#now im a bit terrified to go back to a gym?

[alphajocklover]

Hii, Im a nerdy gay guy, who hasnt touched the gym in his life and is terrified of social interaction. Right now I´m craving for a bar of snickers.

A part of you had always thought people were laughing at you behind your back. It wasn’t a rational fear. You were a nice enough guy, one who didn’t even really stand out enough to get mocked. But for some reason you always worried that people were laughing at you. You were so anxious about being judged that you avoided doing anything. You didn’t talk to people because you didn’t want to make a bad first impression. You didn’t do any of your nerdy hobbies because you didn’t want to be laughed at and bullied, and you didn’t try to fit in with any of the other groups because you didn’t want to be seen as a poser. You were so worried about people laughing at you, you barely did anything.

Until you ate that snickers bar.

You don’t remember where the candy came from, but you didn’t question it when you found it with your Halloween candy. As you bit into it you felt the smooth chocolate break under your teeth, giving way to crunchy nuts and delicious carmel. There was something about the candy that send waves of pleasure down your spine and throughout your entire body. You get so good you couldn’t help but laugh. You let loose an unusually deep and dull guffaw, one that shock your entire chest. As you laughed your body began to grow, your chest puffing out and your shoulders widening. As your muscles grew your own laugh echoed in your head. You couldn’t help it. It was just so… funny! You couldn’t stop laughing… at how pathetic you used to be!

He was so scared of people laughing at him, at people judging him, he did basically nothing. You weren’t going to be like that. The new you wouldn’t be the one getting laughed at, he’d be the one laughing at geeks and losers. He’d be the one making the jokes, not the one getting joked about. You’d be the rare type of guy whose both hilarious and fucking sexy, the guy whose both the class clown and big man on campus. The new you smirked, a dumb grin on your face as your laughter died down to a light snicker. You finished off the candy bar and strutted out of your apartment. It was time to rule this campus, as both jester and king.

[shouyuus]

OMG sunlight & ribbon ?!?! or all of them if you are down?!?! heh>:)

selfship ask game!!! (evie r u ready u asked for this lmfao here's everything else i didn't get asked!!!)

heaven sent ৻ꪆ how did you and your lover meet?

in line at a coffee shop! it was right after ballet practice for me, and right after boxing practice for her, so we were both kinda in that weird "workout" high? she gave the barista her number to give me and paid for my coffee.. and things just kinda went from there! u__u

mocha ৻ꪆ what was your first kiss like?

so she took me out to dinner the day after -- and she did wait till we were back in her car before asking if she could kiss me. tho later she admitted that there were times when we were talking during dinner that she wanted to just do it but we were in the middle of an italian restaurant lmfao

confetti ৻ꪆ if you and your lover are married, in what season did you get married? was it a big or small wedding? what was the theme?

not married yet! but we've def talked about it !!! and we'd do it in fall probably! not too cold, but not hot either -- i do terribly in summer and honestly. she does worse LOL -- it'd be a pretty big thing (i'm a drama queen at heart and also just like on a day to day basis so LOL) and the theme would've been just "show up as if you were going to the met gala" -- everyone had to literally show the FUCK up or else they'd get fit-checked and clocked at the entrance like... you best be FAB for this wedding okay u__u

cut for length!!!

caramel popcorn ৻ꪆ do you and your lover have any children?

no kids! but vi does teach kickboxing in her free time at the gym she trains at. she's way better with kids than i am (i'm kind of terrified of them okay) and the few times i've been to the gym while she was teaching, she called me 'tinkerbell' and now all the kids are convinced that she's dating the fairy from peter pan LOL

biscuit ৻ꪆ do you and your lover have any pets?

no pets -- but do have talked about getting a dog! but i mean, vi's a big puppers already >_> like. she's such a golden retriever gf HAHAH. also my scary dog privilege so.

sunlight ৻ꪆ what does a perfect saturday morning look like for the two of you?

sleeping in late. making out in bed. having like the most mix-matched breakfast in bed -- leftovers of whatever, feeding each other bits of cheese, just chatting sleepily about everything, laughing at dumb memes together, spooning and napping till the early afternoon

ladybug ৻ꪆ if they were to send a bouquet of flowers to your home, what kind of flowers would they send? and what would the notecard say?

pink peonies! bc they're one of my fav flowers :) and it'd probably be after some kind of ballet premiere where she knew i was really tired or something. the card would say something simple like "a princess deserves fresh flowers"

polaroid ৻ꪆ what’s your favorite picture of them? what’s their favorite picture of you?

i will not lie i def have a secret album of just her in all her tattooed glory lol. like she yummy! can u blame me! i do like her back tat the most and she knows it asldkjd. her fav pic of me? idk prob a dumb pic of me sleeping with my mouth open HAHAHAH

chocolate ৻ꪆ where do the two of you love to travel to?

anywhere! we try to take vacations together at least once or twice a year, or just do lil weekend trips if/when we can. bc our schedules can be hectic, it happens less than we want, but when we do -- it's always fun. europe's one of my fav places just bc the ballet culture there is so deep, and she likes anywhere with a good food market and local street cuisine hehe

dirty martini ৻ꪆ what’s your sex life like? share whatever you’d like!

good??? lmfao. the sex is good! we do switch off top/btm quite frequently. vi's very much service top/power bottom, and im more soft dom/brat/pillow princess so the dynamics work out well. she's def JUST a tad more horny than i am but im a-okay with that ;) she knows what to do to get us both in the mood i must say

rose petal ৻ꪆ how do you two feel about dry humping?

fine as long as it leads to something else! :)

blossom ৻ꪆ praise or degradation? a mixture of both?

both! she likes to be praised. i like to be degraded. can i make it aannymore obviouss lsdjkfosdi

coconut ৻ꪆ where do they like to come?

on my mouth tbh she likes it when she can see my face just covered in her slick, likes to wipe my lips with her thumb and press it into my mouth u__u -- save that tho, she does like making herself cum on her strap first before fucking her cum into me

macaroon ৻ꪆ where do you and your lover adore to have sex?

anywhere pft LOL she's a horndog and works out enough (for both of us tbh) to hold me up against.... like anything so. its rly up to her at that point. HAHAHAHAH. i personally am basic and like the bed, but the shower is also nice just bc the cleanup is easy. the water bill does get worrisome tho......

[pettyprocrastination]

TJ I hope you're well!! I had a quick question. How did you get into weight training? Ive been wanting to get more into it (i have noodle arms RIP me), but i. Literally have no idea where to start. Any advice? I'm not sure if I should like. Do a gym membership thing or start with home weights?? There's so much stuff out there and I have no idea where to go with it :') Anyway, i hope you have a lovely day!! 💖💖

Hey love!! I’m doing well, this year has been a bit of a whirlwind but ive got my head on straight haha.  I hope you’ve been doing well!

So here comes a very long winded explanation of my fitness journey and some advice coming in!

I started consistently working out in about september/august when I was still in college and had a built in membership in my tuition. There was a womens weightlifting club at my university that helped me get myself comfortable with weightlifting terms/finding some gym buddies until i felt comfortable to start going with myself. I’m now going relatively consistently on my own, my usual routine was 5 days a week but finding the energy to get there while doing my 9 to 5 has been a bit of a time management shift that im trying to get myself back into. 

Funny enough you reach out because I’m currently writing up a new routine for me to follow for the next two months to get more lower body strength training because I signed up for a deadlift competition for charity in june! (absolutely terrified for it because my lower body strength is still pretty light however this is my chance to get my feet on the ground in terms of getting some experience in powerlifting so! Here’s to trying new things lmao)

 I had played around with using some at home weights in the past multiple times but the issue with using a home weight set is that if you’re following a plan of progressive overload (following a weight training regime that consists of increasing weight over time) you’ll  eventually come to a flat stall unless you have a full weight set from 20-50’s with a bench which can be a pretty penny to get. I only had dumbbells that went from 10 to 20s so after i hit that for certain workouts I couldn’t go up. 

However- that being said! At home workouts can be a great place to start to get yourself used to the movements and following a consistent routine so that if you shift into getting a gym membership you already have a bit of a plan you’ve been working with. 

All-in-all, if you’re like me and you have some gym-anxiety I’d maybe start off with working at home, getting yourself comfortable with body weight and beginner weight workouts before shifting into getting a gym membership so when you go in you have the “okay, I know what im doing and what I want to hit” mentality while also working yourself into using the machines over time. 

As usual- I’m always happy to talk more and if you want to chat about workouts/form/or anything under the sun I’d be pleased as punch for it babes <3

[thebestofoneshots]

Hi! U need to add Poland to the country list, im sorry luvie. Ur spreading like a Plague Inc. virus, im sorry hahahah also im the guy that some time ago send u an annon about GC some time ago, You have asked me some questions which im sorry for not responding to ig life got busy(i did do a mountain bike marathon tho very epic). Anyway,

1. You are not fucking anything up luv, it's not coming of fetishy or objectifingly. Ur doing allright

2. When it comes to portraying falling for someone, there is no inherent difference between falling in it as a men or a woman. But I am just a guy and never been a woman so idk. Everyone is diffrent too, and I think you write them all very emotionally charged. Full of nuance and depth qnd all those feelings that just might burst.

(I might be a few chapters behind but I really like the emotionally repressed and self destructive Remus as in it makes sense. It makes a lot of sense for a guy I think. Irl he would most probably be the typa fella that starts going to the gym or gets into 1200cc piss missile motorcycles. Maybe even drink a bit too much, but "strong" enough to get over himself and use that toxic masculinity to go back to "normal")

However, after thinking about it and like whilst keeping in mind what I said earlier - I do have a gf. Looking at me and my Sunshine, whilst strongly generalizing - I think it took me longer to fall for her. Like acually fall for her, not just like her and think she is one of the most beautiful woman on earth. But now as a guy, idk I just think about her a lot, I'm more on the logical side then her. Also way more reserved idk uhh I have some sa experience so it might be just me but after chatting a bit with some people yeah guys usually more reserved waiting for the sign or something. Idk it's ig hard to describe normality bcs it's just normal to me lol

3. When it comes to specific scenes uhhh pooki what can I tell you xD they have great chemistry, with Rem hoping back and fourth. It makes sense that a lot of them are sexually charged since they cannot connect romantically (at least as far as I've read). If you have more specific ones that would be easier to say xD

A mountain bike marathon? OMG that sounds AMAZING! You guys are all mindblowing ૮꒰ ˶• o •˶꒱ა

Thank god I'm not coming off as objectifying, I swear I was terrified, I feel like there is a very thin line, especially for BL and I wanted to portray it right and do it justice, especially since I know a lot of fanfiction can be complicated, and I have read plenty of people (specifically queer men) complaining about the way their relationships are typecasted and portrayed in said media.

I definitely focus heavily on their feelings, but that's kind of the reason I decided to write GC in the first place, I wanted to explore the complications of a throuple hehe.

It makes so much sense that guys would be more reserved I think, but I think especially in queer situations, both for men and women would be, since you might not be sure if the other person is actually queer too, idk if that makes sense?

Regarding specific scenes, I remember I was super nervous when I wrote the library scene with Sirius and Remus in Chapter 26, since it was Sirius' first time to feel something for Rem, and panic over it, I was so scared it wasn't doing it right. And also in chapter 31, when Sirius sees Minho and Tom kiss and has another gay panic revelation moment. I mean, I'm not sure when I figured I was pansexual but I think if I had seen two girls kiss in a closet and I didn't know about it, it would have definitely done something to me if that makes sense.

Sending a bunch of love all the way to Poland, thanks for answering all my questions, darling ☆૮꒰•༝ •。꒱ა

Read Gilded Constellations

[treatbuckywkisses]

HI I STAYED UP WAY TOO LATE TO READ THIS PART !!!! :))

(also this might be my longest rb so far)

SIX UPON A TIME

"You weren’t sure what you wanted him to do, but it was fun to watch the time bomb tick." - let's kiss him on the mouth 🫶🏻

"A reason to get up in the morning." - SHUT. YOUR. MOUTH.

"But then you blink back into reality again when Bucky sits you down on the closed lid of your toilet and slowly makes you let go of his shirt, kneeling down in front of you. The blue of his eyes is devastating, even though you have to keep blinking to keep him in focus." - No I can't do this 

"Maybe that’s the most terrifying thought of them all. You would die for him. Once, twice, however many times are necessary if that meant that he’s safe. " - Nika I'm fucking crying. I wish I was exaggerating but I'm actually fucking crying before 10pm.

"But it seems like you haven’t known it at all, because right now, you feel the knowledge of it, of him, surge through you with all its facets. You can’t even begin to put it into words, because where would you start? How do you explain what he makes you feel when he hasn’t been there himself, not in any way that matters or sticks? And if it’s never happened at all, if time keeps unraveling like this, how can it even be real? " - the woman that you are. Oh. My. God. You are completely unreal this is phenomenal.

"His breath hitches when they dip lower, almost reaching the place you’ve watched dimple when he laughs, but he doesn’t move away. He doesn’t laugh, either." - I have actual tears in my eyes you are so evil 

"That day, he dies with your stupid nickname on his lips, twisted into something that looks strangely close to that earlier smile. This one doesn’t have time to reach his eyes, though." - Nika I'm fucking sick to my stomach what the fuck is wrong with you 

Brief intermission bc I got too into it and read the rest twice before coming back to make notes (I was too immersed)

A crack in the sky you are insane I would FREAK

Where TF does bucky go during the day. As a naturally nosy gal the unknowns in this story make me ITCH I can't wait for everything to be revealed

"Why won’t you look at me? " - this is so hurtful why are you being so mean to me

HOW IS THE DELIVERY MAN EARLY IM LITERALLY IN SHOCK AND WE MOVED ON FROM THIS TOO FAST????????

"You take a sip of your tea and some feeling returns to your translucent fingers. Strange’s cloak draws itself around your shoulders." - hehe we have the cloak 🫶🏻 

""I came to you," you realize. "Or, I will, once I get out of this." The relief that washes over you makes you want to sob. "So there is a way out?"" - why did this make ME relieved like I'm stuck in the loop too 😭 I literally have felt anxious for our dear reader like I'm sick and this has soothed my heart the smallest bit (I'm still scared of you)

"You can’t help but wonder when he’s last tried the bed." - Frick you for putting him in the floor what has my baby done to you let him be comfortable 😭😭 

"No," Strange answers. "This is just when he wakes up." - this made me LAUGH I needed that 

CAPS BDAY IM CRACKING UP THATS SUCH A FUN SILLY MOMENT

"He might has well have doused you in a bucket of ice water. You’re suddenly very aware of every single cell in your body, and you don’t like the challenge sparkling in his eyes." - THEY ARE SO IN LOVE MY GOD IM SICK 

Why are we waking up to silence I'm gonna throw up Nika 

What did the powers do 

Alpine can see us that is both cute and scary 😅 

"You lose a few hours here and there, time seemingly speeding up at random sometimes now. One morning, Bucky isn’t in the gym like he usually is, and you work yourself up over it so much you nearly have a panic attack. In the end, you almost crash into him outside of his room, and a rush of reassurance floods through you with such force you can’t even look at him." - what is wrong with you 

"That time, Sam is there when Bucky gets shot, and it’s his cry that follows you into the next day. Your hands are clean this time, and somehow that feels worse." - how dare you write these 2 paragraphs and also put them so close together????????

"And then it’s you who’s speechless, because the shock on Peter Parker’s face is more than you bargained for." - FULL. BODY. CHILLS. WHAT A MIND YOU HAVE NIKA. I WILL NEVER GET OVER THIS.

"Sweat pearled on your forehead as you and the universe held your breath again. You could feel your hold slipping with every second that wasn’t allowed to pass. Time was impatient with you." - THE LAST LINE ?????? I'm speechless 

"And with time stumbling and flailing around in confusion, you made it out of the building and into the waiting cab." - ok chapter 7 pls 🫶🏻 

I'm kidding you are PERFECT I can't believe I missed out on this for as long as I did?!!!!!!! Thank you so much for sharing your incredible brain with me I want to kiss you on the mouth I love you!!!!!!!

time after time [6]

series summary: After what starts out as a fairly normal mission, you find yourself stuck in a time loop. Which would already be bad enough in itself if it didn’t also mean having to watch Bucky die over and over again.

pairing: bucky barnes x f!reader

word count: 12.8k

chapter warnings: maybe reacquaint yourselves with the story premise, it's been a hot minute; characters refusing to be honest with themselves and each other; violence against side characters, minor injury descriptions; strange is still annoying

a/n: this is quite possibly the scariest fic update i've ever made. a lot has happened since the last chapter was posted, and i won't bore you with all of it. suffice it to say, i missed sharing this story. thank you for being patient with me.

series masterlist | main masterlist | read on ao3

six: butterfly effect

Working with Sam and Bucky was different than working with Natasha and Steve had been.

At the Compound, it had felt terrifyingly easy to find your place, to slip into the new role they granted you as if you were always meant to fill it. You’d felt that way before, and it hadn’t turned out quite so well. Maybe that was why you used to dread the end.

Now, however, for the first time in a while, you constantly had to prove yourself in order to not be left back in that dark place they’d found you in, alone and trying to make sense of any of it. And you liked that. The challenge was something you could live with, something you could enjoy more than the ever chilling anxiousness that things were simply too good to be true.

So when Sam called you on for a follow-up mission shortly after the first one, you jumped at the chance.

It didn’t matter that you barely talked about anything but work, even when you were hanging out in your spare time; in fact, you much preferred that to digging up the past. You even learned to find a wicked sort of enjoyment in provoking Bucky’s initial dislike of you to the point of where he would barely speak to you at all unless it was to snap at you.

You weren’t sure what you wanted him to do, but it was fun to watch the time bomb tick.

It wasn’t as easy to get under the new cap’s skin.

"You’re making us sound like we’re partners in a law firm," Sam said, a smile clearly audible in his voice even though his eyes didn’t betray it. Bucky didn’t even dignify you with a clench of his jaw.

"What?" you said, crossing your legs. "Every newspaper in the city calls you 'Wilson and Barnes'. Don’t you ever read the articles about yourselves?"

"Unlike some people, I don’t have all the time in the world," Sam said, leaning back on the couch with his eyes closed.

"Pity. The Bulletin called you the 'nation’s new dynamic duo' last week." You looked at Bucky, your eyebrows raised in amusement. "You’ve officially been downgraded to a sidekick, Barnes."

He answered with an empty glare of his own. "And what does that make you?" he said, but not like a question.

"Nothing at all," you still grinned. "Everything is right in the universe."

The reporters had yet to pick up on your addition to the team, which was proof enough that your powers still sufficed to fly under the radar. Combined with the fact that you were actually regularly talking to people again—and people who weren’t your therapist or your customers no less—, things almost felt like they were settling into a new kind of normal. Still somewhat weird, and still a struggle each day, but somewhat hopeful, nevertheless.

You’d almost forgotten what that could feel like.

“Right. You’d prefer people not knowing about your creepy powers.”

"Aww." You tilted your head to the side happily. "You think I’m creepy."

Bucky scoffed into his mug, refusing to look at you like he always did, and then he strolled off again.

In truth, you couldn’t blame him all that much. You’d lived with your powers all your life and still found them unsettling sometimes, particularly when they got away from you and left you trapped in a universe that refused to move.

That was none of his business, though.

Besides, Bucky had taken to moving around so quietly you could never tell he was there until he’d cough and you’d flinch, usually dropping whatever you were holding in your hands. You’d already cracked your phone screen twice.

Not that he’d know, or care if he did. It gave you great satisfaction to erase his amused smirk from existence.

"Give it time," Sam said without moving. "He doesn’t like new people."

"Neither do I," you murmured, and he snorted. "What?"

"Pretend with me all you want, but maybe do a bit of introspection there."

You crossed your arms with a pout. "You sound like my therapist."

"Mhm," Sam hummed, opening one eye to look at you. "You owe me fifty bucks for that."

"Fuck you."

"Oh, would you look at that, the price just went up."

