#like yeah sure but the writer needs to shut up about the weight good god

[sugarlesswriting]

I started reading this book while at work and like what is with authors writing fat characters? Like every girl who's thin is just described as hot and body rocking, making Mark over there want to cheat on his wife but he won't because he's faithful but he will get jealous if someone else is flirting with her. And then there's that fat freak Neal with his fatty fat fingers and fat flabby stomach, and he flew fattily across the bus and broke his chubby fat neck. But lets not forget to compare this ore's neck to the size of Neal's stomach. Yes he's dead but in the narrative his fattiness will live on because he was just SO BIG

[volleychumps]

Hello!! Can I request for Bokuto, Oikawa, Ushijima, and Kuroo to you getting hit in the face by their spike or serve and like you pass out..? tysm I love your writing sm!!!! You’re my favorite writer on this app probably

:’)) These will be written before anything significantly romantic happens and they start dating, I hope you enjoy!!

Accidental Ambush w/ Bokuto, Oikawa, Ushijima, and Kuroo

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Bokuto

“Bokuto-san, should you really be trying out a spike you’ve never tried before with full force?” 

Akaashi Keiji sighs, watching with a tired stare as the nationally-known spiker grins, gold-eyes gleaming with excitement as the owl-haired boy spins the ball in his hands for good measure. 

“Learn to live a little, Akaashi!! If I’m gonna be the bestest spiker in the world-” 

“Bestest isn’t-” 

“-then I’ve gotta have more tricks up my sleeve!” 

The banter between the two had kept both boys occupied as you entered the gym, planning to grab the sneakers you left behind from practice with the girl’s basketball team. In doing so, you eye the two as the darker haired one finally obliges to set for the over-hyped boy, causing you to pause. 

It wasn’t every day you got to see the skills of one of the top spikers in the nation up close. Realizing neither had noticed you, you hum, leaning against the wall as you think that it wouldn’t hurt to watch from a distance. 

What you didn’t expect, however, was for the ball to come hurtling in your direction, so fast and uncontrolled you hadn’t even been able to react as the weight of the ball knocks you off your feet, feeling the ground hit your back as the impact causes you to begin to lose conciousness. 

Bokuto Kotarou’s jaw drops as Akaashi’s slackens a little, both pairs of eyes widening as the last thing you hear is the sound of sneakers on the squeaky gym floor as Bokuto looks down at your limp figure in shock. The ball bounces away, leaving a trail of blood coming from out your nose. 

“Shit! Shit Shit SHIT OH MY GOD DID I KILL HER?!” 

“No, I...don’t think so.” 

“THINK? WHAT THE HELL DO YOU MEAN BY ‘THINK’, KAASHI?!”

“Yelling won’t change the fact that you just hit one of the captains of the girl’s basketball team.” 

“YOU SET THE BALL!” 

“You wanted me to set it, so techinically, you did this.” 

Bokuto’s golden eyes dim down a little, a wilt to his shoulders as he scoops you up carefully, guilt bouncing around his chest as he brushes some hair out of your face, Akaashi crossing his arms when Bokuto seems to gaze at your face for a second. 

“Um...are you gonna take her to the nurse, or is something supposed to happen-” 

“Right! Right, the nurse.” 

When you finally gain conciousness, your first reaction is to sit up quickly, groaning as soon as you did. What the hell happened? 

You blink when you’re immediately pushed back down again, but slower and gentler this time as the owl-haired boy in front of you gives you a nervous grin, golden eyes looking a tad sad as he begins to ramble. 

“You’re awake!! Do you want money? I can buy your lunch! Shoot shoot, uh...a goldfish! How about I buy you a goldfish?” 

His words are a tad difficult to process as you blink once, then twice before realizing he had been holding a warm towel to your nose, pink staining the white material as it indicates you had bled. You smile a small grin, pushing his wrist away as Bokuto rubs the back of his neck guiltily. 

“Bokuto...is it? Uh, I’m okay. Really.”  You assure him, telling the truth. Most of the pain had faded away, and you were left with a dull throb in your head. “I just really wanted to see you spike, I should’ve made myself known..”

“Really?” Bokuto’s eyes widen the slightest bit. “You wanted to see me spike?” 

“Yeah, that’s weird, right?” You laugh awkwardly, looking off to the side. “You’re one of the most talented players in our age range, right?”

Bokuto swallows, feeling heat rush to his cheeks as he sees you, slightly bloody nose and all, smile as if he hadn’t just socked you in the face with a volleyball as you openly compliment him to his face. 

The words rush out before Bokuto can think twice. “Do you...want to?”  

“Want to...see you spike?” You arch a brow, surprised as Bokuto nods brightly as he grins, putting the warm towel on your nose again as he brushes some hair out of your face to keep it from getting wet. “I can make a private showing just for you as my apology! I’d just need to get your number...and your name...”

“Y/N.” You attempt to push the towel away again, only for Bokuto to catch your hand, slowly intertwining his fingers with yours as he gives you a half-grin. 

“Whaddya say we make it a date, Y/N?” 

“Depends, are you gonna hit me again?” 

“I’ll definitely be hitting on you, that’s for sure.” 

Akaashi Keiji fights the urge to roll his eyes as he closes the door quietly to the nurses office, wondering how the hell his best friend managed to turn the situation into an opportunity to get a cute date. 

Oikawa

“Ladies, remember: if you’re gonna hit it, hit it until it breaks.” 

“Lame as hell.” 

“Iwa-chan, I’ll give you my attention in a second, okay?” 

Oikawa Tooru misses the flicked off finger in his direction as he continues to talk up his group of fans, grinning his playboy grin at all of them in the middle of the lunch period. Hanamaki coughs as he approaches the middle of the courtyard, choking back a laugh as he examines the situation. 

“Is he really showing them how to serve a volleyball like they actually care?” 

“At least he’s not talking to us.” Matsukawa shrugs, boredly watching as well. “I say it’s a win-win situation.” 

“Show us, Oikawa-Kun!” 

“Yeah, let us see your famous serve up close!” 

“Girls, girls...” Oikawa puts his finger to his lips, winking once. “Promise to keep it a secret?” 

“Hey now...he’s not actually gonna hit it, right?” Iwaizumi sits up fully, drinking his melon juice as he sees his childhood friend actually take position, causing Iwa to choke. 

“Oi, shittykawa, is that really the best-?” Iwaizumi questions through a fit of coughs, but doesn’t manage to finish his thought as Oikawa’s already running to hit the volleyball already set into the air as he hits it towards a space with no students-

or so he thought. 

Through a herd of squeals and praises, chocolate brown eyes widen as your figure enters the direct line of fire, time seeming to slow down as you manage to turn in question at the sound, only for your jaw to slacken. 

The sounds of his fans drown out to Oikawa’s ears as the ball hits you straight in the face, causing you to stumble confusedly as you feel your face go numb, pain slowly taking its’ place afterwards. The distance doesn’t allow the setter to pinpoint exactly who you are, but he begins to move without thinking. 

Oikawa is careless as he pushes aside the girls surrounding him, legs moving so fast before breaking into a run just in time to catch you from falling into the grass. He blinks once, eyes in shock at what he had just done, all to show off for some girls. 

He watches the tears prick your eyes, eyes beginning to flutter shut as his rushed thought process doesn’t realize just who he hit. 

“I-I’m so sorry, I-” 

Oikawa feels a lump grow in his throat as your lips form a simple, yet meaningful smile as the colors in your vision begin to close in on you, his panicked mind still trying to register who exactly he had harmed. 

It’s okay. Your smile seemed to have meant. 

Weren’t you mad? Shouldn’t you be angered that this stuck up pretentious playboy had nailed you right in the face with the oh-so famous serve known to make half the teams in his district tremble at the thought of it? 

“Congrats.” Oikawa feels a familiar hand clasp his shoulder to see Iwaizumi looking down at your now unconcious figure. “You just hit the school sweetheart square in the face.” 

“S-School sweetheart? Shit, wait, Y/N?!” Chocolate orbs widen with realization as his adrenaline-rushed mind finally registers. 

Iwa grins a tad sadistically as Oikawa gapes at the beauty in his arms, now slightly bruised and passed out because of his doing as the setter carefully picks you up, regret brimming his eyes. 

“The one girl in the school you wanted, and you had to hit her? Nice.” 

Ushijima

“WATCH OUT!” 

You don’t have time to do anything of the sort as you had just slid the door open to the entrance of Shiratorizawa’s volleyball club practice room just as Ushijima had nailed another practice spike, this one hitting the inner court so hard it had rebounded back out of control in another direction.

That direction just so-happening to be yours. 

The papers meant for the advisor slip out of your grasp as you try to process what had just happened, hearing the once boisterous gym drain of noise as the ball hits you square in the face. You had known of Ushijima’s scarily powerful spikes, but you had no idea the rebound back could feel like a ton of bricks. 

Ushijima seems to still in place as you faint backwards, eyes widening the tiniest fraction as the rest of the team surround your now blacked out figure, bruise forming on your nose along with a trail of blood. The powerful male slowly raises his hand to examine his palm, eyes betraying no emotion. 

He had done that...to a girl?

“I-Is she dead?” Goshiki whispers as Subaru nudges him, nodding over to a staring Ushijima as he takes in what he had done.

“Y’all are such babies.” Tendou yawns, walking over to begin to wrap your arm around his neck. “She wouldn’t die from something like a rebound, but if it had been the real thing-” 

“Shut up, you ginger.” Semi begins to take your other arm before the culprit’s voice makes him freeze in place. 

“No.” Ushijima’s steps manage to silent the team as they, excluding Tendou and Semi, all take a subconcious step back. They watch in bewilderment as Ushijima takes your unconcious figure with a gentleness they didn’t know he possessed, wrapping your arms around his neck as he lifts you into a piggy-back position. 

“I’ll take her. Continue practice.” 

Ushijima ignores the gapes and questioning stares as he walks out of the volleyball room, never had left practice early before for any reason. 

As he walks, feeling your even breaths against the back of his neck as he carries you easily to the nurse, he wonders just what he would say to you when you came to in addition to his apology. 

The stranger on his back seems to shuffle a bit, causing the ace’s steps to slow to a stop. 

“W-What...?” 

“I’m sorry, but try not to sleep. We have to make sure your head’s alright.” Ushijima says straight forwardly, blinking when you hum in agreement, still seeming to be out of it as you nuzzle your face into his neck. 

“Okay...” 

Before Ushijima can tell you not to do that, your next words make him press his lips together. 

“You’re a lot nicer than you look, you know?” You seem to slur, head lolling on his shoulder. “Sweeter too.” 

Thump.

Ushijima pauses for a few moments, beginning to walk again before stopping abruptly, grip on your legs relaxing as he feels your breathing even back out again. 

Wait. 

...thump?

Kuroo

“Kuroo, you’re hitting too hard.” 

“I don’t care!” The captain fumes as he grabs another volleyball from the basket, throwing it up to slam it across the gym angrily. “Stupid sensei! I don’t even know if I’ll be able to play in the next game if I have to take those dumb classes.” 

Kenma dodges the ball with a slight movement to his head as he doesn’t tear his gaze away from his console just as it hits the space next to his head. The setter looks up lazily as Kuroo grabs another. 

“I’m telling you, you’re-” 

Kenma’s cut off when he hits the ball again, this time not even bothering to put a spin of direction on it when it suddenly gets slammed outside a nearby open window, followed by a yell of pain. The two childhood friends exchange looks, Kenma getting to his feet with a sigh as Kuroo rushes outside. 

“I told you so.” 

Kuroo’s footsteps bring him to the point of contact, eyes widening at the sight of someone he recognizes leaning on the building for support, a hand rubbing your cheek as tears prick the corners of your eyes. 

“Shit! Are you okay?” Kuroo questions hastily as the captain’s heart beats in fear. How could he lose control of his power like that? The two friends watch, one less worried than the other, as you wave it off, laughing a little with a blush on your features. 

Kuroo breathes out the anxiety in his chest at your laugh, the corner of his mouth quirking upwards the slightest bit as you go to say something-

The smile on your face seems to fade as you lurch forward, the impact of the spiked volleyball finally processing in your body as Kuroo catches you swiftly, anxiety back in his chest. 

“Hm. Well, have fun with that.” 

“K-Kenma, what?!” 

Kuroo sighs, annoyed at his best friend as he walks off carelessly, leaving you in the hands of the captain, who looks down at you guiltily before scooping you back up in his arms and back into the empty practice room. 

When you come to, the first thing you see are the eyes of the captain, ice pack on your forehead as you realize your head had been placed in his lap, Kuroo nursing you until you had woken up. 

Startled, you sit up quickly, his forehead colliding with yours as the ice pack falls into your lap. You share a groan, and you scramble out of his hold with a redness to your cheeks that the raven-haired captain couldn’t pinpoint. 

“That couldn’t have felt good.” Kuroo frowns, a hand reaching out to touch your forehead before you turn away, causing him to arch a brow. 

“Sorry, am I making you uncomfortable?” The captain questions the victim of his doing, and you laugh a little too loudly. 

“U-Um! Nope, I’ve just got to uh- feed my shark-” 

Kuroo catches your arm before you can go, pulling you back down gently. 

“Do I need to kiss you or something to make you stay still?” 

The capain catches on as a pink hue takes over your cheeks as you do as your told, a smirk tickling the corner of his lips. 

“Y/N L/N, right?” 

“You know my name?” You squeak, only prompting Kuroo to come even closer as his feral eyes seem to keep you from running. 

“I heard through the grapevine someone of the sort had a crush on me all of last year.” 

You blanch, finding movement in your legs again as you ignore the dull throb in your head. Kuroo puts an arm on the opposite side of you, resting it on the bleacher as he leans even closer, seeming to trap you. 

“What I didn’t hear however,” 

The ice pack in your lap continued to melt. 

“Was that the girl who liked me was this cute.” 

[nicka-nell]

HQHQ Collab - First Choice

Pairing: Atsumu x reader, mention of Bokuto

Words: 6.822

Warning: mention of unnamed cheating ex-boyfriend, angst if you squint really hard, fluff, friends to lovers

Beta-reader: thank you for beta reading the fic @xmyshya

Summary: You’ve been living with your best friend for a few weeks, crying to him about your ex-boyfriend cheating on you. But Atsumu no longer wants to see you sad and offers himself as Wingman once more when he tries to set you up with his teammate.

This story is part of our HQHQ server collab with the prompt: When will I be someone’s first choice? Tell me, when? You can find the other stories here. So check out all the other wonderful writers.

“Y/n now go on and get up!” Atsumu’s loud voice wakes you up. With swollen eyes you turn to him, your hair still ruffled, left and right of you lie the crumpled handkerchiefs with which you have cried yourself quietly and secretly into sleep.

You’re tired, your head hurts, and Atsumu’s loud babbling doesn’t help your headache to settle. Reluctantly you pull your blanket over your head, but in vain. Because even before you can get used to the darkness and the warmth underneath, to the calm without the voice of the dyed blond-haired man, he pulls the coat off your body with a jerk and confronts you with the cold morning air, through the open window in your room.

“Tsumu, you idiot, give me the blanket back!” You whine, but he doesn’t even think about it. “Why does your bed look like a mess again? It’s been two months, and you’re still crying after this asshole? It’s enough with moping around.” Before he can finish his sentence, you can feel his hands curling around your ankles and how your legs were jerking forward, setting your entire body in motion.

“Tsumu what are you doing?” You scream and try to hold on to the upper edge of the bed. For a few seconds you manage to resist his tug, but you soon realize that he is stronger than you.

But Atsumu has apparently forgotten to calculate that you would let go and pulls you off the bed with so much momentum that you both land on the floor.

“Ah, Tsumu you airhead! Now my ass and feet are hurting. Why did you do this?” You want to know while you’re rubbing your butt, which you landed on a few seconds ago. Sulking, you look over to your best friend, who is also sitting on the floor, supporting his weight on hands behind his back.

“Sorry, I forgot how weak you are.” He teases you with a grin. “But you seem to be awake now, eh?”

“Yeah, awake and angry…” You quickly add to his statement and look at him with a wrinkled forehead. “Don’t look so evil. That wannabe look doesn’t suit you. I told you before, if you want to talk, I’m just a room away. No need to cry yourself to sleep.”

Even if he annoyed you earlier, you realize in his words that he’s worried about you. It’s been two months since you saw your boyfriend… No Ex-boyfriend with another girl. Just “saw them” is wrong. He had kissed her, touched her, and you were sure that if you hadn’t confronted them directly, more would have happened.

Atsumu was there for you, caught you with open arms and told you that everything would be fine. Because that’s how he always was. Back then, when the kids at school had teased you, when the girls had blasphemed you because you had always gotten along better with the boys. He was also the one who comforted you at your first lovesickness.

Ironically, you had a crush on his brother, who at the time had no thought of such trifles as love. The first time you were really in love with someone, it was Atsumu who tried to set you up with that person. Because it was none other than his volleyball teammate Suna who had twisted your head.

The fake blonde had really tried everything to make you as interesting as possible for Suna, had always invited you and Suna to ‘learn’ and then left the room for hours to leave you alone. But in the end, it didn’t work out because Suna told you he had feelings for another girl.

When your heart broke into thousands of pieces for the first time, it was Atsumu who had carefully tried to pick up all the shards and cautiously glue them back to the right place. He was always there for you. And even though you know what your heart wants, you shut yourself away from it. Because Atsumu is your best friend. The man who will always stand behind you to give you a push forward so you can finally find your happiness. Without him.

“That’s enough sulking! What do you say you come to practice with me today? Get to know my teammates and friends? Maybe there’s someone in there who piques your interest, eh?” He grins mischievously and wiggles his eyebrows before he straightens up and stretches his hand forward to help you up.

“Mhm… You’re not gonna leave me alone before I say yes anyway, are you?” You mumble as he pulls your body upward.

He still grins as he nods and lets go of your hand just to bring it to your hair. “But before that… you go take a shower and make sure that this nest on your head becomes the normal beautiful hair you actually have. All right?” He laughs as he pulls a scrap of a handkerchief out of your hair.

Oh God, how embarrassing you think and at the same moment you have to laugh. No matter what you look like, even if you are wrinkled, with greasy hair, mustard stains on your top and swollen eyes, Atsumu still likes you. After all, he sees you as a buddy.

“Well, I guess… I’m gonna get ready. Can you make breakfast, Tsumu?”

“Are you nuts? There is no more time for breakfast. I can heat the last slice of pizza from last night’s movie.”

“Oh, you’ll be such a good husband someday, Tsumu.” You answer him sarcastically as you shake your head and pass Atsumu.

“Sure, and you eventually become a good wife Y/n.” He calls after you, but you already lift your middle finger and slam the door behind you with a smile on your face. “Tze… Tsumu you idiot.”

The knife slices the butter with ease as Atsumu greases the butter on a toasted slice of bread to put your favorite cold cuts on top. Because he was just joking. Your first meal shouldn’t be a piece of old pizza.

When you’re with Atsumu, you forget all the things that made you sad. You’re happy and glad to have such a good friend by your side. And even though you said it sarcastically earlier, you still meant it like this, that he would make a woman very happy. Just with the thought of him and another woman, you feel a short sting in your chest, but you are sure that deep down you have to think about your ex-boyfriend and that you still miss him.

“Ready to go! Give me that slice of pizza or I’ll eat your friends.” You shout out to Atsumu as you enter the hallway through the doorstep. Once in there, you can hear his muffled voice calling out to you while his voice comes closer and closer.

It is only a second where Atsumu stops in the doorway, looks at you before he continues his walk and pushes the slice of bread and an apple into your hand. “I can’t let you smell like tuna and garlic the first time you met my friends.”

With rolling eyes you take the bread from him, push it into your mouth before putting on your thin cardigan and place the apple in your jacket pocket. According to your phone, the weather today is anything but cool and gray.

But just as you want to pull your zipper up, you feel something heavy landing on your shoulders, looking confused from left to right before your gaze sweeps up from the yellow fabric on your shoulders to the fake blond-haired man.

You don’t need words, your gaze is filled with the question of why he gave you his jacket. But again he just lay down his arms against his hips, grins casually. “Well, you’re with me or not? Not that they’ll think you’re a paparazzo at the gym entrance and not let you in.”

With the words ‘you’re with me,’ your heart gives a beat. “Don’t you think your friends will think we’re together, Tsumu? That this is more such a friend-girlfriend thing?”

The entire car ride is quiet, but it’s not an unpleasant silence. Only the radio rattles quietly, while Atsumu complains about the careless drivers or cyclists, and that there is never a parking space in front of the gym.

“Ah, don’t talk such nonsense. You can tell we’re just friends, you dummy.” Another bang, no stab, making your chest heavier. “Sure… right.” You just mumble quietly. So quietly that Atsumu cannot understand it as you breathe in the fine fragrance of his harsh deodorizer as you walk past him and leave the flat.

You have to admit you’re a little nervous standing outside the hall with Atsumu. You can hear voices from inside. Probably his friends. As if Atsumu understood your feelings, he puts his arm over your shoulder to give you more security, and enters the room freshener smelling hall with you.

It doesn’t take long for all eyes to be on you until the first person beckons Atsumu and the next one goes on you. A boy with orange hair that you remember very well. Atsumu’s school team had a game against him. They lost and Atsumu was talking to you for weeks about how he wanted to play with this little boy sometime.

Behind him stands a dark-haired man, hands in the pockets of his jacket, while he lingers in place, watching you only from a distance. That should be Sakusa. The guy Atsumu always talks about, how clean and special he is when it comes to hygiene.

Just when you want to turn to Hinata again, as he is still waving towards you, another man runs towards you at an incredible speed, shaking your hand vigorously with sparkling eyes. Your whole body is shaking, you’re getting headaches, but somehow you find his overactive anticipation cute.

“Hey, hey, hey! I‘m Bokuto Koutarou! I’m a super ace and I’m really successful!” He grins proudly, which makes you giggle. Of course he is. After all, he plays in the same team as Atsumu.

Yet Bokuto does not remain long in his proud posture. His shoulders collapse after a few seconds, while his gaze wanders to Atsumu. “Hey, Tsum-Tsum, why didn’t you tell me you were coming with your girlfriend today?” He wants to know from the fake blonde one.

Irritated, you look over to Bokuto, wanting to clear up the misunderstanding as the voice of an older man interrupts you. “Miya, the next time you bring someone, please report this to me first. Now, warm up and let’s start training.” The man you consider to be the coach says to Atsumu, who nods in agreement before pointing at a bench where you should sit, before he goes to warm up with Bokuto and Hinata.

Although you talk little to people, you’re not bored watching them train. It pleases you to see how everyone is with full passion. From time to time the man who introduced you as Bokuto grins at you, waving a little awkwardly before Atsumu admonishes him and turns his attention away from you. He’s kind of cute.

“Oh Tsumu…” you mumble quietly while chuckling unconsciously as you watch Atsumu reprimand Bokuto for being so easily distracted, and how Bokuto lets his shoulders drop apologetically.

“You seem to have had a lot of fun today, eh?” The question is rhetorical, because of course you did. He recognized that in your face. With the rest of yesterday’s pizza and a salad with smoked tofu, he sits down next to you at the dinner table.

The training passes, and your attention on Bokuto grows. First a few glimpses you exchange, then words and sentences, up to such long dialogues that he completely forgets his break and is called back to the playing field by Atsumu to finally finish the training.

“You could have introduced me to your friends earlier. Especially Bokuto. He’s kind of cuddly.” You babble while you are in your thoughts about the cheerful man.

“So, so… Bokuto, huh? Looks like I got a new job as a wingman, eh? Give me a few days to figure something out. Operation Lovebirds begins.” His eyes are narrow and playful, while his face is only a few inches away from yours.

As Atsumu had said, a few days pass. Days in which you were always at his training, always with the yellow jacket which makes you feel much safer and more comfortable. Days when you often talk to Bokuto during breaks.

Your heart gives a quick blow as the warmth of his breath hits your lips. From the excitement? Excitement to see Bokuto again soon, right? With an unnaturally bright laugh, you slap him on the shoulder, turn to the pizza, before you both go to your own rooms and get ready for bed.

Atsumu has the idea to take Bokuto to Osamu’s store, like he’s doing almost every Saturday to eat together. Sometimes the other teammates come with him, but this time he will only ask Bokuto.

He wants to lure him to the store and write to him shortly before, so that he has no time. You would sit already in the store and then pretend after a few minutes as if you had randomly noticed Bokuto. You could eat, talk and maybe even exchange your numbers. The idea was perfect.

As agreed, you sit at a table near the kitchen, looking at the menu while watching Bokuto from the corner of your eye. How he reaches for his cell phone and how his cheerful look is slowly getting sad, because he probably reads the message from Atsumu that he will not come.

You consider going straight to him, but your vibrating phone prevents you from it. A message from Atsumu with the words ‘Mission lovebirds can begin’. An unconscious grin spreads across your face as you read the message before a voice makes you shrink.

“Has someone also dumped you?” You hear Bokuto’s sad voice and make a brief shout when you see him standing right next to you. “Bokuto!”

You laugh a lot, seem to have a lot of fun and get along great. At least that’s what Atsumu can see from his brother’s kitchen. Because of course he didn’t want to miss out on seeing if you two really come along well with each other.

“Ah! I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you! Uh… mind if I sit here?” He asks clumsily, pointing to the free chair opposite of you. Nodding, you invite him to sit down before quickly putting your phone in a pocket and start talking to Bokuto.

“Why are you here, Tsumu?” His brother’s voice makes him look away from you.

“Eh? What do you mean, Samu? I want to see if I’m successful with my mission.”

“Sure, stop lying to yourself.” Osamu quietly talks to his twin while he continues to prepare the Onigiri for his guests. But his brother doesn’t answer him, just looks out of the round kitchen window at the table where you talk to Bokuto with a smile on your face.

“You know I didn’t reject Y/n back then because I had no interest in girls. So finally get some balls in your pants.” With a full plate of Onigiri, Osamu crosses his twin, passes the plate to his server at the counter, before he enters the kitchen without a word.

“If she’s happy, I’m happy for her too. Why don’t you understand, Samu?” He now turns his gaze away from you, instead looking at the unfinished rice that Osamu had prepared for the next order. It annoys him that his brother has to address this topic again and again. It’s not up to Atsumu to decide what you want. After all, it’s up to you.

“So? So you don’t mind if I invite her on a date if it doesn’t work out with Bokuto? As long as she’s happy, it shouldn’t be a problem for me to taste her lips.” He deliberately tries to provoke his brother, and for a split second he sees Atsumu twitching his eyes, his cheekbones sticking out from his clenched teeth before looking his brother in the eye.

“If that’s what makes her happy. Then make her happy, damn it, understand?”

“What the hell, what’s wrong with you, Tsumu!” His brother yells at him, furiously stomping to him and grabbing him by his collar. He expected such an answer, but not this flat, indifferent response, which is supposed to hide Atsumu’s feelings.

Atsumu also grabs his twin by the collar, pushes him away from himself and continues the scramble. Again and again he tries to explain to him it is not Osamu’s problem and he should not interfere in his things and anew Osamu tries to convince him to finally listen to his feelings. Plates fall over, knives that lay on the work surface as the voice of the server stops the two men.

“Eh… I’m sorry, but at table four, the lady was asking what was in the spring drink because of her allergies.” Both let off from each other while Atsumu’s steps carry him quickly back to the round window to look at your table. Because he’s irritated that you’re asking that question.

The fake blond man hardly notices the voices of the two men in the kitchen. His heart suddenly beats restlessly. A young girl your age sat next to you and Bokuto. Atsumu’s plan to set you up with Bokuto seems to be failing.

“Nobody ditched me, Bokuto. Actually, I just wanted to drop by and leave Osamu a nice greeting when it becomes a bit quieter here. But it always seems to be full here.” You lie because you wouldn’t even have come here without this plan from Atsumu.

He feels bad that a small part of him hopes Bokuto finds the other girl interesting, but Atsumu quickly talks himself up that he just wants you to be happy.

With a quick beating heart you hope that Bokuto does not see through your lie, but when he smiles at you, you are sure that he believes you.

“Oh sure, right! If you know one Miya brother, you automatically have the other on your back, don’t you? Especially when you’re so close.” He grins, and his words remind you of the incident in the gym. There, Bokuto said something similar. He wrongly portrayed you as girlfriend and friend, which was certainly due to Atsumu’s jacket. And just as you were about to correct him there, their trainer babbled something into the room.

You definitely need to clarify that you two are just friends, otherwise you can’t ask Bokuto for his number. Just friends…

“Uh Bokuto? I think there’s been a misunderstanding. Tsumu and I-”

“Y/n? Oh my God, is that you?”

