#i could definitely continue the way im going. but its frustrating to keep trying things and them not work out | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

wincore · 4 years ago

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field day | jung sungchan

pairing: sungchan x fem!reader

synopsis: when you, as cheer captain, are best friends with the pride and joy of the soccer team, rumors are bound to fly around.

genre: high school au, soccer au, bff2l, fluff

words: 7.5k

warnings: language, jung “the risk i took was calculated but man am i bad at math” sungchan

request: sungchan + ball + “ everyone is looking at us. is that a good or a bad thing? ” (from the first option) ^__^

song recs: after school - weeekly / pleaser - wallows / some - bol4 / sweet talk - saint motel / love so sweet - cherry bullet

a/n: i tried recalling some hs memories for this and im hoping i wasnt the only one that went through the “shipped with a random dude” ordeal LOL. i haven’t written shorter fics in a while so i’m glad i got to. tq for requesting, lovepie <33

In high school, peer pressure tends to come in different forms. For you, it’s taken the shape of this.

“Kiss! Kiss! Kiss!”

You look around your classmates, scanning each and every face chanting with glee like you’re a star player scoring the winning point. The tall figure shifts beside you, glancing at you like a blinking idiot. You’re not even on the losing team but it feels just as frustrating.

You glare at the boy beside you. The trouble is Jung Sungchan. The trouble has always been Jung Sungchan.

“Come on!” Chenle calls with a teasing grin from the buzzing crowd. The little shit. It’s getting hotter with each minute you spend by the green soccer field and its dusty chalked lines, just at the tip of the bleachers. You didn’t even get enough time to breathe before you were surrounded, the soccer team pushing a stumbling Sungchan onto you. It’s too sunny for this today.

“The star soccer player gets a kiss from the lead cheerleader after a winning game! That’s the rule.” Chenle announces.

Sungchan looks at you and you turn to him, the both of you looking at each other like fish out of water. Even though you’ve clarified at least a hundred times that you’re just friends, your peers don’t seem to be satisfied. (“Famous last words,” they say.)

“No,” you say, firmly.

“No,” Sungchan agrees, nodding his head wisely.

“Don’t copy me,” you say, smacking his chest, and a quiet ‘oof’ escapes his mouth.

The fact that you’ve been best friends since Sungchan offered you a light green crayon in elementary school just fuels the idea that you have to date. There’s this difference between elementary school kids teasing and high school kids teasing—it was so much easier back when boys were afraid of cooties from girls. It was innocent too. Now, it’s more of nudges and sly grins, teasing with unnecessary innuendo. (What else do you expect from teenagers experiencing puberty?) It doesn’t stop you from being best friends though. Sungchan still visits on Fridays to get on your mom’s nerves and help you with homework (or try to). You still have all the little trinkets he’s gifted you over the years and the lock to his phone is still your birthday. You’re best friends and strictly that.

When you got into the same middle school though is when it started going downhill. Holding his hand was awkward, touching him in any way was awkward and god forbid you compliment him on something. The kids around you would run across the halls saying “(name) likes Sungchan!” or the other way around sometimes. Heathens, the lot of them. But at the very least, he wasn’t too fazed and you wonder how he could be that even-tempered. If it was just you feeling that way, then maybe you did like him more than he did you.

You shake it off.

Sungchan’s much more grown now and at least a foot taller since his awkward adolescent years; he looks handsomer too but you wouldn’t be caught dead saying it out loud. After all, it’s only going to spark another debate on the anonymous school forum. (“(name) finds Jung Sungchan attractive, they’re totally dating.” “I knew it. A boy and a girl can’t be friends, especially if they’re both good looking.”) If you’re being honest, you hate the rumours so much—it’s one of the reasons, apart from puberty, stopping you from being as close as before. However, you do understand that this is how the passage of time works. You’re not going to be spending all of your time with each other, yes, but you still regard him as important. Your life is too busy now, with exams and practice—and you’d think a busy bee would get some honey as reward.

Sungchan’s curls stick to his forehead, unruly after he wiped at them with a towel. The sunlight plays with his eyes when he looks at you intently and you shrug. The smell of sweat is starting to make you nauseous. You remember that you too need to take a shower.

“I’ll see you tomorrow,” you mumble.

“Not today?” He asks.

You shake your head. “The girls have a plan.”

It’s not just the sweat. Or the crowds. You don’t like being here at all. There’s one more problem with this place.

You hate soccer.

And by hate, you mean you despise it. Like you’ll throw up at the sight of it. What’s so riveting about a bunch of smelly, sweaty guys excited about chasing a patterned ball? You’ve tried to understand it but every time your dad explains the rules, you find yourself zoning out of whatever alien language he speaks.

Sungchan has been the closest to getting you to understand the game and even then, you refused to learn. It’s not like you’re society’s definition of girly—but you’re not a tomboy either. The school has granted you the “ice queen with a warm interior” stereotype so you’ll just go with that. To be honest, you’re just a little more awkward at open affection than your friends. (And Sungchan has the “friendly beagle” stereotype which you’ll agree is partly true. He’s more of a retriever though, with that size.) It’s just funny how you can never seem to know who you are but other people see so clearly.

You hurry up to the locker rooms and hope for a better evening than this afternoon.

The sky burns blue and you wipe the sweat off your brow once you step out of the changing room. Cooling off from your shower has gone to waste. Adjusting your school skirt, you take your usual strides to the school gates.

Ryujin seems to be showing Yuna a very flamboyant dance move while the latter hypes her up. Ryujin is in her gym uniform because she has no care for her reputation apparently, but she makes it work. Yuna’s about to show her own move when she notices you and waves at you vigorously enough to make you jog towards her and stop embarrassing herself in front of the after school crowd. But then again, she’s too cute for that.

“We got bored waiting for you,” Yuna explains, voice hoarse from her cold. Poor thing wasn’t let into performing because of it. “Do you wanna see our cool new move? Ryujin came up with it!”

Ryujin rolls her eyes. “You’re trying to advertise me to (name) so she can recruit me into cheerleading, aren’t you?”

You smile and cross your arms, facing Yuna who’s been caught mid-act. She smiles sheepishly and pats your shoulder like she just said a funny joke.

“Actually…” You begin and Ryujin holds up her arms in a cross.

“No. Never. I’m already part of the hip-hop dance club.”

“I was going to say that I’ll join you instead.”

Yuna gasps in betrayal, big eyes widening, and Ryujin grins before sticking her tongue out and potentially ruining her image with that expression. She doesn’t care, however.

“Anyway, I can’t wait to get to college and join a dance club.” Ryujin looks at the two of you excitedly. “I keep getting snaps from Yeji and feel so jealous.”

Yuna pouts. “Don’t be so happy about leaving me.”

“Aw, is the baby afraid of not getting any more sisterly doting?” Ryujin teases and you laugh at the disgruntled expression on Yuna’s face.

“Don’t worry,” Ryujin continues with a sly grin. “Taehyun’s here to keep you company for another year.”

Yuna turns red in the face, a high pitched complaint emitting from her throat. “I told you to keep quiet about that!”

“Oh, what’s this?” You wiggle your eyebrows. “We’re starting boy talk early today.”

Yuna huffs. “At least, mine’s just a crush. I don’t know what relationship status: complicated you have going on with Mr. Soccer Captain.”

You flush hotly. “There’s no relationship status to be complicated about! Seriously, why does everyone think we’re a thing?”

“You’re cheer captain and he’s soccer captain,” Ryujin answers logically. “Plus, you’re best friends.”

“You have a lot of sexual tension,” Yuna answers honestly.

You make a face, slipping your arms into theirs and pulling them along the sidewalk. You better get something to drink before the sky starts to turn purple from pink tinged blue.

“Ooh, another desperate attempt from (name) to not get teased,” Ryujin leans back to whisper to Yuna.

You stop walking. “Wait. Where are we going?”

Yuna shakes her head. “I’ll lead the way.”

Skipping over the concrete sidewalk, you laugh at your friends and their stories (read: Ryujin gushing over Yeji’s college dance club and Yuna’s newfound crush on Taehyun). The blue sky has tinged orange by now but it’s the sort of colour that sits in between more significant timeframes, like night and evening. Passing by a city square, you eye the people with wonder. A girl in a pink skirt skateboards smoothly over the concrete, her boyfriend filming her with a loving smile.

“We’re here!” Yuna announces.

You look around the large open plaza, with people of all ages and in different attires trying out skateboarding and rollerblading over the grey concrete. It’s been getting popular lately, with idol pop stars taking to it too but you never knew there was this big a community. There seems to be a few stalls renting out skateboards too. The wind caresses your hair, evening cool settling in nicely on your skin. The sky is purple but it’s lit up with the city buildings and street lamps flickering on. It’s not a bad day at all.

Someone catches your attention. A boy that sticks out like a sore thumb everywhere he goes.

“Sungchan?!”

Your eyes somehow always settle on his figure, tall and standing out in the crowd of teenagers. He clutches his blue bag, the one he’s had since third grade, close to his chest and looks more like a tourist in this place than a frequent visitor. He’s not the only one in school uniform now that you’re here.

“(name)!”

You hate how you love the way his face lights up when he sees you. You’re not actually into him. It’s your friends brainwashing you.

“I was going to invite you,” Sungchan says, a sorry smile on his face.

Ryujin and Yuna frown at each other but you can’t exactly ask the reason for it.

“Isn’t it great we had the same plans?” he beams at the three of you.

Yuna suppresses a smile and you wonder why. It’s not like your friends would know he’d be here—you’d know first as best friend.

"How did you guys come across this place?" He asks, eyes round with curiosity.

"Somi's Tiktok," Yuna answers, smiling. "We thought she works here but if she really was, guys would be swarming this place."

Ryujin raises her eyebrows. "Speaking of which, I can clearly see why there are so many girls here."

Sungchan beams, turning to you for affirmation and when you don't give him any, he drops his grin to a more polite smile.

“I don’t work at the stalls though,” he answers. “I’ve just been here a few times.”

“You’re trying to learn, aren’t you?” Ryujin asks, raising an eyebrow.

He nods. However, you furrow your eyebrows at her. How does she know? Eyes widening, you realize it must be the school forum. You remember reading a post about a student wanting to learn skateboarding and the wording felt familiar but you didn’t think much. How they figured it out, you will never know.

“Oh! Oh, I think my nose is bleeding. Oh god.” Yuna sniffs vehemently, her finger at her nose. “I think I’m going to need Ryujin to get me to a clinic.”

Linking her arm through Ryujin’s, Yuna makes an apologetic expression and runs off into a particularly crowded area.

You blink. The realization dawns.

"They just left me," you tell him, exasperated. "How could they just leave me?"

He shrugs. "My team left me at a rival school's field once."

Great. Your last outing before midterms and your friends have abandoned you. If this is the case, you wonder why they complain about you spending so much time with Sungchan and allegedly ignoring them.

You regain a sense of your surroundings and turn to him. "Wait. They really left you?"

He nods diligently, eyes trained upwards as he tries to recall the memory. "I told you, didn’t I? On the plus side though, I made friends with the opposite team."

"That's so… cute."

Your cheeks heat up at saying it out loud. If Sungchan is affected by it in any way, he doesn't show it. Instead, he has his usual smile on.

“Do you wanna try?” he asks. “Skateboarding. Or rollerblading but I personally don’t recommend that.”

He curls his lips, shaking his head slightly. You laugh. Of course this beanpole has trouble balancing on skates.

"I- I figured you'd be good at skateboarding. Since, you know, you're so balanced and all."

You raise an eyebrow. "You wanna add skateboarding to your resume or something?"

"Yeah, that and the ability to imitate dog sounds. Wanna see?"

"No, thanks. I’ll pray this weekend to cure your furry behaviour."

Before he can respond, you’re interrupted by a whirlwind of colours and excited calls. A few girls run up to the two of you, younger and probably in middle school, flocking to Sungchan like bees to honey. Never in your life have you felt so ignored as in this singular moment.

You blink, turning to Sungchan who looks like a rather helpless, flustered eye of the hurricane. The winds don't seem to be stopping any time soon.

You clear your throat trying to get their attention.

"Wow, you brought your girlfriend?" One of the girls exclaims, sounding disappointed.

The other girls make similar whines of disappointment and you have half the heart to whack them over the head and tell them to focus on their academics instead of boys.

"You're so lucky to have him as your boyfriend," a girl comments, round eyes brimming with jealousy.

“He’s not my boyfriend,” you declare sharply.

Sungchan looks at you with his doe eyes, blinking cartoonishly. You nudge him with your elbow.

“Yeah!” He agrees, with far too much gusto to be believable. “I’m not (name)’s boyfriend. I have no idea why everyone keeps saying that.”

“Let’s go, babe,” you say, resisting the urge to stick your tongue out at the girls. They’re younger than you and you have high school dignity, you remind yourself.

Slipping your hand into his, you take a few long strides away from them before you realize what you said.

“I- I did- I didn’t mean to call you babe,” you sputter, pulling your hand from his to look at him with wide eyes.

“It’s okay though?”

Sungchan raises an eyebrow and slips his hand back into yours, smiling.

“I don’t mind the rumours, you know?” He says honestly but his smile feels all too teasing. “Maybe we should go out for real.”

You huff, separating yourself from him again. “Maybe you just love attention. Disgusting.”

You point an accusatory finger at him and he bites at it playfully.

“While you're here, wanna see a cool trick I learned?" He straightens only having to tilt his head to look at you.

"If it's you falling on your face, then yes."

"I mean, hey, I could totally do that. Done that several times actually."

You smile despite trying your hardest not to. You like this about him—that he’s easygoing enough to make you look at life less seriously. If it’s with him, you could quit everything that makes you unhappy and start everything you love.

“So where is your skateboard?” you ask, walking side by side with him, who has finally learned to match your pace.

“It’s with one of my friends,” he answers, and points to a tall girl with long brown hair, wearing a pair of tomboyish shorts and T-shirt. Another girl with short hair and a bucket hat accompanies her, wearing a long hoodie and shorts, but she leaves before you reach them. They must be from a different school because you’ve never seen them before. The first thing that pops into your head is that they’d be good replacements for your cheerleading position if you were ever to leave. You shake your head. Now is not the time.

“That’s Jimin!” he introduces, and you wonder how he’s this way—how he makes friends so easily.

Jimin waves at Sungchan and then proceeds to ask if you’re his girlfriend with a big smile, like a script being followed everywhere you go.

She seems a little disappointed at the answer. “Well, I was going to suggest one of the couples skateboards.”

You flash her an awkward smile.

“But those are pretty difficult! I’ve been here for a month and my idea of skateboarding is still sitting on it while Soeun pushes me around. That’s my friend, by the way.”

“Ah.” You nod. “This is my first time skateboarding, actually. The only ‘sport’ I’ve ever done is cheerleading.”

Jimin furrows her eyebrows before her eyes widen. “Wait a minute. You’re the cheerleader best friend that Sungchan wouldn’t shut up about!”

Sungchan flusters, in the subtle way he usually does, and waves his hands robotically trying to explain. “I was just saying- that- that you’d be good at skateboarding. Because of the cheerleading.”

A boxy grin accompanies his explanation.

“Right.” Jimin covers her face and sends an obvious wink your way. “Anyway, you can have my skateboard for the day.”

She hands over a smooth black skateboard with white wheels, but on closer inspection you find that they’re light-up wheels instead. It’s oddly fitting for someone like Jimin even if you’ve known her the entirety of ten minutes. Sungchan is good at finding friends, rather. Soon enough, she runs off after making Sungchan promise he’ll deliver the skateboard home.

The trick Sungchan wanted to show you was a failed kickflip. At the very least, it made you laugh so hard you almost spit out the strawberry milk he’d bought you. Sipping his own banana milk, he sulked for a moment or two, telling you to try it out and see how difficult it is.

On the contrary, Sungchan was right. You are good at balancing on skateboards. But that’s where it ends. You don’t think you’ll be naturally good at kickflips, though being able to glide through the plaza while Sungchan runs after you with the drinks puts a big smile on your face. It’s the most fun you’ve had in a while.

Accompanied by Sungchan’s panicked “oh no”s and “oh we messed up”s, the two of you try the couple skateboarding move too; no one’s watching you here. It’s fun to see him stress over a skateboard because frankly, you’ve never met anyone as easy-going as Sungchan. (“I’ll figure it out along the way,” he says when you ask if he’s studying for finals, and proceeds to get a decent enough score). Suddenly the wandering gap is closed again. You’re not going to worry about stupid rumours from now on.

But for some reason, ‘you like him as a friend’ doesn’t sound right either. Despite having said it so many times, you might not believe in it. You shake off the thought. This evening, at least, you’re going to enjoy with Sungchan without thinking of teenage drama and hormones.

"You still don't think you and Sungchan make the perfect pair?" Yuna pouts.

You narrow your eyes. "I don't take opinions from traitors."

Chaeryoung leans back on her chair, and whispers to you asking if you’re okay. At least someone is concerned about you.

“It hurts to be left by my own friends but—”

“No, I meant, are you okay? Why aren’t you dating Sungchan already? You’re so cute together! And you’re best friends—Netflix writers literally daydream of this.”

You groan, throwing up your hands in defeat.

“And,” Yuna adds, knocking her chair closer. “Who’s really the traitor here? Us who ditched you with the love of your life—or you, who runs off every time she gets a call from her boyfriend?”

“Sungchan is not my boyfriend.” You cross your arms.

“She even shares her lunch with him more,” Ryujin complains from the side. “And they’re not even in the same class. Unlike me, by the way. Class 1 Shin Ryujin. Same class as you, (name).”

You slump, resting your forehead against the desk. At this point, you wish the teacher would walk in and start the class already. Unfortunately, lunch break isn’t over for another ten minutes and lady luck clearly isn’t smiling upon you.

“Speak of the devil!” Ryujin announces monotonously, leaning against her desk.

Sungchan and a few of his friends from the soccer team wave at you and the girls from the classroom door. Noticing Taehyun, Yuna quickly fixes her hair and you would tease her if Sungchan hadn’t casually strolled up to your desk and sat down on the chair in front of you. Long legs barely contained in the space, he adjusts himself by resting his arm on the headrest and his chin upon it. It’s all normal. However, when he leans down to match your eye level, you hear the sudden pit-a-pat of your pulse in your ear. At this proximity, you can even see the mole on his lip that he’s pointed out before. The sunlight from the open windows is pulling golden strings over his eyelashes and his lips aren’t dry as a desert like you expected. You know he uses the watermelon flavoured lip balm.

“Too close,” you croak. Embarrassed at your own voice, you rise sharply and glare at him.

“Is your heart fluttering?” Sungchan asks, smiling as he looks up at you.

You roll your eyes.

You can hear Yuna’s giggling and before you can shoot her a glare, Sungchan calls.

"Do you have any bandaids?"

He points to a rough scratch at the base of his palm, fingers slender and less calloused than what you'd pictured. Then again, soccer players don't use their hands much, do they?

You blink. "You came all the way here for bandaids?"

"Well… I remembered you keep band-aids in your phone case. And the nurse hates me."

You giggle.

Yujin mouths from behind Sungchan, “He just wanted to see her.”

You would feel flattered if you didn't know these people and their shenanigans. They'd do anything for some drama (and to get two innocent people into the dating trap).

“Why would I waste my cute band aids on you?” you mutter under your breath. “They’re limited edition, you know?”

No way are you sticking Ice Bear on your urban hazard of a best friend. A tall, cute, surprisingly polite hazard but he still annoys you nonetheless.

However, Sungchan's pleading smile has grown on you.

You reluctantly take the band-aid out of your clear phone case, the pink panda doll attached to it swaying with the movement. Proceeding, you take Sungchan's hand and lay it on your desk. With careful focus, you place the band-aid, admiring the size difference of your hands before snapping to reality.

Enough with the pink cloud of thoughts, you scold yourself.

When you look up, the proximity makes your heart skip a beat despite the logical part of you saying you shouldn't. Your faces are too close and this time, you don't even have the energy to croak it out.

"Thanks, (name)," Sungchan smiles at you.

Right then, the sound of a chair sliding harshly against the floor makes the two of you jolt away from each other. All of your friends and his friends seem to be sporting Cheshire cat grins and you don't like it one bit. You don't like not being in on the gag.

"Anybody up for gaming after this? My treat." Chenle looks around. “Sungchan is banned from the arcade soccer game though.”

"'Ey," Sungchan complains.

"Hey, Jisung and Ryujin are banned from DDR too but that's because they almost broke the handles off last time."

The memory makes you smile. Sungchan was there too, and you don’t know why you’re only just recalling all the memories with him in it, carefully and in detail. Every one of them seems to have been amplified, the little interactions suddenly coming to mind.

“(name)? You’re coming?”

You take one look at Sungchan and give up. Even if this is another childish ploy by your peers, you don't mind spending some more time at the arcade with infuriatingly addictive games. A tiny part of you is even willing to go along with them and see if it turns out the way they want it to.

“I’ll go,” you mumble, and the rest of the group cheers.

“But I have cleaning duty today.”

The group groans.

“Just get someone else to do it. Like a junior.”

“Isn’t that bullying?” You ask, frowning.

“Ask nicely. Anyone would be willing to do your bidding, (name).”

“Chenle, will you do it?” You give him a sickly sweet smile. “You’re class president after all.”

Chenle wrinkles his nose. “You’re getting stupider every day, (name).”

You sigh. “Fine. I’ll ask one of Yuna’s classmates then.”

“By the way,” Chenle announces. “Only twelfth graders are invited—”

A bunch of groans interrupt him.

“Quit whining.” He crosses his arms, glaring at them. “What do you even have to worry about? We’re preparing for the exam of our lives. Oh, and Jisung is an exception.”

“We’re only two years apart,” Yuna mutters under her breath.

“Oh, and from class 5, only Sungchan is invited.”

Another round of complaints pass and Chenle breaks into laughter. “Just kidding.”

Your friends are and will always be an odd bunch. Sungchan has previously proved to be the weirdest (several times) and it makes him the most lovable too. But then again, you don’t have free space in your timetable to put in teenage crushes, much less falling for your best friend. What you do have time for this afternoon, however, is relaxing at the arcade.

“Let’s go! I am so good at this. Think I’d impress your Steve Curry?” Ryujun gloats, after having scored three hoops in a row at the arcade basketball game.

“It’s Stephen Curry,” Chenle corrects. “And no, let’s focus here. Our goals are—”

He points to the two figures by the DDR machine, looking like a real couple. He’s been acting as damage control for the rumours and making sure you don’t drift apart because of it. They really don’t make guys like him anymore, Chenle sighs. He should get a friendship award or something.

“—those two.”

Really, Sungchan better be thanking him by the end of this. He’s never met anyone quite like Jung Sungchan, especially because Chenle cannot picture himself liking the same person since elementary school.

“Man, now I wish I had a girlfriend,” Chenle mutters.

Ryujin snorts. “Who’s going to date you?”

“You don’t have a boyfriend either,” Chenle reminds and gets a basketball to the shoulder.

“Why are you playing that when you don’t even know how to use it?” Your voice rings through to them.

“I said I’ll figure it out!” Sungchan reasons.

Chenle and Ryujin stare at the two of you blankly, as you bicker over a claw machine game and they share a look.

“Do they need our help?” Ryujin whispers.

Chenle shakes his head. “I think they’ll figure it out from here.”

Soon enough, you were laughing at Sungchan’s failed attempts and trying to outplay him. Your friends have already given you the shove. Chenle and Ryujin share a high five and that’s where the new story begins.

You finally know the thrill of a teenage crush. It makes you so damn infuriated that it had to be Jung Sungchan.

Now every time he waves at you from the field or hands you a bottle of strawberry milk or explains the calc notes you missed or does the bare minimum, you need to deal with the quickening of your pulse and a few butterflies loose from their cage in your stomach. It doesn’t help that you’re almost always together.

The two of you currently sit by the school field, Sungchan tying his shoelaces while you cool off with the water bottle he offered you. Practice ended a while ago for you and the girls have receded into the air conditioned indoor gym. The indoor gym is apparently occupied by the gymnast club and you couldn’t be more disappointed that you didn’t join them instead.

If anything, however, you’d rather leave this whole thing and focus on your academics. Hobbies shouldn’t be draining you—they should feel like skateboarding on a lilac evening with the wind in your hair.

With a friend you like very, very much.

“Sungchan,” you call quietly.

“Hm?”

When he looks up, you can’t hold in the urge to fix the hair out of his eyes. You’ve never been very physically affectionate so it might have come off strange. Sungchan looks at you quietly, stars in his eyes and you clear your throat.

“How long have you been playing soccer? It was before we met, right?”

He hums, eyes traveling up and then back to you when he remembers. “Since I was six. You were there at my first soccer match actually.”

“I was? Oh my god, was it the one you lost horribly and the whole team started crying?”

“Yes. Yes, it was.”

You giggle. “Six year old you would be so in awe now.”

Sungchan beams at that.

“Who knows?” he smiles, looking into your eyes with firm determination. “Maybe I’ll be the next Son Heungmin.”

“Even I know who that is so… no.”

Sungchan pouts and you make a face in disgust. “Don’t act cute, it gives me hives.”

“Okay, maybe not Son Heungmin. I could definitely be the next Park Jisung—and I don’t mean him.”

Sungchan points to a boy passed out on the benches, his exhaustion typical of any high schooler while another boy sits beside him, fanning him with a bunch of assignment papers. Jisung and Chenle really are more entertaining than any game on this field.

You turn to look at Sungchan, who’s moving his head around trying to catch their attention. When he finally does, he waves at them and gets big grins in response. He’s not all that bad, you think. In fact, he’s quite possibly the most amiable boy in senior year.

“Just be Jung Sungchan,” you mutter. “Not Son Heungmin or Park Jisung.”

Sungchan turns to you, smiling wide. “Advice taken.”

You scoff. “Whatever.”

Maybe it’s just you but Sungchan has been glancing at your lips very frequently today and mentally thank Chaeryoung for letting you borrow her lip tint. You didn’t know something so subtle could get you this giddy.

“Are you… going to give the CSAT?” You ask, glancing at him nervously. Part of you is sad you only developed your first high school crush in the very last semester. Or if it’s comforting, you could believe you’ve liked him all this time.

“Nah. Sports scholarship,” he says nonchalantly. “I was going to tell you but… I’ve been scouted already.”

You gasp. “That’s… great. Your future’s all settled.”

Sungchan seems to dislike the idea, lips pursing. “I don’t think anything’s settled except for the next step.”

You nod, somewhat understanding.

“What about you?” He asks. “Any university in mind? SKY? I’ve seen you study extra hours at the library.”

You look away, not feeling ready for the conversation.

“I don’t know,” you say quietly. “I don’t know what I like and what I want. I don’t even like cheer anymore.”

Sungchan gazes at you wordlessly but it’s the most comfortable you’ve felt talking about this.

“Maybe I should quit,” you mumble.