He chuckled as you flipped him off and went to look for the coffee pot.

Of course, your way got blocked. The downsides of not hating having people around.

Bucky was leaning against the counter, considering you. "You go to therapy?"

"You should try it some time," you said distractedly, reaching around him to get your favorite mug. Bucky recoiled like he was afraid you’d burn him. You shook your head in annoyance. "Helps with the stink eye."

"Is that what they told you?"

"They told me I needed to process my grief, but I decided to focus on some more achievable goals." You took a sip of your coffee, sighing in comfort. "We came up with a compromise."

Bucky scoffed, pushing his hands into the pockets of his jacket. He still hadn’t taken his gloves off around you.

"Sounds like a way to drag it out," he said.

You frowned into your cup. "It’s not a race, Barnes. There’s no finish line for this shit."

Something odd went over his face, but he went back to avoiding your gaze when you tried to make it out. You knew him well enough by then to get the hint, and so you left him alone.

What was it to you if he didn’t want to warm up to you. That had no bearing on the fact that overall, your situation wasn’t all too bad anymore.

It was something, you supposed as you curled up in your spot on the couch with your book later that day, slipping in and out of time to keep your company a little longer because deep down, you knew you were sick of being alone.

It was weird and different, yes, but it was still something anyway. Something to do with your afternoons again.

A reason to get up in the morning.

*****

"What are you talking about?" Bucky asks quietly, carefully, but he makes no attempt to pull back from your embrace. It allows you to take another shuddering breath, inhaling his scent until it makes you dizzy.

The fact that you probably won’t be this close to him again any time soon makes you press into his chest even harder, hard enough to feel his heart flutter against your forehead, the shock of the situation making it pick up speed.

For a split second, you slip into a sort of vacuum, your thoughts quieting as he keeps mumbling to you, and in that blissful moment, your situation doesn’t seem quite so dire anymore, more like a bad dream. You’re safe now, aren’t you? How could you not be?

But then you blink back into reality again when Bucky sits you down on the closed lid of your toilet and slowly makes you let go of his shirt, kneeling down in front of you. The blue of his eyes is devastating, even though you have to keep blinking to keep him in focus.

You don’t want to have to do this, you realize once your gasps for air start calming again. You’re not sure if you can bear it.

But nothing in this loop has been about what you wanted.

And so your resolve is made, with your heart sinking until it’s hidden away deep, deep inside of your chest. You ball your hands into fists to keep your fingers from twitching.

Two or three times he watches you inhale, start to say something, halt before you can, almost choking on it. Like your body is refusing to go through with it.

"How do you know when I’m lying?" you finally ask, and your voice sounds oddly clear in your small bathroom.

Bucky’s face goes from concern to confusion, his frown deepening. You want to smoothe it away with your thumb.

You close your eyes so maybe the temptation goes away.

"What?" he asks, and he still sounds so damn gentle.

"I’ve never been able to lie to you," you say. "What’s my tell?"

You can feel him move away from you and the ache of it makes you look again. His shirt and his hands are covered in his own blood, and you’re sure there’s some fucking metaphor in the way it stains the golden inlets of his vibranium arm crimson but for the most part, you can’t unsee the damn irony of it all.

Because you’ve pissed him off now.

"You scared the shit out of me, Y/N. And Sam, too." There’s the sharpness in his voice you know all too well. You haven’t heard it in a while. "What the hell is going on?"

"I’m trapped in a time loop," you say, squeezing your fists more tightly. "I’ve been reliving this day for weeks, my powers aren’t working, I’m the only one who can stop time from completely collapsing, I can’t do that without my powers, and you’re gonna die later today. Am I lying?"

It’s maybe the worst way you’ve ever told him, because watching Bucky’s face change is almost too much. This is exactly why you’re doing it, though; as long as you’re going through this loop with a giant guilty knot in your stomach, you’re not going to make any progress. And you need to put an end to all of it.

So you meet his gaze, almost unwavering, and you don’t blink.

His shock bursts free as an incredulous laugh. "What?"

"I’m stuck," you say again, slower, nodding at his hands, his blood, continuing to push, "and you keep dying."

Bucky looks down, then, before his gaze falls back onto you and he sits back on his heels. The pause lasts for way too long, heavy and smelling of iron, and you’re pretty sure you’re suffocating. He only says one word, and it sounds so defeated. "How?"

You swallow heavily. "You got shot on a mission," you say, but he shakes his head, the fire returning to his eyes.

"No. How did you get stuck?"

"I …" You blink, because you’re not prepared for this question, because you can never predict what he’s going to say, because he keeps doing that to you, because somehow, and not like you’ve expected, you feel like you’ve been here before.

How did it happen? That’s not … Okay.

"It was an accident," you finally say, helplessly, defensively.

There’s a flicker of something in Bucky’s eyes. "What happened?"

"You died. You died that first time and I didn’t—I couldn’t …" You swallow the sob that threatens to shake your voice again. Damnit, you’re supposed to push him away.

He moves his arm, then hesitates, as if he wants to reach out to you but changes his mind at the very last moment.

Right. He doesn’t normally do that.

Except he has.

He has held your hand and pulled you closer and written on your arm and let you lean on him with the full weight of your body, as if to him, you weighed nothing at all. He’s been offering to carry your load so many times, and he doesn’t remember a single one of them.

"Please don’t look at me like that," you say tonelessly, watching Bucky retreat.

"Like what?"

"Like I’m gonna fall apart at any moment. And yes," you add when his mouth opens, "I—I know I just did, I’m aware of the irony, but this is exactly why I can’t keep telling you, I don’t—I can’t stand it." You press your wrists against your temples, ignoring the buzz of the whirling time symbols against your skin, the stinging in your eyes. "You shouldn’t even—I mean, are you even the slightest bit worried about yourself? Because I feel like I’m the only one here, and I should’ve just—"

You stop yourself, shaking your head. Your hands are very clammy all of a sudden, and when you tug at your rings just to do something, one of them slips off your finger and clangs against the tiles as if to punctuate the silence.

When you reach down, you move your wrist in a way that makes you hiss in pain and flinch back. Bucky’s eyes flit between your own and your hand, his frown deepening in a strangely soft way. "Did you break it?" he asks quietly.

"I’m fine," you mumble, and he looks at you disapprovingly. "You’d grabbed my hand just before …"

His jaw twitches as the blame settles in again, and you would do fucking anything to finally make him understand that none of this is his fault. That you should be in pain for what you’re putting him through.

"It should’ve been me," you tell him, because it’s true.

Even earlier in the week, you would’ve taken great delight in seeing Bucky Barnes’ face fall at something you’d said. Hell, you’d have probably enjoyed it on Thursday, because there used to be this easy sort of gratification that came from riling him up, from catching him off guard.

Seeing it now, though?

It makes your fingers twitch.

"Don’t say that. Not even as a joke."

"I’m not joking." You can feel your pulse in your ears. "They aimed a shot at me, and you pushed me out of the way, and you died. So by all accounts, if your instincts weren’t so damn noble all the time, it should’ve been me, and if I weren’t such a fucking coward, I’d have gone back and switched places with you weeks ago."

The thought terrifies you, even though it’s true. No part of you wants to go through the things Bucky is, but if someone gave you the choice between either one of you right now, you wouldn’t even have to think about it.

Maybe that’s the most terrifying thought of them all. You would die for him. Once, twice, however many times are necessary if that meant that he’s safe.

"I’d like to see you try," Bucky says, and something slams into your chest as an old familiar shiver runs down your spine.

There’s a pained edge to his gaze, contemplative and heartbreaking and …

"You’re doing it again," you say, your voice barely above a whisper.

"What am I doing?" His hand brushes your knee, and your skin is left searing.

You swallow heavily. "Being noble."

Bucky chuckles softly, and his eyes leave yours for just a moment. "Don’t exactly feel like that."

He’s beautiful.

It’s a new thought, despite everything. Even when you’ve noticed it before, you’d roll your eyes at the fact and move on, because this was Bucky. So what if his face was delectably handsome?

But it seems like you haven’t known it at all, because right now, you feel the knowledge of it, of him, surge through you with all its facets. You can’t even begin to put it into words, because where would you start? How do you explain what he makes you feel when he hasn’t been there himself, not in any way that matters or sticks? And if it’s never happened at all, if time keeps unraveling like this, how can it even be real?

So it’s pure instinct that makes you move, like someone would pinch themselves to ensure they’re not asleep, even though you’re very aware that this isn’t just a dream. You need to confirm that Bucky is real, though.

The air stands still when your fingertips trace along his cheekbone, leaving a delicate flush behind in their trail, barely touching and yet …

And yet.

His breath hitches when they dip lower, almost reaching the place you’ve watched dimple when he laughs, but he doesn’t move away. He doesn’t laugh, either.

There’s a scraping sound at the closed bathroom door, followed by a short knock. You flinch backwards.

"I’m leaving the first aid kit on the bed," Sam calls from the other side. "Just … holler if you need me."

"Thanks, Sam," Bucky says coarsely, and you can hear steps receding. The scratching continues, though. That damn cat.

Finally, he breaks eye contact, clearing his throat.

"Do you want me to help you clean up?"

You shake your head. You’re not sure you could stomach more of this. "I’m good, don’t … Don’t worry about it."

Bucky drags a hand through his hair, muttering something to himself you can’t quite make out. Slowly, he gets to his feet again.

"We need to come up with a plan," he says, and you want to cry except … you’re tired. Tired and sick of this.

"I need to come up with a plan," you correct him. "We have been trying to do this as a team for weeks, and it doesn’t change anything except waste time and …" And hurt. "I can’t do it anymore, Buck."

There must be something in your voice that thaws his defiant glare a little. "So what’s the plan?"

And with a sigh, you fill him in on everything that’s been going on with Strange and your powers. Again. One last time.

You have to do this alone.

Bucky ignores your insistence that you can manage just fine and sets your wrist while you talk. Alpine, now free to roam wherever she pleases again, has decided the bathroom isn’t quite that interesting after a short look inside, and is now taking a nap in the spot of sunshine next to your bed.

"New deal," he says once you’re done, once he’s thought about it all, and you raise your eyebrows. "Don’t do anything stupid."

"You know me," you smile, checking the makeshift dressing around your hand. The green symbols are hidden by the layers of gauze.

Bucky doesn’t bite. "I’m serious, just—don’t."

"How would you know?"

"I wouldn’t," he says, snapping the first aid kit shut so vehemently Alpine’s tail twitches. "But I trust you."

Your head whips up at his words, even though his back is still turned to you. He doesn’t see your face as your heart is jostled into a new rhythm, so violently and unexpectedly that you lift your hand without thinking, pinkie outstretched.

"Promise."

He smiles when he notices, and you wish you could take a picture to carry with you through the rest of this nightmare.

That day, he dies with your stupid nickname on his lips, twisted into something that looks strangely close to that earlier smile. This one doesn’t have time to reach his eyes, though.

***

There’s been a change in the weather.

Not literally, no; of course not literally. Fuck, you long for a single cloud, a raindrop, a damn hailstorm to break the streak of endless perfectly sunny days that don’t fit your mood in the slightest.

But there’s a tinge to the sky that makes your stomach turn. It’s not very obvious to anyone who hasn’t looked at the exact same sunset for weeks on end, just a single strip of color across a storybook horizon. It looks like a crack.

"Do you see that?" you ask warily when you notice it for the first time, ominous and yet almost completely hidden by the trees and the buildings. Just dancing around the edge of your vision like another mockery.

"What?" Sam asks, eyes not leaving the path ahead.

"That … thing in the sky. What is that?"

Bucky stops and squints at where you’re pointing. "It’s called a cloud," he says dryly.

"With that color?" you murmur, but continue walking when he stops to turn to you, your wrist tingling. His stare is searing your neck, but you ignore that, too.

The best course of action, you’ve learned, is to shut your brain off as soon as you get out of the quinjet and just go through the motions, trying to ride out the mission like you’ve done dozens of times before. There’s a sort of autopilot you’ve fallen into after a couple of days, and it’s the only thing keeping you somewhat sane. Most days, it means it’s all over quickly, and you can’t help but feel glad about that.

You’ve given up trying to change your own actions to get him through the day.

But this …

It’s something new, and in all this monotony, that thought is both frightening and exciting. It distracts you enough to get you off script.

"Lovely interior design," Sam mumbles like he always does.

"Remember how this was supposed to be a day off?" You kick one of the pebbles in your path with a sigh. "What happened to 'don’t worry, Y/N, after training the day is all yours'?"

"Occupational hazard," Sam says, checking his map for the thousandth time.

"You know what I mean."

"Don’t you have tomorrow off?" Bucky says over the intercom.

Tomorrow. "Right." It comes out somewhat strained, your fingernails digging into the palm of your hand. "And why do you know that?"

Sam shakes his head and there’s a brief crackle of static in your ear. For a fraction of a second, you nearly dare to hope Bucky will give you an answer, even though you have no clue what it would be.

"They’re heading your way now," he says instead, "so get a move on."

And just like that, you’re back on track.

Quickly clearing your throat of the lump that has formed there, you say tonelessly, "I probably only have one reset left. Two, if we’re lucky and you two aren’t being stupid again."

It’s taken you a while to get used to it. To the constant lying.

You’ve worn fingerless gloves on missions before, so that’s not raised any questions from the others yet, and your rings stay hidden away. You’ve been more reluctant to take them off since the one you lost on your bathroom floor vanished into thin air.

The other thing you’ve picked up on while endlessly repeating this day is that Bucky is less likely to catch you in a lie if he can’t see your face.

So you’ve made an effort of spending as little time as possible with him.

It’s surprisingly easy to stay in your room for the majority of the day, because he doesn’t remember it ever being any other way. Even today’s little exchange will be lost to the loop soon enough, just like that little pause he made, just like the bullet through his heart.

Still, when you wake up with a start on Friday, July 4th, you look at the sky first. Its perfect blue doesn’t soothe the sinking feeling in your stomach at all.

You’ve been waiting for something to change for weeks, and now that it’s here, you don’t like it at all.

"What did you expect?" Strange says with an infuriating composure once you’ve nervously recounted your experience. "I told you, time isn’t supposed to get stuck in this way. Of course your reality was going to act up sooner or later."

"I really feel like you should be more concerned about this," you mutter, letting a ball of green energy pass from your left hand to the right. It’s about the size of a quarter now.

"Honestly," Strange answers, "I thought something like this would have happened a while ago." He taps his fingers together. "Again. Slower."

"So what am I supposed to do then, just ignore it?" The green ball pulses with your indignation, turns around itself once and then sinks into your palm again.

"In all likelihood, it’s a one time glitch. If everything is back to normal today, I wouldn’t worry about it."

Your thumb rubs across the empty space on your finger. "Easy for you to say if you’re not the one who’s stuck in an endless hellscape."

"Aren’t I?"

You both roll your eyes at each other, but then you bite the inside of your cheek again, unable to shake the feeling of a whole new shade of dread. "What if it’s not just a one time glitch?"

The corners of Strange’s cloak roll up on themselves, and he doesn’t meet your eye when he says, "We’ll cross that bridge when we get to it."

It’s still early when you return to the present, too early for Bucky to be back from wherever he’s always going, so you decide to venture out of your room again, stretching your tired limbs. You’re pretty sure at this point that waking up on the floor is never going to feel fun.

Sam is in the kitchen as always, reading something on his laptop. He’s still sitting down, which means that it’s even earlier than you expected. You miss these early parts of the day, the calm before the storm.

If today were only made up of these few hours, you suppose, it might not be half so bad.

You pull up a chair next to him and lean a cheek against your hand. "What’re you doing?"

"Research." Sam sighs, rubbing his temples. "Remember that ULTIMATUM group?"

"Never heard of them," you say with a small yawn. "Is that an acronym? What does it stand for?"

Sam gives you a glare and your mouth twitches slightly.

"Anyway," he continues, turning his laptop so you can see the article he’s reading. "They’ve been more active again lately. Acquired a couple thousand dollars’ worth of lab equipment through one of their contacts and then went underground again."

Of course, you know all this. You’ve been over it again and again, back when you were all still trading information like it could save Bucky’s life. Like there was a deeper meaning behind any of this damn loop other than the fact that you, and you alone, fucked up.

Useless.

You close the mental door on those thoughts and take a deep breath. You hate to admit it, but all of this sitting around with your thoughts bullshit you’ve been doing has actually helped you to clear your head somewhat—if only to make it through the parts of the day you can’t avoid.

"And now what?" you ask, pretending to just have reacquainted yourself with the topic.

"Now," Sam says, taking his laptop with him as he stands up and strolls over to the kitchen island, "I’m waiting for Torres to get back to me so we can decide our next steps once we’re all recovered." He gives you a meaningful look and you scowl.

Then, slowly, his words register in your brain, and you stare at his back as he stretches and then moves to make some coffee, wordlessly taking one of your mugs out of the cupboard as well as his own.

"You don’t seem too worried," you say hesitantly.

Sam shrugs. "Until we have a proper lead, there’s not much we can do. And I doubt they’ll be doing any actual damage any time soon. They’re a lot more covert than the Flag Smashers ever were."

"Right," you say, more to yourself than in response.

"Try that again, less convincing?"

"I don’t know," you mutter, slowly following him to lean against the fridge. "Just … what if Torres did find something? Should I be getting ready?"

Sam frowns. "Are you not telling me something again?"

You try to shake the thought, pulling your arms around you. "Forget it."

You don’t, though.

It keeps bugging you, because that day like any other day, he knocks on your door at 4:32 on the dot, and you go on that mission anyway. And even though this has been happening for weeks, you’re just starting to suspect that you are, in fact, still not getting the whole picture.

***

Catching a glimpse of Sam’s phone turns out to be more difficult than you first thought.

You’re still trying to get the timing exactly right a couple of days later, and you miscalculate enough to catch Bucky on his way upstairs.

"Hey," he says, his shoulders tense when he looks at you. There’s a restlessness to him that he’s not quick enough to hide; or maybe you’ve just grown more perceptive when it comes to him.

"Hi," you say, crossing your hands behind your back. "Where’ve you been?"

He shrugs. "For a walk."

You already know he won’t elaborate if you try poking, so you don’t. "Was it good?"

"Lotta people." He hesitates when you continue to not meet his eye, and then he says, "Do you want to talk about it?"

You swallow, ignoring the tingling sensation on your wrist. "Not particularly. Do you?"

Bucky’s jaw twitches. "Nah."

Somehow, you feel like that’s also a lie. Once again, you’re left wondering.

The silence between you stretches as you continue to not quite look at each other, until you finally clear your throat, nodding at the front door. "I’m getting coffee, do you want something?"

Honestly, it’s just an excuse as to why you need to leave before he notices something off again somehow, but Bucky tilts his head in amusement.

"Didn’t you just get some this morning?"

"So? I like coffee."

"Really. I never knew."

"Screw you."

You can hear him huff behind you, but thankfully the door falls shut before you can do anything stupid. Like turning around to face him, for example.

You miss his eyes.

Why won’t you look at me?

When the elevator doors open, you almost yelp into your delivery guy’s face. He stumbles a half-step backwards, somehow managing to keep a hold of the boxes precariously balanced on his arm while he’s reading something on his phone.

"Oh my god," he lets out, "I’m sorry, I’m so sorry, I was just …"

"Early." You blink.

"Sorry?"

"Nothing," you say, frowning only a little. "Wait, let me get that."

You quickly sign for the delivery and open the door with your keycard, holding it open for him. You’re not exactly afraid of burglars these days, and besides; you know this guy by now.

"If you could just go straight ahead and to the right, that’s where the kitchen is."

"Sure thing," he shrugs. "Thanks—"

His mouth snaps shut and he blushes a little as if he wanted to say something else but thought better of it.

You’ve introduced him to Sam enough times you know he’s going to be fine, so you just smile and wave him in.

When you step out on the street, you instinctually look up at the sky. It’s outrageously blue, blatantly perfect for an endless Friday, and even when you squint, you can’t make out any irregularities.