Again, someone interrupts you. This time not Atsumu’s coach or Atsumu, but a person you haven’t seen for ages. Your old school friend, who was with you at the same club and with whom you really got along well.

Because of your ex-boyfriend, your paths somehow separated, but you’re thrilled to see her now. “Oh Mei, is it you? You’ve really changed, wow.” You smile at her before you greet her and sit down again.

“I don’t want to bother you guys, and I’m sure that’s rude, but is it okay if I join you? If I annoy you, I’ll leave!”

Mostly you’re just here to get a date with Bokuto, but sending her away now would be too suspicious. For a moment you think about how to best handle this situation, but Bokuto takes the decision off you by inviting her to join you and just stay as long as she wants.

You talk partly to Mei, partly to Bokuto for a while when you check if Atsumu has written anything to you. You’re surprised he hasn’t asked you how the date goes. Is he on a date right now himself?

“Y/n? Did you hear?” Mei’s voice gets you out of your mind again, before you look at her absent-minded. “I have to go now, but… I was really happy to see you again and I hope we can repeat that soon. And I was also pleased to meet you Bokuto.” She adds, before she smiles at you both and goes to the counter to pay her bill and leave the bar.

Just when Bokuto wants to say something, his phone rings and he apologizes to you for a moment. You take the opportunity to write to Atsumu, ask him if you should take some Onigiri with you from his brother’s shop and hope for a hint if he had a date. Because if he doesn’t want some Onigiri, he sure is having dinner with another woman.

Two minutes go by, four… Ten minutes until Bokuto comes back in, and you feel your phone vibrating at the same moment. A simple “No, I’ve already eaten.” is his answer. An answer that suddenly makes you feel so weird.

“I’m so sorry I kept you waiting. Akaashi, my best friend, called me. I have to see him. Is it okay if we postpone our meeting for another time? So… I mean this random meeting.” He smiles embarrassed, and scratches the back of his head as he puts his jacket around his shoulders and shoves the chair back to the table.

“Oh hm? Sure. I would be happy to meet you again Bokuto!” You answer him enthusiastically, even if you’re still on Atsumu’s date in your mind. Did he really go out with a girl? Why do you not know her? Why didn’t he tell you?

“Perfect! So, I’ll see you at practice tomorrow?”

“Sure, I’ll be there.”

“Then let’s talk about some meetings during my break. I’ll go to Samu and pay the bill for us.”

“Wa-!” You want to stop him, pay your own bill but Bokuto already stamps away from you and knocks on the kitchen door to lure Osamu out and pay.

He doesn’t know how fast he ran to be home before you. Good thing he didn’t tell you about the shortcut, or you’d have run into each other. Fully sweaty, he jumps into the shower, trying to get the smell of Osamu’s kitchen out of his hair as he hears your voice dull from the hallway in the bathroom.

Together you leave the restaurant, but then go your separate ways. Although this is not the first time you walk this path, even though you don’t need twenty minutes on the way, it seems like an eternity to you. Absorbed in your thoughts, you kick a round stone along the sidewalk, burying your hands in your trouser pockets while watching it roll. The long gray road matching gray walls on the sidewalk, no car to see. Everything is dreary and you feel odd, but also happy at the same time. After all, Bokuto seems as interested in you as you are in him. You can quickly overlook the fact that Atsumu is probably on his own date right now.

“Tsumu? Are you home airhead?”

Hissing, he shakes his head, rubs his towel through his wet hair, ties it around his hip and glances into the mirror before he goes out.

“Tsumu! Put some damn clothes on!”

“I’m also pleased to see you. Got my clothes in the bedroom. Don’t worry, I’ll put something on. But first, how was your date?” The question was unnecessary. Of course he knew, because he was there, watching you. But you don’t know that.

Atsumu studies how you dance on your tiptoes, how you swing your body forward and backward, and tap your lower lip. You always do that when you’re nervous. But before he can even give another thought to you, your body moves forward in his direction.

Just a few seconds pass when your soft skin lies on his, your arms wrap around his neck and you hug him. Atsumu stops as if petrified. Because his heart beats fast, your body so close to his triggers so much in him.

Carefully, he pushes you away from his chest, hoping you didn’t hear his raging heart. Yet, your arms remain on his neck, your warmth on him, although this on his chest slowly fades.

Lovingly you look at him, a look that gives him an unknown sting. An expression that you would probably turn to a big brother, otherwise he cannot interpret it. But he cannot look away from your warm eyes. Those bright, happy eyes that captivate him.

“The date was really great and tomorrow at the training we want to make a new one! Bokuto is such an incredibly great guy, and he is so funny. He made me laugh so many times and it’s sweet how emotional he always is and ah! He is really fine. Thank you for introducing him to me.”

Silently you look each other in the eyes, speak with your eyes instead of words. Subconsciously, your fingers move, gently stroking his neck up and down, while your sugar-sweet laugh makes Atsumu even crazier.

His body acts on its own as it bends forward, coming to a halt just in front of your face. But his mind quickly catches up with his body, for his words wander down your cheek to your ears as he whispers to you quietly that he is happy for you.

“So mission complete, eh?” With a mischievous grin, he tries to distract you from his previous action, patting on your shoulders with his hands before he walks past you and strolls towards his room door.

“I’m gonna put some clothes on. You should take a shower and get some sleep. You stink and need your beauty sleep for Bokuto tomorrow.”

“Haha, very funny! I love you too, you idiot.”

Days go by when you talk to Bokuto a lot. At training, to the detriment of everyone else, eating ice cream after training or just sitting around in the park and doing nothing. You get along well, laugh a lot, talk a lot about his buddies - Akaashi and Atsumu. After your dates you always tell Atsumu how much fun you had and are sure that you deafen his ears with your Bokuto-talk.

Words that come so easily out of your lips, for they are meant amicably. Words that are so easy to understand, but leave a bitter heavy feeling in his heart.

Today you both sit on a wall in the park again, fooling around like good friends. For a moment your shoulders brush against each other, when Bokuto twitches and stares embarrassed down at you. You too feel your body getting more restless, out of balance as you look into his golden yellow eyes. Both of you are silent, always opening your mouth to say something, but then close it again.

“So, eh… Do you… remember our first random meeting? In Osamu’s store?” Bumpy, he tries to find the right words, starts playing with the moss growing between the grooves of the stone wall.

Your chest suddenly stops moving. Out of panic you hold your breath because you are afraid that he has found out that Atsumu is behind this coupling action.

“I was wondering if… Well, there was your school friend there, and I was wondering if maybe you could… could give me her number?”

“Her number?” You realize how anger slowly boils in you, how an unpleasant feeling rages in your body and you suddenly feel so uncomfortable and stupid. With a bitter hiss you laugh up, turn your face away from Bokuto so that he cannot see your sparkling eyes. Eyes that don’t sparkle with joy, no. Eyes that sparkle with tingling tears and leave small wet spots, like those of rain, on the stone wall below you.

Of course he wanted her number, of course he did. After all, it was always like this. Whether it was Osamu or Suna, your ex boyfriend or any other man you found cute or attractive. You were always the second choice. You were always good as a friend, but not good enough as a girlfriend. There was always another who came before you, who had taken the place that you had so longingly aspired to. It was always like this.

So why did you think things should be different with Bokuto right now? Did you really think there was a man who had only you in his mind? A man who adores you as much as you do him?

“Why all the dates Bokuto? Why did you invite me to all those dates, get my hopes up if you only wanted my friend’s number, anyway? Why...? Never mind, forget it!” You sniff and jump off the wall to get out of here as soon as possible. Only Bokuto remains, sitting on the wall in confusion, trying to understand your last words.

With his cell phone in his hand, Atsumu scrolls through your messages, through your enthusiastic and joyful words about Bokuto while lying on the couch, the free hand behind his head. On the table is the last bit of a spinach-garlic pizza he ordered shortly after you went on your date with Bokuto. His thumb stops at a note in which you jokingly wrote to him that you also love him when he teased you with your crush on Bokuto. Words that hurt more every day, the longer you stay at Atsumu’s flat.

“Get your hopes up? H- Hey, Y/n wait!” He calls you, but your silhouette gets smaller and smaller. You’re not thinking of turning in his direction again.

His gaze is focused on his cell phone, the thumb still on that one message as a new message covers it. Irritated, he looks at the name of his teammate, who sends him one message after the other. Although he hasn’t read the messages yet, he has a bad feeling. He doesn’t know if it’s worry or something else, but he must think of you directly as he opens the messages with shaky fingers and straightens up on the sofa.

>> Tsumu-Tsumu! Get on your phone! I think I screwed up! I thought Y/n is your girlfriend and today something weird happened, and! I screwed up, man. Tell her I- <<

Atsumu is still reading Bokuto’s incoming messages, can hardly keep up with them when the loud banging of the front door makes him startled. As if he has just been caught in something forbidden, he throws his cell phone in panic behind the couch and looks in the direction of the living room door in which you suddenly stand.

Your eyes are red, nose runny, and your words come to him only as a loud sob. In him everything hurts at this sight of you.

“Tsumu!” You sniff and want to make a step forward to your best friend, but Atsumu is faster. He takes you in his arms as you press your head against his warm chest. His fingertips glide slowly through your hair, calming you while his grip around your waist becomes firmer.

“It’s okay, I’m here.” His words that softly kiss your ears calm you down. He knows exactly that there is no point in questioning you now, because you are still too busy collecting yourself again. So he just keeps silent, caresses your head and listens to you as your sniffing gets less and less, your fast, hasty breathing gets calmer and calmer.

“You want to tell me what happened?” His muscular arm loosens easily from your waist, his hand stroking you, now raises your head and makes you look at him. With a loving smile, he wipes away your tears, puts his arms on your shoulders and waits for your answer.

Hard you breathe out, try to pull yourself together, but your voice remains shaky.

“Bokuto… He just wanted her number… He didn’t care about me.” You notice how your voice becomes unclear again, begins to tremble more and your sniffing is again to take over your voice. But Atsumu’s thumb, which caresses your shoulders, calms you down again and you try to spell your words back into clear sentences.

“He wasn’t interested in me. At least not so… Tsumu, it’s like that every time. Men always fall in love with other women. I’m always just the third wheel. Am I that ugly? Am I so unattractive that every man sees me as a buddy? Tsumu… When will I be someone’s first choice? Tell me, when?”

Your eyes glittering with tears, search for his eyes. His heart breaks with the sad look you give him. And although the answer to your question is on his lips, he would like to scream it out of himself, yet a big lump sticks to his neck and keeps him silent.

“Tsumu when?” Is the only thing that comes out of you broken, now that not even your best friend can give you an answer to that question.

It was probably his fault you’re so sad now. Because Bokuto didn’t mention that school friend of yours once. He probably only said that because he thought you were Atsumu’s girlfriend and he didn’t want to destroy the friendship of the two men.

It was Atsumu’s fault that when he introduced you to his team, he didn’t make it right that you weren’t his girlfriend. The fake blond had not done this on purpose. His words just didn’t want to come out of him back then. Only later he had understood why he had tried to make his friends believe that you are his girlfriend.

He’d have to answer his cell phone, read Bokuto’s messages to be one hundred percent sure he wasn’t serious about your school friend, but his body isn’t moving. Actually, he can’t move anyway, because you clenched your hands into fists and clutched them into his shirt.

Atsumu should set it right. But in him, Osamu’s voice pushes forward. The words Atsumu wanted to deny. ‘You’re in love with her… Stop lying to yourself… Finally, get some balls in your pants.’

Not even your best friend can answer your question. How could he if he met with others every time you were with Bokuto? But even though it hurts that Bokuto rejected you, it hurts more that Atsumu doesn’t give you an answer.

With a sad sigh, you push his hands off your shoulders and set your legs in motion to go to your bedroom and be alone. But you can’t take many steps, because Atsumu holds you to your wrist just to turn you back to him.

Slowly, without strength and without joy, you look up to him. In his face, which shows so many emotions at once, yet he tries to hide them all from you. You notice how he struggles with his words, not knowing how to begin. His grip on your arm gets tighter. It almost hurts, but you say nothing.

“You… You have always been… my first choice.” He says hesitantly, in such an uncertain tone which is unlikely for him. His words are so quiet that you don’t understand them, just look at him questioning.

“Y/n, you have always been and always will be my first choice. Shit, I know I’m gonna ruin our friendship with this, but I can’t do this anymore. I’m selfish, yes, I know. I didn’t correct the statement when Bokuto said that you were my girlfriend because I didn’t want to see you with someone else who would just hurt you again. Y/n I can’t see you sad anymore. I don’t want to see you like this anymore. It just doesn’t work anymore. Ever since you’ve began living here, swinging your sweet little ass around my apartment, eating with me, spending evenings, and almost all days, I can’t think of anything but seeing you as more than just a buddy. Do you understand what I’m trying to tell you? Shit, you airhead, I love you.”

His words become clearer and clearer, on the contrary to his expression. Then, as his tone becomes firmer, his gaze becomes more anxious. And now you understand. You always wanted the perfect boyfriend. Wanted to have a man by your side who loves you, who Atsumu gets along with since he is your best friend and had never noticed that he was always your second choice.

You always wanted someone who liked your friends, who understood you, and that person was always at your side. You knew why Bokuto’s words didn’t hurt you as much as Atsumu’s silence a few minutes earlier. You knew why you enjoyed wearing Atsumu’s jacket, and you knew why it didn’t bother you that Atsumu had not corrected the statement, and so the rumor arose that you two were a couple. Also you knew why you wanted to convince yourself that Atsumu met other women to not feel bad about going out with one of his friends. You knew, but you never wanted to face it. Because like Atsumu, you were afraid of losing the person you needed most.

You open your mouth soundlessly. If you say nothing now, you are sure that the man in front of you will immediately lose his temper with excitement and fear.

Although you have said the words many times, your heart is racing like crazy, your belly is tingling and your chest is almost painfully contracting. You’re nervous, nervous like when you had to introduce yourself to the big class full of people.

“I love you too, you idio-” Before you can finish your sentence, the warm lips of Atsumu, which lie gently on yours silence your last words. Full of pleasure you give a quiet whimper, trying to calm your loud throbbing heart in vain. Because your body burns, trembles, is numb and awake at the same time. Your thoughts are going crazy.

Atsumu also gives a relieved sigh, almost as if a huge load has fallen from his shoulders. His arms quickly wrap around your cheeks, stroking your face while his lips open a little and you feel his wet tongue on your mouth. You have the feeling that your body has just gotten warmer, reducing the last distance between you and giving off a gasp as you also open your mouth slightly to allow him to enter. His hand, which stroked your cheek earlier, seeks its way to the back of your head to bury itself in your hair and pull your head back a bit to kiss you better.

For a moment your tongues dance together, your bodies almost link as you interrupt your kiss and look into Atsumu’s excited face. His cheeks are reddish, lips slightly puffed up from your kiss, while his breath lands warm on your body.

“What’s the matter Y/n?” He whispers hoarsely, the expression slightly playful. But you just look at him with a slightly silly grin.

“Did you eat garlic, Tsumu?”

For a moment he looks at you, as if a fuse blew through him. He’s thinking about what you meant by that, before he starts sulking while stretching his head backwards, so that he’s looking at the ceiling.

“Ah shit, if I had known I’d tell you that I love you, that we would be kissing, I would have bitten into a rose and not into a pizza with extra garlic.”

Laughing, you put your head on his chest, looking up at him while he continues to stare at you sulking. “Is there still a slice, bunny?”

“One piece, but it’s already bitten, babe.” He grins and reminds you of all the nights you two sat on the sofa watching series and arguing about who gets the last piece of food. Once Atsumu had licked the last piece and thus reserved it for himself, sometimes you were faster. You were acting like toddlers, but you were having an incredible time. You just had fun with him, always.

“Your tongue was watching if all my teeth were still in my mouth a few seconds ago. Do you think it bothers me that the pizza piece is bitten?”

“Guess not. But give your sexy boyfriend a last stinky kiss. Okay?” He smirks and sharpens his lips playfully to tease you and brings his arms around your body so that you can’t escape. Only so you press his lips away from you, laughing until Atsumu finally gives you a fleeting kiss and you act as if you faint and lean against his chest.

Your loud laughter resounds through the room and your hands do not let go of the other until you are quiet and enjoy the moment in silence.

“I love you Y/n. You, my first choice.” He whispers to you as he gives you one last kiss on your crown.

[amjustagirl]

Summary: She may mean the world to Iwaizumi Hajime but at the end of the day, Oikawa Tooru is his star. 

AO3 Link here

Sequel: Broken Compass

She used to think the universe intended for her to literally  crash into one Iwaizumi Hajime. 

One of her first assignments as a writer for one of the country’s top sports magazines was to cover the Japanese volleyball team’s season, and despite constant reminders from her editors  not  to screw this up because the men’s volleyball team is crazy popular these days, she manages to trip over her own feet and knock not just herself, but the newly minted team trainer to the ground. 

When she lifts her head from the ground, the first thing that hits her mind is -  goodness, he’s hot  -  he’s a veritable god among men, all sinewy muscles and sunkissed skin, and she can’t bring herself to speak as he carefully checks her once over for any signs of injury. ‘Are you alright?’ he asks her, and she nods dumbly as he pulls her to her feet and waves her off with a warm smile. The heat from his hands lingers on her skin long after she goes to bed that night. 

They meet again at the next match. He remembers her name, she gives him a friendly wave. Then at the next match, she cheekily asks for his comments and he huffs a laugh as he directs her to the team’s PR manager. By the end of the season, she works up the courage to ask him out for coffee, and he says yes . 

 Iwaizumi Hajime is everything she dreamt of in a partner - kind, caring, steady, his feet firmly planted on the ground. He always wraps his arm around her to pull her close when they walk along the edge of the road, and indulges her pleas for an extra cuddle – ‘ the last one, I promise! ’ - every morning when he leaves for work. They exchange long text messages late into the night when either of them are on the road, and nag each other for working too hard. When they lay in bed at night, he whispers promises filled with love against her skin, tells her he can trace the constellations in her eyes. 

It makes it so easy for her to close her eyes and believe that their love is written in the stars, so a year later when he asks her to marry him, she doesn’t hesitate to jump into his arms and say yes . The weight of the silver band he slips on her finger grounds her with his love, and her heart is full. 

She can’t stop feeling like a thief who’s snatched the sun from the sky. 

Oikawa Tooru is to be his best man of course. 

She knows who he is, she’s covered the sport long enough to have heard about him - the prodigious setter from Miyagi who never made it once to Nationals despite his obvious talent (an exquisitely crafted  katana  is, after all, no match for the brute force of a cannon), who spit in the face of fate and chased his dreams to sunnier lands. 

Iwaizumi has always been awfully fond of regaling her with stories of Oikawa, so much so that she thinks she can piece together their relationship - childhood friends turned longtime teammates, the long suffering ace and the monstrously brilliant setter. She watches his face soften uncharacteristically when he reads news about his old friend winning a match, and hardens when Oikawa whines loudly during their video calls about his bruises and sore knee. She can’t help but think Iwaizumi must have been like Jupiter, a god in his own right, drawn into orbit around Oikawa, a star burning over-bright. 

She knows they remain best friends despite their separation by whole continents, keeping in contact via video calls and text messages, playing hopscotch with the time difference. They certainly look like it when they greet each other at the airport, Oikawa trilling a playful ‘ Iwa-channn’ and Iwaizumi grunting at him to ‘shut up, they’re in public, dumbass!’, exchanging back slaps so loud it makes her wince. 

‘You must be the poor fiancee’, Oikawa gives her an exaggerated leer as he stands before her, hands on hips. ‘What did Iwa-chan drug you with to get you to marry him? Do you know he snores like a monster in his sleep? You know you can back out before the wedding right? Blink once if you’re ok, and twice if you’re not - and I’ll help you escape from him.’

Before she can respond to that frankly impertinent speech, Iwaizumi roars ‘Shut-up, Shittykawa’, tackling him into a headlock and wrestling him off into their car. She stifles a laugh as they spend the rest of the ride to Oikawa’s hotel room bickering back and forth. 

‘How did you manage to pack so much luggage for a two week stay, you vain piece of crap!’

‘I care about my looks and grooming - unlike some of us who skulk around in clothes they’ve worn since high school!’ 

 ‘Vainpot.’

 ‘Beast.’ 

 ‘Piece of shit’ 

 ‘Meanie’

Iwaizumi alternates between grunting and growling at Oikawa’s nonsense but his eyes are shining (so bright that she can see stars) and Oikawa’s retorts are punctuated with smiles that are impossibly wide. She thinks to herself it’ll be good for Iwaizumi to have Oikawa around.

Oikawa starts to call her ‘ Chibi-chan  ’ especially when Hajime is around to be annoyed by it – she admits she’s short, but not  that  short, it’s just that he spends most of his time surrounded by literal  giants  - and develops an irritating habit of ambushing her with quizzes about Hajime's likes and dislikes. 

'Favourite food?' 

'Agedashi tofu.' 

'Favourite movie?' 

 'Godzilla.’ 

After a few rounds of these pop quizzes, she looks at him like he's sprouted a second head. ‘Seriously, Oikawa-san, we're getting married in less than two weeks. Do you seriously think I wouldn't know the most obvious things about my own fiancé?'  

'Don't frown, Chibi-chan, you'll grow wrinkles and look old', he sing songs at her. 'I'm just making sure you're worthy of Iwa-chan's love!' 

'Stop bullying my fiancée, Shittykawa, or I'll beat you up so bad you can't move'. Iwaizumi rubs lazy circles against her back, and she leans against him comfortably. 

'Aww Iwa-chan, once a bone head, always a bone head’, Oikawa says, scrunching his face into a mock-sniff. ‘Say, Chibi-chan, do you know Iwa-chan would beat me up ‘til I let go all the cicadas we caught, but if they died, he would cry?' 

‘Are you calling me a crybaby, Shittykawa’, Iwaizumi growls dangerously, simmering down only when she coos at him, ‘that’s so cute, you must have been such a sweet child’. 

Then, sensing that her presence is probably stopping the boys from catching up fully, she shoos them out of the apartment on the premise that they should get some fresh air and cool off but really so they can get some much needed time together. ‘ And stop fighting’ , she calls after them, making good use of the quiet to busy herself with wedding preparations. 

When Iwaizumi finally returns home late that night, he finds her asleep on the couch, and with a soft smile he curls up around her. ‘Hajime?’ she breathes, nuzzling her nose into his neck, and he has to bite back the urge to cover her face with kisses, tightening his hold on her instead.  

‘I’m back’, he whispers, his breath warm against her neck. ‘Sorry I was out so long’. 

‘It’s fine’, she mumbles sleepily. ‘Did you guys have fun?’

‘Yeah - we went for dinner and then Oikawa dragged me to at least five different bakeries to find the perfect milk bread before he was willing to go for drinks’, he complains. ‘And he made me promise to go for drinks with Issei and Hanamaki tomorrow afternoon before we meet with the wedding coordinator’.

‘Mm’, she hums absently. ‘Oikawa seemed a little on edge earlier. I’m glad he calmed down and had fun with you’. 

Iwaizumi frowns into her hair, thinking back to Oikawa’s inexplicable needling of her earlier. ‘Sweetheart, if Oikawa is irritating you, I'll make him stop’. 

‘It’s fine’, she says, with a little more force than she intended, waving away the concerned look he gives her. ‘He’s your best friend, Hajime. I think he's just feeling a little insecure. You should spend more time with him while you still can’. 

He grins and kisses her warmly. ‘You’re too good to me. What did I do to deserve you?’ 

‘Because the universe willed that I love you’, she answers, as if it were the most obvious thing on earth. 

But Oikawa manages to find a way to wreck her well made plans.   

Iwaizumi finds her in the kitchen, back turned towards him, and the slam of the dishes on the counter makes him wince. ‘I’m sorry, sweetheart’, he tells her, wincing when she shrugs off his hand. 

'You skipped our appointment with our wedding coordinator', she hisses, whirling around to face him. ‘But that’s not the worst of it - do you know how scared I was when you didn’t pick up my calls? I thought you got  hurt  or heaven forbid - got run over by a car and died,  Hajime!’

‘I’m sorry’, he repeats, scratching the back of his neck sheepishly. 'I got engrossed in catching up with Hanamaki and Issei, and Oikawa stole my phone so I lost track of time. I kicked his ass for it, you could've heard him whining about it from outer space’. He slyly slides an arm around her waist, resisting her attempts to pull away as he buries his nose in her hair.  ‘I'll make it up to you, I promise'. 

'Make sure you do', she huffs, leaning into his warmth. ‘And what was Oikawa’s reason for stealing your phone?’ 

‘You know Shittykawa, he probably thought he was being cute. I’ll make him apologise,’ Hajime replies, pressing his nose into the crook of her neck. 

She relaxes a fraction, breathing in his familiar scent - fresh linen and pine and  home, but that doesn't ease the knot of something  -  she can't quite put her finger on what it is just yet - weighing down in her chest. 

True to his word, Iwaizumi drags Oikawa by his ear to lunch with them the next day, not letting go until he apologises to her with an appropriately chastened expression on his face. ‘I’m sorry, Chibi-chan, I shan’t do it again’, he tells her contritely, but when Iwaizumi’s back is turned, he shoots her a puckish grin brimming with mischief that makes her toes curl. 

She ignores him, and lets herself be drawn into the flow of their conversation - Oikawa complaining incessantly about Ushijima Wakatoshi and Kageyama Tobio whom she’s met many times in the past few months and he shoots her dirty looks when she archly tells him that she thinks they’re lovely men, Iwaizumi getting on Oikawa’s case again for not eating enough, for not sleeping enough, barely able to restrain himself from violence when Oikawa responds with a trilled ‘  Iwa-chan, you sound like my mother ’.  

The conversation meanders off to their Seijoh teammates she’s not terribly familiar with, so she’s caught off guard when Oikawa abruptly turns to her with shit-eating grin and asks innocently ‘Say, Chibi-chan, what about Iwa-chan caught your eye?’

‘Have you looked at him?’ she says, playfully nudging a blushing Iwaizumi with her elbow. ‘He’s built like a god.’

Oikawa’s smile turns sickly sweet, showing far too much teeth. ‘In that case, I’m surprised you didn’t go for one of the volleyball players instead. Or was Iwa-chan your last attempt? You’re twenty-five this year, after all.’ 

A glance in Iwaizumi’s direction shows her exactly what she expects - first, his mouth drops open in a wide-eyed, open mouthed gape, then fury burns white hot across his face, and she has to grab his hand before he causes a scene by throwing himself bodily across the table to strangle the smirk off Oikawa’s face. ‘I can fight my own battles’, she mouths at him, willing him to stay in his seat, her hand still pressed firmly against his.  

‘Well, you did ask me what first attracted me to Hajime, and I didn’t lie - I was really drawn by his looks’. 

 She inhales and lets herself be drawn back to the warmth of the memory of tumbling head first into Iwaizumi’s arms, and exhales to look squarely at Oikawa. ‘But then I fell for his kindness, his steadfastness, his patience - and when he told me he loved me, I felt as if the universe had handed me the sun, the moon and the stars’.    

Her answer must have touched Oikawa’s shrivelled little heart, she thinks to herself, because something  in his eyes shutters and a look of respect streaks across his face. ‘Well said, Chibi-chan, well said’, he says begrudgingly. ‘Iwa-chan is lucky to have you’. 

The rest of lunch passes without incident, and when she and Iwaizumi are finally back home, he corners her as she’s about to go to bed and asks quietly - ‘Sweetheart, did you really mean all of that?’  

‘Of course I do. I love you, Hajime. Do you need me to count the ways?’ 

‘Maybe’, he responds playfully, circling his arms around her as she pulls him to bed. She lies in his embrace, ear pressed to his chest and falls asleep to the steady thrum of his heartbeat, the ebb and flow of his breath, the rise and fall of his chest.

When Iwaizumi calls out that he’ll be gone to the bar down the street for an hour or two to vet Oikawa’s best man speech, she certainly did not expect him to burst back into their flat with Oikawa held bridal style in his arms. It would have been a comical sight - Oikawa’s bulky frame dwarfing even Iwaizumi, legs looking ludicrously long dangling over Iwaizumi’s arms - but for the frantic expression of Iwaizumi’s face and the desperate way Oikawa clings to Iwaizumi’s neck. 

‘Idiot bumped his knee while doing shots’, Iwaizumi explains to her distractedly, as he settles Oikawa onto their couch. ‘I don’t think it’s serious, but I’ll take him to the doctor in the morning to check him out just in case. Brought him to our place since it’s closer than his hotel room, and I can keep an eye on him overnight’. 

