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wannawritefast · 1 year ago

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Just You

A/N: I have been pulled out of another accidental hiatus by this absolute buffoon of a man. Full and vulnerable disclosure, I stumbled upon fancams of this man on TikTok and fell in love with him. The only things I know is what I have found on the wiki and what I have seen on TikTok. I see folks are desperate for fics so I thought 'why the hell not'? I apologize for any OOC stuff. Reader is fem but most of the fic is pretty gender neutral; I tried to keep it GN but it just didn't quite work. Warnings: no use of y/n, language, very blatant references to sex, pining, a lil spicy at times, no smut but it's definitely not implied in any uncertain terms, nothing explicit as far as what you "see," but it's there, Johnny being a fucking doofus, reader is also kinda stupid, sorry Summary: You and Johnny are famous and shameless flirts especially with each other. But it's all in good fun, right?

“Yeah,” you answered, leaning back again after leaning forward to hear the interviewer. “Well, this role was certainly more demanding than any of my other previous ones but it was functional so when my trainer and I were coming up with a plan I told him, ‘train me like someone who actually wields a weapon like this.’ A lot of it was blended with-”

A cheer rose in the background but you didn’t break focus with the interview at hand.

“-the aesthetic desires of the production but I absolutely trained for real. I did my own stunts-”

Through the glare of the light above the massive camera you saw the interviewer smile at something just over your shoulder. “Oh, we have a crasher incoming…”

You didn’t even have a chance to complete the full turn before a strong, charcoal-colored suit jacket-covered arm wrapped its way firmly around your waist with a mischievous ‘hey’ and chuckle in your ear. That cologne… You smiled and laughed instinctively, knowing exactly who it was. His warm breath fanned across your ear and neck as he lifted you off the ground in a one-armed hug from behind. “Hey, hot stuff.”

“Johnny Cage, ladies and gentlemen,” the interviewer said as you laughed in kind.

He released you slightly so you could turn in his arm as you smiled up at him. You looked up at his eyes through those signature shades as he smiled down at you, abandoning all of your attention from the camera to playfully scold him. “Hey! This is my interview!”

“You look amazing.” He quirked a brow up at you, the arch slanting upward just above the top edge of the frame of his sunglasses. There was no doubt in your mind that his eyes were running up and down the length of your body.

"Well, you look good too but you don't see me crashing your interviews."

"I wish you would."

"Johnny!" You exclaimed.

“What? I’d apologize but I never apologize for seeing my favorite person in Hollywood!”

Before you could answer, the interviewer interjected, pulling both of your attention back to the camera, “Me right?”

Johnny guided you carefully back to the duct tape ‘X’ on the red carpet, practically carrying you the short distance there, splitting it with you and being careful to not step on anything draping off of your expensive ensemble. The kerchief tucked in his front pocket was the same as the main hue of your look for the evening, the design of your agent no doubt. It complimented his charcoal silver duochrome suit. He looked sharp.

“You can be my second favorite,” he answered the interviewer, holding eye contact with them before snapping right back to you with that signature Johnny Cage smirk, not missing a single beat. You doubled over a little as you laughed at the implication and his arm held firm. “H-h…hey,” he laughed at you, looking at you from the side, “hey, I’m not that funny. A little excessive for a fake laugh.”

You straightened up again, fighting the unattractive smile that was gracing your lips and the accompanying laugh. “You’re… you’re not. You just surprised me!”

He dropped his jaw in fake offense. “You’re not supposed to agree!” Johnny made a show of pulling his arm away and taking a step back. You reached your arm and briefly grasped his forearm before he walked firmly out of reach. The smile on his face was wide and identical to yours as you turned fully away from the camera.

“You’re such a diva, Cage.”

“A diva you’re never working with again!” He walked backwards onto the main carpet careful to avoid the droves of entourages. “We’re renegotiating your contract!”

“I’ll see you inside!” You called. How Johnny made you laugh so much was a mystery. He only smiled at you as he officially walked off and you turned back to the camera still catching your breath from the giggles. “Sorry- I’m sorry. He’s just-”

“The two of you are peas in a pod. We get it,” the interviewer answered.

“Yeah, he’s something alright…” You carefully brushed the face framing pieces of hair back a bit and smoothed your dress. “Did that answer your question?... What was the question again?”

You were seated patiently at a panel with Johnny to your left, his sunglasses sitting idly on the white tablecloth before him. A journalist led a question with your background in performing, referencing a previous production of Shakespeare you had done in your college years. Your head bobbed attentively.

Johnny’s hand reached for the refill bottle of water between the two of you behind the table, picking it up from the ground without breaking his gaze from the journalist asking the question. As you began to answer, he pulled your glass of water closer to his and topped both off, capping the bottle and setting it back down. Your eyes flitted briefly to the activity with a small smile and you continued answering.

“-so it was really rewarding to get to re-explore the character in a new context and-” You watched him slide the glass respectfully back to your space out of the corner of your eye. “-with a truly amazing cast including this wonderful gentleman, right here.” Johnny looked surprised to be mentioned but only for a moment as the journalists chuckled and cameras flashed when you turned your eyes to him. Your hand landed on his forearm and shook it affectionately. “He’s an excellent scene partner and someone very dear to me. I wouldn’t have felt as comfortable digging into this role without him at my side.”

His left hand rested at the center of his chest. “My stunning costar, everybody,” Johnny answered, grasping your left hand in his right, planting an exaggerated kiss on your knuckles. “Makes me blush!”

You laughed as you had to look away from him, letting him continue to hold your hand under the table. “We’re never going to beat the dating rumors if you keep it up, Johnny.”

“Wanna get dinner later,” he leaned flirtatiously toward you, holding your one hand in both of his now. The room filled with the hum of amusement.

“You buying?”

“Hell yeah, baby,” Johnny answered, quick as a whip.

You pulled your hand from his to pat his cheek fondly. “You’re cute. I’ll think about it.”

He glanced down at his lap as he laughed and the room joined him, seeming to have deflated a bit. Johnny shrugged toward the room and leaned forward to address the audience. “I’ve been trying for years, folks.”

A giggle bubbled up from your throat as your hand landed on and squeezed his bicep warmly. “Any more questions?”

“Johnny!” The interviewer greeted, as he sat down across from the two of you.

Johnny said his name back in a matched tone. The interviewer then said your name and you mimicked him in kind. Then Johnny said your name and you replied his name back to him before your costar looked right into the camera he was supposed to ignore and said ‘Rocky!’

The three of you and the crew laughed. You shook your head at him, amused. He glanced at you, ensuring that his glasses were tucked firmly at the apex of his purple button down with one hand as the other found its home along the back of the couch behind you. You shifted your weight in your seat, ever so slightly favoring the side he was on.

“I love The Rocky Horror Picture Show,” the interviewer started as he settled in.

“So do I,” Johnny piped up. You nodded in agreement. “One of the first movies I remember watching actually… In fact, Janet Weiss was my sexual awakening.”

“Speaking of, and I was going to bring this up later but the opportunity is just too perfect…” Your heart dropped to your stomach as the interviewer continued and you processed what Johnny had said about Susan Sarandon.

“Uh oh…” You knew where this was going. The sleeves of your shirt began to feel a little too tight. Your eyes landed nervously on the interviewer, outstretching your hand to him even at the far distance, attempting a negotiation. “We don’t have to tell him. We can keep this between us.”

“What are you talking about?” Johnny interjected.

“No, I don't think I will,” the interviewer replied. Brutal. This was going to be brutal.

“Please,” you begged. “I thought we had something special.”

“Sorry, I have to do this for the exclusive content.”

“No, you don- How did you even find this out? How do you know this?” You asked, desperate to stall. Johnny’s eyes were on you; you could feel it. The interviewer chuckled at your discomfort as heat crawled along your cheeks.

“I did my research. I came prepared.”

You pushed a harsh exhale out of your lungs and looked at Johnny anxiously, your fingertips digging into your upper lip. “You have to swear to be normal about this, Johnny. I-”

“Wait, know what? What does he know?” He turned excitedly between the two of you but you could feel the small part of him that was concerned for you as one of your hands came up to visor your eyes.

You couldn’t take it. Your body didn’t even know how to respond to this. You were usually pretty brazen with Johnny but after hearing him say what he did about Susan Sarandon just moments ago not knowing this about you… You were suddenly nervous around him and why you really couldn’t say.

“I, uh- used to…”

“Back in the day-”

Your cheeks were hot and you were silently thankful for your makeup team as you looked up at the interviewer with a breathy chuckle, gesturing for him to continue. You picked up your glass of water, your words leading into the sip you took, “You can go ahead. Sorry, I didn’t mean to interrupt.”

Johnny was looking at you like he was trying to figure out a huge equation in his head and your eyes held the answers. “What do I not know? You wouldn’t be blushing if this was something I knew about you.” He had a wide grin as he looked at the interviewer. “You gotta tell me right now what it is.”

“You may love The Rocky Horror Picture Show, Johnny, but your co-star is a bigger fan of this movie than you are and I have proof.”

“What? There’s no way,” He responded a bit incredulous. You shook your head resigned to it. “I watched that movie religiously for Susan Sarandon. I mean Tim Curry’s hot in the movie too but like… Susan Sarandon.”

“Johnny, you gotta stop-”

“I will not.”

“Oh, this is priceless.” The interviewer laughed. “Your co star used to be in a shadowcast of it, right?”

You nodded with your eyes clenched shut. “Yep, that’s true.” You shifted in your seat, the bundles of nerves in your stomach balling up even more. “For those who don't know what that is, I used to be a part of a cast that regularly acted out the whole movie screen-accurately of The Rocky Horror Picture Show in front of the screen in a movie theatre.”

“That’s right.” The interviewer chimed in.

Johnny’s jaw dropped in gleeful awe. “You’re shitting me…”

“Nope, I’m not. I used to, by choice, run around in the theater in my lingerie where people would yell profane things at me.” You nodded resigned to the truth coming out.

“Would you care to tell Johnny and our viewers what character you used to play?”

Another nervous giggle bubbled up from your throat as you choked out your answer. “I used to play-”

He beat you to it. “Oh my god… Did you play Janet Weiss?”

You nodded with your eyes closed. “Yeah, that’s exactly-” a clear of your throat “-exactly who I played.” You chanced a glance at him and you laughed as he diffused the nervous tension by looking you up and down with a smirk.