It’s a tiny relief, but a relief nontheless.

Lucy is leaning against the wall just out of sight of the storefront, an unlit cigarette dangling between her lips as she rummages through her pockets. Her colorful makeup has begun to melt off in the sweltering heat, making the red-white-and-blue stars on her cheeks bleed into each other to look somewhat purplish.

"Are you off or on break?" you call over.

She lifts her head, the glare vanishing when she recognizes you. "Counting the seconds," she says. "Don’t you have anything better to do?"

You sidestep a couple of pedestrians hurrying to cross the street and join her. "Not really."

"I hate you." She finally fishes a lighter out of her back pocket, sighing contentedly as she takes her first drag. "I swear, this day just won’t pass."

Fine. Maybe your chuckle is a little shrill. "I’m sorry."

Lucy waves you off with a gesture crude enough to make a young dad with a stroller send the two of you a dirty look. "You without your shadow today?" she asks, inspecting her nails.

You blink. "My shadow."

"You know. Your friend who’s been in here eight thousand times and still gets confused when he orders." A cloud of smoke vanishes into thin air. "Kind of the lingering type, isn’t he?"

"He’s old," you say, because for some reason nothing else comes to mind.

"Not that old."

"No," you agree, "not that old."

For a moment, you’re afraid she’s going to ask you to pass her number along to him, and you’re already scrambling to find an answer somewhere in the depths of your brain, coming up empty. That’s the problem with being able to unhave entire conversations; you don’t usually really have to deal with reactions if you don’t want to.

Without your powers, though, you’re stuck, and it’s making you wish you hadn’t come here at all.

Instead of any of that, she pulls a flyer out of her other pocket. "Sorin and Cass are doing a gig in Brooklyn next week, do you wanna come with? They’re still terrible, but they got a new bassist who seems alright."

You take the flyer, staring at it. "I didn’t know they’re in a band," you admit.

The truth is, you’ve never paid that much close attention to the people you work with. Maybe that’s been a mistake.

Lucy shrugs. "You’re always doing your own thing." It stings, even though you’re pretty sure she doesn’t mean for it to. "It’d be fun if you came, though."

"I’ll think about it," you say, and your smile is a little unsure, but genuine.

So is hers.

"If you don’t want to hang with us all night, you can bring some friends, too." Her emphasis hangs in the air between you like a dare.

You snort. "I feel like this isn’t quite their scene."

"You feel like or you know?"

"Isn’t that the same thing?"

"No." She puts her cigarette out on the wall behind her. "Knowledge is based on experience. On memories. Your feelings don’t sit in your head. And so they don’t make sense and they’re not necessarily true." She winks.

"You’re weirdly smart," you say, shaking your head.

"I know. It’s a curse." Lucy sighs. "Anyway, think about it. I gotta get back to hell."

"You know," you say with a grin, "I could really do with a frappuccino right about now."

"You know what you could do?" she answers in her sweetest customer service voice, pointing you down the street. "Get in a trash can."

Damnit. You might actually grow to like Lucy.

She taps her fingers against her temple and then shuffles back inside, a hot rush of air blowing out of the AC as the door opens. You fold the flyer up to fit into your back pocket, hoping you’ll make it to that concert one day, and then you walk on, aimless again for the moment.

***

Time passes while it’s standing still.

The problem is, at least for the moment, that by all appearances you’ve reverted back to square one. Going through your day as though any of this is even remotely normal, counting the hours and minutes to reenter the astral plane and feel some semblance of control again.

It’s been nice, really, if you’re ignoring the constant underlying feeling of dread.

Which you’re getting better at.

You wake up with a start to the sun in your face and FRIDAY blasting The All-American Rejects at full volume.

Rinse and repeat.

You wake up with a start to the sun in your face and FRIDAY blasting The All-American Rejects at full volume.

Even on days when you’re sure you’re making progress with your powers, every reset makes it just a little harder to keep dragging yourself onwards.

You wake up with a start to the sun in your face and FRIDAY blasting The All-American Rejects at full volume.

"You look like shit."

Your head rolls to the side slowly, allowing yourself a glance while Bucky is still distracted with his arm. Concentration makes his brows knit, and something warm spreads in your chest.

"I’m so tired," you say, voice barely above a whisper.

He doesn’t look at you, but you’re grateful for it for once. Your eyes are stinging a little.

"Do you want to talk about it?"

Yes. Yes. Yes.

"Not particularly."

"Do you want to talk about something else?"

You almost smile. "Like what?"

Bucky shrugs with one shoulder. "Like the fact that you just planted Sam into the mat head-first and yet made a face like you killed a puppy?"

Sometimes you wonder how he still manages to slip in without you noticing, no matter how many times he does it.

"Did I?"

"Did you kill a puppy? I’d hope not."

Your body’s been getting stronger, anticipating Sam’s every move. At this point, it’s not so much training as it is an exercise in muscle memory; but how would he know that?

It still isn’t enough. It’s never enough.

You pitiful, selfish, useless bastard.

"You’re doing it again," Bucky says and you blink.

"Doing what?"

"I don’t know, but I don’t like it."

Something inside you twinges uncomfortably and you wrap your arms around your knees, pulling them into your chest. "That might just be me, period."

Bucky huffs. "Take the towel on the right," he says. "I already used the other one."

So you do.

And then you wake up with a start to the sun in your face and FRIDAY blasting The All-American Rejects at full volume, and then you wake up with a start to the sun in your face and FRIDAY blasting The All-American Rejects at full volume, and then you wake up with blah, blah, blah.

"I can’t do this anymore."

Strange watches you, but you don’t get up from where you’re lying, blankly staring at the ceiling, feeling like your chest is about to explode.

You don’t want to feel like something is tearing you apart every single time, even though you know it’s not permanent. There’s always the tiniest glimmer of hope that this will all be over soon.

Or maybe it’s dread.

"Maybe you can’t," Strange answers.

You blink, sitting upright. "What?"

"Maybe you are actually incapable of cleaning up your own mess. You’ve never had any training before, after all. Maybe you’re too weak."

Useless. Not good enough. Waste of time.

"If this is reverse psychology, it’s not working," you say through gritted teeth, pressing your eyes shut so tightly they don’t burn anymore.

Strange ignores you. "Maybe you’re going to be stuck in this loop forever. If that’s the case, there’s no point to keep trying either. Maybe we should just call it a day."

You can feel your breaths coming in shorter.

"Maybe you’re just going to keep failing to save anyone for the rest of your life."

"Stop it!"

An explosion of power goes through your body, bouncing off the walls and bathing the room in a ghostly green light. You cough and curl into yourself as you watch it billow, still echoing the words back at you, "too weak", "stuck in this loop forever". Your bones are heavy with exhaustion.

Strange crouches down next to you and a cup of fragrant tea draws itself up to the side of your face.

"You’re drawing the bulk of your power from pain. From a desire to fix things that you think you alone are responsible for when the truth is that each and every one of us is constantly creating reality."

"Fuck you," you mumble. When you sit up, your head is still swimming.

"You cannot keep this up."

"If I’m such a lost case, then why do you bother?"

"I’m trying to tell you that you’re not." He points at the walls, still covered by that greenish fog. "This is the strongest display of your powers I’ve seen from you yet, and it only happened because you were lashing out. Pain is not a sustainable source of energy. Imagine what you could do if you could be in control."

Do as I tell you.

"There’s no way to control my powers on a larger scale. It’s impossible."

"You keep telling me that, and yet you keep coming back. Why?"

You push yourself up to your elbows, wiping at your face. "Because I have to hope, right?"

"And there it is."

You take a sip of your tea and some feeling returns to your translucent fingers. Strange’s cloak draws itself around your shoulders.

The wizard himself stays quiet for another minute or two, before he asks, "Why do you think I’m talking to you right now? Helping you, even, nevermind your constant whining and your insistence that this won’t work, after you’ve spent your whole life running away from anything resembling actual responsibilities."

"I didn’t—"

"Answer the question."

"Because I created a time loop?" you guess.

"But you already know that this loop is just one point on the timeline. A single day, repeated endlessly, but going exactly like it was always supposed to, once resolved. So, without the time stone and my privileges as the Sorcerer Supreme, and with your protections still in place, how would I have found you?"

He knew exactly where and when to look for you. But he’s right, that shouldn’t even have been possible unless …

"I came to you," you realize. "Or, I will, once I get out of this." The relief that washes over you makes you want to sob. "So there is a way out?"

"Of course there is," he says, surprisingly gently. "Time isn’t supposed to get stuck."

You sit with that for a minute, hiding your face in your hands as Strange stays silent. Finally, you take a deep breath and look at him again with newly sharp focus.

"So why don’t you just tell me how to do it?"

He raises an eyebrow. "You know that’s not how it works."

"Yes. It is. It’s literally what I do all the time."

"What you do is leaving realities you don’t like by turning backwards."

"That’s not true."

"Just because your motivations aren’t entirely selfish doesn’t mean you’re right."

You’re so damn exhausted. The frustration of this whole thing is really starting to scratch at your sanity, and there’s an ache in your chest as you stare at your own sleeping face, biting the inside of your cheek, thinking.

Strange snaps his fingers to get your attention back.

"I’m not a mind reader," he says. "Out with it."

"I want to see him," you say, getting up. The cloak flaps around you in a very satisfying way. "Bucky. It’s early this morning, right? Just before the loop starts again. That means he’s upstairs."

"And what’s seeing him going to do?"

You ignore him and walk towards the door, reaching for the handle. Your hand goes right through it. You try it several more times, to no avail.

"Heaven help me," Strange mutters behind you.

Shutting your eyes, you take a deep breath. The circle of green tingles around your wrist.

Then, you walk through the closed door.

You fully expect to crash into the wood head first, but instead you feel the door moving through your noncorporeal form, and then you’re standing on the other side.

With a startled hum, you turn left, not waiting to see if you’re being followed.

You only hesitate in front of Bucky’s bedroom door. You’ve never actually been inside his room since he’s moved in; well, apart from that time he patched up your feet and you woke up in the astral plane for the first time. It feels odd to consider entering without him actually being aware of it.

Then again, there’s quite a few things at this point that he’s unaware of.

Before you can make up your mind, the door swings open just a little, and you automatically take a step back. Alpine sleepily slinks through the gap and trots off in the direction you came from, probably to sit in the kitchen and mope until FRIDAY activates the food dispenser again. On the stairs, she passes Strange who raises an eyebrow at you.

"Changed your mind?"

You glance into the room.

At first, you can’t find him. The bedding looks untouched, and there’s a brief flurry of panic that makes you step inside before you can keep questioning yourself.

Bucky is lying on the floor next to the bed, his hands balled tightly into an old throw blanket. It’s haphazardly draped across his torso, like he’s been trying to wriggle free during the night. He grimaces in his sleep.

Try the floor.

You can’t help but wonder when he’s last tried the bed.

"Can he hear us?" you ask quietly, not needing to look over your shoulder as you sink to the floor next to Bucky.

"No," Strange says. "Not until you put in a lot more work."

"Would he remember if I did?"

"I don’t know."

You do look back at him, then. "You know, considering your position you don’t know a whole lot of things."

You concentrate on your own hand until you’re starting to feel cool metal underneath your fingertips, ignoring the throbbing of your head. Carefully, you touch the crease between his brows, smoothing it out tenderly.

Bucky sighs a little in his sleep, but doesn’t stir. Doesn’t stop quietly murmuring in his dreams.

"You feel better?" Strange asks.

"Not really." You’ve already reached out to him without it having any repercussions too many times. "But that wasn’t the point."

"What was?"

"Just …"

Comfort. He brings you comfort, even when he doesn’t know it. It’s the same reason you keep waiting for him to arrive in the gym in the mornings, even though you could probably hurry up and miss him.

Even if the loop never ends, it’s still good to see that it’s bringing him back like it’s supposed to.

How incredibly selfish, you think as you continue looking at Bucky and letting a quiet, hesitant wash of calm come over you.

And then, all of a sudden, his eyes open.

You flinch backwards, but even though you’re almost face to face, he seems to stare right through you, his breaths heavy.

"Did I do something?" you say quietly.

"No," Strange answers. "This is just when he wakes up."

You watch as Bucky drags a hand over his face and then gets up with a determined tick in his jaw, grabbing a notebook from the nightstand. He scribbles something down, hastily, like it’s threatening to get away from him if he doesn’t hurry. You don’t have to read it to know it has something to do with what he’s seen in his sleep.

When the words stop flowing, he sits on the edge of the bed for a minute longer, but the tension doesn’t leave his shoulders. Finally, he rolls his left arm a few times before pulling on a shirt and his running shoes.

He always goes for a run in the morning. You’ve made fun of him for it before, but you hadn’t put together that while Strange was trying to get you to clear your own head through sitting still, Bucky might be doing the exact opposite to get the same result.

The door clicks shut.

"Are we done with the spying, then?" Strange says.

"No need to get weird about it," you mumble and take his outstretched hand.

***

Something changes once you know that your situation actually has an end date, even though Strange either cannot or will not tell you how many more loops you’re going to have to go through until then. Even so, there’s a new assurance to your every step again, a determination grown from the knowledge that all this isn’t for nothing. That there is an out.

You can cling to that.

"What would you do if you were stuck in a time loop?" you ask, letting your legs dangle over the ledge of the roof.

"Ew, no," Lucy replies, shaking the few remaining ice cubes in her cup emphatically. "My shift was long enough as is, and I’ve been looking forward to my Sunday off all week."

"Fair point," you concede.

It’s early afternoon then, and you’ve found a quiet spot on the top of the Tower. If Lucy was at all confused why you’d shown up at the store right when she clocked out and asked her to hang out, she’s not showing it. Over the past couple of loops, you’ve learned that she really likes to go with the flow, and you appreciate that.

"If it’s not today, though," she continues, like she’s thinking aloud. "Imagine the books you could read. You could try out all that stuff that you say you want to do, and then you never have the time to actually do them."

It’s a good thought, but a lack of time has never really been an issue for you. "Nothing you do would really stick, though."

She squints against the sun. "You realize that’s a pro, right? No consequences whatsoever. I could cut my bangs again and they’d be gone the next day."

"You used to have bangs?"

"Never, and I’m willing to state that in a court of law."

You smile and lean back on your elbows. "If something good happened, that’d be gone, too, though. You don’t get to keep that, either."

"Yeah," Lucy says thoughtfully. "I’d still remember it though, right? It still happened. I could make it happen again."

"Maybe." Your thumb scratches the empty space on your pinkie. Even though you’ve turned your entire bathroom upside down, your ring is still gone, like it just up and disappeared from this reality. You can’t help but wonder if that rift in the sky from a few todays ago has anything to do with that.

"What about you?"

"Hm?"

Lucy takes another slurping sip from her almost empty cup. "What would you do in a time loop?"

You can’t help but laugh. "I’d try to keep making the good things happen, I guess."

"Sounds like a lot of work."

It is.

"Are you out of your damn mind?" someone shouts behind you. "It’s in the fricking nineties today and you’re baking?"

"Technically, we are baking," you say, nodding at Lucy and leaning back further so you can look at Sam upside down. "And we’re baking for you."

"Hi, cap," Lucy says, pulling her sunglasses off.

"Hey." Sam crosses his arms and fixes you with a very cap-like glare. "Why are you baking for me."

"Y/N said it’s for your birthday."

"My—" He cuts himself off, rubbing his temples. "My birthday’s in September."

"Whoops," you say, your grin just believable enough. "My bad, cap."

"You’re not funny," Sam says, "I hope you know that."

You know.

Of course, today isn’t actually his birthday, not even if time were allowed to pass normally. It is day forty-fucking-nine of the loop, though, which makes it your fiftieth time living through this crap and frankly, you all deserve some damn pie.

It’s not going to make a difference in the long run, of course, and yet you can’t help but feel like keeping count of those little markers of time helps to hold your head above water. Making the good things happen, even if they don’t change a thing and no one but you is going to remember.

So you simply say, "It’s turtle pie," because you know that it’s Sam’s favorite. "Hey, what’s the time?"

"Oh, it better be," he says, holding his phone up for you to read and then marching out of your field of vision.

Sadly, you’re just about a minute early.

"He could’ve stayed," Lucy says when you let out a frustrated huff.

"He has that thing at the Garden," you tell her distractedly, taking a mental note to stall Sam a little longer next time.

"There you are."

You flinch at the sound of Bucky’s voice, barely daring to move your head when he sits next to you, his back to the brink.

He never comes up here. That’s the whole point.

"Hi?" you say carefully, and a grin tugs at his mouth.

"Not you," he says, nodding to the ground in front of him.

You turn around fully to find Alpine taking a nap just a few feet behind you, her snowy tail wrapped around a flower pot.

You let out a relieved breath and ignore the small sting in your chest. Of course he’s not up here because of you. Why would he be?

"Gee, thanks," you murmur, quietly shifting around so your hands are hidden underneath your legs. "You sure know how to charm the ladies."

You glance back at Lucy, but she’s looking at her phone, her eyes once again indecipherable behind the large sunglasses.

Bucky raises an eyebrow. "Think you could handle my charm, Y/L/N?"

He might has well have doused you in a bucket of ice water. You’re suddenly very aware of every single cell in your body, and you don’t like the challenge sparkling in his eyes.

So you do what you always do and you block it out. Dismiss and distract.

"Does Alpine seem weird to you?"

He tilts his head, his jaw tight. "Weird how?"

"I don’t know," you say, staring at her. "She’s just been acting … odd, lately. Today, I mean."

And following you around in a way you’re pretty sure she’s never done before. Not before the loop, at least.

Bucky sighs. "Did you make her scratch you again? Because I’ve told you before that I’m not getting rid of her for enforcing her boundaries."

"First of all, I never make her scratch me, she does that well enough on her own."

"That’s victim blaming," Lucy says without looking up. Bucky snorts and you almost roll your eyes.

"Second of all, she’s up to something. I know it."

"Oh, yes," Bucky says dryly just as Alpine makes a small noise in her dreams, her nose twitching. "That’s the embodiment of evil right there."

"I don’t trust her," you mutter.

"And yet the cat’s the weird one."

"I hate you," you mumble, standing up. "I’m gonna go check on the pie."

"There’s pie?" Bucky says.

"Not for you!"

You turn at the door to see Lucy leaning in to show Bucky something on her phone; the frown has disappeared from his face, his shoulders relaxed. If he’d pull off his glove right now, it’d almost be like sitting in a park.

That’s good, you tell yourself as the door slams shut behind you with a bit too much gusto. Reminds you that there’s nothing special about you in particular, which is much needed, really.

Can’t wait to punch that one out of your system later.

Again and again and again and a—

"Whoa, whoa, you alright?"

You blink. Riff slumps to the ground in front of you, body limp.

Bucky stares at you in concern, his hand still on your shoulder. His lip has split open and there’s the usual bruise already forming on his cheekbone. You can’t help it. Your gaze is drawn down, your breathing shallow.

You screw your eyes shut to snap yourself out of it, but when you open them again, Bucky hasn’t moved an inch.

"Never better," you whisper, and for a split second, you almost believe it yourself.

Liar, liar, liar.

***

At least, you suppose, reality seems considerably less broken these days. No more cracks in the sky.

You get your wake-up call when you wake up with a start to the sun in your face and FRIDAY …

"… FRIDAY?" you say into the silence of your room, your heart pounding wildly. This cannot be happening. Not now.

Not yet.

He got shot again yesterday.

A pleasant jingling sound rings out. "Good morning, Ms. Y/L/N."

You look at the clock on the wall. Ten to eight, just like every morning. "What day is it?"

"Today is Friday, July 4th."

You can taste bile in your mouth despite your relief. There’s an impatient thrum to the symbols around your wrist, like a noose that’s tightening.

What did you expect?

"Rise and shine, McFly! Time to get your ass kicked!"

"Didn’t you set FRIDAY to wake me?" you ask Sam as you’re climbing the stairs, nerves on edge.