You don’t want to commit to something you no longer have passion for. But then again, you’ve spent so much time on it that it’s hard to leave.

“You should,” he responds, honest.

You scoff, shaking yourself from that moment of vulnerability. “But why would I quit something I’m good at?”

“If you don’t like it. If it hurts to leave but isn’t any better when you stay, you should leave.”

You roll your eyes. “You’re quite the philosopher.”

“I’m smart, right?”

You smile.

“Oy, you two!” Chenle calls, making his way to you two with Jisung trailing behind. “I don’t mean to interrupt your flirting but you got a spare water bottle?”

“Are you two going out now?” Jisung asks as a follow-up, and you feel a hot flush for some reason, unlike the previous times you’ve been asked this question.

“No,” you answer. You don’t mind the idea though now.

“Don’t lie,” Chenle complains. “I saw that picture of Sungchan teaching you how to kick a ball. You? And soccer? Something’s up.”

You throw up your hands in exasperation. “Seriously, who keeps up posting to the school page? And where do they get the time?”

"Two people with this much compatibility will always be a hot topic."

"We're not compatible," you retort quickly.

"Wait," Jisung says. "I know how to resolve this."

You raise an eyebrow.

"How do you have your cereal?" He asks, looking from you to Sungchan.

"Cereal first, obviously," you answer.

Sungchan looks up, finger below his chin as he thinks. "I drink the milk first, then eat the cereal and then breakdance to mix it all together."

You pinch your nose. "I swear I question your sanity all the time."

"Hah! That means you're thinking about me all the time."

You look away, rolling your eyes. He responds with an open-mouthed smile and finger guns.

"See?" Jisung grins. "Compatible."

The gruff voice of Coach Lee startles the four of you and Sungchan leaves with a sigh and a promise of meeting after practice. Jisung leaves with Sungchan and Chenle gives you one last teasing smirk before sitting down and going through the assignment papers he was using as a fan previously. You will never understand his miraculous ways of performing his presidential duties.

You don’t have a good feeling about the next match. The only reason you’re even sticking around anymore—as embarrassing as it—is to spend more time with Sungchan. Being with him puts you at ease, even if the school tries to wrap the two of you in a rope of uneasiness. This is your very last practice, for the next match is the final one of this year and then you’ll be back to spending even longer hours at the library with a stack of textbooks. It’s supposed to be a carefree age. At least, adults say that. Your high school life seems to be riddled with worries, and with that thought, you head into the air conditioned room to take a breather off your anxieties.

Only one more match, you remind yourself.

The pre-match buzz is driving you to the edge.

Your form is off, you can feel it already and Coach Kim isn’t as sunshine-as-rainbows as she usually is, courtesy to it being the last match of your life. She’ll never know though, how much you don’t want to do this.

Sungchan waves at you as he usually does before a match, disappointing a third of his fangirls, but it helps you ease. One last time, (name).

Watching the crowd of people, parents and siblings and friends, all excited and talking makes you take a deep breath. You practiced but it wasn’t good enough. You can never do well at something you don’t like anymore. This time, you feel guilty for committing to things half-heartedly. You want to start that fresh new college chapter already, with all of this behind.

There’s ten minutes left. You go back to the empty hall outside the lockers only to pace. This isn’t helping.

“(name)!”

You turn around abruptly to find Sungchan’s tall figure, and you must be looking miserable because his smile falls.

He doesn’t even ask what’s wrong, only takes careful steps towards you. “Do you need water? Medicine?”

His hands hover over your shoulder but he doesn’t burden you with them. You put your face in your palms and sigh, sinking down to the floor in a crouch.

“I want to quit,” you whisper. Your voice comes off more brittle than you’d like, and you realize that Sungchan hasn’t seen you cry since seventh grade when you failed a math test. You didn’t tell him then but you appreciated him studying extra hours for math just to teach you.

“You don’t have to go out there if you don’t want to,” he says quietly, dropping to the floor beside you. “I’ll stay with you.”

You stare at him dumbfounded. “Don’t be ridiculous! They’ll lose without you—you’re the ace, Sungchan!”

“There will always be an ace,” he retorts. “Maybe Jisung will finally get to shine. Or anyone else. I don’t mind spending an hour with you alone.”

You feel a hot flush spread over your cheeks. Looking away to the side, you mumble an ‘alright’ and only glance from the corner of your eye to see him smiling. Jung Sungchan is the most unreasonable boy you’ve ever met. Perhaps it makes him somewhat loveable too.

“It’s your last match,” you whisper helplessly.

“I’ll join the college soccer club and get to play more matches.”

You sigh, giving in. If he’s so adamant, you think that perhaps there is something in you worth sacrificing his game over. It makes an oddly warm feeling bloom in your chest. Sungchan is so damn convincing with his words. You wonder if it’s really okay.

With shoulders touching, an awkward silence takes over in the next second. You turn to him and open your mouth, watch him do the same and close it at the same time he does.

“You know,” he begins, “I was kind of lying about not worrying because I get the feeling coach will evaporate me tomorrow but—I can handle it. Mostly.”

You stare at him with wide, worried eyes. “You don’t have to do this, Sungchan. I’m the one running away.”

You slouch, pulling your knees closer to your chest and burying your face in them. The urge to scream is boiling within you but you can’t get caught. Not now.

“Sometimes to run is the brave thing,” he responds, insightful. “If you’re not up for it, it’s better to quit early than to regret it in the long run.”

You don’t know if it’s the fact that he just quoted Taylor Swift or spoke like your old school counselor—but you find yourself laughing. He makes sense. Sungchan, in his weird, oddball ways, always makes sense. And in that same way, he feels like home.

“You’re so good to me,” you say, looking up at him and at a proximity you’ve never been before.

It’s his turn to fluster, though he doesn’t do so as visibly as you do. He clears his throat, shifting his eyes around before meeting yours. “I- This is bad timing but… I like you. I really do. Since third grade when you drew that birthday card for me. I have it in my bedside drawer, by the way.”

He looks away and makes a face, probably wondering why he said that out loud.

You press your lips tight to prevent the smile that tugs at them. He looks at you with a wobbly smile, trying his hardest to resume his usual dignity—but he’s just a boy, after all.

“My type is dumb and pretty, though?” You tease, the smile escaping. “You said it yourself.”

He blinks. “Well, I am pretty but if you want me to be stu—”

You shake your head. “I like you too. You don’t have to act cute.”

He pauses, thinking. “I have never acted cute in my life ever. I was born cu—”

You hold his face between your thumb and forefinger. “You do that again and you die.”

He breaks into a smile.

“I’ve never met someone quite like you,” you whisper, embarrassed of your own feelings bubbling up from the bottle you had kept them in.

He laughs, open-mouthed and pretty.

“Actually, hey, I didn’t like you all this time from fifth. I liked you and then I didn’t like you and then I liked you again—”

“Okay, I get it.”

His shoulders relax and he smiles at you. You look up at the clock on the wall by the entrance to the field and bite your lip. You don’t love performing anymore but you know all the girls do, even the stand-bys. Jisung might not have to take over Sungchan’s position but you bet one of those tenth graders would love to take yours, the same way you did back then. They’ve practiced harder than you too and it’s only a matter of deserving.

You take a deep breath and get up, pulling up Sungchan by the hand. He raises an eyebrow, inquisitive eyes scanning over your face and you smile at him, strengthening your resolve. You should have done this way sooner.

Sungchan plays. You don’t let him sit it out with you.

Halfway through, you cheer the hardest you ever have, plastic decorative gemstones stuck by your eyes borrowed from the other girls cheering. It’s much more fun, you think. You’ve never experienced soccer like this. You’d love to sit at stadiums and join in victory chants. There’s enough weight off your chest to yell your lungs out.

Sungchan scores a goal almost immediately after and sends a thumbs up over to you. You laugh. This is the best break you’ve ever taken from cheerleading.

“Ooh, is this perhaps the (name) effect?” Chenle’s voice rings through the speakers and you feel yourself shrink slightly under the eyes. Out of the corner of your eye, you can see your homeroom teacher signal very angrily to the commentator box. You shake yourself off it. So what if everyone’s looking?

Sungchan places his hands on his hips, chest heaving and sends another signal to you before beelining for a straight goal. You whoop and the girl with a notebook beside you is visibly annoyed at this point but you don’t care.

Without doubt, your school wins and you watch as Sungchan runs to his team, a big smile on his face. The second he’s done getting pet by the team, however, he rushes to the bleachers, skipping over the steps to you, panting when he stops. The risk he took was definitely not calculated. He holds up one finger while he heaves.

“My cheering worked best this time, it seems,” you say to him, laughing.

His face is flushed from the exertion but he laughs heartily. “You could be yelling profanity at me and it’d still encourage me.”

You shake your head at the cheesy line. He takes a step forward, well inside your space but you don’t mind. He leans in.

“Everyone is looking at us,” he says under his breath. “Is that a good or a bad thing?”

You look behind him to find the whole team, along with your girls sharing furtive glances and giggling at the sight of the two of you. A few of the junior girls slap each other’s arms, bouncing on the balls of their feet in excitement. You’re not a celebrity. But everyone wants to cheer things on once in a while, don’t they?

“Good,” you answer, before pulling him by the shirt into a chaste kiss. When you pull apart, Sungchan’s face is so struck with awe that you want to look away but instead you bite back an obvious smile. It’s about damn time, someone from the soccer team yells.

“Woah. I think I scored a goal either way,” he says, an offbeat smile on his face.

“Oh come on, we didn’t even get to chant ‘Kiss! Kiss! Kiss!’ yet—oh shit, the mic’s on.”

Chenle is definitely getting an earful from your teacher after this. The two of you wave at him at the box and end up laughing at him trying to hide behind the desk.

As expected, the whole crowd surrounds the two of you in less than a minute’s worth of time, with several congratulations and “good score” offered to the two of you. The boys mess up Sungchan’s hair while the girls compliment you on how cute a couple you are. There’s also the question of when you started dating that pauses the buzz and makes everyone look to the two of you for an answer. Sungchan turns to you and you turn to him, and there’s no way you’ll tell half the school that your confession came in a private hallway outside the field—teenage imaginations run wild.

Instead, you slip your hand into Sungchan’s and run down the bleachers and towards the exit, laughter spilling from your lips. There’s only one place you can think of going to spend a cool blue late afternoon with.

“Skate plaza?” He asks.

“Skate plaza,” you answer.

#cznnet #neowritingsnet #nct x reader #sungchan x reader #nct fluff #sungchan fluff #nct imagines #nct scenarios #sungchan imagines #sungchan scenarios #nct x you #sungchan x you #nct sungchan #jung sungchan #nct oneshot #sungchan oneshot #nct fanfic #sungchan fanfic #moonwrites

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shurisneakers · 4 years ago

Note

if you're taking ideas for harmless drabbles, i'd love to see one of bucky on one of those dates he mentioned and reader's shenanigans. if you aren't, feel free to ignore this!

a/n: are we really going to let a word limit define what a drabble is? is the vibe and spirit not enough? i say this bc this is 5.7k words long im so sorry. also hey thank you to everyone who piped in with their knowledge of violent geese and how apartment security works in new york!! also thanks to my bby @spiderrpcrker for reading this and telling me to publish this bc i wasnt going to fkjghfkj

warning: swearing, bad luck, dates, frustrated bucky, anxiety, mentions of gore but like only a sentence

here’s my ko-fi if you’d like to support my writing <333

Catch up with the rest of the series here: Harmless Masterlist

Bucky returns only two weeks later. His mission lasted longer than expected and all he wants is to lie down and sleep for forty eight hours straight.

“FRIDAY?” he mumbles, kicking off his shoes. His jacket had already been discarded by his bedroom door when he walked in.

“Yes, Sergeant Barnes?”

“How are ya?” He doesn’t miss a beat in asking, even though he’s exhausted.

“As good as ever. Did you have a successful mission?”

“If by successful you mean one sprained limb instead of two, then yeah.” He wasn’t really cribbing. His ankle was already starting to heal anyway and it was worth the roundhouse kick to a Nazi's face. “Do I have anything scheduled for this weekend?”

“You have a meeting on your calendar scheduled for this Saturday.”

“Could you send a text to Y/N and ask if we can push it to the next day?” His muscles feel sore and God, he could definitely use a hot shower but all of that becomes secondary the minute he feels the sheets under him.

“Would you like me to reschedule the other one as well?”

“What’s that?” He opens one eye in confusion. “There’s another one?”

“It’s on Sunday. You’ve labelled it ‘date’.”

Ah, fuck.

“Would you like me to change it?” FRIDAY never sounds like she’s judging him, which is nice. It also reminds him about how she, as an AI, can’t judge him, which is a rude wake-up call to how he doesn’t have friends.

“No,” his voice is muffled against the pillow, “no, let it be. Where is it again?”

“You’ve only specified diner, Sergeant Barnes.”

Public space, daytime, plenty of escape routes. Good on his less delirious self for selecting a diner.

“Thanks, FRIDAY.” Now that he’s a little more relaxed, he can feel himself slip in and out of consciousness.

“One last thing," her automated voice commands his attention again. "Y/N replied. She says sure and to take care.”

“Yay.” Not even a second later he’s out like a light.

____

“Did you bring me any souvenirs?” Is the first thing he hears as he marches into your lair.

“What could I possibly get you?”

“A postcard, a t-shirt.” You don’t look up from your tinkering.

“Decapitated finger, used bullets,” he continues, “cement blocks.”

“Ew.” You snap the lid shut on the thing you’re working on, spinning around on your chair. "That's not nearly romantic enough."

“That’s all you’re going to get from a Russian underground bunker.” He does a mini jog up the stairs of the platform to where you are.

“Does the finger have a ring at lea- oh hello?” You raise an eyebrow at the sight of him. “You look different.”

He peers down. The outfit was still all black. As always.

“Not your clothes, dummy,” you interrupt, making him look back at you. “Your face. What’d you do?”

He unconsciously raises a hand to his cheek.

“Did you wash your face? Is that it?” you squint at him. “Has it been a few months since the last time?”

“Wow, you’re so funny,” he drawls sarcastically. “Top tier comedian right there.”

“No wait, it’s the beard.” You snap your fingers in realisation, completely ignoring his comment. “You trimmed it.”

“So what if I did?” He leans on your table.

“You going somewhere?” you ask, elastic snapping against your hands as you remove your gloves.

“It’s none of your busi-”

“Hold on a second.” A sly smile begins to make its way onto your face. “Are you going on a date, Bucky Barnes?”

His comeback dies down in his throat. That didn’t take you very long for you to figure out.

“I’m right, aren’t I?” You look smug, to say the least.

“Shut up.” A ray of light glistening distracts him. He traces it to the thing you were working on earlier.

“Where are you guys going?” You cross your arm across your chest, a small smirk on your face.

“Wouldn’t you like to know?” It’s a silver box, engraved intricately with swirls that, when he observes carefully, looks like a skull. Wow, terrifying.

“I’m literally asking you.”

“What are those?” He shifts the conversation towards a more productive angle instead.

“Evil in a box and some other stuff.” You shrug offhandedly. “Is it a lunch date or just coffee?”

“Like Pandora’s Box?”

“A discount version, sure,” you confirmed impatiently. “Stop changing the topic, listen to me.”

He tilts his head, waiting for you to continue.

“Do you need a chaperone?” The sincerity in your voice for such a bullshit question has him scoffing.

“Good God- no, I do not need a chaperone. I’m 106 years old, I can go out unsupervised.” He reaches over and plucks the box off your table.

“Sir, you’re a geriatric."

“What are those?” He points to a few ray odd ray guns.

“Minor stuff you don’t have to worry about right now.”

He shakes the box in his hand. “What’s gonna happen if I open this?”

“Very bad things,” you whispered ominously before your volume returns to normal. “How’d you meet this person? Online?”

“She’s Natasha’s friend.” He turns the box over, seeing a small latch at the side. “What bad things?”

“Bad luck and misery. Don’t play with it, it’s dangerous.” You pull the box away from him. “Aw, is it a blind date?”

“Why do you care so much?” he shoots back, tugging the box back towards him.

“Just lookin’ out for you, Bucko,” you huff, adjusting your grip on your device. “Need to keep my favourite senior citizen safe.”

“I have a vibranium arm.” Whose force he could use to grab the box once and for all, but wasn’t. “I think I’ll be fine.”

“What if she has one too, huh? Then what?”

“She doesn’t.” As far as he knows, he’s the only one alive with a metal appendage made out of the strongest metal in the world. That could very well change by tomorrow but he's keeping the title for now.

“But what if she does? I swear to- stop trying to take the box!” You pull a little more forcefully, but he doesn’t relent.

“I want this to get over before this evening.”

“What time’s your date?”

“Why do you care?” He’s sure anyone who saw the dumb tug-of-war you both were playing would just automatically assume he was an absolute manchild, not an Avenger.

“Because.” You don’t explain further. “Tell me what time your date is, you weirdo.”

“Five o’clock, now let go.”

“Fine,” you say, suddenly loosening your grip. Clearly, it doesn't make much of a difference since he isn't struggling to keep his balance from the sudden loss of force.

“Fine.” He clears his throat, straightening up.

You don’t say anything. He doesn’t either.

A putrid smell creeps into his nose, one all too similar to spoiled milk and decaying seaweed. He has to physically stop himself from gagging.

“Have a good day.” You smile and lean far back. Too far. It looks like you're almost going to fall out of the chair.

Through the tears that are threatening to line his eyelids, he looks down at the box whose latch you somehow managed to lift, leaving the box open.

“What the fuck is this?” He coughs, swatting at the air in front of him to clear it.

“I told you; bad luck in a box.”

“You can’t scientifically create bad luck, that’s bullshit.” He tosses the box back onto your table. You watch it slide past you, not making any effort to stop it. “What is it really?”

“I’m not lying.” You pull open a drawer, brandishing a small table fan that you set down beside you. “If you open it, you’re going to have terrible luck for the day.”

He glowers at you when you turn the fan on, forcing the fumes back towards him.

“Besides, that’s all I was doing today.” You kick your feet up. “So you can leave now.”

He doesn’t care if you’re lying about not having anything else to do today. You could burn down the world if you wanted to but he needs to take a stupid shower. Again.

“You’re the fuckin’ worst.” He tries airing out his shirt, hoping that the smell would dissipate as soon as possible.

“Have fun on your date, sarge!” you encourage him as he stalks out of the lair. “Remember to wrap it befo-”

He turns it into a sprint before you can finish.

____

Six hours later and he’s absolutely convinced he fucked up.

He isn’t used to having his weekends free.

He realises that this is the first time in months that he’s actually stepped out of the Tower for something that wasn’t directly mission-related. He should probably get some air. Touch some grass. See the sun.

His shirt thankfully manages to rid itself of the odour from the dumb box so he didn’t have to go take a shower. With nothing much planned and a few hours to spare, he heads to the coffee shop instead.

It’s a small place, bustling and alive with a crowd of people. They have a little bookshelf that usually is full of books donated by patrons, free for anyone to read.

The barista smiles at him. The coffee costs more than his high school education. He awkwardly smiles back.

He’s not a regular, but they’ve seen him enough times to know that he usually asks for black coffee in a to-go cup, later adding a sugar or two according to his own taste. They're nice to him, occasionally throwing in a cookie or something on the house. He can't tell if it's because of the Avenger status or the sizeable tip he leaves.

He picks up a random book from the shelf, fully intending not to read it but to just sit there and think. The book acted as a shield for his resting bitch face, resting murder face and his resting rage face. More often than not, a good combination of the three.

He sets the coffee down at the corner table he manages to nab in a quick second, along with the two sachets of sugar.

“Is this seat taken?” Someone asks from beside him. He earnestly shakes his head in a ‘no’, gesturing for them to take it.

They give him a quick thanks and drag the chair away from his table.

He does a quick overlook of the book he picked up.

The Princess Diaries by Meg Cabot.

Well, now he’s too anxious to put it back. YA fiction it is.

He reaches for the sugar while glossing over the summary. He reaches a little further when it doesn’t come to his hand immediately, blindly running his fingers across the table.

Bucky peeks over the book, eyebrows knitting together when he notices that they’re missing.

He was sure he picked it up.

He looks underneath the table. It wasn’t there, neither under his seat. Strange, but okay. He picks up the book and the cup, walking back to the station to grab two sugars.

This time he makes sure to tuck it into his pocket, double-checking before going back to his table.

Which was now occupied. He wanted to groan.

His mind automatically reverts back to the box from that morning.

“Come on,” he scoffs quietly to himself. It was a coincidence. “Get yourself together.”

“A seat at the counter just cleared up,” the barista from earlier offers when she sees him standing in the middle of the store.

See? Good luck.

He shoots her a grateful look, venturing over to the barstool to take his place. It’s not the most comfortable, but then again, he wasn’t planning to stay there for very long.

He empties the sugar into the coffee, stirring slowly before opening a random page in the book.

He takes a long sip, ignoring how hot the drink was.

He chokes immediately. Because either he was losing his mind or his order had somehow got switched from ‘no sugar’ to ‘diabetes in a cup’.

He takes another small sip and his face immediately twists in disgust. Definitely too sweet. The sweetener he added only made it worse.

He catches the eye of the barista. She looks on in concern.

“Is everything okay?”

Fuck.

He’s not one to make a scene. He just wants to live as imperceptibly as he could.

“Yep.” The sweetness sticks to the back of his throat. “All good.”

He just closes his eyes and downs the rest of it without thinking twice, trying to hide the grimace in his face. He gives her a weak thumbs up. She doesn't look convinced.

He leaves the shop soon after, hands shoved in his pocket. Maybe he could go sit by the lake at Central Park, watch the clouds. It reminded Bucky of the lake in front of his hut in Wakanda and the hours he'd sit in front of it, feet dipped into the water as his goats fed. He misses it.

He makes a sharp turn at a corner, still thinking about his options when his ankle abruptly twists under him.

He stumbles rather ungracefully, almost hitting the ground, but manages to save himself through the newly built up immunity he has towards falling thanks to all his encounters with you.

His gaze lands on his hardcore combat boots. Their laces had come undone.

Now he just knew that was horseshit. He always double knots them; they had never loosened in the past before.

The box.

He shoves the thought out of his head, crouching down to tie them again. He tugs on them to make sure they’re secure before standing up again.

Central Park is a few blocks away but he’s glad he didn’t bring his bike. The weather was rather nice and the wind in his hair felt good.

He wanders around the park for a while, looking for the lake. He pauses at a board with a map of the park on it, assessing how far it was.

Once he's ascertained which path to go towards, he turns on his heel to go.

He fucking trips again.

“Are you serious?” he says furiously under his breath. “Cut it out.”

He’s half-convinced that he should tie it around his ankle like a sexy lace-up set of heels. He ties a triple knot this time, glares at it until he’s sure it’s fine and checks to see if anyone saw him humiliate himself.

Only a person on a nearby bench who looked like they were passed out drunk, given that their hoodie and sunglasses clad self was slumped over.

No witnesses. No 'You won't BELIEVE what the Winter Soldier did! Critics say it's his biggest blunder yet!' articles the next day on social media.

He manages to make it to the lake in one piece and no more falls, partly because he keeps his eyes fixed on his shoes to ensure no fuckery occurs.

There are a few people rowing and plenty of others lining the bank at scattered locations. There’s a mom and her kid at the place he ends up. She sends him a small smile in greeting and he returns the favour.

There’s a secluded bench that he takes a place on, letting out a small sigh. If he ignores the traffic and the skateboarders and the people in general, it’s actually kind of peaceful.

There are geese and their little goslings swimming around the water close to the shore. Maybe he should have brought some birdseed. Or kale.

The kid beside him is busy fashioning something out of leaves, only occasionally erupting into giggles when it doesn't pan out. His mom watches him fondly, pointing at twigs he could use. Everything seems kind of picture-perfect and his body automatically relaxes, easing further into the seat and closing his eyes for a second.

Until there's a large splash and loud distressed honking. He whips his head around to find the same kid staring straight ahead at the goose with a wide grin. His mother curses quietly, picking herself up off the ground and grabbing his hand, half chastising him for throwing something at an animal and half urging him to walk faster.

The goose turns to Bucky. With no one else to blame for the sudden attack, it logically launches itself at him. His smile drops.

He gets up in a rush. The dumb bird nearly comes for his head, but he deflects with his metal arm.

“I didn’t even do anything.” He swats at it swiftly, trying not to cause any real damage. The goose, understandably, does not speak English.

He flinches when one of them bites at his knee. He can punt it to the sun but he doesn’t want to.

“Stop that.” He sticks his hand out to shove the stupid thing away, retreating back to the road. “Jesus, why are you so aggressive?”

Among the barrage of feathers showering on him, he prays his damn shoelace doesn’t unravel as he shields his head with one arm, the other fending himself while he moves hurriedly away.

The goose honks angrily at him. He scowls at it, not exactly pleased with the reminder that these fucking overgrown ducks were constantly bloodthirsty.

It doesn’t leave him alone till he’s significantly away from where he was sitting. He wants to call it profanity but that’d probably piss it off more.

The box and its effects were definitely starting to feel real.

Fuck it, no more day out for him. The best plan he can think of is to just go to the diner he’s supposed to meet his date at.

The waiter greets him with a courteous nod, which Bucky can only imagine was the best he could muster when a dishevelled 200-pound man walks in covered in goose feathers and irritation.

He won't admit that he’s too scared to eat lunch at this point because he can’t rule out food poisoning. He spends the next two hours on his phone playing Fruit Ninja and plucking feathers that accented his all-black outfit.

Several glasses of water later and a second before he’s about to beat his high score, someone taps on his shoulder, breaking him out of his concentration.

Motherfu-

He clenches his eye shut, inhaling deeply before turning around.

“James?”

“Hey, yeah, that’s me.” Bucky almost falls over the table with how fast he stands up, clearly underestimating his size. “Leah?”

“Hi.” She smiles and he finds himself smiling nervously along with her.

“Hi.” He steps out to pull out her chair for her and she laughs. "Nice to meet you."

“How long have you been waiting here?” she asks while setting down her bag.

“Around ten minutes.” He clears his throat to hopefully hide the fact that he was lying through his teeth.

“Just give me a second, I need to tell my friend I reached,” Leah pulls out her phone and he nods.

“Another glass of water for you?” The waiter seems less enthusiastic about Bucky’s 8th refill.

“Yes,” he answers, hoping he doesn’t call him out on it, “please.”

“You must be really dehydrated."

Bucky turns to look at him slowly. “I like the taste.”

He can’t really blame the guy. Bucky’s been there for hours without ordering anything solid, just leaching off their free water and complimentary bread basket.

“So, James.” She tosses her phone back into her bag, leaning forward on her palms easily. “Tell me about yourself.”

He had rehearsed this a million times. He could do this.

“I, uh,-”

“Menu?” Okay, so someone clearly had a vendetta against him.