Johnny conspicuously adjusted how he was sitting next to you and you turned your gaze away, rolling your eyes. “... are you serious that you played Janet?”

“Yeah, I’m serious.” You couldn’t even look at him.

Silence from Johnny. The feeling that he was looking at you was only confirmed when you finally looked up at the interviewer and then at Johnny. The expression on his face was indecipherable but it was intense whatever it was. Something stirred in your stomach… no, deeper than that, as you glanced between his dark eyes and his lips that hung open almost expectantly.

You broke the quietude, rifling through your memory, anxiously again now that he was looking at you like that. “I think I still have all of my costumes in my closet actually…”

The man just blinked at you again with his mouth still hanging open.

“Johnny, would you-?! What is going on in your head right now?” Your nails itched a spot on your inner elbow over the fabric of your dress, looking him up and down. You couldn’t help but lean back a bit.

His hand found his sunglasses sloppily as he tore his eyes away from you. Johnny pulled his glasses on before resting his elbow on the back of the couch and propping his ankle up on his knee and leaning his head toward you.

And there it was… that signature Johnny Cage crooked smile. It wasn’t the first time he had flashed it toward you but it was the first time it gave you butterflies. Then he opened his mouth with a nod, “Hey.”

The interviewer cackled but you paid him no mind.

“Hi,” you replied, coy, sitting up a little and tilting your head to meet his gaze more directly; you fought down the laugh in your chest. You twirled a strand of hair around your finger, playing along. “Can I help you, Johnny?”

He scooted closer to you and you let out one segment of a giggle. “You still have those Janet costumes?”

“Yeah, I think so.”

Johnny immediately turned his face away from you, hearing the sharp exhale he expelled from his pursed lips, before he turned back. “Is there a Mr. Weiss?”

“Please, Mr. Weiss is my father.”

“Ohmygod,” he groaned gutturally as he stood up, taking a quick pace out of the frame of the camera. You watched him with confusion and you and the interviewer laughed together again. He stalked back toward you looking down at you as he gestured to your thighs, “Is this seat taken?”

“My lap?” You coughed out.

“Oh, I thought you’d never ask,” he gushed, straddling your hips and moving to settle into your lap, towering over you even as he sat.

Your head was thrown back in laughter, muffled from his shirt rubbing against the mic clipped to your breast. His hands found your wrists to guide your palms to an ass cheek each. Johnny didn’t even falter as he brought one of his, comically in this situation, large arms around your shoulders and turned at the waist to face the interviewer with his hand on his hip. You could barely look around him and his broad chest even if you tried. Everything about Johnny was bigger than you.

He bashfully looked to the ground and then up to the interviewer. “What other questions do you have?”

“Yeah, let’s just finish the interview like this,” you called out of view from behind Johnny, snapping your fingers above your head. “Next question, please.” Your hand came back down and landed with a resounding smack back to where Johnny had initially placed it.

The interviewer laughed heartily and even Johnny guffawed out something like a yelp as he jumped. He quickly pulled his phone out from his pocket and pointed the front facing side down toward both of you almost vertically. You furrowed your brows, bit your lip, and curled your fingers into claws on the curve of his ass as the camera clicked.

“Babe, not here,” he spoke down at you, feigning embarrassment, as he crawled out of your lap finally.

“Oh, sorry, babe, I forgot we weren’t alone.”

If you thought, however, that Johnny was completely removing himself from you, you couldn’t be more mistaken. He opted to settle snugly into your side, resting his interlocked fingers on one of your shoulders. You took the cue to wrap your arm around his waist possessively, hardening your gaze and tilting your chin up at the interviewer. “Sorry about that,” you said, shrugging as you spread your legs in a very masculine fashion. It was comical for how much bigger Johnny was than you alone. You scratched the bridge of your nose addressing the interviewer and the camera. “I can’t help it. It’s just the effect I have on people.”

Johnny nodded in understanding, watching you reach down to grab your glass of water and take a sip of it. He turned his gaze back to the interviewer matter-of-factly.

“She pegs me.”

You choked on your water.

It was Johnny’s birthday party and how you had ended up grinding on him for four, going on five, songs was beyond your rational mind.

People were attempting to take subtle pictures on their phones of the two of you, you could feel it: one of his arms firmly around your waist, his other hand gripping your hip, back to chest, ass to… what you were going to call his pelvis in the middle of the dance floor. You stopped caring about three rounds of tequila ago with him right before he had initially dragged you there.

You were sure that if your eyes were open and you could be bothered to interrupt the moment by turning around and looking at him that you’d see in his face something very similar to what was stirring just about everywhere in your body between your closed eyes and where his hands were. If he didn’t try to kiss you or you didn’t try to kiss him, that is, which is what you were almost certain a few shots in now would happen if you turned around. And if the two of you kissed…

Instead you opted to lean into the rational part of your brain that told you to remain like this lest you ruin the relationship the two of you had built: his unabashed, utterly shameless flirting that you kept at an arms’ length distance, at least until now - right now Johnny’s hands on you were exactly where you wanted them. Dancing was just fine and if this is what the birthday boy wanted, without adding more confusion to whatever the dynamic was that you and Johnny called “being just friends,” well, you were more than okay with it. He wasn’t a bad dancer either.

It was hot… you confessed to yourself silently. He was strong and warm and he smelled really good like he always did; musky, heady, sharp.

It’s not like you could really hear yourself think anyways over the bass booming in your ears and chest. Your body continued to sway against his. You supposed you didn’t entirely hate it actually: his hands preoccupied with you at least in some capacity, his lips (you were certain) were tilted up in a smirk close to your ear, even though you fought wanting them closer elsewhere, his muscled chest and abs against your back, your bodies moving in unison.

Who were you kidding… you liked it…

Johnny’s hand on your hip stiffened and pulled you to spin you around. You twirled, nimbly obliging it’s direction. Uh-oh…

You began swaying again to the music, feeling the hands on your hips before your eyes could actually focus on what or rather who you were seeing.

And there was Johnny. You knew that. You weren’t that drunk. But there he was. His brown eyes were looking down at you, softened by the way his lips formed a cocky expression, like he was about to say something mouthy about how comfortable you had been dancing with him. Not with him… on him. You looked back up at him, a retort poised about how strong his grip on you had been for someone so willing to hypothetically make fun of you for dancing on him.

“Happy birthday,” left your lips instead. “Having a good time?”

You knew the answer. Johnny sported a smirk. “I’m having a great time.”

“You have a good DJ.” Shameless bait, you knew it.

“And a good dance partner,” he spoke loudly, leaning down so you could hear him. Hook, line, and sinker. Although you weren’t quite sure you could say you were really baiting him if he was probably going to say something like it anyways.

There were a number of things perched on your tongue. One, ‘you’re not too bad yourself.’ Two, ‘that’s the tequila talking.’ Three, some snide remark about your ass having been flush against him so it had been no wonder he had been enjoying it.

And yet looking at him, your boldness so directly challenged by his undistracted brown eyes, you couldn’t help but be rendered speechless- a rare occurrence for you. It didn’t last.

“If you want me to turn around and shake ass again, I can.”

“As much as I wouldn’t hate that,” he laughed, his forehead briefly knocking against yours in a dangerous way when he slumped a little. “I just like having you close.”

“Aren’t we supposed to be dancing,” tumbled off your tongue before you could stop it.

Lucky for you, Johnny seemed relatively happy to continue. A hand latched itself more firmly on your body, this time fastening itself comfortably on your ass rather than your waist where it had been. Johnny had big hands, you realized. That was a lie. You realized it a while back when he had pulled your hips to his earlier. You started more confidently dancing to the rhythm again. You weren’t sure when but eventually his second hand slid close to his first one.

If you had been any more sober, there might have been more nerves about Johnny’s liberties, which you were happy to give him, about touching your butt while also dancing so close. Instead your nerves had more to do with the fact that despite your eyes once again fluttering closed, Johnny’s were definitely on you. You could feel him drinking you in, drinking this moment in. No amount of alcohol would make that sensation more bearable. You chanced opening your eyes, slowing your dancing.

You were right, against every wish that you hadn’t been. Sure enough, there were Johnny’s eyes on your face. His expression was much more sober than it had been when you first turned around earlier but no less intense.

You stopped, the rhythm leaving your feet. You were flush against him, chest to chest, one of his arms strong around your waist.

Words. They were somewhere in your head. But they were all wrong. And Johnny was so right.

His stupidly attractive slightly messy hair. His eyes traveling along your face. His tongue peeking out from between his lips to wet them. His nose. Just his nose. His cologne. The flashing lights hitting your face. The tequila buzzing ever so slightly behind your eyes. Right.

Johnny’s face approached yours so tentatively, so surprising in how gentle it was, like he was worried you’d spook if he moved too fast, that by the time his lips met yours it felt like they had already been there. Warm. Soft. They belonged there, you decided immediately.

Your hands came up to hold his jaw. ‘Hold’ was the wrong word. You were drawing him closer; his arm tightening and other hand cradling the back of your head answered it. You didn’t hear him groan so much as you felt the hum against your tongue, which itself was testing just as many boundaries as you were against yourself. The deal was sealed when Johnny pulled back momentarily.

“Can I see you in one of your Janet costumes now?”

You were gonna fuck Johnny Cage.

It was so unnaturally dark when you woke up that at first you weren’t sure you had woken up at all. You were lying on your stomach, that much you could tell, and the time on the digital clock read ‘10:47’ in a knowing shade of crimson. Blinking a few times and stirring your naked body against the so-soft-it-was-cool-to-the-touch, extremely not-your sheets you realized that you were in fact awake and in a bed. Silk. Naked. Then you felt the weight of one large hand wrapped lazily around your wrist.

The realization, or rather reminder, that you were neither in your bed nor alone came embarrassingly slow to you. You smelled it before you saw it. It was too dark to rely on your sight anyways.

And you’d recognize that cologne anywhere…

The panic of what the two of you had done, what you had done to him, what you had let him do to you hit your adrenaline centers like seeing a spider crawl across your hand. Like feeling his hand on your wrist.

Your sheet-tangled legs wheeled you back for the edge of the bed behind you, away from the man, the face you knew you’d find if you had pushed forward against the silk sheets instead of pulled back like you were doing right now. You knew what you had done last night. Boy, did you know… And the scary thing was that you hadn’t hated it one bit if your memory and the sudden fluttering in your stomach served you right.