He looks at you weirdly. "I did. You’re up, aren’t you?"

You bite the inside of your cheek. "Didn’t sleep well."

That much, at least, is still true. Full nights of sleep are a long distant memory from before constant back-to-back repetitions. The only time your body shuts off is when you manage to sleep for a little bit in between your astral visits and the mission call.

"I hope you don’t think that’s an excuse," Sam says, bumping your shoulder, and you manage a tired grin.

"You wish."

Today, you let him win, even though your ankle makes an odd crack when you land on the mat. You’ll take care of it later.

"You look like shit."

Grief and relief, you’ve learned, both taste like salt and iron, but the latter is so much easier to swallow.

"That makes two of us," you say, sitting up slowly. "How was your run?"

"Good," Bucky says, putting the cloth away and stretching his fingers out. They catch a ray of sunlight. "What’s wrong with you?"

Not this again.

"Later, okay?" you answer, because that’s not a lie. "Let’s just … not, right now?"

"Alright," he says.

And, oh, you want to tell him again. Because he doesn’t press it. Because you miss having someone to share things with. Because you miss telling him the whole truth. Because you’re scared, and tired, and sick of losing him.

But those are egotistic thoughts, and so you keep them all to yourself and take the towel on the right.

There’s one good thing about this today. You make it to the living room just in time to finally catch a glimpse of Sam’s phone right when it pings with Torres’ message.

I can check it out on Monday if you’d like.

That’s it. No urgency, weirdly proper spelling, not even an exclamation mark.

In other words, you’re not sure what you expected but you’re no closer to answers than before.

"What does it matter?" Strange sighs when you tell him all of this with a frown.

"It matters," you reply, "because if we hadn’t gone on the mission, Bucky wouldn’t have died that first time and none of this would’ve happened."

"So what?" he says. "It’s already done."

"But if I could prevent it—"

"It already happened."

"I can make it not happen."

"You and what powers?" Strange says sharply. "Even if you did that, it wouldn’t stop the loop."

"How do you know that?"

"Because you’ve already seen first-hand that it’s bound to you and your powers, not to whatever you do or don’t do during the day. Karma is a fairy tale for those who don’t want to take responsibility for their actions."

"Do you really still think this is me not taking responsibility?" There’s a green flare that goes through you, hot and seething and making goosebumps crawl down your arms.

Strange smiles at the sight. "Let’s find out."

He extends his arms and slowly opens his fists until orange symbols dance across his shaky fingers. The band around your wrist prickles at the weight of his magic flooding the air.

Strange’s cloak nudges you towards the center of the room and your heart gives a heavy thud. "What, right now?"

"Would you prefer being stuck for a couple weeks more?"

"Of course not it’s just—I don’t feel ready."

"No one ever feels ready until they try."

And maybe it’s because it reminds you of something Steve once said, but it makes you step up, falling into the stance you’ve practiced over and over again. You breathe in deeply and close your eyes.

The pull comes easier now. Your powers have just been resting, nestled somewhere deep inside your bones like glowing embers, waiting for you to call upon them.

When you look at your open palm, the green wisps of your powers have curled up to the size of a ping-pong ball. You take another steadying breath and let it glide to the tips of your fingers, carefully letting it balance itself out for a second before moving your other hand.

"Good," you can hear Strange say quietly.

Slowly, carefully, you let the threads untangle until they’re just about to touch the green band circling around your wrist. You can feel the electric tingle of it, the soft beat of each passing second contained within, and you push past it.

You’ve done this before, so you’re not surprised when you feel the energy drain from your body almost immediately. Up until now, though, it’s just been trial and error, not expecting anything to happen. This time, you have Strange’s magic feeding some of his strength into you as well, and so instead of hesitating, you press on, your heartbeat speeding up.

The band around your wrist does the same.

"Don’t lose your focus." Strange’s voice sounds very far away, almost warped.

Very funny, you might have said, but you’re too busy watching it all unfold.

The whirring inside of your head grows louder as the circlet of time keeps rotating with accelerating speed, faster and faster until your eyes start tearing up and there’s something that looks almost like a crack.

You gasp quietly. At first, you think you might have just imagined it, but then the split starts growing, the symbols growing farther and farther apart as the band itself keeps spinning. Your pulse is beating in your ears. Your wrist feels like it’s being set on fire.

There are voices, then, quiet and fast, like you’re watching a sped up movie, music and noises and chatter and birdsong and a whooshing sound like something flipping right past you. Then, something like distant shots.

I’m getting Bucky out of this, you think as the green band continues rotating until suddenly, there is a shockwave of green light that takes up your entire field of vision.

You close your stinging eyes, keeping your feet firmly planted on the floor as your powers rush through you once more and then, with a shudder, settle down again, exhausted. The glare subsides. Something like a trickle of sweat runs down your noncorporeal neck.

"Did it work?" you ask, your voice rough, not daring to look for yourself. There’s no answer, though. "Doc?"

Slowly, your eyes readjust to the gloomy darkness of your room in the astral realm. The only source of light is the glowing green band continuing to circle around your wrist, the rifts stabilizing again like it’s clicking back into place.

You swear under your breath and turn around to ask what went wrong, but Strange is no longer standing beside you.

You’re all alone.

***

Three, two, one—

"Iced grande extra whip caramel macchia—shit!"

You catch the plastic cup before it drops onto the suit of the business man standing in line in front of you. "Here you go, sir."

He grabs his drink with a grunt and hurries back outside. One of these days, you might ask him why he’s in such a hurry, but it’s not today.

You’ve grown to adore the noise of the pre-noon rush. The cacophany of the whirring machines, the AC and the people is just loud enough to make your head calm down a little. Besides, being alone in a crowd has never been easier than when you know for a fact they are not going to remember you.

The drinks are starting to pile up at the hand-out, and because you feel bad for your colleagues, you start handing them out to people. You’ve been here a lot, after all.

"Tall hazelnut latte for Misty!"

Plus, it helps to keep your mind from wandering back to everything that’s going wrong.

Strange still hasn’t returned.

The astral dimension feels different when you return the day after your experiment, like someone’s been pulling invisible strings to make everything just slightly more disordered and dark.

It’s cold, too. You watch your body shiver in her sleep as you wrap your arms around yourself. The books are still there, shimmering slightly with the magic they contain.

"Doc?" you call out, and the vibrations of this place hum it back at you. There’s no answer.

The book at the top of the pile is still opened to a page, as if it’d just been left a moment ago, and you pick it up. The words glide around like they are looking to jump back into an inkpot, and you have to squint to make out any of them.

Incursion, the section header reads. Result of a contraction in a universe’s timeline. Can cause premature disintegration or collapse of any one reality within the multiverse.

"Just great," you say, slapping the book shut again. "I get it, alright? You can come out now."

But there’s no sound apart from your own heartbeat.

Your noncorporeal head is swimming with pressure as you pass through the closed door and into the hallway. The walls seem larger than usual, the stairs warping ever so slightly underneath your feet so that you can’t look at them for too long without feeling seasick.

Upstairs, the air doesn’t feel quite as heavy. The silence follows you, though, lingering in the grayish morning shadows like the remnants of a nightmare.

Bucky still mumbles in his.

You can’t make out what he is saying, and you wouldn’t have understood the words, anyway, but there’s sweat on his brow again. His fingers are tightly clutching the thin throw blanket like it’s shielding him from whatever he’s seeing in his dreams.

You take a step closer to him, desperate to do something, anything, when you notice movement out of the corner of your eye.

Alpine is perched on top of the bed, complacently tucked into herself on one of the fluffed up white pillows like it’s really her room, not Bucky’s.

And she’s staring right at you.

You take a step to the side, then another. Alpine tilts her head, her large eyes fixed on you. They follow your gestures as you wave your hand.

A quick glance tells you that Bucky is still sleeping. You take a deep breath and conjure up a small dot of bright green light, letting it dance across your fingertips. Alpine uncurls herself in interest, her tail twitching.

"You can see me," you whisper, and the little spec of your power disappears.

The cat meows in disappointment.

Carefully, you move closer to the bed, reaching out your translucent hand until you place it on Alpine’s head.

She rubs against your palm.

You chuckle incredulously, scratching behind her ears. "You little devil."

Alpine seems particularly pleased with herself. She starts purring.

This is simply bizarre, you think as you continue petting her soft fur. You’re expecting a sarcastic comment from behind your shoulder any minute now, but it doesn’t come.

So, you lower yourself down on the floor next to Bucky, the tips of your fingers not quite grazing his arm as you swallow heavily.

And then you wait until he gets up.

It’s possible, you think as you watch him leave and then make yourself wake up too, that Strange is simply messing with you for the hell of it. You don’t like the timing of this, though. Your day still continues on and on and on, like it always does, but it seems just a little too pointed that this would happen right after you had your first hopes of getting out of here in a long time.

It doesn’t help that the reality glitches have decided to return with a vengeance.

Every day is still July 4th. You wake up with a start, you train, you get coffee, you fight over lunch, you take your astral visit, you go on that damn mission. It’s the details that start to get … fuzzy.

In the beginning, every single thing around you was the exact same every single day. Now, though, there are sometimes details that are just wrong. A different mug left on the drying rack. A mess all over the tables in the lab. Weird noises all over the Tower.

You don’t know what to make of any of it, and so in general, you follow Strange’s rule of thumb and simply ignore the things that are wrong one day and then right the next—which, thankfully, is all of them. You just go with it, telling yourself that this is simply reality malfunctioning a little, like a machine that needs oiling.

Weirdly enough, that doesn’t reassure you in the slightest.

But what else can you do?

You lose a few hours here and there, time seemingly speeding up at random sometimes now. One morning, Bucky isn’t in the gym like he usually is, and you work yourself up over it so much you nearly have a panic attack. In the end, you almost crash into him outside of his room, and a rush of reassurance floods through you with such force you can’t even look at him.

That time, Sam is there when Bucky gets shot, and it’s his cry that follows you into the next day. Your hands are clean this time, and somehow that feels worse.

Everyone’s back to their usual stuff again, and that’s that.

Another time, you’ve barely rolled out of bed and into your bathroom—"Rise and shine, McFly!"—when you’re suddenly jolted forwards and you wake up with a start to the sun in your face and FRIDAY blasting The All-American Rejects at full volume. Your stomach feels like it’s still turning, nauseous, as if you’d sat up too fast.

That feeling still leaves a bad taste in your mouth, sticking to the back of your mind like the blood you haven’t even had time to wash off.

The thing that demands most of your attention, though, is the pile of books waiting for you in the astral realm. Since you don’t have any control over the loop itself, you pour all of your energy into trying to understand the theory behind your powers. It’s giving you a constant headache, and it takes a lot longer than you would like to admit, but at least you feel like you’re doing something that’ll last.

Nothing else will.

There’s one last lonely cup sat on the counter next to your own, which signals that the rush is over for now. You can see Lucy wiping her forehead as you wave your goodbye, picking up both drinks on your way out and handing one of them to the guy just hurrying back downstairs.

"Here you go," you say without stopping, glancing at your phone. You haven’t stayed this late before.

"What the—" you hear behind you, just before the doors glide open and you’re greeted by the sound of traffic and a hot breeze of air.

If you’re lucky, you can make it back to your room without anyone seeing you. You’ve moved on to a particularly hefty tome about relativity, and you’d like to—

"Hey! Miss? Hold on a second!"

You look over your shoulder to see the delivery guy has run after you, cup still in his hand. His bike is leaned against a lamp post nearby, his cap dangling off one of the handles.

You found out a couple of weeks ago that he takes his break just after dropping off your order, but you don’t usually make eye contact anymore.

Now, he holds out his cup accusingly. "That’s my drink."

You smile. "Good for you."

"No. No, that’s not—I mean—how did you know it was my drink?"

And because nothing really matters and you really want to go home, you say, "It has your name on it, doesn’t it?"

You expect him to look at you with wide eyes, just like people normally do when you know things you’re not supposed to. His mouth will drop open, speechless, his frown will deepen, and you can wink at him and continue on your way so he can spend the next couple of hours wondering what just happened.

The cup falls out of his hand, but somehow he manages to catch it before it hits the sidewalk. When he looks up at you again, and his expression is unlike anything you’ve seen coming.

"But that’s not …" he says quietly. "Do you remember me?"

And then it’s you who’s speechless, because the shock on Peter Parker’s face is more than you bargained for.

*****

"Honestly, I’m not sure what I was expecting, but it wasn’t this," you said quietly, looking over the rim of your glass at the crowd.

"You complaining?" you heard Sam’s voice say over the little earpiece you were wearing.

"Not at all."

Apparently, people connected to terrorist organizations threw incredibly fancy parties.

You hadn’t felt this glamorous in a while, if ever, dressed up to the nines in a dark green jumpsuit with an incredibly flattering cut that you’d never had a reason to wear before. Despite your initial doubts about this whole thing, you felt great, for the first time in way too long.

"Are you gonna move any time soon?"

Well. Mostly.

At least Barnes cleaned up nice, you supposed; it almost made up for his grouchy demeanor.

With a sigh, you downed the rest of your drink and got back to work. You let the crowd swallow you up, seemingly on your way to the restrooms, and then you stopped it all to slip upstairs unnoticed by prying eyes and cameras.

You didn’t hold it for very long; you had to rattle some doors, after all, and despite your espresso martini, it was still hard to tell if you could manage several redos back to back. After all, you’d only been back in the game for a couple of weeks.

It took you a few tries to find the right office, and locating the files was comparatively easy with what you already had access to. There it was, proof that ULTIMATUM had managed to secure most of the Flag Smashers’ previous supporters as well as some high brow weapon dealers.

While you copied everything onto a flashdrive, your eyes caught one of the designs. You frowned.

Even though you couldn’t pinpoint what it was, exactly, something about it seemed just slightly too highbrow for an organization of the international bad egg committee that was supposedly still mostly underground. Your gaze started drifting through the rest of the office, noting the usual boring books and glass awards in the bookshelves on the far wall. You pulled open one of the desk drawers.

"You almost done in here?"

"Fuck!" You slammed the drawer shut again, getting your pinkie stuck in the process. "Damnit, where did you come from?"

Bucky pointed over his shoulder.

"Fuck me," you murmured, your eyes stinging at the pain.

Bucky looked nonplussed. "Can’t you just undo it?"

"Great input, thank you." The flashdrive beeped softly and you shut everything down again. At least you were definitely sober now. "What are you, anyway, my babysitter?"

"Wouldn’t have to be if you could check in on time," he answered, checking the corridors, then nodding for you to follow.

"Time’s a social construct," you murmured, but followed him, the flashdrive hidden in your fist.

You didn’t even make it to the staircase.

"Didn’t I tell you?" a voice said right before several triggers clicked and you both froze. "I knew I’d recognized that arm. And who do you have with you here, Winter Soldier?"

No one, you thought, and then you yanked time backwards so forcefully you stumbled into the desk, your heart still racing. The copy sat at 57%.

You felt almost seasick with the rewind, but there wasn’t any time. "Keep going upstairs," you said into your earpiece.

"What?" Bucky said.

"I’m fine. Don’t come get me. Just keep going," you gritted through your teeth, trying to calm your breaths. 70%.

"Exit plan C, then," Sam said.

Bucky didn’t answer. You looked at your hands. There was a slight tremor to them, but nothing too bad. If you could get the nausea under control, you could probably make it past the cameras one more time.

You should’ve eaten more.

As soon as the flashdrive was done, you ripped it out and forced everything to a halt again. Your palms were sweaty as you hurried out of the office and in the direction of the staircase, your lungs burning. This didn’t feel like a good sign.

You stumbled over your damn heels and the noise returned for that moment you lost your concentration.

Not good enough.

Sweat pearled on your forehead as you and the universe held your breath again. You could feel your hold slipping with every second that wasn’t allowed to pass. Time was impatient with you.

A small crowd had assembled at the bottom of the stairs. As you closed in on them, you felt a jolt go through you and suddenly found yourself surrounded by people as time attempted to right itself again. Your nails dug into the skin of your palm so hard you could feel yourself draw blood.

It went quiet again and you moved through them, almost blindly. Everything seemed to be spinning.

Behind your shoulder, you could hear several people talking, interrupted only by the world stopping around them every now and then.

"—d’you—see that—"

"—could’ve—sworn there—”

And with time stumbling and flailing around in confusion, you made it out of the building and into the waiting cab.

chapter seven

thank you for reading!! you can follow my library blog @intrepidacious-fics for update notifications 💚

[4r0rua]

Small life update

A super nice and cheap gym is opening soon and its super close to me, im so excited but terrified at the same time. On one hand im excited to be able to have access to the necessary tools to get into shape, but on the other ive never had access to a gym and im terrified of people. Idk how like any of the equipment works, im fat and out of shape so its just embarrassing, and i already have social anxiety:/ im just aaaa… i work tomorrow so i need to get to sleep but i rlly wanna start planning my routine.

An uneducated idea of my goals

I mostly wanna work on glutes and legs, even tho i do like looking at thinspo w small thighs, I honestly love thick thighs and wanna keep mine, i just need them to be a wee bit smaller and more defined, also i want a fat ass, my ass looks ok from a side angle but because i dont work out its just not it from the back <\3 i need alot more definition there. I wanna avoid getting alot of arm and shoulder mass, i need those small and dainty pls and thank you

People say cardio is good for weightloss then other people say its not, i guess it just depends in the person so ill start out trying cardio and after ab three or four weeks see if its helping at all, all tho most days i will be walking to and from the gym so i may skip most cardio on those days since ill be getting alot anyways

I wanna be more flexible, im honestly pretty flexible rn which im happy ab but i wanna be more flexible, ive always loved gymnastics but my family couldnt afford it <\3 i did it for a little bit as a child and wld sometimes go to open gym sessions but that ab it,, i learned some tricks on my own but id live to learn more and go to parkour / gymnastics places for fun :).

I know its like just a trend rn but id live to get into pilates or however u spell it, that or just some yoga, itd help with definition and flexibility 😎

Rn im only working 3 days a week and tbh im fine w keeping it like that, every other day can be a gym day, itd keep me busy and out of the house so im less likly to binge. Just aaa im so excited. I will have my dream body super soon and now that i have my oen money i can get my own safe foods. Im genuinly so happy ab it. Not to mention this job has given me sm validation ngl, a few guys have flirted w me and asked for my number/insta/snap. And ik its toxic but my boyfriend getting jealous is also validating 😭😭 i dont go out of my way to make him jealous or anything, but when it happens it makes me feel loved 💀

[lesbiampire]

may i just say that when me and two friends first signed up to start working out at a gym, accepted an offer from a personal trainer who worked there who said he would give us a free session and were then really stoked because we were young n feeling vulnerable in our bodies n just wanted to go there to work out n have a good time............ this grown ass man who gave us the free session sends my friend (then 17, he thought she was 16) dick pics and this is why i hate the world and everybody in it

[rhodesrider]

Cookie Dough Ice Cream

Platonic!CG!Damian P. x Platonic!CG!Rhea R x Little!Fem! Reader

Warnings: Age regression, SFW, Slight tantrum, crying

~

Y/N held on to her ear rubbing her earlobe walking down the aisles with her Caregiver Damien. It was his day to grocery shop and Rhea was handling business around town after her gym session. He was looking at the list for everyone’s items and he was confused by some. “Finn wanting all this red meat, and I thought I was a cannibal sweetie.” He smirked and looked at Y/N as she was looking at the ice cream. “Papa! Cookie!” She pouted wanting the Cookie dough ice cream. “After we get the actual food baby.” He smiled and continued getting the meat from the other side of the aisle.

She blinked very confused. Rhea let her get her ice cream now and still is able to get the food they need. “But papa mama gets it now…” she voice as she went to the handle of the fridge. “Now I would hate to start counting and letting mama know about your behavior.” Y/N looked around thinking that was someone else she’s never heard Damien’s voice like that and it terrified her. Rhea was honest more the enforcer and handled Y/N when she would be bad but Damien would be the sweet caregiver and spoiled Y/N rotten. But today isn’t much of a day for that.