“Thank you.” She takes it with a smile.

His morning debacle with the coffee flashes through his mind. Suddenly the idea of a diner didn’t seem so smart.

However, she’s already placed her order and George is standing beside him expectantly, daring him to ask for another glass of water, so he places his usual order and hopes that your stupid bad luck thing wore off.

He quickly learns that his date is laid back, and it isn’t hard to fall into a rhythm with her even though she’s the one asking most of the questions.

“How’d you meet Nat?” Is his attempt at one.

“She used to come in for lunch every week at the place I work.” Leah leans back in her chair. “She can really handle her alcohol.”

He’d be worried about Nat day drinking if he didn’t know about her complete inability to get drunk. She might as well have been downing glasses of lemonade.

“Yeah, she’s-” Intimidating, scary, cool “-really something.”

“She mentioned that you like movies.” He definitely spends a lot of time watching them. “You got any recommendations?”

It’s easier to figure out how different things are or how much he missed out over the years through them. He’s glad he sat out the early 2000s, judging by their fashion sense and hairstyles.

He's watched several movies over the past few months, a few of them critically acclaimed and others who were just there for the cult following.

But now everything goes blank and the only thing that he can remember are the biopics made about Steve that were somehow hilarious for gifting him the mental image of Freddie Prinze Jr. dressed in the stars and stripes, and highly distressing for the number of historical inaccuracies. Contrary to popular belief, Stevie did not, in fact, consider running for president after he took up the shield, nor did he start his own bar chain.

He can’t name Oh Captain, My Captain starring Channing Tatum as his favourite movie on his first date and hope to make a good first impression.

“Despicable Me was kinda fun.” He wants to kill himself. “I mean, it’s the last one I saw.”

Her face twists in mild disgust, but he can tell it isn't ill-intentioned. “It's a good movie, but God, that just gave me some intense flashbacks to my aunt’s Facebook page. Don’t think I can look at a minion ever again.”

He sniggers with her. He doesn’t know what the context is.

He’s a little awkward, and he can definitely tell he isn’t the most open book but she laughs at some of his attempts at jokes. There’s a distinct discomfort he has lingering at the back of his mind prodding at him, telling him over and over again that he isn’t ready for something like this. A warning bell, asking him to leave as soon as possible because he was in a dangerous situation.

He remembers what his therapist told him about breathing and remembering that the resources he had available were greater than his anxiety and he tries to get out of his head. It takes a few minutes of acting like he's fine but he manages to do it.

Other than the one time he scalds his tongue on the coffee but played it off with a pained smile, shoving down thoughts of your stupid invention, things actually went okay.

It was nice, even though they decided by the end that it was better if they both gelled together better as friends. It lifts the strange fear he feels and he can hear Dr. Mendoza say she's proud of him for taking this step before spending three hours psychoanalysing why they decided to stay platonic.

Bucky promises to visit her sushi shop with Nat soon and she says a bottle of sake awaits him for a drinking game. He doesn’t have the heart to tell her that Nat and he share the same tolerance for alcohol.

He makes sure to leave George a tip. A big one. It’s the first time he sees the guy smile the entire evening.

He’s waving goodbye to Leah outside and he thinks that maybe it was a good end to the day and that things actually turned out fine.

Until he turns around to leave, only to have someone walk straight into him with an iced tea.

The cold comes as a bit of a shock, making him jump slightly. He stares at his shirt, using his fingertips to pull it away from his body.

The person melts into a series of apologies immediately, offering to dry clean his shirt but Bucky just forces a shake of his head and says it’s okay even though he can feel the sugar making the shirt stick to his chest. Goose feathers and iced tea. Was there anything else that would like to attach itself to him?

His fists clench and his teeth grit and he has to physically control himself from sprinting to your lair because God knows what else is in store for him and he didn't want to add in any way.

The door to the lair is locked. Fuckin’ brilliant.

When no one answers after minutes worth of waiting, he fishes for his phone and realises that maybe two hours of Fruit Ninja was not the best idea, especially on a phone known for having shitty battery life.

There’s roughly 2 percent left. By the time he opens his app to give you a call, his phone screen goes black.

He groans. He’s desperate at this point and under any other normal circumstances, he would have never, ever considered doing this.

But ten minutes later he’s outside your apartment building. You’re aware that he has your address; no doubt that it was in the SHIELD file he had gotten, and he knows that you know but it was still weird.

The buzzer has your last name listed next to it. He’s sure that he’ll break it if he keeps pressing it at this rate but he really needs you to let him in.

“Who the fu-” your voice comes through the intercom.

“I’m sorry for showing up like this, my phone died and I couldn’t reach you,” He breathes out as soon as he hears you. “But I need you to fix this.”

When he doesn’t hear a reply, he wonders if the thing actually worked. He’s about to start pressing it again-

“Bucky?” You sound a little surprised to hear him. “You’re at my house. Why are you at my house?”

“I need you to fix whatever this is.”

“What are you- fine, I’m buzzing you in,” your voice, initially confused soon trails off into something more dismissive.

There’s a soft click from the door, allowing him to push it open. The elevator is already on the same floor as him so he just uses that.

The elevator goes up a floor or two. His feet tap restlessly against the carpeted floor.

The lights turn off and everything comes to a standstill. His foot stops tapping.

He should have known. He should have fucking known.

Thirty seconds pass. He’s still in pitch darkness with the elevator showing no signs of moving.

In fact, he’s resigned to his fate. He sits down on the ground, only one step away from completely laying down and hoping someone finds his body here someday.

It’s six minutes of plain silence. He might as well get comfortable if he’s going to get stuck here for the rest of his life. Did he change his will? Does he even have a will?

There’s finally a whir. He thinks that maybe he’s going to plummet to his doom as the perfect end to this day, but then the light switches on and it starts moving upward.

It stops at the floor with a ding. He doesn’t get off the ground, only eyes the door wearily. With his luck, it wouldn’t open.

But it does and within a second he’s on his feet, scrambling to get out before it changes its mind.

He remembers your door number, basically charging down the hall to get to it.

The door is white and the paint is starting to chip off it. The handle itself is dented in a few places and he wonders if it was your fault or someone else's.

His knocks are rapid, agitated even. He doesn’t stop until he hears your loud shouts telling him to cut it out.

“What the hell were you doing, trying to break down my door?” It swings open, revealing you in your pajamas. “Haven’t you done that already? And where were you, I’ve been waiting for like, ten minutes.”

He honestly feels bad for showing up uninvited and highly flustered. He can’t imagine it’s a pretty sight either. "This bad luck shit- fix it. My whole day’s been fucked up.”

“What are you-” Your eyebrows knit together in confusion, taking in his appearance.

It takes you a second to realise what he’s talking about but when you do, your face settles.

“How was your date?” You lean against the door frame, arms crossed over your chest.

“Really,” He glowered at you, “that’s what you care about?”

“Yes.” You nod. “Did you have fun?”

He hesitates. “I guess?”

“Was she nice?”

“Yeah.” Where was this going.

“Good, I’m happy for you.” The smile on your face is genuine. “Look at you go, Casanova.”

“We agreed to be just friends, but that’s not the point here. Y/N,” he whines. “I have a mission next week, I can’t afford to fuck up. My whole day was off and I don’t want it to carry over.”

“Your whole day?” you questioned, standing up instead of leaning against the wall. “Buck-”

“Just fix it.”

“Okay.” You lift your hand up, extending it towards his face.

He waits for you to do something.

You flick him on the forehead.

“There,” you declare, going back to your previous position. “you’re cured.”

What.

He says exactly what he’s thinking.

You laugh. “Dude. I was fucking with you.”

Huh?

“Well, actually maybe just like, three things and then I got bored.”

He’s confused.

“You know,” you begin when he doesn’t reply, “taking the sugar packets, switching your coffee order when you were looking under the table, took your place when you left, the shoelaces.”

“The shoelaces?”

“Yeah.” You nod. “That’s the other ray gun you saw this morning. Unties your shoelaces. I stopped after that because I thought you figured it out.”

His face scrunches in puzzlement.

“I mean, you looked right at me and told me to cut it out.”

He racks his brain about what you could possibly be talking about before it hits him. The hungover person on the goddamn bench in the park.

“You were the one in the hoodie and sunglasses.”

“I just followed the Avengers’ code of disguise.” You shrug. “Turns out it kinda works. Also teleportation. So helpful.”

He forgot about the teleportation. That's why you could do all of it so fast without him noticing you were even there.

“What about the fucking geese?”

You pause for a second. “The geese?”

“And the elevator.”

“What the hell are you talking about?” The confusion on your face is apparent. “What geese and elevator? I have no idea what you’re saying right now.”

“Everything’s been a mess today,” he grumbles. “I don’t know what’s real or not.”

“I swear I had nothing to do with it other than what I mentioned.” There’s indignation on your features that quickly gives way to delight. “Holy shit, did I just accidentally invent portable bad luck?”

“Okay-” his palm finds its way to his forehead in exasperation, “-then what the hell was the smell?”

“What smell- oh, the one from the box?”

He nods briskly.

“Secretions Magnifique.” You snorted. “It’s a perfume. The worst rated one I could find.”

“Perfume?”

“With notes of milk, seaweed and sandalwood.”

“It wasn’t an inator?”

“No, it wasn- did you get vibe checked by a goose at the park?” You stifle a laugh when you notice a stray feather on his thigh.

“What does that even mean?” he asks in despair.

“I can see why it attacked you. You got bad juju.” You raise an eyebrow. “Maybe if you stop staring so much-”

“So I just have shit luck.” Is that a fucking relief or even worse?

“Well,” you begin but decide not to continue.

Even with all the irritability masking it, you could see that he genuinely was just not having a good time.

“Wait here a second.”

You leave him at the door. He shifts his balance and sighs, fingers pinching the bridge of his nose. He still had to walk back to the Tower. Maybe he could grab a slice of pizza along the way since he skipped lunch.

“Okay, here.” You return with a large glass of water. He only looks at it. “It’s just water, I promise. You look like you ran a marathon."

He takes it from you sceptically, pushing away the urge to sniff at it. It’s gone within a few gulps.

You wait until he’s finished to point at his arm. He draws his eyebrows together, but you only curl your index finger and beckon for him to give you his hand.

He reluctantly extends it towards you.

“Don’t laugh,” you warn him, taking his metal arm. “This usually helps me.”

You tie a small bracelet around his wrist. It has a few beads, which he realises represent the colours of the solar system.

“Keep that for good luck.” You pat it gently after securing it. “I think you just had a bad day; those don’t last very long. Do you want to charge your phone before you leave?”

“Uh-” The bracelet’s pretty, the colours shine against the dark vibranium. “-no, I’m good. I’ll just leave.”

“Okay. Anything else I can help you with or will you be fine?”

He narrows his eyes. “You’re being suspiciously nice.”

“I’m not evil all the time.” You huff. “My hours are in the morning.”

“Okay.”

“Okay,” he says again. “I’m gonna go then.”

“See you next week.” You give him a little wave. “I’d say break a leg on your mission but knowing your situation...”

He scoffs. “Thanks.”

You make a move to close the door when starts walking down the hallway towards the exit.

He adjusts the beads slightly so he can see them better. The Earth one has glitter in it. He thinks it’s cute.

“Bucky.”

He turns around.

There’s a hint of a smile on your face.

“Take the stairs.”

He doesn’t have to be told twice.

Next part

#bucky x reader #bucky barnes x reader #mcu fic #bucky fic #bucky barnes fic #bucky fluff #bucky barnes fluff #bucky angst #bucky barnes angst #harmless fic #winter soldier x reader #Winter Soldier #bucky barnes #bucky

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caramelcal · 4 years ago

Text

His Favorite Girl

a/n: HELLO. (sounding like the guy in the cinema cba lol) anyways I have returned for a brief period of time to share this update with you guys. It’s based off of this request here: “ Do you think you could write a Luke x gang again where maybe he has to leave for work during sex and the reader touches herself out of frustration and he comes back and finds her ?”

STOP BECAUSE THIS IS DEFINITELY NOT WHAT THE REQUESTER WANTED BUT ILL WRITE SOMETHING AGAIN BUT LIKE JUST TH REQUEST IF THATS WHAT YOU GUYS WANT SDGHGDFGBH but this is kinda a part 2 to the Bambi/His Favorite Secret series thingy cause a few people wanted that! thank you guys so much for all the love mwah

i should literally be studying rn but im not so <3 im very sorry for this abomination lol

sorry for the long a/n guys! :( enjoy x

word count: 3.4k

warnings: smutty stuff (fucking, fingering, anal and all that...ive never written this before so PLS PLS PLS give me feedback omg) uh choking, doesn’t have a daddy kink in this but sir is mentioned. talks of being tied up and being tied up? talks about overstim... he calls her little girl at one point...

“Luke! Stop moving!” She lightly slapped her boyfriend’s hand, to which he groaned in return. Her tongue stuck out slightly from between her lips in concentration, eyebrows furrowing as she returned to the task she had firmly put her mind to. That was, until the blond giant moved again, “Luke!”

“Bambi,” Luke echoed lightly, using his nickname for the smaller girl in front of him who looked up at him with an unimpressed facial expression.

“You’re gonna ruin it,” She mumbled lightly, pointing back down at her artwork which Luke only then first looked at. It was safe to say, although he shouldn’t have been, he was thoroughly shocked.

His nails, which his girl had somehow managed to convince him into painting weren’t black, or blue. No, they were bright, blasting, hot pink. He groaned lightly, wondering just how exactly she had managed to rope him into this and just how he was going to hide his nails from the rest of the gang later on tonight when he -they- met up with them tonight.

She was a bundle of both nerves and excitement, finally getting to meet Luke’s closest friends. It had been about a week since their argument, and now she was meeting his friends. It seemed like everything was moving in the right direction, thankfully. She couldn’t wait to be honest, very much looking forward to being able to hear more about Luke from his friends, and just meeting them in general.

They seemed fun.

Well, as fun as gang members could be. She probably should have been more cautious surrounding them, but Luke got her guard down so quickly and she was yet to regret that. How scary could they possibly be considering the man in front of her, soft blond curls held back by her bunny bath headband, nails painted hot pink, was supposed to be the scariest man in the whole city.

“Cal’s gonna rip the piss outta me for this, Bambi,” He complained softly, with no plans to take the polish off of his nails as he looked at his girlfriend, between his legs, small hand wrapped around the bottle of nail polish with her other hand laying against his knee.

She couldn’t help the small upturn of her lips as she blew softly against the nail polish on his fingernails, not patient enough to let it airdry despite it being a fast-drying polish. She shrugged lightly, head flopping to the side adorably as Luke stared down at her, resisting the urge to run his hands through her hair; another issue he had with the wet paint on his fingernails.

“I think it looks great, we’re matching,” She then flaunted the bright pink color that coated her own nails, and Luke’s lips twitched into a grin, careful not to ‘aww’ at the cute words that came out of the smaller girl’s mouth.

He hummed lightly, leaning back against the couch but his baby blues never leaving her face, “They look a lot better on you than they do me, Bambi.”

“I think they’re cute,” The girl climbed onto his lap, making Luke take a deep intake of breath as she sits barely an inch away from a rather sensitive area of his. She, however, seemed to pay no attention to the risen area of his jeans as she leaned against his chest, face hidden in the crook of his neck, soft breaths from her mouth fanning against his neck.

He twisted to give her a small kiss on the forehead, to which she responds by kissing his neck softly, lips staying against his neck as her hand traveled up his stomach up to his neck, holding him close as she began to kiss the base of his neck more.

“Lu,” She whispered softly, “How much time have we got?”

“Like an hour, baby. Why?”

However, the girl never replied verbally, and instead repositioned herself carefully, Luke’s neck void from her warmth before her hand started to travel down, painfully slow, until it landed right above the tent in his jeans. His eyes traveled up to meet hers, eyebrow raised as she dropped her hand down barely, lips struggling to pull the smirk away.

He lifted his hands to her back, going to reposition her before she shook her head, “Your nail polish, Lu. Hands down.”

His hands didn’t move, frozen in place around her clothed waist. His nails were long since dried, she knew that, but she liked this. She liked the intake of breath he took when her hand ghosted over the hardened cock in his jeans, the way he couldn’t lift his hands; scared to smudge the pink on his nails.

He was restricted. Oh, how the tables had turned.

Her hand gently palmed against his hardened, clothed cock, causing a grumble to emit from his throat. It was a deep rumbling sound, -something that the girl had heard numerous times but would never get used to.

To her, everything about Luke was perfect, even his moans.

“Bambi, you know the rules about teasing-”

Her lips attached to his, cutting him off rather efficiently, pressing softly as she continued to palm him through his jeans, gently rocking on his thigh. He moaned into their kiss, her tongue, as a reflex, finding its way into his mouth. Their tongues pressed against one another, lips still pressed together as her spare hand crawled up to the back of his neck, playing with his soft curls.

Her palm pressed into his fully hardened cock now, his tongue swiping over her lips before tugging on it, pulling apart, breathless. His hands found a place on her waist, guiding her softly but firmly, taking back the control he craved.

Looking her straight in the eyes, one of Luke’s hands went around her neck, thumb pulling her lower lip down as he unbuckled his belt with one hand, taking his cock out of its confined clothing and bringing her hand down to hold onto it. It wasn’t the first time that she had given him a handjob, and it wouldn’t be the last, but she still couldn’t help but be nervous.

Despite not being a virgin when she met Luke, she still lacked a lot of experience that Luke definitely had. She knew that he would never judge her, but that never stopped the nerves that festered.

“All shy all of a sudden, Bambi?” He mocked, hand around her neck tightening as he bit down on her ear lobe, gently tugging at it before letting out a breath, “All big and brave, teasing Sir, aren’t you? If you’re going to start it, then you’re going to finish it. On your knees. Now.”

Releasing a shaky breath, the girl clambered out of Luke’s lap dropping to the floor, in a similar position to the one she had been in minutes before, only in a more sexual manner. Her lips met the tip of his cock, tongue lightly swiping across the base.

His hand grabbed firmly onto the hair on the back of her head, holding her steady as she got used to the feeling of his cock in her mouth before thrusting against her. She gagged as it hit the back of her throat, sending vibrations up him, releasing a deep moan from his throat.

“Suck, little girl,” Luke commanded deeply, leaving no room for argument as the smaller girl abided to his command, tongue swiping over him as she reached up to cover the last part of his cock with her hand.

Yet, she didn’t get much further when a ringing sounded through the room, Luke groaning but ultimately pulling away from the girl who stayed on the floor, watching Luke as he grabbed his phone.

“What?” He gritted his teeth lightly, trying to keep his frustration at bay after being interrupted.

He sighed softly, not looking at the small girl with furrowed eyebrows still on the floor as he pulled his jeans back up, clambering to get shoes on and getting ready to leave, hanging the phone up.

“Luke what’s going on?”

“Gang shit, Bambi. I gotta get going, be ready for six, we’re meeting Cal, Ash, and Mike later, remember?” He offered her no more words, but she can tell he isn’t angry at her, just due to their interruption.

However, she can’t help but be frustrated at the interruption, waiting until after Luke leaves to huff and puff about it before starting to get ready.

. . .

“Luke has this old penguin fan account on Instagram from like seven years ago. There’s this one picture on there with him with a penguin hat-”

“Cal, stop,” Luke interrupted Cal swiftly, an arm going around his smaller girlfriend’s waist who looked far too amused by the embarrassing things about Luke that Cal was telling.

“No, no, Calum please keep going. Please,” The girl begged, feeling very comfortable around the Maori boy. They were pleasant, to her at least, and so far they had made her feel very comfortable and very much at home. It was hard to believe that the people joking with her where infamous mobsters, ones that were feared all across the city, and state.

They had met in Ashton’s house, who she had already met before, at six o’clock. It turns out gang members like to be punctual, or maybe it was only these ones.

Luke was in a bit of a hurry once he arrived back home, with no time to finish what he and his girl had started before he had to leave in a hurry, leaving her oh so frustrated. This was only magnified when she saw him afterward, ready to head to Ash’s in that pale pink silk button-up that only seemed like it would suit him; like it was made specifically for him.

Maybe it was.

Luke was never shy of customized clothing, cars, or anything he wanted honestly. If you have the money, why not? Was always his answer when she asked why he seemed to wear all of these expensive items. If it wasn’t custom-made, it was a high-quality designer that he wore, she rarely ever found him in anything that didn’t smell of cash and high-class, -far too expensive but albeit intoxicating- cologne.

This money of Luke’s also happened to extend to her also. He was never shy of picking her up a few things, letting her have his card for shopping and now, he started going out shopping with her too. He didn’t look like the type that would go out with his ‘girlfriend’ or anyone, but in the case of her, he followed her around like a lost puppy; willing to hold her bags, let her drain his bank account. Not that she did, anyway. She was still mindful, even if Luke had more money than he knew what to do with.

“Nah, can’t. Don’t want Luke to kill me for embarrassing me in front of his precious little girlfriend,” Calum teased lightly, shaking his head as his eyes darted to meet Luke’s baby blues. Truthfully, Luke could pretend to be annoyed at Cal and the rest for exposing his old penguin Instagram account but he was just glad to see them getting along with the girl that owned his heart.

She was the first girlfriend that his best friends seemed to approve of. He didn’t normally bring his girlfriends to meet them, but the ones he did, the boys he called his best friends didn’t usually like them. For the first time, Luke could actually see a future with the girl in front of him, beamingly smiling as Cal and Michael joke about with her and laughing at their attempts of humor.

God, he loved her.

“So, do you think they like me?” She asked the moment they got home, the door shut behind them. Luke turned around, staring at the wide-eyed girl with a small smile on his lips.

Did she seriously not realize how much they liked her? Especially with how much joking that they had done with her, he was certain that she would have realized but then again, she wasn’t the most self-assured person when it comes to new people. He nodded his head, “Yeah, Bambi. They really liked you.”

Luke would never get over the way her eyes sparkled, his smile only growing. She looked amazing in that red silky dress that he had bought her, and he looked just as good in the coral colored button-up he was wearing.

Their lips met softly, Luke bending down slightly to meet her lips as the girl went up on her tiptoes, bare feet on the top of Luke’s shoes. He didn’t mind, in fact, he barely even realized as he swiped his tongue across her bottom lip for access which she quickly gave him. Her hands wrapped around his neck, one entangling in his blond curls, while his went around her waist and one under her ass, lifting her up.

Her legs wrapped around his waist, lips never breaking away from his as she moaned into the kiss. She pushed herself closer to him as the kiss heated up, eyes closed as Luke tried his best to navigate the way to their bedroom. Thankfully, even with his eyes partially closed and completely distracted by the soft lips on his, he managed to get there, fumbling with the doorknob before kicking the door open.

Luke pulled away quickly to get a breath, now at the edge of the bed as his mouth went to the side of her face, pressing kisses along her neck before whispering in a sinfully sultry voice, “Let’s finish what we started earlier, huh?”

With that, she was placed down on the bed, staring at Luke with a glaze in her eyes, lust, lips slightly swollen as he pushed her dress up, nudging her underwear to the side. His fingers ghosted over her pussy, making her take a ragged intake of breath. He was on top of her, watching her as she awaited every movement of his fingers, completely helpless under his touch.

“So wet for me, baby,” He murmured, pressing a few chaste kisses against the base of her neck as he rubbed her slit. She didn’t reply just yet, whining lightly when he slowed down his movements, coming to a stop, “Tell me what you want baby.”

“You, Lu. I want you, sir,” Her words flooded out of her mouth quickly, the aching between her legs becoming too much. If Luke didn’t do something about it soon then she would have to. She stared up at his smirking face above her. His fingers pulled away from her, making her whine as he reached for his belt, skillfully unbuckling it and letting his cock spring free from its confines.

He looked up at her as he repositioned himself, her squirming with need beneath him before he lined his tip at her entrance, baby blues meeting her eyes, “You sure?”

She nodded vigorously in return, but Luke didn’t move, commanding lightly, “Words, baby.”

“Please Luke, I’m sure. Please fuck me.” He swatted her thigh at the sound of the swear falling from her lips but obliged nonetheless, plunging deep into her letting out a moan, her strangled moan following behind.

He plunged in once again, hitting a spot that made her whimper and moan at the same time, hands reaching around to his back, clawing on the now exposed skin. Luke’s hips are flushed against hers as he goes deep inside of her once again, both moaning.

“Fuck, Bambi,”

Luke’s pace quickened, thrusts becoming sloppier as he continued to thrust into her, hitting her sweet spot over and over, moans filling the room with small pleads from her and soft curses from him.

Then a phone went off. Luke froze inside of her, and she groaned, sweaty, a mess, and incredibly sexually frustrated. She could feel Luke sitting inside of her; how big he was. She thought that he was going to ignore the phone call, to continue something that they were robbed of earlier. He wasn’t really going to let them be interrupted twice today, was he?

He reached over to the bedside table, picking his phone up and looking at the caller ID before sighing. He pulled out of her, baby blues looking at her with a frown, “I need to take this.”

“Luke,” It was a plead. For him to stay with her, to let them finish what they started. She shuffled lightly until she was sitting in front of him, on her knees. Her hand went to the side of his face, caressing it gently as she put her face at his neck, “Stay with me, Sir. I need you.”

He knew exactly what she was trying to do, but he wasn’t going to fall for it. He pulled away from her, gripping onto her side as a warning with his free hand, “No, Bambi.”

His voice was low, a warning for her to stop what she was doing as he sent her a pointed look. He didn’t even let her make another move or get another word in before he was back in his jeans and walking out of the room, leaving her alone.

The seconds that she was alone turned into minutes, and those minutes turned into ten, then fifteen. She shifted uncomfortably, still on edge and incredibly frustrated. It didn’t seem like Luke was coming back as he had left without saying goodbye or telling her where he was going to be or how long. Was this all because she had tried to get him to stay?

Well, if he wasn’t going to get back, she would have to take stuff into her own hands. Leaning back, her hand reached her own clit, rubbing desperately, basking in the feeling once again. This time, she would get the job done.

Her fingers slipped inside of her, curling into her, moans softly filtering out of her lips. She was close, her fingers covered in her own slick as she continued to curl her hands into herself, soft pants falling from her lips as she spread her legs more to get a better angle, trying to go deeper.

Her hands would never be as good as Luke’s though, her small fingers not holding a torch to his digits. He knew everything that made her squirm, even better than she did, he had her all decoded, knew how to navigate her better than anyone else ever could.

“Baby I need to get-” Luke opened the door, stopping when his eyes met her figure on the middle of the bed, fingers inside of her as soft breaths fell from her lips. Her head titled back, eyes lidded as he froze on the spot before a smirk made its way onto his face.

“Really?” He asked incredulously, sauntering up to the bed before grabbing onto her wrist, pulling her fingers out of her desperate cunt making her whine. Her eyes met his, which never strayed, even after he brought her hand up to his mouth and swirling his tongue around her slick-covered digits.

