Haibara and greeting him cheerily. Forget about how you used to come over to Nanami’s house to study after school — you and Haibara disappear to who knows where after training everyday.

He bites down on his straw. The bitter taste of a lemon seed fills his mouth and Nanami spits it out onto a napkin with more force than necessary. He takes a deep breath. He should make things clear to you, then, and let you know how he feels about you. To him, it sounds a little like love.

Nanami’s face flushes with embarrassment. Love is… Love isn’t this. It definitely isn’t getting jealous over your relationships with other people, nor is it forcing you to accept his feelings out of spite. He finishes the last bit of his iced tea, the straw making a gurgling noise as it fails to suck up any more liquid. He leaves his money by the counter and walks back outside, returning his heart back to its safe, clicking the lock shut once more. His shoulders sag as he lets out a pent-up sigh.

Nanami squints at his phone. The golden sunlight makes it difficult to read his messages, but he manages to pick out four missed calls from you and a hundred text messages from Haibara. His blood runs cold when he scrolls to the last text that he received.

Haibara Yu, 4.25p.m.:  curse help 6 cho

It’s currently 4.35p.m. 6-chome is a 15 minutes walk away, five minutes if he sprints fast enough. Nanami hopes that you’re okay, that Haibara has enough sense to call for other back-up or avoid the curse.

Nanami’s feet pound under him as he shoves his way through the crowds, earning distasteful looks and swears. He doesn’t care. Not when you and Haibara are facing a possible grade 2 curse alone, and not when it’s because of Nanami’s irresponsibility and useless emotions that had caused the three of you to be separated.

His breath comes quick and hard and his thighs burn, screaming for relief. He makes a sharp turn and almost crashes into a bicycle.

“Watch where you’re going!” an angry housewife yells, but her words fall on deaf ears.

Just a little more, he begs.

Nanami hears the fighting before he sees it. The sound of metal meeting metal and the roar of the curse sound uncharacteristically comforting to him as he draws his sword, racing to bear a fighting stance.

But he’s too late.

“Yu!” you cry out as Haibara crumples onto the ground.

His eyes meet Nanami’s. His uniform is tattered, face bearing wounds and his right arm is bent at an unnatural shape, almost like a knotted tree branch. You seem relatively unhurt, although your breathing is laboured.

“Kento,” Haibara wheezes.

Nanami’s feet don’t move. His chest heaves, perspiration pouring down his face and drenching his uniform. The grip on his sword slips ever so slightly. The curse stands at the end of a ruined district. You aren’t trained to fight in such close quarters, or reduce the number of casualties to a bare minimum. 

And Nanami hadn’t been here to provide damage to exorcise it.

“Who are you? Another small fry?” the curse scoffs.

It takes the body of a geisha, dressed in luxurious robes that whip about in the air. Consciousness? This isn’t a grade 2 by any means — it’s a special grade curse. The will to fight slips out of Nanami like water from a cup, trickling from the top of his head to the tips of his toes.

“Haibara!” Nanami shouts.

The male gives Nanami one last smile from where he is.

“You’ve got it from here,” he whispers, lips barely moving.

The geisha stretches out its hand, a portion of its obi moving along with it. You and Nanami watch in horror as Haibara’s head is neatly decapitated from his body. His blood drips off of the ends of the robes as the curse cackles, his head rolling to a stop as his half-closed eyes stare up at Nanami like a dead fish’s.

“You think you can beat me? Look at your little friend!”

Fury rushes into Nanami like a wave meeting the shore.

“You’ll die here by my hands!” the curse roars.

You take a step back as the geisha prepares to launch another attack, silk sashes drawn back into the sky before they plunge back at you two in an aerial attack. Nanami leaps through the attacks as his body moves faster than he can process it.

You, on the other hand, create a shield out of cursed energy to try and deflect the attacks. At the very least, Haibara deserves a proper burial. There isn’t time for mourning now, and you have to wipe away the tears that pool in your eyes. You try to ignore the way his head rolls closer to your foot and bumps against it gently.

Nanami lets out a yell of anger. His cursed energy swells as he cuts his way through the sashes, movement based on momentum than anything else at this point. His mind is clouded with regret and frustration. Nanami channels his anger into his sword, the ten destined lines appearing before his eyes once more.

The curse lets out a cry of pain as it stumbles back, sashes redrawn as it tries to gauge its wounds. Blood gushes from a slash on its side and Nanami darts forward again — again, again, again, until its dead. His legs, however, are weaker than what he thinks they can bear. Nanami stumbles in his step.

“Ken!” you shout.

The curse grins. It takes little to no time to regenerate, skin overlapping raw flesh as it gets back onto its feet.

“You’re weak,” it taunts. “First your friend, now you. I’ll be sure to savour the last one as well!”

Nanami struggles to get back onto his feet. He gasps, heart ripping a hole through his chest. He’s so exhausted; so worn out, that his arms refuse to raise his sword above chest height. He curses.

You run over to Nanami, grabbing his uniform and dragging him back. The curse starts to chant ominously. Its face turns dark, taking steps that sway its body with thick, lacquered geta. You shove Nanami back as you’re engulfed by its domain, swallowed up by darkness and spit into a tatami room. He barely has time to call your name before you disappear.

“Shit!”

Nanami stumbles back onto his feet, but sinks down onto his knees again. His shoulders quake as he tries to suck in breaths of air, but his throat is too dry. He coughs and adjusts his grip on his sword. Shit, shit, shit. All of his partners tossed themselves at death as if it was an idle thing just to protect him. What was Nanami doing? He would never become a sorcerer like this, never be able to protect you.

He grits his teeth. He’ll never be enough.

Nanami picks up his sword, wrapping his fingers around its hilt one more time. He dashes towards the domain, tasting iron as he hacks and slashes at it. Again, again, and again. His hands turn numb and his cursed energy flickers like a candle’s flame, but there’s one thing Nanami’s insistent on — getting you out of there.

The domain finally collapses as Nanami finally steadies himself on his feet. You roll to the ground, breath shallow. Your uniform is sliced up in different areas and a pool of blood begins to spread where your head meets the floor.

“Ken…?” you whisper.

Nanami smells it — the scent of death. Why did he ever choose to become a sorcerer over an ordinary high school life? He wouldn’t have dragged you into this mess, caused you to be hurt time and time again. Nanami calls out your name tentatively. You don’t respond.

The curse roars with laughter as your eyes fall shut, “Don’t you see how I’m so strong? You’re nothing compared to me-”

Nanami sees red. He launches himself forward, brandishing his sword even if it’s for the last time.

He doesn’t remember what happens afterwards.

Nanami sinks into a pool of blood, head spinning with exertion. Your body lays to his left, Haibara’s head to his right. He collapses to the ground.

☆*: .｡.

When he comes to, Nanami’s eyes struggle to adjust to the white light that floods the room. It smells vaguely like antiseptic. He slowly sits up, body aching with exhaustion with telltale bandages wrapped around most of his exposed limbs.

A drawn curtain separates his bed from the rest of the room, which he assumes to be Jujutsu Tech’s sickbay. He runs a hand over his face and lies back down, letting sleep take him by the hand and lead him a step further from reality.

Nanami wakes up a second time when Shouko returns to the room. He stares at her, blinking once, then twice.

“Nanami?” she asks softly. “Can you hear me?”

He tries to reply, but his throat is parched. He ends up coughing, wrinkling his face as pain spreads through his ribs. Shouko rushes to get him a glass of water and calls the rest (namely Yaga and Gojo) over. Nanami nurses the glass as Yaga takes a seat by his bed.

There are no questions, only condolences and murmured explanations of what had happened. The only thing Nanami picks up is that you’re alive. That’s more than enough for him to relax, nodding dumbly along to Yaga’s words.

The curse had been on the brink of death when Nanami collapsed. However, he had put up enough of a fight for nearby sorcerers to come to his aid and finish it off. There was no doubt about it — it was a special grade curse. Yaga apologises for the miscommunication and loss of Haibara’s life. Nanami doesn’t reply.

No amount of apologies could turn back time and bring Haibara back.

It takes him a few more days before Nanami’s able to hobble around the school, aided by crutches. Gojo pokes fun at how he seems like a grandpa but even his jokes don’t bear the mean edge they usually do. Getou leaves a can of vending machine coffee by his bedside table and Shouko brings him some wildflowers. Nanami leaves the plush cat Yaga had made for him untouched.

Nanami struggles against the nightmares that plague him. In one Haibara cradles his decapitated head in his own arms, asking Nanami why he hadn’t saved his life; in another you die, guts spilling onto the streets with your eyes bulging from your skull. Nanami wakes up in cold sweat. He calms his breathing alone and doesn’t sleep a single wink.

It’s a rainy day when Shouko lets him enter the morgue. Haibara’s body is laid in a shroud of white, his head positioned to appear attached. Had he ever been so pale? Nanami’s fingers grip his crutches, gritting his teeth.

How long his eyelashes had been! A small scar runs down his left temple (“After my sister shoved me in the playground!” Haibara had chirped), and his bangs remain as perfectly cut as they had been when he died. Nanami half expects him to sit up, to grin and laugh at his twisted face.

“Why’re you so stiff, Nanami? It’s just a joke!” 

Justajokejustajokejustajoke.

A chasm opens up in Nanami’s stomach. His crutches clatter to the floor as he races out of the morgue, stumbling when pain shoots up his right leg. He retches dryly and tears pool in his eyes. Shouko silently covers Haibara and closes the door, Nanami’s tears falling alongside the pouring rain.

That night in his dreams, Haibara slices Nanami’s head off. He wakes up with his heart racing and tears slipping down his cheeks.

Nanami visits you the next day. He had been reluctant to do so — what if you blamed him for everything, for Haibara’s death and your injuries? He wouldn’t be able to bear it, to be hated by you. His hand hovers over your dorm doorknob, hesitating. Nanami takes a deep breath as he swallows his anxiety and opens the door.

It’s as if nothing had ever happened.

You sit on your bed, neatly tucked under the covers with a book sitting on your lap. Warm sunshine pours through the open windows and the penguin plush Nanami had won for you at a festival still sits by your desk. You look up when he walks in.

Nanami calls out your name. You stare at him.

“Sorry, but… Who are you?” you ask quietly, a sense of confusion lacing your words.

He stops by the door and Nanami’s heart sinks to his feet.

“I’m Kento. Nanami Kento,” he repeats, words tasting like ash in his mouth.

Checkered curtains flutter in the wind and the pages of your book butterfly open to an unread chapter. You keep your eyes focused on Nanami, eyebrows slightly furrowed in confusion.

“I don’t know anyone by that name,” you reply.

☆*: .｡.

A toxic mix of trauma and a severe head injury had caused your amnesia. Nanami lays in bed at night, staring up at the ceiling. If only he hadn’t let his emotions overtake him, if only he had been there a minute earlier, if only if only if only. Regret dulls his sense of taste and emotions. He no longer takes joy in eating anything (even those croissants Getou had bought while out on a mission), nor does he even crack a smile at Gojo’s antics.

Nanami returns to training once he is physically well again. He becomes the only first-year to attend Yaga’s classes, sparring practice conducted with the second years. He goes out on missions alone and learns to provide both defense and offense for himself. Nanami trains, he exercises curses, he returns to school. He repeats this same cycle mindlessly over and over again. 

Time heals, they say. Nanami wonders how much time it must take for him to let go of everything.

Nanami learns to hide his disappointment. His face becomes a strong facade for whatever his weak heart truly feels. The quiet sigh he lets out when no one’s around, the stretching of his neck after yet another fruitless day of training — Nanami decides that he’ll leave the world of sorcery once he’s graduated.

Seasons change and Nanami becomes a second year, then a third year. Getou falls away. The seniors graduate and new freshmen enter the school. Nanami keeps these things in the back of his mind as he raises his sword for a countless time, striking the training doll with ease.

You work with Shouko in the infirmary, occasionally helping out with office work. The school had deemed it better to keep you under their care than to release you outside. Like a rehabilitated animal, Nanami thinks.

You still remember no memories of him. Nanami brings you sweets and souvenirs from his missions, letting you trace your fingers over the fancy packaging with a sparkle in your eye. At this, Nanami swallows back his confession of love once more. He can’t bear to burden you with his feelings.

You form new impressions of him. Nanami turns into the stone-faced and adorable boy who treats you like fine China, always sticking his hands out awkwardly when he tries to give you something. The tips of his ears burn red when he lies — especially when you ask him, “Nanami, did you buy this for me?” and he shakes his head furiously.

You think he’s kind. He comforts you when you cry over lost memories, unable to remember the faces in photographs that had once been so familiar. The first thing Nanami does after returning from a mission is to rush to you. Were you okay? Did you have your meals? One time, he came over without getting his injuries checked and collapsed by your feet. You scolded him after that, tenderly dressing his wounds.

“Nanami!” you said crossly, a pout on your face.

He tries to forget how he had asked you to stop calling him ‘Ken-chan’. He ducks his head, hissing when you douse his skin in antiseptic.

Some things don’t change, though. You still keep your pencil box immaculately neat — the tips of your stationery always pointing to the right side. Though you don’t have any more movie ticket stubs, you carefully clip the pictures of your childhood Nanami had given to you together and keep them under your pillow. 

One day, you munch on a yummy biscuit Nanami brought back for you. He sits on the floor and polishes his sword, peering at it from every angle to make sure it’s evenly oiled.