She hands him an ice pack. ‘Why don’t you two take our bed, and I’ll take the couch? He’ll be more comfortable that way, and you can watch over him at night.’

‘Are you sure?’ Iwaizumi frowns, and she nods, pushing him towards his friend while she turns to fetch a set of spare pyjamas for their unexpected guest. Iwaizumi lifts Oikawa to their bed and together, they strip him of his clothes and, mindful of his knee, gingerly slide him into clean clothes. 

‘Iwa-chan’, she hears the lanky setter whine as she makes to leave the room to bring an extra ice pack. Turning her head, she catches a glimpse of Hajime bending over Oikawa’s form. She’s not sure if it’s a trick of the light, but she  swears she saw Iwaizumi brush his fingers against Oikawa’s forehead with a quiet tenderness he’s only ever shown to her, tucking his hair behind his ears. For some reason, it makes her heart clench. 

She’s gathering the discarded clothes up from the floor whilst Iwaizumi’s in the shower, when Oikawa shoots his hand out to grab her wrist. ‘I’m sorry’, he tells her, a plaintive note in his voice.  ‘I tore it up – I should never have tried to tell him.’

‘What?’ She gives him a bewildered stare. ‘What are you talking about?’ 

‘Iwa-chan’, he slurs, and she can smell the alcohol on his breath as she moves closer to him to catch his words. ‘He got mad with me, madder than I’ve ever seen him before.’

‘You mean Hajime? Don’t worry, I’ll make sure he doesn’t stay mad with you, whatever it is you’ve done.’

He shakes his head. ‘I’m sorry’, he manages to say, and starts to cry. She flounders, unsure whether to comfort him herself or call for Hajime to deal with him (because she’s not stupid, it’s painfully obvious he resents her), but the look in his eyes is so heartbreakingly vulnerable that she can't bring herself to leave him alone even for a minute, so she sits next to him on the bed, rubbing a soothing hand against his back while he soaks her sleeve with hot tears. ‘You’re drunk and injured, Oikawa-san. You should rest’, she murmurs, easing him back against his pillow when his sobs cease and he seems to calm down. 

As she bends down again to pick up his clothes, he gives a cry of alarm and tries to grab her wrist again, almost flipping himself off the bed. Hearing the commotion, Iwaizumi rushes into the room, hair still wet from his shower, barking loudly ‘you idiot’, forcing Oikawa to lie back down onto the bed. She backs out of the room, leaving Hajime to comfort his sobbing friend. 

 She doesn’t think too much about Oikawa’s strange words, mentally writing it off as another one of his odd little quirks. But as she’s folding up his pants, a stack of torn papers falls out of its pocket, and she thinks she recognises the words ‘Iwa-chan’ scribbled all over it. Though she knows it’s wrong to invade his privacy – especially when he’s in no position to defend it, she can’t help but be curious, reasoning to herself that it must be his best man’s speech, she should at least vet through it once before the wedding. 

It isn’t hard to piece the scraps of paper together, the tears uneven, as if made in a fit of panic or rage. It is, as she thought, Oikawa’s best man speech, and it starts out as expected, with well wishes to Iwaizumi and her. But as she continues reading, running her finger over each word, etched so harshly into each page that the ink bleeds, it becomes evident that that isn’t the only thing Oikawa meant to say. 

‘I know it’s too late, but I love you, Iwa-chan’, she reads with growing horror on the very last page, a suspicious water stain next to these words. Mind whirling, unable to process what she’s just read, she sits at the kitchen table reading and re-reading his words until her vision starts to blur. 

 ‘There are times I wonder if I chose wrong, if I should have held fast to you, the other half of my soul rather than going off to fight in hopeless wars, because I should have known you won’t always be waiting for me to come home. But I will always love you - like the moon loves the sun, even if I can only watch you from afar, so full of light’. 

She should be  furious  – she should head straight to Oikawa and scream and shout and stamp her foot at him, because how dare he say these things  now  when he’s had  forever  to say them to Iwaizumi before she even came into the picture – how dare  he wait until she and Iwaizumi are less than ten days away from being wed. But she doesn’t, because deep inside her, she understands. 

How can she begrudge his love when they love the same man?  

‘Sweetheart’, she faintly hears Iwaizumi say, squinting in the light as he emerges from the dark bedroom. ‘Is everything alright?’ he asks, his voice heavy with concern when he catches sight of her tear stained face.

She wants to tell him that everything’s just fine – but his gaze shifts to the torn papers in her trembling hands and she knows immediately everything is not fine at all when he looks back at her with guilt and anguish branded on his face. 

‘Did you know?’ she asks, hating the way her voice starts to break. 

‘He told me just now’, he tells her heavily, dropping into the seat across her, his hands cradling his head. 

‘Do you love him?’ she demands, ignoring the sob that’s threatening to tear itself out of her chest. 

He looks up at her. There are tears in his eyes. 

‘Yes’, he admits. ‘I don’t want to, but I do’. 

His words knock the oxygen from her lungs, leaving her with a crater in her chest. He loves  Oikawa Tooru, this beautiful, brilliant, broken boy, incandescent with the light of a thousand stars. 

Where does that leave her? 

(Stranded in the dust, abandoned in the dark)  

She suddenly feels as if she’s trapped in her own skin, a vise that’s far, far too tight, burning with the need to turn herself inside out. ‘I need to go’, she manages to spit out, stumbling over her feet. He stands in alarm, reaching towards her but she slaps his hand away. ‘Don’t touch me’, she hisses, grabbing her wallet and phone through a haze of tears. 

‘Where are you going to go?’ he demands, barring the door with his large frame. ‘It’s late, it’s not safe.’

‘Anywhere that’s not here’, she snarls, trying to shoulder her way through. ‘Let me go, Hajime – I can’t stay here, please, let me go!’ She slams her fists against his chest, collapsing to the floor at his feet when she realises it’s impossible to break through the immovable force that is Iwaizumi Hajime. 

‘Let me go somewhere that isn’t here’, she begs him, hiccupping through her tears. ‘You’re hurting me more by making me stay here with him’. 

He sinks to his knees to cup her face in his hands. ‘I’m sorry’, he sobs. ‘I couldn’t bear it if I lose you too’. 

She doesn’t have the heart to tell him he already has ( because she can’t stay, it hurts, it hurts, it hurts), and when her stillness convinces him it’s safe to turn his back to her for a second, she slips through the door and disappears into the night. She hears him shout her name, hears the anguish in his voice, but she doesn’t stop running until she’s safely ensconced in a nearby hotel room.  

Her phone keeps buzzing through the night. ‘Iwaizumi Hajime ’, it reads,  ‘Iwaizumi Hajime’, flashes on her screen, again and again. She tries her best to ignore it, turning her phone on to silent mode, leaving it face down on the dresser but she can’t - her ears still echoing with the heart wrenching panic in his voice. So she rolls over to her phone and sends him a text – ‘ I’m fine, go to bed, you have a doctor’s appointment with Oikawa to worry about tomorrow morning’  – quickly switching it off before he can flood her inbox with desperate calls and texts. 

She tries her best to fall asleep, but she ends up lying awake, counting the cracks in the ceiling. The air in the room is far, far too still, and she feels like she’s suffocating, buried alive from the sand and dirt and earth pouring into the cavity in her chest. Against her better judgment, she uncorks the cheap spirits in the hotel minibar and pours herself shots, one after another, until she drops off to sleep with a single thought swirling around her head. 

The universe isn’t fair - because first it gave her Hajime, then it took him away. 

It is noon when she wakes, sunlight streaming mercilessly into the room. She sits up with a groan, rubbing a hand across her face. For a second, she wonders where she is, the monochrome sheets so different from the cheerful patterns she uses in their room, before reality  slams into her like a comet to her chest. 

Right. That happened .  

She can scream and cry and try to scratch the face of fate but it won’t change matters. Hiding away from the world isn’t going to make the cruel joke that is her love life go away, so she grits her teeth and steels herself, washing her face and paying the bill before heading home (though if she’s honest with herself, she’s not sure if it’ll be  home for much longer). 

She prays to god or whatever deity there is out there (not the universe, it has a funny way of throwing  shit her way) that Iwaizumi wouldn’t be home, but whatever it is, it’s definitely not listening because Iwaizumi opens the front door while she’s still struggling with her keys. It takes just one look at him for the pain in her chest to make its presence felt again.  

‘How’s Oikawa’s knee?’ she casually inquires, edging around him to slip into the flat. Oikawa doesn’t seem to be around, so she lets herself relax just an inch. 

‘It’s fine’, he responds, his eyes never leaving her face. ‘Just needs some rest’. 

‘That’s good’, she says absently, heading straight for the kitchen, ignoring him as he follows her steps. ‘Have you eaten?’ she asks, pulling leftover rice and dashi stock out of the fridge. He nods dumbly as she heats them both up to assemble two bowls of Ochazuke . Her heart may be broken, but her stomach certainly isn’t, and she’s not about to let herself wither away. He looks at her dumbly as she slides his bowl at him, and neither of them says a word until she leans back in her chair, satisfied with her meal. 

‘Are we going to talk?’ he asks her confusedly.  

‘About last night? What is there left to talk about?’ she replies, keeping her composure firm. ‘The wedding’s off obviously, so we need to inform all our vendors and guests as soon as possible. I think I should be the one to move out of the flat – ‘

He cuts her off frantically – ‘What? Why would we call off our wedding? I still love you, and you still love me, don’t you?’

She gapes at him incredulously. ‘Hajime, you told me last night that you love Oikawa. How is our marriage going to work if you love someone else?’ 

‘But I love you’, he says, his voice cracking. ‘Isn’t that enough?’ 

No it isn’t, and she’s shaking her head because it isn’t enough, it’s never going to be enough, because he may love her but he’s in love with him – has been since they were little boys with stars in their eyes. And his shoulders shake and it’s his turn to cry because  he loves her, he really does, he knows greed is a sin but he wants both him and her, and he wishes that it could be enough. 

 ‘I’ve seen the way you look at him, and I’ve seen the way he looks at you’, she tells him, eyes dry, but there’s a tremble in her voice that she can’t hide - because she’s so stupid, she should have figured this out long before she dug out her heart and handed it to him - but then again maybe she didn’t because she was blinded by staring too long at the sun. 

‘You will grow to resent me if I keep him from you and besides, how could  I possibly compare?’  

Because Oikawa Tooru, blessed with innate brilliance and cursed with a penchant for self-immolation, burns brighter than a thousand stars. 

‘I’m sorry’, he tells her, rounding the table to drop to his knees before her, the look in his eyes so heartbreakingly sad that she has to choke back a sob. ‘You meant the world to me’, he whispers brokenly as he buries his face in her lap. 

‘I know’, she answers him – and gods, her heart is screaming and it hurts - but she loves him so much she knows it’s only right to let him go. ‘But the world will move on, and you need to chase the stars while you still have them in your sight’. 

At this, he lets out a quiet cry, and this time she gives in and joins him, her tears soaking his hair. He wraps his arms around her as she presses kisses into his skin and they stay that way for a while, their limbs entwined, because it finally dawns on both of them that this is it  - it truly is the end of them.

The sun may set and the moon may rise, but the stars - they burn bright in the sky. 

Her love for him should die (from earth to earth, ashes to ashes, dust to dust) – but it doesn’t.  

She packs her life into cardboard boxes and shifts into her sister’s flat. Iwaizumi doesn’t allow her to pay for the cancellation of their wedding, takes all responsibility for informing their guests that the wedding’s off - he says it’s his fault after all, and she doesn’t resist, knowing it’s his way of trying to make amends.   

His face crumples and he tries to refuse her when she returns his ring, but she insists - because it doesn’t feel right, she can’t seem to smile when the silver band catches the sun's light. He doesn’t tell her he keeps it in a box beside his bed, and opens it from time to time.

Oikawa manages to weasel her sister’s address out of Iwaizumi and appears on her doorstep the day before he’s due to return to Argentina with a bushel of white lilies in his arms. 

‘Wait!’ he cries, catching the door with his foot as she tries to slam it into his face, cursing the reflexes of a professional athlete. ‘I won’t take too much of your time’, he promises, and she folds her arms, glaring at him expectantly. 

‘I’m sorry. I’ve treated you and Hajime terribly, haven’t I’, he asks her shamefacedly. 

‘You have’, she tells him coldly, because she desperately wants to blame him for everything bad that's come her way but when he hangs his head, she can’t help but soften her tone. ‘But I understand, Oikawa. How could I blame you when I love the same man?’ 

‘I don’t deserve your kindness’, he responds quietly, after a pause. 

‘But you have it’, she tells him. ‘So live and be happy, for his and my sake’. 

When he leaves, she closes the door and sinks to the floor, burying her nose in his offering of lilies. Its scent is cloying sweet, but she can only taste the bitterness of ash in her mouth.  

A year later, and she’s back covering the Japanese men’s volleyball season when she runs into one Iwaizumi Hajime again. 

He is the first to speak, asking her a genial ‘how are you’, to which she replies ‘fine’, though she really means - ‘I may be wounded, but I am still standing on my feet’. But Iwaizumi understands -  he always does , and they stay silent for a while. 

She picks up the courage to ask after Oikawa, and she knows he’s trying his best not to light up as he tells her that though he’s back in Argentina, they’re pursuing a long distance relationship. In turn, she tells him about her new boyfriend, ruefully mentioning that though she tried to stay clear of volleyball boys, Akaashi Keiji not only used to play volleyball in high school, but is the best friend (and former setter) of Bokuto Koutaro, national team player and self-proclaimed ace. He laughs at that - but she does not mention it is a relationship born out of the heartbreak reflected in both of their eyes.

‘Are you alright?’ he asks her before they part. It’s ironic because these are the first words he’s ever said to her, but she swallows the memory and this time she responds truthfully.

‘It’s a work in progress and I’m getting there, one day at a time’.  

They exchange bittersweet smiles.

It’s enough for now.

[ithinkilikeit-reactions]

Ateez “S/O boosts their self esteem”

Ateez Masterlist                                            Group Masterlist

A/N: We always talk about them boosting us up. I wanna do the same

Hongjoong: 

It wasn’t that the members had rejected the new song fully. But they also weren’t completely feeling it, Hongjoong really couldn’t blame them, he wasn’t feeling it either. He had just put a lot of hard work into something, for nothing (in his opinion) and you could tell it was bothering him. It had rattled his confidence, not only because of their responses but his own. 

“You need to snap out of it, love.” You said, hearing his thousandth sigh as he tried to fix whatever was wrong in the song. Your hands moved over his shoulders and down his chest as you hugged him from behind. “It’s easier said than done.” Hongjoong remarked, resting his head against yours. It hurt you to see him down on his confidence. 

“What if I peaked?” You couldn’t help but laugh at his words, but you could tell he was serious. You moved around to sit in front of him, just to make sure he was looking in your eyes and could see you were being sincere. “Hongjoong, you’re 22 years old. You have not peaked. You are an amazing producer and song writer and just because one song wasn’t well liked among your members doesn’t mean you’re bad at what you do. Kim Hongjoong you are amazing, so I want you to shake this off.”  Your tone was almost scolding, making him laugh and he grabbed your hands.

“Thank you, I needed that.” 

Seonghwa: 

It was a habbit that at the end of the week you would catch up on some of Ateez’s content. You liked to stay updated, you liked to stay in the loop with Seonghwa’s achievements because you were incredibly proud of him. Seeing him performing on stage always made you giddy and smile from ear to ear. 

“Please tell me you’re not watching our performance from last night.” Seonghwa said, walking into your room and hearing the oh so familiar song. “Of course I am. I always do this at the end of the week, catch up you know.” He shook his head at your response, taking off his jacket and gradually changing into his pj’s to join you. “What?” You asked, questioning his response. “Nothing.” He shook his head, jumping into bed with you and looking at your screen. You simply stared at him in confusion.

“It’s nothing, I swear.” He said, shrugging it off but you knew better. “It’s not nothing, what’s wrong with me watching your stuff?” You asked and he sighed, laying flat on his back and staring at your ceiling. “I just feel like who I am on stage vs. who I am here is different. You might end up liking the other guy more.” It was a valid fear, but one he should have known better when it came to you. “Who you are on stage and who you are here are the same person. Just different sides. I love both equally.” You said, moving to hover over him. Seonghwa laughed, hiding his face behind his hands only for you to pry them away again. 

“I guess we can keep watching stuff back then.” 

Yunho: 

Yunho was an idol first and a model second, however much he wanted to deny it. With his height, broad shoulders, long legs, arms, beautiful hands and beautiful face, he was made for fashion magazines. But he denied it heavily, even when the photographers told him so. 

But you really couldn’t stop yourself from buying every magazine he featured in. Yunho was just absolutely stunning and he deserved to know that. “Babe, I could have gotten you that for free.” Yunho said, watching you flip through the pictures happily.  “I know, I’m just supporting my model boyfriend.” You said and he laughed. “Ahh, shut up.” He said shoving you slightly as you laughed. “I’m being serious.” You said, closing the magazine and moving to lean into his lap. 

“Look at these gorgeous hands and those broad shoulders. Not to mention your big beautiful eyes.” You paused looking at him as he smiled down on you. “Absolutely made for magazines.” You said softly, watching his ears turn pink as he blushed. 

“I’ll bring it up with the company that I want to do more modelling, specially for you.” 

Yeosang: 

It took alot for him to post the video of him singing onto twitter. It took a lot for him to do so and you knew that. So when you saw that Ateez had posted a video onto twitter, Yeosang’s beautiful voice was the last thing you expected. You couldn’t help but call him right away. 

“Hello?” He asked, voice calm and soothing in your ears. “So when were you gonna tell me you were practicing a song to post?” You said with a smile and you could hear his laugh on the other end. “It was supposed to be a surprise. Honestly, I’m shaking right now. Too scared to see the responses.” He admitted, laughing but you knew he meant it. “Ahh, Yeosang.” You said and he hummed in response, scared to hear what you were going to say. 

“From what I can tell, everyone is absolutely adoring it. And as for my personal opinion... you sound absolutely amazing. Your deep vocal tone is stunning and you’ve improved soooo much. I’m proud of you, you should be proud of yourself.” You said and Yeosang went quiet, covering his mouth to hide his giggle of embarrassment. 

“You know compliments make me nervous.” 

San:

Watching San perform was an experience in itself, you couldn’t help but be overwhelmed with emotions while watching him. You were just so incredibly proud of him and every time you saw him on stage you were reminded of that. Now because of the world situation, you were allowed to be front row to their show and hanging out with the staff. 

Once it was all over, San came running over with the last bit of energy he had left after a show. You wrapped your arms around him, not caring about how sweaty he was. “That was amazing.” You said softly and as he pulled away to look at you. “Yeah? I feel like I’m not in the best condition today.” San frowned and you shook your head. He was always doubting himself. 

“Ahh, shush. You were absolutely amazing. You always are. You always bring 110% to the table when it comes to performing so shhhh. San you are one of the best performers I’ve ever seen.” You said and he laughed, tucking his face into your shoulder. 

“You must want something from me, you’re being so sweet.” 

Mingi: 

There was no harm in hyping your man up and Mingi was just someone who needed the hype a little more often. Which didn’t bother you one bit. You loved complimenting him out of the blue, his response was worth it. The way his cheeks turned pink and he hid his face in his hands, it was so worth it. 

“Does this shirt work with these pants?” Mingi asked, walking out of the bathroom now fully dressed and standing in front of you. You loved his sense of style, he always dressed so nice and knew exactly what worked for him. “Yeah it works. You look really good.” You said, smiling at him. The small compliment made a big smile stretch over his face and he walked over to you, cupping your face. 

“You always look so good. You dress so well. Not to mention that gorgeous smile of yours, it’s your best accessory.” You smiled and he shut his eyes while laughing, cheeks getting pink in the process.

“You always make me so flustered when you compliment.” 

Wooyoung:

You loved days that you were allowed to watch their practice, it was just so much fun and it was so cool to see Wooyoung doing what he loved. Now it was especially cool, because it felt like you were getting a sneak peak to a new dance break. 

“Rewind the music, I messed up.” Wooyoung called out and the song restarted. You watched him dance, moving his body to the music and you couldn’t help but allow your mouth to go agape. “Babe, you’re gonna catch flies.” Wooyoung laughed looking at you watching him. You instinctively closed your mouth and looked at him with loving eyes. 

“I love watching you dance so much. Woo, you’re so talented. It’s just so cool to see.” You admitted and he sat next to you on the ground. He rested his head in your lap and looked up at you with a smirk. 

“Don’t stop on my account, I love it when you compliment me. It makes me feel all mushy and good.” 

Jongho: 

He was in such a good mood the entire day, his smile was hardly able to be kept at bay. Not that you wanted it to go away, not at all. You adored his smile quite possibly more than anything else. It was just so perfect, it brightened a room. 

“You’re in such a good mood today.” You commented, looking at his smile with a warmth in your chest. “I can’t help it. I just am.” Jongho said, leaning over you to rest his weight on you. “I get to spend my day with you, makes me happy.” His words were always so sweet. 

“God, your smile is the prettiest thing ever. Just absolutely gorgeous. Your smile makes me feel so happy.” You complimented, your fingers moving over his cheeks. His smile got only bigger and he burried his face into your chest with a small whimper. 

“Ahh, my cheeks are gonna crack from all this smiling.” 

[amanda-teaches]

It’ll Be Fun

Marvel Fanfic

Summary: You finally convince Bucky to attend one of Tony’s infamous parties at the compound, but things go south fast when invaders attack, leaving all of your lives in jeopardy. Bucky’s determined to do whatever he needs to do to keep you safe, even if that means putting his own life on the line.

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Word Count: 3545

Warnings: Intense situations, shooting, mentions of blood/bodies, injury, suggestive content.

A/N: This is for @arrowsandmixtapes​ Better Love Story Than Twilight Challenge. I hope you enjoy this one, Nic! I also included the prompt “Before I do this, I need you to know that I have always loved you” which was requested by @adventureisoutthere98 for my Writer + Reader challenge (my last request to fill!).

There was nothing quite like a Tony Stark party.

You attended your first one not long after you started working at Avengers Tower. Tony had invited you himself, walking his charming self down to your office to introduce himself and extend an invite to a “small get-together” he was having for some of the staff. Of course, you were honored he invited you, but your first instinct had been to decline. You would have too if it wasn’t for the other doctors in your unit descending on you, regaling you with stories about Tony’s “small get-togethers” and how they were anything but small. They practically begged you to go, saying you absolutely couldn’t miss it.

You reluctantly agreed, but you hadn’t really believed them until you arrived at the party and saw Beyoncé was scheduled to sing right after David Copperfield performed. 

You made sure you never missed a Tony party after that.

Over the ensuing years, you’d built real friendships with Tony and the rest of the team. You became one of their most trusted doctors, not only providing care at home but eventually venturing out into the field with them as well. When Bucky had been brought back to the newly-established Compound, you’d shifted gears, heading up his rehabilitation under Steve’s watchful eye. Bucky Barnes became your job.

It took a few good months to gain his trust and even more after that for him to start opening up to the others, but he didn’t open up much. It had been almost a year since he’d begun to call the compound his home, and he still spent the majority of his time with either you or Steve. You took it upon yourself to change that.

“Come on, Buck, it’s just a party.”

You plopped down on his bed, crossing your legs underneath you and staring expectantly at Bucky. He was standing with his back toward you, in front of his dresser with the top drawer open, but he stilled the moment you came in. His hands had stopped rifling around in the clothes when you spoke, and he paused, glancing over his shoulder at you. At the sight of you on his bed, he shook his head and laughed. “Yeah, sure, Y/N, come on in. Make yourself at home.”

“Oh, shush.” You admonished the sarcasm in his tone playfully, standing up and making your way to step in front of him, pressing your back up against the drawer to capture his view. “You act like I’m asking you to spend a night in jail.”

He raised his eyebrows, a teasing glint finding its way to his gaze. “A Stark party? Sounds like a form of capital punishment to me.”

“You’re so dramatic,” you laughed, pushing his chest with the flat of your hand, although it was about as effective as pushing a wall. “It’s not like it’ll kill you, Buck. All I’m asking for is one party. It’ll be fun.”

“Y/N…” You could hear the hesitation in his voice, so you cut him off at the knees.

“James Buchanan Barnes, I am your doctor, and I’m telling you, you’re going to this party. Don’t make me get Steve involved.”

He smirked, reaching one hand behind you to close the dresser drawer, his chest brushing against yours in the process. “Doctor’s orders?” he asked, his playful gaze remaining fixed on yours, the intensity in his eyes quickly accelerating your heart rate, not that you planned on letting him see that.

“Damn straight,” you directed, taking a breath and pushing him back again. This time he let you, moving back just enough for you to shimmy around him towards the door. You heard him chuckle behind you, but you refused to give him the satisfaction of seeing you smile in response. “7:30, Barnes. I expect you to be on your best behavior. And, for God’s sake, wear something nice. If you wear a tank top, I swear I’ll kick your ass.”

His deep laugh followed you all the way out the door.

To his credit, Bucky was trying his damndest to make it through this party without killing anyone.

He’d shown up at 7:30 on the dot, dressed in a nice suit you were pretty sure he’d borrowed from Steve, although you’d never call him on it. Taking his arm, you pulled him into the hanger Tony had converted into a party room more than rivaling the one he’d had back at the tower. Bucky stiffened when he saw all the people, but he kept his face neutral, although you knew it must’ve been killing him inside not to turn around and walk right out.

Applying gentle pressure on his arm, you smiled up at him, earning a smile right back. You guided him over to the bar that took up one wall, where Steve was waiting, drinks at the ready. Over the next hour, you watched Bucky resist the urge to grimace and squirm as guest after guest came over to talk with the three of you. Two world-renowned super soldiers were quite the attraction after all, and all of Tony’s high-profile friends were clamoring for a piece of the action. You knew Bucky hated every second.

You smiled and leaned into his side, dropping your voice so only he could hear. “You’re doing great.”

He returned your smile, his teeth gritting a little too hard as his metal arm snaked around your waist. “I’m this close to punching someone.”

“Just a little bit longer, Buck, and then the entertainment starts. Trust me, it’ll be worth it. I heard a rumor Tony’s got Cirque du Soleil lined up.”

“Dear God,” he groaned, his quiet laugh transforming his forced smile into a genuine one. “Nothing like our parties back in Brooklyn. You actually enjoy this stuff?”

“Oh, come on, it’s fun. Watching Tony’s friends? That’s some prime entertainment,” you teased back. “Besides, with these parties, you never know what crazy things will happen.”

He turned his head to look down at you, but whatever words he was going to utter next were lost to the sounds of a large blast from the other side of the room. Thinking it was part of the starting entertainment, you started to twist around, but Bucky grabbed you, hauling you up against him and dropping like a weight down to the floor.

“Buck, what the hell-” you screamed, but he was already moving, pulling you with him and yelling back over his shoulder. You were anchored securely to him, but you shifted your head to find Steve following close behind, his own back shielding you. It was only then that you registered the sound of gunshots echoing all around you and panic began to rise in your throat.

By the time you finally got your bearings, Bucky had dragged you behind the bar, kicking a stool out of the way to clear a space. He plunked you down with a loud thump and reached under the counter, pulling a pistol from its place taped underneath. “Steve, talk to me.”

Steve appeared on the other side of you like a ghost, yanking his own gun out from under the bar top. “I made at least 7, probably more. Came in the south side with a modified explosive device, loaded with semi-automatics.”

They exchanged a glance and raised up at the same time, firing three rounds over the bar top before dropping back down in unison to your side. Bucky glanced over at you. “You ok? You hurt?”

You shook your head slightly, still in shock. “I, I...Wait, how long have you had guns taped under here?”

He smiled at the way the spirit had returned to your voice, shaking his head right back. “Can we talk about that later?” He jumped back up, firing a few more rounds. “A little busy right now.”

Steve drew your attention then, calling Bucky’s name. “I’m going to flank around the back, try to clear the rest of the room, get out any civilians. You got her?”

Bucky nodded. “I’ll cover you.” He stood back up, firing into the open room as Steve ran past you, leaving the cover of the bar and speeding towards the other side of the room. When Bucky stopped firing, he dropped back down next to you, firmly grabbing your shoulder. “We gotta move. I’m out of bullets.”

“What, there aren’t any more secret weapons hidden somewhere?”

He smirked. “Not here. Come on, let’s move. Keep your head low.”

He grabbed your hand and suddenly you were running, trying not to trip in your heels as you all but flew across the room. You could see the carnage of broken furniture and a few fallen bodies behind you, but you shut your eyes tight against the sight, anchoring yourself to Bucky and trusting him to get you out of there. Feeling the shiver course through you, he swept you up against his side, lifting your feet from the ground without even slowing and carrying you the rest of the way.