“Lu-”

“Quiet,” He shut her up quickly, voice hard and commanding, something that made nerves bundle in her stomach and turned her on even more. He stood up again, sauntering over to the dresser before pulling a belt from the top of it, grabbing her hands and confining them with the thick leather, “Since you can’t keep your hands off of that pretty little pussy of mine, I guess we’re going to have to do something about that.”

Luke pulled her up to the headboard, hooping the leather around there and tightening it. When he let go, she pulled against the leather restraints, only to find her hands unable to move from their position at the headboard.

“So desperate to cum, baby? Well, you’ll be desperate to stop after I make you come over and over until there’s no more cum left in your body and you're writhing beneath me. Do you understand me, baby?”

“Yes Sir,” She whimpered out in return, nodding her head as she breathed heavily, watching Luke’s hand as it trailed teasingly down her side until it reached her pussy, a finger flicking up and down it, making her hips jerk up.

“But first of all, I need to go deal with the drug run. See you later, Bambi.”

And with a smirk on his face, Luke left his girlfriend there, tied up to the bed, whining for him to come back. And he would, and when he did, she wouldn’t be walking for days afterward.

#luke hemmings x reader #luke hemmings x you #luke hemmings x y/n #gang!luke hemmings x reader #gang!luke hemmings #gang!luke hemmings x oc #luke hemmings gang #luke hemmings smut #luke hemmings x oc

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burnedbyshoto · 4 years ago

Text

sleeping beauty

— You struggle to find a time to have sex with your beloved Aizawa. Unfortunately or fortunately, the only time you can fuck him is when he’s deep asleep.

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pairing: aizawa shouta x yandere fem!reader

warnings: 18+, smut, pwp, yandere!reader, non-con somnophilia, hairy aizawa rights, recording

word count: 4,201

a/n: mark ur calendar, im getting my nipples pierced nov 8. you bet ur ass imma write a bunch of nipple pierced readers from there on out. pray that my family never finds out about my nipples tho LMAO if they do,,, it;ll be ripped out of my boobies without a seconds hesitation

kinktober day 19 main kink: somnophilia | kinktober masterlist

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Aizawa was always busy.

Over the past ten years of knowing him, the two of you had been close. You were a good friend to him, someone he wouldn’t absolutely avoid at all costs when you walked through the hallways of UA, someone he wouldn’t mind rambling to him about their long day. Of course, you knew that you weren’t his closest friend, and to a certain degree, that upset you.

You had met Aizawa when you had first been a high school student; at the time, you were merely fifteen years old. He was twenty, only five years older than you, but he took your breath away from the first team-up. He had been tall, dark, and brooding, and your little coming out of an emo phase heart stood no chance. But, due to the age discrepancy, he was never anything more than a team member. Still, you held on.

You graduated from high school, made your impact as a sidekick, graduated to a Pro Hero, and offered a job at UA by the time you were twenty! So, for the past five years, you and Aizawa had been actual co-workers, and better yet, friends.

Aizawa indeed was one of a kind.

He still held the key to your emo school girl fantasy daydream, but you also discovered new sides and angles of him. You learned he was incredibly kind, thoughtful, and looked out for everyone, even if his gruff and sometimes rude mannerisms spoke otherwise. Although he tried to avoid any type of nonsensical drama like the plague, he was always caught up in it, which often amused you.

There was so much about Aizawa that you loved, so much that you adored and looked up to that it was no surprise that you figured your feelings of respect and admiration became love.

True, deep love.

As a third-year teacher at UA, you found that your interactions with Aizawa were quite limited. Not only because he was always being placed with a first-year class and said class moving on without him — something that only happened because he kept expelling the damn students — but because he was incredibly close with the first-year teachers.

You loved Present Mic and Midnight and All Might, don’t get it wrong! Your admiration, love, and respect for them were unprecedented, but you hated how much of Aizawa’s time they took.

“Sorry, Mic needs help with lesson plans for my class,” Aizawa apologized for postponing your lunch date, not a date.

“Sorry, Midnight needs help separating the problem children. Apparently, they’re growing an immunity to her quirk,” Aizawa grumbled, shoving his phone into his pocket before leaving your office where you both had been talking and drinking tea.

“Sorry, All Might—”

“It the class, your problem children, I get it,” you force a smile onto your face, trying not to show just how irritated and disappointed you were on how these days were going. Aizawa pauses for a second, his tired, dried out eyes trying to read and uncover the depths of emotions swimming in your eyes before he sighs and runs off.

But it went without saying that the people you hated most were Class 1-A.

The damn stupid, fucking, ungrateful class had already caused your beloved Aizawa to be hospitalized. The scar under his eye, a numbing reminder that you had nearly lost him, almost had to cry at his coffin with your feelings never once being uttered. They, without a doubt, took up his time the most.

He saw potential in all of them, none of them being failed or expelled by him thus far.

He spent countless hours up in the dead of night tracking each and every one of his student’s potential. Slaving away at his tablets to make sure that they all were feeling safe, heroic, and above all, they were headed to their individual greatness. So, although it would be two more years before you would have the opportunity to teach this class, you already had a vendetta against Midoriya Izuku and Bakugou Katsuki. Those little shits always taking up your precious Aizawa’s time! He had never been this tired prior to them showing up!

But you never tried to think about it when you were with him.

You tried to openly accept your Aizawa’s new, incredibly busy schedule, and the moment the dorms appeared within UA, you found yourself more at ease.

To be frank, since you acknowledged your love for Aizawa at the mere age of twenty, and now at twenty-five, you had never taken on a lover or a one night stand. For years you had not allowed a person to grace you in bed or in their arms. It felt like you were betraying your love, and you would rather die than let that happen.

But the thing is, you are human, entirely susceptible to waves of uncontrolled horniness and lust.

In the beginning, sex toys worked.

You would press a vibrator to your clit, your toes digging into the mattress as your other hand shoved a silicone dildo into your aching, needy cunt. At first, it worked! You would cum with the thoughts of Aizawa being the dildo buried deep within you.

But eventually, you would find yourself at the peak of that orgasm, you knew the orgasm was right beyond the bend, just a step more, but you couldn’t get there. For weeks you realized that the vibrator, the dildo, and your fantasy thoughts weren’t enough. So, in your frustration, you began to search up audio plays of his narration at UA Sports Festival. Listening to his voice, ignoring Mics’ voice, to help coax you over that bend.

For a while, you were back to normal. Your highs and juices splattering all over your bed, a symbol of your lust and love for Aizawa as you gasped his name, wishing that the audio was real. But eventually, even the audios weren’t enough.

You craved Aizawa’s warmth, the feeling of his rough stubble against your sensitive skin, the throbbing of his cock buried deep within your womb, undoubtedly kissing your cervix. You wanted him; you needed your beloved.

As if by the grace of God, the moment you could no longer bring yourself to cum through that alone, the dorm system was put into place. And you, a teacher, were required to live on campus too. You tried not to think of Aizawa being a dorm away, tried not to feel the warmth fluttering under your skin when the two of you bid goodnight for the day.

You definitely tried to stay out of his room in the middle of the night.

God, you wish you could say that you stayed out of his room, but that would be a lie.

A big fat fucking lie.

It had started out innocently enough, you will claim.

You would see the exhausted man wave goodnight, grumbling that he needed to sleep now or else he would not wake up on time for homeroom tomorrow morning. You waved goodnight to him, trying to stay engrossed in a conversation you were having with Hound Dog. But an hour after Aizawa had gone to bed, you found yourself rushing away from the common room, explaining you had something to grade as you bid everyone goodnight.

Without a doubt, you ended up in Aizawa’s room that night.

In the darkness of the night, you watched the moonlight barely breach the thickness of his curtains to fall onto his face. You felt so warm as you stared at his slumbered face, your cheeks flushed as you watched his parted, chapped lips. You felt so light watching his chest rise and fall in a hypnotizing rhythm, reminding you that he is real, so very, very real. A part of you aching, knowing that he was entirely real and yet not yours. But still, you admired the way he looked so young, so intense, so ethereal as he dreamed.

You loved him.

Eventually, when you decided to leave, you pressed a kiss to his lips, smiling at the way his lips were exactly as you had imagined:

Supple, warm, and tasting of his mint toothpaste.

But the nightly visits didn’t stop there.

Most nights, you found yourself in his room, laying by his side, merely watching as he slept. No orgasm in the world felt quite as fulfilling as the quiet that came with just watching the over-exhausted Aizawa sleep.

But this is not a story of simple love, no, not at all.

Eventually, you began to grow bold. Your fingers sinking into your wet cunt, playing with your sensitive clit as you watched him sleep. You bit your lip to keep yourself from moaning as a rasped breath expelled from his mouth. You nuzzled into the warmth of his body heat through at you and only prayed he would one day acknowledge and return your affections.

To be quite honest, you’re not sure when you began to suck him off too.

Maybe it was the first time his cock grew long and hard in the middle of the night, his mind undoubtedly having a wet dream. So, as his beloved, you only thought it was appropriate to give his body what he wanted. With the skills and intentions that could only arise from being a gifted Pro Hero, you pulled the blankets from his body and pushed his cock through the slit in his boxers, and took him all in your mouth.

His cock was absolutely mouthwatering too.

So big, so thick, so incredibly veiny that you nearly lost all control the first time you saw it in all its glory. He was better than any dildo you owned, his scent alone driving you crazy. And so, as you should, you began to fuck him, completely addicted to his aroma, taste, and touch.

After the first night, you continued to blow him. Continued to suck him off as Aizawa let out sleepy moans, grunts that were strained, his body shifting unknowingly as you continued to go up and down his length, continuing to relieve him of his stress.

But you were human.

A human with needs and desires, and eventually, his cum coating your throat and filling your stomach wasn’t enough anymore. Which is where we find ourselves now, unashamedly fucking Aizawa each and every night, your cunt swallowing him whole, without a single shred of doubt of what was wrong with this.

There wasn’t anything wrong with this, and you knew that even if he was asleep the entire time you fucked him, it was for the better.

“Wow, Eraser!” Mic yelled from your side as you sat on the couch next to your beloved best friend. “You look like you’re glowing!”

Looking up from your phone, attempting to portray yourself as curious and unknowing, you found your gaze falling onto Aizawa, who had returned from an early evening training session with his class. As a matter of fact, Aizawa’s face was glowing; he looked incredibly much more relaxed, much more than he has been since the beginning of this semester.

“What do you mean?” Aizawa asked, evidently unimpressed as a lone eyebrow raised.

You watched on quietly, lips pressing to your cup as you took a drink of your tea as he sank onto a seat in front of you.

“Wait, don’t tell me, listeners!” Mic gasped dramatically, his hands pressing to his cheeks as he stood up. His expression of shock and disbelief curling and becoming one of knowing and understanding. “Does our grouchy, one and only, Aizawa Shouta, a.k.a. Eraserhead, have a special someone?!”

“Mic—” Aizawa snapped, his eyebrows furrowing.

“There definitely has been an after-sex glow that Eraser has had for the past few weeks. He did say that he’s been feeling more… ahem, relaxed,” Midnight gasped, seemingly appearing from nowhere, incredibly interested in the rumor of Aizawa having sex.

“Just because I’ve been feeling less tense doesn’t mean that I’m having sex.”

You giggled into your cup as the three of them began arguing, Mic and Midnights naturally loud noise quickly drowning out Aizawa’s fruitless attempts to shut down any sexscapades they were coming up with.

“Y/h/n, what do you think?!” Mic yelled, his hand pointed at you as if holding a microphone as Aizawa had him pressed and tangled within his capturing weapon. “Is Shouta-chan having sex?!”

Yes, your mind begs to say, but your mouth curls into a teasing smile, eyes locking onto Aizawa’s annoyed golden ones.

“I don’t think there’s anyone on this earth that Aizawa currently wants to fuck six feet into the mattress when he’s so busy,” you chide, your smile never entirely disappearing. At the same time, you take a long slow drink from your cup while everyone else (Mic only, really) continued to scream.

But you stayed there for the rest of the evening, working in silence with the rest of the group as next week’s lessons were laid out. Through a persistent, entirely stubborn will, Mic managed to get Aizawa to admit that he hasn’t had sex since the time he lost his virginity, to which Mic admitted to having had sex via orgies only. Midnight proudly announcing that she had a side piece at her disposal.

So as you checked through your lesson plans for the ethics book your students would be reading next week, you shouldn’t have been surprised to see their expectant gazes on you.

“I had sex last night,” you admit, unable to lie under their amused gazes.

“WITH WHO?! ARE YOU SNEAKING SOMEONE ON CAMPUS?!”

For the rest of the night, you smiled brightly, laughing with the rest of them all as talks and stories revolving around sex filled the air. It lasted until past midnight, and with a heavy sigh, Aizawa excused himself first. You waved goodnight, and soon Midnight left, followed by Mic.

You stayed on the couch, your own attention focused heavily on the time and not what you were supposed to be doing. It didn’t take much before the time faded from 00:00 to 01:45, and with a brush of your skirt, you headed precisely where you wanted and needed to be.

The walk to his second-floor room filled you with lust. Your body, like some Pavlovian dog, trained and knowing that you were about to fuck the love of your life while he slept. He was so beautiful while he slept, a true sleeping beauty. You especially thought he was stunning when he bit his lower lip, stifling a moan despite his heavy slumber.

Without so much as a second thought, you apparated into his room, your feet cushioned by the soft carpet of his room. And with a smile that was dripping with your love, you stared at Aizawa’s sleeping form. He was already deep in sleep, his body positioned on his back as if he knew what you were doing, accepting the inevitable actions you would take tonight as you did every night. He just looked so calm, so beautiful, so youthful when asleep. The scar under his eye almost invisible

But unlike most nights where he slept in a soft cotton long-sleeved shirt and sweats, you froze at the sight of the tight black t-shirt on his sleeping form, the shorts that were riding just the slightest bit too low on his sturdy, muscled hips. Your bit your fist, a bubbling heat of lust, and a whine tickling the back of your throat as you take in his sleeping form.

He was doing this on purpose.

Teasing you with this outfit on his sleeping body.

You huffed, inexplicably turned on as the small puffs of air past his lips seemed to thunder around the room.

You were wet already, so very wet.

“You’re so mean, Shouta-kun,” you whimper softly, your voice silent and unheard by his sleeping form. You walk closer to the bed, lips pulled into a pout as you sit on the soft mattress. “Dressing up like that, I know you did that to tease me!”

Aizawa doesn’t respond because, of course, he’s asleep. But you smile regardless, imagining a million and three things he would say in response, each leading to what you wanted to do so desperately.

“I hope you know you were lying when you said you haven’t had sex since you were twenty,” you sigh, your fingers expertly removing his shorts and boxers from around his waist, using your quirk to make them reappear to the side of him. “We have sex practically every night; you’re so horny, my angel.”

You watch with a curling smile as his cock immediately begins to stiffen against your warm breaths, his face scrunching in his slight discomfort as his cock grows and grows. His cock is undeniably one of your favorite parts of his body. It’s pale in color, paler than the rest of his body, but as it extended to the swollen thickness of his head, it grew darker, the flushed brown pinkness of his head making you salivate at the memory of the first time you ever saw it. His cock, unlike the rest of his scarred body, was unharmed, unmarred by the horrors of the job the two of you held. The thick, beautiful smoothness of his skin, making your eyes flutter in unadulterated lust, his cock a symbol of your pure, unmarked love for him. You hum, hand grasping his length and lazily stroking him as your head tilts, reading his sleeping features for any sign of him enjoying this as much as you do.

“Aww, Shouta-kun, I wish you knew I fuck you. I bet you would turn bright red, knowing that I ride you every night. Maybe you’d use that weapon of yours to teach me a lesson or two,” you mumble, your hand gripping his cock harder as you stroke him.

A small glistening drop appears at the slit of his dick, and you shiver in excitement; he was already leaking pre-cum.

“Look at you, already ready to have my cunt wrapped around that big cock of yours,” you mewl, absolutely ready to mount him, prepared to have his sleeping form cum deep within you. You stand up, removing your shorts and panties, and climbing onto the bed.

With the balance of a pro, you get yourself hovering over him, your already wet cunt shivering with the expectance of having him deep within you. Your hand on his cock never once stopping as you tease yourself against his swollen head, your voice a pathetic whimper as your slick mixes with his clear pre-cum.

“S-See how embarrassing you are!” you huff, rutting his length between his folds, lubing him up for the initial entrance because, by god, it still hurt. “Making my pussy so wet! I’m practically dripping all over you!”

There’s only a soft breath from his lips, but you grin as if he was speaking to you.

“You want me too, huh?” you giggle, and without further adieu, you sink against him.

His cock entering your tight cunt was still as mind-numbing as the first time. His cock easily buries into the small, thin wall of your cervix, and you tremble as his length stretches and pulls at your throbbing core. You can feel every curve in his cock, every vein, every gentle throb.

“Glad t-to know you find me… nnghh… find me i-irresistible,” you pant, face flushed with your desire to adjust quickly around him.

The conversation from tonight had made you entirely weak in the knees and hot at your core, knowing that you were the only one to really have claimed Aizawa, the only one who would ever know how his sleeping body craved you as much as you desired him.

You give a tentative swirl of your hips, your eyes trained on Aizawa’s relaxed ones, testing to see how tired and sleepy he was. There was no reaction, no movement outside of the typical grunt at the back of his throat. It was a noise he always made when you first moved with him, a noise that quickly seared in the back of your memory forever.

Shifting your weight to be more comfortable on your knees, your hot hands fall onto his tight chest, and with a sigh of pure relief, you begin to fuck him.

Your straddling aided the deep penetration, allowing for the gentle kiss of the tip of his leaking cock to your thin cervix wall. You clenched tightly around him, unable to keep yourself from doing so as you rode him, the feeling of his throbbing member within you absolutely breathing taking as you placed your claim on him again, again, and again.

Aizawa was fully sheathed within you, and your fingers twisted and pulled at the tight fabric of his shirt, raising it up so that you could admire his taut, tense abdomen, mewling at the way he’s happy trail was thick and bushy. You wondered how he would react to your fingers threading through his body hair, if he would love it; if he would hate it.

“I want you to know how much I love you, how much I would give everything to you!” you whimper, your head fighting the instinct to throw itself back as you begin to drop onto his still cock faster and faster. “I wish you knew that you fuck me so good, Shouta-kun; I need you to know that! But you won’t even look at me! You won’t spare me a single second of your busy day, so that’s why I have to fuck you at night!”

Tears of both pleasure and hurt well into your eyes; you sniffle as you fuck him faster, dropping onto his awaiting cock with more significant, more aggressive slaps. The sounds echo throughout the room, the musky, sweet smell of your sexes is the only thing keeping you sane — that and the grunting noises that Aizawa keeps emitting, it makes your toes curl and belly flutter in a funny way.

“I bet you’ll fuck me so good once I get you to love me! You’ll never stop fucking me, you’ll never want to leave me because only I know how to fuck you correctly!” you snap, anger and lust licking through your tone, making your eyebrows furrow and your walls to clench even tighter around him. The building tension in your stomach is like a fire, and you can feel your high coming. “But you fuck me so good, baby, so good and you’re not even awake!”

And for the first time, you watch in electrifying pleasure as a low, husky, raspy moan leaves his throat as you fucked him. The sound alone was something downright pornographic to you, and the whine that spills from your mouth is nearly inaudible with the pitch it vibrates at. So without so much as a second thought, a bubbling smile spreads on your face, and you continue on, energy and excitement doubled in your joy.

Your hips roll, rise, and fall against his with growing force and speed. The small creaks of the mattress completely ignored by you as the throbbing and twitching of his cock buried deep within you keeps you pushing for more. The heat and pressure in your belly grow exponentially, festering and burning until you can feel yourself at the tipping point until you can’t do anything but focus on Aizawa and only Aizawa, or else you would scream his name in your euphoria.

The veins on his cock and the overall girth of his length send your mind spinning, not at all helping your predicament, and in a last-ditch effort to keep yourself from crying so loudly you would wake up even the dead, you lean forward. Your sweaty body leaning down to his parted chapped lips as you kiss him to keep yourself silent as your orgasm crashes through you in a blissful wave. Your body spasms almost uncontrollably, the nerves and firing axons through your body uncontrollable as you lay there, allowing for Aizawa to cum before you leave. You shudder at the feeling of his cum emptying out within you, his cock immediately softening as you lay there on top of him. His heart racing with his orgasm, and you sigh contentedly.

“God, I love you so much, Aizawa Shouta; I’ll make you mine one day,” you swear, your nose nuzzling his stubbled cheek.

You lay there for some time, enjoying the way he feels in you, content with the pooling cum from your still spasming cunt. But eventually, you pull away. You pull on your panties and shorts quickly, not wanting a single drop more of his cum to seep out of you. Unable to help yourself, you lick the leftover cum on his cock clean with your tongue before wiping him down with a towel to prevent the smell from clinging.

Your eyes study Aizawa’s face just before you leave, and your smile.

He really does look less tired after orgasming.

But the entire time you were there — the whole night you fucked him and spoke to him — you missed the red blinking light of the camera recording in the corner of the room.

#aizawa x reader #aizawa smut #bnha #bnha x reader #mha #tw: somnophilia #bbs kinktober 2020

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mamamania · 4 years ago

Note

Can I please get a yandere toby one shot?:) Toby has been sneaking off to visit the object of his affections late at night, of course she found it v odd(who wouldn’t? An obviously not mentally stable man knocking on your balcony door at 11pm demanding to get to know you is sketchy-) They soon grow friendly, mostly because she doesn’t know he stalked her for weeks before reaching out. One night Y/N is paying little attention to Toby, smiling at her phone, all distracted, and he doesn’t like it!🍥

YES YE SYESYEYSYEYSY😌🙌 I really enjoyed writing this one so its gonna be longgggg (´ω｀) I spent so long on this oh my fucking God. For anybody else that enjoys this, my masterlist is here if you wanna request anything :)

"What the fuck...?" You mumbled to yourself as you slowly pulled the bed sheets off of you. The tapping at your bedroom window never seemed to stop, if anything it only got more aggressive. It was what, 11pm almost 12am, who or better yet what the fuck is tapping at your window?

Picking up the first thing you can grab as you stalk towards the window. You look at what you had grabbed...a shoe...well, you hoped whatever it is liked the taste of rubber if it proved to be a threat.

Slowly pulling the curtain to your bedroom window back you took a glance outside to see...a man around your age? 'How the fuck did he get up here, its the second floor?' He gave a giddy wave at when he saw you, fingerless gloves showing off his dirty hands. His fingernails caked in dirt and....blood? 'What the fresh fu-'

Not even able to finish your own thought, his muffled voice came through the window. The mouth guard he was wearing not helping in your ability to hear him.

"Hey uh...whoever the fuck you are, um.. I can't here you very well can you take off your mouth thingy?" You asked the stranger whilst tapping your cheek to mimick his mouth guard.

Not going to lie, this guy gave you creepy hobo vibes. He had unkept slightly curly brown hair that had some leaves stuck in it. The areas of skin you could see looked either scarred or covered in what you hoped was mud. Hell, he was even covering his eye's with some sort of steam punk style goggles. Did this guy live in the woods or something?

He made a sound of realization that was barely registered behind the glass. He lifted the goggles so they rested against the top of his head. Honey colored eyes seemed nervous as they stared at you, watching your reaction as he pulled down his mouth guard. A small gidy and semi-nervous smile on his freckled face.

"Hi!! I was.. um, fuCK,.. wondering if we can be friends......?" His eyes were wide and hopeful as he asked you. And God dammit your tired brain can't say no to those puppy eyes....you were definitely going to regret this in the morning. So reluctantly you let this strange person into your bedroom, shutting the window behind him in the process.

"Alright so here's the deal," you started before he could get a word in. "You woke me up and now I'm going back to bed, you can sleep on the floor. And if you try anything I'll shove this fucking shoe down your throat. Got it?" Your (e/c) eyes not wavering from his.

He nods excitedly and sticks his hand out. "I'm T-Toby by the way!" Speaking as if what you had said went in one ear and out the other.

Huffing you stuck your hand out and grabbed his, shaking it as a greeting. "I'm (Y/n), good night I guess..."

Turning away from him, you reached under your bed to grab a spare blanket, tossing it at him. "Um..I need a pillow too..." He piped up. Not even turning around, you toss him one fo the pillows on your bed.

"Night Toby." A demanding tone in your voice.

"Night (Y/n)!"

><><><><><><

A month has passed since then. The first time you and Toby had met, and boy was he something. He had scary mood changes as you'd notice which would make him either really upset, really attached, or do things impulsively. Like the time he bought and entire bag of just the lucky charm marshmallows off Amazon (your account by the way, and you were quite upset with him) and then bought like 4 squishmallows.

But on most days though, like today, you the two of you just hangout like you are now. Your legs on his, which are up on the coffee table. You're just idly scrolling through your phone when you get a text from a good friend. It's just something silly that made you snort. Not even noticing the way Toby's gaze went sour.

He reaches over and quickly snags your phone from your hands. Looking at your screen with an even more disgruntled expression, tossing it across the room.

"HEy-"! You shout in surprise, frustrated at his actions. "DUDE THE FUCK WAS THAT FOR?"

You don't get a response at first though, only a scowl.

"I'm the only person you should be happy with." He says lowly. Holding your legs down to keep you from going anywhere. Fear starts to rise at his actions and tone. This wasn't his usual upset tone. It was more malicious and brooding, like it's been there for a while.

Before you realize he's just inches from your face, hot breath aggressively fanning against your cool and anxious skin.

"IM the ONLY person you should be happy with? Did I stutter? No I f-FuckinG didn't."

His tone continued to make goosebumps rise on your skin. Your eyes going wide at his next words. " Now if I gotta break your fucking legs to keep you with me, and drag you kicking, screaming, and crying through the God damn woods so no one else can be with you then I will."

Not even able to form a response at his truly terrifying words, you're left gaping at him like a fish out of water.

This is the Toby you remember meeting..

#yandere creepypasta #yandere #yandere x reader #x reader #creepypasta #creepypasta x reader #ticci toby #yandere ticci toby #toby rogers #one shot #creepypasta oneshots

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hezuart · 3 years ago

Note

That anaversary aizen looks absolutely fabulous, he looks like a figure skater xd.

I heard along time ago the last arc of the anime was being animated finally bc they pulled a 90s sailor moon were the last season was not either animated or dubbed untill decades later.

I recall near the end of the current 366 episodes there was an episode were the creapy demon ppl woke up in hell and we're all bitter, and there was the other guy who was like, iM cOmEiNg FoR u IChIgO, but then is never mentioned again after and I'm like,why? Why is lt there just plopted randomly into a different arc that seams unrelated.

And locking aizen up underground seems ok, but It deff won't hold, and he will. Escape, and he will kill, you either need that one spell from star, dubbed, the darkest spell of moon the undaunted, a powerfull dark spell that killed immortal beings, that came from best character, eclipsa, the queen of darkness.