“Nanami?” 

He hums.

“Has anyone ever told you that you look like you’re from an emo boy band? Your hair matches it.” 

Your shy laugh rings out in the room as bile rises in Nanami’s throat. He sheathes his sword and lays it on the ground.  

“Yes, they have.”

He struggles to smile, his gut twisting.

☆*: .｡.

On graduation day, no one else but Nanami receives his certificate with a flower corsage pinned to his chest. The room is empty save for him and Yaga, the chirping of spring birds breaking the silence.

“I’m glad to have been able to teach you, Nanami,” Yaga broods. “You’ve grown a lot.”

Nanami does not reply. He bows deeply and strides out of the main building. All of a sudden, the traditional architecture and nature that surround Jujutsu High seems stifling. His skin crawls with the urge to leave as soon as possible. 

“Nanamin!”

He jumps. Turning around, he finds you grinning happily with a bouquet of flowers in hand.

“Congratulations on your graduation!” you chirp.

Nanami accepts the flowers awkwardly and rests them in the crook of his elbow, his other hand clutching his certificate. A gentle breeze rustles the leaves of nearby trees and a wave of sakura petals descend from their branches like rain.

“Nanamin,” your voice grows softer. “Are you leaving forever?”

He swallows, then nods wordlessly.

“Will I ever see you again?”

“I wanna be with you forever, Ken-chan!” you wailed.

“Forever’s a long time,” Nanami replied.  

He handed you his yellow cotton handkerchief, face wrinkling when you honked your nose into it. Gross. His neck hurt from sticking it out of the car window. He can hear his father tapping a finger onto the wheel impatiently, his mother silent as she stares out the front.

“B-but!” 

Your bottom lip quivered and Nanami let out a sigh.

“Fine, fine. I’ll be with you, okay?”

“Really, Ken-chan? Forever?”

“Yeah, really. Forever.”

You grinned in the waning sunlight as your mother tugged you away.

“I’ll never forget you, Ken-chan!” you shouted.

The car window rolled up and he watched you disappear into the horizon, turning as tiny as an ant.  

Nanami swallows his heart into the pit of his stomach.

“Probably.” 

“That’s not a definitive answer, Nanamin.”

“What do you want me to tell you, then?”

There’s a slight tremble in his voice. The plastic wrapping of the flowers crinkle under his grip and waves of emotions rush over him; the biggest out of all of them regret. He struggles to breathe underwater, keeping his eyes squeezed shut and nose plugged up. A sakura petal lands on his shoulder. He doesn’t bother brushing it away. 

“Say,” you whisper, taking a step to close the distance between Nanami and you.

He gulps as you place a hand upon his chest. He can feel the heat of your skin through his uniform and Nanami’s too dumbstruck to respond.

“Why don’t you give me your second button?”

Your eyes meet his. A smile toys with the corners of his lips and suddenly Nanami blurts out a nervous “Okay.”. His mind flickers back to Haibara momentarily; how you had appeared to like him so much back then. But he chooses to shove those memories into the back of his mind once more as you produce a small pair of scissors and snip the thread.

“You always take care of me, Nanamin. It was natural of me to fall in love with you,” you breathe, cradling the swirl patterned button in your hands.

A gust of cool air slips into his unbuttoned shirt and Nanami’s breath hitches.  

“Do you like me too?”

Your question is innocent. With the way you peer up at him, there’s no way that Nanami can lie. Your glittery eyes were the same ones he had fallen in love with all those years ago. He wonders if he still loves you in the same way as he did then; as faultless and innocent it had been. His heart sits on the tip of his tongue.

“Yeah, I do.”

Your eyes crinkle at the edges as you smile, an evident sigh of relief escaping your lips. You slip the button into your pocket before tugging Nanami even closer towards you. He yelps as your chest presses against his and the tips of his ears turn red.

You plant your lips by the side of his.

[ellewords]

fated

↳   (adj.) decreed, controlled, or marked by fate; be destined to happen. 

summary : at the stroke of midnight, on the very second you turned eighteen a name will appear on your left wrist. a name to indicate the person you were meant to be with for the rest of your life, the name of your soulmate. you have been dating atsumu since you were sixteen, and on your eighteenth birthday, the two of you patiently wait to see if his name appears. word count :  4.01k

pairing : miya atsumu x f!reader

fic notes : soulmate au, established relationship, angst, fluff, atsumu is a little whipped but maybe we love him for that

from elle ! for the purposes of this imagine, your birthday is before atsumu’s ;-; anyways my brain has been filled with soulmate aus lately so here we are ;-;  

The weeks that lead up to your eighteenth birthday had you on edge, then again, how could it not? You were meant to find out the name of your soulmate, the person fate dictates would be the person you’re meant to spend the rest of your life with. The so-called perfect match, a set-up by the stars, its success nothing but inevitable. But despite all the hype everyone in your immediate social circle had given soulmates, you didn’t give it too much of a thought. 

It’s not that you weren’t much of a romantic, you simply just didn’t care. Everyone in your family ended up with their soulmate; your parents were soulmates, your grandparents were too. It was understandable why your indifference towards soulmates had them feeling somewhat disappointed. But you couldn’t find it in you to be disappointed in yourself, why should the stars have a say in who you can and can’t be with? Shouldn’t you be able to decide for yourself? 

“The stars know best,” your family would always say, “the sooner you come to terms with that, the happier you’ll be.” 

You always brushed their words off with a shrug of your shoulders or a roll of your eyes, not exactly that convinced of the stars’ power on your life. This was your life after all, you made your own decisions, went about things in your own way. No mystical higher being could ever take that away from you. 

Of course, it wasn’t until you met and eventually began dating Miya Atsumu that your opinion on soulmates changed ever so slightly. 

Your family had moved into the Hyōgo prefecture in your first year of high school, moving next door to the Miya household. You met Osamu first, when he and his mother welcomed your family to the neighbourhood. You were delighted to learn that you were in the same year as he was, at least you knew one person in this brand new environment. Osamu was even kind enough to ask if you wanted to go with him to school the following morning, an offer you gratefully accepted. Unfortunately, he failed to mention that he had a twin brother, so imagine your surprise when you found Osamu next to a kid who looked just like him waiting for you by your front gate.

“Wait, there’s two of you?” You asked, almost unable to believe your eyes as your gaze darted back and forth between the two brothers.

Atsumu took this as an opportunity to introduce himself as “the better version of Osamu”, earning himself an elbow in the stomach from his brother and a giggle from you. Though he was doubled over in pain after taking that hit from Osamu, he couldn’t help but feel his heart skip the smallest of beats at the sound of your laughter. Atsumu decided then and there that he’d do anything to hear it again. 

Growing up, you didn’t really care much about soulmates. But nowadays, you hoped with every fibre of your being that it would be his name that appeared on the inside of your wrist. 

“What’s goin’ on in that pretty little head of yours?” You heard a voice ask from behind you, startling you and making you lose your train of thought. It didn’t take a genius to know exactly who it was, there was only ever really one person who had the audacity to show up to your room uninvited and sneak up on you. 

“Tsumu, don’t scare me like that again!” You exclaimed, holding one hand over your heart and using the other to lightly hit chest. You didn’t even hear the front door open, or your mother inviting him in. 

“Ya know I can’t promise you that, babe. Besides, ya looked so cute starin’ at that wall.” Atsumu grinned, laying his head on your lap and moving your hand to his hair, hinting that you run your fingers through it. “Was just here to ask if there was anything you wanted for your birthday. It’s comin’ up soon isn’t it?”

“Don’t remind me…” You sighed, unable to look at him, the various little knickknacks placed around your room suddenly becoming more interesting. You knew there was no point in hiding your nervousness from Atsumu, in fact, there was no need to.  He could always tell. Still, you fought to keep your voice calm, to offer him a weak smile despite your gaze being elsewhere.

Atsumu noticed how your eyes scanned the entirety of your room before they landed on the framed picture of you and him that sat atop your bedside table. He took your left hand, pressing his lips on the inside of your wrist, “We’ll be okay, yeah?”

He sounded so confident, so assured, that you couldn’t help but agree with him. 

There was no other reason for Atsumu’s confidence other than his genuine belief that you were his soulmate. There was no doubt about it, because in his mind, who else could it be? No one but you. 

You were the only one who made his heart flutter with a single look, immediately catching his eye as you walked towards him in the halls — the largest grin on your face as you called out his name. It always sounded nice when you said it, rolling of your tongue more smoothly than anyone else’s. He loved it just as much as he loved the sound of your laughter, preferring it over any form of music. More often than not he’d find himself staring at you just a little too long, admiring the curve of your lips, and the way your eyes lit up as you talked about something you were passionate about. He had fallen much deeper than he had originally intended, and he was unsure if he even remembered a time before you, especially on your walks back home, you basking in the glow of the setting afternoon sun, breeze blowing through your hair as you latched onto his arm — the warmth of your fingertips seeping through his volleyball jacket. 

Atsumu never thought he could feel so much for one person. Happiness, frustration, excitement, anger, love, nervousness, friendship, heartache, and everything in between. All of these things he felt for and because of you, overwhelming him in the best, most cruel way possible. It frightened Atsumu, the amount of power you unknowingly had over him. 

“You know your girlfriend’s got you wrapped around her finger, right?” Suna once teased, “She could ask you to burn down a building and you’d be on your way to buy lighter fluid before any of us could even blink.”

Atsumu didn’t try to protest, or even make witty retort back, he knew it was true. All he could do was shrug his shoulders and continue eating his lunch, blushing at the thought of you being the one who put together the cute little bento he held in his hands. 

The red flush on his cheeks doesn’t go unnoticed by Suna. He tilts his head toward Atsumu with a raised eyebrow, silently asking Osamu, ‘are you seeing this right now?’

“As long as Tsumu here doesn’t somehow frame me when he eventually burns the world down for her, I’m lettin’ it slide.”

The day of your birthday rolled around much sooner than you would’ve liked. 

Sun peeked through your curtains on the day before, waking you up before your alarm could even start ringing. Something in you felt a little sick, stomach turning at the idea that when midnight comes, everything would be different. Your gaze once again falls on the framed picture of you and Atsumu. Osamu had been the one to take the photo, you remember showering him in thank yous and compliments when he first presented it to you. Neither you nor Atsumu looked at the camera, only at each other — like the other person was the only thing possibly worth looking at. There were giant smiles on your faces, ones you can’t replicate around anyone else. You wore his volleyball jacket, the necklace you gave him for his birthday hung around his neck. He had an arm around your shoulders, you had a hand gently resting on his chest. The corners of your lips twitched up ever so slightly, the furrow in your brow disappearing at the sight. You were able to breathe a little easier, reminding yourself of Atsumu’s confidence in your relationship. As long as you could get past midnight, with his name written on your wrist, everything was going to be fine. 

Atsumu showed up at your front door at around nine in the evening, cake in hand and a smirk on his face, “For you.”

You took the cake from him, letting the inviting aroma of chocolate fill your senses, “Did you make this?”

“How could ya even ask me that, babe?” He asked, gasping dramatically as he pretended to take offense, “Of course Osamu made it, don’t ya know me at all? I can barely fry an egg.”

You shook your head, finally gesturing for him to come inside your family home, “Right, forgive me for ever thinking such a thing.”

To be fair, he did try to help Osamu bake that cake for you. It wasn’t until Osamu had gotten tired of him making a mess and spending half the time dipping his finger in the batter that he was eventually kicked out of the kitchen. 

You could tell Atsumu tried his hardest to keep your mind at bay, telling you stories from childhood or ranting about whatever happened during volleyball practice. For the most part, he was successful, finding yourself laughing at his stories as he told them with wide eyes and exaggerated gestures — his limbs flying about wildly when he wants to make a point. You’d catch yourself sometimes, unable to register the words that left his lips. Under the dim light of your bedroom, in a black shirt and gray sweatpants, rambling about anything that came to his mind, your heart fluttered at the sight of Atsumu. Every now and then, you experience little moments that remind you why you loved him so much, why you had fallen for him in the first place. This was one of those moments.

Ten minutes until midnight.

Your gaze lands on the clock on your wall, just a few minutes to go until fate decides your match. Atsumu noticed the time just as soon as you did, reaching out to hold your hand, giving it a gentle squeeze of reassurance. All you could give him was a weak smile back, taking a shaky breath as you tried to calm yourself down. 

Ten seconds.

A burning sensation starts to prick at your skin and you knew it was time; your parents warned you about the few seconds of pain you had to endure for the lifetime of happiness you were to receive in return. The seconds passed by much too slowly for your liking, but the pain felt somewhat bearable — like a heating pad gently being pressed down to your skin. 

Seven seconds.

You saw how Atsumu tried to hide his worry, he spent the few minutes before midnight talking you through the nervousness you felt. His words stopped seven seconds before midnight, his mouth pressed into a thin line, like it was just settling in that this was actually happening. This would be the moment that defined the rest of your relationship. 

“I love you, that’s not going to change.”

Could you really assure him that? You were about to find out the name of your soulmate, how sure were you of that statement? The smallest seed of doubt planted itself in his mind, and little did he know that it would only take a few seconds more for it to fully grow. Still, despite his own uncertainties, he found himself replying without a second thought. 

“I love you.”

And he did, more than you could ever know. 

Four seconds.