His fingers strained against you yanking your wrist away from him… then tightened the moment your foot, nay, your ankle rolled. The joint was jelly the moment it hit the cold marble floor, gravity pulling the rest of your lower body and the sheet wrapped around you with it. You heard a grunt as the fall tugged your now-awake counterweight ever so slightly toward you. You grunted in response when he released you and you fell fully backward.

There was a click of a button and the L.A. morning began to shine directly in your eyes. Your hands acted instinctively: one shielding your eyes and the other blindly tugging the sheet up around your body, hastily covering what you could. As if Johnny hadn’t seen all of it hours ago…

You rose to your feet, more wobbly than expected. Were you… sore? Johnny was already standing, tugging a pair of boxers over him, his back muscles flexing as he did so, angry pink scratch marks running along his shoulder blades… You bit your lip and clenched the sheet tighter between your fingertips. Really… that’s where your mind is right now…

Johnny turned to his nightstand rummaging through it. “Here.” A tee flew in your direction and you fumbled it between your occupied hands. You could feel the beginnings of Johnny’s smile as he watched you with those goddamn brown eyes. No. Not happening. Not again… not soon anyways.

“Turn around.” You demanded.

Johnny dropped his jaw, throwing his arms out from sides. “What are you-?! Are you serious?”

“I’m so serious, Johnny.” You said, stone cold. The sheet wrapped around you betrayed your modesty, sliding down, exposing more of your chest. He silently watched, even standing on his toes momentarily as if to get a better vantage point. “Johnathan Carlton.”

“Oh, Jesus Christ! Fine!” It was at this moment he regretted telling you his full name. There wasn’t much else he regretted with regard to you though, especially with how it had led to last night.

You dropped the sheet and hastily pulled the shirt on once he obliged. “Boxers too!” You called tugging the shirt down. It wasn’t short on you per se. It was just… breezy.

“So bossy…” he grumbled, making sure you could hear him, but immediately obeyed, grabbing you a pair and threw it to you with alarming accuracy over his shoulder. “You decent?” he lilted, still turned around.

Gilda reference…

“Me? Yeah, I’m decent,” you answered, unable to hide your amusement as you finished the exchange with as deadpan of a tone as you could manage. Johnny turned to face you again right as you began looking around the room.

A table that usually rested against a wall? Toppled.

The vase usually on top of it? Shattered. The painting hung on said wall? Propped against the floor crooked.

The hutch that framed the other side of the doorway? Random drawers hung open. One was halfway off the track and broken. There were clothes, yours and his, littered along the path to the bed, shoe scuff marks trailing off the heels of yours and his shoes on the otherwise immaculate marble. Upon closer inspection of the windows you noticed a crack spidering near where it met the next window about the height of Johnny’s biceps. The lamp on the nightstand of the opposite side of the bed was on the floor.

You don't know why you didn’t look at the bed itself sooner but when your eyes landed on the bed frame off kilter in favor of the right-side of the foot and the head of the bed broken in no less than three different places, your hand came up to your mouth, eyes landing on him. Speechless. As if on cue, the lamp on your side of the bed, his bed, dropped to the ground.

“You’re awfully quiet.” He remarked.

You simply closed your eyes and shook your head in disbelief. You couldn’t believe that the two of you, just the two of you, had left his room in such a state. It looked like someone had broken in and entered just to smash shit and make a mess of his room. “I just…”

“You weren’t quiet a few hours ago.” Johnny’s smile was back. His arms were crossed over his broad, bare chest. Bruises. Hickeys, actually. The broken bed was still between the two of you.

You tilted your head at him and blinked, eyes locked on his stupid handsome face. “Really? You had to say that?”

“I don’t know what you’re so grumpy about. I had a really good time last night-”

“-I’m not grumpy-”

“-like a really really good time-”

“-Okay, that’s-”

“-like a great time last night-”

“-Johnny-”

“-Best birthday present ever in fact.” He finished pointedly, never once having broken eye contact with you. “Which, by the way, if you keep looking at me like that we’re gonna have to go for round 6. Round 8 for you.”

“Johnny!” you scolded, finally allowing the laughter to escape your body, hearing him reply your name to you in the exact same tone. You felt like you couldn’t do anything but chuckle for about ten seconds.

“I’m pretty damn sure I wasn’t the only one that had a good time,” he replied, throwing his hands up in surrender and sauntering over to you at a casual pace. You watched him walk up to you putting his hands gently on your upper arms. “Am Iiii…. wrong in thinking that?”

Your head lolled up to face him, eyes rolling as you couldn’t quite meet his. A sheepish “no” is all you can manage.

“Okay…? And…?”

Your heart finally got comfortable directing your eyes to him. Just like right before the events of the previous evening your words were once again failing. What could you even say right now? There were a lot of things you had realized in the last twelve-ish hours that past you would’ve been jarred to learn.

“Why are you being so quiet? You’re freaking me out!”

“I’m sorry!” You replied frantic, one of your hands rubbed roughly the side of your face. There was truly no way for you to formulate thoughts, not while he was touching you. “I’m sorry. I’m just… thinking! There’s a lot to think about!”

“Like…?” He led, his hands still on your arms as he began rubbing them.

“Would you get your hands off of me? I can’t think when you do that!” You snapped. There was no anger behind it. Just frustration.

A laugh. You should’ve known he was going to laugh.

“Okay, while you think, also think about what you want for breakfast. We can order brunch too. I don’t really have a preference.” He pulled you close and you let him press a kiss to the side of your head. It was such a sweet and normal gesture that it startled you how little it startled you. He began walking around back to his side of the bed to grab his phone and moved to head for the bathroom, sticking his head out of the doorway as the shower faucet turned on. “Anything you want. My phone’s on the counter, just add it to the cart.” Johnny haphazardly told you his phone password as he hopped into the shower. Complete trust.

You stared at the doorway to the bathroom like it had just spoken to you. That would have been less confusing than what was running through your mind right now. In less than a day, you had celebrated your costar/“friend”’s birthday, danced on him drunk, gone multiple rounds with him in his mansion bedroom, woken up in his bed, and now he supposedly wanted you to stay for breakfast.

“You can use my toothbrush by the way! And if you hate the shirt you can grab whatever!”

A man notorious for his sex-capades. A bold flirt. Someone you knew had a history of many, many one night stands. Wanted you to use his toothbrush. Why wasn’t he kicking you out?

Your feet carried you swiftly to the bathroom before you could stop them. “Johnny. You’re not kicking me out.” It wasn’t a question. It wasn’t meant to be one. You didn’t know what it was supposed to be.

It was his turn to be confused. “No?” He poked his head out from behind the foggy glass partition, shampoo in his hair, suds running down his chest. “Why… would I kick you out?”

“Don’t you usually kick people out after?”

“Yes?” His form went back behind the foggy glass.

“But not me.”

“No.”

Your brows furrowed. “Why?”

“Because I like you?” He popped back out, lathering his hair. “I’m sorry, was it not clear before we went at it several times last night that I like you?”

You caught a glimpse of yourself in the steamy mirror you were in front of. You could barely make out the t-shirt you were wearing. A ‘When Harry Met Sally’ graphic tee over some baggy brown checkered boxers. This would be what you were wearing right now…

His hand wiped his face as he regarded you. “Wait, you know we fucked last night, right?”

You scoffed. “Johnny.”

“Like multiple times. ‘Cause that’s what I meant by round number 6. And if you didn’t know what I meant by ‘round 8 for you,’ I meant that-”

“Johnny!”

He expelled air out of his pursed lips before disappearing again. “Okay, let me level with you. You’re saying my name a lot in that annoyed way that you’re doing and while it’s a lot different than how you were saying it last night, it’s still kinda turning me on-”

“Oh, Jesus Christ-!”

“Actually, you know what? I think it’s the general annoyed tone. I’m discovering something about myself right now.”

“Johnny!”

“Babe, you have to stop, like seriously…”

You were silent, still standing there, annoyed. Babe. There was steam rolling out of the shower but you were certain that if there were any onlookers to this intimate moment they might also see steam coming out of your ears. Your gears in your brain were running in neutral. What was happening?

“You like me?”

“Yes.”

“And you want to have breakfast together?”

“Or brunch, yeah. You want mimosas? I can order us some champagne. I’m in the mood for celebrating.”

You shook your head but not to the mimosas. Mimosas sounded great. “Is there something I’m missing here? You want to get breakfast after last night and you are being so casual about it. What is going on right now?”

The water turned off and Johnny stepped out. As it would turn out you had positioned yourself right next to where his fresh black towels of various sizes were hung. He stopped right in front of you. Tall, buff, dripping wet, naked, and looking down at you. You were fighting to keep your eyes on his brown eyes. You weren’t sure if it was anymore of a relief to look at him like that though.

“Pass me a towel?”

You scowled at him as you shoved one into his chest and leaned against the wall, using your hand as a partition on the side of your face between you and him. Your jaw was set, frustrated.

“Guess what?”

“What.”

“It’s you looking annoyed that does it for me too.”

“Oh… my God.” You stomped back into the room, taking a seat on the crooked mattress and rubbing your temples.

He called after you from the bathroom. “I didn’t think you’d be so frustrated by being told how sexy you are right now. And you were amazing last night too. Seriously, even better than I imagined.”

“You imagined it?”

“I imagine it with most people.” You furrowed your brows and looked up in contemplation as he said that. Johnny Cage. What a guy. “Did you think I didn’t imagine it with you? I mean, we’re both hot and had some serious ‘will-they-won’t-they’ tension. We’ve played romantic opposites. I hit on you regularly and I’ve definitely been interested in you for some time now. Wait, had you never imagined it with-?”

“Stop, stop, stop,” you waved your hands in front of you. “You’ve been interested in me?”

“It’s basically a habit for me to flirt with you.” The last part of his sentence came out muffled as you heard him take a toothbrush to his busy mouth. “I do it about as frequently as I check my phone.”

“I thought you were joking.”

Silence. Complete silence. Then, “... are you sure you know that we fucked last night?”

“Johnny.”

“Babe.”

You rolled your eyes. “Can we rewind to the part where you said that you’ve been interested in me supposedly for some time? Is that true?’

There was the sound of a spit in the sink and then the faucet running briefly. Johnny appeared in the doorway, leaning with the towel clinging to his hips. Dangerous.