He made a sharp right at the hallway, adjusting his grip so you were in front of him, shielded from any gunfire, and raced down the corridor, ducking into rooms every time he heard someone approaching. Not that anyone ever got close, because Bucky could practically hear them coming from a mile away. With no obstacles, you quickly made it back to his room where he shut and bolted the door, finally releasing you.

He moved towards the far wall without a word, opening the gun safe you knew he had hidden in a nightstand there. “Buck, what’re you doing? Who are those guys?”

“I don’t know,” he rushed out, pulling two guns out from the safe and tucking one into the back of his waistband. He stood back up and looked over at you, sighing heavily. “Stay here. Lock the door behind me and don’t let anyone in until I come back.”

He started to move past you but you grabbed his arm, holding him back. “Wait, you can’t go back out there. You have no idea what you’re up against. There’s too many of them, you could get yourself killed.”

“It’s my job, Y/N. There’s people out there who need my help. Steve is out there.”

“Buck…”

He transferred the gun to his metal hand, placing the back of his knuckles on your cheek. Gently, he wiped away the tear falling down it, letting his fingertips brush against your hair. Seeing the fear in your eyes, he gifted you with a smile. “Don’t worry, I’ll be back before you know it.”

You stepped closer, holding his gaze just as you had that morning, hating the resignation you saw there. “I’ll come with you. I can help.”

His face hardened at that suggestion, and he shook his head resolutely. “No, absolutely not.”

“Buck, I’m not some helpless damsel, I’m a doctor. I can help.”

“No,” he snapped, hard and fast. He closed his eyes at the sound of his own voice and softened his tone. “Please, Y/N. I can’t do this if I’m worried about protecting you. Stay here. Keep the door locked. Please.”

You knew he meant it, that he needed you to agree or he wouldn’t go, so you nodded, reaching out and taking his hand off your face, intertwining your fingers with his. “Be careful, okay?”

“Always am.” He smiled, letting your hand drop from his. He moved to open the door, placing his hand on the doorknob, but before he opened it, he hesitated. Turning back to you, he just stared for a moment, like he was drinking you in, trying to memorize every last detail. “Before I do this, I need you to know that...I have always loved you.”

And, then he was gone, just like that, without another word, leaving you alone and incredibly confused.

What the hell?

What was that supposed to mean, he loved you? Loved you like a friend, a pet dog, what? No, you knew what it meant. No one told you they loved you in the middle of gunfire unless it meant the real thing, the thing the two of you had been dancing around for months, the same all-consuming, heart-stopping love you’d felt for him since the moment he first came to the compound. 

But, seriously, what the hell? Where did he get off telling you that and just leaving, making you stay behind? What were you supposed to do now?

You hadn’t realized you were pacing until you found yourself on the other side of the room, your fists clenched tightly against your sides. You closed your eyes, and all you could see was Bucky’s face, smiling at you as you cried your way through yet another Disney movie or comforting you when you lost a patient.

Damnit, he had no right to do this to you, not like this. You sure as hell weren’t going to let him tell you he loved you and then just go out there to die.

Lifting your foot, you tore one of your heels off, flinging it across the room with the other one following close behind. Stalking over to Bucky’s safe, you punched in the combo he’d taught you months ago for emergencies, pulling out the small .22 you knew he’d left inside. You tucked it into the palm of your hand and moved to open the door, stepping hesitantly out into the hallway, your gun at the ready.

Bucky had taught you how to shoot using a bunch of old cans on the edge of the forest a few months ago, so you felt pretty confident with the gun, but that didn’t exactly mean you were eager to run into anybody. You stayed close to the wall instead, moving slowly and carefully.

The building was all but deserted, and you didn’t see a soul in any of the first few hallways you walked through. That changed as you neared the east side of the compound, where a chorus of sounds and crashes echoed. You stopped with your back against a wall, using it as a shield as you peered around the corner, your grip tightening on the butt of your gun.

It was Bucky, of course. Who else would be crazy enough to be standing in the middle of chaos, one man up against four, all of them heavily armed. The others looked like they had him outmatched, but this was Bucky they were up against. You knew the real odds.

You pitied the others.

He made it look effortless, the way he went through them, as easy and routine as playing a video game. They went high, he dropped low. They came from the back, he spun around to cut them off at the knees. He took three of them down so fast, you almost missed it, but the fourth one got in a lucky hit, slashing him from the side with a knife before he could turn to block it.

“Bucky!” you screamed, and his head whipped around, his eyes making contact with yours and flashing with surprise just before the assailant raised his gun, slamming it down on the back of Bucky’s head. He crumbled, dropping to the floor, and you raised your gun with a shout, firing two shots that made contact with the attacker’s shoulder and neck, killing him instantly.

Rushing forward, you dropped to your knees by Bucky’s side, turning him over and feeling along his chest and stomach for any injuries. “Buck, Bucky!”

He groaned, a whispered string of swear words flying out of his mouth, and opened his eyes. When he turned his head and glared up at you, you realized he was going to be okay and your whole body sagged in relief. “I thought I told you to stay in my room,” he grumbled, blinking a few times to clear his head as he sat up into your waiting arms.

You smiled, taking the opportunity to unbutton his crisp, white shirt and slip your hand inside, feeling the area you’d watched the knife hit. “Yeah, well, I’ve never been great at listening.” Your hand landed on the long cut you’d been searching for and he winced, but you grinned. You knew instantly that the gash was narrow and shallow, easily fixable without needing stitches, especially with his healing ability. Another wave of relief washed over you.

“You really don’t, do you?” he laughed, shaking his head, but he stilled when your hand grazed the bottom of his chin, his breath drawing in with a sharp inhale. You ran your fingers up, tracing the curve of his lip with your thumb before resting the flat of your palm against the stubble of his cheek.

“I do listen to some things,” you whispered, letting the words linger in the air between the two of you. His eyes dropped to your lips, his breaths growing labored in response.

“We should, uh...” he stumbled through his response, clearly growing flustered, but he kept his voice low, gruff. “Find Steve, make sure the compound’s secure, see if anyone needs help.”

“Mhmm,” you muttered, darting your tongue out to lick your lips and relishing the moan you pulled from him in response. “We should.”

“Yeah…” His voice died out as he finally dragged his gaze away from your lips, swallowing hard. “But, later…”

You nodded, your breathing having sped up to match his labored pace. “We’ll talk. As soon as we get a chance.”

Unfortunately, that chance didn’t come for another three hours.

It was nearing midnight, and you were exhausted. You and Bucky had found Steve and quickly split up, with him to handle the security debrief and you to lead the triage effort in the medical suites. You’d been on your feet ever since.

You’d just dismissed the last of your staff and leaned against your desk to close your eyes when the door opened.

“Can I help…” you started, turning to find Bucky standing in the doorway. You smiled in response. “Oh, hey, how was your…”

You never got the chance to finish, because Bucky stalked across the room with four long steps, taking your face in his hands, kissing the air right out of you, and stealing your thoughts right along with it. His lips were gentle, but insistent, and when his tongue prodded at your lower lip, you opened to him, spurring him to lift you up onto your desk, the kiss turning more passionate and unbridled, your hands sweeping into his hair.

When he pulled back, your lips were swollen, your cheeks were flushed, and you were pretty sure if your legs weren’t wrapped around him, you would’ve fallen backwards off your desk. He grinned at the sight of you and ran his hands down your back to rest on your hips. “Shit, I’ve been wanting to do that all night.”

“Just all night?” you teased, your laugh echoing throughout the room. “Here I was thinking you’d been thinking about it for a lot longer than that.”

His face sobered instantly, turning serious as he studied you. “I meant what I said earlier. It’s not just physical for me.”

“Me neither,” you whispered, pulling him in for another kiss, this one leisurely and sweet. You remembered vividly what he’d told you earlier, in the midst of the attack, but you didn’t want to push him to say it again. You knew how strongly you felt about him, but you also knew this was very new for both of you, and he’d had a very long night. “You want to have dinner tomorrow night?”

His smirk came right back. “Like a date?”

For a man who’d just told you he loved you and kissed you with more passion than you’d ever felt in your life, he was being awfully cheeky. “Yes, like a date,” you laughed with a roll of your eyes.

Bucky leaned down, stealing one more kiss. “How about breakfast instead? I can’t wait a whole day to hold you again, sweetheart.”

Your heart leaped at the term of endearment, but even more at the sentiment behind it, and you nodded your agreement. Then, you thought of something you knew you had to tell him, just to see his reaction. “You know,” you mused aloud, “I heard Tony was planning another party for next weekend.”

Bucky’s whole face scrunched up in pain, and you tried really hard not to laugh. “Another party?”

You couldn’t resist teasing him. Running your hands up his chest, you pressed your lips against his throat with a smile. “It’ll be fun.”

“Yeah,” he scoffed, his body shuddering involuntarily at your touch, his voice cracking. “That’s what you said last time.”

“Mmm,” you hummed against his neck, feeling his arms tighten with a groan. “I happen to think tonight was very fun.”

“Oh, just wait until tomorrow, baby,” he groaned. “I’ll show you fun.”

“Hey, Buck?” you whispered, raising your head to gesture at the clock behind you. “It’s tomorrow.”

He growled and captured your lips again, picking you up and carrying you out of the room and down the hall.

Seemed like you’d have no problem keeping that breakfast date after all.

[floorbe]

Um, hi, I saw your shsl sfx makeup artist blog and I loved your writing! Do you mind doing a very shy and insecure Ultimate Singer with Nagito, Shuichi, Mondo, Fuyuhiko and Gundham?

Yes ofc!! I’m gonna make this the lads reacting to hearing you sing for the first time if thats ok!

~

Nagito Komaeda

Humming a song that’s been stuck in your head for what seems like weeks, you sweep your kitchen floor. Bobbing your head a bit as you move around the kitchen, you begin singing under your breath (maybe singing it will finally get it out of your head?), eyes flicking nervously to the doorway to make sure Nagito wasn’t nearby to hear you. 

Once reassured that Nagito was not in the room nearby, nor anywhere you could see him, you gradually begin singing louder. You let yourself feel the beat of the music as you slide around the kitchen, not noticing Nagito appear in the doorway. He watches you adoringly, leaning on the doorframe as you break your verse momentarily to use the broom as a microphone, laughing quietly to yourself.

You spin around to clean another area of the kitchen, only to abruptly cut off your song as you catch sight of Nagito, who then sheepishly smiles at you, waving. How long had he been there? Had he heard you singing? By the look on his face it seems like he had. You feel your face heating up, stuttering as he crosses to meet you. 

“I’m sorry for eavesdropping, my love. Your voice is just so enchanting,” your face only gets redder at his compliment. He pulls you close to him, barely brushing his nose against your cheekbone as he kisses it. You sputter in embarrassment, hiding your face in his chest, unable to face him anymore. 

“I-I don’t know about that...” you mumble into his chest. He abruptly pulls you away from him, leaning so close that your noses brush against each other.

“No, don’t insult your talent, Y/N. I know saying that doesn’t mean much coming from me, but I truly believe it,” he smiles, “You are the Ultimate Singer, after all.”

Shuichi Saihara

“Really? Y-yeah, I’d love to!” smiling nervously, you lead a beaming Shuichi to your room. You’d just finished writing a rough draft of a new song you’ve been working on, and you needed someone else’s opinion on it. While Shuichi may not be a music expert, he didn’t need to be. Hearing someone’s opinion who only listened to music casually was just as valuable as another song writer’s opinion. Songs are written for audiences, after all. It’s with that thought that you tug Shuichi into your room.

You lead Shuichi to sit on your bed as you close the door behind you, grabbing your music sheet. Settling in front of him, you bite your lip as you take a deep breath to calm your nerves. “Um, Y/N?” your eyes flick up to Shuichi’s, “I don’t know if this will help, but... Judging you is the last thing I’m going to do. I’m just happy you want to share this with me.”

You smile at him, murmuring a thank you before looking back down at your lyrics. Taking another deep breath, you remind yourself that this is Shuichi, someone who has always supported you and insisted that he always will. Someone who wouldn’t judge you. Feeling yourself calm down slightly at the reminder, you start your song, face starting to heat up. You ignore the burning on your cheeks the best you can, trying to focus on the lyrics and notes on the paper, letting the tune flow from you.

As your song ends, you shyly look up at Shuichi to see him staring at you, eyes wide. For a moment you’re afraid he was cringing, until a huge smile breaks out on his face. “That... that was amazing, Y/N!”

Mondo Oowada

“I-I don’t know if you want to hear my voice,” you say quietly, avoiding his gaze. “It’s not- that good.”

“The fuck you mean?” Mondo raises an eyebrow at you, “If your voice was shit you wouldn’t be the Ultimate fuckin’ Singer, right?” You shrug vaguely, rubbing your hands together nervously as he sighs. He loops his arms around your waist (and if you looked up you would see a blush on his face in doing so), “Look, it’s not like I’m gonna fuckin’ judge you or some shit.”

You press your head into his chest, nodding with a mumble, “I know.” You stay there for a moment before taking a deep breath, trying to calm your nerves. Mondo opens his mouth to say something, but is cut off when you softly start to sing to him. He holds you closer to him as your face burns, eyes squeezed shut as you try to focus on singing and nothing else. 

You finish the snippet of the song you were singing, letting out a shaky sigh asit feels like a weight is lifted off of your chest. “Babe...” you pull away slightly to shyly look up at him, surprised to see a wide grin on his face. “That was fuckin’ awesome!” 

Fuyuhiko Kuzuryu

“Hey, Y/N, I’m not gonna mock you or some shit,” Fuyuhiko frowns, and despite the aggressive dialect there’s a softness to his tone. You nod as he reaches his hand out to interlock with one of yours. While you had felt confident when you had first asked Fuyuhiko to listen to you sing your new song, you can’t help the nervousness that you feel now that you actually have to show him.

“I-I know, thank you,” you murmur, smiling at him before averting your gaze again. He’s about to say something when you take a breath, cutting him off as you gather yourself to sing. Closing your eyes, you try to focus on the melody springing into your mind, and the warmth of Fuyuhiko’s hand. He squeezes it gently as a reminder that he’s here, supporting you. Smiling, you begin.

You don’t focus on anything other than the way Fuyuhiko’s hand tightens as you sing, trying to ignore any doubts that seep into your mind by squeezing his hand. Your eyes are shut the entire time you sing to him, only opening once your last note fades from the echo in the room. Looking nervously at him, you see his eyes blown wide, a small smile on his face.

“That was fucking amazing, Y/N,” he eventually says, blushing lightly. You beam at him, squeezing his hand once again as you thank him. 

Gundham Tanaka

With your earbuds in, you sing along to the song that’s blasting through them. Swaying back and forth on your bed as you work on one of your projects, you don’t realize quite how loud your earbuds are. You’ve always kept them at a lower volume so you can still hear if something happens around you, however they seem to be louder than usual today as you don’t hear your door click open, revealing Gundham. 

He pauses as you continue singing, back turned to him, and he silently enters your room, shutting the door behind him. He smiles as he listens to the melody of your voice, opening his mouth to compliment you before you turn around to grab something and see him there, letting out a shriek.

You nearly rip the earbuds from your ears, blushing furiously as you realize that he heard you singing. Avoiding his gaze, you start to stutter out apologies about how you hadn’t heard him come in, you would’ve stopped if you had-

“My dear, whatever do you mean?” you pause, eyes traveling back to meet his confused expression. “Your singing was marvelous! A tune not even the Gods could hope to replicate!” Your face feels like it’s on fire as he blushes lightly, tugging at his scarf.  You hide your face in your hands, stuttering out a thank you as he makes his way to sit beside you. 

“P-please do not let me interrupt you, my love. Continue your entrancing melodies!”

[deaddovecoterie]

confessions

co-written with @whoseblogsthis

Peeta Mellark x Fem!Reader

Prompt: “Isn’t it obvious? I’m in love with you!” 

Fandom: the hunger games

Rating: T

Word Count: 2.6k

Warning(s): swearing, unedited, two oblivious dumbasses in love

Genre(s): angst, fluff

A/N: LMAO HI GUYSSSS. so i had the INSANE privilege of writing with my mutual, friend, and insanely talented writer, @whoseblogsthis, ky. i obviously couldn’t have done this without her and im so so blown away by her and her talents. this is basically our child and baby and so im basically screaming right now cause we just finished this and its 1:01am. ANYWAY i really really hope you guys love this as much as we loved writing it <3 mwuah love you all

main stuff -> y/n (your name)

-> e/c (your eye colour)

-> y/l/n (your last name)

Peeta Mellark. 

He was your constant; your rock. You could rely on him for anything and everything.

He was the steadiest thing you’d had in your life for a long time now, but as he took your wrist and led you upstairs away from the party, you couldn’t help but feel the anger bubble up in your chest. 

“Peeta, what—”

“Why?” he nearly shouts. Peeta is mild mannered. He’s many things, actually; polite, charming, and personable, but angry was not one of them. It didn’t scare you like you’d always expected it to, but rather frustrated you. 

“Why what, Peeta?” you hiss back. 

He looks at you as if you had just grown two heads, his brows knit together in disbelief.

“You’re joking,” he breathes. You shake your head, not understanding what he is trying to get at. You defensively cross your arms, knowing the juvenile element would annoy him, but having nothing to do with your hands increases your already anxious state.

“That guy,”

“That guy?”

“Yes, y/n, yes. That guy that was just a little too friendly with you? So close to you that he was practically crawling under your goddamn skin? What were you thinking?”

You laugh at him, unable to contain it. “I can handle myself perfectly fine. Why are you being such an ass?” you all but shout at him. “It’s none of your business anyway?” 

“Hm, let’s see y/n, he could’ve, god, I don’t know, taken advantage of you?” 

You scoff, unable to handle his cliché statement. 

He brings his hands up and pushes his hair back, looking up at the ceiling as he exhales heavily through his nose. You squint at him, unable to read the emotions on his face. 

“What is up with you?” you whisper, not quite sure if he was able to hear. Your eyes narrow, unsure of what his next words might be. 

“For someone so smart, you can be so goddamn oblivious sometimes, y/l/s.”

“Oh my god, what is with all the stupid riddles tonight? I can’t read your mind! You can’t expect me to just know things,” you exasperate, throwing your hands out in front of you. “For someone who’s supposed to be good at communication, you’re doing a pretty shitty job of displaying it,” you spit, throwing his words right back at him. 

“Fine,” he hisses, starting to move towards you.

You cock your eyebrow at him, your bodies coming closer, nearly closing the gap.

“Fine?” you question.

“Yeah.” he huffs out, repeating the word with an heir of finality, “yeah.” His breath warms your face, the scent of vodka invading your senses.

Your cheeks heat up, suddenly very aware of his proximity. You watch his adam's apple bob as he swallows thickly. He can’t meet your eyes, his heart hammering against his chest so loud that it feels as though you can hear it. His head drops along with his gaze, studying the floor before chancing a glance at you. Peeta lets go of a breathy laugh as words tumble out of his mouth.

“Isn’t it obvious?” he breathes, his words choked, hardly audible, him now looking you right in the eyes. Your stomach does a flip once, unsure of his next words. Blue eyes stare at your e/c ones that are clouded in confusion. You can feel his frustration start to build as he takes a step back from you, his voice rising and hands coming from his sides. 

“I’m in love with you,” he bursts out. 

Oh my god.

You stare at him in shock, his proclamation stunning you. You blink once, twice, as his words echoing through your head.

His hazel eyes bore into your e/c ones, willing you to say something, anything, to let him know you heard him. But yet you stand there, unable to find the words. 

Nothing is coming out.

Say something, you beg yourself, wanting to scream out an answer, yet your mouth continues to remain shut. You swallow hard, your tongue feeling like sandpaper. How could you be so oblivious to his feelings? You and him have known each other since childhood, yet there you are, standing only inches away from him, the truth finally known. It seemed 

The look in his eyes is absolutely heart-wrenching; if you hadn’t just heard him, you’d have thought he had lost his best friend. In a way, you guess, he had. 

Peeta just shakes his head softly, shrugging his shoulders in such a way that makes you want to reach out and take his hand. His dark waves fall over his eyes and he turns around, facing the door.

“I—” you begin, but you know it’s too late. 

“Just, um, forget it, y/n,” his voice soft, small, “I’ll see you in environmental studies.”

He opens the door and steps out into the hallway, closing the door behind him. You want to scream, to tell him to come back.  

“Dammit!” you exclaim, throwing your red solo cup as hard as you can at the wall. The contents spill all over, some of the liquid splashing on you but you can’t bring yourself to care. 

You reach to pull at your loosely braided hair, a habit of yours that came out whenever you were experiencing an excess of negative emotions, before you realize where you are. You harshly rub your eyes with the heels of your hands as you remind yourself to breathe. 

In, out . . . In, out. 

“Get it together,” you tell yourself, taking one last deep breath. “Okay.”

You turn to head back downstairs to the party, nothing on your mind except finding Peeta and setting everything straight, hoping at this point that that was even a possibility anymore. 

God, you hated this part. You hated having to make up. Saying sorry was never your strong suit, your pride always getting in the way. But this? This was not a matter of pride. This was about finally coming to terms with the truth that you so desperately tried to avoid for years. 

You almost trip as you descend the stairs, looking everywhere for Peeta but unable to find him anywhere in the crowd. 

Spotting a head of wavy bronze hair by the water cooler, you rush over to your english lit classmate, who is also a friend of Peeta’s; Finnick Odair. 

“Hey Finnick,” you say once you reach him, trying to keep your voice even. He greets you with his signature smirk before bringing his cup to his lips and taking a sip.

“Ah, y/n, having a good time I trust?”

“Trying to,” you grumble. Finnick gives you a quizzical look before you proceed; “Have you seen Peeta?” You can’t help but notice the slight crack in your voice when you say his name.

“Yeah,” he confirms, “I saw him leave a few minutes ago. Seemed pretty upset.” 

“Yeah, wonder why,” you mutter bitterly, knowing he wouldn’t hear your words above the music. 

You bite your lip, weighing the option of asking Finnick to help you find Peeta. Half of you wanted to go and find him yourself, your need to get the weight off your chest as quickly as possible, the other half of you wanting to stall for as long as you could.

 “Could you text him? Ask him where he is?” 

“Why can’t you?” 

You fight the urge to roll your eyes, your cheeks burning. “Because, I—” 

“Wait,” Finnick’s smile widens. “Wait, are you the reason he’s upset?” 

Your silence is enough for him. His dopey smile falters for a moment, an emotion that you could only define as realization sweeping over his face. He shakes his head softly, pulling his phone from the pocket of his hoodie and opening his texts. His thumbs glide swiftly across the screen as he compiles a message to send to Peeta. 

You can’t have been standing there for more than a minute when his phone dings. Finnick flashes you the screen. 

From: Pita Bread 

I’m fine... at the pond. 

“Thank you, Finnick, really,” you breathe.

He just nods, taking another sip of his drink. 

You rush out of the frat house the party was being held in, running across the street to Panem University’s main campus, willing your legs to go faster. 

The pond was at the northern end of campus, smack in the middle of Tribute Hall and the Coriolanus Snow Study Center. You see a silhouette sitting on one of the few stone benches surrounding the body of tranquil water, tossing handfuls of what you can only assume is trail mix at the ducks that liked to take up at the pond. 

You slow down, bringing your footfalls to a trot, then silently padding your way over the grass towards him. Your chest is heaving from the exertion as you try to make your breaths even.

“Peeta,” You call out, your voice void of any venom as you stalk towards the boy. You’re almost inclined to slap him because of how he acted. No rational person could expect someone to give them an answer to a question as heavily weighed as that right away. 

He stands up once you reach him, refusing to look you in the eyes. For a fleeting moment, you catch the grief-stricken look in his usually bright eyes and it’s enough to keep you from raising your hand at him. 

“Why did you leave like that?” you breathe out. He shrugs a shoulder with almost casual indifference. “Peeta.” you nearly plead, looking at him as your eyebrows knit together.

“What did you expect me to do?” he says feebly. 

You look up at the night sky, inhaling deeply as you hurriedly send off a prayer to whatever higher power that you can say everything you want to say to him, in the way you want to say it. 

In a way that says something to him. Means something. 

The stars seem to twinkle brighter, almost like they received your message. God, this is so hard.

Peeta is still looking anywhere but at you, his focus now on the ducks idling in the water. 

“You could have waited for me,” you say. “I mean, come on! That was… big. A big thing to drop on me,” you add, “so of course I was shocked. But if you had just waited for me . . .” 

“What?” he snorts, finally looking you in the eyes. “What would you have said that couldn’t have possibly made me feel like more of a fool than I already was? What—” 

“I love you,” you blurt. 

Here it goes.

“And not in a ‘you’ve always been there for me, so I’m kind of indebted to you’ kind of way but in a way that’s like, ‘I want to do cheesy stuff with you because I know it will make you smile.’ That’s like, I would do anything, anything to prove to you that I’m worthy of your love. Peeta, you’ve seen everything I was and everything I am, and it just— I just couldn’t believe when you said that . . . But I— I trust you with everything in me and it frightens me, because you know I’ve been hurt before, but I can’t deny that everything feels right when I’m with you. I just. I want another chance. If, if you’ll let me.” You breath the words out, hardly anything but air coming out.  

“Y/n, breathe.” 

“Right,” you exhale, your mind swirling around, making vertigo seem like a walk in the park. 

“You’re not . . . unworthy of love,” Peeta begins but he stops, trying to figure out his words. “What Cato did to you, it doesn’t mean you’re undeserving of love. He’s.. an asshole, who’s going to get what’s coming to him. I— I’m sorry for dropping it on you like that, but seeing you with that guy, he just reminded me so much of Cato, and it made me so mad because I didn’t want you to go through that again, and I.. couldn’t help but think it was my final chance to tell you how I felt.” 

“Final chance?” 

“Y/n, I’ve loved you since like year six.” 

“Peeta, you absolute dumbass!” you exclaim, quickly going to cover your mouth as your own words shock even yourself. “I’m sorry. It’s just . . . wow,” a laugh nearly escapes your lips. “We’re both oblivious fools, huh?” 

Peeta’s brows furrow in confusion, as you let out a soft chuckle. His head is tilted slightly to the side, his soft curls falling into his blue eyes. This moment is one you’ll always remember, you think to yourself, already trying to commit it to memory. The way the trees slightly sway from the late summer breeze, the moonlight reflecting off the water; best of all, the glint in Peeta’s eye when your gazes meet. It’s so cheesy, really, but you couldn’t care less. You’ve played it over and over in your head for years, different scenarios always being formulated, but nothing you could have ever dreamt of could compare to this moment. 

“I’ve loved you since year seven,” you tell him, every word of it true. “I can’t believe it took us both this long. Could have avoided the whole Cato fiasco of year twelve, I suppose, if we had just . . . had the gall to tell each other back then, I guess,” you say, the last sentence mumbled.

“Yeah.” Peeta laughs, a genuine deep laugh that reaches his eyes. It rouses the butterflies that have been in the pit of your stomach, the fluttering making you nervous as you watch him scratch the base of his neck almost embarrassedly. 

“So,” you say, dragging the ‘o’ sound. “Pretty sure this is the part where most people would kiss.” 

“Do you want to kiss me?” 

“No, not you, Peeta. I was talking to the duck behind you,” You frown, unable to contain the scoff that passes your lips. “Yes.. yes, I want to kiss you,” you breathe, your pulse hammering.

You step forward, your hands reaching up, gliding against his cheeks, his hands resting on your waist. In a moment of bravery, you place your lips against his. They’re soft, and he tastes like cedar and bread, and it’s like coming home, being in his arms as his lips move against yours, the breeze chilling your skin but his warming you. 

There are no words spoken between the two of you as you both pull away. His eyes are still closed, his long eyelashes resting against the tops of his cheeks; the corners of his mouth are pulled up slightly. 

God, he’s beautiful. So beautiful. That word is usually reserved for sceneries, sunsets or pretty dresses, but in this moment, you can’t tear your eyes away from him. 

“Finally!” someone shouts, causing the both of you to jump back from each other, acting like two first years getting caught passing notes in class. You look around before your eyes land on Johanna Mason, leaning against the statue of the university founder Alma Coin that’s off to the left of the entrance of the study center. Finnick is with her, his signature smirk gracing his elegant features once more. “We were wondering when you two would have the balls to tell each other how you felt.” 

“It seems everyone knew but you two,” Finnick adds with a deep chuckle. 

“Alright, Finny, I think we should leave the two lovebirds alone.” Johanna says, turning away. “Be safe, you two!” 