You bit back a yelp of pain, knowing that it would only upset Atsumu and possibly upset the neighbors. Your family was downstairs, eagerly awaiting for the name of your soulmate; they were arguably much more excited than you were. You had to fight them off from being in the room with you when it happened, only wanting one person to act as your support, Atsumu. The pain was much more intense now, spreading throughout the entirety of your body. You had to let go of Atsumu’s hand, clenching your fists until your knuckles turned white. 

One second. An exhale escaped your lips as the burning sensation finally ceases. You look down at the inside of your wrist, turning away from Atsumu as you mentally prepared yourself for the worst. 

Atsumu knew in the way your bottom lip quivered, how you failed to meet his eyes, seeing the tears that slowly streamed down your cheeks, his name wasn’t the one that appeared on your wrist.

Osamu was woken up by the sound of their bedroom door slamming shut, even in complete darkness he could tell his brother was immensely distressed. He saw the outlines of his figure, punching at the air, keeping himself from screaming out in pain. Osamu didn’t have to ask what happened, he knew your eighteenth birthday was today — he did spend most of the afternoon baking you a cake. Despite all their disagreements, he couldn’t help but feel his heart clench, feeling for his brother. 

“You wanna talk about it?”

Atsumu let out a huff, fighting the urge to sweep off every item on his and Osamu’s desks, mumbling a quiet, “no.”

Anyone could tell something had changed, they didn’t have to be close to you or Atsumu to know that something was up. No one saw the two of you spending the early mornings going to school together, or in the cafeteria during lunch period exchanging snacks you had bought each other. The halls were unnaturally silent, especially without Atsumu’s voice calling out your name whenever you crossed paths. 

Atsumu avoided you, which wasn’t too difficult considering you were placed in different classes. He went to school slightly later than he usually would, letting Osamu be the one to accompany you there. He ate his lunch alone in the gym, knowing your friends — or maybe even Suna and Osamu —  would be the ones to join you. He made excuses, took the longer route home, stayed in the gym hours after practices. Anything that meant not having to see your face. 

Osamu found his brother angrily serving volleyballs in the gym, about a week after your birthday, each hit more powerful than the last. Suna let out a low whistle at the sight, “Think you can handle this one?”

He sighed, unable to take his eyes off his brother, anger and frustration building in the pit of his stomach. “I’m gonna have to handle it, don’t really have a choice on this one.”

Suna nodded, wishing Osamu luck before leaving him to handle Atsumu on his own. Osamu sighed, walking towards his brother. He wasn’t about to let this go on any longer, not when he spent so much time with the of you. 

Osamu was the one who caught sight of you in the morning as he went with you to school, the bags under your eyes getting darker and heavier by the day — clearly indicating that you were getting little to no sleep. Sometimes, he’d find you in the halls, exiting the bathroom with your eyes red and puffy. It took everything in him not to slap his brother into his next life when he did. 

He was also the one who had to deal with Atsumu at home and at practices. To an outsider, he still seems to be performing well, but everyone on the team knew he was out of his game. The littlest things set him off, holding himself and his spikers to an even higher standard than before — correcting every little gesture and getting upset at failed plays that he would’ve let slide before. But he was much worse at home, shutting himself off completely, only replying with curt nods or one word answers.

“What the fuck do ya think you’re doin’, Atsumu?” Osamu asked, pulling the collar of Atsumu’s shirt to stop him from taking another step to serve. 

“I’m practicing.” He said, before looking back at Osamu with his jaw clenched. “What does it look like I’m doing?”

Osamu let go of him, shaking his head, “It looks like you’re avoidin’ Yn.”

Atsumu froze. He knew he wasn’t being discreet, but this was the first time someone had actually called him out on it. 

“She’s heartbroken, Tsumu. Just as much as you.” 

Osamu noticed how Atsumu’s breath hitched at his words, the pain he had inflicted on you somewhat settling in. “Why are you doing this?”

“I’m not her soulmate.” He mumbled, so softly that his brother couldn’t quite catch it. 

“What?”

Osamu had rarely seen his brother act like this, so vulnerable and unsure of himself. Atsumu was always confident in himself and his abilities, and he had reason to be too. But this was very unlike him, shoulders slumped, lips formed into a pout, eyes hazy as tears threatened to spill.

“I’m not her soulmate, okay?” Atsumu repeated, louder and very clearly frustrated, “I’ve always known she was too good for me, that I don’t deserve her. This is just proof of that. Who am I to deny her the person she’s meant to be with? The one who can make her happier than I ever could.”

“Don’t you love her?”

“I love her. But tell me, Samu, how am I supposed to go against the universe, hm?” Atsumu moved closer to Osamu, eyes alight with anger and distress, though he wasn’t really mad at him. It was almost like he was challenging him, thinking his brother couldn’t possibly have an answer to any of his questions. “Isn’t it better I just sit down and let the universe tell me what to do?”

“Since when have you ever followed what anyone tells you to do?” Osamu scoffed, not backing down from his brother’s somewhat threatening glare, knowing exactly what to say. “Last time I checked, ya had a lot more fun goin’ against what’s expected of you.”

Atsumu stepped back, glare softening until his gaze landed on his feet, anger dissipating ever so slightly. Osamu walked over to him and hits the back of his head, “Go to her, dumbass.”

You thought you’d feel different, but after the brief burning sensation that spread across your skin, it was as if nothing had changed. Besides the unfamiliar name that now marked your left wrist, you were still truly and deeply in love with Miya Atsumu.

Part of you thought your feelings would change, that you would suddenly somehow lose interest in the man you spent a couple of years of your life with in favor of the person you were supposedly destined to be with. But that couldn’t be farther from the truth, your heart still beats for the stubborn setter that lived next door.

Your heart shattered when he left that day, gently closing the door of your room without a single word. He wouldn’t even let you explain, get close enough to him to say that your feelings for him hadn’t changed. You could tell Atsumu was avoiding you, doing a complete 180 turn whenever he spotted you in the hallways. And you wished, for even just one second, that he gave you a chance to tell him that you weren’t giving up on your relationship that easy. You were very much willing to fight for it, that much was clear to you on the nights you spent crying, missing his embrace. You wanted Astumu by your side, no matter what the universe had to say, hoping he felt that way too.

And he did. 

But Atsumu hesitated knocking on your front door, hand brought up just a few inches from the wooden material. Would you even take him back, when he left without so much as a goodbye, ignoring you for days on end? The universe was right, wasn’t it? He wanted to be by your side, but does he even deserve that spot in the first place?

His hand fell back down on his side, taking a step back in the process. A sigh escapes him, maybe this was a mistake. Atsumu was about to turn back and head home when the door opened to reveal your mother. A soft smile graced her features, her voice calm and collected, “It’s okay, Atsumu. Please talk to her, she’s in her room.”

He entered your family home and walked to your room, muscle memory kicking in as he took the steps he needed to get there. Atsumu opened the door ever so slightly, only to find you staring at your wrist, rubbing at the spot where the name of your soulmate should be. A tug on his heartstrings caused his chest to clench at the sight, a reminder that he was not the one you were meant to be with. But he could also clearly see the fresh tear marks that stained your cheeks, guilt pooled at the pit of his stomach knowing that he was the one who caused it. 

“What’s goin’ on in that pretty little head of yours?” Atsumu asked, but it wasn’t in the way he usually did — teasing, with the intent to genuinely shock or surprise you. This time his voice was reserved, filled with uncertainty — something you were sure you had never heard from him before.

Your eyes went wide at the sound of his voice, a fresh batch of tears threatening to prick your eyes from the realization of how much you missed it. “Tsumu? What are you doing here?”

“I realize I didn’t give you yer gift yet.” He gave you a weak smile, sitting on the edge of your bed.

You moved closer to him, wiping away the tears that streaked your cheeks with the sleeve of your sweater. Atsumu reaches into the pocket of his pants to pull out a silver bracelet, one with two little charms: a small heart and the letter a. You offer him your left hand, but he shook his head slightly, putting it on your right hand instead — the one that didn’t bear a name that wasn’t his. 

“I love you.” Atsumu sighed, looking down at his lap, “I’m sorry for leavin’, I’m just scared. I’m gonna lose ya.”

“I understand that, I accept your apology.” You cupped his cheek, forcing him to look directly at you, wanting him to see the sincerity in your eyes as the words left you, “I love you too, Tsumu.”

Atsumu presses his lips onto yours, your eyes fluttering shut as he does so. Every word he failed to speak, every emotion he wanted to express, every word of apology he wanted to make known, he tried to express in that one kiss. And you felt it, everything he wanted to tell you. Your lips moved soft and slow against his, like you had all the time in the world. 

“What are we going to do now?” You asked once you pulled away, mouth parted as you tried to catch your breath. 

“I don’t know.” Astumu replied, honest and afraid. But there was a determined look in his eyes, very much unlike the kind that he wore during a game. This was a different kind of determination, a kind that both assured and scared you. “All I know now is I wanna stay by your side, for as long as the universe will allow us. For as long as we have left.”

It was almost enough to make you feel at ease, to calm the waves of anxiety that slowly formed in the pit of your stomach. Still, you offered him a smile, but it falters ever so slightly when you realize one thing: he was yet to find out his soulmate’s name. 

—   i could’ve ended it on a somewhat fluffy note but my brain went ahead and said no ❤️ also ngl part of me wants to turn this into a series maybe even a smau including the actual soulmate because i’m a sucker for angst, love triangles, and fate/destiny vs free will/human agency.

update : I did turn it into a series ;-; read it here.

[rebeccccccaaa]

ᴡʜᴀᴛ ᴀ ɴᴇʀᴅ ⓟⓐⓡⓣ ②

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ғʀᴀᴛʙᴏʏ!ʙᴜᴄᴋʏ ʙᴀʀɴᴇs x sʜʏ-ɪsʜ!ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ ᴀᴜ (ɪɴᴇxᴘᴇʀɪᴇɴᴄᴇᴅ ɪ ɢᴜᴇss)

sᴜᴍᴍᴀʀʏ: (two part series!) You’re starting to struggle in class and decide to ask your professor for some tutoring or extra classes to boost your  grade. He ends up assigning the last person you’d expect to tutor you. (is it really a surprise though?)

ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢs: cw: talking about a car accident and infertility

smut 18+  (praise kink, dirty talk, oral fem receiving, hair pulling, marking, choking, slight spanking if you squint, slight bondage), major aftercare, fluff? This is pretty filthy lmao. 

ᴡᴏʀᴅ ᴄᴏᴜɴᴛ: 𝟺.𝟹 ᴋ (ɪ ᴀᴍ sᴏᴏᴏᴏᴏ sᴏʀʀʏ ᴛʜɪs ɪs sᴏᴏᴏ ʟᴏɴɢ!)

ᴀ/ɴ: Thank you so much for all the love in the last part! I was truly expecting maybe about 20 likes but so far its gotten over 100! Thank you for being so nice to me on my first ever post and hope you enjoy part 2!

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For the next two or so weeks you avoid Bucky like the bubonic plague. You didn’t exactly hate the fact that he kissed, but he was your tutor. Isn’t that inappropriate? Let alone him being a part of a frat house. It wouldn’t be a good mix.

One good thing though is that your overall grade in class has gone up since your tutor sessions with Bucky so at least it wasn’t for nothing. He’s tried to talk to you in class a couple times when you didn't go to him but ended up giving up when you began showing up right when class started or going out of your way to even go near him. 

Again, you didn’t hate him; hell you weren’t mad anymore, but you still avoided at all costs. It’s totally not because you're scared you’ll actually fall for him. How could someone like Bucky even look your way? Maybe he just wanted to get into your pants like all the boys in the house.

You didn’t tell Natasha that Bucky kissed but she could definitely tell that something was up. You were usually at Bucky’s frat house on weekdays but you’ve been canceling sessions every night since the incident. 

One night you were studying alone in your apartment and Natasha was pacing around on her phone. She was dressed to go to a frat party tonight but it seems maybe her ride isn’t available. You wonder why she can’t herself when she has a car.

“Hey Y/n,” Nat crept up to you.

“Yes,” you drew out.

“Would maybe, possibly, perhaps, might be able to be my DD?” she asked.

“Your what?”

“My designated driver. Wanda has a family emergency; her and her brother flew out like an hour ago and I haven’t been able to find anyone to pick me up.”

“I can drop you off and pick you up,” you offered. You’d rather stay up late in case she wants to come home than stay at the party all night, especially if she finds another bed to stay in till morning. 

“I mean you could do that but would it be more fun to actually party for once. Come on babe you’re too uptight, you need to have fun especially with how hard you’re working in school right now.”

“Nat, you know that’s not my scene.”

“Just stay with me. Or Bucky I’m sure he wouldn’t mind hanging with you tonight,” she suggestively, bringing confusion to your face.

“Huh?”

“Oh nothing Just come with me please? If it gets too much text me and I’ll let you know if I need a ride back home.”

“Actually?” you asked.

“Pinky promise.”

“Ok give me like 5 mins.”

You ran to your  room and picked out an outfit you felt sexy but comfortable in; I mean if you were going to inevitably run into Bucky at this party might as well look presentable right? When you came out ready, Nat whistled, hyping you up and felt your face heat up a bit. 

“Stop, let’s just go,” you averted.

You arrived at the house music booming from down the street. People outside drinking from red solo cups, cars already picking up drunks and dropping people off to get said drunk. You hastily parked the car and Nat grabbed your hand and pulled you close as you guys walked to the party. You weren’t going to lie, you were really nervous.