Damien’s not in the mood.

“Now back to my side. And don’t let go of the cart handle.” He said sternly not even looking at Y/N. She whimpered and did so not wanting trouble keeping her head down rubbing her ear again. Damien continued to get the vegetables next looking at the mixed ones side eyeing Y/N some as she was looking around but with her hand on the cart. He felt bad not wanting to have that tone with her but he needed to get stuff done. “Papa im hungry…” she mumbled. “When we get home I’ll cook up dinner and we can eat.” He said. Rhea always got something small for Y/N to snack on because dinner would take a while. “Mama gets me some apple slices and chips…” she mumbled and Damien started to get irritated. Even thou Rhea was the stern one, she still spoiled Y/N the same just not as much. “Well sweetie mama isn’t here and I said you have to wait ok? I won’t take long.” He sighed.

Y/N started to bite her nails, Rhea would have did this and did that started to get on Damien’s nerves. He saw the next ingredients and went ahead but he wasn’t paying attention as the toy aisle came up. Y/Ns eyes lit up seeing that they stocked more monster high dolls and squishmellos. “Papa! They have the Christmas squishy and I want another doll please!” She let go of the cart and zoomed to the stuffed animals. “Baby wait we can get that after-“ Hearing those words set Y/N off. “I want it now pal please…” she begged. “I said no not now.” He took the squish away putting it back and turned around seeing Y/N gone. He groaned irritated a bit but kept his cool taking the cart and looking around for her.

He looked around in the small clothing area, knowing she can hide anywhere. Soon he heard a small theme song go off, her bluey watch. He followed the sound and moved back some clothes seeing a crying little holding a monster high doll. She backed in the clothes some, her eyes showing fear. Damien didn’t want this, her being scared of him. “Pumpkin…” he sighed. “I’m sorry papa please don’t tell mama…” she sniffled holding the toy more starting to cry. “Come out sweetie.” He sighed. She came out from the clearance clothes and gave him the doll. “So. We aren’t gonna get this now. I’m sorry sweetie but I don’t appreciate how you acted towards me just now. Not today ok?” She grew silent and sniffled.

“And…I’m gonna have to tell mama what’s been up with you.”

The drive home was silent and as they popped through the door, Y/N ran upstairs and closed her door waiting for Rhea to come home.

Rhea was listening to music humming and walking in tossing her gym bag in the laundry room and sees Damien starting dinner. “Hey D! Where’s lil one?” She asked grabbing some water but looked at him seeing his face. “She’s upstairs waiting for you.” Rhea blinked confused. “I need to tell you about how she’s been acting today.”

Y/Ns’ heart dropped as she heard her door open. She was hiding in the closet. Holding her squish tight starting to cry. “Babygirl…” Rhea called knowing she was in the closet. “Come on out here baby. Mama needs a word.” She sighed. Y/N slowly came out, her eyes bloodshot red and she was in a hoodie, Damien’s hoodie. “Come sit sugar.” She gave a warning smile and watched Y/N sit down and kept her eyes to the floor. “Now, why were we acting up in the store baby?” She gave a low voice making it comfortable for her. “I just wanted ice cream…” Y/N mumbled and sniffled more. “I heard, it’s your favorite.” Rhea placed her hand on Y/Ns. “I was hungry too..” she shook and Rhea continued listening. “I didn’t mean to run away from him…” her tears fell she hid her face right in Rheas side. Rhea held her close smiling. “I know you didn’t. But baby you gotta realized that Damien’s word is as powerful as mine.” She explained. “Remember when mama said she can take down villages when she talks?” Y/N nodded. Y/N knows that her mamas sliver tongue can take down anyone without her laying a finger. “Well bumblebee, papas word takes down Empires. Some even say fight gods.” Y/Ns eyes lit up in amazement, who knew her papa was that powerful. “So when he saids something in a low voice he needs you to listen, you know we try our best to make sure you’re ok. That you have anything you want. In return, we ask for patience.” Y/N nodded. “He was gonna get you the ice cream, the food you wanted and that doll, probably even more but you made him a bit upset.” Rhea explained and cleaned Y/Ns face. “Come on. Let’s go talk to papa.”

~

Damien fixing the rest of the food and loaded the plates. Y/N walked down stairs with Rhea. “Papa…” Y/N mumbled and Damien turned around looking at her. “Babygirl. I wanna apologize to you..” Y/N stopped and tears started to fall. “I should have been a bit more clear and not been so mean. Papa was having a bit of a bad day..” he sighed. Soon he was attacked with a hug, Y/N sobbing in his chest. “Papa I’m sorry! I’ve been bad! Please please don’t be mad at me!” Rhea smiles seeing her little family saying sorry for each of their actions. “You still hungry baby girl?” He asked fixing her hair. She nodded and received a kiss on the forehead. “Well, papa made your favorite.” He smiled. Her eyes went straight to the pot as she saw the homemade spaghetti rest easy. “Getti!!” She giggled as she went to the table. Damien fixed the last plate setting them on the table and gave her a side of cool apple slices. “And after you finish, if you have room. Mama can fix us some ice cream.” Rhea kissed Y/Ns forehead giggling. “Cookies?”

“Cookies.”

[leggerefiore]

May I request jealousy headcanons for each of the submas bros? 👉👈 I feel bad for whoever decides to get too close to emmet’s s/o, I feel like he’d be…lowkey terrifying when jealous djdjdk

correct! bravo!（ ・∀・）

▲Ingo▼

● He does not get jealous easily; this man trusts you wholeheartedly. Whoever makes this man jealous must either be all over you or saying some of the most atrocious things.

● Ingo observes the situation before moving into handle it. The more uncomfortable you appear, the faster his reaction time. No one is allowed to make you distressed.

● His standoffish nature towards PDA is shed in that moment because he wants you to be contented and safe. His arm is curled around your shoulder while the other holds your hand. His glare is deadly as the person realized they probably should back off.

● If they don't, he goes off on them into a full-bodied, APA-format at least one thousand word rant. For some reason, if they still don't realize it, he'll battle them with much aggression than he normally adopts.

● In the end, his focus is more on your safety and happiness than his own envy. Still, tenderly reassure him no other person could make you as happy as he does; how he's a wonderful, attentive lover. Ingo will be completely crimson and heated to the touch.

A get-together was not where your Friday nights were usually spent. If you had any sway over your current situation, you would have been lying in bed cuddling with your boyfriend. His breathing soft and slow as he slowly dozed off, a hand that softly stroked the length of your arm growing languid. Your mind drifted. Said boyfriend, however, was currently busy chatting with Elesa. She was who had invited you and Ingo out, claiming you were becoming hermits, and she was concerned. The restaurant she had chosen was a bit of an obscure, hole-in-the-wall sort of hideaway. Plain, exposed brick walls and an appalling industrial concrete floor were an interior design choice. The furniture around reminded you of a hardware store, distinctly. How had Elesa even found such a place? Your drink burned at your throat as it went down. A homemade dinner made with love was much preferred to the “sports” appetizers offered by the menu.

“You look lonely, don't you?” A gravelly voice called out. You cut your eyes at whoever interrupted your stewing over wasted casseroles. There stood a well-dressed man with an odd smirk. A scent of nicotine wafted from his saffron and navy blazer, a yellow scarf hung comfortably around his neck. Icy cyan eyes bored into your own. “I have to say, who would abandon someone as lovely as you here?” Shifting uneasily, you looked toward Ingo. His attention was still on the gym leader, and you felt unable to call out for him. Your harasser ran his skinny finger along the rim of his glass, an auburn liquid encased inside, “If I was a gambling man, I would bet on your coming home with me.” Meekly, you shook your head. “Oh? Really?” His hand moved away from the drink.

Before he could make contact with your skin, you felt a warmth press into your side. The Subway Boss now stood beside you with a baneful fire in his eyes. “Dear, who is this?” his voice was heavy and full. The opposing man cooked an eyebrow at Ingo's appearance. “I see, I had hoped I was wrong about the chances of you being taken, but…” his eerie grin split his face, “I was correct it seems. Good evening, you two.” The drink was downed and money left on the counter. He was gone as soon as he came. The Subway Boss shook his head before diverting his full attention upon you, “Are you alright?” You embraced Ingo intimately, face burying itself in his neck. He whispered reassurances into your ear, his breath dancing against your ear. “I want to go home,” you begged, and he did not disagree.

▽Emmet△

○ Once again, correct! He is slightly easier to make jealous than his older brother. Emmet trusts you, yes, but other people are sure to notice your beauty and charming smile. They are his.

○ Emmet immediately hops into action when someone has crossed his boundaries. If you even begin to look mildly unsettled, he gets riled up even more.

○ He stomps up and hangs himself around you. Head rests on your shoulder as he gives a wicked smile with a venomous glare in his pale eyes. The person hopefully is smart enough to back off from his look alone.

○ If they don't, he starts making very vague threats. Nothing actually dangerous, but something about their phrasing and his vacancy of tone will send shivers down anyone's spine. Somehow, if they are brave enough to still hang around, he battles them and utterly decimates them. He is brutal and extremely precise with his move choices. His Galvantula and Elektross wipe their entire team. Smartly, they'll scuttle on off after that.

○ Ultimately, you probably head back home after that because cooling down is important. Emmet wraps himself around you and refuses to let you go. At least the next thirty minutes are spent cuddling and comforting each other. If you were uncomfortable, he promises that he will never let anyone bother you like that again. The Subway Boss truly means that, too. Press kisses all over his face and tell him that no one makes you happier than him. He returns your kisses tenfold. You'll probably fall asleep from all the affection.

The Gear Station was alive with people. Thousands of people swarmed about to and from their trains. You sat on a bench and observed the crowds with mild interest. Emmet called you and informed you that he was taking his lunch soon. Enjoying his time however you got it, you agreed to meet him at the station. Soon was a relative term, sure, but around thirty minutes had passed. Had he gotten caught up in something? It was extremely likely. You sighed and moved to pull out your phone from your bag. Voices echoed around from distant conversations and aided in your loneliness. Emmet would never do this purposefully, but that did not make the hurt go away.

“Did you get ditched, love?” An accented voice questioned you. Looking up from your device, you saw a man with a distinct jumper on giving you a smug smirk. You wanted to gag. “Ah, you look absolutely gutted. Who did that to you then?” He took a much too comfortable seat beside you. Arm casually going around your shoulders. How could he be so confident? Who was this guy? His accent sounded Galarian, he must have been a tourist. Perhaps, he had come to challenge the Battle Subway. A psychic was added to the list of possibilities as he spoke, “Yeah, I just finished a run on the Super Double Battle Line and won against that strange 'boss'. Have you seen him? He has such a weird way of speaking.” Had you not have been in shock from his boldness, you would have glared at him. That was literally your boyfriend he was talking about!

Footsteps rounded over to you as Emmet finally appeared. Your head whipped over to him and gave a pleading look. The Subway Boss radiated pure malice, eyes covered by the brim of his cap. His smile was pulled back too wide, and he stomped toward you. The tourist's attention settled on the twin, “Oh? Do you want a rematch?” Emmet pulled you away from him. You were soon hidden in the Subway Boss's chest while he revealed his venomous glare at the other guy. The tourist's eyes shifted around before nodding, “That's your partner then? Sorry, mate, I had no clue! They were sitting there with this kicked Yamper expression. You should probably work on that!” Quickly, he rushed away from the wicked aura of Emmet.

Sighing, you relaxed into the embrace. “Thank you, Em,” you pressed a kiss to his cheek. His face immediately softened, and he smiled lovingly at you, “He didn't hurt you, did he?” You shook your head, knowing that Emmet would rush after him without mercy if you said yes. “Let's just have lunch in your office. Is Ingo busy?” You wanted some alone time with him after all that.

[krisdreaming]

this is just a request 👀 I don’t know if you do like team requests but I would like a manager!reader for Seijoh, Nekoma, and Karasuno and how the teams react to a strange male harassing her on like a team relaxation day/ outing/ just shopping?? LMAO IM SORRY IF THIS IS A WEIRD REQUEST I WOULD REALLY LIKE TO READ THIS??? 🤡👀🤧

Oooh yes, I can definitely do this, and I don’t think it’s weird at all! I love writing the team dynamics ^^ Fem!Reader is implied. I tried to mention most of the team in each one, but obviously I couldn’t include them all!

-

SEIJOU

It’s already kind of an unspoken tradition that some / all of the boys will walk you home or to the bus stop or wherever you need to get to whenever practice runs late and it’s dark. They don’t want anything to happen to their precious manager-chan (these are most definitely Oikawa’s words, but the sentiment is shared by the whole team).

On this particular day, it’s completely dark by the time you leave the gym. You have to stop at the corner store to pick something up for your mom, and you tell the boys they don’t need to wait for you.

There’s a weird looking guy who just so happens to be in every aisle you’re in, and you brush it off as a coincidence - that is until you make your purchase and he follows you out the door without even buying anything.

You start walking F A S T towards home. “Hey!” He’s trying to talk to you, but you ignore him, pulling your phone into your hand when he reaches for your arm. You’re almost paralyzed with fear, but the moment his hand wraps around your arm you hear someone bellow out, “Y/N!”

You turn, and Iwaizumi, Mattsun, and Kindaichi are sprinting towards you (it was Iwa who yelled your name). The guy looks like a deer in headlights.

“Do you know him?” Mattsun calls out before they’re quite there, and all you can do is shake your head, hard. No no no. Words don’t want to form right now.

By the time they get there, the guy has already turned to flee, and Iwaizumi rests a hand on your shoulder as Kindaichi moves to pat your back awkwardly. Mattsun is just kind of standing there with his hands balled into fists.

“I - I-” You still can’t quite speak, the fear making your breaths come quick and short.

“Breathe, Y/N.” Iwaizumi looks into your face, concern in his eyes. “He’s gone now. Did he touch you?”

“No.” You try to take a deep breath in an effort to calm yourself. “Almost, but you guys were just in time.” You heave a shaky sigh. “That was terrifying.” You admit in a small voice.

“Y/N-chan.” Oikawa suddenly appears beside you, panting slightly, it’s obvious he’d been running. Yahaba and Watari are behind him. “I heard Iwaizumi call your name - are you alright?” One look at your face tells him that you probably aren’t quite alright, but you’re surrounded by your boys who are absolutely doting on you.

“I am now.” You say with a shaky smile. “Thanks, guys.”

“You are never, ever allowed to walk home alone again.” Oikawa’s tone is not one you’d argue with, even if you wanted to. Every single head nods in agreement.

NEKOMA

You’d all decided to go on a team beach trip, just for a day, to celebrate the training camp being over. It’s a perfect day, warm and sunny with just the slightest breeze and a few wispy white clouds in the sky. It means the beach is especially packed.

You have all the beach blankets and towels spread out with a few umbrellas and chairs, and you’re content to dig your toes in the sand and read your book. Many of the boys are splashing around in the water, and every so often you glance up to watch them, smiling to yourself. Kenma is laying near you with a t-shirt over his face, and Lev and Shibayama have set about building a sand castle nearby.

You hear a whistle, and you ignore it at first, but then it comes again, closer. Peering over the top of your book, you catch sight of two guys, perhaps around your age, not bothering to hide the fact that they’re absolutely ogling you.

“Hey there, sweetheart.” One of them says as they approach, and you cringe inwardly. Really? Kenma lifts an edge of the t-shirt to peer at you. “Want to come hang with us?” He jerks his chin in the direction of his friend.

“Ah, no thank you.” You say firmly, pulling your book a little closer to your face. They’re still hovering there, and the sandcastle making is forgotten as Lev rolls back onto his heels, taking in the situation. Kenma has pulled the t-shirt off his face and is sitting up now.

“Hey hey, Y/N-chan!” Yamamoto is jogging toward you, followed closely by Kuroo, Kai, and Yaku. “About those snacks you said you brought-” He cuts off when he notices the guys, and the way they’re standing a little too close to you.

“Oi.” Yamamoto’s expression darkens. “Everything alright over here?” Kuroo adds nonchalantly, though his expression is anything-but. They all take a few steps closer to you and the creeps, who take a few steps backwards.

“Y/N.” Kenma says quietly, gaze flickering between you, his teammates, and the strange boys. Lev has stood to his full height.

“We were just leaving.” They practically stumble over each other in their attempts at getting away fast. Immediately, you have a whole herd of volleyboys surrounding you, asking all at once if you’re okay.

“Of course, nothing even happened.” You smile even though you’re a little shaken. “That was close, though.”

“WE’LL NEVER LET IT HAPPEN AGAIN!” Yamamoto shouts, practically face-down in the sand. No one else is quite as vocal about it, but they all agree. Your boys will always protect you, no matter what.

KARASUNO

Spending a day at the mall with the team is always an adventure. There are constant stops at the various food stands and you’re pulled into one store, then another. You’re stuck in the sporting goods store looking at different pairs of sneakers for entirely too long, but you still love spending time with them.

“Do you think these look cooler, or these?” Noya asks you, holding up two different shoes. You tilt your head in thought for a few moments. “Definitely the yellow.” You finally decide with a grin, and he laughs. “I thought so too!” Just as he trots off to grab the box, you feel an arm around your shoulders.

“Hey, what’s someone like you doing in this store?” You’re so shocked that someone you don’t know would so brazenly touch you that you freeze. “You don’t look like the sporty type.” (First of all, what’s that supposed to mean, anyway? And second of all... EW) You finally shrug his arm off of you.

“I’m here with friends.” You say, trying to politely inch away. Tsukishima looks up from the other end of the aisle, and with a jab in Yamaguchi’s side, the two move closer to you.

When Daichi, Asahi, and Suga come into view from around the corner, you can feel the relief coursing through you. They seem to catch on, because they approach you quickly. Somehow, your new “friend” doesn’t seem to notice them.

“So, do you have a boyfriend?” If you didn’t before, now you have 12. Daichi finally speaks up.

“Hi there.” He’s smiling that smile, and if it was directed at you, you know you’d be quaking. The guy next to you blanches a bit, but he doesn’t move any further away. “Y/N, everything okay?” Suga gives you a pointed look.

“Ahh...” Before you can answer, Tanaka and Nishinoya explode onto the scene. “Hey, what’s the big idea?? Can’t you see that she doesn’t want to talk to you?” Tanaka’s face is suddenly inches away from his. It’s impressive how quickly he’d moved.

“Um.” The guy mumbles a pathetic apology as he turns away, and Noya shouting after him to “stay away” seems to have drawn everyone else’s attention.

Hinata drags Kageyama over. “Uwa, what happened?!” He’s looking at you anxiously. “Are you okay? Was that guy just hitting on you?”

“I’m okay.” You can finally smile, relieved. “Thanks to you guys.” You look from one face to another. “Some guys are such creeps.” You add with a sigh.

“Then we’ll protect you from all of them!” Hinata declares, with Tanaka and Nishinoya quickly agreeing. You even manage to laugh at that. “I love you guys.” You say fondly, warmth replacing the discomfort in your middle.

[inskz]

lucky charm - lee minho

pairing - lee minho x reader

genre - college!au, best friends to lovers, very cliche fluff (lucky girl starring lindsey lohan kinda vibes???)

words - 4k

note - this is just a cute little drabble i wrote while im still waiting for my covid test results to come back so that i can leave my room and see the sun again 🤪 pls be careful everybody take care of your health 💚 enjoy!!!

- - - - -

“You must be kidding me,” you sigh when you see Minho’s hand has turned into a fist, his rock crushing miserably your scissors. Once again, you lost at rock, paper, scissors. And once again, you’re the one that is going to wash your best friend’s dishes that have piled up in is tiny kitchen sink throughout the week.

“Fuck that. This is so unfair,” you grumble, throwing the dishtowel in Minho’s stupid yet perfectly chiseled face.