“If you need anything,” Finnick winks at Peeta. “You know where to reach me.”  

You laugh softly, leaning your head against Peeta’s chest. His arms wrap around you, encasing you in him. His cheeks rests on the top of your head, his breaths evening out as you listen to his steady heart beat. 

This is it. This is home. 

[twh-news]

‘Loki’ Breakout Sophia Di Martino on Loki’s Coming Out and Tom Hiddleston’s Famous Lecture | Variety

When Sophia Di Martino first auditioned for the Disney Plus series “Loki,” it was in September 2019. A working actor since 2004, the British native has appeared on several British TV series, including “Flowers” and “Election Spy,” and she had supporting role in the 2019 film “Yesterday,” but she hadn’t ever quite landed the breakout role that could move her career to a larger stage.

Enter Sylvie. Introduced at the end of Episode 2 the Marvel Studios “Loki,” she is a “variant” of Tom Hiddleston’s beloved god of mischief, someone who had the same inception point as Loki but whose life unfolded much differently. In Episode 3, Sylvie and Loki spend pretty much the entire hour getting to know each other — and making clear just how critical Sylvie is to the larger story.

Naturally, this kind of role is a massive opportunity, which made how Di Martino ultimately landed it even more shocking to her.

“It was the shortest casting experience I think I’ve ever had,” she says with bewilderment. “I did an audition tape with a very short scene. I wasn’t asked to do it again, and I couldn’t meet anyone because I was heavily pregnant at the time and I couldn’t travel. Tom was in the U.S., everyone else was in the U.S. So we didn’t get to screen test or anything. So I just got the job on the back of this tape, which never happens, and especially with a job like this! It was extremely quick and quite surprising to all involved. Me and my agent were both like, ‘Really? Are you sure? This is crazy? Okay, fine! We’ll do it! We’re in!'”

Once she got the role, however, Di Martino stepped inside Marvel Studios’ vibranium-clad cone of silence. And while she says she’s good at keeping a secret, finally getting to talk about the experience is a massive relief.

“I got this job in September 2019 and only today is the first day I can talk about Sylvie,” she says. “So it’s been quite hard!”

Sylvie really does not see herself as a “Loki.” So how much did you draw from Tom Hiddleston’s performance in his role as Loki when shaping your character?

I looked at his performance, but I try not to be shaped by it too much. Sylvie has had a very different backstory to Loki. She’s a different person, and that was really important to us right from the beginning. When [director] Kate [Herron] pitched me the idea when I finally got the job, and she was able to tell me a bit more about it, it was very clear that Sylvia was Sylvie. And she’s not Lady Loki from the comics. I mean, the show is inspired by the comics, but this is a brand new backstory in a brand new story. And so I wanted to make her my own.

You will see, at times throughout the series, that Tom and I do very similar things, like our physicality is similar or when we choreographed fight scenes, we’ll mirror each other. And that’s all purposely done. And then the rest of it I’ve kind of just made up as I go along.

Tom Hiddleston conducted his famous Loki lecture in advance of the show — did you have a chance to go to it?

Yeah, I was there. It’s one of those things where you can say, ‘I was there!’ It was super interesting and important for me to listen to. He knows so much about the character. He’s been with that character for 10 years. He knows that character unlike anyone else in the world. And to hear all of that information and be able to ask him any question was just really, really important and fun. Like, what a great way to start a job. It got everyone really excited about the show.

How did you and Tom and Kate Herron talk about the scene in which Loki comes out — to the audience, anyway — as bisexual?

I remember Kate being really passionate about it, and that she wanted that to be represented in the show. I think people have been waiting a long time for it. The comic books allude to it and even the Norse mythology, I think. It’s been around for so long, and it was really important to her to have that in the show. But we tried not to let that affect the way we were playing it, you know. We’re just playing it like it’s quite natural conversation between two friends — well, two acquaintances, at that point. So we tried not to give it too much weight, but we knew in the back of our minds how important it was to a lot of people. And I’ve got to say how happy it makes me that people are happy to see that.

A lot of people noticed that the lighting on Lamentis-1 was reminiscent of the bisexual flag. Did Kate take about that being on purpose?

I can’t remember her actually talking about being on purpose. But I know Kate Herron, and I think it probably it was. I think she was probably like, this is gonna be purple, pink and blue, guys! I mean, it looks beautiful.

Tell me a little about yourself. I’d read that you had always even since you were young been really keen on acting?

Yeah, I was one of those annoying kids who’s always like trying to get my sister to do plays in the living room, and always casting myself in the better part and having her play like the Cinderella character. I think it was just an excuse to boss her around. [Laughs] I was one of those really bossy kids. I’ve always I always enjoyed acting at school — I didn’t really know that acting was a job that I could do until I was a little bit older. I wasn’t the kind of kid who would say I want to be an actor, because I think my parents would have just laughed at me. A ridiculous idea! No one in my family is in that world, and it wasn’t really within my grasp. So it was always a little dream that I kept to myself, really. And then I’ve just been quietly chipping away at it for the past 25 years, and here I am!

Owen Wilson has talked about how he was aware of the MCU, but not necessarily the most super knowledgeable person about it. Where do you fall in your awareness and knowledge of of the Marvel Cinematic Universe?

Kind of similar to Owen. I’d seen a few movies, and I was aware of it. And a few of my friends are really into it. And I know that a lot of people are, but I didn’t know that much, to be honest. I’ve learned a lot more being on the show. And from Tom, who is very knowledgeable.

How much of the role did you get to do before lockdown?

I don’t want to get this wrong, but I think it was like three or four weeks of filming. It wasn’t very much at all. It was enough just to start getting in the flow of things and just to start enjoying it before we had to shut down.

In that sort of time period where we were all just sitting with our own thoughts and contemplating the world, did you think more about Sylvie and anything else that you wanted to do with the part?

It was a really great time for letting what we’d already shot sit and percolate. I know Kate and the writers did a lot more work on the storyline when they’d seen what we’d done, you know, cut together so far. From a personal perspective, it was great just to have a little bit more time to think about it. Because the beginning of the shoot, everything happened so quickly. I carried on training with my stunt double, Sara. We would meet up once or twice a week on zoom, and that was really helpful as well, just to physically get into the body of the character. So I had a lot more time to get fit after having a baby.

Part of the pandemic experience for a lot of people has been thinking about the road less travelled, which in Sylvie’s case is the most extreme example — of this person who shares some similar essence with Loki but lived a completely different life. Did that resonate at all for you while playing her?

It’s so interesting to see two characters who are so similar and so different. It was really important to me to reflect the kind of life that Sylvie has had. The costume reflects that as well with the broken horn and the slightly disheveled costume. And little things like keeping more of my regional accent, and not trying to sound too posh or too well spoken, because it just wouldn’t suit the experience that Sylvie’s had. All of those things were were parts of creating this character and this relationship between Tom and I.

So how does how does one audition for a particularly physical role while pregnant?

Well, luckily, the scene that they gave me, I think, ended up being the scene on the train when they both sat down having a conversation. So I didn’t have to stand up. It was just head and shoulders. So you would never know just by looking at the tape. And then I don’t exactly know how it happened. I think it was just lucky that it wasn’t a super physical scene that I had to act out. Trying to do stunts or something, that would have been terrible!

When you got this role, what really were the parameters of who you could talk to, and who you couldn’t, before today?

I can talk to Tom and I can talk to Kate, but I just wasn’t really supposed to say anything else to anyone else. And I’m really good at keeping secrets, so I just didn’t talk to anyone else about it. Tom and I would just call each other and be like, ‘Oh, we need to say all this stuff, because we’ve got to say to anyone else! Ahh! What about this scene and this bit and this bit?!’ And you know, we’d meet up with Kate and do the same thing. So it was kind of just the three of us.

[dayseternal-blog]

Hi Days! I'm a huge fan of your work and your tumblr blog bc you give so many naruhina fanfic recs and talk about your stories, etc.

To sum it up, you're my favorite person lol, I'm a bit shy so I'm asking this as an anon, but I wanted to tell you something random just because I've always just thought about it and maybe you would agree or comment on it.

Have you ever listened to mitski? If you haven't I recomend you do bc she's amazing, but anyways I was listening to a song of hers called "washing machine heart" and it reminded me of naruhina, like the fic "together you and I" but different you know, like naruto only married hinata because he couldn't have sakura, she was his second option and every time he looked at her he wished and pretended it was Sakura, so Hina tries her hardest to look pretty and try to be the person he wants, always getting saddend by the idea that she isn't the one he wants, she knows his heart will only belong to Sakura. She let's him trample all over her heart and use her because she loves him unconditionally, maybe cry to her on some nights because he longs for Sakura's love that will never come.

I've read so many fanfics and I've never encountered one using this concept, I'd write it myself, but I'm not good at writing, maybe I'm reaching but it could inspire an angst story made by you or just a prompt or idea/concept for anyone to use. The hurt in this could be inmaculate and I bet a good writer could bring everyone to tears if they read a story like this. You don't have to do anything ofc I'll love you either way, I'm not meaning to push you to write a whole story with this concept by any means or to even post this ask, it's just something I made up/ related to this certain song, so I wanted you to see it, perhaps share your opinion or thoughts on it or just think about it. I love pain a lot hahaha bc I'm not a narusaku shipper in any way, I actually dislike the ship a lot.

Thank you for reading this and pls keep up the awesome work!! I'll always be a fan and support you and your spectacular writing❤️❤️

GAH What an awful fic idea you have 💔

“The Ring that Binds” by softwind - Rated M, Canon-Divergent, Multi-chapter, Incomplete.  Naruto and Hinata are married.  So why is Naruto calling “Sakura” in his sleep?

“Girl No 10″ by meeiwen - Rated M, Modern AU, Multi-chapter, Complete. Naruto makes a mistake with a dancer one drunk night.  Years later when he meets her again, he begins realizing his perfect life is a lie, but he’s too late to fix it.

And

“Territorial” by @bunny-hoodlum - Rated M, High school AU, Multi-chapter, Complete.  When Hinata takes advantage of Naruto’s desperation for love, they’re both a little too much for the other to handle.

Are similar to what you have there.

HERE’S MY VERY QUICK AND INCOMPLETE STAB AT YOUR PROMPT IT’S UNEDITED UNREVISED CANON-DIVERGENT AU RATED T FOR LANGUAGE BUT I HOPE YOU LIKE WHAT I COULD COME UP WITH 😘  THEY ARE NOT MARRIED BECAUSE I WOULD BE TOO SAD

...

Naruto finally makes it to the Hokage’s office, having had trouble shaking off fangirls on his way.  He can immediately tell he’s the last one there, even though it’s the eve of the Rinnegan Festival.  Tense expressions greet him, the atmosphere somber.

Sakura whips her attention back to the desk before them.  “Rokudaime, with all due respect, I don’t think Naruto belongs on this mission.”

Her behavior has confused him all night.  First moving away from him so that Hinata would sit between them at Ichiraku when Hinata could have just sat on the other side of him.  Then pushing him to follow Hinata back home.  He said aloud that he’d be seeing her later, and that he wanted to catch up with everyone first, but Sakura just glared at him...

She’s been pushing him away, more and more every day, breaking his heart to smaller and smaller pieces...whether knowingly or not, he’s not sure about that, but she’s never rejected him from being her teammate on a mission.

Worried, he meets Kakashi’s gaze.

“I understand your concern, Sakura.”  His tone is heavy.  His usual careless attitude nowhere in sight.  “Call it just my gut-feeling...you’re going to need Naruto’s strength for this mission.”

-

Hanabi was kidnapped.

Hiashi and Hinata are nowhere to be found.

“What do you mean...?” Naruto finds himself asking.  “I just saw her.  We just saw her.  Not even an hour ago.”

“When Sai reported Hanabi’s kidnapping, believe me, Naruto, we moved to notify her family immediately.  Anbu can’t find them.”

“What?”  The last memory he has of Hinata abruptly leaving dinner and running off without hardly a word nags at him, inexplicably tightening his chest.  “She’s fine.  Hinata’s strong.  She can take on anybody.  No one would dare-”

“Naruto,” Sakura interrupts, her gaze cutting sharp.  “She’s nowhere to be found.  And as much as you believe that, no one is invincible.  Not even Hinata.  We need to form a plan, otherwise we’re losing precious time.”

“No one is invincible.  Not even Hinata.”

An emptying numbness invades his insides, discomforting slickness muting him.

This isn’t his fault, is it?

-

What if she needed to tell him something?

She was acting strange at Ichiraku.

Quiet, unusual for her as of recent...

But how was he supposed to notice?  Should he have followed after her, like Sakura said?  But they were supposed to meet at his apartment later on anyway, so why did she have to come out early like that and ruin the good time he was having?  She knows how he hasn’t given up on Sakura.

She knows everything about him.  She’s been his rock after Sakura tried to shut him down for good.  So how can it be that she’d just disappear?  There’s no way.

There’s just no way that she disappeared right after she left...

-

Hours.

Hours of wandering around in abandoned, desolate, war-stricken villages in god-knows-where, and nothing.  No one.

He’s asking for the hundredth time, but he doesn’t care, he’s past the point of desperation, and anxiety-laced tension fills the air.  “Taku, you really don’t see anything?!”  The Hyuuga they have on their team led them into this godforsaken wasteland.

Taku turns on him aggressively, getting in his face in reaction, and yells, “What about you??  You think I’m not trying my best?!  This is my family!  Just because you’re Hinata’s boyfriend doesn’t mean you’re any more worried than the rest of us!  You don’t sense her??”

No.  He doesn’t.

His Sage Mode has never been so useless.  In fact, he senses no one besides them in this place, and it’s with terrible unease that he begins to entertain the thought that she’s gone for good.

“There’s no one even here besides us!  Nothing!  Why’d you take us down here?  Where are we even?!  How do we get out of here in the first place?!” he argues back.

“Sakura-san was right!  You don’t belong on this mission!  I don’t know what Hinata-sama could ever see in you, I haven’t seen her smile in months!”

“What do you mean by that?!  She smiles all the time!  I’ve never seen her act so cheerful in my life!”

“So you fucking know it, too!”  Taku glares at him with an incredulous expression.  “That she’s just acting!”

“What the hell do you mean by that-”

And he doesn’t know what happened next, but Sai’s grabbing onto Taku and he himself is locked in Shikamaru’s shadow manipulation.  Chakra’s sparking off his own hands, while blue embers warp along Taku’s.

“Calm down,” Shikamaru orders both of them.  “We’re not getting anywhere if the two of you keep fighting.”  He waits for Taku to loosen his stance.

Sai lets go of him.

Taku throws an insulting glare around before sauntering off.

Shikamaru sighs.  Hard.  “Go cool your head, Naruto.”  He retracts his shadow, and Naruto wastes no time walking off in the opposite direction, far from wherever Taku is heading.

Yet Taku’s ridiculous words ring in his head.  “That she’s just acting.”

But she said that she’s happy to be with him.  That she doesn’t mind that he’s still in love with Sakura.  She said that she’s just happy to be with him.

She said that.  She did.  And she wouldn’t lie to him, right?

She was just acting?

“You’re not going to finish your ramen?” he asked her on their date last month.

“No...”  Suddenly, she smiled brightly, something she’s been doing more often ever since he mentioned that he’s always liked how genki Sakura is.  “Do you want the rest of mine?  I’m dieting.”

He scrunched his eyebrows at her.  “Dieting?  Why?”

“Well...”  She looked thoughtful for a moment before seeming to come to a decision.  “Naruto-kun, you like thin girls, right?”

He knew she was talking about Sakura.  “...I guess...”

“I want to make you happy,...” she started.  She bit her lips for a hesitating moment before continuing, “so I’ve been trying to lose a little weight.”

“Oh.”  He didn’t know what to make of that.  Unbidden, he looked her over. 

“Can you tell?” she asked, her characteristic shyness lowered her lashes, yet she didn’t fidget under his examination, and he could tell how she was trying her best to have that confident persona he admires in his former teammate.

Despite her recent changes in attitude, Hinata’s still been so physically small compared to himself and everyone else.  Under her jacket, he couldn’t tell if she looked skinnier or not, and even if she was, he doesn’t think she really needed to be skinnier.

But then she looked up at him with that heavy, hopeful weight in her gaze, and he couldn’t let her down.  Not when she’s trying so hard for his approval.

He fibbed easily.  “Yeah.  You look really good.”

She shined another smile at him that made him feel good.  Even if their relationship wasn’t traditional, he could at least still make her happy.  He could at least tell her some sweet words and see her sweet smile and-

She was lying.

She wasn’t happy?

He never made her happy?

Then what was the point of any of it?

No, she must have been happy, right?!  She said so!  She told him so!  Many, many times!

After all, he asked her.  All of those times he thought she was faking her smile, he asked just to make sure, and she vehemently told him that she was really happy to be with him.

She said he could talk to her about all of it.  That she could take on his heartbreak because her feelings were so much bigger than...

“Uzumaki Naruto.”

The unfamiliar voice has him leaping to his feet.

A man as pale as a ghost with piercingly icy eyes is floating down to him on some strange platform.  “You’re really as pitiful as I expected.”

“Who the hell are you?!”  He readies his stance.  He’s not in any mood for games, and he’s ready to let loose some of his stress on this very suspicious character.

“Hinata’s fiance.”

“Hinata?!”  Fire races through his veins, heating his feet, and he’s ready to leap at this guy.  “Where is she?!”

“With me.”

His heart rate exponentially explodes, beating into his ears, his skin practically bristling.  “Let her go,” he demands, and the threat of his words leaks from every pore of his being.  “Now.”

The man almost snorts.  “What makes you think she wants to see you?  You only ever used her, broke her...”  His collected expression hardens, and Naruto can sense that he has no intention of releasing her.  “I’ll make her happier than you ever could.”

Several thoughts fly too quickly through his mind to properly process any of it, leaving only residual uncertainty and that deepening sense of his culpability in her sudden disappearance.  But he doesn’t linger on the unpleasant sensations.  “What the fuck do you know?!”  And he’s charging at him, a Rasengan heavy in his hand.

The enemy is far more powerful than he appeared, immediately blowing him back with some kind of focused chakra.  “Weak, pathetic.”

“GIVE HER BACK!”  He replicates himself a dozen times, each of them throwing Rasenshurikens at the man.

Yet more of that strange yellow chakra protects him.  He’s unscathed even under his shadow clone onslaught.  “No.  I gave her a choice, and she came with me.  I’m just here to get rid of you, take revenge against you for her sake.”

He hardly comprehends the nonsense spewing out of the enemy’s mouth, and he rallies his clones into close combat, but the man manages to avoid many of the attacks while landing hits of his own.

Clones poofing away only to be replaced by more, frustration and fury starting to blind him into sloppier and sloppier moves.

“I love Hinata.  That’s why I deserve her.”

He chokes on his own breath, and in his momentary loss of concentration,...

He’s falling.

------------------------*

aaannnnd that’s as far as I want to go with that.  Imagine the rest of the team arriving in time to notice Toneri making his escape toward the sky, and I guess the rest of the story would sort of follow the rest of The Last...Naruto self-reflects a lot in a bundle of depression for a long time and yeah.

...ahhh...  I encourage you to write the fic you want to see in the world ❤️

[world-of-aus]

Behind the Screen - (Part 1)

Pairing: Bucky x Reader

Word Count: 5,412

Warnings: smut 18+

Author’s Note: First chapter guys, i had a lot of fun writing this, and i hope you all enjoy this first chapter. Smut is also not my forte, but i like to try new things so i hope i did it justice lol. If y’all would like to be added to the tag-list for future chapters, or taken off please send me a message! Feedback is always appreciated in anyway, so let me know what you think, let me know your thoughts what your expecting! Thank you for reading!

SERIES MASTERLIST

“Hey Wilson, you seen y/n?” Bucky questioned from his spot on the couch.

Sam shook his head, “Yeah earlier, she said she had something to do real quick before she was going to join us, shouldn’t be long.”

“Wasn’t that like 30 minutes ago?” Steve spoke up.

Sam shrugged his shoulder his eyes not leaving the TV screen, “I don’t know man, if y’all are so worried why don’t you send Tin Man to go find her.”

Bucky mulled it over before he was pushing up from the lounger, “where you going Buck?” Steve called out over his shoulder as Bucky retreated from the room.

Bucky didn’t bother with a reply, they all knew he was going to get you.

You were perched on your bed laptop in hand, your fingers working over your latest post the white glare from the computer illuminating your features. You couldn’t wait to get this new post out; your newest work had your readers begging for more, there just wasn’t enough time in your day to crunch out the words that bounced around in your mind. Recently your readers had begun to get antsy with you especially behind “anon”, there was many coming after you for not writing Bucky to the best of your ability. How did they expect you to give them your best work when you didn’t know how the man was in bed? It’s not like you could confront your teammate and ask him to help you write fanfiction about him and how he pleases women in bed.

I mean imagine the conversation,

“Hey Buck so you might not know this about me, but I write fanfiction,” awkward pause, “about you, and well do you think you could maybe guide me through it?”

You scoffed rolling your eyes at your inner dialogue, you stared at the blank white screen the cursor blinking at you, waiting. Your fingers hovered over the board, but your mind was drawing blanks, the words were there not even a minute ago, how did you lose them so quickly. You groaned pushing the laptop to the side, maybe it was time to go join the others, it had been a little over thirty minutes since you had told them you would return. Deciding you needed the break from the screen you pushed yourself from the bed making your way to your bathroom to freshen up.

Bucky walked the quiet hallways passing the other team's quarters before he finally came across yours. Bucky never bothered knocking, if he reached for the door handle and it wasn’t locked, he would just let himself in. Entering your room, he saw no sign of you except for your lone laptop that he had recently seen you glued to. He wasn’t sure what had you so entranced to the screen, but at the same time he understood it could possibly be a hobby that you were working on, especially during down time from missions or training. He looked around your quarters and noticed the sliver of light peeking from the bottom of your bathroom. Deciding to wait for you, he walked over to your bed plopping himself on the cushioned comforter. He reached for you laptop to see if he could get a peek at what had you glued to the device, and a peek he got. His cheeks were flamed rosy, his pants suddenly feeling a little tighter, while he wasn’t sure what to think, he was tickled pink at the words he read. So, this is what you did on your past time. He looked over the browser, his brows scrunched in confusion, what was Tumblr?

“Barnes what are you doing with my laptop?!”

Bucky looked up from the screen eyes blown wide matching yours, “Uh, I could ask you the same.” he murmured turning your screen to you.

Your heart dropped into the depths of your stomach, face going deathly pale, oh god, oh god, he knew, gathering your bearings you lurched forward lunging for the laptop in his hands. Bucky ducked out of your way falling back into your pillows laptop still clutched in his grip. You crawled half on top of him, “Goddamnit Barnes, give me my laptop back!” you growled.

He continued to dodge your attempts at grabbing your possession, “not until you explain what this is.” he grunted, his metal appendage pushing at your head.

“There is nothing to explain,” you hissed, “now give me the damn thing!”

You continued to claw your way up his body, though for every inch you climbed you were quickly scooted down by the cool metal pushing at your head.

“Nothing to explain?” he questioned, “I think there’s a lot to explain, like what the hell is Tumblr, and why are there people writing about me and some person named “y/n” he grunted “did you just bite my finger?” he questioned eyes glaring at you.

Your movements stalled, “Oh I'm sorry, I didn’t realize your vibranium hand had any feeling.” you deadpanned.

Your eyes caught the moment Bucky’s form began to fall, being a trained assassin had come in handy, taking your chance you lunged forward getting a grip on the laptop. Bucky grunted at the awkward position, “Jesus Christ,” he grunted, “what the fuck, ow!” he growled, “fucking hell y/n!” Bucky being stronger than you pulled the laptop from your measly grip flinging It to the side as he pushed you onto your bed, his frame covering yours, “would you stop fucking squirming, if it was nothing why are you putting up such a fight,” he grunted catching your swinging hands in his, pushing them down into the bed.

“I'm putting up a fight because you were going through my personal things, ever heard of the word privacy nosey ass” you hissed glaring at him.

Bucky rolled his eyes at you continuing to push your frame down into the bed, maybe you could use this as a future reference.

“Now that you’ve stopped squirming maybe we could actually have a conversation.” he murmured looking down at you.

Dread filled you again, “There’s nothing to talk about Bucky, at least nothing I want to talk about with you,” you groaned, “will you please just leave it alone.”

“I won’t leave it alone, I think I deserve an explanation,” he voiced, “you either tell me what I want to know or we can be like this all night.” he grunted applying more weight onto yours. Jesus, you could really use this as a reference but you weren't sure how to describe “Dead weight” would that even be considered sexy, you weren’t sure it would have your readers on the edge of their seats thighs clenched, cheeks rosy, giggling behind their phones, as they read your latest post.

“y/n, doll!” he muttered snapping his fingers in front of your dazed face.

You knew there was no getting out of this, there was definitely no denying what he had seen, possibly read. God what had you even written, how much had he seen. You knew this wasn’t going to end good, “what do you want to know?” you murmured, eyes not meeting his.

“what’s Tumblr?”

You sighed, you were really going to do this, you’re already in the rabbit hole, might as well keeping digging yourself further. “Tumblr is a blog site, users can post different types of media on it, they post videos, pictures, written posts - ”

“is that what you do?” he questioned cutting you off.

You groaned cheeks turning pink in embarrassment, “Yes buck, can you please get off me, please,” you murmured.

“who’s x reader, also who’s y/n, do I know them, because I don’t recall doing any of what i read with them.”

Your eyes slipped shut, oh god you couldn’t breathe, you prayed that a hole would open up beneath you and swallow you whole, “Barnes please get off me, I don’t want to do this!” you grunted trying to buck the man off you, you were on the verge of a panic attack.

“No, not until you explain it to me, then I'll get off,” he grunted applying more of his weight down onto you. This man was a damn wall of muscle, it was useless, there was no getting out of this, a growl left your lips, “Fuck okay, I’m not sure what you saw, but you more than likely saw my blog, and I write on my blog as I answered earlier,” you groaned, you didn’t want to say it, “I also,” a pause, another moan of embarrassment, “I also,” deep breath, “ I also write fanfiction about you,” oh god you cringed, this sounds much worse coming out of your mouth than it did when the words had been in your head. “the reader is anyone who also like me sits behind the screen of a computer reading the posts, and y/n is the reader, its abbreviated for your name, and no you didn’t do any of those things but it’s what writers like myself imagine you would do.” a sigh left your lips, eyes clenched undeniably tight, god you wanted this nightmare to be over, “can you please get off now.” you whispered feeling utterly ashamed.

You felt his hands leave yours, the weight and heat of his body a distant memory as he shifted off of you. Your eyes remained screwed shut, god you had really done it now, you should have never started the blog, what were you expecting. He was probably getting ready to go tell the others what you were up to, tell them everything he had seen, tell them about you embarrassing past time.

“Can you show me some more?”

Your eyes shot open, head turning to the side to see Bucky staring at you intently, your mouth parted slightly, “excuse me?” you choked out, he couldn’t be serious. “You can’t be serious,” you murmured.

“oh, I’m serious,” he murmured grabbing a hold of your laptop and pushing it towards you, “here.”

You glanced from him to the laptop, then back, “you’re actually serious?” you questioned brow raised.

“wouldn’t still be here if I wasn’t,” he murmured sliding closer to you, “now come on, show me, I'm curious.”

You cautiously flipped onto your stomach, you weren’t sure he was ready for what exactly was out there, but he had asked, and if it kept the attention off of you, anything would be better.

Bucky was glued to the screen, his eyes roaming the vast words and posts written about him, your eyes stayed trained on him looking, watching, waiting for a reaction, there was none. He was stiff as stone.

“this is all wrong” he muttered turning to you, “i wouldn’t do this.”

You raised a brow at him, “its fanfiction Bucky, it’s not supposed to be real,” you explained, “the writers are doing just that, they’re writing they’re perspective of you, some of them are really talented.” You added.

“Well yeah I can see that, but still I wouldn’t do it like this, they didn’t capture me right I wouldn’t get straight into it like this.”

A laugh slipped past your lips, “Bucky the writers on the other side of the screen can only imagine these things about you, they won’t always get you down to a T, they can only imagine how you’d be, how they would want you to be.”

“so, then you do it,” he voiced perking up, “write me and this y/n character, there's no one that knows me better than you, well aside from Steve, I could guide you through it.”

Your eyes went wide slightly, “buck I don’t think that’s a good idea, I never wanted you to find out about this and now your offering to help me write, you can’t be serious.” you murmured.

“it could be fun,” he exclaimed, “who better to help write about me, than me.” he deadpanned.