You heard stories about these parties but you were trying to convince yourself that they may be exaggerated somewhat but still didn’t do much for your nerves. When you walked you eyes almost immediately locked with Bucky’s. To say he was shocked to see you at a frat party was for sure an understatement.

Bucky began to move through the crowd to meet up with you but when he got to the entrance it was like you disappeared. Disappointed, he returned to the mini bar where the drinks were all held, where Steve served the drinks. Asked for a beer.

“How’s it going, man?” Steve asked.

“She’s here.”

“Nat? I really think there's something between us. I’m thinking about asking her on a proper date you know?”

“Really? That’s awesome, but I’m talking ‘bout Y/n,” Bucky clarified.

“What? I thought she hated parties.” 

“I did too.”

As if on queue, you tapped Bucky on the shoulder.

“Hi.”

“Hey, what on earth are you doing here?”

“Nat needed a designated driver and Wanda and her brother are out of town.”

“Yeah Pietro lives here in the house, Steve drove him and Wanda to the airport a couple hours ago.”

You nodded your head and things got awkward again, but then again what’s new with that.

“Do you want anything to drink?”

“I can’t drink.”

“Oh right. Do we have soda?”

“We coke for the rum but you can take a can.”

“Thanks Steve,” you took a can of coke from him. 

You and Bucky and Steve all held wholesome conversation for a little  bit then Nat came and whisked him away. Bucky was put on bar duty from then on and you decided to keep him company until Nat was ready to go home. But so far from the way Steve and her were dancing together you didn’t think Nat was gonna wanna go home.

You asked Bucky how long Steve and Nat have had their little thing and apparently it’s been going on for awhile. You had sneaking suspicion that they were together in some way but since Nat never brought it up you didn’t want to bug her. It was pretty easy to figure out though considering she didn’t come home some nights.

They’re good together though and you hope they make it official soon.

Talking to Bucky, you felt a hand brush against but when you looked no one was there. You figured it was just getting crowded. After a couple of hours you decided to text Nat to see where she was. When she didn’t respond, you took it upon yourself to call her.

“Nat where did you go?”

“I'm in the car,” she slurred.

“What! You can’t be driving! How did you even get the keys?” you yelled.

“I snatched them from you when you and Bucky were flirting with each other. Steve couldn’t  find his keys so I took yours,” she shouted into the phone.

“When did you- whatever, is he sober?” you asked.

“Yeah and I am not even that dru-,” she hiccuped. 

“Nat…” you warned. 

“Steve is my boyfriend and we’re clean. I’ll be safe; it’s not like I can have kids anyway.”

“Nat.” When you moved in together at the beginning of the year, you noticed one time her grabbing her lower stomach in discomfort and offered her any products for her period. She told you she doesn’t get one and being the dumbass you are you asked why. She told you when she was a teenager she got into a car accident that caused extreme internal bleeding causing Nat to become infertle. 

“I’m sorry I didn’t mean it like that,” you apologized.

“It’s ok babe. If anything you be safe.”

“She can’t see you, babygirl,” you heard Steve say and laughed out loud.

“Oh! I’m winking!” she shouted.

“Oh my god. Whatever,” you rolled your eyes.

“Anyways buh-bye, girly!” she hung up the phone.

“What happened?” Bucky came up behind you. You looked over at the bar and saw Bruce bar-keeping.

“Nat took the fucking car with Steve.”

“Why didn’t he use my car?”

“She said he couldn’t find the keys and I guess it was easier to just steal from me when I wasn’t looking.”

“Wow, ok. Stealth much?”

“Right? She’s like a Russian spy,” you laughed.

“Well, you probably need a ride then,” Bucky brought up.

“I don’t know if I wanna go home knowing Steve is probably gonna be railing her into the next dimension.”

“Yeah, you can spend the night here. I can sleep on the floor.”

“Really?” 

“Yeah it’s not a problem. We probably have an air mattress hiding somewhere.”

“Thanks Buck. well since I’m not going anywhere I guess I could have a drink now.”

“What’ll it be?”

You drank a couple beers feeling the alcohol beginning to flow effortlessly through your veins. The music was still booming through the house and you found yourself getting lost to the rhythm. You made your way to where everyone was also dancing and let the music guide your body sensually. 

You didn’t notice it yet but Bucky was staring completely in love with the way you were moving. He’d never seen you in this kind of environment and definitely not in the clothing you were wearing. You looked truly sexy even more so dancing the way you were dancing; like you had control over everything in the world.

You soon felt a pair of hands circle around to your waist instantly knowing who they belong to. Bucky moved his hips snug against your backside perfectly fitting with you. You let your head lean back feeling Bucky breathe against your neck.  

“You driving me crazy, doll,” Bucky whispered against your ear.

You shivered at his words. 

“Please, let me show you how fucking stunning you are,” he moved his hands towards the front of your hips.

“What?” you turned around. You hadn’t expected Bucky to want to do anything with you.

“I can make you feel so good. You deserve it.”

“Bucky-”

“Do you want me to make you feel good?”

“I do,” you whined as he rubbed his hands against your lower back, pulling you so close.

He kissed you too softly, barely touching your lips, as he grabbed your hands and led to his room upstairs.  

When you reached his room, the back of his knees hit the bed and he sat while your knees went to either side of his thighs. God his thighs. His hands went up your shirt grazing your bare skin with his fingertips as you continued to makeout sloppily. 

“Can I take this off?” he asked, tugging your shirt.

“Please, yes please.”

Your arms went over your head and Bucky slowly kissed the exposed skin as your shirt inched higher and higher up until he tossed it to the side. The straps of your bra left off shoulders and Bucky continued to kiss any exposed skin on your body. Your hands ran through his hair and you tugged his strands earning a moan in return.

You tugged at his shirt as well and he complied quickly getting rid of his shirt and throwing it to the side. Bucky hands ran over your bottom and you jumped off him nearly ripping your bottoms off your body. You heard bucky chuckled as he too took the opportunity to take his pants off leaving him in boxers and nothing else.

“I want to taste you baby girl,” Bucky bit at your ear.

Your body tensed a bit because although you were not a virgin, you were not that experienced, especially compared to Bucky. 

“Is that ok? I’m sorry, we don’t have to do anything. I don’t want you to regret anything, princess. We can stop.”

“No! I don’t want to stop. No one’s just ever wanted to do that, you know,” you whispered feeling a bit overwhelmed.

“Oh baby, what kinda shit boys were you with? Let me show how good a woman is supposed to feel, got it?”

You swallowed hard, but nodded of course. 

Bucky picked you up and gently laid you down onto the bed. His hands rubbed your thighs softly and he kissed your stomach ever so softly. He was trying his very hardest to make sure you were comfortable and relaxed as much as possible. Bucky traced the lining of your underwear and looked to you once again to make sure everything was ok by you. You nodded but that wasn’t enough for Bucky.

“Words, baby. I wanna hear you say it,” he whispered, lips against your inner thigh. 

“Bucky,” you whined.

“Come on, baby. Use your words like a big girl,” he snickered.

“Please, touch me, Bucky. I want you to use your mouth on me like you promised.”

“There ya go,” he said pulling your underwear down your legs.

He slowly opened your legs and kissed your inner thigh leaving a dark purple mark for him to see and him only. When he was satisfied with the marks he left on your inner thighs he licked a slow and wet line against your pussy. Your hips instantly bucked into his face and your hands flew to his hair.

You tugged at his hair again and released a grunt from Bucky, the vibrations from his mouth pleasuring you even more. Bucky brought his fingers to your hole and he continued circling his tongue around your clit making you moan and arch your back. 

He entered a finger into you and then another. You were already beginning to feel full from just his fingers alone, you couldn’t wait until he was able to fuck you balls deep. Your orgasm was approaching quicker than you anticipated, your toes curled and your back arched off the bed. Your heels dug into Bucky’s back but he simply continued to eat you out until you finally peaked.

“Bucky!” you shouted his name in pleasure.

“That’s it baby girl. You're my good girl, right?”

“Yes, I’m your good girl. Oh god, I’m cumming,” you moaned.

Bucky helped you ride out your first orgasm of the night completely enamored by your beauty. When you finally came down from you high you reached for Bucky pulling him into a heated kiss. You could taste yourself on his tongue and moaned into his mouth. You pulled him closer and sat up moving him to sit his back against his headboard.

“I don’t know what I want to do more, return the favor or ride you until my legs shake.”

“You can return the favor another time. Let me see you ride my dick, doll,” Bucky growled. Another time?

You crawled onto Bucky’s lap after he discarded his boxers letting his dick spring up, the tip red from lack of attention. It shocked you if you were being honest, it was so… big. 

“Is that gonna fit?” you asked genuinely.

“Yeah, it will; but if it hurts too much you tell me to stop ok?” you nodded.

Bucky reached behind your back and unclasped your bra only to toss it to wherever the rest of your clothes were. His hands caressing your breasts; thumbs rubbing over your sensitive nipples, sending chills throughout your body. He kissed along your collarbone to your neck to your jaw before whispering in your ear.

“I have to grab a condom from the bathroom, baby girl. Sorry,” he began to move you.

“Why are you sorry?” you stopped him.

“I don’t wanna ruin the mood but safety is important before anything else.”

You weren’t gonna lie that actually kinda shocked you; and turned you on even more. You had completely forgotten about having a condom. You were on the pill but that doesn't mean you shouldn’t still use a condom. Bucky was back in no time and you took the condom from him wanting to put it on for him. Bucky moaned as you wrapped his dick and soon enough you were ready to go, arousal practically dripping down your inner thighs.

Bucky’s hand lid up to the back of your neck as you slid down his cock; both moaning at the feeling. You took a second to move but when you did things practically fell into pace. You quickly found a good rhythm for the both of you and soon enough you felt yourselves growing near climax.

Bucky’s hands gripped at your ass, grunting and moaning at the feeling of your walls gliding in and out of you. He smacked your ass leaving a slight red-ish mark for you to admire later. You pulled him closer, if that was even possible, burying your face in between Bucky’s neck and shoulder. 

“I can feel ya getting close, baby. Fucking squeezing me. Feels so good, princess.”

“I'm gonna come, I’m so close.”

“Don’t come until I say so. Hold it, I know you can. Be my good little girl and fucking hold it.”

You sucked and kissed and licked his neck leaving little marks not nearly as big as the ones he was leaving all over you. Soon enough you felt the coil building in the pit of your stomach snap and you moaned so loud into Bucky’s ear, he almost came from hearing your moans.

“Sorry I literally screamed in your ear.”

“I told you not to come until I say so.”

“Sorry, I couldn’t hold it anymore. You felt too good,” you whispered, barely audible.

“That doesn’t matter. I told you to hold it,” Bucky got off the bed and reached for his pants. You got so scared that he was going to leave; terrified. But instead he took his belt he was wearing and stalked back towards you. Oh how the butterflies in your stomach fluttered right now.

“Arms up baby girl. You don’t get to touch me now.”

You complied, your stomach fluttering immensely at the mere thought of what Bucky was going to  do with you now. When he finished looping the belt around the headboard of the bed his hands ran along your entire body kissing here and there until back up to you. 

“Too tight?” you shook your head.

“Perfect. Winter; say the word and I stop,” he kissed passionately, sliding back in you, pussy sensitive from orgasming twice tonight. 

Bucky didn’t take as much time as you did before starting to slam into you over and over again. Your eyes rolled to the back of your head, toes curling in themselves, tears brimming your eyes. Bucky fingers dug into your waist surely leaving more marks for you in the morning. 

His hand came up to wrap around your neck and squeezed ever so slightly.

“Feel good? My little fucking slut, whining and wiggling under me,” Bucky said, more to himself than anything.

“Fuck-” you moaned. You wrists rubbing against the belt, trying to pull away so you could touch Bucky.

“What is it? You wanna touch me,” Bucky’s hand squeezed a bit more and you moaned even louder, legs wrapping around his waist pulling him closer that way.

“Oh good please Bucky, let me touch you!”

“Uh-uh, bad girls don’t get what they want. If you want to touch me you have to beg me like the good little whore you are,” Bucky growled.

“Fuck Bucky please, I’ll do anything for you just me let me touch you. Please, please, please!”

“Tell me your mine.”

“I’m yours, Buck. All fucking yours. No one else’s!”

“No one is ever gonna fuck as good as I do. Your mine.”

“Yes! I’m yours, oh god,” you moaned.

Bucky was extremely close to cumming and so were you so he undid the belt with one hand skillfully and your arms wrapped around his body pulling as close to you as humanly possible. Your hands ran through his hair and pulled hard as you both fell over the edge. Bucky settled between your legs for a minute kissing your breasts, your chest heaving trying to catch your breath. 

Bucky got up and discarded the condoms making sure there were no tears or rips considering how rough he’d been with you. He didn’t intend to be rough at first but his mind was so clouded with you he practically lost control; but you didn’t mind not one bit. 

Bucky came back with bottled water from a small refrigerator he kept in the corner of his room and held you back and head as you brought the water to your lips. After satisfying your dry and hoarse throat, Bucky picked you up and set down on his bathroom counter, the cold of the marble counter in extreme contrast to your hot skin. 