His arms were crossed over his chest and there was a serious expression on his face. You thought to yourself that this was one of very few times you’ve ever seen him wear such sobriety on his features. His dark eyes were suddenly piercing like this. You weren’t sure you liked it. “Okay, what’s wrong? Do you regret last night? Because if you do we can pretend this whole thing never happened. I mean it. I can be a paragon of professionalism as I try to get over you. It’ll be hard but I can do it.”

“No. I don’t regret last night at all. I just…” You wrung your hands together in your lap. “When you talk like that, it makes me think that you actually like me and I can’t tell if you’re joking anymore because I like you.”

“I think you’re the only person to ever think ‘this person hit on me so much that it must mean they don’t like me.’” Your chuckle mingled with his and he pushed off the doorway, beginning his approach to crouch in front of you. His fingers interrupted your wringing hands, gently intertwining them with yours.

And there he was. That was the thing about Johnny - he was always there. There with his brown eyes that always seemed to twinkle like he was about to tell a joke. “I like you, okay? I have liked you. I will probably continue to like you until you give me a reason to hate your guts which will be really, really hard to do.”

“And you’re not kicking me out.”

“Fuck, no. I’m not kicking you out.” He said in a low voice. The two of you were close together. He didn’t need to be any louder.

“I can’t do ‘casual’ with you, Johnny,” you said. You were serious. Your eyes darted between his earnestly.

“That’s perfect because I can’t either.”

Your brows furrowed. “... To be clear, I want this to be serious.”

“Babe, we’re holding hands and you’re sitting on the bed we broke in my clothes and I’m crouched in front of you in nothing but a towel.” He brought your knuckles up to his lips to kiss them.

“Right.” You shook your head, as if to clear the worries. Johnny pressed his lips to your forehead. “Right. And you’re serious?”

He tilted his head at you, incredulous. “I’m not going to ask if you’re sure we fucked again because now I think you’re just fishing for compliments. You’re sexy and great in bed.”

You laughed out his name.

“You know what? I think it’s you saying my name too.”

A playful shove to his shoulder did nothing to deter him from leaning forward to kiss you through the laugh. “You’re way too horned up to talk any kind of sense right now.”

“Yep!” He replied instantly, leaning forward. Johnny’s big hands, with which you had gotten well-acquainted last night, planted themselves on either side of you. Your own hands found his cheeks. “Wanna ‘not talk’ with me?” He whispered against your lips.

You laughed again feeling his smile along your neck as he began traveling downward. He was pushing you back toward the mattress. “Tempting… but I’m hungry…”

“That’s perfect. So am I,” Johnny practically growled as his hands settled on your thighs, beginning to pry them apart. You obliged, giggling.

You laughed again. “Johnny…”

“Babe, you have to not-”

“It’s your name!”

“I can’t help it. I’m like that guy with the dogs and the bells.” His fingers toyed with your waistband. Well, his waistband… but who was getting technical?

“Pavlov?”

“Kinky.”

You stood halting him and he stood with you, pulling you into a hug. You needed to clean up at least a little bit. You rested your chin on his chest.

“Mimosas.”

“Okay.”

“A shit ton of pancakes and breakfast sides.”

“Got it.”

“I’m gonna get in the shower. After you’re done ordering, you can help me.” You walked to the bathroom and he slapped your butt as you left.

“Will do.” Silence. “Hey, babe.”

“Yes, Johnny?” The shower turned on.

“I think it’s just you.”

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chamomileteahouse · 3 years ago

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Glimpse of Us

❇ Pairing: Zhongli x gn!reader

❇ Summary: He looks at you as if you were someone else whenever he tucks glaze lilies behind your ear. part 2

❇ Category: Angst

❇ Note: I blame all those glimpse of us tiktoks about Zhongli for this. /hj

“I love you, you do know that, my dear?” He tucks a glaze lily behind your ear, you did not understand the sudden question from your lover but you nod as you take his hand to cup your cheeks.

Safe to say, you and your relationship with the man are in every way perfect. Your hands fit each other's like puzzle pieces, and your hearts beat in unison, some might even say that it seemed like the both of you knew each other for a thousand years. A grin tugs on your cheeks as you quietly thank the man for his small gesture.

“Of course I do and I love you just as much,” You smile and place a kiss on the palm of his hand, “Why do you suddenly ask? Is anything bothering you, Zhongli?” You only ask him in formality, a way to start a conversation with him.

It was just before sunrise, and both you and your lover strolled in a field of glaze lilies. You knew how much he adored those flowers, how he gently pluck them out from the ground, and would always tuck one to your ear. It would not be the first time the both of you spent time in this place. He always told you that when he looks at glaze lilies he would often remember you—at least that’s what he tells you.

He shakes his head before his eyes fall on the patch of glaze lilies on the ground, “Nothing. I just love you,” He whispered, but something in his voice makes it sound like he was convincing himself he loved you rather than declaring he did and it makes him internally wince. But you don’t notice that. You never do.

Perhaps that’s why he was a bit frustrated; how you let him hold you with no repercussions or any venom in your voice, how you still kiss him tenderly or let him stare at your eyes despite trying to find something else from it. He was a selfish man. It disgusted him terribly.

“I just wanted to tell you I love you dearly,” he quickly adds, but his downturned head says otherwise and your smile slowly drops.

“Are you sure?” You placed your hand on his cheek to make him look at you, “I’m worried now.” You frowned. You try to look for anything wrong with the area or think of anything that happened before you arrived that could've made your lover upset. But there was nothing.

And Zhongli could not look at you at that moment, as all his guilt comes crashing down, and like claws, it bares through his heart that he thought he surely locked away. How could an archon like himself feel so helpless under your caring gaze? He truly did not deserve you—That was for sure.

“Please look at me,” You whisper but it comes out as a plea. This was the first time Zhongli has ever avoided your gaze, and you start to second guess yourself. “Have I done something wrong to make you this way, my love?”

He widens his eyes and finally turns to you as he cups your cheek, “No, you could never Ghuizhong—” And he stops himself, his mouth slightly opened as he watched your lip tremble in confusion.

And at that moment he knew he had done something terrible, unforgivable even. His soft hands that cup your face drop to his side, “[Name]...” His voice trails.

“Ghuizhong,” You murmured to yourself as your heart tightens, a lump in your throat growing as you looked at Zhongli who was once more not looking in your direction. His stature was explanation enough to let you know what was going on.

“I see,” you meekly said. And if you were in a better position you would’ve let out an airy chuckle, I mean— what took you so long to figure out your lover’s odd actions and occasional distance. “Have I been a placeholder for her all this time?”

You were a lot of things, but you were not a fool. You could easily put two and two together and in fairness, you could thank Zhongli’s honesty in helping you. Ghuizhong was not a name you knew nothing about, your lover has always been so open in his life as an archon who has lived years in this land. But never did you think that Ghuizhong was someone he held close to him.

Zhongli breathes out in defeat. You were as straightforward as ever, perhaps one of the qualities that attracted him to you. “I do not mean to compare you to her, both of you are different people in different times—”

“—But you do, don’t you? You look at me and see her in a way,” You don’t let him finish, not especially when he still won’t look you in the eyes. Your hand threads on the lily on the side of your head before you handed it to the man in front of you, “That’s why you can’t bear to look at me.”

And in the leftover courage he had left, Zhongli’s head looks at your teary-eyed face, and he hated the way when he saw you he caught a glimpse of someone else’s teary look instead of yours. He then realized that he could never keep you or Guizhong to himself at the same time.

And the lily that had been on your hair falls to the ground.

#zhongli x reader #zhongli angst #zhongli fanfiction #zhongli x y/n #zhongli x you #zhongli x reader insert #reader insert #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact fanfiction #genshin impact #genshin impact angst #zhongli x reader angst #chamomileteahouse

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includeangieinthesequel · 3 years ago

Text

More Madrigal 2022 Headcannons

I am once again asking someone to draw these.

Thank you for all the love on the other headcannons I made!

Mirabel likes to guess what’s gonna be on her Spotify wrapped each year.

Camilo and Mirabel take their Snapchat streak very seriously.

Julieta loves when her daughters ask to take selfies with her.

Pepa demands selfies. As soon as she sees someone taking one she immediately jumps in.

Felix’s lockscreen is Pepa.

Isabela is Tiktok famous. She definitely advocates for injustices on her platform too. As does Julieta. I still think Julieta is like Tabitha Brown on there.

Dolores is constantly watching hair tutorials and trying every single one.

Camilo had AirPods. He lost them exactly a week after getting them. He doesn’t know Antonio found them and uses them all the time.

Isabela is the one that got Pepa into Meg Thee Stallion. It started with “Cash Shit” and just went from there. Isabela heavily relates to the beginning of “Girls in the Hood” cause hell yeah “fuck being good I’m a bad bitch…”

Pepa used to listen to a lot of rap in her day. Like all the greats. She really liked Tupac back in the 90s. Julieta did too but no one believes her.

Agustin gets really emotional when he hears any sort of ballad. He just starts weeping at the first chorus. Julieta thinks it’s sweet.

Luisa has headphones with cat ears on them. Isabela gave them to her and she teared up a little about it.

Mirabel likes to help Isabela dye her hair. She always ends up with stained hands though.

Isabela straightened Dolores’ hair once and Dolores wouldn’t go near her Mami for a week. She didn’t want the humidity or the rain to revert it back before she was ready.

All of them like doing hair masks together.

One time Mirabel accidentally shaved part of her eyebrow off and asked if her mami could fix it.

Julieta said, “Oh honey, I can heal you but I can’t fix bald.”

Mirabel was not impressed.

Isabela can grow weed. She didn’t know what it was first but Julieta knew and told her she’d take care of it. She made edibles. She later explained to Isabela what it was. They had a lot of fun

Felix and Pepa love when Isabela and/or Camilo ask them to do Tiktok dances with them. They’re really good at it.

Isabela had to restrain Pepa from learning the Wap dance from Tiktok. She personally wanted to see it but she didn’t want to scar Camilo for life.

Mirabel cried when she watched Moana (assuming other Disney movies can exist in this universe)

Sometimes Julieta let’s Isabela do her make up for Tiktok. It’s really cute watching them giggle together about whatever Julieta is saying to make her daughter grin.

Luisa often interviews the donkeys the way people do with dogs by holding the mic up to their noses. Antonio loves to translate.

Julieta’s lockscreen is her and her siblings. Her home screen is her daughters and Agustin.

Bruno’s lockscreen is rats.

The triplets have some secret tattoos they got when they were young. They’re good at hiding them too. Pepa and Bruno didn’t think Julieta would actually agree to it but she did.