You groaned your hands coming up to cover your face, “bucky you honestly don’t know what you’re saying, you shouldn’t even be this calm about all of this, for fucks sake you just found out I write about you and now you want me to let you help me write,” you paused, “about you, you sure your arm didn’t short circuit and mess with your head?”

Bucky chuckled deeply his hands reaching up to pull yours away from your face, “Look I'm not saying that I'm not freaked out by all of this, but if I can be honest its kind of flattering to know so many people write about me like this, not that I can understand why” he murmured, “but I wouldn’t mind seeing a more accurate description, and who better to give that to the readers than someone that can be guided by me?” he questioned.

“bucky,” you groaned.

“come on doll, indulge an old man,” he teased, “help me, to help you.”

You couldn’t really be thinking this would be a good idea, but then maybe this wouldn’t be such a bad thing. Bucky could guide you through some parts of your stories that just wouldn’t flow through your finger’s right, maybe the grouchy anons would back off, you bit your lip in thought.

Your groaned your body flailing a bit as you really mulled it over, “fine,” you muttered, “but the second you get all weird I’m kicking you out, understood?” you questioned.? t.”

He grinned at you his hands rubbing together, “deal.” You really were beginning to think his arm had short circuited.

“One more thing, you can’t tell the team about this at all, it’s weird enough you knowing, I don’t need the others knowing what I do.” You voiced.

It was quiet for a few seconds before Bucky was speaking up, “do they write about the others?”

“Bucky would you stop squirming, you’re not letting me think,” you muttered turning your head away from the screen to glare at him.

He stopped moving eyes going from yours back to the white screen, you sighed rubbing your temples, you were really beginning to regret ever agreeing to this. It had been about thirty minutes since Bucky had taken a look at your most recent post you were working on, you were currently trying to rub out a steamy oral scene between Bucky and the reader and let’s just say it wasn’t happening. If it wasn’t happening before the whole ordeal with Bucky, it surely wasn’t coming to you now. You had tried time and time again for the past thirty minutes to find the right words but between the squirming super solider next to you, and your mind replaying the events of this evening it just wasn’t going to happen.

“alright that’s it, I can’t do this,” you sighed reaching to shut the laptop.

Bucky reached out for your hand stopping your movements before you could shut it completely, your head turned towards his, brow raised, “you're not capturing the scene right doll, you’re not capturing the moment right.”

Your head tilted back slightly in disbelief, “well excuse me,” you muttered pulling your hand from his, “if you know so much, why don’t you write It?” you questioned sarcastically shoving the laptop in his direction.

He sighed, “I'm not the one that has a way with words doll, that’s you,” he pointed out, “besides I'm better with actions.” he added eyes twinkling.

“so, what are you implying buck, are you going to show me how you please a woman orally?” you questioned jokingly.

He perked up, “I could do that,” he agreed, “that way you could really get into the right mindset, you could really be in the moment.”

You choked on your saliva looking at Bucky in disbelief, “Barnes I was joking!” you coughed, “I wasn’t being serious.”

“oh come on now sweetheart,” he grinned, “you would be knocking out two birds with one stone.”

“look at you learning,” you deadpanned, “and the answer is no Buck, now stop before I make you leave.” you muttered.

He turned on his side facing you, sliding closer laptop forgotten, “I’m being serious y/n,” he started, “you could get real life inspiration for the next part of your post, and also get some pleasure from it, it’ll be a win win .”

“okay that’s it,” you muttered sitting up, “out buck, I don’t have time for these games.”

He sat up with you, “who said I'm playing games?” he questioned.

You looked up at your ceiling a sigh leaving your lips before you were meeting Bucky’s gaze again, “Bucky, seriously, stop, this isn’t funny.” you murmured shaking your head.

Bucky’s hand reached out taking yours In his, “who said this is a game?” he questioned staring at you in earnest.

“You can’t actually want to do this Buck, I get that you discovered my secret, what I do on my down time, but you don’t need to help me with this, we’re best friends Buck, this could make things weirder than it probably already is.” you muttered pulling your hand from his, eyes looking away.

“Us being best friends should make this that much easier, you can tell me when you’re feeling uncomfortable and I'll stop, this wouldn’t make things weird between us, besides you’d be helping me too, we’d be helping each other.” he said his hand coming up to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear. His fingers hooked under your chin, coaxing you to look up at him, stormy grey eyes staring back at you intently.

“Buck,” you sighed, your resolve was really failing you, you couldn’t lie to yourself by saying you didn’t want this, hell you had fantasized a moment like this for god knows how long, there’s only so much writers can offer you, but now that you were being given the opportunity to experience the real thing, were you really about to let this slip you by?

“this really isn’t a good idea Buck, it just doesn’t feel right,” you sighed body slouching.

He chuckled lowly, his body leaning in towards yours, breath fanning across your face, “it sounds like a great idea,” he murmured, “we’d both be getting something out of it, and that way, next time you write me giving our reader oral, you’ll know exactly what it feels like.”

You sucked in a breath at his words, your voice caught in your throat as he leaned even closer, his forehead pressing against yours, “come on doll, what do you say?” he questioned softly lips brushing against yours.

You nodded your head shakily, “okay,” you breathed.

Bucky surged forward his lips pressing against yours, your eyes slipping shut at the sensation of his lips gliding against your own. His flesh hand trailed its way up your body, around your neck where it tangled through your hair, his metal one finding its way onto your hip, squeezing.

Bucky nipped at your bottom lip, a breathy gasp falling from your lips. He seizes this opportunity to push his tongue in, he licks at you coaxing your tongue to dance with his. Your lungs burn from the intensity of the kiss, you pull away gasping for air, eyes dazed as you stare at Bucky his lips swollen and glistening in the dim light of your room.

Your hands reach out to touch him, fingers sliding up his torso, only to gravitate back down, his hands reach for yours stopping your movements before you can reach for the button of his jeans. He shakes his head a soft smile on his lips, “this isn’t about me sweetheart,” he murmurs leaning forward to nip at your lip, “this is about you,” he breaths.

The air around you is tense, your body thrumming with want. You don’t move though as Bucky’s eyes watch you, you wait with baited breath as Bucky’s hand untangles from your hair reaching down to get a grip on the hem of your shirt. He lifts up slowly, pulling the shirt off of you before tossing it off to the side. His eyes darken as he watches your ample breasts rise and fall. Your breath catches in your throat, you had never had a man look at you like this. The anticipation for what was to come next was building.

Unsuspecting, Bucky has you on your back in seconds, his frame hovering over yours, he leans down, his nose brushing against your chin, lips lowering till they’re meeting the skin of your neck. He kisses along the expanse of your neck drawing out breathy moans from your lips, a soft gasp follows when his teeth nip at your collarbone. You feel the coolness of his left hand trail up your stomach your body arching with it, it stops along the swell of your breast. His thumb reaches out sliding into the fabric of your bra, gliding over a now hardened nipple, the heat pools between your legs. A breathy moan falls from your lips at the sensation, Bucky chuckles lowly, warmth breath fanning across your dampened skin.

You whine as he pulls his hand from your breast, his hand trailing lower, you suck in a breath as his hand hovers over the top of your jeans, metal fingers popping open the button. His hand flattens against your body dipping into your jeans, fingers cupping you through your dampened underwear, a moan falls from your lips as he presses a single digit into your folds, wetting the fabric of your panties more.

“Mmm Buck,” you moan.

Bucky grins against your neck, his lips gliding up till they’re right by your ear, “I’m a giving person sweetheart,” he whispers, “i don’t just get right into the action, I like to play a little,” he husks, “i want to have you begging, I want to have you a moaning mess under me.” he breathes teeth nipping at your ear.

“Fuck,” you groan back arching off of the bed, Bucky presses his hand down harder against you stilling your hips. He pulls his face away from your neck his eyes holding yours, “keep your eyes on me.” He whispers, you swallow. You suck in a breath as his fingers push your panties to the side, his index finger finding it’s way into your dampened folds. The sensation alone has a breathy “Bucky” falling from your lips followed by a broken moan as his finger grazes your clit.

His fingers work over your clit your body writhing under his hand, broken desperate moans falling from your lips. A whine leaves your lips as Bucky tears his hand from your underwear, “Bucky please,” you moan.

He chuckles “patience sweetheart, let me make you feel good.” He whispers ducking down to press his lips to yours. Your lips chase his as they find their way back to your neck. He licks, sucks, and nips at your skin as he trails down your body. From your neck, down the valley of your breast till he’s reaching the top of your jeans. You watch him pull away from you leaning back on his feet as his hands reach down pulling on your jeans till your able to kick them off the rest of the way for him.

He’s slipping from the bed, his hands pulling on your thighs as he drags you down the edge of the bed. He sinks to his knee his head lowering, his warm breath fans across your mound, a shiver rolling through you. He doesn’t move, you begin to worry, maybe he had changed his mind, “Buck, we don’t have to- ” a loud moan breaks through your words, his mouth presses harshly against your cotton covered pussy, tongue pressing into you, the fabric rubbing against your aching clit.

“Jesus Buck,” you gasp body arching off of the bed.

He laughs lowly, tongue still running over your covered mound, he gazes up at you from between your legs, “ I told you sweetheart, patience.” You would definitely be adding this to your story you thought as another moan ripped through you Bucky’s head having moved from your aching core to nip at the sensitive skin of your inner thigh.

Your hands reach down to tangle in his hair as he continues his assault on your sensitive thighs. His thumb presses into you, rubbing against your aching clit, the fabric of your panties dragging deliciously against it. Your feet dig into his back, your body writhing on the bed. He glances up at you from where he’s perched between your legs, his eyes darkening, “ you think you could cum like this, you think you could cum for me.” He questions his breath ghosting over you.

A breathy “yes” falls from your lips, your body is buzzing with the need for release the teasing too much. Bucky continues to nip and suck at your sensitive skin, thumb working faster against your clit. “Fuck,” you gasp , “please Bucky,” you plead, “please,” you beg. Your desperate for him, for the need of release. His thumb pushes into you harder, working over you faster, his lips latching onto you skin sucking. A chant of his name falls from your lips as your orgasm takes you by surprise, your head pushing back into the sheets your back arching off the bed, your fingers tightening in his hair.

Bucky barley gives you a second to catch your breath before he’s moving, his hands gripping the middle of your panties, ripping them down the middle.

“Bucky did you just -”

Your words fall short as he’s pressing against you again, his face presses in close, his tongue peeking out to press against your folds. His tongue dips in dragging across your entrance till he’s flicking up against your clit, the tip of his tongue circling it. Your chest heaves as breathy moans fall from your lips, your thighs clenching around his head from the pleasure surging through you.  Bucky grips your thighs pushing them open, spreading you out for him, your back arches, breast pushing into the cooled air as his tongue flicks teasingly in and out of your soaked folds.

Your fingers grasp the sheets beneath you, twisting them in your hold. His mouth works over you, taking you higher, he’s alternating between your clit and your dripping entrance. His tongue will drag over your clit before it’s dipping down to bury into your entrance his tongue fucking into you till your screaming his name.

“Bucky fuck,” you moan, “please,” you whine.

He continues to work you over, moans of pleasure falling from his lips, the vibrations leaving you quaking in his hold. Your fingers find their way into his hair, your eyes glancing down at him the sight alone leaving you a breathless mess. He glances up his ocean grey eyes connecting with yours, you weren’t sure it was possible but they seemingly darkened more as he pushed you closer to release. His arms wrap around your spread thighs pulling you into him more, his lips work faster, tongue gliding quicker as he works you over. A loud moan falls from your lips as he quickens the pace, his name falling from your lips in a silent prayer as your grind  up against his mouth. A moan catches in your throat, his lips finding your clit as he sucks harshly, his tongue working over it with quick strokes. Your pussy clenches, body heaving as the intense pleasure washes over you. Bucky doesn’t stop as he works you through your orgasm his tongue continuously flicking over you, dipping into you to suck up your juices. Your vision goes white as you clench around him fingers pulling at his hair.

“Holy fuck,” you choke out thighs trembling as you wind down, Bucky chuckles as he moves up your body kissing up your sweat slicked skin. He looms over you eyes hooded with lust, a small smile on his glistening lips. Your hands come up wrapping themselves around the back of his neck pulling him down to you. Your lips press against his, a groan falling from your lips as you taste yourself on his sinful tongue. You lean up slightly your arms moving from Bucky’s neck to his shoulders as you move him around till he’s flat on his back on your bed. You straddle him, his hands finding a spot on your waist as he squeezes you,

“I thought this was about you doll,” he husks grinning up at you.

You roll your hips over his slightly, leaning your body over his, “it was, but I’d like to return the favor,” you whispered lips ghosting over his, your tongue peeking out to run over his plush lips. Sliding yourself down his firm body you stop once your seated on his thick thighs. Running your hands down his torso, your fingers work at popping the buttons of his jeans open, helping him shimmy them off, your tongue running over your lips as his cock springs free. You scoot down the bed settling yourself between his spread legs, leaning down as you run the tip of your tongue along the underside of his cock. A low grunt falls from his lips as you take the base of his cock into your hands, your tongue swirling around the tip. You continue to work your mouth over him indulging in the sinful noises that drip from his lips. “Fuck y/n,” he grunts, “fuck you gotta stop if you want me to finish this the right way.”

You grin up at him, you lips spit slicked, “fuck doll, come here.” He whispers gripping your arms as he hauls you up. He kisses your roughly, his tongue running over yours before he’s flipping the two of you, your back meeting the cool sheets.

Pushing your thighs apart he settles between them, gripping his cock in hand he runs it through your folds teasingly before he’s pressing in, a slow delicious burn that’s rolls a shiver through your spine. Bucky leans down his forehead pressing down onto yours, breathing each other in as he rolls his hips into you. His cock drags in and out of you, at a slow toe curling pace. Your body writhes against him, your heels digging into his ass to press him to you closer, you need to feel him, you want to feel him.

Bucky changes the angle; unwrapping your legs,  he hauls one over his shoulder the other gripped tightly in his hand as he spreads you out, the angle driving him impossibly deeper, a gasp catches on your throat, “fuck,” you moan, “fuck right there,” you gasp.

“Come on sweetheart, let me feel you, cum for me.” He grunts his thrust jarring you.

A few more hard thrusts and his thumb sweeping over your clit has you shouting out his name in a breathy moan. Your back arches, thighs trembling as the waves of pleasure wash over you. Bucky continues to push into you, dragging out your orgasm as his takes over, your name tumbling from his lips as he crashes into you.

Bucky slumps forward his face falling into your neck as he takes in a shuddering breath. “Fuck,” he grunts, “that’s going to be a hell of a fic,” he murmurs pressing his lips to your skin.

You can’t help the laugh that escapes you, right the fic, you think, that’s why this had happened, Bucky was helping you out, and help he did. Bucky rolls off to his side propping himself up on his elbow as he smiles down at you, your body lax against the sheets.

“When are you going to finish writing it?” He grins

“Not right now, m’ too tired, hopefully sometime in the morning” you murmured.

“So In these fics do like me and the reader cuddle?” He questions a teasing twinkle in his eye.

“I don’t know Barnes, it depends,” you reply, “are you a post sex cuddler?”

“for the right girl,” he grins opening his arms, “c’mere doll,” He murmurs wrapping you in his arms a sloppy wet kiss placed to your heated cheeks.

Your readers are in for a hell of a surprise,” he murmurs into your hair.

“That they are,” you whisper, “that they are.”

Part 2

Behind The Scenes Tag-list: @ladifreakingda @georgialeighc13 @racewife2004​ @multy-fandom-lover​ @otvlanga​ @sailorstupidsblog​

[pucksnsticksnhockeyboys]

reputations

summary: you’re criminally good, and Matt can’t help but fall in love with you.

warnings: mentions of alcohol

word count: 3.7k

note from the writer: I really wrote this in one night, immediately after posting my last Matt fic. I might have a problem. lmk what you think!

part two

Matthew knew he was no angel. If it wasn’t the opposing players he pested on a daily basis, it was the media that told him so. Most of the time, he didn’t mind. Fights, penalties, and suspensions—he couldn’t help but agree that he was a pest on the ice. He knew he deserved some of the shit he got, but he was getting better and growing as a player.

But sometimes he wished he had a better reputation.

“Matt, your girlfriend is outside.” His brother’s voice interrupted his thoughts. Matt hated that he knew who Brady was talking about. Despite the fact that it had been seemingly forever since he was in an actual relationship, Brady’s tease made perfect sense to the entire Tkachuk family.

“Shut up.” Matt shot back, because he couldn’t argue, and he was too busy getting up off the couch and heading outside to listen to the jabs his brother was throwing at him. He was too far gone and had long since admitted that to himself.

The summer sun beat down on him the moment he stepped into the backyard, and he took a moment to squint his eyes to adjust before heading over to the fence separating his backyard from the one next door. Brady had been telling the truth, the one girl he couldn’t get off his mind since middle school was outside and the wide smile that grew on his face was one he couldn’t help.

You were as good as they came. Weekends spent volunteering at animal shelters, tutoring, helping the older couples in the neighborhood with yard work and other chores. He was pretty sure the moment he decided he wanted to marry you was when you had shown up to Taryn’s first varsity field hockey game with a giant sign saying something about how she would kill it just because you knew it would make her laugh.

Matt nearly tripped when he spotted you on the other side of the fence. You were suntanning in nothing more than a bikini, laying on a towel in the grass in your own backyard. For what seemed like the millionth time in his lifetime, Matt thanked whatever higher power that was up there that his family moved into the house next to yours all those years ago.

For a second, he stayed quiet, just admiring how good you looked. Sunglasses were perched on your nose as you laid on your back, arms tucked behind your head. Your music was playing softly from the speaker laying in the grass a few feet away and you were humming along quietly. He couldn’t stop the smile that grew on his face as he studied you, resting his forearms along the top of the fence with his chin tucked on top of his hands. He knew he needed to make his presence known, figuring he wouldn’t be able to explain why he kept quiet and watched you tan without sounding like a creep.

“I’ve been home for two days and you haven’t come see me yet?” He teased, his grin growing two sizes when he spotted how you lit up at the sound of his voice. Your smile was infectious, and it was the only thing keeping his gaze north of your chest as you sat up on the towel.

“Matty!” You cheered, pushing your sunglasses to the top of your head. You were the only person that Matt allowed to call him that, and he was certain that if his teammates ever found that out they would never let him hear the end of it. You stood up, making your way towards Matt and he could feel his heart pounding faster in his chest as you got closer. It was a miracle you hadn’t managed to kill him yet.

“How’ve you been?” Matt found himself asking, though the question felt a little pointless. He knew how you had been, you texted daily and even the stuff you didn’t tell him—which was a rare occurrence—he found out from his siblings.

“Oh, you know. Same old, same old.” You said boredly, waving a hand dismissively. Matt knew that wasn’t true, he could see the smile you were suppressing. Plus, all of his conversations with you as of late had been about one thing.

“Congrats on graduating, by the way.” Matt wasn’t sure it was possible, but your smile widened as he spoke. You looked happy, but that didn’t stop the feeling of guilt that was bubbling inside him. “Sorry I couldn’t make it.”

“Don’t worry about it.” You squeezed his forearm from where it was resting on the fence, and it took all of Matt’s willpower to not melt under your touch. “You were busy chasing the cup, and I know for a fact that you’ll win it for me next time.”

And then you jokingly winked at him, and suddenly Matt forgot how to breathe. He knew you were teasing, but the fact of the matter was that he knew if he was going to win the cup for anyone besides his parents, it was you.

“And besides, you’re coming to my grad party, right? I need someone there to save me from my relatives asking about where I’m working in the fall.” You continued, and for the second time in ten minutes Matt had been interrupted from his thoughts.

“You don’t already have seven jobs lined up?” Matt teased you. For as long as he could remember, you were always ten steps ahead of everyone. He distinctly remembers you stressing out at eleven years old because you got a seventy-five on a test and thought it would go on your permanent record and you wouldn’t get accepted into college.

“Shut up.” You rolled your eyes, nudging his arm playfully as the both of you chuckled. Matt felt a bit repetitive, thinking about how beautiful you were. He was sure he looked like a lovestruck idiot, but he couldn’t help himself. His self-control was low to begin with, but throw you into the mix and he was absolutely done for. “I’ve applied to a few places, interviewed at some. I’ve got my eye on one place, though.”

“Any places I know?” Matt was a little caught off guard since he hadn’t heard about you applying. He knew you were looking into some places, some in St. Louis and some out of state, but he didn’t realize you started taking the next step. A nervous look flashed in your eyes, and Matt wondered what could have prompted it, but as soon as it was there, it was gone, and you were back to smiling brightly at him.

“And ruin the surprise when I finally land one of the jobs? Not a chance, Hotshot.” You teased with a shake of your head. Matt knew you like the back of his hand. He knew how you liked your coffee and that you hated when he got into fights. He knew that you were a romantic and that you were a little self conscious about your laugh because when you were fifteen and Danny Baker from three streets up told you he thought it was weird. That was the closest he ever got to punching someone off of the ice—and sometimes he still thought about giving the guy a piece of his mind.

And he knew that the nickname ‘Hotshot’ was your way of trying to deflect, and he knew enough to drop the subject. Not that he had a choice, really, because your phone started buzzing from where you left it on your towel. When you bent down to pick it up, he busied himself by admiring the flowers he knew you helped your mom plant instead of blatantly checking out your ass.

“Hey. Matty, I’ve got to go. Mrs. Henderson asked if I could help her with the bake sale for her son’s soccer team.” You spoke up after checking your phone. Matt couldn’t help the way his heart flipped at the fact that you were still volunteering for families around the neighborhood. The only time he could remember actually volunteering, not including Flames events, was when he needed to fill his high school requirement to graduate.

God, you were too good for him.

“Yeah, I’ll see you at the party tomorrow.” He waved as you retreated into your house. He watched as you left, only pushing off the fence and heading back into his own once you shut your back door. He made his way into the kitchen, finding his whole family already in there and looking at him with smug grins. Matt just knew they had been watching his entire interaction with you out of the kitchen window.

Brady was the first to speak up, making obnoxious kissing noises while Taryn started saying your name in increasingly higher pitched voices trying to mock how gone he was for you. He rolled his eyes at his sister, but that didn’t stop him from putting Brady into a headlock.

“If you boys break something…” His mom trailed off, giving her boys a pointed look over the glass of water she was sipping on. The empty threat was enough to get Matt to let go of his brother, but not before messing up his hair for that extra bit of pettiness.

“Leave Matt alone, he’s in love.” His dad teased, looking much too proud of himself at his comment for Matt’s liking. He groaned, dropping his back to further prove his annoyance before he grabbed a drink out of the fridge and left the room.

He still couldn’t argue his family’s comments.

Matt didn’t see you again until it was time to head over for your graduation party, and it took everything in him to not stop dead in his tracks when he spotted you across the yard. You were talking to a few of your extended family members, he was sure he had met them once or twice over the years, and you looked effortlessly stunning. You were wearing a new sundress, he was certain of that because if you had worn it before he would have remembered, what with the way it made your legs look, especially paired with what he knew were your favorite pair of wedges.

Brady knocked into his shoulder, sending him a smirk before slipping off to find a drink. Matt rolled his eyes at his brother, letting his attention fall back to you. His breath hitched as you turned to face him, and he wondered if you felt the weight of his stare. He didn’t have much time to ponder, though, because he recognized the look in your eyes. It was the one that told him those were the family members you told him you’d need rescuing from.

He crossed the lawn quickly, smiling warmly at your mom when she called his name and waved. He’d greet her properly later, you were his current priority. You were his priority all the time, if he was being honest with himself.

“Hey, Matty.” You smiled and as soon as he got close enough your arm slid around his back. He copied your action, his hand settling a respectable distance up on your waist. Before he could stop himself, he pressed a kiss to the side of your head, even though he probably shouldn’t be so blatant in his affection in front of distant family.

“Is this a boyfriend?” Your—great aunt?—questioned. Matt felt his face flush at the idea, he spent the better part of his adolescence imagining what it would be like to call you his. But he never could get himself to make a move. Too nervous to lose you and too worried about what moving away would do to your relationship—if it even got that far.

And then there was the problem of his reputation.

He had grown up watching you do all these amazing things for your education and to help other people. You always had a smile on your face and cried for an hour at the ending of Marley and Me. You even volunteered to help move Brady to Boston when he left to go play hockey there.

He pushed around six ounces of vulcanized rubber on ice. In his mind, he didn’t measure up to you in the slightest. As much as he wanted you, he felt as if he didn’t deserve you.

“No, this is just Matt, he lives next door.” You explained sweetly and Matt forced a smile on his face as he shook hands with your relatives. He hated how terrible your words sounded to his ears, how he was ‘Just Matt’ to you.

“Hey, Taryn said she needs to talk to you, it’s urgent.” Matt lied after a few moments of watching you squirm under the interrogation your relatives were putting you through. From the mischievous look in your eyes he could tell you knew what he was doing. You politely told your relatives that you would see them later, and Matt’s heart jumped in his chest as you slipped your hand into his to pull him away.

“Thank you.” You said to him under your breath, giving his hand a squeeze before dropping it as you reached the drink coolers. Matt grinned at you, watching as you pulled out two beers for the both of you. “They hit me with questions about my love life, job prospects, and whether or not I’ll be moving out of my parent’s house before you arrived.”

“Sorry I didn’t get there sooner.” Matt teased, taking a sip out of his bottle while watching you shudder playfully. He tried to ignore the green monster that settled in his stomach at the thought of you having a love life, no matter how selfish it sounded. Instead, he focused on the way you smiled at him, and how warmly you interacted with his mom when she came over to give you a celebratory hug.

Seeing you laughing with his mom was doing nothing for the feelings he had harboured for you.

By the time darkness started to settle on the party, the majority of the guests had left. Besides your parents, him and his siblings, and a few of your cousins that were spending the night, your backyard was empty. Your dad had started a campfire so everyone could make s’mores, and you seemed to think it was the best part of the day. You were probably feeling the effects of the beers you had been sipping on, though you only had one or two, and tried to feed Matt a s’more, giggling uncontrollably when you got marshmallow in the scruff of his beard.  

He just about died when you flicked your finger across his chin to collect the marshmallow, absentmindedly licking it off as you laughed at something Taryn said. His gaze zeroed in on your finger, and the fact that you had no idea the effect that you had on him was dizzying.

“Get a room.” Brady groaned, though he had been sitting next to Matt and spoke low enough that the parents sitting on the opposite side of the fire didn’t hear. Matt was also lucky that you didn’t hear, distracted by your phone ringing. He glanced at the screen out of habit and a little bit of nosiness, seeing that it was a number you didn’t have saved to your contacts before you jumped to your feet and retreated inside to take the call.

If he had been looking a little closer, he would have recognized that the number had an area code for Calgary.

You had been gone for a few minutes and Matt was starting to get restless. Your mom came out of the house and handed him two popsicles, one for him and one for you, so he figured you were coming back soon.

You did, and you were wearing a wide grin that made him curious. You didn’t say anything, instead you took one of the popsicles and slipped your hand into his now free one, tugging lightly to signal for him to stand up. Once more, you led him across the lawn, only this time you went around the house to the front yard, away from the prying eyes of both your families.

“What’s up?” Matt questioned as soon as you came to a stop in front of him. You were grinning up at him, and he could tell from the look in your eyes that you had news to share.

“I got a job. My top choice one, actually.” You stated as if it was something boring, like the weather. Matt beamed at you, the feeling of pride he had in you coming to the surface the same way it did whenever you accomplished something you wanted.

He wrapped you in his arms almost instantly, careful not to knock your popsicle out of your hand or get his in your hair. He held you tight to his chest, never wanting to let you go.

“Where is it?” He asked after letting you go. Your smile grew wider as he looked at you, and he raised a brow as you hesitated. The longer you stayed quiet, the more he started to panic. He knew it was selfish, but he didn’t want you to leave St. Louis. The best part of coming home during breaks or playing the Blues on their ice was the fact that he would get to see you.

“Calgary. Surprise?” You chuckled nervously, but Matt felt like he had just been told the best news. After years apart for college and hockey, you finally would be close to him again. He was ecstatic, and couldn’t help himself before pulling you into another hug,

“Surprise is right.” He teased as soon as he moved back, though he couldn’t get himself to go far. He was practically buzzing with excitement and the closer he was to you the better he felt. You were grinning, shifting from foot to foot and that simple action told Matt that you were anxious about something.

“But I have one more thing to share.” You said, and that worried Matt once more because he could hear the nervousness in your tone. Matt nodded, unable to get himself to form words in response and instead let his mind run wild with all the ideas about what it could be. “Matt, I, uh, well, I’ve had feelings for you for a while, and I think you feel the same, well at least I hope you do, and I was kind of hoping that we could start something now that we’ll be living in the same place.”