He cleaned you up and inspected your wrists making sure you weren’t hurt; although they were quite red and would probably hurt in the morning. Lastly, he grabbed a wipe and cleaned the remaining mess of makeup you had put on the night before speaking up again.

“Was I too rough? I didn’t mean to be,” Bucky caressing the sides of your waist. You shocked your head no; the face with a blissfully fucked out expression and a smile making Bucky chuckle. He rubbed your skin with lotion to ease any irritation anything may have caused and kissed the marks he made during sex. He admits that he really likes seeing you marked up by him knowing he’s the only one who gets to see them and make them. Makes him proud that he was able to fuck so good and you loved it too.

He picked you up and took you to bed; kissing you all over one last time before letting you fall asleep in his arms. The last thing you heard before you fell asleep was Bucky whispering about how good were to him, calling you his good little girl; rubbing your back ever so softly putting you to sleep.

+++

You woke the next morning arms and legs tangled with another. You turn your head to find Bucky Barnes’ face tucked into your neck soft breaths tickling your skin. You rubbed his arms and back, nails lightly scratching him causing him to stir a bit.

Bucky pressed soft kisses against your skin and rested his large warm hands on your ass and thighs. You felt the urge to use the restroom and haven’t going last night, you figured you should as soon as possible. Prying your mildly sweaty body from his was obviously unsuccessful with how much stronger he was compared to you. His legs moved further in between your thighs and he began kissing your chest making you giggle in return.

“Bucky, I have to use the restroom,” you grabbed his face.

“Oh, sorry,” he chuckled and released his hold on you, not without whining of course.

You ran into his bathroom and shut the door. When you turned around you gasped realizing how marked up you were. Dark purple spots littered all over your chest and neck. Your wrists were bright red from the belt he used last night; however they didn’t hurt, a bit sore but not painful. Your thighs were also decorated with love bites and hickeys from Bucky last night and you smiled to yourself.

After you used the bathroom you cleaned yourself as well as possible but admittedly needed a shower in the end. You opened the door only to find Bucky, grinning like a little boy. You folded your hands underneath your chin evidently hiding your body with your arms as much as you could. 

Bucky came up to you and placed his hands on your waist kissing the top of your head before turning you around to look at yourself in the bathroom mirror. His body was flush against your and you could feel his dick sitting against your ass and lower back. His face came up and rested on your shoulder then grabbed your hands to wrap them behind his head and yours. 

You played with his hair a bit feeling so confident and loved by the affection Bucky has been giving since you came into his room. His hands ran across your body everywhere they could reach before making eye contact with you in the mirror.

“Look at you, goddamn.”

“What?” you chuckled.

“Do you see what I’m seeing?”

You shook your head, feeling incredibly shy suddenly.

“Look how  fucking beautiful and gorgeous and perfect you are. Geez, I can’t even handle it.” 

You laughed out at how dramatic he was being.

“Goddamn, I could stare at your perfect body all fucking day,” he whispered, it wasn’t in a sensual tone however. It was almost like he was saying to himself, like he actually wanted to do as such.

“Please stay,” he asked you.

“Are you ok?” you sensed he was being incredibly serious, almost about to cry even.

His sad painted with sadness, eyes begging you to stay with him for the day. He wanted something with you.he wanted to be yours and hoped to God that you’d be his in return.

“Stay with me. Please?” you realized you didn’t think he was talking about staying for now, he meant stay with him, as a partner.

“What happened?” you caressed his face in your hands. He lifted you and placed you on the counter Like he did the night before, settling his hips in between your legs.

“They always leave,” he whispered.

“Who? ”

“I didn’t want to just sleep around with girls anymore so I started talking to them and taking them out but every time the night we had sex, they would always leave. I tried talking to them the next day but they always said they didn’t want anything out of it. So I stopped having sex altogether.” 

Your heart ached for him. You didn’t want to do that to him. Of course you thought about it, but that was clearly before you realized Bucky wanted to be with you.

“I won’t leave.”

“We can stay in my room all day. You don’t even have to get out of bed. I can grab a couple game consoles from downstairs and we play on the tv. We order breakfast. I’ll wash your clothes. We have a washing machine in the basement,” Bucky said excitedly, you smiled excited as well for your day with Bucky.

“Can we take a shower first?” you asked.

“Yes of course, let’s take a shower.”

“Let’s?” you wiggled your eyebrows.

“Of course. Maybe we can pop in a couple rounds while we’re at it,” Bucky winked.

“Bucky!”

______________________

Ok, all done. :) Hope you liked it and maybe give it a little like or reblog? You don’t have  to though lol

ᴛᴀɢʟɪsᴛ! 

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Coming soon!

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Semi-Charmed Life

Spencer Reid is a sex addict.

Being incarcerated led Spencer Reid to lose all control in his life and once out he tries to take it back in anyway he can.

But now he’s losing much more than his control, he’s losing the love of his life. And if he can’t admit to his issues he risks losing her for good. But when you drop a bombshell, Spencer realises he has to get better at any cost. Because now it's bigger than the two of you and Spencer could well lose everything if he doesn't admit to his shortcomings and make things right.

Sneak Peak Below the Cut!

June 2019

“So, it looks as though we’ve reached our final session.” Doctor Lowe poised her pen over her notebook looking at the two of you over her glasses. “How are you both feeling?”

You looked at Spencer sitting next to you on the couch. You never imagined you would end up here, on a therapist's couch discussing every intimate detail of you and Spencer’s six year relationship.

You’d been through a lot together in that time but you never pictured you’d end up here.

After a while of silence, Spencer sighed.

“She still hasn’t forgiven me.” he stated matter of factly.

“It’s not that I haven’t forgiven you.” you rolled your eyes. Did he listen to you at all in any of these sessions? “I just don’t see the same man when I look at you anymore Spencer. I don’t know that you’re the same man I fell in love with.”

“Yeah well, the man you fell in love with hadn’t spent three months in a federal penitentiary.”

Doctor Lowe looked between the two of you. After ten sessions, most couples made more progress than the two of you. And the ones who didn’t inevitably ended their relationship soon after.

At first she’d thought you were making progress, you both clearly wanted to fix things and you both made an effort which was all she could ask. But around the fifth session, the halfway mark, things had started to decline.

Conversation flowed less easily between the two of you, feelings stopped being expressed so freely. And since then you’d been on a steady decline.

The room fell silent again. Honestly, you were exhausted going over and over the same conversations.

It was clear you and Spencer’s relationship was beyond saving.

“Maybe we should just cut this short.” You turned to Doctor Lowe. “I don’t see what good one more hour is going to do.”

“You’d be surprised.” Doctor Lowe sat back in her chair and crossed one leg over the other. “Let’s start from the beginning one more time. You met at work.”

“Nearly seven years ago.” You added. She already knew all this, you didn’t know what she was trying to achieve. “We hit it off almost immediately and about eight months into us working together, Spencer asked me on a date.”

“I was so nervous I could barely breathe all night.” He smiled sadly, a little fondly.

“You knocked over my drink three times.” You looked at him with your own sad smile.

“And tripped and fell in the middle of the restaurant on the way to the bathroom.”

Doctor Lowe watched as you both smiled at each other, the first genuine smile she’d seen you share in ten weeks.

“And you went to kiss me goodnight outside my apartment and chickened out at the last moment and almost fell flat on your face on the sidewalk.” You laughed a little at the memory.

“Can you blame me? You were way out of my league. Still are.” He chuckled too.

Doctor Lowe jotted some notes on her paper but neither of you noticed.

“Tell me about your sex life. Prior to prison.”

You both snapped back around to look at her, your smiles diminishing quickly.

“I don’t know what that will achieve.” You spoke defensively, wrapping your arms around your body, closing yourself off.

“Please?” Doctor Lowe encouraged.

Spencer sighed again. He didn’t want to talk about this and he knew you didn’t either. But it was the crux of the issue. It was what had landed you here in the first place.

“We didn’t...you know…” he swallowed awkwardly. “Until we’d been dating for almost six months. I didn’t exactly have a uh...wealth of experience and I was so nervous to mess things up.”

“I didn’t think you liked me.” You sighed. “Every time we got close you feined being tired or something.”

“I was nervous. I didn’t want you to be disappointed.”

“Were you?” Doctor Lowe addressed you.

“No. Not even a little bit.” You sighed as you cast your mind back to that night.

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

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the countdown

Summary: There’s a countdown on your wrist, but what happens when it randomly resets?

Pairing: Daichi x Reader, Hinata x Yachi (side pair)

Warning: Fluff, I guess?

Word Count: 3578

Prompt: Soulmate AU: There is a clock countdown on your wrist to when you meet your soulmate

A/N: Part of the @celestialarchiveshq​ soulmate collab

Y/N

It has always annoyed you, the ticking clock on the underside of your wrist, to the point that you started wearing things to cover it. Over the years, you watched people close to you obsess over the clock, a few of your college friends had dropped out because the constant partying and searching to meet their soulmate seemed to overshadow their grades.

When you were younger the idea of the clock reaching 0:00 excited you, meeting the person who was supposed to know you best, who wouldn’t want that? But as you matured, you started to believe that soulmates don’t always mean forever, they don’t always mean romantic partners, so how could you stay excited over something that could lead to a huge disappointment? Not to mention the depressing thought of what if your soulmate was the romantic type and they weren’t attracted to you. That could happen, right?

What if they preferred long hair but you had just cut it? Or the opposite? What if you had just colored your hair a color that reminded them of an ex? That thought would put you in a tailspin. What if they had exes? Even with the soulmate system, people still found themselves attracted to other people. It made you think of that trashy MTV show where everyone has a perfect match, but there’s always one couple that finds out they aren’t matches, but they refuse to move on. What if your soulmate had someone like that?

You drop your head down onto your desk, the loud bang catches your coworker’s attention as she walks back towards you with two mugs of coffee. Not that she needs it, just like her soulmate, she’s like an endless ball of energy.

“Still upset about last weekend?”

You slowly lift your head, rubbing your forehead knowing you’ll have some embarrassing red mark. Yachi Hitoka has to be one of the sweetest people you’ve ever met, she’s always there for anyone who needs it, helps out whenever she can, and at first you were worried when you met her. You instantly became protective of her, not wanting anyone to take advantage of her kindness, but then you saw her lay down the law when it came to someone missing a deadline for one of the ad campaigns and all you could do was smile proudly.

“I just can’t believe I was this close,” you hold up your hand, using your index finger and thumb to show a small amount, “to meeting them and they just disappeared.”

*                      * Over the weekend, Yachi’s soulmate Hinata Shoyo came in from Osaka to visit and the three of you ended up attending the Bunkyo Plum Blossom Festival. Despite being the third wheel, you couldn’t help but find yourself smiling, watching just how well they not only complimented their similarities but their differences as well.

You glanced down at your wrist, for no particular reason and felt the wind get knocked out from your lungs. Yachi turned to ask if you had heard her before she stopped walking, backing up to be at your side.

“Y/N, what’s wrong?”

You couldn’t find the words, your mind completely blanked as you held up your wrist, showing her just how low the clock had gotten.

00:01:13

00:01:12

00:01:11

“Oh my gosh! Oh my gosh!” Yachi started to jump up and down, causing a small scene on the tightly packed sidewalk. Hinata tilted his head, waiting to be filled in as the two of you walked back towards him.

“Kinda romantic, Y/N. Meeting your soulmate at a festival.” Yachi now had her arm looped with yours, scanning the sidewalks.

“It’s never been this low before.” You said casually, but a knot started to form in your stomach. It felt as if every emotion you could imagine started to wash over you, grabbing ahold of you and making you realize just how real the situation could be.

What if they didn’t like you? What if it was a best friend type of soulmate? What if they simply brushed you off, telling you that they were going to be with someone that wasn’t their soulmate?

What if…?

What if…?

What if…?

Yachi hand slightly squeezed your arm, pulling you from the anxiety that had seemed into your chest, tightening with each breath. “Look at your wrist.”

00:00:20

You started to look around, wondering briefly if your soulmate had been looking around for you, eyes on the clock waiting to bump into you.

00:00:13

Your stomach dropped and you walked over to a wall, leaning against it with fear that you’d just drop if you didn’t have support. Wasn’t this supposed to be an exciting moment in your life? If so, then why did you currently feel like you were about to melt into a puddle of nerves?

00:00:09

“Are you okay?”

You glanced up, seeing two uniformed officers standing around you. Hinata quickly drug Yachi up to the brunette officer, the three seeming to be familiar with each other while raven-haired officer was waiting for your reply.

“Oh, uhm, yes.” You felt dumb, but you held up your wrist, “just a little nervous.”

00:00:07

He let out a small chuckle, “I’m sure things will be fine. My husband ran into a light post when we first met.”

Yachi waved you over, you could hear her mention your name to the other officer but your movement halted when the officers’ radios crackled, a voice requesting back-up. The two officers quickly excused themselves, a few other officers gathering around them before they left, disappearing around the corner.

When you saw a person walking towards you, you glanced down, wondering it this person could be it, but something in you cracked noticing a drastic change in the clock on your wrist.

1368:59:52

*                      * 1200:03:25

50 days.

That’s how long you have to wait to meet your soulmate. But would you ever meet them? You had asked around and no one else had ever heard of someone’s clock restarting, what if you didn’t actually have a soulmate? If it was just some glitch, your clock just resetting to some random time like an electronic clock after the power cuts out and then back on.