The cousins accidentally showed Antonio a scary YouTube video and they had to face the wrath of Pepa until he could sleep on his own again. Bruno was also terrified by the video.

The whole family played Among us when it was first popular. Antonio thought it was funny to call people “sus” even when he wasn’t using it right.

Felix knows how to tap dance. He taught Agustin.

Luisa loves wearing lashes. Pepa does too and taught her how to apply them. They share make up tips since Luisa likes to look pretty while doing her chores and Pepa’s make up has to survive all the elements.

#bruno madrigal #encanto #encanto triplets #julieta madrigal #la familia madrigal #madrigal triplets #pepa madrigal #we dont talk about bruno #luisa madrigal #mirabel encanto #mirabel madrigal #isabela madrigal #dolores madrigal #felix madrigal #antonio madrigal #agustin madrigal #alma madrigal #abuela alma encanto #abuela madrigal

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xoxoavenger · 3 years ago

Text

Hostage

pairing: Peter Parker (Tom Holland) x reader

summary: Y/N is captured and tortured by Hydra, and when they send a video of her screaming, they freak. Based on the TikTok sound of Hermonie screaming

word count: 5376

masterlist

"Dance time?"

"Dance time."

The team watched as the youngest Avengers, Y/N and Peter, began dancing crazily. They always did this before missions, shaking their bodies to no music as a sort of 'good luck.' It helped get the jitters out and keep them focused on the mission when their short party ended.

"Spider-Man, are you ready to save the world?" Y/N asked once they finished. Her voice was serious, but her face had a smile. Peter pulled his mask over his face.

"Yes, ma'am." He replied, and the two turned to the rest of the team.

"We're ready." They nodded together, and the team just stared.

"Alright," Bucky said simply, and Steve turned to the mission board on the wall of the jet.

"This is a hard mission. Probably the hardest the two of you have ever been on. We need you two to sneak into the base. We'll cover you. Peter, use your stealth while Y/N uses her invisibility. You will go down two separate halls, meeting right here. You will extract the information and sneak back out, all while keeping contact with us. Can you do this?" Steve asked, turning from the layout to face the two.

"Yes." They responded, faces serious.

"Landing sequence started." Clint said, and everyone got in their seats, buckling up.

"Petey, it'll be fine. You're gonna do great." Y/N grabbed Peter's hand as they felt the jet drop. Although he still had the mask on, Y/N could tell he was nervous.

"Just, don't die. Please." Peter begged, and Y/N rolled her eyes.

"You don't have to worry about me Peter. I'm not going anywhere." She squeezed his hand, and he smiled, squeezing back.

"Good." He said. They felt the plane lurch as it touched down, and everyone unbuckled.

"I love you." Y/N said, immediately going invisible, which made Peter freak out. He didn't like not being able to see her, to know where she was. She could hold her own, he knew this, but it didn't mean he couldn't worry.

The Avengers split up before they got to the base, each going to the spot that had been drilled in their head during meetings. Peter swung himself into the trees, using his sticky hands and feet to stay hidden until he reached the entrance of the base. From there, he waited in the tree brought outside the entrance until Steve said to go. He knew Y/N was on the other side of the base at the other entrance in the same position, but he wished he could see her.

"Everyone in position?" Steve's hushed voice came through Peter's ear. Peter put a hand over his ear to respond, however he waited to hear Y/N's voice before whispering confirmation.

"Y/N, Peter, Bucky is gonna take out the guards near the doors. As soon as the guards next to your door are out, go in. Communicate with us when you find the room." Steve told them.

"Got it."

"Yes, sir."

As soon as they responded, gunshots rang out. The guards next to Peter's door fell, and he dropped down, flipping to the ceiling. He was hoping to avoid the agents, but if he did see them, he'd just web them to the side of the wall before they had a chance to say anything.

Time passed, and Peter had only run into one guard so far. He was easy to take care of, but it was starting to get a little disorienting, crawling on the ceiling. He guessed he was about a forth of the way away from the conjunction where he would meet up with Y/N. The coms had been silent, save for a couple of warnings or asking for help with someone they were fighting. Nothing from Y/N, and he guessed he probably wouldn't hear from her until they were in the room.

He could see the room now, he was close. They were almost done with their mission, and then the couple could go home and sleep off all of this stress.

"I see the room. I haven't seen any agents yet, though. They must be dumber than-" Y/N's voice was cut off by a shriek, and then it was silent. Peter dropped to the ground, running to the room.

"Y/N? Y/N, are you okay?" Tony yelled through the coms, and Peter looked around the common room, then down the hallway she was supposed to be coming from.

"I'm in the room, I don't see her!" Peter said, looking around.

"Peter, finish your mission and get out. Nat and Clint, go find Y/N. She was almost in, probably found with a thermal gun, which means-" Steve trailed off as he thought about how Y/N was caught.

"Peter, get out of there as soon as you're finished. Nat, Clint, you have to clear the way." Steve said urgently. Peter was confused, but he plugged the flash drive into the computer anyway. Once it finished, he turned to see Nat and Clint standing in the doorway, keeping watch.

"Where's Y/N?" Peter asked, running to them.

"We can't get to her right now. We have to leave with what we have." Clint explained as they ran through the halls.

"But we know where she is! Why can't we find her?" Peter pushed, still following them.

"Shut up, we'll explain in the jet." Natasha said, shooting an agent. Peter complied, not happily, although he knew he had to leave her. If the Avengers thought that was what was best, he had to follow their lead. They had been through this situation. They could take care of it.

They finally made it to the jet, Peter, Natasha and Clint jumping on as it took off. Peter ripped his mask off once he was inside, handing the flash drive to Steve.

"Are any of you three hurt?" Steve asked as he put the flash drive away. Peter stared at them all, completely at a loss as to why they left Y/N behind.

"Why are we leaving Y/N?" Peter asked, and no one on the team looked at him. Tony was in the captions chair, staring straight ahead. Peter tore his mask off, breathing hard as his heart raced.

"We had to, Peter. If we tried to save her today, we would have lost someone else." Steve said, slumping down in a chair. It was clear he didn't like the decision, but Peter was still unsure as to why he had made it.

"How do you know that, though? She had just been taken, we could have gotten to her." Peter argued.

"They knew we were coming." Tony said, still facing toward the window even though he wasn't actually flying the jet anymore. "It's how they knew to go down the hallways with a thermal gun. They planned to find her." Peter felt the air leave his lungs as Tony finished speaking.

"Which means that they wanted to take her. They weren't just going for who they found. And if they wanted to take her, they were prepared." Bucky spoke up. Peter looked at his gloved hands, trying to ground himself.

"There was no way we could have prevented this." Natasha said, leaning her head back in her seat.

"I could have helped her. We could have saved her, and instead we're flying away!" Peter shouted, and no one could bear to look at him.

"Even if we did try to save her right then, someone else would have gotten caught. They knew we were coming, they knew she was going down the hallway, and they were probably betting on us going to find her as well. They didn't just want her, they wanted you, too. They're probably after Bucky. If you would have gone, both of you would still be there." Bruce told him, and Peter shook his head.

"I'd rather be down there than up here without her." Peter argued.

"Trust me, kid, you don't. If you're up here you can make a plan to save her. Down there, you're helpless. You can't get out of there on your own." Bucky told him, and Peter suddenly felt guilty. Bucky knew what Y/N may be going through, and Peter just practically wished he'd go through the torture Bucky endured.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean-"

"We know. Now, shut up and help us figure out a plan." Natasha said, and Peter nodded, going to the blueprints of the HYDRA base.

"Video message. No doubt from HYDRA." Bruce said as he burst into the room. Everyone turned to the big screen as Bruce projected it up there. They had been standing around the table, trying to figure out the best plan of attack. It had been three days, and it was safe to say the Avengers had barely slept a collective eight hours in that time. They had to figure out the best plan of attack though. They didn't even know if she was still in Detroit, where she had been taken in the first place.

The camera work was spotty, lines and dots dancing across the screen. But, Y/N's broken face was clear, making everyone's hearts drop. She had blood falling from her mouth and a nostril, a large, bleeding wound on her temple, and although the camera cut off midway down her torso, it was clear she was tied up.

"I didn't take anything!" She cried, and Peter felt tears run down his face as he stared at the screen. He felt sick to his stomach. Her voice was laced with rough pain and exhaustion. Peter would have done anything to switch places with her, to take away her pain.

Y/N began to scream, the kind of scream that makes the hair on the back of necks stand up straight, sending chills down the body. A knife was being pressed into her collar bone without so much as a threat. It looked excruciating as blood poured out of it. Tony looked down, not able to see the young girl in pain.

"Peter!" She screamed at the top of her lungs, making Peter drop to the ground, head in his hands. His legs were numb, much like the rest of him. He had fallen awkwardly, but he couldn't tell. The video cut off, leaving the Avengers to wipe their eyes as they stared at the desk. They were all shaken from the torture video, Peter more than most. Bucky walked out of the silent room, Natasha following, though everyone knew they were going to separate rooms. Sam coughed to cover a sob, and Steve seemed to be putting all his weight on the table. He was more angry than the rest. He was livid, in fact. He scoured the table, finding a sharp pin in the map and plucking it up. Without hesitation, Steve threw it into the middle of the large screen, causing it to shatter outwards. Next, he grabbed a paperweight, causing the map to curl up on itself. He threw it out the window, watching the glass shards fall as the paperweight dropped. He was heaving in angry breaths now, but no one was looking at him. Everyone was focused on their own reaction to what they had just witnessed. Wanda finally left, stoic face as she walked down the hallway. She collapsed outside of her room, leaving FRIDAY to inform Vision to help. Clint was the next to leave, although he didn't go to his room. He didn't tell anyone where he was going when he disappeared, and so when his room was found empty they assumed he went home to his family. That left Sam, Tony, Steve, Peter, Bruce, and Thor, none of them talking or even looking at each other. Peter was still on the floor, and Steve was facing toward the broken window. Sam and Tony stood staring at the table, rescue plans forming in their heads as they tried to push the trauma away. Bruce turned and left, going to his own room as well. He left the tablet on the table.