Matt felt like passing out. Out of all the dozens of things you could have said, that was not one of them. He watched, wordlessly, as you licked the popsicle out of nerves and the need to busy yourself somehow while he stayed quiet after your confession. That seemed to spur him on, though, because he used his free hand to cup your jaw as his lips landed on yours.

You tasted like grape popsicle and chocolate, and though it was an odd combination he decided it was the best thing he’d ever had. He briefly registered that the popsicles slipped from both your hands as you gripped each other, and he knew that he’d have to pick them up after because you had drilled into him the importance of keeping the Earth clean when you were in eighth grade and went through a sustainability kick.

It was that thought that had him stilling. He couldn’t do this to you, not when you were so good and not when he was in the press every other week for being the very opposite. You deserved better than him, a philanthropist that donated all their time and money to children’s hospitals—the charity he knew you volunteered at, at least three times a year.

You were too good for him.

“Is something wrong?” You questioned him, dropping from your tip-toes back to your flat feet, putting some distance between you and him. It wasn’t enough to defog Matt’s head but he was pretty sure that wouldn’t happen for weeks, not with the way his entire body felt on fire from just your one kiss.

“I can’t do this… I can’t do this to you.” Matt settled, though he hated the way he sounded so unsure of himself and he hated the very fact that he even had to say it. He hated that you felt the same way he did but he couldn’t do a thing about it because he had always put you before himself. But most of all, he hated how your face fell and your eyes started to get glassy.

“Do you not like me?” You questioned and if Matt wasn’t so defeated by the whole situation he would have laughed. He couldn’t remember a time when he didn’t like you, you plagued his thoughts on a daily basis and he had a framed photo of you and him from his first game in Calgary in his apartment that earned him so many chirps from his teammates. But you looked so proud of him, and you were wearing his jersey, so no matter what the boys said he kept it up—the photo was his most prized possession.

“No, that’s not it. That’s not it at all.” He told you, and somehow your face fell even more. Even when you were so clearly upset, the way your brows tugged together in confusion and the slight pout to your lips was devastatingly attractive to Matt.

“Then what is it?” Your question sounded so tired, so weak, that Matt wished he had never followed you out front and never put your friendship in the position it was. But it was too late now, he couldn’t back out now and he had to stick to his guns. He took in a shuddering breath, one hand tucking a strand of your hair behind your ear before he said what he felt he had to.

“I want you to be happy, and you can’t be happy with me. I’m not good for you.”

[optimistic-dinosaur-nacho]

My Little Quarantine

Chris Evans x Fem!Reader

Warnings: Slight explicit content! Read at your own risk!  Summary: You’ve been in quarantine for a while now and somehow you just don’t get bored of who’s with you during this tough time