Absentmindedly, you sip on the coffee Yachi had brought you, looking out the window wondering that if it wasn’t a glitch, had your soulmate being eagerly looking for you that day too? Were they just as upset that your clocks reset? A smile twitches on the corner of your lips, maybe the whole soulmate thing wasn’t so bad after all.

*          *          *          * Daichi

Sawamura Daichi tilts his head back, squeezing his eyes shut as he lets out a yawn. Daichi is tired and stressed, all he wants is to sink into his bed and sleep. At least until his clock hit zero and his soulmate was standing in front of him.

He pulls himself up in the chair, rubbing his eyes before glancing down at the countdown that’s on his wrist. He isn’t someone that spends large amounts of time staring and obsessing over each tick of the clock, but just a few weeks ago, it seemed to have reset and that alone caught his attention.

960:12:46

40 days.

Part of Daichi wants to say the clock on his wrist doesn’t bother him, that it’s not something he thinks of often, but that’s a lie. His dedication to his job, to protecting not just his loved ones, but those around him often painted him as a strict, by the book type of guy. The guy that wouldn’t bother to think of love or soulmates, being too focused on his job, but Daichi is just another hopeless romantic.

Which is exactly why he often wonders how it will fit in with the whole soulmate aspect. Even with the ups and downs his job brought, the uncertainty that sometimes came with each day, he has never regretted his choice of profession. But while those things didn’t sway his own personal opinion, it leaves him wondering how his soulmate would feel about it. If it would be something that they’d be able to accept and understand why he went that route.

What if they couldn’t accept it? What if they asked him to change careers? What if it was the straw that broke the camel’s back and tore them apart?

What if…?

What if…?

“Keep it up and you get forehead wrinkles.”

He feels a warm hand on his shoulder, turning to see his silver-haired best friend smiling at him. Sugawara sits across from Daichi, the two finally having a free day to meet and catch up.

“Keep worrying about me and your hair will go white.” “Take that back right now Daichi!” Suga rolls his eyes as the former captain starts laughing.

After ordering drinks, the conversation sways to Suga and his new group of students before it inevitably goes to Daichi and his soulmate mark. When he called the former setter, he, like everyone else, had never heard of a mark resetting, but he refused to let his best friend dwell on it. Even now, Suga places a comforting hand on Daichi’s forearm as he gives him a comforting smile.

“Maybe fate decided it wasn’t the right time.” Suga offers, he didn’t have too much room to talk. His current significant other isn’t his soulmate and yet he refuses to let it go, saying that what he has makes him happy and that’s all that should matter.

Daichi sighs, taking a sip on his drink, one of his fears sitting on the tip of his tongue. “What if I end up arresting my soulmate?” “You’d have a pretty unique meet-up story. Ow!” Suga rubs his shin, Daichi sitting there with a smirk on his face.

“That aside, it doesn’t change the fact that it reset in Tokyo and I was just there temporarily.”

“Visit on a day off.” Suga shrugs, “though you were there for a festival that attracts tons of people.”

“I hope you’re better at advice when it comes to your students.”

Suga rolls his eyes, shoulders drooping in defeat, he really was out of ideas. “When exactly did it reset?”

“Not sure, it was low before I ran into Hinata, but by the time I got back from a call it had already reset.”

“Was there anyone else around? Besides Yachi.” Daichi just shakes his head, finishing off his drink before he twists his wrist causing the ice to circle around the glass. Then it hits him, there had been someone else, but he didn’t get a good glance, his partner was talking to them. He simply shrugged it off back then, but now he wondered if maybe, just maybe they had been his soulmate.

*          *          *          * Y/N

720:03:36

30 days

You’re dancing around your apartment, headphone in as you straighten up the throw blankets on the couch, so you didn’t hear the knocking on the door or the voice calling you until you turned and let out a scream.

You’re doubled over, panting as you struggle to catch your breath, Yachi apologizing frantically and repeatedly until you finally stand up, telling her you were just a bit startled.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” The worry on her face as plain as day.

“I swear,” you flop down on the couch, “what’s up?” “Oh yeah!” She instantly perks up, “my high school is doing an alumni volleyball game and Hinata’s going to be in it. Thought you might want to join!”

“When is it?” You know this is her way of saying ‘you can’t meet your soulmate if only go to work and home’ but you were pretty confident that if you waited long enough, they could just end up moving in next door.

“Next month! It’ll be so much fun!” She pulls her hands up to her chest, putting on her best pouty face, “please Y/N.”

You want to just tell her no because who knows what you could end up doing that clashes with her plans. Plus, if you had counted correctly and your clock didn’t decide to reset again, that would be close to when you were supposed to meet your soulmate. And you had been in Tokyo when it almost hit 0, so they had to be here, right?

“Yeah, of course.” You gave her a smile as she gave you a quick hug, telling you just how excited Hinata and the rest of the crows would be, apparently, she bragged about you to all her former classmates. She excuses herself to make a call, most likely to Hinata, and you take the time to sigh, you had never cared about your soulmate before, what was so different now?

*          *          *          * Daichi

“Did you just put in for time off?” His partner Ito teases, sitting down at his desk that’s next to Daichi’s.

“I’ve taken time off before.”

“Three years ago, doesn’t count.”

“It was—” Daichi starts to protest before he realizes that Ito’s right, the last time was just before Ito was assigned his partner and it had been for one of his sibling’s graduation.

“This much be important then.”

He shrugs, “just getting together with some old teammates from high school.”

Ito smirks, “should I call you captain to help take you back?”

“Don’t even.” Daichi shakes his head, getting up before heading to the breakroom. Maybe meeting up with old friends would help take his mind off the whole Tokyo debacle. Glancing down, he signs when he sees his countdown.

480:52:46

20 days.

*          *          *          * Y/N

“My mom said that you are more than welcomed to stay, she has the guest room ready.” Yachi beams, bringing you the usual after lunch coffee she gets. For the last few days Yachi has been eagerly gushing about the upcoming alumni event, having the entire weekend planned out with tons of things to do.

“I don’t want to impose.”

“You aren’t, if anything she’s excited to finally meet you!”

You haven’t had the courage to actually tell Yachi that you no longer wanted to go, that you would rather just stay at home instead of being the one that brings down the mood. The countdown on your wrist has all but consumed you lately and as you get closer and closer, you just want to forget about it. People lived happily without them, right? Who was fate anyways, trying to tell people who they should and shouldn’t be with. If you put in the effort, anything could work, right?

Part of you knows that’s not true, you watched someone try to date their someone who wasn’t their soulmate. They were blissfully happy and everything seemed wonderful, until one of them met their soulmate and soon their relationship had burnt out. It seemed no matter what, that bond from a soulmate just overfloods anything else.

But then again, when you watched just how much Yachi lights up when she hears from Hinata or when someone mentions him, you couldn’t help but want that too. Wanting someone who acted like they were seeing you for the first time each time they saw you, being able to just know how you felt with one look. You look down at the clock again, wondering if maybe it had reset because you didn’t have the right mindset back then. That if maybe fate somehow knew you weren’t ready yet, if it took almost having them to losing them for you to finally realize just how much a soulmate could offer you when you let your guard down.

240:26:01

10 days.

*          *          *          * Daichi

Night patrols are something Daichi never really thought he’d find himself enjoying, but the ability to just causally drive around in silence is more welcoming that he considered it would be. Originally, his partner Ito was supposed to have patrol but he offered to pick it up since he was getting the next few days off to visit with his former classmates, he really didn’t mind the last-minute change to his schedule. Especially since he was getting nervous thinking about the game tomorrow, it wasn’t that he was worried about his skill set, but there were going to be several pro players in attendance.

It was already 8:45PM which meant he only had 15 minutes before his shift ended and he could go home, which he figured would go by slowly since most people were already in for the night. The sudden blur of speeding headlights catch his eyes and he let out a defeated sigh, of course it was too much to ask for a quiet night.

16:14:32

*          *          *          * Y/N

Shit!

You curse yourself, you had told Yachi that you’d take the train to Miyagi, she left the day before to meet up with Hinata, but you ended up staying later at work than intended. So here you are, five hours into your drive, half asleep and irritated, you should’ve just told her no.

You hear your phone going off, no doubt it’s Yachi asking where you are, you look down briefly to grab it, not paying attention to the change in speed limits as you continue down the road. It’s not until you hear police sirens that your attention is pulled away from everything else and you just want to scream.

Luckily due to the almost empty streets, you are able to pull over with ease, the patrol car pulling in behind you shortly after. You close your eyes, hitting your forehead to the steering wheel repeatedly before you hear a car door close and brace yourself.

*          *          *          * Daichi

He taps on the driver’s side window twice with his knuckle, waiting for it to be rolled down. A speeding ticket wouldn’t take long to write up, so his plans to be home by 9:30PM was still looking good which he was thankful for.

As the window rolls down, he catches his soul mark in the reflection and he scrunches up his face, getting an odd look from the driver of the vehicle.

00:00:02

*          *          *          * Y/N

“This is awkward, but—” You stop, noticing where his line of sight is and you finally look down at your wrist.

00:00:00

He smirks, “I never thought I’d meet my soulmate right before issuing them a speeding ticket.”

You aren’t completely sure why, but you end up laughing to the point you end up coughing. You couldn’t believe it, your whole life wondering at what moment you’d meet your soulmate, thinking of all the different situations that could possibly set up running into them, for it to end up like this. Talk about anticlimactic.

“Speaking of soulmates, think you could let me off with a warning?” You bat your lashes at him, really hoping that the soulmate card will work.

He clicks his tongue, smile on his face, “no can do.”

You drop your jaw in disbelief, “I guess this will be one hell of a meet-cute story, huh?”

*          *          *          * “You are so lame, Daichi.” Sugawara laughs, Nishinoya joining in on joking with their former captain.

Daichi glances over to the other side of the gym where you are, laughing with Yachi and Kiyoko and he can’t help but be smitten. He had tried for the longest time to not imagine his soulmate, not wanting to put that imaginary burden of being what he had wanted on the one he ended up with, but with you, you just smashed through any expectations he had and it had only been half a day.

You look over and see Daichi looking at you before you quickly turn your head away, getting a laugh from the former team managers. You were thrilled to have your soulmate, everything made sense, and it definitely helped that he was easy on the eyes.

“I still can’t believe he gave you a ticket!” Yachi protests, shooting Daichi a scold.

“I can.” Kiyoko smiles, “and I don’t think Y/N minds.”

Kiyoko’s right, you don’t really mind at all, because that’s part of your story with your soulmate, with Daichi. The person who had you waiting at the edge of your seat since before you could even tell time, the person that the stars had willed to be yours.

The first time you had almost met, he was in Tokyo because the festival needed more officers to help monitor things, it was just by chance that he ran into his former classmates that you happened to be with. The time you actually met, he was covering a shift that he wasn’t even supposed to be working and you were running late which was something you didn’t tend to do.

He wraps an arm around your waist, pulling you into his side, placing a soft kiss on the side of your forehead. You let yourself melt into his side, finally understanding what was so special about soulmates, why so many people spent forever trying to find theirs.

“You know, I can talk to my boss, erase the ticket.” “No way! I’m gonna frame it!”

Daichi’s face deadpans, “what?” You nod, “oh yeah, you aren’t gonna live that one down.”

Daichi just shakes his head, letting out a deep breath, suddenly realizing you were gonna be as much trouble as Kageyama and Hinata were. But somehow, he feels himself looking forward to the adventure that was you.

[shoichee]

Heyy congrats on 100 followers^_^ Could you do prompt no 25 with kise?

HELLO HELLO HELLO THANK YOU FOR BEING PATIENT;; i am finally here with this request! This Kise is a mixture of dramatic, whiny, wholesome, and asshole (if you REALLY squint though) just sweeter overall~

Kise x Reader

25. “You’re mine. I don’t share”

Word Count: 2953

prompt list here

»»—————　☼　—————««

The day he had always dreaded slowly crawled by after the sluggish, harsh months of winter took their sweet time.

Though, he’s quite certain that the dreaded day would also… ironically take its sweet time to pass to the subsequent day.

“(y/n)-cchi!!” He sees you fumbling with your school bag on the school benches before he sprints to your side. “What’s with the frown anyways?” He stops to rub a thumb to smooth out the furrow out of your forehead. “Come on, if you keep that up, those wrinkles would actually stay there permanently, y’know… it wouldn’t be good for your skin at all.”

Upon seeing your exasperated reaction to his dramatic exclaim, he couldn’t help but childishly grin. Perhaps today wouldn’t be bad after all. Not when it started off on such a good note like this seeing you first thing in the morning.

“Anyways,” you sigh. “You didn’t have to run all the way over here… I was gonna catch up to you in a few minutes.”

“Yeah, but…” Kise gives a chagrined laugh, fiddling with his locks. “You looked really scary having a scowl like Kagamicchi, (y/n)-cchi. Wanna let your boyfriend in about your troubles?” Of course he had to pull the puppy eyes on you. Typical Ryōta.

“Hmmm…” you hummed for a bit, clearly trying to stall for an appropriate answer but putting up a facade of being dramatic like Kise. “Not really of importance. Just something I’ve been thinking about to deal with some scheduling and last-minute things.”

“Eeeeeeh? It didn’t really look that way to me…” Kise pouts, jamming his hands into his blazer pockets as he continued to stare at you. You slightly squirm under his intense scrutiny, but you sigh before turning to walk ahead. “But if that’s all it was, you can always ask me for help, (y/n)-cchi.”