"I'll take the child." Thor said, his voice expressionless. Peter felt himself being pulled off the ground, his feet hitting the floor. He let Thor practically drag him to his room, and he collapsed on the bed. If his chest hadn't been moving, Thor would have thought that Peter was dead. "We'll find a way to get her. It's what we do." Thor was trying to sound happy and hopeful. Peter just continued his lifeless stare. Tears were dried on his cheeks, eyelashes stuck together. Thor then walked out, shutting the door and making Peter wince slightly. Y/N's screams echoed through his head, her call out to him haunting him. He finally moved, turning to grab his tablet. It was a terrible idea he was having, but he couldn't just lay there and do nothing. He tapped on the screen mindlessly, not stopping until he gained access to the video.

"I didn't take anything!" She screamed as the video started. Peter forced himself to keep his eyes open as rage began to fill his chest. He paused the video, looking around the small area the camera was pointed at. Once he inspected everything, he pressed play again. He hadn't watched this part, only heard it after he fell to the floor. He watched as a knife was dug into her collarbone, and she screamed. He paused again, feeling the urge to throw up as he looked at the scene. She had her head tilted back, screaming, the knife drawing blood across her collarbone. He still didn't gather any information as he looked around. He played the video again, his heart clenching painfully as she screamed his name. He paused it one more time at the end, looking at the mark the knife made. It would need stitches, but he doubted they would do that for her. It would turn into a big, ugly scar, a reminder of her time there.

Peter started the video again.

"First question we need to address is if she is still at the same facility." Sam said. He was joined by Tony, Steve, and Thor in the same room, none of them having left after the video. They pushed their emotions aside, trading them for clarity of mind to find the young girl being tortured.

"They want us to come find her, right? That was the point of the video." Tony said, and Steve shook his head.

"They could be playing tricks on us, trying to get us to go back and be killed when she's not even there." Steve answered.

"We should have just gone back and gotten her." Sam shook his head, looking down at the table. They all felt responsible for her being tortured there, and there didn't seem to be a good answer to get her back.

"If we would have done that, she wouldn't have been the only one we received a video of. We made the right choice." Thor told them. He was the most optimistic, but this was still a tough situation that they didn't want to deal with. Their youngest Avenger was being tortured, which made them all feel sick. It was their job to protect not only the world, but each other, and they failed.

"Play the video again." Tony said, looking at the tablet screen. Everyone stared at him before Thor moved to the tablet, pressing play. The video played, Y/N's screams echoing through the room. It was small, and they needed to gather close to watch the screen. They all knew what Tony was thinking; they needed to scour every frame of the video to figure out how to save her. It was the best way, even if it was painful. The video ended, and they all stared. They couldn't see as much, as the tv had been previously broken, but Tony had an idea it wasn't sight.

"Again." Tony said, and the video started over, the screams filling the room once more.

"Again." There was something they were missing, Tony knew. They were missing key information. But what was it?

"Again." This time, Tony tried to listen to the screams closer, trying to see if she had been yelling something other than Peter's name.

He had been right.

"Right there! I knew there was something." Tony said, hearing something that could be important at the end.

"What is it?" Sam asked. He had been paying close attention, and he hadn't heard anything.

"Turn it up." Tony said, and everyone looked at him as if he were crazy. Did he really want to listen to Y/N's loud pleads for help as she suffered?

"No, no. If you turn it up. I'm leaving." Steve said. He couldn't handle watching the video at that level, and he hadn't heard anything before. There was no way he would watch. Her screams were too horrific.

"Then leave." Tony simply said. Steve stared at Tony as everyone stared back at him.

"You're kidding." He said, not thinking Tony meant it. They'd watched this video at least 27 times, and he was sure Bucky and Natasha were watching it on their own. Hell, they probably already had something figured out.

"Turn it up." Tony repeated, and Steve shook his head.

"Tony-" Steve started to say, but Sam cut him off.

"He has something."

Thor turned the volume up before playing the video. It was excruciating to hear Y/N's screams that loud, practically shaking the windows. Steve shook his head, turning away (as if that would help). The video was almost done, and Steve was about to leave to find Bucky, when Y/N muttered something.

"Utah."

Everyone froze, looking at each other. It had been quiet, almost silent, but with the volume up, they had all heard it. Steve whipped around.

"Did she just say-"

"They're in Utah." Sam cut Steve off, and they all stared at each other.

"Are we sure that's what she said?" Thor asked. They all nodded, looking around.

"If it isn't what she said, we go on a wild goose chase for nothing. How did we miss this so many times?" Steve asked, staring at the map on the table, as if it held the answers.

"She knew she was being recorded. She needed to send us a clue, but make sure HYRDA didn't see. Hell, we almost missed it." Tony said. He was sure she said 'Utah,' no matter how faint it had been.

"I heard that too." Bucky said. They all turned to see him leaning on the door frame. They hadn't heard him come in, but the screams had been bouncing in their brains for awhile.

"There was a base in Utah in the 40s, right, Buck? The one near Herriman. We were going to take it down, but Buck died, and then I died, and we thought HYDRA was gone. It's probably still there." Steve said.

"FRIDAY, pull up a map of the HYDRA base in Herriman." Tony said, and a holographic model of a base showed up over the table.

"There is only a model from the 40s, Boss." FRIDAY informed them, and Bucky walked toward the table, joining everyone.

"It probably hasn't changed much." Bucky said, looking at it.

"You guys are forgetting an important detail." Natasha said, her voice stone cold and emotionless. The boys all looked at her for an answer, not realizing they had even forgot something. They honestly hadn't even noticed her presence. "They sent us the video, without coordinates or clues. They aren't expecting us to come rescue her, or at least not for awhile." Sam cursed under his breath as he realized it too.

"What? What does it mean?" Thor asked, looking at everyone.

"It means they're either killing her after they torture her for information," Steve started, but he couldn't say the 'or,' even if they were all thinking it.

"Or, they're planning on making her a super solider." Bucky said, and the room went silent.

"Her invisibility is valuable to them." Natasha said after a moment, all of them looking at the holograph on the table.

"Yeah, well, her life is more valuable to us. We need to figure out a way to get her out, fast. Call in the team." Tony said, moving away from the table. He couldn't look at it anymore, not after the time he had just spent staring.

"We can't just rush the base, we'll never find her. We need a plan." Steve said, and Tony stopped in the door. He stared ahead, not willing to turn around. This young girl was capture from his team on his watch. He couldn't let her die, or be brainwashed. He had to do something, quick.

But, Tony also knew that rushing in could cause more harm.

"We still need the whole team."

When Peter was called out of his room, not unlike a child, he had smashed everything breakable. Everything unbreakable was laying on his floor. He was on his bare mattress, ready to rip the springs out as he watched the video of Y/N crying for help for what felt like the billionth time. He was no closer to figuring out anything as he was before he saw the video. The only difference now was that he was going crazy and would probably have PTSD from her screams being burned into his memory.

He walked alone to the conference room, meeting the rest of the team, minus Wanda and Clint. He stared at them all, waiting for them to explain.

"She's in Utah." Tony finally said, and Peter felt like all the air rushed out of his lungs.

"H-how did you-"

"She muttered it under her breath at the end of the video. We had to watch it multiple times and at the loudest volume before we realized." Sam explained, and Peter's eyes locked on the holographic base.

"Is this it?" He asked, walking up to the empty spot at the table.

"This model is from the 1940s. It was forgotten about until now. We're pretty sure this is still the layout." Steve answered, everyone's eyes on the base.

"These are the rooms they'll keep low-key prisoners in, like the double agents or random hostages. These rooms are the biggest ones, because they're lined with cells stacked up the ceiling. They're probably empty, as the bases from the 40s are practically abandoned." Bucky explained, pointing to the two large rooms on the outer part of the base.

"Why would she be there if you think it's abandoned?" Peter asked. He had to make sure to cover everything. They needed to find Y/N as soon as possible, and going to a random base would further the process.

"They know that Bucky and I know about that. If we didn't know she was in Utah, it'd probably be the last place we'd check." Steve told him, and Peter nodded, letting Bucky go back to the base.

"These rooms on the second layer are for the agents that live on base. Even if she were a high-class prisoner, she wouldn't be in these. When we go in, we go straight passed them." Bucky pointed to the second part of the base, small rooms lining the prisoner walls. All that was left now were the hallways and the five big rooms in the middle of the base. Four of them were outside of the one in the middle.

"This base wasn't an information base, it was a prisoner one. It's why it was one of the last ones on the list. We won't get any information from this one, except what Y/N can tell us." Steve informed everyone. The Avengers nodded, taking in the layout.

"The last five rooms are for the high end prisoners. This is where Y/N will be kept. Hopefully, she'll be in one of these four. Reality is, she'll be in this one." Bucky pointed to the rooms.

"Why would it be bad if she was in the middle? What happens in the middle?" Peter asked, and the older Avengers all looked at each other. They knew they had to tell Peter, but they didn't know who should be the one to tell him.

"Y/N wasn't kept in the same facility, meaning they aren't planning on us rescuing her." Sam started, but he couldn't get to the important part. Peter looked around, still confused.

"They're using her for information. If she's in one of the four outside rooms, they're going to kill her." Steve said, and that made Peter sick. If that was what would happen if she were in the outside rooms, how could the inside room be worse? What could possibly be worse than death.

Peter realized suddenly. He looked at Bucky, who was staring at the map.

"No, she can't - they're not - no." Peter backed up. She was too young for this. There was no way they could do this to her. She was so innocent. She didn't even like killing flys. She cried during every movie. This couldn't be happening. He felt the bike rise up his throat.

"The most likely situation is they're brainwashing her." Bucky said, and Peter felt his head spin. He turned, moving to the trashcan in the corner of the room and throwing up. This was Y/N, the love of his life, the girl he wanted to marry and start a family with. Every moment without her teared a piece of her heart straight out.

Peter put the trash can down, wiping his mouth. He couldn't freak out. Not now, when they knew where Y/N was. The freak out would have to wait. In the moment, they knew where she was. They could help her. They could save her.

So, Peter put on his big boy pants, put his emotions to the furthest corner of his brain, and walked back to the table.

"How many guards will be there?"

To say the Avengers were shocked at Peter's mood change would be an understatement. After figuring out the rest of the plan, everyone except for Wanda and Clint got on the quinjet and headed to Utah. Peter sat stoically on the jet, eyes closed but face emotionless. He was going through the plan over and over in his head, pretending Y/N was a random hostage they were saving.

"We'll drop Bucky off up here. The rest of us will get out on the ground." Steve said, but the only one who moved a muscle was Bucky. Once they were on the ground, they all split up. Peter had deja vu as he got up into the trees, waiting for his cue. His job was to get in as quick as possible and find Y/N in one of the five rooms at the middle of the base. Steve called through he coms to confirm everyone was in position, and when everyone responded, Bucky shot at the first guard.