Author’s Note: A good friend wanted a Dad!Chris to help me with my writer’s block so I figured I’d do it.

~~~

It was around the afternoon and the Boston sky was still blue. Today was a planned barbecue outside. You were out in the yard watching them run around for the past minutes.

“8 Mississippi! 7 Mississippi! 6 Mississippi! 5 Mississippi!” Chris chants as the kids ran around and ran towards you, “3 Mississippi! 2 Mississippi! 1 Mississippi! Stop!” Tobias runs into your arms, laughing. “Hey, you!” You picked him up as he squeals.

You dipped him causing him to laugh uncontrollably as your husband walks over. “Come here!” Chris takes Tobias out of your arms and tickles him. “No!” Tobias laughs, Chris chuckles as he continues to tickle him.

“Where’s Lydia-?” You yelped when the small girl behind you laughs, “What are you doing?” You asked, she began to run away, giggling. Chris looks over, “Oh, no you don’t!” He grabs her with his free arm as he held the two in his arms.

Dodger began to jump up and down to the three goobers. 

You laugh as you turn to see Scott recording you guys from the porch. You waved at him and he waves back. You hear whispers over by the three who were all leaned over.

“What are you guys talking about?” You asked, Chris doesn’t say anything but leans the two closer to him. 

“Ready?” He asked, the kids nod. “Go!” Chris stands up and runs towards you. Your eyes widen, “No! Babe!” You began to run the other way as the kids and your husband chase after you.

You felt a pair of strong hands turn you around and lifted you up. “Chris!” You laughed, “Put me down!” You screamed when he lays you into the grass and the kids topple over you all in the grass. 

All of you are laughing out of breath, you losing it more because of thie doggy pile. “Oh, god! You guys are heavy!” You laughed. You felt the chuckle come out of Chris. 

“We had a big breakfast-Oh!” Chris and you both groan when Dodger pounces on you two and he pushes off the kids on Chris’ back. “Dodger!” Chris chuckled. The dog furiously licks your face causing you to pull away, “Bubs! Stop it!” You laugh. The kids ran off getting the dogs attention as they leave you and Chris in the grass.

You two look at each other breathless. “You okay?” He asked, you shuffled under his body.

“Might wanna wipe my face, got dog kisses all over me.” Chris laughs and leans in for a kiss. You hummed on his lips and pulled away with a smile. 

“Are we gonna get dinner ready?” You asked.

Chris grins, “You cooking?” He asks back, you playing smack him. “You’re cooking for us! You were planning for grilled whatever you were making.”

“The kids would love burgers.”

“Then you make them burgers,” You said. You shuffled again, “You gonna get off me?”

Chris tilts his head, “Safe word?”

“We don’t have a safe word! Chris!” You accidentally bent your knee and it hits him right in the you know what and he laughs it out as he rolls off you. “Ow! Why did you do that?” He asked, squeezing his eyes shut as his knees bent. You laugh.

“I didn’t mean to!” You rolled on top of him and held his hands above his head. “Safe word?”

He laughs, “It was jelly beans.”

You clicked your tongue, “That’s not what we agreed on!”

Chris laughs, “We did.”

“No!” You grinned. You laughed as you leaned this time, placing a soft kiss against his lips.

“Hey! We got kids here!” Scott calls, you two laugh on each other’s lips before you pulled away to look at Scott. It was just him. The kids had already ran in. You pulled yourself off of him and he stands up.

You two were under the tree and he leans down to kiss you once again. You ran your hand through his hair. “You should cut it.”

“Why?”

“Because all the barber shops are closed, it’s better to buzz it and just have it grow out,” He sighs. “Okay.” You gently grazed his beard and lightly patted his chest. “Let’s get those kids some dinner.”

.

Chris was on the porch, cooking the hamburgers as you were setting up the prep for the burgers. Scott was helping as well. “Hey!” You scold, Scott pulls away from the potato salad you made, he smiles, “What?” You laugh. You look out the window to see Chris outside with a beer in hand, drinking it as he waits for the burgers to cook. 

Tobias and Lydia were playing on the porch with the toys on the ground. You walked out and slid the screen door closed, letting Dodger out in the process. You gently placed your hand on his back, “How’s it going?” You asked.

He pulls the beer up to his lips, lifting the lid over to check the grill. “It’s doing good so far.”

You look over to the kids who were discussing over the toys. 

“No, Tobes... take this one,” Lydia says, handing him the doll. Tobias shakes his head, “No.”

“Why?”

“I don’t... wike it,” You and Chris look at each other at his response. Chris couldn’t help but respond with a laugh. You look at Tobias with a grin, “Tobias, baby, what did you say?” You ask.

Tobias looks up, “I said, ‘I don’t wike it’, Lydia’s trying to give me the doll but I don’t wike it.” Chris grabs his left boob and laughs. You then laugh as well. I guess Chris had passed it on to his kid now.

.

After dinner was fully made, you all ate the burgers and you began to set the leftovers into the fridge. Chris had left the couch with the sleeping kids on it. Dodger jumps off the couch and follows his father into the kitchen. 

You placed the last tray into the fridge and turned to see Chris in front of you. “They’re out, I need your help to take one to bed.” You smiled and nodded. “Yeah.”

You both head towards the couch and grabbed one of your kids. Chris grabbed Tobias and the boy instantly wraps his arms around his father’s neck. “Come on, bubba,” He whispers, he waits for you to take Lydia into your arms. Her legs wrap around your sides and her arms tug you.

You two head to the bedroom and placed them into their own beds. You leaned down and kissed Lydia’s head. The two of you exchanged your kisses and goodnights to them before taking Dodger with you to your bedroom.

You got out of your clothing and put on a tank and shorts. Chris only in his shorts as you two pulled the blankets back. “Come on, Dodge,” Chris whispers. The dog jumps onto the bed and spun around a couple times before resting at Chris’ feet.

You slipped into bed and laid on your back. Chris turned onto his side to face you. Scott had already went to bed earlier before you and the kids did. His bedroom was on the other side of the house.

You turned your head to see Chris looking at you in the dark. “What?” You asked. You could see his smile, “All these years I’ve asked for a family. I just... without you guys I wouldn’t have the best quarantine. You three are just my reasons why I think we’re gonna be okay.”

You smiled at him, you see him lean forward and you felt his lips land on yours. You grin in the kiss as he slightly pulls you close. His warm and soft hand gently grabs your hip and slides to caress your stomach.

He lifts up your leg to bend your knee to the ceiling as his hand slides into your shorts.

You couldn’t help but moan onto his lips.

.

You woke up to the heavy weight on top of you and Chris before you open to see Dodger on you. “Oh, gosh, Dodge,” You groaned. Chris looks up and he chuckles to see their dog on him. “What the heck is he doing?” You asked.

Chris pulls out his phone. “I don’t know. I think he’s upset we’re not waking up.”

________________________________________________________________

Chris Evans          @ChrisEvans   12 Apr “I’ve been watching you two sleep for the last hour trying to organize our thoughts. I’m not sure how to say this so I’m just gonna come right out with it. Why the f*ck do we never go to the park anymore??? Also wake the hell up, I’m starving” @Y/nEvans

Comments 8,087  |  Retweets 45.3K  |  Likes 438K

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~~~

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[lo-55]

Playing With Fire Ch. 3

Ignition

@emrysaf

You’ve decided. You’re going to marry Maki. 

You’re going to marry her and adopt Sputter and Flare, and you’ll all live happily ever after in the cathedral and- 

You’re broken out of your thoughts when Maki smacks you so hard you literally see stars and throws you on the ground. 

“... owe.”

If everything else hadn’t cemented the fact that you were really living inside Fire Force, the pain of Maki’s fist and the hard concrete under your cheek sure would have. Holy hell, how was she so strong?

You roll over on your back to look up at her. 

“I bet,” you begin, “that you could bench press me if you really wanted to.”

Maki’s cheeks pink and she huffs down at you. “Why aren’t you using your pyrokinesis? Do you think I can’t handle it?”

I have no idea how to do that! 

“Nope, Nope! I’m sure you could wipe the floor with me, it’s not that miss!” You said quickly. “I was just in awe of you, sorry,” you salute quickly, and watch pink crawl across Maki’s face. 

So cute!! 

“H-honestly! At least use your spear!” 

You perk up. Spear? The Sun Spear? Is that what you have here? An answer! Finally! An answer! 

Maki takes your surprise for something else. “No one told you that they’d sent it over ahead of you? You should really keep better of your gear.” 

You dip your head quickly. “Yes, yes. Sorry. Can you show me where it is, please?” 

“Sure,” Maki smiles at you, “We’re about done for now, anyhow. Let’s go back inside and wash up. Sister Iris and Shinra should be waiting.” 

Maki takes you back into the cathedral, away from the training area on the roof. The cathedral really is pretty run down. The walls could use a good scrubbing, the floor boards either need to be replaced or are missing entirely, and there’s a lot of cracks in the tile and missing corners. The windows are fine, if not dusty, and the stained glass pieces are really beautiful. The whole place smells faintly of burnt wood and gun oil. It’s not bad, but its certainly unfamiliar. Everything is so vivid. The way it smells. The sound of the building settling, and the birds outside, and the voices of your new comrades. 

It’s amazing. 

Kinda terrifying, but crazy cool too. 

After a quick shower for each of you Maki shows you to the weapons room, where a long, thin case is rested against a wall between two racks of guns. Obi’s shield is propped up in one corner, along with a couple of his weird stabbing things that he puts infernals to rest with. You’ve been here two days now, and you’ve seen him use it twice.

You don’t know how, but you know instinctively that that case belongs to you. 

You go to it. There’s a strap along the back, like the kind on a violin case. You carefully set it on a table, mindful of the bullets stacked on top of it. With a few clicks you undo the buttons on either end and open up the case. Inside is a long staff, deep red in color and capped at the bottom with copper colored metal that curves into a diamond point. On the opposite end is a thin band of the same metal, that reveals the inside to be hollow. 

You pick it up carefully, testing its weight in your hands. It feels natural. Even though you’ve never actually fought with a spear before your body knows where to hold it, and how to spin it around elegantly until you’re facing Maki again. Your body knows how much space you’re taking up, and how not to hit the walls, while your brain geeks out over the fact that you’re actually holding the Sun Lance. 

So cool! 

Is it conceited to say that you’re super cool? Or that this was hella badass? 

You were almost bouncing on your toes you were so excited. 

“Wow, I didn’t know you missed your spear this much,” Maki smiled at you. “You look good with it.” 

“Aha, you think so? It’s just nice to have it I guess. This has been, I dunno. An adventure already. I’m in a strange place, with strange people, and I’m in an awfully dangerous situation. It’s been an adjustment, ya know?” 

You feel like a fool for rambling, but Maki smiles at you kindly. 

“I understand. Even though I was raised in a military family, it took me a while to get used to life as a fire soldier too. Don’t worry too much about it, and you know, we’re always here to help. It’s not like you have to go it alone.” 

You’re heart warms with her words. “Yeah. Thank you, Maki. You’re really a nice person.” 

Once the Sun Lance is safe in its case the two of you leave the armory, and make your way to the dorm rooms. 

Since the company is so small, each person gets their own room. In bigger companies you would be in actually dorms, or barracks, but the eighth only has Obi, Hinawa, Maki, Sister Iris, Shinra, and yourself. Arthur will be here soon too, and Tamaki. Your small company will grow soon. 

Your own room ended up being at the top of one of the towers on the west side of the cathedral, opposite of the garage. Which meant that last night, when the alarm had gone off, you’d been the last to arrive at the Matchbox. Near the garage are the locker rooms, and the communal showers, although there’s more bathrooms scattered through the base. 

In the center of the cathedral is the courtyard where Sister Iris purifies herself, and grows flowers. 

It’s really a nice place. 

“Thank you,” you say again, and Maki nods to you and leaves you to climb the steps on your own. You shut the door and lock it behind you. 

Your room is scant, all things considered. A bunk bed it pushed into each corner, with a desk underneath it. You’ve claimed the one nearest to the window. There’s a wardrobe on the opposite side, and a small, stocky book shelf. 

You need to hang up some pictures or get a rug or something. It’s entirely impersonal. 

You rest your Sun Lance up against the corner by the window and go to sit at the desk under your bed. You’ve already unpacked your few belongings into the wardrobe and the drawers of the desk, including the diary from ‘Fuyuki’. 

Your ‘sister’. The game honestly hadn’t told you a whole lot about her. Just that she disappeared, and what few flashbacks you would have now and again. Like the one you got when you touched your ring and the lighter.  

You open it up with careful hands. 

Inside the handwriting is familiar, even if the words aren’t. There’s no mistaking your hand writing. It looks like a serial killer in a movie has left a ransom note made out of letters cut out of magazines. 

I wonder if there’s cereal in the kitchen. 

You always think better when you’re snacking. 

To keep your thoughts in order, you scatterbrain.

<3 Fuyuki 

 The first entry is dated for 193 AC. After the Cataclysm. It’s 198 now, so this was given to MAIN (to you?) five years ago. That would have been right before she graduated the fire academy and joined her company. A year before she disappeared, around 194. 

It feels invasive to read the diary of the person whos life you’ve taken over, but you need answers and you don’t have a lot of options here. 

I can’t believe Fuyuki gave me a diary! That’s so lame, and super girly. I don’t really want to write in it, but she gave it to me so I guess I should? Even if I am kinda mad at her. She left to go to school years ago and she never comes home! She’s so mean but then she’s nice and its so frustrating! Not fair. Stupid sister. 

But i’ll try i guess. There’s not much else to do in the house. None of the other kids really wanna play with me, and the Yagi’s are busy watching the littler kids. And maybe i’ll have kids and their kids will have kids will have kids will have kids and i’ll be their super cool ancestor and they’ll read this for inspiration or something. 

Good god, how old were they when they started writing this? Twelve? How old even were you? 

Fuck it. 

You kept reading. They/you weren’t a regular writer, with long months going between entries. Some of them were sad, some of them were happy, most of them were angry. They had a lot of complicated feelings on the sister who had abandoned them to what was basically a group home outside Asakusa, and then bitterness at themselves for being so angry when she disappeared. But most of it wasn’t that useful. It was about grades and teachers, and grief. They got into a lot of fights, and they were something of a scrapper. They were briefly enrolled in martial arts classes, but they had to quit because they were too rough with the other kids. So they were a scrapper, but that wasn’t anything related to fire. 

You rubbed your temples and glared at the diary. How did it answer your questions but leave you with more? 

Why is this my life now? 

So much here didn’t make sense, nonetheleast the fact that you were here to begin with. Well. At least you finally knew what your pyrokinesis was right? Even if using it was nearly impossible, and you couldn’t make sense of everything. 

Of course, there were plenty of things in this world that didn’t make sense. Like how sound could turn fire into ice. 

Bringing back the dead made more sense than that! 

You cross your arms and glare at the diary. So far the only useful bit is the part where you’ve had some decent training. Everything else is just the most vague information about the investigation into her sister’s disappearance. That much you already knew, although you didn’t have time to read everything in it. There were big gaps that you just knew were holding important information! 

At a loss, you flipped to the very last written on page, halfway through, and froze. 

Staring back at you was your own face. A small picture. It was your resume for the squad assignments, with your own check boxes and preferences listed. Underneath it was the list you had written before, of Everything You Knew. It was short, with little screen caps here and there. You flipped the page and found it filling itself in with ink that didn’t come from a pen, finishing up what it started on the page before. 

A new page started, this one listed your stats. 

In game there were a hundred levels. You had gotten maybe halfway through? A third if you rounded down. And it listed your level at 40. Underneath had your attack power, defense, stamina, agility, and your special moves. 

You were weirdly well rounded. Three out of five bars for everything, except the SM, which only had one. 

But, you hadn’t put that there! 

You quickly flipped it back and forth before you went to the very, very last page in the diary. On the back cover the ink finally finished filling out. A progress bar. 

You stared at it for a long, long time, trying to work over everything was happening. 

So. 

Now you knew what you could do. Just not how to do it. 

You were out of options at this point. You were just going to have to suck it up. 

You were going to have to ask someone for help directly. 

 ~

Shinra looks up from his work when you plop into the seat across from him, your arms crossed across your chest. It would be a lie to say you’re not nervous. You’re not even totally sure how you’re supposed to ask these questions, but you don’t have any other way to go about this any more. 

You tried the diary. You’ve spent two and a half days trying to get your ignition ability to work without help. Admittedly, you hadn’t even know how your ability was meant to manifest at the time, but even now you can’t get it to work.  

“Oh, hey there,” Shinra offers you an awkward smile. You grin right back, trying to project as much happy-go-lucky-nothing-wrong-here-!-  as you can. It’s made easier by the fact that prior to a few days ago, no one here had known you as anything more than a passing acquaintance. 

“Hi Shinra. I’ve got a weird question for you,” you announce bluntly. 

Shinra looks a little more wary, and he’s starting to smile. 

“Oh yeah? What is it?” 

“Ah, it’s pretty simple actually. How do you activate your abilities?” 

“Huh?” 

“How do you-” 

“No, I heard you,” he holds up his hand to cup you off. “It’s just a weird question.” 

“Hey man, I told you it was gonna be one.” 

You stare at each other for a long minute before Shinra huffs and looks towards the ceiling. He might not be the best person to ask. Maybe you should ask Maki, but Shinra makes you feel secure and you trust him more than anyone else just yet. 

“How do I activate my abilities? I dunno. I guess for me it’s more like I have to turn it off.” 

You tilt your head, listening intently to Shinra. 

“When I was a kid… I had a hard time controlling my flames. They started up suddenly, and burned through my shoes and pants. I ended up wearing these extinguisher boots, and shorts, so I wouldn’t destroy everything around me. It took a long time to figure out what was going on, but someone finally explained it to me. For a lot of third generation pyrokinetics, the thing that triggers out ability is the memory of the first time they happened.” 

You falter. “But, wait. Didn’t yours activate when-” 

“Yeah,” he cuts in, shooting you a grin that’s anything but happy. Your heart clenches in your chest. 

“Oh god, Shinra…” That meant that every time he used his powers, he had to remember his mother’s ‘death’ and his brother's disappearance. He had to think of pain and fear and grief, and he used his flames so often-

“It’s okay,” he cuts in. You can’t imagine what kind of face you’re making. “It was painful at first, and it still is, but it’s a good reminder for what I’m fighting for, and why I’m working so hard towards that goal. I will find a way to stop human combustion. I will make sure no one else ever has to grieve the way I did.”  

“Shinra,” you say softly. “You really are something.” 

Shinra tries to shrug off your words, but his smile is a little more genuine. “I just wanna be a hero.” 

“You will be,” you promise him. It’s all you can do not to tell him the truth then and there. His mother is alive, and suffering. His brother is alive, and suffering. 

They need help. 

But you hold your tongue. You don’t have any way of proving it to him, and there’s already so many things that are different here than they were in the game, or the show. Your presence being one of them. 

You let out a breath. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to bring up something so painful.” 

Shinra shakes his head. “What made you ask?” 

“Honestly?” you rubbed the back of your neck, “I’ve been having trouble using my abilities since we left the academy. I thought maybe if I asked you how you do it, I might be able to figure it out.” 

Shinra looks startled. “Really? I guess that explains why you haven’t used them in the last few days. You never really held back when we were training.” 

“Sorry to disappoint?” you offer lamely. “I just can’t figure it out.” 

“Well… Have you thought about when you first activated your powers?” 

“That’s just it,” you say sadly. “I don’t remember when it happened at all. So that’s not really an option for me.” 

“Oh.” 

You frown, and draw in on yourself. You can’t help it. You have no way to activate the powers you now know you have, and you’re in a bad place to be powerless in general. Not to mention these people are going to expect you to help, and you can’t help, and if you can’t help then- 

Shinra’s hands land on your shoulders, startling you. It’s a warm touch, one that sinks into you with comfort and kindness. Shinra looks seriously at you, his red eyes bright and intent. 

“Whatever happens, I know you’ll figure it out, and I’ll help you as much as I can. Even if I have to protect you in missions for now. So put your trust in me for now, okay?” 

Your heart thumps hard in your chest and heat spreads through your body. It grows hotter and hotter, centering somewhere in your chest and your back. 

Light blooms behind you and you barely turn your head to see a flicker of white fire over your shoulders, wings stretching over your back. They’re small, going no further down than you’re elbows and no further up than your jaw, pale and white and glowing. 

You recognize the feeling in your chest with a start. 

It’s care. Friendship. You want to help them. You want to fight for them and earn and keep their trust. The flickering embers of love bloom into a fire across your shoulders and flutter with undistinguished feather’s. 

~ ~

A/N So! Phoenix is my favorite power, but everyone else seemed inclined towards the Sun Lance, so I smashed them both together!

If you’re so inclined, let me know what you think :D

[ukai-simp-services]

hot cocoa

oikawa x reader domestic fluff

(could be interpreted as a female reader but its pretty gender neutral tbh)

warnings: slight cursing, suggestive content, french kissing, play fighting

a/n: this fic WILL be posted on my ao3, go give me some love ;) @ supernotcool

++ quick note beforehand that you don't have to read: ok so this whole fic was based off an actual day I had like, two days ago, but obviously I don't have a boyfriend or I probably wouldn't even write as much fic as I do. but I DID spend the day making a snow man with my dad and drinking hot cocoa by the fire so, all I really added was a pretty fluffy brown haired boy to make it cute and a little spicy. anyway. I just felt like telling y'all where I got my inspo from bc I personally LOVE when writers do that. anyway enjoy y'all, I hope there's not grammatical mistakes. im still new to writing fics on Tumblr so give me some feedback please!

 Finally, a day off. How long has it been since your school shut down for a snow day? Had to be two years at the very least. You had been itching for a day off for so long now, especially with all the upcoming exams you had, life had become a lot of all work and no play. Same thing goes for your boyfriend of 2 years, Tooru Oikawa. Because of his strict volleyball schedule - and having university on top of that - your boyfriend had a packed schedule. Sure, you complained about work and school, but you always knew Tooru had a much heavier weight on his shoulders than you did. Still, he always managed to seem more upbeat than anyone else you knew, he always seemed to have time for you and gave you all his attention. Which is why it was no surprise that your loving boyfriend was more than excited about today’s day off and he intended to spend every second with you.

 As if you don’t already live together…

  You were seated at the kitchen table, mug of coffee in one hand and your phone in the other. You mindlessly scrolled through instagram as you took periodic sips of your coffee, enjoying the peacefulness of your apartment. In the window next to you, a moving picture of a lovely snow storm was taking place, begging for your attention. You took your eyes off your screen for a moment to watch the storm unravel before you, it was calmer than it was last night, but the wind still certainly shook all the trees. A warm smile planted itself on your face, content with the abundance of snow you were receiving, considering its been a couple years since you last got to experience this. 

 Your blissful moment of silence was soon broken by the sound of your boyfriend, slamming the door to your bathroom open and revealing his robed body oh-so dramatically. 

 “Do you really have to make an entrance even when leaving the shower?” You asked half-bored and half-amused. 

 “Don’t act like you don’t enjoy every second of it.” Your boyfriend smugly replied, making his way over to the table with you. 

 You shook your head, biting back a grin, “You’re so humble, Tooru.”

 He giggled out an, “I know.” 

  You continued your scrolling on your phone, becoming a bit bored of it after awhile. Your boyfriend circled around the kitchen table and planted himself behind you in your chair. The familiar smell of an earthy-floral cologne mixed with fresh mint filled your nostrils as he wrapped his arms around your body lightly, letting his chin rest on your shoulder. You hummed lightly at his soft touch, becoming slightly engulfed in it.

 “You know what we’re doing today, right?” The fluffy-haired man questioned.

 “I don’t, what are we doing?” You wondered, curiously.

 “Playing in the snow obviously, duh.” Your boyfriend replied so matter-of-factly.

  You chuckled at his words, you knew he’d want to enjoy the snow today - as did you - but you weren’t expecting him to ask so early. 

 “Yes, we must, but can’t I shower and study a bit first?” 

 Your boyfriend stood up from his position abruptly, making you turn your head towards him. 

 “Y/n, under no circumstances am I letting you do school work today, it’s our one day off.” 

 “But-“ 

 “Nope, no buts.” He grabbed your arm and tugged you out of your chair, “Now come on, let’s bundle up.” 

 “Tooru-“ 

 After a solid 20 minutes of you complaining to Tooru that you still needed to shower and him assuring you that you’d much rather take a hot shower after being in the cold - he was right of course - you two managed to bundle yourselves up in a few layers of thick clothing, ready for the cold outdoors.

  Waddling down the stairs of your apartment to the front door, you struggled to put on your snow gloves, hoping and praying that no skin between materials would be exposed. Oikawa followed behind you, adjusting the fluffy beanie that covered his forehead. The two of you stood before your front door, staring at the silver door knob in anticipation. 

 “Ready?” You two asked in synchronization. 

  You giggled, then tugged the door open, exposing the blinding white scenery before your eyes. Your boyfriend smirked to himself, before unexpectedly picking you up bridal style and running out the front door, kicking the door closed with the heel of his boot. 

 “Oh my god- Tooru! Put me down you idiot.” You exclaimed, immediately wrapping your arms around his neck. 

 “Not after calling me an idiot I won’t.” He smirked down at you

 “Tooooruuuu.” You whined, the noise bringing attention towards the two of you from a family in the next apartment. A couple with their two kids, who were currently making snow angels and now giggling at the sight of you and your child of a boyfriend. 

 “What’s the magic word?” The stubborn man persisted. 

 “Flatty-kawa.” You teased, only making the man’s grip on your body tighter.

 “Hey, no fair! I swear you and Iwa-chan love to mess with me.” He dropped his head sullenly, feigning sadness. 

  You rolled your eyes at your dramatic boyfriend, “Oh boo-hoo, you know you love us.” You stuck your tongue out at the end of your sentence. 

 Oikawa chuckled, then smirked once remembering his true intention of holding you like this. 

 “Oh god, what are you-“
 

  Your boyfriend responded by swinging you into a pile of snow, your body flailing in the air for a good second before plummeting to the ground with a muffled “oof”. 

  The mischievous man above you couldn’t hold in his laughter, his eyes squinted shut and his cheeks tightened as he doubled-over in hysterics at your expense. You remained in your exact position, laying flat on your back with the cushion of the snow under you as you stared up at the blue sky above you. You slowly sat up, burning death glares into the side of your boyfriends head, as he laughed so hard that he had to bend over and hold onto his knees. You took advantage of the state he was in and reached over to grab one of his legs. You tugged as hard as you could, but curse your athletic boyfriend and his very toned legs. He only laughed more at your failed attempt to trip him, but all laughter was soon dismissed as he took a step and slipped on some ice. Your idiot of a boyfriend tumbled down next to you with a frightened look in his eyes, his right arm catching his fall. 

  Now was your turn to laugh, you fell backwards onto the snow as you clutched your stomach from laughter. It took you a few seconds of controlled breathing to calm yourself down. 

  “Wow, now that was pretty funny Tooru, I have to say-“ 

  You're cut off by your boyfriend tackling you on the ground, pinning your arms down - as best as he could with gloves on - and tickling your sides. Once again, there was only so much he could do with the amount of layers you had on. Even so, you still twitched and squirmed from the contact, slapping your boyfriends strong arms to stop.

 “Please- Tooru. I’m..I’m still so out of breath from befor- NO MORE PLEASE.” He tickled you relentlessly, you were about ready to kick him in the balls before he stopped. 

 “Alright, that’s enough payback I guess.” The boy grinned from above you, clearly very happy with himself. You were too out of breath from the previous laughing plus the tickle attack to retort. 

 “Yeah, yeah.” You lifted a shaky, glove-covered hand up to caress his face. He ignored the cold feeling of the glove being pressed against his face and just smiled down at you. He leaned in slowly, lips barely brushing yours. You felt your body heat up, despite being in the snow, from his action. He teased you by not breaking the space between your lips. You tried to go in for it yourself, but he quickly pulled away, smirking down at you.

 “Tooru…” You meant to whine, but it came out as more of a breathless whisper, coated with desperation. 

 He noticed this and leaned in close again, this time kissing your cheek.

 “Hm?” He tested you. 

 “Kiss meee.” You pucker your lips for him, he couldn’t help but grin at your desperation.

 “Fine.” He gave in more easy than you expected, closing the distance between you and pressing his lips to yours. The kiss was simple, it felt as if it would be quick and he would pull away, but he moved his lips rhythmically to deepen the kiss, turning it soft and sensual. You two slowly made out, your arms still pinned by his hands and your back still pressed into the snow. You only noticed then that his knee was in between your legs, had it been there before? 

  The longer you two made out, the more desperate the kiss became. Your two bodies aching for warmth had you guys grabbing at each other mindlessly. Oikawa was the one to pull away.

 “Y/n, we have a snow man to make!” The chocolate-haired boy released you from his grip as he sat up. 

  You pouted at him, clearly flustered and he knew that. Your cheeks were tinted a rosy pink, he was unsure if that was from him or the cold weather. He hoped it was him.

 “No pouting, you’ll get more of that later, I promise.” He winked at you while offering you a hand up. 

  Your eyes lit up at his words, as much as you hate to admit it. You took his hand and let him pull you up onto your feet. The two of you became preoccupied for the next 20 minutes, evidently dedicated to the snowman you were constructing. You packed while Oikawa rolled the snow, making a dream team of snowman builders. 

  After struggling to keep the second part of the snowman’s body upright - and a lot of you bossing around Tooru to help you pack more snow - you two were finally able to start forming the head.

 “Wait! Hold that thought, can you run inside and get buttons, a carrot and blueberries?” You interrupted your boyfriend’s rolling.

 “Sure thing baby, but why blueberries?” Your boyfriend furrowed his eyebrows.

 “You'll see don’t worry, I'll go look for sticks while you’re gone.” You rose to your feet and dusted off the snow on your pants.

  While Oikawa ran inside, you made a small trip around the outside of your apartment building, collecting a few sticks in your hands. You returned from your loop around the area to see your boyfriend exiting the house with his arms full. You jogged up to him and helped him with the items, the both of you returning to your snowman. You kneeled down and again, both of you were at work. You let Tooru smooth out the lumpy pieces of snow while you prepared your items. 

  You started with the eyes, using two black buttons. Then, proceeded with the carrot, as a nose of course. Next, the blueberries were placed one after another, curving into a smile. Lastly, you stuck the two sticks into the snowman’s body for two arms. You sat back content, admiring the work of you and your boyfriend.

 “Wait.” 

  Tooru realized that you forget the classic 3 buttons on the snowman’s torso, so he reached over and placed them himself. 

 “Beautiful, baby.” You praised your thoughtful boyfriend for his addition. 

 The two of you stood a few feet away from your snowman, arms intertwined as you admired the creation before you. Obviously, you both pulled out your phones and snapped a quick picture. 

 “Ooh, almost forgot.” You tugged your boyfriends arm to settle down onto the snow again with you, “We have to sign our artwork!”

 Oikawa furrowed his eyebrows in confusion, as he had never heard of such a thing before, “Sign?” 

  You nodded, “Mhm. Me and my dad used to always make snow angels side-by-side in front of our snowman, to kinda sign it somehow. Does that make sense?” You inquired your boyfriend by looking up at him. 

  His heart absolutely melted at your sincere words, he smiled at you warmly in return. 

 “Yes baby, it makes sense.” 

  The two of you laid side-by-side in the snow, far enough apart to move your arms and legs back and forth. Once finishing, you stood up carefully - to not wreck your snow angel - and helped Tooru up too.

  You both embraced before your creations, cheek pressed to his chest as you gazed at all the love you two created. Cocoa-colored eyes flickered away from the snowy sight to bore down into yours, forever staring into each others souls. You stood on your tip-toes to place a soft kiss on your lover’s lips, one which he returned graciously. 

                                                             - 

  An hour later, Oikawa was found in the kitchen boiling a kettle of water, preparing to make you both hot chocolate. He worked diligently, adding marshmallows and whipped cream to his creations, then deciding to add a sprinkle of cinnamon too. 

  You emerged from the bathroom, hair freshly wet and combed through, but dressed warmly in a pair of sweatpants and one of your boyfriend’s hoodies. You circle the kitchen table and plant yourself behind Tooru, wrapping your arms around his firm torso. 

 “I got the fire place to work.” The boy in your hold spoke proudly.

 “Really? I knew it felt warmer in here. That’s great baby, thank you.” 

 He hummed a welcome in response, adding the last finishing touches to your drinks. 

  You pulled away as he handed you a red Christmas mug, filled to the brim with whipped cream and cinnamon. You brought the mug to your lips, noticing how your boyfriend leaned against the counter behind him, awaiting your reaction. You sipped the hot drink cautiously, enjoying the rich chocolate taste that invaded your mouth, the whipped cream and cinnamon really complemented it too. Your eyes lit up in delight, already telling Tooru that you loved it without words. 

 “Fuck, that’s delicious.” You cursed causing a chuckle from Oikawa. You always found the funniest way to say things during such soft moments, and it always amused the hell out of him. 

  You both seated yourselves on the sofa in front of your fireplace, soaking in the warmth from the flames. You sat back in the couch comfortably, the two of you intermittently sipping at your cocoas and rambling to each other about everything under the sun. After finishing your drink not long after Tooru, you placed the mug on the coffee table in front of you, then scooted yourself closer to your boyfriend. The flames of the fire had died down a little, but they were still there to keep you two warm. You wrapped your arms around your boyfriends waist and nuzzled your head in the crook of his neck, inhaling his divine scent. 

 “Thank you for today, I had a lot of fun.” You mumbled softly into his skin.

 “Of course, so did I. I wanna make so many more memories like today.” Tooru confessed, nuzzling into your damp hair. 

 You looked up at him, gazing into his rich eyes once again. It often felt as though you’d never get over the way his gaze made you feel. Years and years could go by and you’d still melt under his stare. 

 “Me too, and I know we will.” 

  He smiled down at you, cheeks warm from your beauty and the burning fire 5 feet away from him. He softened the smile on his lips to fit in between yours, caressing your cheek with his hand as he enveloped your lips in a kiss. This time, the kiss didn’t end abruptly after heating up. It only got hotter and hotter, ‘till both of you pulled away breathless. The breath of air lasted a few seconds, before you grabbed his face and continued the passionate kiss again. Lips massaging each other and both mouths full of the other person’s tongue. You tugged at Tooru’s hair, eliciting a moan from him, vibrating from his body into yours. He took this action from you as a sign to pull away and begin kissing the sensitive skin on your neck. You breathed heavily at the contact, tangling your fingers in his hair even more. After a few moments of pure bliss, you felt your lover pull away. Almost disappointed, you looked up at him with furrowed brows. He simply stroked the smooth skin on your cheek and spoke so low and so soft that he was barely audible. 

 “Let’s make love by the fire tonight, darling.”

[timextoxhajima]

Playlist Feels

Member: lee jaehyun aka hyunjae from tbz cause i feel like there are too many jaehyuns around now ;_; my heart can’t take too many perfect men of the same name

Genre: COLLEGE... CRUSH? idk this is probably gonna be my most crack piece (you can already tell by the track)

Word Count: 4.3k

A/N: I wrote this at like 1.30am so please bear with me lol my inspiration always come in the middle of the night because it’s so quiet and conducive 

this will be a one shot cause i’ve got no fucking clue how to make it into a series/short novel without an actual conflict/angst/drama involved :”) if you’re a writer and you see this and you want to make a 2nd part or something, BE MY GUEST

lee hyun jae. 

who was he to me?

oh, i don’t know.

just the prettiest but handsomest man alive. if that’s even a word. 

he’s always surrounded by like, eleven other boys who are also good-looking and talented in some way or another. 

god must’ve invested his entire life into crafting these fine, fine specimens of men to be placed on earth.

maybe there was a mix up somewhere and they were supposed to be angels or demi-gods and god just fucked up. 

but i’ve got no complaints. 

i’m satisfied that i get to feast my eyes on such a gorgeous, rare, one-of-a-kind version of a person i’m sure exists nowhere else in the world. 

he’s known for being one of the most caring ones of the group. he’d make his friends laugh but watch out for them at the same time. he’s so easygoing, i wonder if he’d smile at me if i tripped him over or something. 

you might think i’m exaggerating. 

well,

i’m not.

so who am i to him?

sadly, nobody.

harsh truth.

there was absolutely nothing wrong with the man. there was a lack of flaw, and that was literally the only flaw he had. if it could even be considered as a flaw. i could spend my seconds, minutes, hours, days, just staring at him. it was so unfair that there is NOTHING WRONG WITH HIM.

sometimes it pisses me off.

it kind of pisses me off that he doesn’t have a girlfriend despite half the school simping over him.

i mean, who wouldn’t? just look at him.

there have been rumors flying about that he was gay or something. 

doesn’t matter if he is gay though.

it simply hurts to know he’s not dating anybody.

it’ll be such a waste if such a man ends up living a life alone. a waste indeed.

so what was it that was stopping me from putting that destiny of his to a screeching stop?

well, there was just one problem. 

“hELLO, earth to y/n?” the sudden waving in your face with the heaviest textbook in your curriculum snaps you back into reality. 

“which one of the twelve are you thinking up some magical fantasy over now?” your best friend frowns at you, the vein on her arm popping from the weight of the fat textbook. 

“ah-- it doesn’t matter who i’m daydreaming about, let me have my moment, would you?” you lean back in your seat, disgruntled at her telling you what not to do with your own imagination. sometimes it was difficult to look at her without seeing all the little hints of lee hyunjae in her.

they had the same nose, but that was it. honestly, it was a miracle you just happened to make friends with one of the prettiest girls in school, and good for you, she ended up becoming your friend and stayed in that position for more than a decade. naturally, she was upgraded to the ‘best friend’ title. 

the biggest issue you had with lee hee jae was that she hated her brother getting so much attention, and she has always condemned him about it. 

which was pretty ironic, given the number of love letters that show up in her locker everyday.

but thanks to her cold, a-little-more-than-mean superficial personality, most guys don’t have enough of a pair to talk to her in person. sure, she won’t hesitate to stab a bitch, but you knew her well enough to know that if the love of her life, son young jae, were to suddenly sprout feelings for her and confess, she might just nose bleed and pass out. 

but does she know you have had the biggest, fattest crush on her older brother?

no. 

she’d kidnap you and torture you and brainwash you to unlike him. 

maybe that’s why he hasn’t got any girlfriends.

“you’re zoning out again,” she snaps her finger in your ear and the sharp click jumps you. you bare your teeth in annoyance and feign a hit towards her, but she doesn’t flinch. 

your little high school crush on her brother wasn’t getting any weaker as the years went by. in fact, it’s been getting stronger. now that you’ve seen the way he treats his friends, how kind and considerate he was, not to mention that body-- well--

let’s just say you went from just appreciating his face, to everything in general. it was only a matter of time before she finds out that the one man you were simping over out of the eleven boys was her brother.

of the eleven boys, it just had to be her brother.

“hee jae,” you pull out a pencil and start to randomly doodle in your notebook. “haven’t you ever considered talking to eric?” 

she shoots you a death glare, but you’re used to it. 

“i thought we agreed not to speak of this in school!” she leans into you and hisses, eyes piercing right through your head. if her eyes had lazers, your head would’ve been blasted off completely after years of her angry glaring. 

“no, but eric just seems so... chill, y’know? he’s either cleaning his table and packing his stuff or outside playing baseball, there’s literally nothing stopping you from talking to him.”

she rolls her eyes and snatches your pencil away from you in a bid to piss you off so you’d stop talking.

“give it back--” you snatch the stationery from her and hiss at her like a cat. “you’re literally in the damn baseball team with him. it’s not that difficult to make up a story and start a conversation with him.”

“ha,” she’s finally mastered the art of fake laughter. “easy for you to say. you simp for all eleven of them and can’t choose one for you to worry about it like i do.”

that was fun to hear.

“well, forget eric,” she waves it off. “are we doing anything after school?”

anything but going to your house. i don’t want to be stuck under the same roof as your brother, my heart would get a seizure and i’ll probably die on the spot.

“my mom’s making crepes today, and i know you love that shit,” hee jae snickers, pulling out a baseball from her bag and throwing it into the air and catching it. 

“aw, man... not the crepes,” you pout and side eye her, leaning back into your seat. 

“why are you so uptight about going to my place? you’ve been there a billion fucking times, you literally live there now.”

that’s cause i’m only over when your brother isn’t around!

“ugh, okay fine. but i gotta dash home first to grab some homework. i left some of it at home ‘cause i wasn’t expecting an invitation today.”

she squeals, showing you a part of her that nobody else has the privilege of seeing. “sick,” she gets out of the seat she dragged to yours and brings it back to where she took it from. “call my home number and tell me you’re on your way before you leave your house!”

you nod un-enthusiastically, waving her off before she leaves the classroom and returns to hers. 

you were finally back at home, showered and changed into comfortable clothes while you shoved all your homework into your bag. you leave your parents a text to tell them that you’d spend the afternoon and evening at heejae’s so they don’t have to worry about your dinner, then you dial her home number.

the phone was on it’s eighth ring, and you were already one foot out of the door. usually, it doesn’t take her that long to pick up the phone.

“this little bitch invites me over and doesn’t pick up the damn--”

“hello?”

your grip tightens around your phone and you stumble out of your house, the door swinging shut behind jumps you and you process the voice on the other end of the line. 

“uh--”

“is this y/n?”

“uh... yeah, this is she.”

he knows me?

shut up, of course he knows you. you’ve been friends with his sister for a decade!

“oh, okay, cool. heejae’s in the toilet right now and she said she’ll get it but i couldn’t stand the sound of the phone ringing.”

“ah...” your voice trails off, unsure of how to respond. you were just preoccupied with how soothing his voice was, and just imagining his face with the phone to his ear on the other line was just so--

“hello? y/n? you there?”

“yeah, yeah, sorry i was... crossing a road.” you weren’t even moving; you were just planted into the pavement like a tree. 

“actually, why don’t i go and pick you up? your place is on the way to the shopping mall and my mom just told me to go get some groceries, do you want to tag along? we can head back to my place afterwards and you can get the crepes you like.”

where in the world was he getting all this information from?

“uh--” you stammer into the receiver for the billionth time. he must think you have some kind of speech problem by now.

“you know what? just hang tight for a few minutes. heejae’s still in the bathroom so she doesn’t get a say in what i do if i decide it without her presence,” you hear him walk around on the house and call out for his mom to tell her he was leaving for the shopping mall. “you live on 31st avenue, right? the white house with the blue roof?”

“uH--” you really need to get a grip on yourself.

“i guessed. hang tight, i’ll be there in a sec! see you!”

hyunjae doesn’t bother to wait for you to hang up before he does. the line goes dead and the beep nearly deafens you, but you couldn’t believe your ears. you were about to be in the same vehicle as lee hyun jae. one of the most popular boys in school, the handsomest man alive, the love of your li--

whoa.

too fast.

you shake the nonsensical daydreams out of your head and walk back to the steps of your door. while waiting, you can’t help but to let the quiet crush on him run your mind recklessly. 

what if he was just messing with you and he’s just chilling at home? what if he knows that you have a crush on him and he’s just having fun? what if he thinks you’re weird for hanging out with his sister? what if he’s caught you staring and he thinks you’re a creep? oh my god, what if heejae’s told him embarrassing stories about you and now he’s going to poke fun at you with that? 

you stare blankly at the little weeds in the cracks of the pavement, the thoughts in your head running wild as you slowly convince yourself he’s not going to turn up. 

but the familiar silver family car rolls up at the end of the pavement, and the windows roll down to reveal hyunjae in sunglasses wearing a simple white tee-shirt. 

“did i keep you waiting?” he pushes down his sunglasses and looks at you over the rim, one arm dangling outside the window. 

you shake your head, suddenly losing all ability to speak. 

“alrighty then, get in. we’re heading for the shopping mall.” he nods his head towards the car, retracting his arm back into the vehicle. 

your heart was thumping so aggressively and so loudly you were sure he could hear it. hell, he could probably see it. 

“how’s school? i haven’t seen you around back in my house after... what, about five years? you were always around when i was out, if i didn’t know better, i’d think you were avoiding me,” his voice was so alluring, you had to constantly remind yourself that he was actually saying something.

“uh-- well....” 

come on, say something. anything.

“i guess god just doesn’t want us to meet.”

no, it’s because you were avoiding him. what the flying fuck was that?

he laughs heartily, his teeth catching the light of the afternoon sun and glistens in your vision. “if that’s the case then god really needs to give me a break.”

your little-crush-on-him morphs into a tiny character in your head and it starts yelling at you. did he just say what you think he just said?

“no, i mean,” he glances at you, hands still on the steering wheel once he notices you’ve gone eerily silent. “i would’ve spoken to you and tried to be actual friends with you sooner, but heejae never wants me talking to her friends. you can imagine how she is with her best friend.”

you sigh heavily, the mention of your best friends’ name loosening some knots in your stomach. “lee hee jae is just something. not sure what, but something.”

“it does baffle me to think about how you put up with her for what, nine years now?”

you were looking out the window, and the idea of being in the same car as hyunjae doesn’t seem as tormenting as it seemed once you realise the best support you’ve had for the last ten years was lee hee jae. 

“eleven, actually,” you say without looking at him, eyes zeroing on a couple walking a dog on the pavement by the road. “yeah i guess she can be a handful sometimes, especially with how cold and mean she is on the outside...”

the car stops at a traffic junction.

“but put her in front of one guy and she’ll pass the fu--”

“‘one guy’?” he interrupts.

your eyes widen and you suck your lips between your teeth, wincing a little to yourself when you realise what you just said. 

“lee hee jae has a crush on someone?” you hear him scoff and a brotherly chuckle rushes out his lips. “do you know who it is?”

you were about to protest and stop him from trying to dig the information that you nearly disclosed, but he interrupts you again.

“y’know what? don’t tell me. i’ll guess. i’ll just watch your reactions while i’m at it.”

you grit your teeth and tighten your temples. you don’t realise how sweaty your palms were until your phone slides out from underneath your skin when the car starts to move. 

“is it kevin? no wait-- doesn’t feel like it.”

is he going to just start talking on his own until he finds someone he thinks suits her and then look at my face to read my expression?

“i don’t think she’s the kind to go for someone older than me or my age. so that takes sangyeon, jacob, younghoon-- is it younghoon? no, it’s not... ah, no matter how i think about it, someone nearer your age pops up. haknyeon, sunwoo, eric. it’s one of the three.”

that wasn’t so hard. hee jae must be easy for her brother to read.

“are you really going to let me play this elimination game alone?” he raises a brow and turns the wheel, driving into the car park of the shopping mall. the little gesture causes your heart to involuntarily skip a beat, and you could see his eyes folding even behind the sunglasses when he turns his head.

“your sister would kill me if she knew i even started this conversation, so i’m just refraining from deepening my grave.”

you hear him laugh through his nose. “relax, i’m not going to tell her you said this. i’ve seen the way she looks at us whenever we’re in school. she gives me a look of disgust but she always reserves a blush on her cheeks for someone. i just can’t put my finger on who it is.”

“you mean you notice the way she looks at you and your friends? that’s a little weird.”

the car starts to reverse into a parking lot and he pulls the gears into parking mode. there was a short silence in the air as he lays his finger on the start up button of the car and he turns to look at you, now without the sunglasses to block your view of his eyes.

“you’d be surprised that i notice a lot of things.”

he flashes you a smile and reaches for the door on his side, pushing himself out as if he didn’t just expose both you and your best friend. 

you were just tailing hyunjae while he told you what was on the grocery list, and you start filling the basket. he doesn’t stop guessing though, but the entire time spent with him only made you feel like he was so comfortable to be around.

besides his pretty face, of course. 

you were waiting for him to pay for the items while you stood outside when heejae’s caller ID showed up on your phone screen.

“where the hell are you?”

“hello to you too,” you roll your eyes. “your brother said he was going to get me and now we’re shopping for groceries before we return to your place. didn’t your mom tell you?”

“what? no, she didn’t. she just told me he went out to get groceries.”

“huh?” you look over your shoulder to see hyunjae paying the cashier. “are you saying that your mom lied about me?”

“now, why would she do that?”

“she’s your mom, not mine. why don’t you ask her instead?” 

hyunjae picks up the grocery bags and walks towards you, looking into them and making sure he didn’t miss out anything. 

“this is so fucking weird. where’s hyunjae? pass the phone to him,”

“we’re done, let’s go.” hyunjae stops by your side, noticing that you were on the phone. 

“don’t you dare hang up on me, pass the phone to him!” hee jae screams into the receiver. you wince and pull it away from your ear, shooting hyunjae a look of slight confusion as you hand him the phone. 

“it’s your sister.”

he sighs and places the bags on the floor, wiping his hands on his pants before taking it. 

you could hear hee jae screaming at him on the other end, but hyunjae’s face doesn’t change one bit besides that sweet smile plastered to his lips while he let his sister berate him. hyunjae got bored extremely quickly, and he was already removing the phone from his ear while he repeated the word ‘bye’ into the receiver. 

he hands the phone back to you and hangs it up for you, picking up the bags and heading back to the car. 

by the time you reach the road right outside their house, heejae was standing on the porch, anxiously tapping her foot on the wooden boards. 

“oh, no,” he groans, looking out the window and observing heejae like she was a lion in the savannah. “well, just another day for us people who have to deal with miss lee.”

he says so coyly, pushing himself out of the car and going to open the door of the backseat. you help yourself out, and heejae storms toward you, fists balled by her side and steam coming out through her ears.

you thought she was going to scream at you for accepting a ride from hyunjae, but she dodges you and opens the backseat door opposite hyunjae to yell at him in the car. 

“what made you think it was a great idea to pick her up? didn’t we have a deal that both our friends were out of bounds to each other?”

wait what--

“yah, lee hyunjae!” she yells at the top of her voice as he ignores her, pulling out of the car and walking towards the house. “we had a deeeeeaaaaaaal!” 

you grab onto heejae and turn her around, trying to peel her attention away from her brother and to you so you could get a grasp on what she just said.

“did you just say what i think you just said?!” you blink in surprise at her, and the thought of hyunjae finding an excuse just to spend time with you melts you into a puddle of hopeless goop. 

“no,” she says with a stern face, lifting a finger and pointing at you in the face. “no.”

“well--” she yanks herself out of your grip and turns to the house. “what’s so bad about dating your siblings’ friends? you like eric.”

she literally screeches to a stop and turns around with eyes that were burning. honestly, it was pretty funny to see her so riled up, knowing that she wasn’t angry at you. she was angry with hyunjae for... whatever he did, and the fact that she just had to fall for someone in hyunjae’s circle of friends. it was a slap in her face, or whoever thought about the no-dating-siblings’-friends pact.

“is that why you don’t want to talk to eric? because of this... deal?” you raise a brow, entertained, completely forgetting that there was the slightest chance that hyunjae might’ve been looking for an excuse to hang out with you, and he had just succeeded.

she had no words, but her silence was enough to let you unpack the situation.

“ah... i see,” you fold your arms across your chest and smirk at her. then you remember you were standing right outside lee hyunjae’s house. this was your chance to dig the information out from her. “so if this deal is stopping you from talking to eric, then is it safe to assume that it’s similar for hyunjae?”

you could see her bottom lip quivering upon your question, as she realises that you’ve finally found out why she was keeping a distance from her own teammate. but her silence also pushes you further into confusion. does that mean--

“look, you can’t date hyunjae, okay? i forbid it. the last time a girl dated someone in that group of friends of his, they broke up because she got bullied by other girls in school. i told hyunjae he wasn’t allowed to date any of my friends so i wouldn’t need to beat the fuck out of any bullies and get myself expelled,” she huffed and hugged her torso. “and i made him agree to that deal by promising him that neither i nor any of my friends would date his.”

you shake your head, fingers pressing into your temples and hair while you let the story unfold from her narration. 

“my mom didn’t tell me about him going to get you because... well... he--”

“i like you!”

your heart stops and you think your blood stopped flowing through you as well. heejae’s head snaps back to look at the house and the source of noise, and she pulls out a shoe to hurl it at hyunjae. 

“ah--!” he starts yelling once she reaches him with the shoe. “let me at least try, god damn it! sunwoo only let his girlfriend get bullied because he’s a dumbass-- ow! but i’m not gonna let her get bullied, i promise!”

you slowly turn your head to see hyunjae trying to dodge every hit, and he starts running away from her and toward you. he pulls you in front of him so you were standing between him and heejae, who was holding onto the shoe so tightly, her knuckles were turning white. 

“y/n, take a chance with me, would you? i’ve always noticed the both of you looking at us but it always bothered me that i have no idea who either of you are looking at--”

he dodges a side swing, and your view of heejae trying to reach him was pretty hilarious, if you weren’t acting as his shield. 

“what makes you think she’ll say yes?! she can’t even choose--”

“i do, heejae,” finally, you’ve decided to shoot your shot. heejae freezes with the shoe in mid-air, and hyunjae’s hold on your shoulders tighten. “i’ve only said i can’t choose only because i didn’t want you to know that it was your brother i liked.”

you couldn’t believe what was coming out of your mouth. all that effort to keep it hidden only to expose yourself infront of both heejae and her brother at once?!

she looked like she wanted to slap you with the shoe now, and you flinch when she shifts, closing your eyes to brace for impact. 

but it doesn’t come. 

you open one eye and look at her, and she looked like she’s completely resigned to fate. she shakes her head like your mother would when you did something stupid, and she squats to get her shoe back on her feet. 

“i give up,” she grunts, shoving her feet into her shoe and tying the laces messily before standing up again. “of all eleven of them, him?” she raises an agitated brow and points to the boy hiding behind you. 

“it wouldn’t have been so annoying if it had been one of his friends, but him?!” 

you turn back to look at hyunjae, who was giving you puppy eyes as if he was already your boyf--

too fast. 

“does it look like i chose to like him?” you pout, hands reaching out to her and trying to play for affection. 

“for fucks’ sake,” she groans, face palming herself. “now i’m going to look like a shitty friend and sister if i don’t let you two date.”

“on the bright side..” you pull her into a hug and tighten your hold, knowing that whatever you were going to say next was going to warrant another violent outburst from her. “if hyunjae and i date, that means the deal’s broken and...”

“you can talk to eric now.”

“AH! SO IT’S ERIC?!”