We need that.

Or stick him I'm crystal like eclipsa was in star. Is there no one who could trap him in ice or crystal for all eternity.

How about throw him into the centre of a volcano trapped and caged , forverr being killed by heat?

I assume there's space travel, send I'm into a black whole, were a black whole don't fuckin care if your immortal or fat, you will die

Yes, I love anniversary Aizen. His original octopus-butterfly hollow design was ugly so I'm glad he's back to being the fashion icon he is.

Locking Aizen up underground once is one thing, doing it twice after saying he got more powerful by just sitting there, and he escaped to battle the Quincy Soul King God... is another. I think he should have escaped at the end of the Quincy arc. That is the only feasibility.

I heard the anime is coming back for the Quincy arc as well, but because of COVID its probably going to be delayed. (I'm not gonna watch it until the Rain section of the arc then I'm dipping out. I'm only here for Zangetsu)

and funny that you mention that hell scene in the manga :)

-> spoilers for the new BLEACH 73 page anniversary chapter / thoughts/critique on it

So hey you had a premonition! Syazel .... returned? And his hole is outside of his body??? for some reason???

(I didn't understand the explanation or why / how that happens and what that means for the hollow)

And my friend and I were laughing because out of ALL the things. Kubo could do in this anniversary. He gave Syazel his dick back after going to hell. That is iconic. (that's where his hole was located, and now that its not on his body ... well...) This is the funniest thing Kubo has EVER pulled. Kudos to you, sir.

The entire internet is freaking out over Ukitake being in hell. Honestly Kubo has done far worse, and we've established that Soul Society is a corrupt system that hasn't changed, so I'm not surprised he would pull something like this.

At the same time, Kubo 1. cheated his audience. 2. continues to prove me right that he cannot bring himself to kill his characters

1. Hollows who have commit murder in their human life are sent to hell. Syazel and Aaorniero are two of these hollows, and yet, when they are killed, there is NO gates of hell scene. We see them there later in the hell chapter (which was more of a promotion for the fourth movie and I didn't believe it would hold any merit)

But the same goes for Ukitake. We never see the gates of hell take him. What, was hell late? Did hell's gates get lost like an uber before picking him up? It's bull. Withholding such vital information from your audience, not showing the gates of hell when they should pick up this soul IMMEDIATELY is ... I mean its a lie. Kubo lied to his audience.

2. Now we are told powerful shinigami are sent to hell when they die. First of all that sounds like a security threat. Wouldn't shinigami want revenge for that? Or attempt to escape? Why would they still hold loyalty after being sent to a prison of eternal suffering?

Also "Yhwach and Aizen" were the only ones keeping Hell's gates closed is way too convenient and doesn't really make any sense. I feel like Aizen should have deliberately gone to hell to retrieve powerful shinigami / hollows for his army instead of keeping it /closed/.

This is definitely a Kubo-doesn't-know-what-he's-doing-and-is -making- stuff-up-as-he-goes, but it might have a pinch of merit because of previous plot lines.... but either way, there's some big plot holes here, but again, its Kubo, so I expected nothing less.

Again, he can't kill off his characters. He introduced zombification, he introduced immortality through the hougyoku, he has Orihime and Hachigen's reversal / rejection abilities. He brought back Luppi, friggen.... a character who's entire upper half of his body was incinerated. Like.... come on. No. He's dead, you can't bring him back like that. That's a cop out and just weird. You're taking away consequences and grief.

(Also Yamamoto and Unohana deserve to be in hell far over Ukitake, they've done some fcked up stuff in their pasts unlike him)

Also Kubo's favorite character is Mayuri, which.... you're allowed to have a favorite problematic character. But Keeping said character alive and bared from the consequences of abusing his daughter, murdering innocents, and experimenting on your own squad members? Nah. Nope. Kill him, Kubo. Kill this dude.

(his weird attachment to Mayuri is probably why he keeps bringing Syazel back, since Syazel is Mayuri 2.0, but Syazel is the bad guy who does face consequences for his actions while Mayuri is not)

Also, I'm certain Kazui and Orihime are going to be THRILLED that their precious husband/dad is going to hell when he dies :)

(I just... Rukia teased Ichigo about leaving Orihime at home. She teased him about having a house wife who he leaves all the chores to. Orihime had two panels. She checks on her son who promised he would be at home and sleep. Kazui fcking breaks his promise like it never mattered to him and JUMPS out the window after pretending to sleep in front of his mother. ... An 8 year old... alone... in the middle of the night.)

Orihime is abandoned. She is not invited to SS, she is not informed of what is going on, her son leaves her.... I...

Orihime is a side character. She doesn't matter anymore. She hasn't mattered for a long, long time.

A part of me is glad she had little screen time, since she tends to waste it, but another part of me is embroiled with rage.

I've even see people try to defend this. "Orihime and Ichigo can't be together ALL the time, that's an unhealthy relationship!" and I'm like guys... that's not the point. The point is Orihime is not part of Ichigo's other life. Any shinigami stuff from now on is none of her business. She's going to stay at home while Kazui and Ichigo go off and save the world. Ichigo is going to be fighting by Rukia and Renji while Orihime watches from the sidelines, or worse, doesn't even know what is going on with her husband and son. Orihime is going to be uninformed and abandoned, because she has not proven she is capable of fighting by their sides(go on, @ me. I will fight this. She's a failure.), and also because she prefers a human life over a dead one. Which is ironic, because she married a dead man. Ichigo is a shinigami, and he will be one forever. god forbid she ever meets his Zanpaktou. She would tremble in fear at the monsters her husband harbors in his soul, especially when she realizes they don't care about her and would rather see her dead. (Zangetsu would absolutely kill Orihime. Not sure about Kazui, but Orihime has not accepted Zangetsu, she does not like either of them, and the feeling is assuredly mutual.) frick now I want to make a comic about this

Also still frustrated over Zangetsu's shikai / bankai regression. Kubo once again lied to his audience. Ichigo has no bankai. How ridiculous is that? The main character of BLEACH doesn't have a bankai. Insulting.

(RIP to Chad. He doesn't exist anymore. He's just gone. No mention, no cameo. Gone.)

Kazui is a demon child. That character from the novels? Hikone? They're the same character. Literally same personality, same power level. Its worse because Kazui is a liar. He constantly goes behind his parents' backs. He can summon creepy fish and creepy eyeballs and open portals like is ANYONE aware of this? How has SS not kidnapped Ichigo's son and experimented on him / locked away his powers yet? All substitute shinigami require a reiatsu controlling / spy badge to keep them in line. Where is Kazui's? Or is he just a weird fullbringer?

I was worried Kubo was gonna try and pull a knock off Boruto but luckily he kept the focus on Ichigo and the others. But that being said, Ichika and Kazui are now just... sort of there? Kazui was kinda just.... having his own adventure that doesn't matter to the plot at hand, and Ichika had some nice characterization at first but she just hid behind her dad the whole time.

I have a feeling Kazui is gonna step in at the last minute or do some major behind the scenes thing that indirectly interferes with the main plot so no one will realize how powerful and dangerous he actually is. Its sad because Ichika is the superior character in personality and likability, but she clearly is not going to have a bigger part in this.

Ichigo having a normal life after everything still feels extremely boring and uncomfortable to me. Everyone's like 'I'm still bLEACH!" but.... BLEACH just... doesn't feel like BLEACH anymore. It hasn't for a while now.

~~~

There's two new shinigami characters. Didn't care for the girl, but the Sign Language kid who talks to animals is adorable ... however... he just reminds me of Chad, and I just... it hurts knowing Chad has essentially been deleted. Chad and Orihime are officially benched. They have chosen the human world, and Orihime has given Ichigo his spawn so she has no more use/purpose to him anymore... ////sigh

~~~

Also. This is claimed to be a new "arc". So is the BLEACH manga coming back? What is happening. I thought Kubo was tired and didn't want to do BLEACH anymore. I thought Shounen Jump cut him off. People made so many excuses for Kubo and why the past two arcs have been so badly written the past 6 years and now almost everything they've attempted to defend him with has been revoked.

BLEACH is going to continue to screw up its plot lines and characters, so Its probably best for it to stay dead but I've seen a lot of Kubo stans drooling over this content, they're desperate for BLEACH's return, but its already given out all its possible revelations. There's really nothing else to top here. It's just going to make things up as it goes along ,and I'm not really here for half-assed writing like that, especially since the damage of rushing the previous manga has already been done. Kubo and Shounen Jump are riding off a money nostalgia. None of this was planned.

Honestly though.... overall feeling of this chapter, not as bad as it could have been.

Syazel stole the spotlight, and he's my friend's favorite character, so that's all that really matters.

#bleach #bleach spoilers #spoilers #text post #anti bleach 686 #anti ichihime #ask #tite kubo #technically anti renruki too but #ichihime destroys the plot more than renruki #renruki feels like an after thought #they're only together for kazui and ichika's existence #but if these two are lacking in use if BLEACH were to continue then why have them at all #even tho ive tagged this as anti ichihime #interestingly enough there is no ichihime interaction or really mention at all in this chapter

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wh6res · 4 years ago

Text

sedan | jaemin

—part 2

synopsis. it was only a matter of time until he snapped. he was right, you should've seen it coming.

warnings. noncon, swearing, yandere themes, there’s a knife lmao

note. yalls idk :( it keeps deleting paragraphs when i add a readmore wtf is this sorcery IM SO SORRY

[read part 1]

apparently, your captor had enough respect for your dignity not to take you in the backseat of his old sedan. saying something along the lines of how you had completely ruined the mood by how much you were crying underneath him. “it’s not even pretty crying!” jaemin had exclaimed, hauling you up to your feet and carrying you bridal style towards the house.

respect? pft. he has long passed the line of respecting your dignity—the moment he forced that drug into your system and shoved you inside his car, he was a goner.

you don’t bother thrashing against his arms, having thought better. with your wrists and knees duct-taped together, running seemed like a joke. instead, you stare longingly at the outside world over jaemin’s shoulder—it definitely isn’t the last time you’ll see it, but if you were here because of his fucked up possessiveness over you, then escaping will be a challenge.

three months of working alongside jaemin is enough for you to know how thorough he can be. he’s quite the perfectionist, and you remember admiring his keen attention to detail but now you only fear for the things he has in store for you to make sure you’ll never leave his side. it was due to this train of thought that you involuntarily start shaking against him. the automated lock in the front door beeps into place and now you were stuck here with him, once and for all.

before you are able to take a look around the house, scoping enemy territory, a hand comes up to cover your eyes. the moment your fingers wrap around his wrist to pry it away, he hisses, and you let go immediately.

“stay still or else,” you obliged, scared of what he can do now that he has you all to himself inside the house. “i know what you’re thinking. still so fucking predictable. you’d have to earn my trust until i let you roam around here.”

the loud clicks of your restraints locking together prove that he is a man of his word.

the basement he keeps you in is disgusting. the tiles beneath you are cold, a few leaking pipes in the corner, dust everywhere, and a tiny window across the room—you doubt your chains can reach that far. but what captured your eyes the most is the numerous pillows stuck onto the walls and ceiling. the colors of its casings are faded, none of them matching one another at all. it was as if everything was messily put together at the last minute and you almost feel a tiny bit of relief that maybe, jaemin isn’t as thorough as you thought he’d be.

“i soundproofed the walls and everything, isn’t that romantic?”

you don’t answer, too caught up thinking about how you’ll stay warm that you don’t notice the way his eyes trail over your shaking figure, knees tucked under your chin, pressing yourself firmly against the wall to appear smaller. to create as much distance from him as possible.

jaemin frowns in distaste, a low hum resounding in the back of his throat as he thought; no, this won’t do.

“are you cold?” he asks.

once again, he’s met with silence.

if there is one thing jaemin absolutely hates with a passion, it was being ignored. the feeling is so foreign to him. maybe it was because of how much he naturally expects to bear the spotlight, that when you refused to even slightly acknowledge him as anything, he was confused. fascinated but frustrated at the same time.

it is the same frustration he felt when you turned him down. the same frustration he felt when you fought against him. the same frustration he felt when you don’t stop crying underneath him. the same frustration he felt right at this very fucking moment.

“i don’t think ignoring me will do you good, sweetheart. i asked you a question, didn’t i? i’ll say it again, one last time,” the edge in his voice is unmistakable. “are you cold or not?”

at this point, jaemin feels stupid for even thinking about granting you the slightest bit of leniency by leaving you alone tonight. jaemin had been willing to put aside his desires and wants for you. but his patience can only stretch so far until it comes snapping back.

and boy, were you in for it.

he utters your name, low and threatening and you just knew what it meant. as the victim, it should’ve been in your best interest to keep your captor from losing his shit and hurting you… and yet, you remain silent. you don’t know what’s gotten into you. the words are right at the tip of your tongue but you don’t say anything. it was as if time had stopped and your brain had short-circuited, making you forget how to speak.

when he stood up from the stool and started stalking towards you, you knew it was too late.

“jaemin…” your voice shakes. “jaem—yes, yes—i feel—i feel cold—”

the sting on your right cheek is the only thing to register in your mind for a few good seconds until it all clicks into place. he just backhanded you.

“i never thought you’d be such a fucking bitch,” he hisses, pulling at your restraints. “you were so silent, i thought you went mute, baby. how can you treat me like that? it’s no way to treat your lover.”

his soft tone catches you off guard for a fraction of a second. it was the same way he spoke to you before… all of this. it was the same tone that had once lulled you into a sense of security when you were stuck in a new environment, scared, making mistakes left and right, but jaemin had proved he can be someone you can depend on.

and look at what that cost you.

jaemin’s eye twitched when he noticed the slightly dazed look on your face, eagerly slotting himself between your thighs before holding your legs down with his shins. his hands dart out, grabbing your jaw in one hand before placing the other snug around your neck. the man can feel the rush of his blood flowing through his veins, ears ringing as he admires how pretty you were underneath him—pretty and helpless.

with a sudden urge, he darts his head forward to take a long whiff of your hair, eyes rolling back in ecstasy. he barely even registers the tears wetting the hand holding your face. jaemin is too far gone in his head because finally, fucking finally, he has you right where he wants you and absolutely no one can steal you away from him anymore.

meanwhile, you try hard to push him off of you but the pressure he’s applying to your legs proves too much. the hand encased around your throat pulls away and your happiness was short-lived as jaemin reaches for something above your head. it glints against the sole fluorescent light in the basement—

you freeze at the sight of his pocket knife.

he laughs, sounding too sweet and lighthearted. “now, now. i won’t hurt you…”

you hold your breath when he drags the knife across your body. from your collarbones, down the valley of your breasts, and finally settling at the bottom of your shirt. “i won't hurt you if you don’t move around too much.”

the sound of fabric ripping against the sharp blade made you want to thrash as hard as you can but jaemin had purposely angled the knife so the tip dragged against the surface of your skin. bile rises up your throat when you notice the way he eyes every inch of your torso as its slowly revealed to him.

“see, i know you’re a good girl. i just have to force it out of you sometimes, huh?” he mocks, quickly hooking the knife under your bra so he needn’t struggle reaching for the hook in the back.

his reaction is immediate the moment he sees you bare before him. he doesn’t even grant you the chance of hiding when he’s managed to hold your wrists in one hand, the knife clattering loudly on the floor as he surged forward, lips latching onto one of your breasts as his free hand feels the other one up. you turn your head to the side, not wanting to see his ministrations. until one particularly hard nip makes you yelp, his teeth latching painfully against a nipple before glaring at you through his eyelashes.

“eyes on me.”

jaemin can’t have you turning away from him. it simply looks like another act of defiance, as if you were depriving him of the expressions of pleasure found in your face as he continues to lick and suckle at the skin of your breasts, purple and red blooming on your skin.

when jaemin retracts from you to pull his shirt over his head, you made the last feeble attempt of trying to escape him. you’re able to free one of your legs from underneath him and have successfully delivered a kick to the groin. jaemin folds in pain. you managed to flip onto your stomach, dragging your body away with just your arms. you’ve only managed a few inches, chains rattling aggressively, when you felt his nails dig into the back of your thighs.

“fuck,” he grunts. “you’re going to fucking pay for that, pretty thing.”

he turns you around with one hand, unfazed by the pitiful look of your tears and snot cascading down your face as he looms over you, his knife in one hand as he fists your hair.

you shook violently as you brace your hands against his bare chest. jaemin would’ve revelled at the feeling of you touching him if you hadn’t kicked him in the balls only seconds ago.

“jaemin, please… i don’t want any of this—”

“you’re so cute, begging like anything could get you out of this.”

you flinch, eyes shutting closing on instinct. you feel something sharp poking on your neck, and it only takes you a fraction of a minute to register that jaemin is now holding his knife against your throat. digging the blade enough for you to know it’s there but not hard enough to draw blood.

“look how much you’re shaking, baby,” he coos, the tightness in his pants becoming unbearable as he gives you a one over. “such a sheltered kid, aren’t you? no wonder you’re so fucking naive, always making mistakes. always making the wrong judgement. you’re used to depending on someone, right? well…”

jaemin slices the skin above your collarbone. you don’t scream, the fear of him slicing your throat all together lies heavy in the air.

“…it’s a good thing you met me, huh?”

fuck you.

“i’m here, baby. you can depend on me all you want,” the giddiness and the sudden spark in his eyes make you dread what he’ll do next—you hear the sounds of a belt unbuckling. “i’ll bathe you, i’ll feed you, dress you up, but…”

there are no tears left when you feel his fingers pulling your shorts down together with your underwear. no tears left when you feel the tip of his cock prodding at your entrance.

“…you’ll have to give me something in return. that’s what good girls do, right?”

you screamed.

#yandere nct #yandere jaemin #yandere kpop #tw noncon #tw dubcon #tw knife

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barsformars · 4 years ago

Text

Tricky

g - fluff, slighttttttt angst, suggestive

p - san x reader

w.c - 1.9k

t.w - san touching reader's naked body

c - san takes care of you when you get injured and are left all alone at home. the catch is? both of you obviously have feelings for each other but.....san

a.n - uusjsjjs this was requested through private message! im sorry it took so long lmao uh, this is just 1.9k of plotless words nothing will be solved by the end of the story so its almost like word vomit???

t.l - @closer-stars @jeongyunhoed @fairyofdusk

"It's not funny," you snarled at the pink haired boy who seemed to be overly amused at this situation in which both your arms were put in slings. You had slipped over a puddle of water, and that had sent you flying down the small flight of stairs right outside the taekwondo dojang, resulting in two dislocated shoulders. San pressed his lips firmly into a tight line to stop the corners of them from quirking up. On one hand, he does feel really bad, but if he said you didn't look ridiculously hilarious right now, he'd be lying. "I wonder who was on the verge of tears earlier on."

"That's because you were in so much pain I felt so bad for having asked you over for a sparring session!" San defended himself, a small pout forming as he did so. "At least the body and shin guards saved you from breaking your bones."

Once the elevator reached your floor, San pressed on the button to hold them open while keeping a close eye on you as you slowly exited. You've never noticed how much arm or shoulder action happens when you walk, until now.

It was only when you stepped through your front door and noticed your roommate's house slippers still sitting on the bottom of the shoe rack do you remember that they were out on a business trip. Being alone at home right now wasn't an option for you when you couldn't do anything by yourself, but your roommate wouldn't be back till next week. You didn't want to burden any of your other friends so late in the night, you had no choice but to rely on San.

But things...are always a little trickier with him.

"I can only stay for tonight," San sighed as he placed his phone down on the coffee table. You don't know if it was a sigh of relief or one of frustration; he had pleaded over the phone for ten minutes. "But my manager said that they can send someone over to help you out for the next few days."

"It's alright, I'll ask Jimin for help tomorrow. If they aren't available, I'll let you know, yea?" San nods, though rather reluctantly. He trusts that you'll be able to take care of yourself, except physically for now at least.

San holds you by the waist to support you as you got up from the couch, keeping an arm wrapped around it as he brought you to the bathroom. "Please tell me you have a bathtub."

"I insisted on having one, glad it's finally of actual use."

"Oh yeah."

As you soaked in the warm bath that San had ran for you, you couldn't help but think of everything that has been happening between the two of you. The lingering touches, the jokes with double meanings, the way he gazes at you so softly, and the sudden tension that fills up the atmosphere following all those. San hasn't put a title over what this relationship was, and you've been too afraid to take the lead even though you knew that friends don't act like that towards one another. You didn't want to pressure him, he already has a lot on his plate. But he ought to give you an answer soon if he's about to see you in your most vulnerable state, right?

There comes another knock on the door, the tenth one in the whole duration of your bath. "I was being serious when I said don't try to act tough and do everything alone." The knocking continued on non-stop until you replied.

"You're an impatient one, aren't you?" You joked. "I'm done, I need help getting out."

"Not impatient, just worried." You hear his back leave the door for a moment as he stood up from the floor. And as politely as he could be while intruding into your private space, San pushed open the toilet door gently and stepped in after informing you first. You couldn't stop the giggle from escaping your throat when you took sight of him, his eyes shut close in consideration that you might not want him seeing you naked.

"Oh, you're laughing? At me?" San asked in disbelief as he pulled his arms that were searching for the wall back and rested his hands on his hips, a playful smile growing on his face. "Why are you laughing?"

"Because you're cute," you cooed, much to his dismay.

"I'm not cute!" San argued, his eyes now open and glaring at you, still rather adorably. But before you could tease him any further, San practically stomped his way to the bathtub, leaning down to your eye level as his arms gripped onto the sides. "Don't mistake my manners for cuteness, I'm not." He said, almost with a growl, as he reached into the water and wrapped his strong arms around your torso, pulling you up so that you could stand. Taking pride in the way your eyes widened in surprise, San couldn't help but smirk before giving you a quick peck on your forehead. "You're cute."

Once he got you out of the bathtub, San tried his best to not look at your body as he dried you up with a towel while you stood there blankly, still at a complete loss for words. "You're so rude," you told San after finally able to process whatever just happened a minute ago. The boy merely raised his eyebrows, his lips pursed. "Taking advantage of my injuries to show off your strength when you know how I feel about it."

"Well, you're not stupid, you know how I feel about you. It's only normal I act cool a little," San replied nonchalantly but you could tell that he was too afraid to look you in the eye. "Come on, let's go get you dressed."

"Also, just thought that you should know...." San paused for a moment to make sure that you dried your feet properly on the mat before continuing. "I almost patted your bare ass earlier on." You can't even blame him. With how touchy he and his members are, you aren't even surprised that touching people's butt has become their second nature. But even then, he really didn't have to tell you.

"TMI dude."

San had been watching YouTube tutorials on how to put on shirts with a dislocated shoulder while waiting for you to wash up earlier on. You wouldn't have known either if he wasn't showing off all the knowledge that he had learnt less than half an hour ago by trying to convince you quite passionately, and with demonstrations, about why a dress shirt would be much easier to put on than a t-shirt, especially in your case.

"I will. I will wear dress shirts until my shoulders recover," you sighed heavily in defeat. "But just for tonight, can you help me with a t-shirt? I want to sleep comfortably even if it's just for tonight."

This time it was San's turn to sigh as he reached out to pinch your cheek. "I already told you that it will hurt."

"Make it not hurt then." You shook your head so that he would let go.

"Just sleep naked then," San mumbled under his breath but loud enough for you to hear, causing you to scowl at the boy. He catches your expression and sticks his tongue out at you. "Am I wrong?"

"T-shirt," you stated firmly, refusing to comply even when you knew San only had the best intentions for you in mind. You already don't think you could sleep with two injured shoulders, much less with your crush staying the night with you, and definitely even much lesser with an uncomfortable sleeping outfit. "Or I'll bite you." Those words becoming a reality became much more probable when his dimples makes an appearance once again, resembling the dent on a mochi when you press into it with a finger.

"I don't think that's a wise idea right now, maybe next time-" he gave you a gentle boop on the top of your nose with his finger-"now, your majesty, may I help you put on your gold thread shirt made from silk of the finest quality on so that both me and you can be spared from getting ourselves into a tricky situation?" If you could throw a punch at San right now, you would, but all you could do right now was to sit on the bed quietly and accept the teasing. And also whatever San was about to do to help you put on the shirt.

You wonder if it's too late to change your choice of clothing after San kneels down behind you on the bed, his chest and toned abdomen almost plastered onto your back as he reached over your shoulders to grab your forearms. "I need you to put your arms a little closer together, we'll have to try to get both through the sleeves together," he explained clearly and waited for your nod before he moved your arms as cautiously as he could, his eyes studying every twitch of your facial expression to check for discomfort or pain. "Tell me if it hurts okay? Don't act tough, I keep telling you that but please, please don't act tough."

All you could manage was a soft "mhm", your throat feeling too tight for proper words to come out of your mouth. You wonder if San, like how you could feel the warmth of his hands and body, could feel the heat radiating off your cheeks too. "I'm going to pull both sleeves up now, it may hurt a little," San warned, one hand coming up to pat your head affectionately before he gripped onto the sleeves again. Even with how gentle he was being, a wince still manages to escape from you, putting a pause on San's actions as he tilt his head to look at you. "I'm sorry, it will be over soon." You nodded, fully trusting him.

Though there were still a couple more times your shoulders hurt before the sleeves were fully through, the little apology he makes every time that happens comforts you, and also, makes your heart beats embarrassingly fast. Getting your head through the hole was a much easier feat and it didn't take long before your shirt was on.

San got off your bed to fetch his backpack and for a moment you thought that he was going to pull out the painkillers that you were prescribed with but instead, he took out two boxes of shoulder brace. "When did you even get that?" You asked, amused and touched at the same time. The shoulder slings the hospital had put you in was terribly uncomfortable and while the brace may not be way better, it was still better than the sling.

"When you were getting your x-ray done," San replied with a proud smile.

"Aw, I would give you a pat on your head if I could."

Upon hearing that, San practically shoved his pink hair into your face as he bent down. "You can kiss me on my head."

"I will bite you."

#kwritersworldnet #kdiarynet #8makes1teamnet #ateez scenarios #ateez reaction #ateez imagines #ateez oneshot #ateez drabbles #ateez blurbs #ateez #ateez fluff #ateez san #san #san fluff #requested #ateez writings #<- lmao that tag is here becaude i wrote ateex writing at first oops

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mono-dot-jpeg · 4 years ago

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having a sweet but hot-tempted s/o - k. akabane, n. shiota, c. ryuunosuke, i. yuuma

a/n: im rewatching the series and god i love them ✨✨ i need to make content of them NOW-

karma akabane

Now you were usually a very sweet and nice person but when Karma found out about your hot tempered side, he liked to bring that side of you out a lot. The class was usually worried that you would really snap at him one day but you never did. Sure, you got mad at him but you never got too into your anger.

But he won't deny, he liked your sweet side. I mean who wouldn't? You were really nice to everyone but you stood up for yourself when you needed to and you had a fire in your eyes. He liked that.