“And since when did our all-star player and model have spare time?” you tease, swiftly changing the topic. “Hurry now, Ryōta. We have to get to class or we’ll be late.” Yet, even as you continue to briskly walk, you still felt something piercing at the back of your head before that feeling eventually subsided. You turn to call for him before you continue strolling into the building.

Kise sports a harsh frown, staring at the ground pensively for a few moments before sighing. He finally walks to class after you, trying to mentally prepare himself for the inevitable incoming chaos.

———

“Kise!!”

“Wh-Where did he go?! He was… just here a moment ago…!”

“Do you think he’s with that basketball club…?”

“Bummer… I really wanted him to have these.”

“So why do we have to help you hide when you could always tell them off to leave you alone?!” Kasamatsu scolds, irk marks apparent on his temple. “You’re always creating these problems for yourself!”

“Kasamatsu,” Moriyama ticks his tongue in disappointment. “Don’t be crass. We should be thanking him for bringing everyone over here. In this way, we all have a greater shot of getting chocolates, or even better… a cute date!” At his words, the captain only groans before facepalming; however, when he takes a deep breath and turns to lecture Kise about these matters once more, he notices the 1st-year’s sullen and distracted expression.

“Oi, does this sort of stuff really bother you?” Kasamatsu roughly ruffles his hair to snap him out of his thoughts. “You shouldn’t be encouraging this type of behavior from others. Just put a stop to them for your own good.”

“It’s not that…” Kise mumbles while looking off to the side with his arms crossed. “Besides, they always follow me around regardless of what I do anyways.”

“Oh!! I saw him moping a(l)ound after (y/n)-san [went ahead] this mo(l)ning! Su(l)e(r)y it’s about that!” Hayakawa explodes into the conversation with enthusiasm, eyes slightly sparkling at the fact that he hit the nail on the head about Kise’s mood. Kise only pouts more in silence in response.

“Well, if that’s the case,” Kasamatsu huffs irritatedly, as if the solution was as clear as day. “Then talk it out with (y/n)-san! Quit moping around like you have all the time in the world!” As he said this, he puts a firm foot on Kise’s back, ensuring that there would be a visible footprint on his blazer.

“Ow!” Kise laments. “But Kasamatsu-senpai… We’ve just started dating, and it feels out of line if I’m always snooping around in (y/n)-cchi’s business… It wouldn’t make sense for me to be nosy if they already told me they could handle this on their own… but…”

His teammates lean in closer to try to pick up Kise’s next words.

“Today’s Valentine’s… day, so I was kinda hoping… things would be… different?” Kise stops to crane his neck around out of uncertainty, which was quite uncharacteristic of the usually self-assured ace player. “Though (y/n)-cchi never seemed to be someone who liked stuff like this, but it would be nice if I got…”—he coughs out the next words—“... chocolates from… y’know.”

“W-W-What?!” Kasamatsu’s entire face erupts into a red tomato, slowly backing up. “That’s what you’ve been upset about?!”

“Ah,” Moriyama says, as if he understood everything. “Yes, yes… I see it now. Kise, if you want to get chocolates from (y/n)-san, you have to create the perfect inviting atmosphere and present yourself as an elevated gentleman. I guarantee this method will work…!”

“Moriyama-senpai, what are you even talking about?” Kise raises a skeptical brow but nonetheless tries to be polite to his senior. Hayakawa slings an over-friendly arm around his shoulders, but with the sudden weight, Kise’s head slumps down a bit.

“You can do this!!” Hayakawa shouts, pumping a fist up.

“What? Do what? No way I’m taking Moriyama-senpai’s suggestion!” Kise firmly pries Hayakawa’s arm off before he does his easy-going sigh. “It’s not that big of a deal. Don’t worry, I’m sure we can all go do karaoke night instead, right?~”

“Hmph, no taste. I still suggest for us to go pick up dates after school today,” Moriyama huffs with a slight pout, but it looks like no one paid any mind to his comment, because everyone started packing up their belongings to go back to their respective classes after lunch.

———

Kise plasters on his usual beguiling smile across his face, trying hard to not grimace at the ever-growing piles of sickenly sweet desserts on his desk… and the ever-louder fawnings of surrounding students vying for his attention. While the coos and ah’s are thrown in his direction, his mind is elsewhere… to you.

You’ve been actively avoiding him today. That much was obvious… especially during breaks.

Even when he eyes at your desk every so often, you don’t even notice his gaze, deep in thought with a scrunch in your brows every single time. Did he do something to upset you recently without him realizing it? He taps his pencil with a steady rhythm on his desk while racking his mind for any possible offenses he might’ve committed… all with that convincing smile still visible on his face.

“Kise, Kise! Will you accept my chocolates today?”

“Ah… hm…”

“Kise-sama, what do you think about these?”

“Nothing in particular…”

“Please take these…”

“Now, now everyone…!” Kise’s voice finally rings out loud and clear, taking Kasamatsu’s suggestion. “I’m touched that everyone put in their efforts for these! But you see… there’s way too much for me to carry and take home as of now… so I would really appreciate everyone to save it for someone much worthier of these chocolates than me!~”

Either way, Kise was going to dump all of the sweets off to the Kaijō team for them to enjoy these more than he ever could. After the clamors of disappointment and understanding, he was relieved to see that he was finally left alone, with the mountain of chocolates being his sole company. Yet, he was still hoping that you would stop by his desk after the crowd dispersed.

You didn’t.

———

He’s unbelievably antsy.

So much so that even the other upperclassmen besides Kasamatsu had to kick him out of his thoughts to focus on practice. Still, could anyone blame him for being so jittery when it was already after school, with still no signs of you nearby?

“What did I just tell you about that gloomy face?” Kasamatsu asks, smacking the back of Kise’s head. “Did you not talk to (y/n)-san about this?” The team starters were walking out of the gym, their outstretched shadows covering the orange-cast path with every step they took.

“Er… well… (y/n)-cchi didn’t look like they were in the mood for a conversation with me—Kasamatsu-senpai don’t give me that look! I swear I didn’t do anything wrong at all!”

“Tsk tsk,” Moriyama butts in. “Looks like you didn’t try my foolproof plan either.”

“Your idea is the last thing I’d ever do!”

“Hmph, suit yourself.”

Kasamatsu stares at Kise for a few moments, turning to face his shadow on the ground before looking at his face again with a frown. Kise catches his gaze and returns it with an inquisitive look of his own.

“Kasamatsu-senpai… that look you’re giving me is sorta scary, y’know…”

“Kise,” the captain says. “You said that (y/n)-san likes you right?”

“Of course!... or at least I hope so.”

“Then you shouldn’t worry, dumbass. Didn’t you say that they might not be a fan of doing things like this? Valentine’s Day isn’t for everyone.” He sighs before continuing. “So don't get yourself in a twist just because you didn’t get candy from them. Just because everyone has always given you chocolates every year doesn’t mean that there won’t be a first time where someone won’t really do that. Keep your ego in check, rookie.”

“E-Ego?! Rookie?! Kasamatsu-senpai, you’re cruel!”

“The captain means well, Kise,” Kobori says, putting a comforting hand on his shoulder. “He’s right that today isn’t everyone’s cup of tea. Perhaps (y/n)-san merely thought of it as another ordinary day.”

“Well… when you put it like that… I guess you’re right… It’s not the end of the world if I don’t get chocolates from them, and I guess it’s not fair of me to expect something like that out of them and get upset when it doesn’t happen. Thanks, senpai.”

“Well if you got it, then quit moping! If our ace player is in low spirits, the rest of the team will follow suit! Jeez…”

With his spirits uplifted by his seniors, Kise stops and waves off his upperclassmen before he sets off to look for you. Even if he doesn’t get anything from you, he wants to spend time with you before Valentine’s Day was over at the very least. Now… if he remembered your normal schedule, you should still be on campus near the…

He stops, wide-eyed.

Were you giving chocolate to someo—were they giving you packaged chocolate too?—

Before he could fully register the dull pain settling itself in his heart, his legs moved into overdrive, sprinting at breakneck speed that would’ve ended Aomine’s fast-pace career had he actually done this in the courts.

“(y/n)-cchi!!~~~~” He cheerfully calls out, completely masking the hurt from his voice and from his face. In hearing his unmistakable nickname for you, you turn to him mildly shocked seeing him bolting straight for you without a single warning.

“R-Ryō—!”

“(y/n)-cchi!~” He pounces on you with a fierce embrace from behind, his arms wrapped around your upper body and his head on your shoulder. But his chirpy closed-eye smile completely wipes off into a cool, narrowed stare directed at the person in front of you.

“... You’re mine. I don’t share.”

“Ryōta!” You turn around to face him within his hold with a chastise, and then you turn back to the person in front with an embarrassed apology. “I’m sorry, he’s usually not like this, I don’t think. Please don’t let him scare you like that…”

“(y/n)-cchi!!” Kise spins you back around to face him with his hands on your shoulders. You note the tight grip he had on you. “You’re awful, you know that? I waited the entire day for you to give me anything for Valentine’s but then thought maybe you didn’t celebrate today at all… and then you’re here giving chocolates to someone else?!”

“Um… (y/n)-san… should I leave?” You look out of your peripheral vision before giving a defeated sigh.

“I’m really sorry, but yes, that will be best. I hope you find the rest of the evening well.”

“H-Huh?! You’re… gonna ignore me? Oh, come on! We’re dating, right, so at least—” Before Kise went into full hysterics, you promptly placed a finger against his lips to shush him. Kise, who had a few tears accumulating on his long lashes, was stunned into silence, and it was frankly effective in stopping his theatrical tears.

“Ryōta…” you whisper, pulling your finger away from his lips to fiddle inside your school bag… just like this morning. He keeps quiet, but he resumes watching your every movement like a hawk. “I have your… chocolate here.”

“H-Huh?” Kise makes a noise of confusion but still keeps the silence, opting to try to figure out what the hell was going on.

“Happy Valentine’s Day, dummy.”

“I don’t get it.” He narrows his eyes, but you merely tilt your head in confusion while holding out the fancy package.

“H-Huh?” It was your turn to be befuddled. He crossed his arms petulantly in response.

“If you had it all this time… why didn’t you give it to me first thing in the morning? But you went and gave someone else chocolate first, and you know… it just didn’t feel good seeing you hand chocolates to them like that. Like, if I didn’t know better, I’d totally thought that you two were a couple—”

“Ryōta… were you jealous?”

“(y/n)-cchi, who wouldn’t be after seeing that?!”

“Ah, dummy,” you tease, realization dawning on your face. “Those were giri choco… they were the last club member I had to find to give to them in honor of our newfound friendships. You know, after the bonding activities we did in our club room this year?”

“Ah…?” Kise merely blinks before he slightly flushes from embarrassment. “But it still doesn’t make sense!”—he stops to wipe “tears” from his eyes with his arm—“I know we’ve barely started dating, but not only did you not give me anything until now, you actively ran and hid from me! You really broke my heart the entire day!” You grew nervous in an instant, slightly wringing your wrists and tapping one foot behind the other.

“People told me…” you started hesitantly, “that you hated Valentine’s Day. So…”

“Hn…” Kise stops his theatrics to give a casual shrug. “They’re right, more or less. I do find the entire thing annoying, to be honest.”

“Yes, exactly,” you reply. “Knowing you, they were probably right. Even still, I made you homemade sweets, but I didn’t know if it was a good idea to go through with this and give it to you. Besides, what if I was being too fast or forward? I don’t know… I lost all of my courage when I saw you that morning.”

“Eh??? Still, did you have to run from me like that? I seriously thought I did something wrong!”

“... I was jealous,” you whisper, looking down at your feet. “I didn’t like the fact that everyone was so bold to give you all their affection and confessions through their chocolates, but I didn’t feel like it was my place to tell them to back off. Felt like… it was better if I just… didn’t see it all. But… after seeing your outburst earlier, I decided it was the perfect time to give it to you…”

“(y/n)-cchi!!” Kise glomps onto you again, nuzzling his cheek against yours. Him being relieved is a huge understatement. “To think you were jealous too…!”

“Wh-What the—? Does that really make you happy?”

“Of course! It means that you care about me that much!” With one hand holding your Valentine’s chocolate, he tilts your chin with the other to plant a short kiss. “I was never a fan of this type of stuff, but… I love anything you give to me, I swear.”

“Ryōta…! K-Kissing? Right here in public?!”

“No one’s here anyways! They all went home, and speaking of home…” Kise grabs your hand to lead you out of the campus gates. “Do you want me to walk you home, or do you have any other place in mind you wanna go to?”

“Huh? Now? I mean, wait. How are we gonna go somewhere when you have all those… chocolates from school today? Wait, where are they anyways?”

“Oh, those? My teammates found them delicious apparently. I wouldn’t know.”

“You gave them away?!”

“Duh! Yours was the only one I wanted, (y/n)-cchi! Before you start lecturing me about how inconsiderate that is, if I just kept it, they would’ve all sat and melted on the tables anyways.”

You merely roll your eyes at him and sigh, but Kise only grins at your usual reactions to his antics.

“Just you wait for White Day next month, (y/n)-cchi~ I’m gonna go all out, and there’s no holding me back.”

———

Today might’ve been a bittersweet rollercoaster ride of emotions for the two of you, but the ending has morphed into something truly delectable. Just like the dark chocolate truffles in your Valentine’s gift to Kise.