You make a beeline for his bed, which is actually only a few steps away from the kitchen. Being a broke college student definitely doesn’t allow him to rent a spacious studio, let alone a two-room apartment. You throw yourself headfirst onto his uncomfortable mattress, whose springs always poke your back at night.

“Life is so unfair,” your friend mocks you, dragging out every vowel of his sentence dramatically.

No doubt, you would be strangling him at that very moment if you weren’t so busy playing dead, hoping he would forget about your pitiful existence.

But there is no way mister Lee Minho would miss out on an opportunity to have his gross plates cleaned by someone else. Grabbing onto your ankle, he drags you out of bed until you plop down on the dirty carpeted floor (Minho has the unfortunate tendency to procrastinate vacuuming too). At this point, you are fake crying, throwing a literal tantrum, like a 6 years old child would.

“Life is unfair!” you yell, your feet kicking in the air in pure anger.

At least it is to you. You can’t remember the last time you’ve been lucky. The only instance you got remotely close to it was when you found a four-leaf clover last summer. Well, only if you disregard the fact you stepped into dog poop  on your way to picking it. Oh and that you were wearing brand new white Converse. 

On the other hand, it seems like the boy has the whole crew of the Olympus gods on his side. Not one day goes by without his guardian angel manifesting its presence. 

Minho has always been the lucky type. The type to get an extra nugget in his box of 10. To find 20 dollars bills on the ground. To win every single Instagram giveaway he participates to (and lord knows how much he likes participating to them). 

But how can you be mad at him when he always happily shares his food with you, invites you to the restaurant without you even asking, and gives you his prizes, pretending he doesn’t need them? You don’t believe him when he says he see no use in a panda onesie or a waterproof bluetooth speaker. Deep down, you know it’s his way to silently love you. 

But well, you can still blame him for occasionally taking advantage of your misfortune to make you do his dreaded house chores, just like right now. 

Everyone thinks you are a bizarre duo. Even you can’t fathom how in hell you two became best friends, considering how awfully your first encounter went three years ago. 

On orientation day, he asked you for the time, probably because his phone was dead (or maybe because he was dying to talk to you?)

Without hesitation, you lifted and rotated your wrist so that you could see your watch. Little did you remember; you never actually owned a watch and you were holding a fancy 7 dollars iced coffee, which, of course, did not have a lid on because plastic is bad for the environment (duh). 

Minho couldn’t help but burst out in hysterical laughter when the whole drink spilled on your jeans. For your defense, you didn’t sleep at all the night before  since you were terrified of being alone in your new dorm room the first few days (weird stuff happens all the time in dorms, okay?). If he had asked you for your name, you probably wouldn’t even have been able to tell him. 

But Minho thought you were the funniest person on campus, and he really needed a clown like you to entertain him throughout his endless college semesters. That’s what he told you anyways. Not that he thought you were the cutest human being he had ever seen. 

Why would he when you are the literal definition of a mess: always having toothpaste stains on your sweater, bags under your eyes, messy hair, tripping and falling, missing buses, breaking things, losing stuff. 

Most of the time, you just forget your keys and Minho lets you crash at his place since he hasn’t got any roommate and he isn’t used to sleeping alone, especially without his cats. It surely isn’t because he loves waking up next to a very groggy but adorable you every single morning, no.  

Minho manages to bring you back to the countertop despite your reluctance. Positioned behind you, his arms trapping your body to make sure you can’t run away from your duties, he dips your hands into the soapy water, and you can’t help but squirm at the touch of an unknown substance sticking to a plate that has probably been soaking here for a week. You despise doing the dishes and your friend knows it.

You hear him giggle in your ear while he is playing with your arms like you are some type of marionette, making you to take the sponge and squeeze dish soap onto it. 

You’ve never been the kind to like proximity nor seemed to be Minho, but for some reason, you always end up glued to each other. You hate public displays of attention and pet names a little less when it comes from him. Or maybe you don’t hate it at all and actually crave it every single minute that goes by.

Before he has the time to come up with the Machiavellian idea to soak your pajamas in dirty water (because you know he would inevitably have at some point), you yank his hands off of you and start scrubbing angrily the dirty cups. 

Minho stays behind you anyways, observing your every move, his chin propped up on your shoulder like a curious little bird. To be honest, his presence is kind of getting overwhelming. But whatever, it’s not like his slightest touch makes your heart warm up in comfort or that he smells like fresh linen drying out on the porch of a cottage house on a sunny Sunday morning or anything. 

“You missed a spot. Here” he murmurs teasingly, his lips almost touching your earlobe, while he points at the handle of his hideous ‘world’s greatest dad’ mug Jisung gifted him last christmas. 

You know he has noticed the way you shivered violently at the feeling of his breath tickling your skin because he starts snickering loudly. 

“I swear to god if you don’t shut up and go seat on the couch, I’ll slap you so hard with this spatula you’ll regret you were even born,” you say, turning around suddenly to menace him with the plastic utensil. 

Of course, he isn’t afraid one bit. Right now, you really wish you could make the smug, but oh so attractive, look on his face disappear. 

“Alright, ma’am” he laughs, holding up his hands in surrender. “I’ll let you do your thing”. He lets himself fall onto his dingy couch. 

You can hear him humming one of his favorite songs above the sound of the water running. It would probably be getting on your nerves if his voice wasn’t so pretty.  

“Chan’s sick, so we’re not going to the gym tomorrow night. Do you wanna eat tacos? El Huero has even better deals than usual” he asks you, scrolling mindlessly through his phone. 

“Aren’t the deals supposed to be on Tuesdays?” You frown and scrub a little harder the frying pan Minho has burnt the night before while trying to make chocolate chips pancakes for diner, because why eat savory food when you can have dessert for every meal, right? It is one of the few advantages of living without your parents you both truly enjoy. 

“Yeah, that’s what I said. Tomorrow,” he yawns, probably exhausted after what you put him through last night. You forced him to catch up on the entire season of Love Island because you desperately needed someone to bitch with, and what better partner than Lee Minho.  

You take a quick glance at him and see him stretching himself across the cushions like a cat. You always thought there was something feline about his features. While you’re drying the mugs with the dishtowel, your mind wanders uncontrollably, thinking about his piercing eyes, his delicate nose, the corners of his lips that curl up a little… 

All of the sudden, your hands freeze. Minho is too immersed in TikToks to notice the stupor on your face. “Wait. Today is… Monday?” you stutter. 

Alarmed by the sound of your voice, his eyes finally leave his phone’s screen to look up at you. “Yeah” he repeats slowly as if you are the dumbest person he has ever encountered. 

And you truly are. You are pretty sure your heart has stopped beating. Minho’s “world’s greatest dad” mug you’re holding slips between your fingers and comes crashing on the floor with a deafening sound. The pieces are now scattered all around you, making you unable to make out what’s written on it anymore. Not a big loss, if you ask. 

“Y/N, you know that’s my favorite mug!” he exclaims, leaping up from the couch. “I’m sure you did it on purpose,” he mutters while he’s trying to collect the small fragments, in vain. 

But you’re too shocked at this very moment to pay attention to the glare your friend is giving you. To be honest, Minho has only two moods: glaring at you or teasing you.  

“My interview,” you finally manage to say, and Minho’s eyes go wide as he realizes the critical situation you’re in. 

You check the time on the microwave: 10:45. In 30 minutes, you’re supposed to be on the other side of town, being interrogated by boring businessmen that are going to decide whether or not you’ll be accepted for a paid internship in one of the most reputable music label of the country. Basically, decide whether you’ll live a happy and fulfilling life, working in the sector you’ve always dreamed of or end up miserable with a boring office job and a massive college debt. 

“Holy shit,” Minho whispers. You can see a wave of panic washing across his face for a split second, but, as always, he manages to find his composure back immediately. 

He has never been the kind to lose his cool, except to scold you when you forget the names of his cats and their respective coats’ color (which you unfortunately often did forget). 

“What are you doing? Get dressed!” He tells you when he sees you’re still standing there dumbfounded in the kitchen, like the famous Robert Pattinson meme, wearing an oversize Kermit the frog shirt with a dozen holes in it and his favorite Adidas sweatpants you always stole from him.

“No, it’s too late. I can’t make it,” you mutter, your breath short. You’re paralyzed, as if there is a 20lbs rock sitting at the bottom of your stomach, pinning you to the ground. 

This isn’t bad luck, you think. This is karma. This is what you get for skipping classes to watch telereality shows in your bed with your best friend and not even realizing it isn’t the weekend anymore.

“Miss me with that bullshit.” He runs to his closet and rummages through his drawers, throwing every piece of clothing that’s on his way to find an appropriate outfit that would fit you. 

“You’re gonna go do this interview even if I have to drag you all the way there.” He pushes you into his bathroom since you still haven’t moved an inch. 

You manage to brush your teeth and your hair, fighting through the nauseous feeling that is building up in your tummy. 

When you come back to the living room, Minho has found dress pants and a sweater that might not look utterly ridiculous on you. He lets you change in a corner, while he runs around the room collecting all your essentials. 

“You’re coming?” you ask him when you see he is already wearing his puffer jacket.  

“You really think I’m gonna let you go all by yourself when you’re literally not even able to put your shoes on properly”. You are, indeed, struggling with your laces, as if your fingers are suddenly made out of butter. 

Minho ties them up for you and you literally feel like he’s your babysitter. You know you’re gonna hear about this for months – what are you saying- years! But all you can think about at the moment though, is the fact that sneakers are definitely not appropriate for an interview. 

He throws your warmest coat at you, grab his keys, and by some type of miracle, you’re both out to the door in less than 10 minutes. 

You try to call the elevator, but Minho grabs your arm and leads you to the staircase. His hand never leaving yours, he runs down the stairs and you have no choice but to follow him as fast as you can. 

You can’t count how many times you missed a step and fell at this particularly slippery spot, between the 5th and the 4th floor, but weirdly enough, it doesn’t happen today. 

When you finally reach the ground floor, you exit the complex and Minho hops on his old and rusty bike that he had attached to nearest tree the night before.

“There’s no way I’m riding behind you on this death machine,” you laugh nervously. The memory of that one time Minho convinced you to seat into his bicycle basket (as if you could even realistically fit in it) and you both fell seconds after he started to pedal is coming back to your mind.

Sure, it was after a long night of drinking, you were both tipsy and it was the only way to get you home since you had spent all your uber money at the bar, but still! You’re pretty sure the bruise on your butt hasn’t disappeared to this day.  

“Hurry up,” Minho groans, ignoring your complaint. You unwillingly seat on his flimsy pannier rack and wrap your arms around his torso. 

You haven’t even left, yet you’re already holding onto his puffer jacket for dear life. A giggle escapes your friend’s mouth (which you think is very inappropriate in such a desperate situation) before he lifts his feet off the ground and starts pedaling. 

You try to ignore the loud squeaking of the bicycle drive by shutting your eyes tighter and rehearsing your introduction you have prepared over and over in your head. No matter how hard you are trying, you can’t remember what you are supposed to say just after your age (which, as you can imagine, isn’t really far into your monologue). 

By the way the wind is lashing your face, you can tell Minho has picked up the speed. His breathing is getting louder, his heartbeat faster and you can’t help but think you’re probably way too heavy for him to bike you around like that. Maybe he shouldn’t skip his gym sessions with Chan so often. Or maybe you shouldn’t have eaten the leftover pancakes for breakfast after all.

You find the courage to open your eyelids and are pleased to see you’re already halfway there, probably because every single one of the traffic lights you encounter is green, and your friend is going surprisingly fast. Is luck finally starting to smile upon you? 

Your mad race comes to a halt when you reach the address of your interview. You hop off the bike and so does Minho who, by the way, is a panting mess. He’s barely able to catch his breath, strands of hair sticking to his sweaty forehead, but he’s beaming at you when he realizes you’re just on time. 

“Go” he gasps, pushing you in the direction of the building’s hall. 

You walk up to the glass door but as your hands are about to push it, you pull a 180. Your friend sighs loudly, already knowing what’s coming next. 

“Wait. No. I can’t do this. I’m not prepared” you tell him frantically. “I’m freaking out. I think I’m gonna pass out.” You are now walking in circles, mumbling incoherently. 

“Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck.” 

Your heart is racing in your chest and your hands are getting clammy at the simple thought of failure. But guess what? You can’t fail if you don’t even try! One more good reason to just go back to bed and forget about your sad life for a good 8 hours, right? 

“Y/N, you’re the most talented person I know, you’re gonna do just fine” Minho catches you in his arm to stop your endless pacing. You would probably think this gesture is endearing if it wasn’t just meant to make sure you couldn’t run for your life.  

“No, I’m not. What if I throw up in front of everybody like that one time during the Romeo and Juliet musical?” You look up at him and his face is only inches away from yours. You’re sure you would be swooning at how beautiful he looks if you weren’t so terrified at this very moment.

“You were nine,” your best friend says, and you swear you have never heard him speak to you in such a sweet tone before. His voice is like honey and lavander but it doesn’t soothe you like it should. 

You manage to break free from his embrace to crouch down, in an attempt to slow down your breathing. If only you had data left, you could be watching those short relaxing videos on your phone. They always work. But no, you had to spent it all on online games, just one week into the month. You really are beyond help.  

“Y/N I know you’re scared, but if you miss out on this opportunity, you’re gonna regret it for the rest of your life.” Minho is lowering himself so that you can hear him, even though you’re curled up in a ball. 

“And I’m warning you, I won’t want to hear you complain about it,” he adds, this whole situation obviously starting to get on his nerves. 

If you were him, you would have probably left a long time ago. But this isn’t your best friend’s way of behaving. You know he would never abandon you no matter how annoying you could be (and you could be very annoying sometimes). After all, he is always the one holding your hair while you puke in the toilets when you had a couple too many drinks.

It takes all your willpower to stand up but there is no other way, you have to do it. You can hear the time ticking dangerously in your mind, as if your brain had turned into a clock.

“You’re right. Slap me,” you say, looking at him straight in the eyes, dead serious. 

“Wha -“

“Slap some sense into me. They do that in movies when people are panicking. It’s like throwing a bucket of cold water in someone’s face. But clearly we don’t have a bucket and we don’t have cold wa- “ you start blabbering. 

“What the fuck are you talking about? I’m not gonna slap you!” Your friend isn’t usually that horrified at the thought of beating your ass. In fact, he has felt the desire to rip your head off more than once, especially when you’d steal all the duvet at night, but at this moment he is just scared you might have actually lost your mind.  

“Just fucking do it Minho!” you scream, your hands clenching the front of his grey hoodie he always looks so divine in. 

Minho has never obeyed you, and this is not the day he is going to start. 

He puts both of his hands on the sides of your face and crashes his lips onto yours. 

You would be lying if you said you have never imagined the day your best friend would kiss you. It happens pretty much every single time you look at his cute pout a little too long. But one thing is certain, it isn’t like you pictured it to be at all.

You were convinced your heart would go so wild it would burst out of your chest and your head would spin so furiously you’d lose your balance. You thought your stomach would fill with butterflies to the brim and your whole body would be on fire.

But none of that is happening. On the contrary, every single muscle in your body relaxes under his touch. The way his soft mouth presses gently against yours makes you calmer, almost at peace amongst all this turmoil. 

Minho is kissing all your tension and stress away and you catch yourself letting a sigh of relief escape your parted lips.

As if you have kissed him already hundreds of times in your past life, Minho feels like home. He’s a safe haven you can always take refuge in during troubled times. Ever since the day you met, he has never left your side.

When he breaks away from the kiss, you notice your breath isn’t so ragged and your mind isn’t so foggy anymore. You’re serene. His cold hands are still cupping your face, slightly squishing your cheeks, and you feel like an idiot sandwich for asking him to slap you seconds before.

“That can work too, I guess…” you mutter.  

“You’re okay?” he asks, staring at you with the softest eyes you’ve ever seen.

You just nod, unable to say one more word, and sprint to the entrance, not wanting to make your interviewers wait any longer than they already have.

“Good luck!” You hear him yell just before the door closes behind you and you can’t help but grin from ear to ear.

- - - - - 

Thirty minutes later, you finally step out of the fancy lobby to find a very bored Minho leaning against a tree, patiently waiting for you.

“You’re still here?”

“Of course, I am,” he says, his mouth full of croissant. He gives you a large iced coffee he probably went buying to kill time. Your lips unconsciously curl up into a smile when you notice it comes from the same chain that the one you spilled on your lap on the day you first met him. 

“How did it go?” he asks you, sticking his buttery pastry into your mouth so that you can take a bite.

“Way better than I thought” you answer, right after you swallowed. You hate the way flakes would always get stuck between your teeth. But Minho is always there to warn you about it before anyone else notices, and even pick them for you if you can’t manage to, which, when you think about it, is kind of gross. 

There are two things the boy knows about you: you’re the greatest pessimist on earth and you’d rather die than admit you were wrong (especially if it meant he was right). So for you to even say it wasn’t that bad, means it went phenomenal. 

“I don’t want to say ‘I told you so’ but I told you so.” He smiles so wide you can barely see his eyes anymore. You have to look away, otherwise you know you might become instantly blinded by love.

“Maybe I could use some more of your luck” you mumble, staring at your shoes and kicking the red leaves that were surrounding your feet on this sunny autumn morning. 

“Really? And what makes you think I’ll share it with you,” he teases you, leaning forward to incite you to look at him in the eyes. 

“That.”

Your hand finds the back of his neck and pulls him in, in order to close the space that is still left between your mouths.

At first, Minho stiffens, taken aback by your bold move. But soon enough, he caves into your touch. He kisses you back fervently, like he means it. 

His fingers entagle in your hair, his arm wraps around your waist and his chest presses against your body. You’re melting in his embrace, submerged by a wave of bliss which he alone seems to know the recipe. 

It feels new, yet so familiar. Like it was supposed to happen, like it was written in the stars. 

He tastes like croissant and Americano. Like fortune and fate. 

And you can’t help but think you’re the luckiest person on earth.

Who cares about winning the lottery when Lee Minho is your lucky charm? 

[toutallyahoe]

LUCKY ~ Matsukawa Issei (Haikyuu) (2/?)

requested by: --

pairing(s): matsukawa issei x [name]

warnings: cursing, oikawa bullying

a/n: i just found out how to do the freaking "keep reading" thing for my post

yall finally dont have to scroll long now asdfghjkskdhjsf im so sorry for being an idiot and not knowing how to do it sooner yall (´；ω；｀)

anyways, more mattsun simping

chapter one | chapter two |

A WEEK HAD PASSED BY after that event where the males volleyball club— or at least for Oikawa Tōru, had known that one of the resident fucklords of the males volleyball club of Aoba Johsai, Matsukawa Issei (also known as the very ridiculous nickname "Mattsun" courtesy by the dumbass named Oikawa Tōru) was dating the student council president, [Last name] [Name].

"Mattsun!!! How does it feel like dating Brickwall-san?!?"

And it seemed like Oikawa Tōru, the oh so perfect male of Aoba Johsai (but resident dumpster trash and alien weirdo for his teammates and friends) was still not over the fact that Issei was dating [Name], or currently known as "Brickwall-san" by the chocolate brown haired male.

Currently, the four third years were in the gym's changing room. The practice for the day was already done and they were in the middle of changing while the rest of the team were already finished since they weren't actually wasting their time. Not like these four, well, three as the black haired ace unfortunately had to keep an eye to the two crackheads and trashy asshole that he call his teammates and friends.

"Are the rumors about him being a good kisser true?!?" Tōru asked without shame whatsoever as the unfortunate best friend of Tōru, Iwaizumi Hajime only let out a tired sigh at the volleyball captain's question.

Hajime was already so done with trying to stop Tōru for asking any more dumb questions as the chocolate brown haired male just couldn't stop. This wasn't his fucking job, goddammit. Iwaizumi Hajime wanted to fucking die right now. What a mood.

Hanamaki Takahiro, who was beside Issei looked at Tōru with a raised brow. The light brown (pink???) haired male mischievous smirked as his eyes shined in a sick sense of amusement. And not far behind him, Issei had that same look of mischievous amusement aswell.