He loved you a lot, he would admit that gladly. He liked seeing you mad everytime he teased you. It was pretty cute to him.

"Oh, y/n!" He sung teasingly as he sat on the couch lazily. "Come out, we made a deal!" You can practically see devil horns grow on his head.

"I hate you for this, Karma!" You huffed as you walked out of your room. "Why do you even have this?!" It was a maid uniform.

"Why not? Got it just for you, babe!" He stuck his tongue out, winking at you. "You look pretty cute! I wonder what the class would think about this." You can see him pull out his phone to take a picture of you.

You quickly climb onto him to grab his phone but it's just out of your reach. "Karma! Don't you dare!" You kept trying to grab the phone but no success. You hadn't realized but you were right where he wanted you. His free arm wraps around your waist pulling you close to him. "Karma! What are you doing?!"

"Having fun in teasing you, of course." He chuckled. "I'm kidding. Just wanted a cuddle." He said with a false innocence to it.

“Yeah right! You’re just enjoying every second of this bet!” You yelled at him, hitting him though it didn’t do anything. He laughed while he held you tight. “Let go of me, you idiot!”

“Aww but I wanted to hold you a bit longer!” He smirked as you huffed, crossing your arms over your chest.

“I hate you..”

“I love you too!”

nagisa shiota

Nagisa had always been close to you, even before you started to date, he often saw and seized your hot tempered side. He often got called the “y/n Tamer” since he kept you in check and kept you calm. Though you sometimes got called violent, Nagisa knew there was more to that than your hot temper.

He liked both sides of you. He kind of wished that he was as assertive as you could be. You were usually the one protecting him than him protecting you. It took a small stab at his pride but you always reassured him that you liked him the way that he was.

He never liked seeing you mad but he did like when your cheeks went red as you get flustered by Karma teasing you.

“y/n, what are you doing?” You can see Nagisa watch you worried as you’re glaring at a bully from B Class that had just made fun of you and Nagisa.

“Can I please beat him up?” You asked him, pulling at the sleeves of your uniform roughly.

“Please don’t do that.” He dropped a sweat at your question, holding your hand to hopefully calm you down.

“Nagisa!” You dragged out his name, nearly whining. You heard another insult from the bully, quickly glaring at the bully. “What do you have to say now, coward?! Fight me!” You challenged as Nagisa is already trying to tug you back towards the E Class classroom. “Let me fight them!” You huffed as he continued to tug you away.

"y/n, I love you but please don't fight anyone.." He said as you both arrive at E Class. "As much as I appreciate you standing up for me, I would like to just ignore them. We have each other and that's okay!" He smiled.

"Nagisa, you're so cute!" You smiled brightly at him, hugging him tightly.

chiba ryuunosuke

Chiba never understood you at first with your sweet yet fiery personality. It nearly scared him during PE classes since you got fired up easily. But curiosity killed the cat but satisfaction brought it back. He ended up falling for you. It took a lot to confess to you but he did. When you were around the male, you were so...quiet and sweet.

The class would’ve thought you were just shy but not until PE classes started. It was no mercy for everyone including Chiba. But in a way, that made him feel respected. You acknowledged his skills and he acknowledged yours. Neither of you went easy on each other just because you were both dating.

He never saw you off-the-rails mad but it was somewhat entertaining to watch you get a little mad at some trivial thing.

“Fight me, Chiba!” Now your classmates would’ve been worried if it wasn’t for the fact that this was a daily thing. “I’ll get you this time!” You swore as he silently chuckled at your antics. “Don’t laugh at me!” You huffed.

“Okay, okay. I’ll fight you.” He says softly.

“When you say it like that, I don’t wanna fight you! I want some energy from you, Chiba!” You tell him as you prepare yourself to fight. Before you could even say anything else, he got you down on the ground quick with an anti-Koro knife under your neck. “Hey! I wasn’t ready!”

“An assassin is always on guard.” He mutters to you.

“I want a rematch!”

“Let’s not get carried away, y/n.” A few rematches later and you still lost all of them.

“Chiba! You’re too good! Come on!” You huffed. “I totally was gonna win one today!” You sat on the grass as class was coming to an end. He laughed a bit before wrapping his arms around your waist and easily picking you up. “Hey! Give me a warning next time, Chiba!”

“Class is ending, y/n. We have to get back to our next class with Koro-sensei.” He gets you right back into E Class as you mutter complaints. “I love you, you big baby.”

“I’m not a big baby!”

isogai yuuma

Isogai never seemed bothered by how you got angry often. Professor Bitch was kind of like that in a way. He was used to it. He knew you for a while too, how people made rumors about how violent you were which was a complete lie. For someone who got angry often, you couldn’t even hurt a fly sometimes. He found some entertainment in that. Isogai was definitely the y/n Tamer like Nagisa.

When he first found out about your hot tempered side, it was when you heard people making fun of E Class. Karma was supposedly at the scene as well while he watched you tell off the arrogant students. He decided to make friends with you since you joined E Class not long after Isogai himself had joined.

He never wanted to see you very burning mad and sometimes he didn't wanna deal with your hot tempered self a lot. But let's be real, he still loves you nonetheless.

"Yuu-kun!" You call out to him, using your nickname for him. You had decided to visit him at work, quickly ordering what you normally do.

Unfortunately for him, Asano and a few of his lackeys were here as well. They kept Isogai's job a secret so at least E Class and A Class weren't on full rival terms, but it didn't mean both classes were friends.

The lackeys had started to poke fun at Isogai while he was busy. You were a booth behind the A Class students, biting your tongue back from yelling at the dumb lackeys. But they just kept talking bad about Isogai and E Class. You had enough.

"Can you just shut up!? We still work just as hard as you guys do. You don't know what goes on in our lives! Don't judge a book by its cover!" You tell them.

"y/n, please calm down.." Isogai sighed whilst he placed your order on your table. "It's not worth wasting your time to say things they won't listen to."

"They're just so frustrating!" You mutter as you adjust yourself to sit properly. You started to eat a little bit while your boyfriend left to get out of his work uniform. He came back sitting across from you. "I thought you had work until 6."

"I wanted to spend some time with you. And also I need to keep you in check."

"I can handle myself!" You puff your cheeks out, causing Isogai to chuckle at your antics. "Thank you for the food.." You mutter to him softly.

"I love you too, y/n."

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plant-flwrs · 4 years ago

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Hiii, i love your writing. I was wondering if you could do a remus lupin imagine. Were its mutual pinnin but they dont know the other like them. And sirus gets tired of it and takes pollyjuice to look like remus and get you to confess🥺

under the mistletoe // remus lupin

masterlist!

a/n: oh my god i’ve been non-stop reading atyd and it is my new obsession. it’s completely canon to me now. ty for ur request! i used they/them pronouns because you didn’t specify, so i hope that’s alright <3 oh! also! im gonna try this new thing w my fics to see if they flow better that way; instead of just jumping in time i’ll put a little indicator (-). wanted to try it out, dunno if i’ll keep using it. i’m so excited for christmas and this put me in an even more christmasy mood omg

summary: Staying at Hogwarts for the holidays seemed like the best way to avoid distractions, but with the Marauders there, distractions were guaranteed. Especially when your crush on Remus proves to be incredibly distracting.

cw: underage drinking (hangover vomiting), swearing (harmless, classic Sirius things)

(8k) (haven’t written this much in so long wow i forgot i could)

----------

The Gryffindor common room was your most favorite place in Hogwarts. It was warm and comforting, and you had some of your best memories there. With just a glance around the room you could feel your entire school career in just one room.

Though, now that you were in your sixth year, it wasn’t the leisurely place it used to be.

All around you, books touched any bare surface there was. N.E.W.T.’s were sooner than you’d like, sooner than anyone liked, and you were filled with anxiety. You knew your strenuous studying was a bit soon, but you felt like you had the weight of the world on your shoulders.

You felt so stressed, in fact, that not even Lily Evans could convince you to go home for the holidays that Christmas.

“Exams are months away, Y/n!” she sighed as you fell down onto the couch beside her, narrowly returning before curfew from the library, “You ought to enjoy Christmas.”

“I will enjoy it. Here,” you said, rolling your head back and closing your eyes.

You felt sore, as if you had run a marathon, but you had been locked away in the library all day.

Part of you, the smallest part, blamed Remus Lupin for this newfound obsession. Your fellow Gryffindor, the most studious boy in your year, was the initial reason for your new studying habits. You had started going to the library in an attempt to steal glances at him, an innocent crush that you most definitely let overcome you.

Remus had always gone to the library, you knew that, but ever since your O.W.L.’s he seemed to take extra pride in his work. You couldn’t blame him for secluding himself in the library, for that was the only place on campus that it seemed his rowdy friends did not go.

“You can’t enjoy Christmas alone,” Lily tutted, pulling the massive textbook off your lap and putting it on the table in front of you.

“You’re staying for the holidays, too?”

Sirius had just bounded down the stairs from the boys dormitories, his usual mischievous smirk on his face.

“Yes, they are,” Lily answered for you, turning to look at Sirius as he hovered behind you near the stairs.

“Well, that’s lucky,” he said, acting as if he had a secret he took pride in no one else knowing.

“Why is that, Sirius?” Lily sighed, becoming annoyed.

“Remus, James, Peter, and I are staying, too,” he said, smirk turning into a boyish smile.

“You are?” you opened your eyes and turned to face him, finally.

He met your gaze and nodded excitedly, seeming to already have the Christmas spirit in him.

“So you won’t be alone!” Lily said excitedly, then turned towards Sirius with a more dull tone, “Not the best company, but at least not alone.”

Sirius scoffed in mock offence, scrunching his face up with imaginary tears as he stomped back up the stairs.

“God, that lot is so bizarre,” she groaned, turning back to you on the couch to see you dozing off.

(-)

Snow fell on the grounds of Hogwarts, and you gazed at it from a fogged up window in the library.

Lily had gone, Mary had gone, Marlene had gone, just about everyone had gone. You had never stayed at Hogwarts for the holidays before, and you knew not many people did, but you expected more than there were.

No Slytherins had stayed, which was a welcomed absence from those who did. You knew the two Hufflepuffs that remained, but only because you had classes with them in your fourth year. The Ravenclaws that stayed, there couldn’t have been more than five of them, were often holed up the in the library with you. There were the most Gryffindors, five, including you and the marauders.

You were almost surprised that James had gone through with staying; Remus had mentioned wonderful things about the Potters and the Christmases they hosted. Still, he was here, cheerful as ever.

As your eyes blurred with tiredness and the window became nearly too fogged to see through, you sighed in frustration.

You missed your family, you missed home, and you really regretted staying at school. You decided to give yourself the day off from studying. With a glance down at your watch, you saw it was nearly lunch time anyways. You had slept in and missed breakfast, coming straight to the library, and your stomach felt empty.

You made your way to the common room, wanting to drop off the heavy books you had accumulated. Mumbling the password to the portrait, you stumbled through without noticing the rowdy conversation coming towards you.

You ran right into James’ chest, stumbling back and already mumbling an apology.

“Y/n?” he asked happily, as if he had been looking for you.

“Hey, guys,” you sighed, forcing a polite smile when all you really wanted to do was collapse on the couch and sleep for days.

“Sirius told us you were staying, but I’d thought you’d changed your mind. Haven’t seen you since the holiday started!” James’s booming and joyful voice made you want to cringe away, but you couldn’t manage anything less than a small smile at his kindness.

“I’ve been in the library,” you explained, chuckling at the horrified look on three of the four faces.

“You’re worse than I’d thought,” Sirius started, cut off by a sharp elbow to the ribcage by Remus, which only seemed to encourage him.

“We can’t have that,” James finished for him, a mischievous twinkle in his eyes.

“Oi,” Remus started, casting a sympathetic smile at you as he tried to stop his friends from potentially insulting you.

“Why don’t you come have lunch with us?” Peter squeaked from behind James as he glanced at the two dark-headed boys for some sort of approval, “We were just on our way down.”

“What a great idea, Wormtail!” Sirius boomed, earning himself another elbow to the side from Remus.

You glanced nervously at the boys in front of you, trying to discern if they were setting you up for a joke or teasing you.

“You don’t have to-” Remus blurted out, his cheeks pink, “-I mean, if you’re busy with your studies. I know how hard your working-”

“Nonsense, Moony!” James smiled, levitating your bag off your shoulder and easily landing it on the floor somewhere behind him, “they have to eat!”

You chuckled, ducking your head down as James slung his arm around your shoulder and escorted you back through the portrait hole.

You felt lighter immediately. Whether it was the absence of your heavy bag, or the way the boys’ easy conversation and laughter felt so inviting and warm, you did not know.

The self-pity you had been feeling only a moment ago seemed to go, too. James kept his brotherly arm around your shoulder all the way to the Great Hall, where he split his path and sat across from you. Sirius followed you down the isle, continuing his teasing conversation with Peter. James sat between Remus and Peter, his smile never faltering. He acted as if eating lunch with his mates and their tag-along was the best thing he had ever done.

Remus was quiet, almost shy, but you knew that. You had known him your entire time at Hogwarts, and the crush you had on him seemed to last that whole time. You had seen him come out of his shell as the years went on, but he didn’t seem nearly as comfortable as when he was with his friends.

You stifled your laughter with the back of your hand, blushing slightly at Sirius’s rude joke as he bumped his shoulder into yours. You looked down at your plate, pushing around the mashed potatoes that had grown cold.

“Sirius!” Peter yelped, his eyes wide in shock as he nervously glanced to you.

Sirius had made a crude joke, you knew that, but you hadn’t heard it. You and Remus had been meeting in short bursts of eye contact and the small action alone was making your spine shiver.

You looked up from your potatoes, seeing the boys fading with laughter and delve back into their food. That was something you never understood about boys; they sat down, ate and ate until they were done, and then got to talking. You, Lily, Marlene, and Mary could talk for hours while you ate, but the boys seemed unable to do more than one thing at once.

The thought brought a fond smile to your face, and you felt something bump against your shin. Looking up from your plate, you met Remus’s eyes again.

“What’s got you smiling?” he asked, his voice kind with a teasing nature behind it.

James looked up from his plate in the middle of shoving what had to be an entire chicken breast in his mouth, and began cooing at you as your cheeks flushed.

“’M just happy you lot stayed,” you blushed, refusing to meet Remus’s eyes, “would have been dreadful without your company.”

Sirius, without missing a beat, threw his arm around your shoulders and drew you into his chest. His large hand went to your head, ruffling up your hair. You cringed away, giggling and attempting to lay your hair smooth.

Everyone’s cheers in agreeance died down, and James roped Sirius into a heated discussion about Quidditch as Peter hung onto his every word.

“‘M happy you stayed, too,” Remus mumbled from across the table, his head ducked down as a blush was creeping up the back of his neck.

You fought the urge to break the eye contact, giving him a smile so wide that your cheeks burned.

You all returned to the common room with full stomachs and wide smiles, courtesy of James, who had just announced his newest plan at getting Lily’s attention. You just finished listing off all the reasons she would hate it, and he clambered through the portrait hole with a dazed smile that a lovesick puppy would have.

You trailed behind the boys, watching them all fall onto comfortable couches and armchairs. You looked at your limp backpack indignantly, choosing instead to follow them.

You curled up in an armchair that was across a large couch occupied by James and Sirius and to the left of another armchair occupied by Peter. Peter leaned forwards to rest his elbows on his knees, setting up a new chess game for him and Remus to play. Remus sat on the ground, eyelevel with the board. He noticed you looking at him and gave you a kind smile that made you look away, blushing.

The night was spent in leisure. You had barely wanted to get up for dinner, even Sirius suggested making Peter go down to the kitchens so they wouldn’t all have to go to the hall. In the end, you all went, having just as much of a good time as you did at lunch.

You wished them a goodnight after you fell asleep watching Sirius and Remus levitating the most valuable things they could find in the room, sending Peter into anxious fits every time they pretended to loose their balance. You groggily walked up the stairs to the dormitories, leaving your homework downstairs with a satisfied sigh.

For a few moments before you fell asleep again, Remus’s brilliant and bright smile was burned behind your eyes.

(-)

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” Sirius groaned, throwing himself dramatically onto the couch with a huff.

“Shud up,” Remus groaned, falling into the armchair you had been sitting in. He could smell you on the chair, your scent floating into his nose like it was intoxicating.

“Really botched that one, mate,” James said with a chuckle, picking up a few of his Quidditch magazines off of the floor and putting them back on the coffee table, where Peter had accidentally knocked them off.

“Romance is confusing! How was I supposed to know?!” Remus groaned, lifting his head from his hands with a desperate look.

James gave him a knowing smirk, and Sirius groaned again.

“It was obvious! You always offer to walk a romantic interest home,” Sirius said, twirling his wand in his hand.

“They were just going upstairs,” Peter mumbled, seeming to agree with Remus.

“It’s alright, Moony,” James said, standing from the couch with a look of determination, “you’ve got all week to seduce them.”

“Shud up,” Remus groaned, repeating his request from earlier.

His eyes fell to the stairs you had climbed moments ago, remembering the peaceful look on your face as you slept, the adorable stretch you did once you woke up, the tired way you climbed the stairs, and that beautiful smile you gave them when you said goodnight.

Remus decided to stay in the common room for a bit longer once his friends had went upstairs, trying to force every second from the time you spent together that day into his memory permanently.

(-)

You woke up feeling more rested than you had in weeks. The sun was barely in the sky when you opened the curtains, your unusually empty room flooded with orange light. You dressed quickly, donning muggle clothes that you found incredibly comfortable.

You went down to the common room, seeing that the mess the boys had made last night was either cleaned by them or house elves. There was no sign of life in the Gryffindor tower, besides yourself, so you assumed the four were still soundly asleep upstairs.

You found your backpack, overflowing with loose papers, and shrugged it onto your shoulders. You had decided to get some work done today, seeing as your day off the day before was not scheduled.

You ate a quick breakfast in the empty hall, finding it odd and strangely discomforting to be in such a large room by yourself. It felt as if you were out past curfew.

The library was the same case. Madam Pince was not even at her desk yet, and you settled into a table by the window. You opened it a sliver, enjoying the cold winter air that seeped into the room. The sunlight warmed you, and the wind was gentle enough to not rustle your papers.

You dove into your work, feeling considerably better than yesterday, or the past month. Your muscles were loose, and the pressure you had been putting on yourself was no longer there. One night of fun proved to be harmless, and so did the marauders.

You smiled at the thought of it, at the thought of your little day with Remus. He had been so kind to you, so funny and charming. You had never liked someone as much as you liked Remus.

You found your gaze drifting out the window, looking past the castle and Hagrid’s hut and out into the Forbidden Forest. You couldn’t think of anything but the curly headed, dirty blonde boy. The way his eyes nervously darted to yours, his sheepish smile. The way he could easily make James, Sirius, and Peter fall into doubled-over laughter, almost as if good-naturedness came to him as easily as walking did.

The sun rose in the sky, and it was almost time for lunch. Even with your mind distracted, you had gotten done more work than you had expected. You decided that if the boys asked you to have lunch with them again, you wouldn’t decline.

It was as if your thoughts were read, because just as you were organizing your papers to put them away, Remus walked into the library. You fumbled a bit, realizing you smudged some fresh ink on your newly written Potions notes. You didn’t care, though, smiling widely and waving Remus over.

“Alright?” he asked groggily, rubbing his eyes as if he had just woken up.

“Yeah, you?” you couldn’t help but stare at him. His voice was deep and thick with sleep, and he pulled the sleeves of his sweater over his slender hands. He had a muggle novel tucked under his arm, and he put it on the table as he sat down across from you.

“Eh,” he started, looking at you with slight amusement, “James woke up at the crack of dawn to go to the pitch, and he woke up Sirius when he did. Sirius is a git if he gets woken up before noon.”

“That’s not a surprising piece of information,” you chuckled, setting down your papers and getting comfortable in your seat again.

“Yeah, best to stay out of the dorm when Sirius is in a mood. Peter went to ask for some extension on a paper he forgot to do,” Remus smiled fondly at his friends flaws, opening his book and propping it on his knee, “so I figured I’d come find you.”

“You found me,” you opened your ink bottle and dipped your quill into it, going over your Potions notes and fixing the smudged ink.

You were a bit disappointed by Remus’s reasons for coming to see you. Part of you had hoped he missed you, or enjoyed your presence. But the truth was that you were his only other option for company. Your chest deflated slightly as you stole a glance at him only to find him deeply invested in his book. Many conversation starters bubbled in your throat but you couldn’t bring yourself to voice any of them.

It was about an hour of silence in the library before Remus suggested lunch. He helped you pack up your things, humming under his breath as he led the way out of the library.

Lunch was soup, which you didn’t mind too much. Sirius was already at the table with James when you arrived. Remus sat next to you, across from his friends.

Sirius had his head propped up in his hand, lazily bringing soup to his mouth before dropping the spoon into the bowl with a clatter as his eyes fluttered shut. James rolled his eyes, shoving the bowl of soup away from him and wiping up the splattered mess from the table.

James eagerly dove into a cheery conversation about his solo Quidditch practice, and Remus reluctantly listened. You felt as exhausted as Sirius looked, even though you had a wonderful nights sleep. You hadn’t felt so tired until your upsetting thoughts about Remus, but now you could barely keep your eyes open. You hadn’t been sitting for more than ten minutes, your soup was barely eaten, but you just wanted to curl up in your dorm.

Peter came into the hall, filing down the row where you had Remus were sitting. He was getting close, and you stood.

“Here, Peter, have my seat,” you said, slowly standing as James’ face contorted with confusion. You could see him working out pleas for you to stay, and your heart warmed a bit.

“I’m gonna have a lay down,” you excused, not waiting for Sirius’s head to lift from his hand or for James to suggest all of you walking back together.

As you walked away, you heard Peter begin to chat about his essay extension.

(-)

Remus knew he had done something wrong. He knew it.

You had seemed happy to see him, you smiled at him, you were friendly, but at some point he said something to make you close off. He was looking forward to spending the morning in the library with you. He had made up the excuse of getting out of the dorm, knowing that with Pete and James gone and Sirius out cold, it would be fairly peaceful. Remus, however, wanted to see you.

You looked heavenly dressed in casual muggle clothes with the morning sun lighting your face. He was happy to sit with you, but you didn’t seem happy to sit with him.

He wondered if you were bothered by him and his friends. If yesterday hadn’t been as fun as he thought it was, and if you just wanted to be left alone. He felt a surge of annoyance with James for being so forward, but quickly drowned that out. It wasn’t James’s fault.

Remus stared into his bowl of soup, not listening to Pete as he complained about the essay he had to write.

James indulged Pete, listening to his complaints with sympathy as he dipped his bread into his soup. Sirius, however, could not be bothered.

He had come to attention when you left the table, watching your hunched shoulders and nervous hands pushing your hair off your face. He had even caught your sad glance over you shoulder at Remus before you finally turned to go upstairs. Sirius was thinking, he was thinking hard. He could read you and Remus like an open book. He had known you liked Remus since you started showing up to the library whenever Remus did, no matter how subtle you thought you were being.

Sirius looked at his friend, confusion knitted in his eyebrows as he hunched over his food. He gasped silently, catching James’s attention, as his eyes lit up with an idea.

(-)

For the next couple of days, it was not hard to avoid your fellow housemates. James and Sirius seemed to be sneaking off as often as they could, clutching their cloaks close to them as if they had something underneath them.

You avoided Remus, who presumably only had Pete to keep him company now, by staying in your dorm. The library wasn’t the only place you could study, and you spread your books all across Lily’s bed. You had begun to enjoy studying in your dorm, it was private and quiet, with no Madam Pince staring you down from her desk.

It wasn’t that you disliked the marauders’ company, because you didn’t. You really liked hanging out with the boys. You had just wanted to prevent any more heartache when hanging out with Remus. You had obsessed over your last interaction in the library, convincing yourself it would be best to stay away from the boy as to not attach yourself any further.

It was nearing the weekend, Christmas on the upcoming Saturday. You didn’t want to be in solitude on Christmas, but your pride prevented you from asking to hang out with the boys. You didn’t know what Sirius and James were up to, and you didn’t want to know. You didn’t feel like hanging out with Peter, because being in his presence alone made you just as anxious as he was. And Remus, Remus was an entirely different story. Just seeing Remus made your heart race unnervingly.

On Thursday night, you crept down the dormitory stairs and into the common room. You stopped and waited to hear for Peter and Remus, but it seemed they were still in their room. You were going down for an early dinner, hoping to eat quickly before everyone else came down.

You seemed to be successful, your plate was nearly cleared and there was no sign of anyone else. You were serving yourself pudding, your favorite pudding, when someone sat across from you.

You looked up. Your throat closed involuntarily, and your spoon froze on it’s way to your mouth. You straightened your back, eyes widening at the sight of him, and wiped your mouth nervously with your napkin.

“Hey, Remus,” you said, smiling politely at him as he began to dish himself food, “where are the rest of the boys?”

“Just me,” he said, his voice sounding a little higher than usual.

“Are you alright?” you watched him carefully as you noticed his posture was straighter than usual.

“Yeah,” he chuckled, looking at you now.

You looked at him, squinting your eyes. He seemed off, but you figured he could be nervous without his friends around.

“Okay,” you trailed off, returning to your pudding.

“Haven’t seen you much, recently,” he said confidently, the usual softness in his voice absent.

“I’ve just been up in my dorm,” you said, still gazing at him cautiously.

“Don’t want to spend time with Sirius, James, and I?”

You bit your lip, looking at him with a serious expression. Remus never excluded Peter when he was talking about his friends, but Sirius often did. You noted it, unsure what that could mean. Had Remus asked Sirius on advice at how to talk to you? The thought made you suppress nervous giggles.

“No, it’s not that,” you felt your cheeks warm under his blatant stare, “you know how crazy I am about the N.E.W.T.’s.”

Remus chuckled under his breath, slowly eating his pudding. This was also weird, because Remus usually devoured any food in front of him as if he was a starving animal.

“Remus, are you sure your alright?” you squinted at him, dropping your spoon and propping your chin up with your hand.

“Yes, I’m fine,” he said nonchalantly, squinting back at you.

He had remarkably less patience and ease than usual.

“Okay, well, I’m done eating. I think I’ll go back to the tower now,” you stood slowly, watching his face contort with urgency.

“Wait!” he called, standing too, “wait, come sit for a second.”

You joined him again, clearly suspicious. You wondered if he was distracting you while the boys set up a prank.

“I need to ask you something,” he whispered seriously, leaning closer to you over the table.

“What?”

“Do you fancy me?” he smirked at you, mischief in his eyes.

At first you wanted to shrink away, blush madly and sputter out lies to conceal your true feelings. But you didn’t. You kept his stare, a blank face looking into his daring one. You decided to make a guess.