Peter dropped from the trees, running into the building. He didn't have time to sneak in on the ceiling, every second he wasted was a second closer to Y/N getting her brain fried or washed out. Everyone else was covering for him anyways. He ran through the halls, webbing everyone he saw to the wall before they had the chance to shoot. He didn't have time to fight them. Once he made it to the middle, he found the four rooms Bucky was talking about. He took a deep breath before walking into the first one.

Empty.

Peter ran to the second one, opening the door.

Empty.

Peter was starting to lose hope. He didn't even know how to get into the middle room. So far, the only doors he had seen were the ones for the rooms he had already opened. He made his way to the third one, trying not to go crazy.

Empty.

Peter was three seconds away from losing his shit. He opened the fourth one. She had to be in here.

Empty.

"She's not in the outside four. How do I get to the middle?" Peter asked.

"You can't just get to the middle." Bucky said, pausing to snipe someone.

"You have to have clearance." He finished, and Peter thought for a second.

"KAREN, can you get me into the middle room?" Peter asked his AI.

"I can get you the path, but it will take a couple minutes to get into the room." KAREN said, He looked around to see that KAREN had illuminated the path to the middle room. He quickly went through the third door he opened, finding the secret entrance to the middle room. A short hallway was presented, and he paused at the gate. On the other side, Y/N was sitting in an uncomfortable looking chair, head forward. She was obviously unconscious. Peter's heart broke as he ran to the gate. She looked a slap away from death.

"Y/N! Y/N!" He yelled. Her head bobbed a bit, showing that she heard him. "How long until you can open the gate?" Peter asked KAREN quickly.

"About three minutes." She responded, and Peter cried out. That was too long. He needed to get to her now. Peter looked at the bars. They looked like they were reinforced, and his suspicions were confirmed as he tried to pull them apart.

"Don't worry, baby, I'm gonna get you out of here." Peter said, looking at the bars. He grabbed them, trying to pry them apart.

"Peter?" Y/N groaned quietly, making Peter pause.

"I'm right here, Y/N. Don't worry, I'm right here, I'm gonna get you out. You'll be okay." Peter said, watching her head loll backwards.

"It hurts." She muttered, giving Peter a clear view of the dried blood covering her right side, where the knife had been stuck into her collarbone.

"I know, baby. But we'll get you all fixed up." Peter said. He was about to go back to trying to rip open the gate when Y/N screamed. Peter looked at her, trying to see the problem. He scoured her body with his eyes until he made it to her left arm. His breath left his lungs as he stared.

Y/N was hooked up to some sort of IV. Peter didn't even know they made needles as large as the one sticking out of her arm. The serum was almost drained.

Peter saw red. He had never been this angry in his life. Emotions flowed through him quickly, and he felt everything in him surge. He gripped the bars, grunting as he pulled them apart. He slid through, running to her. He didn't know what to do, if he should take the needle out. He broke her cuffs off, however, freeing her from the restraints. Bruises littered the parts of her that were restrained, and Peter knew that even more would be found underneath her suit, which was battered and torn, showing off her blood and bruises.

"She was already injected with the serum." Peter said through the comms.

"Pull the needle out. It'll be hard, and she'll scream, but you need to get it out." Steve said, and Peter took a deep breath.

"Okay, baby. I'm gonna pull the needle out." Peter said. He steadied himself, hand around the end, and pulled. It was harder than he thought, even with his super strength. Y/N screamed, but there wasn't much force behind it. She sounded so exhausted, so tired of screaming. The needle just kept on going, and Peter sighed when he finally pulled it out. He threw it on the floor, grabbing a random scrap from the dirty floor and tying it around her arm, which was spewing blood.

"The gate is open." KAREN said, and Peter picked Y/N up in his arms. She was limp, eyes barely open as Peter moved back through the base.

"I'm coming out now. Cover me while I get her to the jet." Peter said. He ran out, holding Y/N tight as he made his way to the jet. He finally made it, setting Y/N down on the medical bed they had grabbed for her. Bruce began to clean her wounds, and Peter held her hand. Her head was facing him, and he pushed the dirty hair out of her face.

"You're going to be okay, baby. I'm here now. It'll all be okay."

#peter parker imagine #peter parker x reader #peter parker x reader angst #peter parker angst #peter parker #spider man imagine #spider man x reader angst #spider man x reader

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haik-choo · 5 years ago

Text

karasuno boys as boyfriends

a/n: im just basically astral projecting myself into these situations; ALSO if you want more detailed ones, just ask, and you shall receive! (also this is my first post i’ve written on here! but if you want plenty of kpop content i’m @hyucksong where i’ve been writing and I am still active! :))

---

[KARASUNO BOYS AS BOYFRIENDS HEADCANNONS]

-tsukishima, yamaguchi, hinata, kageyama, tanaka, nishinoya, sugawara, daichi, and asahi

---

tsukishima kei.

the type to look you straight in your eyes when you ask for a hug and say “no, who do you think i am, your boyfriend?”

runs his hands through your hair from the front and then when his hand reaches the back of your head he pulls you into him and kisses you either on the forehead or the lips <3

in order to be in a relationship with him you HAVE to have the same type of humor.

i don’t think he could date someone who doesn’t make fun of people with him

you guys are like best friends who make fun of each other and. make out a little every once in a while

he’ll hold your hand and hug you in public but he will NEVER do anything else, especially not in front of the boys

he thinks the blush that ignites on your kissable cheeks should be for his eyes only

he gave you a keychain that had a cute little strawberry shortcake on it. and it’s your most prized possession

will shoot a glare at anyone who watches you too closely. like no. don’t get googly eyed over MY girlfriend.

and you don’t have a problem with that ;)

yamaguchi tadashi.

he likes to watch you when you’re not looking to pick out the little habits you do

he thinks that knowing someone’s little hardly noticeable habits is one of the most intimate things on mother earth

he knows that you stir the milk in the bowl three times before you pour the cereal in to check for chunks because you accidentally drank spoiled milk when you were younger

NEVER has an issue getting you a gift for any occasion. he ALWAYS knows what you’re looking at and what you want and you lowkey think he can read your mind but in reality he just pays attention <3

you’re either just as shy as him to bring out his more assertive side or more assertive than he is to bring out his more timid side -- both are good

kisses you on the forehead and holds your hand in public -- he loves PDA because he can show you off :’)

yes. he kisses the back of your nape in public. so what.

YES. HE CLOSES HIS EYES WHEN HE DOES IT AND ACCIDENTALLY INHALES YOUR SCENT AND WHISPERS IN YOUR EAR THAT YOU SMELL GOOD. IDC IF YOU THINK THAT’S CREEPY. IT’S CUTE. YES. HE GIVES YOU THAT LOOK THAT SAYS HE’S CRAZILY IN LOVE WITH YOU. SO WHAT.

kageyama tobio.

he probably fell in love with you because you were just as passionate about something else as he is about volleyball; music, drawing, writing, math, science, reading -- whatever

i see this relationship as being one that’s like...accelerated friends. like,,, you act like him and hinata except you kiss sometimes and he can see you at the end of the wedding aisle

DEFINITELY reads cosmopolitans once you start dating because he wants to be a good boyfriend for you <3

PDA is literally little to NONe,,, not because he doesn’t like it...it’s just because he doesn’t realize that he’s not showing you affection lololol

like in one arm he has his athletic duffel bag and the other he has a volleyball

he doesn’t mean to neglect you he just does AGAGAG

realized he liked you when he thought about you when he was drinking his milk and mindlessly bought you one too

the first time y’all kissed. he literally stared at you so intensely for a SOLID ten minutes debating in his head whether or not he should just go for it or wait or just smash his face into yours and hope your lips connect

he chose to cross his fingers and ended up smashing his forehead and nose into yours

it was cute tho <3

hinata shoyo.

YALL HAVE DATES WHERE YOU BABYSIT HIS SISTER. WTF SO CUTE

when yall cuddle and you’re the little spoon he likes to put his head on your shoulder/between your neck and watch as you scroll through tiktok or instagram and just mindlessly talk about his day

the type of boyfriend where neither of you can cook and you both confusedly look at recipes on google like: ????? wtf is the difference between brown sugar and regular sugar

it’s his INSTINCT to hold your hand. no matter what. his hand just...gravitates to yous.

AND HIS LIPS JUST FIND YOUR CHEEK??? like it’s so natural to him to kiss your cheek when he sees you, even in public. it’s so adorable i--

THE TYPE OF GUY TO WIPE OFF FOOD FROM THE CORNER OF YOUR MOUTH AND STILL EAT IT AND SAY “you taste good!~” AND NOT EVEN REALIZE WHAT HE SAID. BUT WHEN YOU DO IT TO HIM HE BLOWS A FUSE

he loves to tickle you. like you’ll be vibing, drinking whatever you drink in the morning and he’ll come up to you all casually and kiss you cheek...and then he’ll pounce

he holds you close to his chest when he tickles you, partally because he likes feeling your laugh vibrate on his chest, and partially because it’s easier to not get tickled if he’s right behind you

his sister LOVes you and it just. makes him so happy

tanaka ryuunosuke.

you CANNOT remove his hand from your ass. it is permanently glued there. it is attached to you. yes, even in public.

number 1 hypeman! he will always support you, no matter what! you could be in a competition to raise the biggest beetle and he’ll be there rooting you on and staying up late with you as you rear your award-winning beetle

you two lay next to each other on the couch/on his bed and he’ll have his arm around you and you’ll lay your head on his chest as you watch netflix shows

YOU, NISHINOYA, AND TANAKA? UNSTOPPABLE TRIO. POWER TRIPLET.

i don’t imagine him being shy when he first kisses you; the first time he kissed you, you were literally just. existing and he literally just...couldn’t hold it in...and he just went for it

literally CATAPULTS himself into you and kisses you senseless

yes you and saeko are besties she gives you ALL the tea about young tanaka

the type to take off his shirt more during practice if you’re there watching, and literally BURN red if you mention anything about his muscles

you once traced a vein in his arm and commented on how hot it was and he literally short-circuited

kiss his biceps. kiss his abs. kiss his cheek. please. it’s all he wants. he’s touch-starved

nishinoya yuu.