The volleyball team's ace could only let out another tired sigh as he began to rub his temple, feeling the incoming headache already as he muttered curses underneath his breath. This wasn't his fucking job. He wasn't a fucking babysitter goodammit, so why does he have to deal with this bullshit?

"Eh? Why do you want to know?" Takahiro asked as he gave the third year setter a look yet the grin on his lips never leaving nor the amusement in his eyes. "Is Shittykawa interested on Prez?"

"You better not Loserkawa," Issei merely said with a smile, sending the volleyball captain an amused look but his eyes held a small glint of something neither any of the team can pin point what it was. But the volleyball captain felt a shiver down his spine. It was oddly terrifying and Tōru doesn't want to die, thank you very much.

"Wow, someone's territorial," Takahiro quietly snickered as he stopped himself from laughing when his friend had sent him a look and then elbowing him.

It seemed like it took a moment for the third year setter to realized what Takahiro had just said about him liking [Name], and it immediately made Tōru want to gag. The said male let out sputters as Tōru's face bloomed red. Head furiously shaking as he crossed his arms like an "x" formation in his chest.

"H-hah?!? Makki I am not!!!" Tōru screamed. Face horrified as he imagined himself liking the [Hair color] haired male. As if!!! That guy gave him the shivers and not in a cutesy way but the one with creeps!!! "I can't even imagine him even dating anyone!!!"

"Oi, [Last name]-san is literally dating your teammate, Dumbkawa," Hajime had said in annoyance as he punched the chocolate brown haired male on the back of his head. Tōru only cried out in pain as he rubbed his head to ease up the ache he was feeling.

"Wah! Iwa-chan your so mean!"

"Well, Weirdkawa is not wrong," Issei has said as both Tōru and Hajime paused and looked at him, confused while Takahiro laughed at their dumbfounded look aswell as the words coming out of his friend's mouth. "I don't even know how he is dating me," Issei said as he finished buttoning his uniform.

"Mattsun... what?" The chocolate brown haired male managed to said as he looked at the black haired middle blocker with a look of confusion while the said male shrugged his shoulders with a small grin on his lips.

"What? [Name] is still a mystery to me too," Issei had said.

"You both are gay for each other, end of discussion," Takahiro butted in as he then turned to the volleyball captain.

"But Asskawa, why would you ask if he is a good kisser?" Takahiro asked as Issei nodded beside him. Neither of the two didn't mind Tōru crying on the different insulting nickname they used to call him.

"Mattsun, Shittykawa is trying to steal Prez away from you!" The light brown (maybe pink, no one fucking knows) haired male said in very obvious tone of sarcasm yet Tōru didn't seemed to caught on to it that Takahiro was joking. Man, what a dumbass.

"Makki!!! I do not!!!" Tōru cried as he made disgusted faces. Oikawa Tōru seriously doesn't want anything to do with the oh so loved (and also terrifying for most of the Aoba Johsai population) student council president that was [Name].

"You can have him all to yourself Mattsun!!!" Tōru cried as he then yelped in pain when the black haired ace punched the back of his head hard.

"Can you shut up already, Shittykawa?!?" Hajime asked in annoyance as he began to beat the volleyball captain while both Takahiro and Issei snickered as they watched the ace pummel their captain. Still sadistic assholes, the two were.

"Um, senpais?" The four stopped and looked at the entrance of the changing room to see Kindaichi Yūtarō who looked a bit nervous.

"Oh, Kindaichi!" Tōru happily said. The volleyball captain was rather happy to see his junior as Yūtarō's appearance managed to make Hajime's brutal beating to a hold. "What do you need?"

With that, Yūtarō straightened himself as he bowed. "Excuse me for disturbing any of you," Yūtarō apologized as he stood back up and turned to look at Issei who rosed a brow at him. "But [Last name]-senpai is here and is asking for Matsukawa-senpai!"

"Ah, looks like your bae is here Mattsun!" Tōru had said as he was the first one to realized what their junior has said. The volleyball captain wasted no time to teased Issei who didn't even give a single glance at him as the black haired middle blocker nodded at Yūtarō.

"Thanks," Issei had said as the first year once again bowed and then went back outside the changing room and go who knows where.

"Mattsun is walking home with his boo," Takahiro had teased as he patted the black haired middle blocker's back. Giving Issei a smile when the male turned to roll his eyes at him. "Enjoy your time with your boo, dickhead."

"Your just sad because your single, bitch," Issei had said as he stuck his tongue out at Takahiro who snorted at his words.

"Fuck you, man."

"Nah, [Name]'s got that covered."

The two friend snickered at their words as both Tōru and Hajime looked at each other and then shrugged. They would've butted in but it seemed like the two fucklords were in their own world.

It took a minute or so, and then Issei was already finishing on changing to his uniform as he took his bag from the bench that was inside the changing room. The black haired male was already at the doorway fo the changing room when he stopped and and gave a mocking salut to the three third years.

"Later bitches," Issei had bid as Tōru whined on being insulted as Hajime sighed and slapped the back of the captain's head which earned more cries from the chocolate brown haired male while Takahiro rolled his eyes.

"Hope you got run over by a truck while Prez watches, you dick," Takahiro hollered as Issei turned to give his friend a middle finger while the said male stuck his tongue out and did the same aswell.

"Bitter bitch!"

"Dumb dick!"

"Can you two not be vulgar?!?"

"But Iwa-chan, you use those words too— AHH NOT THE FACE PLEASE!!!"

   "Did you wait long?" Issei had asked as he approached the [Hair color] haired male who shook his head. Issei smiled at that.

"Not really," [Name] had said as Issei had walked beside him. The black haired male then immediately grabbed his hand and [Name] didn't mind. He always liked when Issei's hand was intertwined with his. "Did you have fun with practice?" [Name] had to bit back a smile that was threatening to come its way to his lips as he heard Issei groan.

"It was tiring," Issei had said as he pouted. "Dumbkawa was also being annoying, like always," Issei added which made [Name] softly chuckle.

"Isn't he always?" The [Hair color] haired male had said as Issei let out a snort at his words. The black haired male gave [Name] a grin, eyes gleamed with joy.

"Yeah, your right about that."

With a hum, [Name] squeezed Issei's hand as he began to walk. "Come on, let's head back home already."

"Yeah, yeah, Prez."

"Please don't call me that."

< prev | next >

[peach-pops]

Kuroo’s Secret Relationship

Request: hello👉🏻👈🏻 i had a vision and i cant tell if this is dumb or cute but IMAGINE kuroo and his karasuno manager gf at training camp but nobody knows theyre datin so they just keep it a secret so during the camp they try to find time to meet but if one of them is free the other one is busy. so during sleepy time she gets up to like poo or sumn and kuroo suprises her but she didnt know it was him so she punches him but then she feels bad and the next day everyone thinks he got in a fight I LOV U❤️

Author’s Note: Thank you for requesting!!! I am a total simp for Kuroo idk if you guys can tell. This is just a cute little scenario and honestly, I’d let Kuroo punch ME but that’s none of my business. ALSO requests are still open, I’ll close them once I reach a certain amount. 

Kuroo watched from afar as you talked amongst some of his teammates that were practically drooling at the pools of your feet. He knew he wasn’t being subtle at all as his eyes raked up your figure but he didn’t know how much more of this he could take. 

You two had been dating for a while but you both thought it would be important to keep your relationship a secret for the time being. Kuroo didn’t want to make it seem like he would be putting volleyball as a second priority to his team and you didn’t want it to look like you were fooling around with one of Karasuno’s “enemies”. 

It was fun sneaking off behind corners for private makeout sessions and sharing secret glances towards each other but as Kuroo watched you get blatantly hit on in front of him, he felt like he was losing his cool. 

The worst part was that since the training camp started, the two of you had no alone time and it was eating away at the both of you. You felt like you couldn’t even smile at Kuroo when he did really well against your own Karasuno without exposing your relationship and frankly, the two of you were both at your wits end. 

“ You’re making it obvious,” Kuroo turned around and looked down at Kenma, who’s attention was on his gaming console,” just go over there.”

Okay, Kuroo wasn’t supposed to tell anyone but Kenma was an exception. The two had been friends for so long and Kuroo trusted him with his life, plus Kenma was never the type to gossip. 

“ Are you seeing this? They’re practically undressing her with their eyes! I can tell from here that Lev is into her just from the way he’s standing,” Kuroo kept his gaze on you as you let out a laugh and even though Kuroo didn’t hear the joke, he knew your laugh wasn’t even genuine,” I might actually kill them, would you help me bury the body?”

Kenma sighed as he continued to keep his attention to his game,” You’re hopeless.”

“ We would need to dig a bigger hole, Lev has a pretty big head,” Kuroo mumbled as you excused yourself to step away. 

As soon as you turned away from the boys, your smile dropped and Kuroo could visibly see how annoyed you were with the conversation. 

It made Kuroo feel better that you didn’t like getting hit on but it wasn’t like you could stop them, they all thought you were single. If they would’ve known you were dating the captain of Nekoma, their advances would stop but that wasn’t an option at the moment. 

You looked over at Kuroo and your whole demeanor shifted. You gave him a big smile before you looked away and pulled out your phone to text him. 

Y/N: pls tell me you saw that- i couldn’t wait for that conversation to be over, lev and yamamoto are going to be the death of me 

Tetsuro: trust me, they’ll wish they were dead once im done with them

Tetsuro: r u free rn? I checked this morning and the janitors closet is unlocked maybe we can sneak off to have some alone time ;)

You looked up from your phone and up towards Kuroo who had the biggest smirk on his face. Before you could text back, Nekoma’s manager announced that Nekoma was next up to play for court two. 

Kuroo groaned out loud, of course the universe was against him. 

Tetsuro: im sorry baby, maybe later tonight then? 

Y/N: that’s fine - good luck!

You watched as Kuroo put his phone away and sent you a quick wink before heading over to the empty court. 

For the rest of the day, you two hardly even had the chance to share a glance between each other. Whenever he was playing on a court, Karasuno had their own match and whenever he was free, you had manager duties with the other girls. 

Even during dinner, you were so busy running around doing last-minute tasks before bed that Kuroo never got to say goodnight to you. By the time you finished, Kuroo was already in bed snoring away with his teammates. 

In the middle of the night, you woke up to Tanaka kicking you in his sleep and in retaliation, you grabbed your pillow and swung it over his face. 

Tanaka only grumbled and flipped to face the other way, still in deep sleep whereas you were now wide awake. You rubbed your tired eyes but as you tried to fall back asleep, all you could think about was how dry your mouth was. 

You contemplated on getting water before you sat up from your sleeping bag and walked out of the room silently, trying your best not to step on any of the sleeping boys. Once you shut the door behind you, you made your way down the hallway to the water fountain in a tired manner. 

You weren’t terrified of the dark but the thought of going down a dark hallway at a school you weren’t familiar with was unsettling to say the least and you wish you brought your phone for some light. 

When you reach the water fountain, you bent down and as you started to drink the water, you felt like something was off. Before you could turn around, you felt something touch your waist and every hair on the back of your neck stood up. 

You whipped around and when you saw a tall and dark figure, your first instinct was to scream and swing your arm out to defend yourself. You made contact with the figure and once you heard the groan, you knew exactly who it was. 

“ Tetsuro! I’m sorry! I’m so sorry, you scared me! Are you okay!” You said as Kuroo held his cheek in pain. 

He couldn’t believe you had actually punched him but he was even more surprised you landed a good punch in the dark,” See baby, I told you taking those boxing lessons would pay off but damn, you punch hard.”

“ You know you can’t sneak up on me like that, I’m jumpy!” You sighed as you squinted to see Kuroo’s face in the dark,” what are you doing up this late?”

Kuroo kept one hand on his throbbing cheek as the other reached down to pull out his phone,” I texted you to meet me in front of the janitors closet cause I wanted to have some quality time with my beautiful, sweet, girlfriend who I thought would never hurt me but instead of kisses, I got socked in the face!” 

You knew Kuroo was only teasing you but you felt so guilty. You wrapped your arms around his large frame and pressed your face into his chest and apologized in a muffled tone,” I’m the worst girlfriend ever.” 

Kuroo let out a laugh as he weaved his fingers through your bedhead and planted a kiss on the top of your head,” Don’t say that. If it makes you feel any better, you could always just knock out guys who try to hit on you now.”

You smiled up at your boyfriend as he took the chance to lean down and kiss you softly, his hands wrapped around your waist to pull you closer to him. 

Kuroo smirked against your lips as you moved your hands up to lightly tug on his hair,” You know, the janitors closet locks from the inside.”

“ Are you suggesting we have sex in a dirty closet? What if someone walks by and hears us?”

“ Get your head out of the gutter, I never said anything about sex,” Kuroo acted shocked as he tucked a strand of hair before leaning down to whisper in your ear,” unless you think you can be quiet for me.” 

You rolled your eyes as you grabbed Kuroo’s hand and led him into the janitors closet right beside the restrooms,” Whatever, we both know you’re the loud one.” 

“ We’ll see about that kitten.” 

The next morning, Kuroo went to practice normally but not without weird murmurs from his teammates. At first, he thought his secret was out and maybe you had left hickeys across his neck but it was an entirely different mark that he had forgotten about. 

“ Woah, buddy, did you get into a fight? I’m pretty blind but I’m pretty sure you didn’t have that bruise at dinner yesterday,” Bokuto said in awe as he tried to touch the large bruise that was on Kuroo’s cheek,” that is a bruise! Akaashi, come look at this!”

Kuroo swatted his hand away and used his phone camera to get a better look at his face. Turns out, you had punched him way harder than he had initially thought. 

Kuroo couldn’t even think of a lie in time so he tried to reveal as little as possible,” Who am I going to fight around here?” 

“ I don’t know...has anyone seen Lev?” Akaashi asked right as Karasuno entered through the gym doors. 

“Kuroo! Did you kill Lev? You can be honest with me I wouldn’t tell a soul!” Bokuto shouted loudly as a few heads turned in their direction. 

Your ears perked up once you heard Kuroo’s name and as you turned to look over at the boys, your heart immediately dropped when you saw the bruise you had left Kuroo. 

Without thinking, you dug into one of the coolers and pulled out an icepack, even though it was a little too late to ice it down. 

You rushed over to Kuroo, not caring that some people had their attention on you as you pressed it against his face,” That looks really bad, I’m so- um what happened?” 

“ Kuroo killed Lev!” Bokuto teased as Akaashi gave him a stern look that quickly shut him up. 

You sighed as you looked up at Kuroo and bit the inside of your cheek before whispering  softly,” I think we should tell everyone before you get in trouble. You know Nekoma has a no-tolerance policy for fighting and I don’t want it to be a rumor that you got into a fight with someone.” 

“ I know, you’re right but can we wait until the rest of my teammates get here?” Kuroo asked as you gave him a confused look,” I want them to be jealous just for a bit.”

You shook your head with a smile as Kuroo placed his hand over yours that was holding up the icepack,” Okay, just for a bit.”

[kisekinodrabbles]

Sam you're back!!! Can i get a request where aomine preparing a proposal marriage to his so but accidentally mention it to his so? And it ended up funny please!! I've been waiting for your ask box to be opened 🤗🤗

alwkerjalkejr im sorry this is so late and im bad at Humor so this is the best i can do for now, i hope u enjoy it 

Aomine wasn’t a planner. Not even close. He had breezed through high school with poor grades and actions decided solely on impulse. He had faced college head on with no particular direction and went where the wind sent him. The only thing he was certain about had been basketball and that had been the only thing pushing him forward. 

However, of course, it was different after he met you. The game changer, some called you. No one would guess that Aomine would’ve settled down at the raw age of 24 with a woman he had known for exactly seven months and three days. A blind date first encounter, several dates and sexy times later, the two of you had made it exclusive. 

And Aomine was whipped to say the least. 

24 was a far cry from his expected settlement age. The two of you butt heads on many things, including your relationship and the long-term perspective. He viewed marriage as a trap, a cage to keep him locked up and away. But you had illuminated the difference in his mind. 

Marriage wasn’t a prison, it was a commitment. Commitment that didn’t leave him feeling stuck, but instead liberated. The thought of spending the rest of his life with you both terrified and enthralled him. Terrified not because he feared giving up the rest of his life, but because the idea of losing you imprinted a searing pain into his heart.

He twiddled with the ring box in his hands, feeling the smooth velvet underneath his fingertips. He had bought it on impulse - a glance into a jewelry store when the two of you were out for your biweekly date (given your busy schedules – Aomine with training and you with your mundane desk job). He had gotten a bonus for the season for doing particularly well, not that it was hard.

It was the extra cash, he would say, that made him do it. When you traipsed off into a bakery, he wandered in the opposite direction and ended up back in front of the glimmering diamonds. He was just going to take a look, he figured. No harm done.

However, he ended up walking out with a small bag that he quickly hid from sight in his gym bag – the weight of the tiny compartment placing a heavy burden on his shoulders. His nerves crept up on him as if the box would sear right through the fabric and you would find out that This Idiot had bought a ring on a whim. A pricey one at that (he had to recalculate his budgeting for the month after this).

“Daiki,” you called, snapping your fingers in front of his face.

Aomine descended back to reality and to the meal before him. The two of you were sharing dinner and apparently you had been sharing a story about your coworker who he couldn’t really give less shit about but he just enjoyed listening to the sound of your voice fill the room. 

“Huh?” he asked, mouthful of pasta opening to let bits fall out.

You crinkled your nose in disgust, eyeing the fallen pieces on his plate. “You’re gross, first of all. Second, you’re not listening to me.”

“Yes, your coworker has stolen multiple pens from your table and hasn’t given a single one back but you’ve seen it on other people’s desks.” Years of “not” listening to Momoi nag his ass off had trained him to pick up on key points of conversation. He had gotten multiple earfuls from his childhood friend for not listening and he was almost thankful that he had a skillful ear. 

Oh. That had you closing your mouth and blushing. Cute. “Okay, fine, so you were listening. But still!” 

“Babe, it really isn’t a big deal. Just ask for them back from your other coworkers, I’m sure they’ll be cool with it.”

“I guess,” you mumbled. 

Aomine’s lips quirked up. You didn’t like confrontation and especially not over something so small. Cute.

“Are you cleaning the bedroom tomorrow or am I?” you said, collecting both your plates and leaving them in the sink. Aomine instinctively followed after you to get started on the dishes – he had been well-trained in the art of kitchen hygiene mainly through your incessant criticism of how bad he was at it. 

Meanwhile, you headed over to your shared bedroom only to be dismayed by the sight of his gym bag. You could practically see the smell leaking out from it. “Daiki,” you groaned again. What was it this time, he wondered. He was distracted by getting every inch of stain off the plates when you grumbled, bringing out his bag. “What did I tell you about leaving your gross, used uniform in your bag? We have a laundry basket, babe.”

“Yep, sorry, forgot,” he noted almost robotically. This happened weekly and, no matter how many times you reminded him, he was going to keep forgetting. It wasn’t as if he wasn’t going to sweat in the clothes again. 

He heard you distinctively moan some more in the background but he was so focused on that one sauce mark that he barely processed what you were saying, answering your questions with half his attention on you.

“When did you bring these back?”

“Two days ago.”

“Two days ago! Do you not smell it?”

“No.”

“My god, what is this mess? What’s this stain?”

“Probably the burger I ate with the team.”

“Your towel has another stain.”

“Oh, Eiji spilled his soda on it.”

“What’s this box?”

“Engagement ring.”

It didn’t register with him what he just said. It was another answer to another question, nothing else. It was only when the silence weighed heavily in the air that he turned to check on you.

You who were standing frozen in your spot, velvet box still in hand and eyes the size of saucers. “A what?”

Aomine blanked out then. How in the fuck was he supposed to get out of this situation? He wanted to do this properly, the way that you deserved. It wasn’t as if you were a die-hard romantic who needed roses spread across their apartment, but he certainly wanted to give you something equivalent that you would enjoy. A gesture that you deserved for all the time you spent putting up with him. 