“Sirius?” you said confidently, so it didn’t sound like a wild guess. You knew it was crazy. Surely, Sirius would never transfigure into his best friend to eat dinner alone with you and ask him about your feelings for him. Surely.

“How did you know!?” he asked, his voice now completely Sirius’s instead of his weird imitation of Remus’s voice.

“What!?” you questioned back, surprised that you were right, “It’s actually you, Sirius?”

Sirius’s face, well, still Remus’s face, dropped with disappointment, upset that he gave himself away.

“Yes,” he mumbled, moving his hand to tuck his hair behind his ear, only to remember Remus’s hair wasn’t that long.

“What are you playing at? How did you do this?” you motioned your hands at him, sounding more amazed than angry.

“Polyjuice Potion,” he said mischievously, his eyes meeting yours at the tone of your voice.

“That’s really advance stuff, Sirius,” you said, slightly impressed as you leaned back and crossed your arms.

“I had some help,” he said sneakily, and suddenly what he and James had been sneaking off for made sense.

“Are you two planning something? Testing out the costume on me?” you said excitedly, hoping the boys would let you in on whatever prank they had planned.

“Well, about that,” he said, rubbing the back of his neck, “you sort of were the plan.”

You looked at him, confused. It felt weird to be talking so casually with Remus, and you fought the urge to blush every time he looked at you, knowing it was actually Sirius.

“I know you fancy Remus,” Sirius said, sounding a bit guilty.

This time, you could not resist shrinking away and blushing. You looked down at your lap, feeling incredibly embarrassed.

“But,” Sirius started again, his voice oddly comforting and kind, “I know Remus likes you, too.”

Your eyes shot up to meet Sirius’s, your face becoming somehow even more flushed.

“You were trying to get me to admit it to you? That I like him?” you asked him, heart racing.

“I just wanted you to confirm it,” he said, sounding even more guilty, “I didn’t want to try and set you two up if you didn’t like him back-”

“Set us up?!” you interrupted, eyes wide.

“Yeah,” he said casually.

“How do you plan on doing that, then?” You tried to sound annoyed in an attempt to hide just how excited you were.

Sirius had waved over James immediately, who has hiding behind a pillar in the courtyard looking in on you and Sirius. The two began talking almost as animatedly as two schoolgirls stricken with an exciting prospect of romance.

You watched, lazily propping your chin on your hand as they rambled on about the ways they thought you should confront Remus.

James had been quite keen on them influencing Remus to confront you, and Sirius reckoned you ought to “grow a pair” and kiss him yourself. James was nearly affronted by the idea, insisting on a classic and romantic gesture from Remus’s behalf.

Either way, you couldn’t fight an embarrassed blush that seemed permanently glued onto your cheeks. You swallowed heavily at any mention of kissing, which was being discussed at length. You had half a mind to stop the hopeful ramblings, but James and Sirius were Remus’s best friends, they had to be somewhat right about his feelings for you.

The conversation got remarkably easier, too, once the potion had warn off and it was Sirius in front of you instead of a fake Remus.

You looked into the courtyard, enjoying the cold air lofting into the room through the open doors, when you noticed Remus and Peter entering the room. The cold air had been helping in cooling your cheeks, but at the sight of Remus’s wide and carefree smile, they warmed immediately.

“Shut up!” you mumbled harshly to the still ranting dark-haired boys in front of you, kicking them each in the shin for good measure.

They looked offended, but Sirius caught your eye and smirked once he realized why they were silenced.

“Have you guys eaten already?” Peter asked, sounding disappointed as he sat next to you and saw your empty bowl of pudding.

“Just had an early lunch,” James said merrily, moving to scoop himself another bowl of pudding after he had eaten an entire lunch while he and Sirius were talking, “but we’ll stay while you guys eat.”

You swallowed hard, looking at James with wide eyes as he quirked an eyebrow at you. You were planning on leaving the second Remus sat between James and Sirius, right across from you, but now you couldn’t be so obvious.

“Haven’t seen you in a while, Y/n,” Peter mumbled from beside you, stuffing his face with a large heaping of peas.

You looked to Remus almost automatically, only to see him looking questioningly at you. You couldn’t resist the small smile that flirted on your lips as he averted your gaze quickly.

“I can’t get much work done with you lot around,” you teased, clearing the table in front of you and resting your elbows there, “I’ve been in my dorm, most days.”

“What about for Christmas?” Peter pried curiously, “Will you leave your dorm for Christmas?”

“Of course they will!” James boomed from across the table, causing a few tired looking Ravenclaws who were just coming in to glare at him apprehensively, “Starting Christmas Eve, they won’t be able to get rid of us.”

“Oh,” you looked to him, eyebrows raised in entertainment, “I won’t?”

Remus looked between you and James with an excited smile.

“Of course not,” Sirius said for James, picking a carrot off of Peter’s plate from across the table.

“For a limited time,” James said mysteriously, “you will have the honor of becoming a temporary Marauder.”

“They what?” Peter said from his goblet of pumpkin juice, causing some to splash back in his face.

“Peter!” Sirius groaned, annoyed with the boy, “Get in the holiday spirit!”

“Don’t worry Pete, just for a limited time. The holidays are a season of extending great charity to others,” James said, talking with humor in his tone.

“Charity?” you repeated, an amused smile on your face.

“We don’t let in just anyone,” Remus said, looking only at you.

When your eyes met his, you felt all the air leave your lungs. Your jaw clenched in an attempt to gather some sort of consciousness, but all you could do was look back at Remus.

“That’s true, ‘tis a great honor,” Sirius had raised his goblet in some sort of toast, and you had barely noticed until Remus was raising his glass.

You broke the contact, finally, and sputtered for a moment before you could find your goblet on the table. You rose it, hoping to lower it quickly as you noticed a slight tremble in your hand. Remus connected his goblet with yours gently, looking at you again while you were intent on avoiding his eyes. He had some sort of knowing smile on his face, and you felt very exposed to him. It felt like he was reaching in your chest and squeezing your heart for his own pleasure, and it scared you to know you could not tell him to stop.

(-)

Christmas Eve was very celebrated amongst the boys.

So celebrated, in fact, that Sirius insisted Christmas morning was a day for hangovers.

He had brought out the firewhisky fairly early into the afternoon. James had looked at him with nervousness, but nonetheless took a heaping sip when offered a glass. You sipped casually, not feeling all too comfortable with the chaos that seemed to lurk in Sirius’s eyes.

By the time the sun was beneath the horizon, Sirius and James were dancing some sort of Irish jig on a table, and Peter was very angrily talking to himself in a mirror. You and Remus, neither of you having very much to drink, sat comfortably on a couch, watching the night unfold.

“Why aren’t you drinking with them?” you asked Remus, glancing at his full cup and tensed shoulders.

He glanced down at you, nervously biting his lip and running a hand through his hair. Oh, how you wanted to touch his hair.

“I don’t really feel like being hungover on Christmas,” he said, noticing your full cup as well, “what about you?”

“I don’t think Lily would ever forgive me if she found out I got drunk with you lot on Christmas Eve,” you teased, smiling to yourself at the fond thought of your friend.

“I miss Lily,” Remus remarked simply, bringing his cup to his lips and taking a large gulp.

“Me too,” you sighed, doing the same and hoping it would ease your nerves, “she wrote to me yesterday. She’s having a lovely Christmas. Her sister is being awful, but that’s per usual.”

You and Remus shared a knowing smile, both thinking of the complaints you had heard from Lily about her sister.

“Have you written back yet?”

“No, not yet. I was going to wait until after Christmas,” you were waiting to write Lily back so you could thank her first for the undoubtedly wonderful present she got you. You didn’t know how, but Lily Evans always gave the most thoughtful presents.

“When you do, tell her we miss her,” Remus said softly, his cheeks beginning to flush pink as he watched with a smile his friends dancing.

You nodded, ducking your head to hide a smile.

“Oi!” James yelled, stopping his dance suddenly.

You and Remus froze as he looked at the pair of you, each wearing an entertained smile. James hopped off the table with ease, as if he was not drunk out of his mind and as if the table wasn’t a good four feet off the ground.

“Come dance,” James said once he finally reached the both of you, though, only offering you his hand.

He waved his wand at a muggle radio they had in the corner, and the volume increased. Sirius smiled widely, refreshing his drink with the dwindling amount of firewhisky left. You cautiously took James’s hand, letting him spin you as you giggled.

James caught Remus’s eye, the blonde boy watching you with adoration. James pulled you close, resting one hand on your shoulder as the other held your hand, and leaned in close to your ear.

“Moony is watching you,” he slurred, sounding excited, “I reckon he’ll make a move tonight if Sirius doesn’t finish all the liquor for himself!”

James pulled away, giggling once again like a schoolgirl. You could not help his infectious laughter, your forehead falling onto his shoulder as you laughed loudly. As if on que, Remus stood and walked with determination to Sirius. He took Sirius’s goblet and downed it, smiling widely and accomplishedly afterwards. He climbed on the table with Sirius, who had long forgotten about his stolen alcohol, and began awkwardly moving his lanky body in a way that could be called dancing in the most generous of terms. This made you laugh even more, and James had to nearly fully support your weight as your knees buckled with your hard laughter.

It was shaping up to be a lovely Christmas Eve.

(-)

Christmas, as Sirius had predicted, was a morning for hangovers. You had barely glanced at your mounds of presents at the foot of your bed, instead throwing on your warmest sweater and going immediately to breakfast.

It had been decorated, as it had all week, with great care. Today, however, the tree had been alit with wonderful and delicate decorations, sparkling under the enchanted ceiling. The entire room somehow smelled of pine, and the warm feeling of a fireplace shot down your spine when you sat down.

You cradled a cup of tea, hunching over and fighting the urge to fall back asleep at the table. You couldn’t bear to look at food yet, regretting the glasses you drank once Sirius had found that second bottle of firewhisky.

There was no sign of life in the castle, besides the lovely decorations, and you found yourself grateful.

It was as if, however, that you cursed yourself the second you thought this.

“Merry Christmas, Y/n!” James shouted from the entry way of the castle, his loud voice assaulting your ears even from such a distance. Beside him, Peter, Sirius, and Remus cringed away in pain, shrinking down and walking past him into the hall.

“Bloody. Fucking. Hell,” Sirius groaned once he sat down next to you, his head hitting the table as soon as he was still.

Remus sat on the other side of you, going at once for heaping servings of the hot food. You swallowed the vomit in your throat at the sight of so much food, forcing your eyes deep into your tea. James happily sat down next to Peter on the other side of the table, patting his friend merrily on the back. Peter winced audibly, a pained look on his face.

“How are you not hungover?” you whispered once you were sure you would not vomit.

“He never gets hungover,” Remus groaned from beside you, his mouth full of beans.

“Never?” you repeated, wincing as you reached for more tea.

“Never!” James said happily, obviously enjoying his wonderful, wonderful gift.

“Oi!” Sirius groaned, his head still buried in his arms.

James smiled.

“Eating helps, really,” Remus said from beside you, glancing an earnest look at you as he wiped his mouth with the back of his hand.

“Mmmmm,” you groaned in response, ducking your head down as Sirius was doing to avoid vomiting.

“What a lovely Christmas this will be!” James said, earning a unanimous groan in response.

(-)

Getting back to the tower was a slow and painful process that included many bathroom breaks and headaches. You and Sirius had both ducked into the loo twice each to vomit, and James supposed it had something to do with climbing the stairs. Peter was limping for some reason, though you could not remember him hurting either of his legs the night before. Remus was nearly as recovered as James, just looking a bit tired.

After you were sure you had emptied your stomach of the tea you drank for breakfast, you were feeling a bit better. Your legs felt a little wobbly, and Remus must have noticed, because he offered his arm for you to steady yourself on as you walked along. Your mind was so foggy you almost had not noticed, but his strong arm beneath your fingers was enough to clear you up a little. You held him close to you, hoping the hangover was excuse enough. James gave you and encouraging smile, nodding enthusiastically. You were sure Sirius would be giving you a smirk if he wasn’t basically crawling down the halls.

Once you reached the common room, Remus had not retracted his arm. In fact, he had interlocked his hand with yours, still with your arms looped, and led you over to a couch. He sat very close to you and still did not remove himself from your grasp even as you were sitting. You felt so comfortable and warm next to him, you could not help but close your eyes and let your head fall on his shoulder.

(-)

James retreated upstairs with Peter. Peter had wanted a quick and undisturbed nap, and James returned downstairs a few moments later with his practice Quidditch robes on. Sirius had collapsed on an armchair the second he crawled into the room, and showed no indication of life as he fell into a deep sleep. James gave Remus an encouraging smile and two thumbs up, but did not dare to speak in case you weren’t asleep. Remus rolled his eyes, but was truly quite happy with the position he had found himself in.

Your arms were looped, hands intertwined, and your head rested delicately on his shoulder. He leaned his head against yours, breathing in the smell of your shampoo.

He had wanted to stay there forever.

(-)

When they all awoke, James was out of his Quidditch robes and in a thick wool sweater. He was polishing his broom with what looked like a new polishing set, perched on the armrest of a couch across from you and Remus. You had woken up when Sirius did, his loud yawns and stretches filling the room. When you lifted your head, you bumped into Remus’s head, and he woke up. Your cheek felt sore from pressing into his strong shoulder, and you looked down at you hands to see them still interlocked. You were sweaty and tired, but Remus looked down at you sleepily with complete happiness.

“Happy Christmas, you lazy bones,” James tutted like a mother would, putting down his broom and standing.

“Happy Christmas,” Remus said, smiling widely.

You sat up, removing yourself from Remus. He untangled your arms, removing his hand from yours. You felt sad at the absence, looking down at your lonely hand. Remus was looking too, and when you met his eyes he bit his bottom lip. With some slight hesitation, he wrapped his arm around your shoulder and pulled you in for a side hug. You lingered, and he made no move to pull away, so you stayed there, tucked under his arm.

“I never looked at my presents this morning,” Sirius said, standing from his chair and motioning for James to follow him.

“Neither did I,” you said to Remus only, hearing the other two retreating upstairs.

“Want me to walk you up to your dorm?” he offered, adjusting his body so he could see your face.

You uncurled from him, nodding excitedly.

You stood from the couch, walking over to the stairs. You waited for Remus, watching as he slowly stood and stretched. You leaned against the door frame, supporting yourself on your hands behind you. Remus came over to you, walking slowly with a sleepy and dazed look on his face.

“Happy Christmas,” he repeated, only to you this time.

“Happy Christmas,” you said, smiling at him as he leaned against the door frame opposite of you.

It was a narrow space, and there were only a few inches between you two, but neither of you made any movement. You wanted to go upstairs and see what your family had sent, what Lily had given you, what all your friends had given you, but you couldn’t tear yourself from the handsome boy in front of you.

Your eyes danced all over his face, admiring his curly and unkempt hair that fell into his dark and kind eyes, his sharp jaw that you wanted to run your fingers across, his soft lips.

You were both so entrance in each other, that neither of you had noticed the greenery sprouting from the door frame above you. It was mistletoe, sprouting from the wooden door frame between you and Remus. Remus noticed, his eyes darting up at it. He looked down at you, seeing you had not noticed it, and chuckled.

This seemed to snap you out of it, and you stood upright, coming closer to Remus. You looked up at the growing plant, eyes widening when you saw the red berry forming before your eyes.

“Mistletoe?” Remus chuckled, entertained as he reached up and brushed it delicately with his slender fingers.

“Is it?” you managed to say, watching his hand.

“It is,” he said, retracting his hand and bringing it to rest on your cheek.

He gently cupped your face, pulling you close to him until your chests met and neither of your backs were touching the door frame. You closed the distance, meeting his lips with urgency and desperation. You didn’t care if James thought Remus ought to kiss you, you wanted nothing more than to kiss Remus. And Remus wanted nothing more than to kiss you. His other hand came to your waist, pulling you flush against him as his hand on your cheek moved to the side of your neck. You reached up and slid your hands from his shoulders to this neck and into his hair, feeling the soft curls between your fingers as you had wanted to for so long.

Remus pulled you impossibly close to him, as if he wanted nothing to come between you, until his force was moving you to lean against the door frame. The feeling of the wood was unexpected, and you gasped into Remus’s mouth when you felt it. Remus took this as an invitation to deepen the kiss, and you allowed him, sighing softly as his tongue explored your mouth.

“Mistletoe?!”

You and Remus broke apart, his hands still on you even though your bodies were no longer touching. You both looked up the stairs, seeing James, Sirius, and Peter looking down at you.

Sirius had the most mischievous smirk you had ever seen, sure that it would make Lily’s skin crawl if she saw it. James seemed so content that you’d think he’d just been kissed and Peter anxiously twirled his fingers as he averted your eyes, obviously feeling bad for interrupting.

“Mistletoe,” Remus said, his voice husk and his lips wet. It took a lot of will power to not sigh at the sight of him, or pull him in by his collar and kiss him again. Instead, you looked up at the boys like a deer caught in headlights.

“You owe me ten galleons,” James said to Sirius, causing Sirius to groan.

“How do you know he kissed them?!” Sirius complained, digging in his robe pockets for the money.

“He didn’t, I kissed him,” you said, looking up at Remus and licking your lips nervously.

“Hah! Hand it over, James,” Sirius gloated, removing his hand from his pocket and holding it out to James.

James groaned, still a smile on his lips, and handed Sirius the money.

“You didn’t think I’d kiss them first?” Remus asked Sirius, pulling you into his chest in a loving and protective way.

“Sorry, mate,” Sirius said with no remorse in his voice, climbing down the stairs and pushing past you and Remus.

James and Peter followed him, all fiddling with some new gift they had gotten. You looked up at Remus, deciding your Christmas presents could wait until Boxing Day, and pulled him out of the door way. You fell onto the couch, Remus following you, and you fell easily into conversation with the boys. Remus wrapped an arm around you, pulling you into his chest.

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quirklessidiot · 4 years ago

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Title: ghosted [coward series au] Pairing: F!Reader x Miya Atsumu Genre: fluff, mild angst, expecting parents au

Synopsis: an alternate timeline where instead of breaking up over the phone, you break down and tell him you’re pregnant instead.

Warnings: mentions of abortion and early pregnancy

notes; probably would recommend to read the series but yall can read it as it is. also can i say this is also my favorite side story haha...and that is it, thank you for tuning in to coward, it has been one heck of a ride and yall have been so supportive ily all fr. If yall are interested send some drabbles, im accepting until eight uwu :3

read the series here! [ ss;; one, two, three, four ]

Ghosted.

Atsumu has been ghosted by his own girlfriend.

He doesn’t want to believe it, it was just so odd coming from you. He wants to ask around but you were never exactly close with anyone, he didn’t even know the name of the best friend that you’d mention from time to time or your family.

In that moment, he had the frightening realization.

He never knew you at all.

The blonde feels sick to the bone, he’s reduced to a hot mess these days. People telling him to move on, telling him that there are other better ones out there but Atsumu never wanted anyone else. It’s always been about you ever since that day he saw you.

Just you.

He feels light headed at the fact that he just lost one of the best things he had in life. That he’ll never find someone like you again, someone as patient or as loving as you.

The lump on his throat grows and he wants to yell out his frustrations in the walls of his quiet apartment but something stops him.

A phone call.

From an unknown number.

He gulps down his frustrations and shakily answers the call, ready to tell the other person to fuck off but when he hears your soft voice, all inhibitions are lost.

“Atsumu.” your usual calm voice filled his ears and he suddenly feels the weight of the world is removed from his shoulders, thank god you were okay.

“Y/N? sweetheart? Where are you?”

“Out.”

“Where outside exactly?” Miya Atsumu dryly asks, “It’s cold, you shouldn’t be out now and wandering about. Would you like me to pick you up-”

“I can’t do this anymore.” you suddenly cut him off and the line goes quiet. The blonde feels the world around him quiet down when he hears those words that he wished he heard wrong.

“What’s-what’s wrong? Y/N, are you alright?”

“I don’t know,” You mutter, “I’m just tired.”

“Tired of what exactly?”

“Of you, of us…”

“Y/N, are you saying what I think you’re saying?”

“Yes.” Your voice remained dead calm as if you just hadn’t broken his heart in a million pieces that moment, “Let’s stop this here now, Atsumu. Let’s break-up.”

“That’s…” He tries to keep the mood light, praying that this is one of your dark jokes, “That’s not funny, Y/N.”

“It’s not supposed to be since it’s not a joke.”

Your response was curt as usual and he doesn’t know whats worse, the fact that you’re breaking up over the phone or the fact that your tone remains composed.

“Y/N, don’t do this...Sweetheart don’t do this over the phone.” His tone seemed desperate at this point, he knows he sounds pathetic but he can’t help it. If begging was the only way to get you back next to him, he’d gladly do it. He’s desperate for you, he’s always been since the beginning, “I’m not stopping this until you tell me what's wrong between us, you have to give me something to work with Y/N. Is it something I did?”

“I don’t know.”

“What do you mean ya don’t know?” Atsumu started to raise his tone when he notices how unaffected you seem at the other line.Frustration slowly started to bubble up in him, the accent turning thicker as he got angrier, “Y/N ya can’t just disappear out of the blue and call me one day and tell me you want to break up! Do you think I’m some sort of fling? Some one-night stand or fuck buddies? We’ve been together for two years, Y/N. Two whole fucking years, What’s wrong? Do you not love me anymore?”

Silence filled the line that you could hear a pin drop.

Hesitance.

“Y/N?” he repeats your name, this time softer, he notices the ragged breathing on the other side of the line, something was wrong, “Y/N? What’s wrong? Please talk to me...”

“I-I don’t know.”

“Y/N?”

This was out of character, even for you.

“I don’t know what to do anymore.”

“Y/N? Sweetheart, What do you mean?” He feels weak when he hears those words, his anger slowly dissipating. You truly did sound tired on the other line, maybe it was really over. Maybe he should let you go.

Maybe he should stop being a selfish and desperate bastard, he'd only hurt you more if he continued this on.

“I…” he hears a very soft cry on the other line, “I’m pregnant.”

All he hears now is your cries and the fast beating of his heart, pregnant? You were pregnant?

“A-and its alright...It’s alright if you want to have nothing to do with the kid...I-I’ll find a way…” He hears you try to say on the other line as he grips his phone tight, was that why you ran away last week? For this? Atsumu lets out a shaky sigh as he hears the usual calm voice panicking and completely out of breath as if you’d just run a marathon, “...I-I-”

“Breath.” He cuts you off, his voice turning deadly calm.

You’re not sure if you should be scared or relieved by it.

“W-what?”

“Breathe for a moment and tell me where you are.” Atsumu grabs his coat and wallet, “I can’t let my pregnant girlfriend stay under the cold for too long. Let’s grab something to eat, yeah? Don’t pregnant women have cravings or some shit? You really like those red buns we got when we first hung out, right? Or that karaage chicken? There's a twenty four hour one nearby my place then you can have a hot bath and sleep here after, you still have your clothes with me.”

The blonde’s tone is nonchalant as if you just hadn’t dropped life-changing news moments ago.He finally hears the sniffles die down, “Aren’t you going to leave me?”

“Now why the fuck would I do that? I’ve been chasing after you since I first saw you. A kid ain’t going to scare me.” He grumbled, he wasn’t a wimp. Kids? Pft, bring it on, “Now where are ya, Y/N? I miss you and you have to bring me to your next doctor's appointment, I swear to god-”

“I’m at the park…” You breathe out, cutting him off as relief slowly spreads on your system, “Where we went on our first date.”

Atsumu feels his heart thump, well, what do you know. You had some theatrics up your sleeve too.

“Hey.” He softly calls out, as he exits his apartment and walks towards his destination, the cold not even bothering him the slightest because he was going to see you, “Wait for me there.”

“I-I will.”

“And I love you, you know that right?” Atsumu paused, the thought of having kids now was scary but if you chose to keep it, he wouldn’t mind. He’d be the best otosan and husband if you changed your mind he could be towards you and that unborn brat, “I love you too damn much, Sweetheart. So don’t ever forget me when you’re making these decisions.”

“I won’t.” He hears a loud sigh on the other line, as if a huge burden was released, “I...I love you too damn much too…”

Atsumu feels his brain short circuit as he hears those words from you out loud, a grin started to slowly make its way to his features as he started to sprint towards the park, “Look behind ya, sweetheart.” He exclaims through the phone when he finally sees your familiar figure facing him.

You turn around to face him and he sees the red nose and wet cheeks.

It was evident that you had been crying hard.

Ending the call and shoving the phone back in his pocket, he runs towards you instead and carefully tackles you into a hug.

“Please don’t scare me like that again.” He pleads, burying his face on your shoulders and seeping in your warmth, “Shit, I wouldn’t know what I’d do if you left me.”

You slowly and hesitantly hug him back with the same tightness, finally succumbing to his warmth.

This was nice.

You could get used to this.

Home, this was definitely what home felt like.

taglist [officially closed, ily all, this series would never be possible without all you people + other readers]

@fortheloveofiwaizumi ; @svtbitch ; @kiyoomile ; @lovedanii ; @juno-multifandom ; @gyubit17 ; @saeranoppa ; @nixxona ; @kyomihann @shorttstackk ; @intoomuchfandoms ; @yammmers ; @mx-minxx @itsmattsunshinehere ; @missingmystogan ; @volleybloop ; @imcravingyou ; @yams-wants-that-booty ; @liathachcapricious ; @pinknugget @seikamuzu ; @marigoldthoughts ; @sillykittt ; @baejinoffcl ; @alluring-akaashi ; @bnhasstuff ; @intheawks ; @bokuakadaily ; @agaassi ; @yams046 ; @dope-squish ; @chrisrue15 ; @vermillionwaves ; @demursv1ogs ; @just-snog-already ; @angmarwitch ; @simpingonothers ; @woo-youngs ; @cowward ; @chaelysian ; @sempiternal-amour ; @jungshookmeup ; @jovialnoise ; @karlitabi-rrito ; @iwaizluv ; @sugarandsoft ; @tspice283 ; @ohshirabu ; @syzygymai ; @volleybloop ; @oikaw-ugh ; @pockytokyo ; @differentballooncollection ; @keniloveshaikyuu ; @turquoiselace ; @playboygeniusphilanthropist ; @keijislut ; @notyourbitchboy

@misosamu @Etherynaw @ryaaaax @allysasteaparty @mikaashi @brownie0food @ph10xy @Chocolaterumble [hi, i can’t seem to tag u guys, i think you need to open your tags uwu]

#haikyuu imagines #haikyu!! fanfics #haikyuu scenarios #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu headcanons #miya atsumu x reader #miya atsumu imagine #miya atsumu scenarios #miya atsumu fanfiction #miya atsumu #haikyuu fluff #atsumu x reader #atsumu imagines #atsumu fluff #atsumu scenarios

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azucanela · 4 years ago

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Okay so i'm feeling pretty bad atm because my best friend replaced me and i need some fluffy rn. How about hcs for the reader being coldly abandoned by their previous best friend. Believing she is alone, she falls to her knees and cries outside in the middle of the rain. A moment later, she glances over to see Bakugou, Kirishima and Shinsou behind them trying their best to cover her from the rain with their jacket. Thank you♡

COMFORTING YOU AFTER A FRIENDSHIP ENDS HEADCANNONS + SCENARIOS

[ft. bakugo katuski, kirishima ejirou, shinsou hitoshi]

SUMMARY: In which you are abandoned by your closest friend and are found by the boys.