[jishyucks]

Dollarstore Mistletoe ‣ ljn

‣ genre: fluff, friends-to-lovers, female reader

‣ wc: 2.7k

‣ summary: Jeno looked up at the mistletoe then at you, cheeks heating up from the situation. So that’s why Hyuck had mistletoe. 

this was going to be a short blurb but sike... enjoy!

-

You sat at the corner of the room, eyes drawn nervously at Donghyuck who was holding a tied up bunch of mistletoe in his hand. Though he was tossing it to himself, you could already read his mind from across the room. He had a sly smirk on his face as he glanced between you and Jeno who chose to sit between Jisung and Chenle.

Donghyuck, I fucking swear. You texted him, eyes growing wide in a subtle warning once he looked back up at you. 

He laughed out loud before texting you back, I’m not doing anything.

Not rn but ur going to.

He loved going over to your place just to tease you about your (apparent) undying love for Jeno, constantly pushing you to make a move because Jeno was a ‘giant wuss’ and ‘would not grow balls to do so himself’ while you ‘had potential’. And honestly, you weren’t sure what to believe when it came to Donghyuck. He was a trickster. Who knew if he was lying this time or not. 

You could easily recall maybe a week back when you were hanging out with this pest of a boy. He had been spontaneously mustering up a plan to get you and Jeno to kiss underneath some fake mistletoe he could find at the dollar store, which could then lead to confessing. 

“Please don’t. We’re not living in some rom-com, Hyuck,” you glared at him, hoping that his ridiculous plan would be thrown out the window, “It’s not going to happen.” There was not a single bone in your body confident enough to kiss the boy you’ve held the longest crush on. Donghyuck was wrong when he said you had potential, meaning he could be wrong when it came to this plan he barely put effort into arranging.

“I know,” he replied simply, “But shit like this is inevitable.  Plus you’re forgetting that I have the brain of a mastermind.” You ignored the way he wiggled his eyebrows in an attempt to persuade you, obviously failing. He knew he had to do everything himself, whether you liked it or not. Besides, he knew things you didn’t. He knew these plans were going to work. 

So now, here he sat at Jeno’s house, waiting for the perfect time to dangle the plant above you both. He already knows you had the capability to run if you saw him move even an inch towards you. You were probably as alert as those animals being preyed on on National Geographic, ears perked and everything. Your fight or flight response was already activated just because of him. 

As for Jeno, he was probably the complete opposite of you. He was leaning back on the couch with a delicate looking smile sitting on his face. Donghyuck was glad that he didn’t have a single clue about what was going on. But also... did he ever know what was going on?

A Christmas movie was playing on the TV even though barely anyone was paying any attention to it. Jaemin and Renjun were in the kitchen baking gingerbread cookies, following a recipe they found tiktok, while Jisung and Chenle were playing the nth game of PubG on their phones. Mark and Jeno were probably the only ones paying attention to the film, occasionally letting out a snort or giggle at a cheesy joke being delivered. Then there was you and Donghyuck, the only two aware of the plan that you didn’t even want to take part in. 

“Why are you holding weed?” Jisung finally lifts his head from his phone’s screen, brows furrowed at the mistletoe in Donghyuck’s hands. He pointed slightly towards them, arm falling to his side soon after. 

The older boy gave Jisung an unreadable look, “It’s not weed. It’s mistletoe.” Again, he tossed it up, barely grazing the popcorn ceiling before catching it. 

“Ohh~ like that Justin Bieber song!” Jisung pointed out. His attention was soon directed back to his phone, probably beginning another game alongside Chenle. Jeno glanced at the younger boy and just shook his head in adoration and slight genuine confusion. It seemed like he literally had no idea, no clue, why Donghyuck was holding mistletoe. This, again, was good news to Donghyuck. 

“Cookies!” Jaemin barged into the living room dressed in a holiday apron and oven mitts. He had flour sprinkled along his chest and collar bone, probably thrown on there by Renjun, who followed closely behind him. 

Like young kids, attention spans were cut off and brought towards the gingerbread cookies, its aroma soon flooding the room. Through the pride that Jaemin gave off while standing there, you already knew the cookies were good. Especially with the help of Renjun.

Ditching your tense position, you had completely forgotten of your silent duel with Donghyuck, hopping up from the couch and skipping over to Jaemin. The others followed you shortly, Jeno being the second there. 

Donghyuck pushed himself off the couch last, still playing with the mistletoe between his fingertips. Once spotting you standing directly next to Jeno, he stopped himself from audibly gasping and darted towards you both, holding up his arm above the space between the two of you, “Ah! Mistletoe~” 

Your heart dropped, hand physically letting go of the cookie. It plopped back onto the tray as you spun around to face Donghyuck and then to an equally thrown off Jeno. You wanted to beat yourself up for letting your guard down for cookies. 

Jeno looked up at the mistletoe then at you, cheeks heating up from the situation. So that’s why Hyuck had mistletoe. The math was mathing. 

Jeno took in what was happening. Even if it was so sudden, Jeno didn’t feel like resisting. Instead he stood there and tried to read the non-verbal cues you were showing, trying to figure out whether or not you would want to carry out this unexplained tradition. Your face seemed to express no emotion, though he figured you were deep in thought, trying to process what was happening. And that was exactly what you were doing.

“I told you not to,” you mumbled towards Donghyuck’s direction. The looks you were sending Donghyuck could be used as weapons in some other dimension, but in this one the most you could do was intimidate the boy. In a brief state of panic, assuming Jeno found this situation weird, you tried to leave the situation, avoiding Jeno’s gaze as you did.

“It’s tradition!” Donghyuck attempted to pull you back. He was trying to be Christmas Cupid, knowing that feelings were being exchanged without the other’s knowledge. He thought he’d be helping.

Jeno shook his head, “N-no, Hyuck, it’s fine… if Y/N doesn’t want to do it, we can’t force her.” He felt himself gulp, mostly from the subtle rejection he’d received, before quickly reaching for a cookie and fleeing the scene. 

Donghyuck turns to you, arm dropping to his side and mouth wide open, “He was going to kiss you!” 

For a second, you doubted Donghyuck, shaking your head. But then at the realization that Jeno had left the room in a rather disappointed state, you probably were wrong and for once, Donghyuck was right. But there was no way you were admitting that in his presence. 

It would’ve been completely silent if it wasn’t for the movie playing in the background. Everyone was still trying to process what had just happened, while you were still staring Donghyuck down. 

“Are you blaming me?” You gestured to yourself. Sure it could have actually been your fault but that really wasn’t good for your degrading self-esteem right now. 

“Yes,” Donghyuck threw the fake mistletoe onto the three seater couch, “It looked like you didn’t want to kiss the boy. You basically stomped on his heart.” Sure Donghyuck was over exaggerating but knowing how much Jeno liked you, you probably did. 

“No I didn’t,” you try to deny everything, not wanting your hopes to be crushed by false information and beliefs. 

“You did,” Mark butted in, “He looked like a kicked puppy.” You shifted your gaze from Donghyuck to Mark, someone who you could trust a bit more, and felt your frown deepen. Feeling yourself stumble back in the slightest bit, you glance at the stairs where Jeno had gone, probably to his room. Should you talk to him? 

“Just go talk to him,” Jaemin pushed on, as if he could read what you were thinking, “But take an extra cookie with you.” He held the tray of baked goods in front of you and you complied, slithering past Mark, Renjun, and Chenle before going up the stairs. 

You had no idea what you were going to tell Jeno. That you wanted to kiss him? That would come off as weird. 

The pair of cookies in your hands could be your conversation starter.

Upon reaching his door, you raise a fist to knock. 

If it was possible, Jeno would slap himself so many times just so he could knock some sense into himself. He was sitting at the edge of his bed with his palm to his forehead, feeling like an entire circus. Why the hell didn’t he even act like he was weirded out by Donghyuck and that fucking mistletoe? Why did he act like he was waiting for a long time for that opportunity to kiss you? 

Maybe because he was. But he should’ve at least pretended like he wasn’t.

Jeno threw himself back into his bed, blinking at the ceiling while he mentally attacked himself for being so foolish. How would he recover from this? He shouldn’t have ran out of the room like that. It made him so obvious. It gave away the feelings he hoped he had been hiding well the entire time. 

Jeno you’re so fucking stupid, he thought, teeth gritting. 

He clenched his fist and started to hit the middle of his forehead lightly with his knuckles, startled when he heard a loud knocking sound. 

Was that my forehead or was that the door?

Sitting up, he pivoted his head so that he was facing the door, brows furrowed as he waited for another indication that the sound was (hopefully) the door and not his skull. 

“Jeno, it’s me.” Your voice was muffled and your shadow could be seen through the bottom. 

For a second, Jeno hesitated, unsure if he was ready to face you at that moment, but he soon decided against it, standing up and towards his bedroom door in order to let you in. Opening it just a crack, he peeked out, seeing your shorter figure staring up at him, eyes slightly unreadable, “I brought cookies.”

Jeno couldn’t help but feel his chest warm up at the sight of you. He held back a smile to keep himself grounded. Pulling the door to create a wider opening, he let you in.

“Are you okay?” You knew he wasn’t okay. Just by the look in Jeno’s eyes, you could tell he had a lot going on in his head. You didn’t want to start the conversation off with ‘I actually wanted to kiss you too’ because in all honesty, anyone faced with that statement would be scared in one way or another, regardless of their feelings for the other. 

“I guess you can say that,” Jeno hummed and sat at the foot of his bed. You handed him one of the cookies and bit into the second one you brought. Jeno couldn’t even make eye contact with you. He was a smidge too embarrassed to do so. 

You sat next to him, the heat of your bodies bouncing off of each other from how close you were, “What do you mean?” You were drawing the conversation out while you still tried to run through what you were gonna say as your version of a confession. 

He shrugged, taking a small bite, almost a nibble, from the cookie, “I know you’re not stupid, Y/N… Donghyuck was painfully obvious and so was I.” Feeling his heart pick up its pace scared him. This only meant he could either lose total control of his words, or just not speak at all. He focused on keeping them tame, “I’m sorry you had to witness that. Just forget it happened, okay? Sometimes, Donghyuck doesn’t know he’s going overboard.” 

Jeno spoke softly, head dipping down and bangs falling over his eyes. The glasses he wore slipped down his nose as he did, but he quickly caught them with the tip of his index finger. 

“Donghyuck doesn’t normally pull shit like that unless he has to,” you say as a reply, “He somehow always knows things we don’t.” You hoped Jeno got the hint from what you were saying, but by the way he kept his attention at the cooling gingerbread cookie in his hand as he nodded, you knew that he was completely clueless. Were you being too subtle?

“Do you know why he decided to buy that plastic plant in the first place?” You took a bite from Jaemin’s cookie and swung your legs. 

Jeno shrugged again, “Because he’s Donghyuck?”

 You both let out brief chuckles but you regained your composure and sighed. From downstairs, you hear the others laughing at something, some background noise from the near silence in the room.

“Because he knows how I feel.” 

Jeno’s ears perked up at this statement, still afraid to look at you. He shifted in place, “How you feel?”

You rolled your eyes at Jeno, hitting him playfully, “Lee Jeno!” Yeah, you did want to drag the conversation in the first place, but it was getting too long. You wanted to get to the point and Jeno wasn’t taking any of the hints you were throwing. 

“What?” He whined, acting as if you hit him hard when everyone knows he’s got the muscle to resist that pain. This familiar feeling between the two of you, the wave of comfort he felt, caused him to turn towards you. Once he realized what he had done, he turned away quickly, feeling himself grow timid once again. 

“I know you’re not that stupid either, Jeno. Can you please look at me?” To no surprise he doesn’t listen. He was getting all flustered. The shy, blushy type of flustered. 

Lifting your hand up to his face, you grabbed it softly and turned it so that he was facing you. He complied, letting you turn his head, only, his eyes were shut tightly. 

You huffed, “Jeno! Please open your eyes.” He shook his head while his face was still being held with your hand, “Please?” 

Again, he refused, this giving you permission to attempt to pry his eyelids with your own fingers. Though you gave up quite quickly. You didn't want to force them open as any sort of mishap was bound to happen. 

“Last chance to open your eyes,” you warned, only he didn’t know what you were warning him about. He still kept them closed, feeling comfortable in this position he was in now, “Fine, Jeno, if you don’t open your eyes, then I will…”

“You will what?” He smirked. Though you couldn’t see his eyes, you could see his emotion through his raised brow. Deep down he knew what you were about to do. But he wanted to sit back and wait for it to happen. 

Without thinking, you leaned in and brought his lips down to yours. At first there wasn’t any response from Jeno, but once he had finally processed what was going on, his eyes shot open, and as if it was some sort of instinct, he kissed back. 

You liked this feeling. Maybe you would’ve felt it sooner if you hadn’t refused to kiss him earlier. But also you liked it how it was right now, and Jeno felt the same. Private, without any of the others watching. And it wasn’t because you had to follow a tradition, it was because you both wanted to do it.

After a few more long seconds, you both pulled away, beaming shyly at each other. You finally let go of his face and sat yourself back. 

“What was…?” Jeno was at a loss of words. 

You laughed softly, almost coming out as a giggle, “That’s how I feel.” 

Maybe Donghyuck was right when said you had that sort of potential.