So he thought of the next best thing. “For my friend. Um, he asked me to pick it up.”

“Daiki, I know all your friends and I don’t think any of them have significant others.”

“It’s a distant friend, he did it to not be suspicious.” 

You shrugged, shoving it back into his bag. For a moment, he could’ve sworn he saw a flash of hurt across your eyes. It wasn’t as if you hadn’t brought up marriage before, but it’s something Aomine had always waved off. Perhaps you were instantly convinced, a dream close to your fingertips but still out of reach. 

“I lied,” he quickly blurted out, getting up from his seat to approach you and pluck the box from your hands. He ran his thumb across the smooth cover, taking in a deep breath. “This is for us. For you. I wanted it to be a surprise, but I also want you to know that I am serious about you, no matter how many times I joke about it. You... mean the world to me and there’s nothing I won’t do to keep you by my side.” 

He watched your lips part in surprise, a revelation that had struck you to the core. Aomine, who had been so adamant that marriage was nothing but a lie, was thinking of proposing. You could feel your brain shortcircuit and it seemed to show on your face.

Aomine chuckled, ruffling your hair, “Don’t look so shaken. I’m not going to do it now. Like I said, it’s going to be a surprise so I’m not going to ask you now. But just know that I will ask you—and ask you properly. When that time comes, you better be ready to say yes.”

You smiled, “I’ve never been readier for anything.”

[etherealluminescence]

Shdjdjjddjjs okay but, more buff cat hcs when ?? But seriously, i know it probably counts as crack hc but i enjoyed it way to much i cant get it out of my head anymore, i havent laught so much in a while now sjdjchdj. I sure hope the buff cat saga will continue !!

You know what? I’ll give you some buff cat content now. 😤 my school work can wait. And trust me, the buff cat saga WILL continue. I just tend to work on requests first rather than my own wants haha.

I’m really happy you like buff cat! Buff cat is my life now. Constantly haunted by buff cat. Maybe one day I’ll introduce a girlfriend or friends for buff cat too 🤔

Maybe I’ll do a background about buff cat and how they met MC?? And why buff cat is so attached to MC? I don’t know. 👉👈 maybe if someone requests, otherwise I’ll just do whatever I feel like in the moment.

Anyone can also feel free to request any buff cat scenarios!! If not I’ll think of some up. THIS IS SO LONG IM SORRY. I WROTE THIS LIKE 1 HOUR OR SOMETHING STRAIGHT AHA.

The boys react to buff cat teaching you

Lucifer

Lucifer had noticed your grades were improving recently, and wanted to take you out to eat for working so hard to both keep up with your class.

When he came to your room, he saw a scene that honestly shouldn’t of surprised him, but did anyways.

You were sitting at your desk, books sprawled across the entire surface area of it. On top of a book pile was buff cat, wearing a pair of glasses, and he was using a pointer to show you important parts you should remember.

He watched in awe as you two never exchanged any words, but you were scribbling down definitions and important notes, while buff cat turned the pages and reviewed your work.

He’s gotten fairly use to buff cat cooking, cleaning, intimidating others, but he has never seen buff cat act like a teacher before, it was sort of new, and he even had a teacher outfit.

He swears that he never sees you buying these outfits, or that people in the devildom actually sell muscular cat clothing.

Buff Cat is the first to break the silence, looking over at Lucifer and positioning his pointer at Lucifer’s head, and then to in front of your desk.

You were still focused on your studying, knowing that you were steadily improving. Buff Cat got out a notepad from one of your desk drawers, and wrote “Leave what you require on this note, I am instructing MC right now, and when we are done tutoring I will give this note to them.”

Lucifer ended up having to take a rain check on taking you out to eat, and learned that your cat has really advanced vocabulary.

Mammon

He was failing the majority of his classes, and ended up asking you for help. You were his best shot, and you seemed to be passing all of your classes with flying colours.

You said you were happy to help him! Except that someone else was actually helping you study. They were a very efficient teacher.

He was relieved to hear that you’d introduce your teacher to him, until he found out it was that fucking demon spawn from hell.

He screeched so hard and ran out of the room, crying like a girl. “aAAAAaaaaAAAH”

Mammon is terrified of buff cat, and now you’re telling him this cat has the intelligence of a genius? You came to the devildom like a few months ago how is this cat tutoring you and making you pass your classes with ease??

He swears your cat is trying to plot for world domination or something. Will NEVER ask you to study with him again.

Leviathan

You walked into Levi’s room trying to find buff cat. It was a Sunday, which was typically a boys night out between them, but it was getting pretty late and you need to study.

There was a test tomorrow on devildom history, and you wanted to review one more time with buff cat, as to make sure you’ll do well on it.

“Mr. Kitty, are you here?” You called out, as soon as you said that Buff Cat paused the game and ran up to you. Levi was slightly annoyed as Buff Cat was beating a hard level for him, but he is your cat above all else.

You smiled as Buff Cat greeted you, and apologised for interrupting them. You explained to Levi how you wanted to review for the test, and if it wasn’t an issue could he spare around 20 minutes?

Levi huffed and agreed and called you a normie, and was about to pick up his switch when your words finally set in.

You put down the book you were carrying and got out a pencil, and took a piece of paper out of the book. You began writing down all of the important stuff on the paper while Buff Cat watched over your shoulder.

When you were finished, he went into the book with you and showed you a couple things you’ve missed or had forgotten, and then got you to write it down three times each as to remember. He even wrote a few essay questions for you which you got.

Levi was impressed. Not only did Buff Cat seem to know the whole devildom history by heart, he knew the exact pages and lines, and even how to write.

He didn’t really care as long as Buff Cat beats the hard level for him. He just considers it to be cool.

Satan

Satan was impressed with your high grades. It must be hard for a human to suddenly learn about a whole new realm, right? So if you had Cs he would understand, but you were getting 97s and 94s.

He understood everything when he started to notice what kind of books Buff Cat had been reading in his room, recently.

You all were having a test on curses soon, and Buff Cat came by his room and began looking for books about curses, and similar ones to what you all had been learning about.

Satan ended up chuckling to himself and found it amusing. It was amazing how your cat even spent his free time coming to someone’s room, finding books for your tests, and reads them before going back to you to help you understand the content.

He likes to get coffee with Buff Cat and talk about the stuff you’re learning in classes, he never directly said it to you, but he helps Buff Cat find specific books when Buff Cat comes over.

Asmodeous

Lucifer decided to punish the house of lamentations by taking away all of their electronics after they did something stupid again. The only way to earn it back, was through getting an 80% or higher on their next test.

You and Asmo suffered because you would normally look up answer during your test, and Asmo had no social media or contact with any of his friends with benefits.

You two weren’t ashamed to beg Buff Cat for help to pass your next test. He was probably the smartest in the house. He goes to Satan’s room almost every day and purchased books when he goes out. Your cat even tutored you when you were in elementary school.

You and Asmo barely needed to convince Buff Cat, as he was ecstatic to help you again. He’d do anything to help you, and was even willing to help Asmo out as well.

Asmo thought that Buff Cat looked REALLY adorable in his teacher’s outfit. A suit, tie, glasses, and his claws were so shiny from their manicure earlier.

Buff cat even slicked his fur back to look like he gel’d his hair. He was a literal fashion icon. Asmo could do some sewing, but nothing to the degree Buff Cat did.

Buff Cat had so many outfits he made himself, and he even did them so quickly. They all turned out perfect. Oh right, this was about studying wasn’t it?

Asmo never really asked questions about why your cat could just be so smart, and more so focused on how cool your cat looked. Priorities.

Beelzebub

Beel and Buff Cat are gym buddies, so naturally they’d walk home together from the gym. Everything was fine until Buff Cat’s MC senses were tingling, and began to walk towards you, crouching down in a store trying to figure out which notebooks to buy.

Beel thought it was pretty cool Buff Cat knew where you were, like how he and Belphie were that close to each other.

Brel asked you what you were doing, and you explained that you wanted to get some new notebooks because your old one is messy and confusing. You just scribbled whatever you could down, and were having a bit of a hard time in class.

Buff Cat immediately perked up, and you two seemed to have a conversation. He meowed and you happily said “I’d love that!”

Apparently, Buff Cat had offered to tutor you. Beel wasn’t so sure how well your cat could teach, though, considering he still is a cat, and offered to help you as well, since he wouldn’t like to see you sad from overworking yourself.

He was scribbling notes alongside with you five minutes into your first session together. Buff Cat wrote such simple explanations, and even prepared notecards ahead of time, Beel forgot he was supposed to teach you.

He is pretty fine with Buff Cat teaching you both, and once again forgets that Buff Cat is a “normal”? cat and not some weird creature that knows the answer to life.

Belphegor

Is really fucking terrified of your buff cat. Like TERRIFIED. So when he sees your cat in a teacher’s outfit sitting at the dinning room table, teaching you math, he was frozen.

He came down to get a glass of milk but what is this. Do you- do you have to do it in the living room?

There is no other reaction than physical fear coursing through his body his adrenaline is at the highest and his fight or flight instincts kick in.

He’s already fought once and that caused Buff Cat to exist in constant Buff form around him, so you can bet he is running.

Probably has a group chat with Mammon and Luke. “Buff Cat Conspiracy”. They talk about how scary buff cat is.

Diavolo

Buff Cat told Diavolo he was the one who helped you study. They were having conversation (buff cat used a notebook) and the topic of your studies came up. He mentioned how he had been helping you study, and understand the terminology in the Devildom better.

He was happy to hear that you understood it, and that it wasn’t too complicated for either of you too.

He actually asks if he can watch your study sessions, to see if he needs to lighten your workload just in case you’re pushing yourself too much.

You two allow him to watch, and he’s giving soft claps and smiles as the two of you give it your best.

Is honestly very happy with how much you two get along, and how you say it’s very simple since Buff Cat explains(meows) it in a very efficient manner.

He already knew Buff Cat was smart, but haha. Maybe he should hire Buff Cat to be a teacher or support class teacher for RAD?

Barbatos

You had grown accustomed to the devildom these past few months, and with Buff Cat with you, you were allowed to freely explore it when you want.

Buff Cat also happens to have a spare key to open the castle when he wishes.

Exam/testing season was coming up, and you knew you couldn’t study at the house of lamentation.

It was very distracting, and so you decided to go to the castle. No one will be screaming there, or trying to convince you your cat is a weird entity trying to plot world domination.

Barbatos was sort of used to seeing Buff Cat come and go as he pleases, but why were you here? Before he could say anything, you told him that you were visiting to study! And that you hope he didn’t mind that Buff Cat was going to tutor you.

Alright, so you’re studying, but why at the castle? You had to explain that it was very distracting at the house of lamentations, and Mammon was trying to convince you to get rid of your cat 24/7.

Ah, he could see that. Your cat isn’t exactly normal, and Mammon does occasionally scream like a girl. I promise I love Mammon. But it’s not like he minded, so long as you two were quiet and actually studied.

He left to clean for a bit, and when he returned to the guest room he saw you wearing a headband, violently writing down and muttering definitions at an insane pace. Buff Cat was in a teacher’s outfit, and holding out flash cards.

He’s slightly taken aback, but doesn’t show it anywhere on his face. He has never seen you so serious before, and neither has he seen Buff Cat so focused on you, as well.

He’s quite proud of you two for your hard work and dedication. He doesn’t interrupt but instead pours you three cups of tea, Buff Cat thanks him, and watches over you two.

Solomon

Solomon invited you over for a study session. He may be a little shady, but he does care for you, as a fellow human.

He was ecstatic to see Buff Cat come with you, because he still wants to dissect your cat.

He was about to talk to you about letting him research you cat, but you made yourself comfortable on his bed, and Buff Cat began to put on glasses and take out a pointer.

He didn’t have anytime to talk beforehand, as you were highlighting certain areas of your book, your cat pointing to certain parts, and you patted the bed beside you for Solomon to join.

Solomon’s plans to dissect your cat are set back another day, but he takes great interest in the way he teaches. Your cat is very methodical about how to remember things, and explains(meows) it rather simply.

He swears that your cat is not a normal human cat, but why can he sense literally zero magic power from it? If only Buff Cat could teach him that.

Solomon also gets 100% on the next test by remembering everything the way Buff Cat had taught you two.

Simeon

Absolutely chaotic man, when he sees you and Buff Cat in a classroom when school was over, he approached you two, and said hello.

You greeted him, and so did Buff Cat. He asked what you were doing after school so late, and that it was dangerous for the two of you. Buff Cat not so much but could still be in danger.

You told him you were studying for the upcoming test, and that Buff Cat was helping you.

Simeon was like!!! 💖👉👈💖💖💖💖🥰🥰🥺🥺 could I join?? This sounds so fun!! Buff Cat is so smart!!

He does not question the fact he’s studying with a cat, learning from a cat, or just how nice your cat can write on paper, like perfect handwriting.

He has such chaotic energy that he’s just like you, what a cute cat!

Luke

no.

just no.

he’s fine with your cat but does your cat have to be in buff form when you’re being taught?

he is happy you are getting good grades but please get him away from buff form buff cat.

[svnaslove]

✰— daisy

genre: fluff

summary: you and yamaguchi were friends who started having feelings for each other, but you were to afraid to each other at the same time, after all, it’s your first love.

author’s note: fjlksjd i don’t know how this is possible but my own writing just started making me tear up because it’s so cute i love yams so much T-T

gn!reader

Yamaguchi Tadashi |  山口 忠 | mutual crush

you and yamaguchi had been really good friends for a while now. you would show up to his practices and always support him in his games to the point where everyone in the karasuno boys volleyball team was in a friendly basis with you. everyone knew about (y/n). you would even sometimes help clean up after practice before yamaguchi would walk you home since you two lived rather close to each other.

but after a while you two started to grow feelings for each other that you two were too afraid to admit to one another.

literally everyone knew.

it would be hard not to notice how yamaguchi’s gaze lingered on your face with a dumb smile when you laughed and how you would give him little touches that stayed on his shoulder a second too long when you spoke to him.

how if yamaguchi was having a bad day in volleyball and if you talked to him and gave him an innocent hug, he would just boost up with some unknown boost of confidence and how he would look at you right at you, smiling, whenever he aced one of his float serves in a game.

yeah, everyone knew. but none of them wanted to push it because you two were just so pure. so they just watched and hoped for you two to get together on your own accords. even tsukishima thought you guys were cute and wanted to leave you two alone. that’s saying something if even tsukishima won’t even throw a lil teasing “ew.”

you knew you were more outgoing then yamaguchi and if anything you would be the one that would have to make a move. you thought for what felt like weeks for some way to muster up courage to tell yamaguchi how you felt, even though you both knew you liked each other, you were both too afraid to actually say them out loud, for it to really sink in and for it to be real, after all, you both never dated before, you were each others’ firsts. shut up this is so cute, ok i will shut up now.

it was just another day at practice, you sat by the volleyball court but was too nervous to do your homework like you usually did. ‘it’s today’ you told yourself. ‘i’m doing it today.’

practice ended and you helped clean up like you usually did, putting the balls away with yachi, she looked up at you and smiled, “why don’t you go help yamaguchi put the net back in the storage room? i think he wanted to talk to you.” “oh, okay, thanks yachi.” you thanked her as you put the final ball into the storage cart.

you went looking for him by the net but it was already taken down, you went to the storage room but he wasn’t there, maybe the clubroom? you walked out of the gym and you were greeted by a cool breeze, you sighed at the beauty of the sunset, how the pinks and the oranges mixed together.

you took a few steps before you noticed a ruffled yamaguchi a few feet away.

“hi tadashi!” you smiled.

yamaguchi chuckled a bit nervously, he held something behind his back and your eyes widened at the sight of what he had in his hands. it was a daisy.

“h-hi (y/n).”

you chuckled nervously at the sight of his nervousness and the beautiful daisy held in his hands, flowing the slightest at the breeze, “um, yachi said you needed to talk to me?” you said tearing your gaze from his hands.

“oH” he said, as if he had completely forgotten what he was standing there with a daisy for. how could he forget? this has been racking his brain for weeks and weeks, he had looked for the nicest flower he could find for like 20 minutes, running around the campus like a crazy man because he couldn’t find one pretty enough, and had sent yachi to send you to him. how did he forget? maybe it was the way whenever you were around it was almost as if everything would slip out of his mind, how you smiled at him, how your eyes rested on his, how when you were around, you were the only thing that has ever been.

“um yes, i needed to talk to you.” he spoke nervously.

your hearted started to pound in your chest as you waited for the words to spill out of his lips.

yamaguchi took a deep breath, his shoulders falling and rising as he looked at the daisy in his hand, “um i picked this for you since i know you like daisies, c-could i,, um could i put it in your hair?”

your words were trapped in your throat and all you could do is nod as you chocked a thank you out.

he walked closer to you and his hands reached for your hair as he placed the flower delicately behind your ear, tucking your hair back. you watched his face as he did so, the golden light of the sun hitting his dark green hair and his freckles and the way he bit back his lips as he made sure to be gentle as he worked. you felt as if the the butterflies in your stomach had just been multiplied double as you watched him intently.

he stepped back almost to admire his work and you could tell how much his blush deepened. he smiled softly at you and you smiled back as if to reassure him, “you’re really sweet tadashi” you said, finally trying to push back the butterflies and to push yourself to actually use your words.

yamaguchi seemed to relax a little more as your words reached him, his smile getting a little more confident.

“um but that’s not all i wanted you to come over here for...” he continued, your looked up at him, all of your attention at him as if he were the whole sun of the solar system.

“(y/n), ..” yamaguchi balled up his fists and shut his eyes tightly to force the words out of himself.

“i really like you, and if you would let me, i would like to take you on a date.” he confessed, as the last syllable flowed from his lips he slightly opened his eyes

“i- i really like you too tadashi, and..” you had to take a pause, your heart pounding so hard in your chest you wouldn’t be surprised if it combusted. 

“i would love to go on a date with you” you smiled, biting your bottom lip a little trying to suppress the huge smile coming because you knew once it came you wouldn’t be able to fight it back and your cheeks would be hurting for the rest of the week from how much glee you felt.

yamaguchi relaxed and now his heart beat more for excitement then fear, “y-you do? you wanna g-go?”

you giggled and nodded.

everything felt like a puzzle that had been thrown into a counter, but somehow, magically all the pieces fell together perfectly.

yamaguchi laughed, almost not believing what just happened and you laughed along with him, “can i hug you?” he asked.

you didn’t even give him an answer as you nearly threw yourself at him and held him tight, tadashi’s arms wrapped around you and held you close to him, “you can hug me forever, tadashi.” you mumbled into his shirt.

out of nowhere you heard whips and yells from the gym and you two turned to see the whole club team cheering you two. sugawara was raging and shaking daichi like a rag doll “HE FINALLY DID IT DAICHI, HE DID IT!”

hinata was bouncing along with yachi throwing congratulations, nishinoya and tanaka were throwing teasing whistles, tsukishima just kinda stood there but he was making a mental note to congratulate yamaguchi later on as he headed back inside and kageyama started complaining to drag hinata back inside to continue practicing. ennoshita, kinoshita and narita smiled at the cute scene that had just happened and ennoshita started getting teary eyed kfdjsfkls all the third years, asahi, daichi, kiyoko and sugawara walked over to you guys to congratulate you too with a very disheveled daichi after taking the absolutely terrifying wrath of an overly excited sugawara, after all, he was the one rooting for you two the most.

the embarrassing scene had you both trying to hide your faces, you tucked yours back in to yamaguchis’ chest and he covered his face with his hands.

“im sorry i didn’t know they were watching” 

“it’s okay, they’re just uhh excited” you managed to laugh through the embarrassment. 

“you know how you can make it up to me?”

yamaguchi removed his hands to face you, searching your eyes for an answer.

“pick another pretty daisy like this for me when we go on our date okay?”

yamaguchi smiled and his core seemed to warm at how much he adored you, “okay.”