WORD COUNT: 2.7k

WARNINGS: mentions of murder, mean friends, me being violent, y/n has those main character moments in the rain its nice,

A/N: bb im so sorry that they did that,,, please know that im here if you need anything and i will fight this person :D with your permission of course.

BAKUGOU KATSUKI

your so called friend ended up ditching you

im going to throw hands literally

you end up leaving the café you have been waiting for her in, near tears, and as if it can’t get any worse, you have no ride home, so naturally, you are now walking whilst trying to keep from crying

you’re about half a mile from UA, the hill is visible in the distance and you are very relieved because you just wanna cry in your bed

then it starts to rain

so yeah it did get worse

out of frustration and the built up sadness, you just kinda start crying, coming to a stop and falling to a seat at the side of the road

you felt so alone, the one person you thought would always be around he replaced you

clearly they didn’t feel the same

meanwhile, katuski is running with his jacket above his head, cursing out the skies

and then he spots someone crying in the rain, he initially thinks nothing of it, until he realizes its you

the girl who he “begrudgingly” helped study on weekends, the one who he was up until 2AM with, even though he slept like a grandpa

now he’s cursing for a different reason, he comes over to you

he is gonna wanna kill someone when he finds out and tbh you should let him but thats just me

in the past, people have abandoned him due to his personality, and though it hurt in the moment, he got over it pretty quickly

and tbh, most of the time he had a little squad of jerks following him around so he didn’t really care abt anyone else.

Staring at the text she’d just recieved, Y/N let out a shaky breath, trying to compose herself. Her so called best friend wasn’t coming, and would never be coming again. Apparently she had better things to do than hangout with some wannabe hero. Blinking away the tears, Y/N stood making her way to the exit of the shop, she stepped outside.

She was beginning to regret ever leaving the UA campus, because at this point she’d much rather be crying in bed rather than in public. Y/N was suddenly grateful that the café was relatively close as she speedily walked down the sidewalk.

The one person she thought would be there for her through everything, through all the pain and joy and anything in between, was gone. Great.

At least it couldn’t get worse than this, she decided as she saw the UA Campus in the distance, relief flooding her as her pace quickened.

Then she saw lightning in the distance, thunder rattling in the sky, Y/N couldn’t help but wince. As water began to poor over her she paused her steps, exhaling deeply as she looked up at the sky.

Then the tears began to fall, a hand coming to her mouth to quiet the sobs escaping her as she fell to the ground, seating herself at the side of the road, Y/N felt her body shake as she tried to force herself to even out her breathing.

Meanwhile, Katsuki was cursing out the skies, he’ been on his way back from visiting his parents when it began to pour. Immediately bringing his jacket over his body to try and shield himself from the brunt of the rain as he ran through the now empty streets. Save for one shaking person on the side of the road, causing him to raise a brow at, it was pouring rain and they were just sitting there?

He slowed temporarily to try and get a better understanding of what was going on, only to realize he recognized the person. Y/N. His classmate, the one he begrudgingly tutored on the weekend, the one he cursed out when she forgot to eat, the one who kept him up until 2AM even though his bedtime was normally 9PM.

Katsuki grimaced, coming up behind her with his jacket overhead to try and shield her from the rain as he spoke, “what the hell are you doing out right now? You’re gonna get sick.”

Y/N jumped at the sudden voice behind her, though she knew it was Katsuki, she turned to see he was holding his jacket over the two of them, the red of her eyes a dead giveaway that she’d been crying. She couldn’t bring herself to speak as she looked up at him in shock. What was he doing here?

Katsuki’s face fell as his eyes scanned her for injuries, “who did this to you?” He wasn’t the best when it came to comfort, and he feared that would show as he began to interrogate her.

Blinking Y/N realized what she must’ve looked like, trying to shake off the feelings she was experiencing she spoke, “we should go.” Wiping the water from her face, she moved to stand, and Katuski moved with her, his eyes still on her face.

“Hold this side of the jacket.” He ordered, and she did as she was told, bringing one hand up to the left side of the jacket, which was now soaked in water and doing little to help. This action provided Katsuki with a freehand to put on the small of her back and push her forward rather aggressively. He lead them to a small grocery store on the street, pushing the door open.

They were dripping wet, and looking up at Katsuki, who had returned to interrogating her, Y/N couldn’t help it when more tears leaked out of her eyes and she lunged forwards to tackle him in a hug.

He quickly shut up, body stiffening momentarily before he allowed his hands to wrap around her waist and return the hug. “Thank you,” she mumbled, burying her head in his chest.

Brows furrowed, Katsuki scoffed, “yeah, yeah. Whatever.” He turned to the view the rest of the store, “pick out some food, I’ll cook you something when we get back.”

Looking up at him, her mouth gaped open, “are you serious?”

“Did I stutter, you idiot?”

kirishima ejirou

okay so

kirishima definitely is gonna hound you with questions when he finds you crying

like he cannot allow his bb to cry

not that you know you are his bb but like

it would be unmanly of him to just leave you in such a state so he does his best to comfort you.

has likely never experienced something like this so he can’t really empathize with you but he’ll try

basically tries to make you smile and laugh the entire time you are upset

contemplates talking to the girls for help, but he doesn’t know if you want others involved

instead texts them how girls like to be treated when sad but in a very vague way and tries to pass it off as some obscure tik tok trend

they go along with it, thankfully, mina has a major obsesssion though so shes upset she didn’t know about this trend

thats how kirishima accidentally started a tik tok trend

will respectfully commit a murder

respectfully

i’ll help

least likely to acc go through with murder tho

he’s going to try his best

also goes the food route, based off his studies via the “tik tok trend” and he will gladly hold you

Exiting the convenience store with a plastic bag of candy in hand, Kirishima sighed. He’d been out longer than anticipated, and it was already getting dark. The grey clouds above signaling the possibility of rain, Kirishima grimaced, he needed to get back to UA quickly.

He’d intended to have a movie night with the rest of the Bakusquad that night, and maybe even invite Y/N. He’d been trying to work up the courage to finally ask her out, but it hadn’t been going well. He didn’t feel very manly each time he chickened out, and Kaminari’s teasing didn’t help at all, escaping him was the main reason Kirishima agreed to pick up the candy that day.

Sighing, Kirishima continued to walk, though the rain came faster, pouring down onto him as he groaned in annoyance, hoping that it wouldn’t damage his snacks as he pulled his jacket off to provide himself with some cover. Though it wasn’t very helpful, it was better than nothing.

He begins to speed up, jogging slightly when he notices someone on the curb, seated. Kirishima frowns, moving behind them and bringing his jacket over them, “hey, what are you doing?” Considering how much it was raining now, and the sound of the thunder overhead, he figured the storm that was coming would only get worse. Being outside was the worst idea. And as a hero in training, he simply couldn’t allow this action.

The mysterious person turns around, and Kirishima suddenly realizes its his classmate, his frown only deepening when he sees her swollen eyes. “Kirishima? She says, confusion clear in her tone as she looks up at him, eyes wide. They knew each other fairly well, though he could be shy at times, he was fun, and nice. And of course, rather respectful during all their interactions, she liked him.

Kirishima pauses before finding himself sitting beside her in the pouring rain and allowing the water to hit him as he lowered his jacket, pulling a candy bar from his bag. “What’s wrong?” He asked, extending the candy to her. Though it would likely react poorly should she open it and the candy came in contact with the rain, it was the thought that counted.

Y/N’s mouth gaped open as she smiled sadly at him, taking the candy bar from him, “thank you.” She whispered, “it doesn’t really matter anymore, though.” She looks up at the sky, water cascading down her face as she inahles deeply.

Suddenly, Kirishima’s hand is in hers, “it’s bothering you, so obviously it matters.” He tugs her hand to get her to stand up alongside him, “and it wouldn’t be very manly of me to leave a pretty lady out in the rain.”

A laugh escaped Y/N at this, “and I could never force a handsome man like yourself to stay out in rain.” Comes her reply, “let’s go.”

She wasn’t alone. Not while she had him.

shinsou hitoshi

WELL

definitely the best at comforting someone especially with something like this

feeds you sweets because food makes everything better, will be affectionate just for this instance because he knows you just want some love during this time

the best to talk to about it tbh, he’s very good at giving advice and listening to your problems

i feel like shinsou has probably experienced something similar in the past and he’s gonna understand what you are feeling

won’t try to make you open up but you’ll want to, he has a comforting presence

very calm about it, gently speaks with you and guides your actions, makes sure you take care of yourself if you are in a really bad place

once you’ve stopped crying he’ll ask you what happened and should you tell him he’ll honestly be VERY mad

like why would someone do that to an ANGEL like YOU???

is genuinely confused and potentially in a murderous mood

and he has the quirk to get away with it

wants to go off on this person though, desperately, and should he ever run into them they are going to get a piece of his mind

a really really mean piece of his mind

Shinsou frowned as he felt a droplet of water fall onto his head, realizing that rain would likely come soon, he picked up the pace of his walk. He’d been out at the bookstore, and was suddenly grateful that he hadn’t bought anything as he watched everyone in the shopping center begin to retreat to their cars and into shops.

He watched a lightning flashed in the distance, brows furrowing at the realization that a storm was coming when thunder accompanied the sight and pouring rain soon followed. UA wasn’t far, but he didn’t really want to have to run in the rain up the hill the school had been built upon.

Turning a corner, his eyes scanned the area in search of a shop he could wait out the storm in when they fell on the figure of someone seated in the rain, no umbrella or hood to protect them from the downfall, and their body shaking.

Then he recognized the hoodie. It was his actually, and he knew exactly who he’d lent it to.

Y/N L/N. The pretty girl in the hero course who’d threatened anyone who spoke poorly of him, defending his honor even though he never asked. She was always kind to him, even when they weren’t the closest of friends. Though that had changed, the pair now talking almost daily about a variety of things, something Shinsou was grateful for.

Questions flood his mind as he removes his jacket and brings it above him, going over to her, and when he’s close enough he can hear her small sobs, barely muffled by the palm of her hand. Shinsou can’t help but feel concerned as he brings his jacket above her to shield her from the rain, “hey, let’s go.” He mumbles gently.

Y/N looks up at him, her eyes red and puffy, and if it weren’t pouring Shinsou would’ve hugged her right there. “What are you doing?” When she’d simply collapsed in the rain, her emotions overwhelming her, she hadn’t assumed Shinsou would randomly appear.

“Getting you out of the rain.” Came his response, “come on, we can wait out the storm in the café.” Shinsou would’ve extended a hand had he not be preoccupied by holding up his jacket, which was now soaking through.

Sniffing, she nodded, “yeah, you’re right.” She stands, and he follows her movements, jacket never leaving her figure as the pair makes their way to the door of the café. Y/N pushes the door open, and they both enter, allowing him to finally put the jacket above his head down, though it started soaking onto the floor.

He threw it outside, much to Y/N’s shock, “I don’t wanna dirty the floor.” Shinsou explained nonchalantly, his purple hair sticking to his forehead. “Have you eaten?”

“Sorry about your hoodie.” She mumbled, at they moved out of the way of the entrance.

Raising a brow, he extended a hand, “that didn’t answer my question.”

Y/N’s brows furrowed as she looked to his hand, tilting her head in confusion as she placed her hand into his, Shinsou gave her a small smile before leading her to the line of the café as she replied, “no. I didn’t.”

His brows draw together as she looks at her, she seems resigned, quieter than normal. “How about a muffin then? Or maybe a cupcake?” He peers into the display window, squinting at the variety of foods. “I say cupcakes,” In his experience, sugary foods always made things better, to an extent at least.

Giving him a tight lipped smile, she nodded, “sure.” He was trying. It was better than nothing if she was honest. Considering the fact that her best friend had abandoned her today, it was a nice reminder, that she wasn’t alone. She had other people, regardless of what had happened.

Shinsou’s eyes met hers as he sighed, bringing his free hand to the back of his neck, “you wanna talk about it?” He knew they’d have to address it at some point, there was no denying that she had clearly been crying, something had upset her.

Shaking her head, Y/N pulled him closer using their joined hands and brought him into a hug, “not right now.” It was an oddly intimate moment, despite the fact that they were in public.

Regardless, he pulls her tightly against him, wrapping his arms around her protectively as he responds, “alright.

A/N: if anyone ever needs to talk or anything pls know im here! my dms are always open to anyone for anything :D

anyways, remember to sleep well, eat food, and drink water!

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plus-ultra-oof · 3 years ago

Text

Break Time! | Bokuto & Kuroo | Haikyuu!! | Tickle Fic

A/N: This is one of the fastest things I’ve ever written lol. I love Bokuto and Kuroo’s friendship a lot but this could be read as Bokuroo too.

Disclaimer: Includes swearing and minor spoilers for the timeskip (Kuroo’s future plans are vaguely mentioned)

Summary: Kuroo’s working himself to death with exam season on the horizon and Bokuto has just the idea to “help.”

——————————————————

Upon a third glance at Kuroo in just a few minutes, Bokuto had determined something was wrong. He could hear him sigh and shift in his seat from where he was sat on his bed. It wasn’t in the restless way that Bokuto was feeling right now though. It was a lot more tired. He narrowed his eyes at his friend, taking in his stiff posture and tense jaw. Rubbing his eyes with one hand Kuroo scrubbed an eraser across his paper with the other, the movement far harsher than necessary. He craned his neck to read something out of a textbook and his lips pressed into a thin line as he tried to comprehend it. The near silence in the room aside from his friend’s quiet frustration was honestly freaking Bokuto out.

When he’d shown up at the other captain’s front door, he’d been ready to go get food, screw around in his backyard, and maybe see an action movie or something. They’d planned this for weeks in advance —their schedules were both pretty packed— and as far as Bokuto knew they were both really looking forward to it. He’d prepared to just mess around and have some simple fun, so he was really surprised when Kuroo opened the door with a tight frown on his lips and not at all dressed for a day out.

“Bo?” Kuroo furrowed his eyebrows as his arms came up to cross over his chest, “what are you-“ Realization took over his features and after a few mumbled curses to himself, Kuroo opened the door further and let him in. The house was the same as Bokuto remembered it: Clean, but still clearly lived in. The mild clutter was charming in its own way and Bokuto had seen it when he’d visited his friend in the past. Kuroo himself was actually the only thing that seemed different.

His hair was messier than usual somehow and the beginnings of dark circles were smudged under his eyes. Instead of his usually clean and neat clothes, he was in a ratty white t-shirt and some old looking red sweats with “Nekoma” written down the sides in faded white block letters. It wasn’t just that though, all of his apologies and attempts at conversation also seemed off as he led Bokuto up the stairs to his room. Like his heart wasn’t really in it with his mind so preoccupied.

“Sorry man, I completely forgot, my bad it’s just-“ he cut himself off with a sigh as he heavily dropped into his desk chair. Bokuto felt overwhelmed just looking at the numerous stacks of heavy books lining the desk, so of course he hadn’t protested when his friend asked for another hour to finish up. He hadn’t been excited to sit and do nothing for an hour, but even he wasn’t going to complain when the usually cool and collected guy seemed so frazzled.

So after running back down to the kitchen to grab some snacks, he’d settled down on Kuroo’s bed to wait, scrolling aimlessly through his phone to try and quell his boredom and keep his restlessness at bay for a bit.

That, of course, didn’t work for long. After maybe 50 minutes —a new record!— he started stealing glances at Kuroo over his phone and as time continued to pass he became more and more concerned. He could practically feel the stress rolling off him in waves as he flipped through another workbook, so Bokuto did the only thing he could think to do at the moment, with what little information he had on whatever was happening; He messaged Kenma.

After tapping out a simple “whats wrong with Kuroo?” he’d set his phone down, not expecting much from it. Even though he barely contacted the guy on his own, Bokuto knew Kenma was terrible at responding to anyone who wasn’t Hinata. This obviously meant his chances of getting a reply before the day ended were slim. He practically jumped to grab his phone when it lit up again, only minutes after sending the message. Pretty damn fast for Kenma of all people.

From Kozume Kenma:

entrance exams. he’s been like that all week.

Ohhhhh. That made sense. Bokuto looked over at Kuroo again, as he glared down at his calculator, a new kind of disdain burning in his eyes. Bokuto hadn’t given the exams much thought honestly, but to Kuroo they surely mattered a lot.

When Kuroo told him that he was going to be quitting Volleyball once they graduated to pursue a career in the marketing side of things, Bokuto’d both understood completely and not gotten it at all.

He’d never really know how anyone could give up something that gave him such a thrill and brought him such joy. Sure, Nekoma wasn’t exactly a powerhouse school, but Kuroo was still a damn good blocker. He surely could’ve made it onto at least a division 2 team if he tried. Still, his friend was different. He wanted something else and that was okay. What wasn’t okay was the fact that he seemed set on working himself to death for it.

To Kozume Kenma:

k im gonna fix him

This time the reply was instantaneous. A simple “good luck” that felt suspiciously like Kenma doubting him. He scoffed, looking over at Kuroo again. The guy was probably even more tired than he looked. Koutaro could definitely take him in the messed up state he was in. Then again, he was incredibly stubborn when he wanted to be.

Bokuto glanced down at his phone. He’d already gone 20 minutes over the promised hour. That plus the whole week Kenma described had to be enough time for now. Going for that long without a real break sounded insane to Bokuto, and there was no way it was healthy either.

“Hey Kuroo,” Bokuto called, sitting up and grabbing his phone after sending a final text off to Kenma (An assortment of emojis portraying his confidence and competence at the given task). When his eyes fell on Kuroo, he hadn’t moved at the sound of his name.

“Kuroo?” He tried again. Still no response. It seemed the blocker was lost in his own world of textbooks and pages on pages of meticulous notes. Bokuto practically shuddered at the sight. He didn’t know how his friend could stare at all of that for so long.

Standing and taking a few steps away from the bed landed him right behind the desk chair. He frowned. Kuroo still hadn’t even noticed him moving around. Then he reached across the desk to retrieve a different colored pen and an idea popped into his head. Bokuto, always quite the impulsive person, followed it without question.

He quietly set his phone down on the opposite side of the desk to free his other hand and then reached out and jabbed him in the ribs on both sides. The action was instantly rewarded with a jolt and a squeak from Kuroo, a clatter from his pencil when it fell from his hand, and a loud triumphant laugh from Bokuto himself. Kuroo whipped around, scowling, “What the hell, man?”

“Your hour is way up bro,” Kuroo raised an eyebrow at him and scrambled for his phone. Once he found it beneath a large stack of colorful print outs, Bokuto saw the suspicion and slight annoyance in his eyes turn into guilt.

“Shit,” he turned to actually face him and Bokuto could see the way his shoulders sagged and his hands fidgeted in his lap in a very un-Kuroo-like fashion, “I’m sorry Bo,”

Koutaro gave him a bright smile in an extra effort to assuage his guilt, “It’s no problem, we can just go now!” He exclaimed, straightening and nodding at the door. Kuroo hesitated at that but before he could say anything, Bokuto’s phone chimed from its place on the desk. It lit up for both of them to see and Kuroo’s eyes narrowed in confusion.

“Why’s Kenma texting you?” He asked. A hint of his usual smirk flashed across his face as he peered at the deadpan emoticon, familiar and characteristic of his childhood friend. Bokuto bristled at the question. Why wouldn’t Kenma text him? Sure they weren’t exactly close, but Kuroo didn’t need to look so smug about it!

“I text a lot of people!” He replied, tucking his arms to his chest petulantly, “and you were busy,” he added before he could think better of it.

Kuroo immediately deflated at the reminder of his work. The glimmer of his usual playful self vanishing as he looked back over at his collection of practice booklets and papers and whatever else was strewn across his desk. Then he bit his cheek, and Bokuto knew he was going to argue before he even forced it out.

“Bo, I should probably keep going,” Kuroo frowned, his words almost pained, as if just the idea of going back to studying hurt him. That was what really solidified everything in Bokuto’s mind, “Maybe we can-“

“Nope,” Bokuto said succinctly before launching his attack with the overwhelming energy of a hyperactive athlete who’d just sat in one place for way too long. Kuroo squirmed in place as the spiker snuck a hand up his side. He was unable to stop from giggling already, too caught off guard by the suddenness.

“W-Whahahat the fuhuhuck, Bokuto?”

Bokuto shrugged and used his other hand to scribble at his neck. He made no effort to hide his shit eating grin when his friend squeaked in response, attempting to lean away in the chair, “You’ve been doing this for wayyyy to long,” he chuckled, grin only widening when the best defense Kuroo could muster was to slap at his wrists. Weak at best, but compared to his usual struggle, it was even more lackluster for the self proclaimed provocation master, “You can barely even fight back!”

“Shuhut uhuhup- Bohoho!” Kuroo’s volume went up in slight alarm. Bokuto grabbed onto his arm, using it to pull him out of his chair while simultaneously continuing his attack on his waist. Then he sent him falling back into his bed with a gentle shove, easily maneuvering him into a semi-pinned position with a practiced grace. Now with one of his arms held firmly away from his side, Tetsuro was feeling a lot more vulnerable. The shift was evidenced in the more frantic giggling as he tried to muster enough energy to pull away from Bokuto’s playful torment.

“Don’t worry, we can get you some barbecue! It’ll fix you right up!” Bokuto exclaimed, as if he wasn’t currently digging his wriggling fingers into Kuroo’s stomach to make him shriek louder. Still, he shook his head wildly.

“Ngh- ahahah ihihi- ihihihi neheheed to stuhuDy!” He tried, his voice shooting up an octave when Bokuto decided that the dips in his hip bones were a suitable place to grab and squeeze. Damn Bokuto and his stupidly extensive knowledge of this particular weakness.

“Mmm no,” Bokuto responded, slowing his fingers to fluttery circle to let the other captain breathe, “From what I hear you’ve already done way too much of that! It’s break time!” Kuroo took in the extra air greedily. As he did, he leveled his friend with an incredulous stare.

“How did you even-?” Kuroo started before his expression dropped and his eyes darkened in realization. His gaze went back up to Bokuto’s face where he was leaning over him curiously, “Kenma,”

“Yup,” Kotarou laughed boisterously and nodded his confirmation, “This is an intervention man,” The blocker scowled and started to say something that sounded like the word “traitor” but he was quickly cut off by his own hysterical giggling. The break was over, and Bokuto had decidedly shoved his hands higher to scratch at his friend’s ribs at the sign of continued resistance.

“He- aHA shihit! Hehehe’s lying!” Kuroo yelled through his laughter, desperately trying to catch Bokuto’s wrists as his hands seemed to continue crawling their way up his torso, “Lehehehet mehe uhuhup!”

Bokuto scoffed and smirked at his panicked movements, “Not a chance,” His hands didn’t pause for a second as they avoided Kuroo’s grasp. When they honed in on the space between his top two ribs he threw his head back with a helpless cackle. Bokuto had to bite down on a fond smile at the sound, “Now come on! Just say you’re gonna stop overworking yourself and come get food with your best friend!”

“KehenmahaAh’s my behest friehehend!” Kuroo jeered defiantly, apparently still sassy despite everything. Bokuto narrowed his eyes and dug into his ribs harder, making him throw his head back with the force of his laughter.

“Rude,” If Kuroo wasn’t so busy dying, he would’ve teased Kotarou for the childish pout on his face, “but fine, your second best friend,” he corrected laboriously, as if the Nekoma student was in any place to properly respond to him.

“Gahahahah yohou’re ridihiculous!”

“Blah blah blah, let’s go get food Kurooooo!”

“I hahave to- wahahait! No no no Bo DoHON’T!” The resounding screech that Kuroo let out when Bokuto’s fingers finally made contact with the soft skin of his underarms was priceless. He fell into a fit of insane laughter as the other captain watched proudly. His hyena laugh even made an appearance, sending Bokuto himself into manic giggling as he set about driving his friend crazy. “BWAHAHAHA NOHOHO NAHA BOHOHO!”

“What was that?” He teased watching as any final hope of escape fell away, leaving Kuroo a laughing mess. His hair was skewed all of the place along with his clothes that had ridden up in his struggles. His face was bright red, from embarrassment, laughter, or both Bokuto didn’t know, but it was entertaining any way. It was also comforting to see that even in his almost catatonic pre exam state, his friend was still capable of loosing himself in something as simple as tickling.

“FIHIHINE! FINE FINE FIHIHINE!” Kuroo screamed, giving up his pride at last. Anything was worth it at this point just to stop the sensations taking over his brain. All he could think of was the way Bokuto’s deft fingers were scribbling over his underarms and how no matter how he jerked or squirmed or squeezed his arms to his sides it just wouldn’t stop. He could never handle being tickled there long and Bokuto was taking full advantage of that information, “AHAH YOHOHOU- GahHAH YOU WIHIHIN DAMNIT JUHUHUST STAHAHAP!”

Bokuto shot up from the bed, stopping to throw his arms up in a cheer. His loud shout of “HEY HEY HEY!” in victory was lost on Kuroo though. He was too busy trying to catch his breath where he laid K.O.ed on his bed. Still, when Bokuto finished celebrating and turned back to him he looked better. Still tired, but significantly less stressed out of his mind.

Even as he punched him in the shoulder in revenge, his posture had relaxed and there was a wide grin left on his face. And as the last of his giggles faded away, Bokuto was inclined to believe that it was genuine.

“Come on bro, I wanna go check out the new Rec center by the park!” Bokuto yelled, earning a raised eyebrow from Kuroo as he moved around his room, picking out new clothes for their outing. He pulled his shirt over his head and tossed it into his laundry basket before turning to face him.

“I thought you said we were getting barbecue?” He asked, amusement coloring his tone as he picked up a new shirt. Bokuto smirked.

“Both,” he replied, squeezing Kuroo’s sides as he lifted his arms to put it on. He laughed loudly, batting his hands away and shaking his head.

“Ahaha enouhough!” He giggled, taking a few shaky breaths. Then his taunting tone returned at last, “As long as you’re paying man,” His usual smirk was now secured back in its place, for better or for worse.

Then he ducked into the bathroom just in time to avoid Bokuto’s distressed groan. Rest In Peace his wallet.

Still though, he was admittedly happy that Kuroo was back to normal, even if that meant that he was back to being a stingy jerk.

#Bokuto Koutaro #Kuroo Tetsuro #ticklish!Kuroo #haikyuu! tickle fic #tickle fic #tickle #tickling #tickles #fanfic #thanks for reading

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