SUCH an excited boyfriend

like he seriously gets so hype doing ANYTHING with you pleaSE give this man an award. you’ll be at the amusement park and the line to get into a ride will be three hours and he’ll be like

“I get to spend three hours with you?!! fucking sick! absolutely radical!”

he’s bold in public, but only because he wants to rub you in his teammates faces, but his ears will be Red

at home, he’s calmer :) he just loves to spend time with you, even if you’re sitting on a bench watching him practice receives for five hours straight in the blazing sun.

he just treasures your time so much, you treats you like a precious gem -- he will NEVER treat you wrong. deadass has no problem admitting when he’s wrong -- but if he thinks he’s right then he WILL stand his ground

he’s a passionate man, who loves just as passionately.

his favorite time to kiss you is after you’ve taken a sip of a soda because he likes the taste of the syrup and the burn of the carbonation, but most of all because he likes the taste of your lips in combination with all of them

NIPS AT YOUR EAR. DEADASS JUST LOOKS AT YOU BRUSH A PIECE OF HAIR BACK WHEN YOU’RE DOING HOMEWORK AND IS LIKE “free real estate” AND C H O MPS

the day nishinoya told everyone yall were dating, kiyoko stopped you in the hallway and deadass got on her knees and thanked you LITERALLY she was like “i’ll buy you anything. give the word and it’ll be yours.”

sugawara koushi.

would kiss you on the first date. deadass. he’ll just drop you off at your doorstep and you’re still high on adrenaline, and you’re lowkey hoping he’ll kiss you and you get little disappointed when he doesn’t and then when you least expect it. bam. his lips on yours

his smell oh god, he literally smells like fresh sugar cookies. it’s like as soon as you get anywhere near him his smell just invades you nose and. you’re powerless. you just wanna hug him

never smells bad. try me, bitch. NEVER.

his hugs are literally god’s gifts. he loves hugging you. he just completely envelopes you with his pretty setter arms and his smell takes up all the space in your head and nothing else exists for that moment, just you two

loves tucking your hair behind your ears or just moving it out of your face; doing homework and your bangs are in the way? not for long because he’ll clip them up for you <3

he’s pretty mischievous and will playfully put his hand next to your head and lean down with such a HOT look in his eyes

and he’ll say some shit like “i wanna devour you” and then he’ll laugh afterwards and give you a kiss on the forehead and you’re standing there. like -.- o.o -.- o.o

whenever he feels insecure about his position on the team, you’re always there to comfort him and he’ll just lay between your legs and rest his face on your stomach as you comb your fingers through his hair and scroll through tiktok

PDA? yes please. uh huh. mhmm. he doesn’t care who sees his love for you he just wants to love on you baby. kisses you on the lips, no problemo

daichi sawamura.

you and suga are the only ones who can scare him when yall are mad lol

boyfriend where you’ve dated for like a year but it feel like 50 have already passed. in a good way!

this relationship is so ungodly domestic. like from the first day it’s just pure comfort and he’s like your rock and you’re his anchor

you two bicker a lot but it’s lighthearted and you just feel so secure with him that poking fun at him and at yourself is just natural

daichi. gives. god. hugs. he does. it’s fact.

his arms are just so big and he has so much body warmth and he probably smells like some bullshit cologne like “smoldering woods” and it’s just so. daichi

you two spend the night at each other’s house so often it’s like you already live with each other and people always forget that you don’t lolol

totally sleeps with his shirt off and only with underwear. isn’t awkward about it either; when he wakes up he puts on sweats but still remains topless (not that you’re complaining)

you two are like. the strict parental couple, when you walk together whether it be down the street or in the hallways, you just look so right for each other it’s. mind blowing

doesn’t mind kissing you a little in public but really thinks that stuff should be for private; so normally he just kisses your temple and always has an arm either around your shoulder or around your waist

WHEN THE TEAM SEES YOU KISS ON THE LIPS THEY GO “EW” EVEN SUGA AND ASAHI AFIEFHEWIF

asahi azumane.

literal fucking teddy bear. god please cuddle him. please kith him. please comb through his hair with your fingers and kiss his nape and kiss the back of his head. please i beg of you.

did NOT ask you out first. he wrote love letter to you and then waiting behind the gym because he thought being near the volleyball gym would give him some luck and them you got in front of him and he was. deer in the headlights

needless to say you asked him out and kissed his cheek. he DIED

even once yall are comfortable in the relationship he still needs reassurance every once in a while because he’s a little insecure, not that you’ll leave him for someone else, but that he’s not good enough

his PDA skill are. subpar. he usually just holds your hand and that’s it, but sometimes kisses the corner of your eye or nose and you just combust

OH RIOGEH TOTALLY DOES BUTTERFLY AND BUNNY KISSES. YES GOD YESSSSS

when yall cuddle he doesn’t like spooning. he likes to be able to see your face and the expressions you make, so doesn’t like being the little or big spoon; yall face each other and just lets your head lay on his arm even tho it’s numb. im: soft

kisses are so sweet, slow, and hesitant. he doesn’t really kiss you often because he has terrible timing but...when he does it’s like the whole world just becomes still in that moment and nothing matters but his hands on your waist and yours in his hair

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svchengss · 3 years ago

Text

two halves | l.mh

PAIRING. mark lee x reader

GENRE. fluff, heavy angst

WARNINGS. major character death, grief

WORD COUNT. 2.4k

SUMMARY. right after his death, mark watches how you cope with the loss

A/N. i saw this one tiktok and it kinda inspired me to write this

// just to let you guys know, reblogs and feedbacks are appreciated !! thank you for reading :D

white walls, white room.

mark scrunched his face, his eyelashes slowly fluttering open, the dark brown iris adjusting the size of the pupils due to the brightness of the walls reflected upon it. a soft groan vibrating from his throat, he assessed his surroundings where nobody or nothing else is present. he looked down to inspect his clothing, hoping that it would give him any clue of this room or space he’s in - an all white outfit. this scene looks exactly like the one in the movies where the characters realize they are dead. except this time, he really is.

THE REALIZATION.

the muffled sounds of cries and sobs rang through his eardrums, triggering a reflex to wake up from the state that he thought was a slumber. he is lying on the hospital bed with the light blue clothing piece, faint light illuminating the space where people are huddled up around him. he waved his right hand in the air to let them - who he later remembered as his family members and friends, know that his eyes are already open. nobody moved even the slightest, the atmosphere being very much dead, scent of medicine intoxicating his mind.

then he saw someone who he holds very dear to his heart - you, enter the hospital room, dropping onto her knees as soon as she saw his state of condition. in an instant, he shot up from his lying position and ran over towards the crying you, shoulders shaking and all. bringing his hands to hold you in his embrace, not even a glance spared by you brought a hundred and one questions to him. why didn’t anybody acknowledge him when he woke up? why can’t you feel his touch?

“mark lee. time of death, 10:23 pm,” the tall doctor with glasses rested on the bridge of his nose announced before leaving the room, holding the clipboard close to his chest. mark gauged the monitor screen next to the bed, the line indicating his heartbeat is no longer showing spikes going up and down - instead becoming a flat line, deafening beep present with it. then he sees himself still laying on the white sheets, eyes still closed and no signs of breathing evident. a surge of panic rushed through his veins.

this can’t be real.

mark rushed into the bathroom, a surprised gasp leaving his lips. his body is semi-transparent, the shape of the toilet bowl can be seen through his left shoulder. his body shakes with terror, slapping himself in the cheeks multiple times just to make sure that this whole fiasco is just a nightmare.

oh my god. no, this is real.

mark stood in the back of the crowd, witnessing the funeral of someone and that someone being him. of course, he’s never expected to get the sight of his own service. his mother is standing beside you, her hands rubbing circles onto your back in an attempt to calm your mourning state. you’re still looking ever so pretty, a black chiffon dress on your body with white pearl necklace on your collarbones and your wavy black hair hanging down your shoulders. not that anybody else would notice, it’s someone’s death after all.

“stay strong, y/n. he will always be in our hearts,” the same rhythm of sentence in tones full of pity being directed towards you. mark’s sister enveloped you into a warm hug despite the chilly atmosphere, whispering comforting words into your ears before getting into the family’s car. you’re not going back home, not yet when you still feel reluctant to let him go.

“why did you leave me?” the only coherent words from your hoarse voice can be heard. mark, who is crouching next to you, is holding his tears back. instead, he sends a sorrowful smile - not that you can see him anyway. is there any way to let you know of his presence?

“goodbye, love. i’ll see you tomorrow. i promise,” you dusted the back of your dress from any dirt or debris, leaving a rose on his tombstone. the thing is, he doesn’t want to part from you. and that’s why his figure is seated beside you in the cab. he grazed his thumb on your knuckles, making you feel tingles rushing through. you pushed the slight thought away, you must be tired to be feeling things.

you slowly opened the door to your apartment, you and mark’s to be exact. the whole house is making those memories make their presence in the back of your head again. the kitchen where you two baked cookies for christmas last year. the bedroom where you snuggled upon his chest, not wanting to start your day just yet. the piano where he sang those cheesy songs for you. the living room where you slow danced at 3 in the morning. his favourite mug resting on the countertop, probably will not be used again. this whole situation is too overwhelming for you. you feel weak.

with each day passing by, you didn’t even miss one without a visit to his resting lot. you would tell him stories of how your day went or something that you read which would made him ponder. the words carved on it are already etched onto your brain.

mark lee. a son, a brother and a loving partner.

the clock hanging on the grey wall has it’s arms stretched out to display the time - two in the morning. you can’t sleep just yet, not having any for the past few days even. dark circles are appearing around your eyes, not yet recovered from the puffiness from all the crying. mark’s heart aches everytime he takes upon your state. he feels very guilty, not that death was his choice after all. it’s simply fate, a cycle of life, a destiny that every single creature on this planet will end up with.

you’ve taken the whole month off work, still feeling ever so helpless. in fact, you can’t even remember the last time you’ve stepped out of the apartment, the night before his passing perhaps? you’ve completely shut yourself out from any interactions - deactivating your social media, not accepting any calls. you just need time to heal.

as if you’re being controlled by some type of mastermind, you shoot up on the balls of your feet, pulling away from the couch. those images of you slow dancing with mark, hands in each other’s holds, your chin rested in the crook of his neck and being ever so engrossed in love are coming back more often now. you trudged to the vinyls arranged neatly on the shelf, picking one before placing it on the turntable - frank sinatra, one of his all time favourites.

holding your hands up at about his usual height, you start twirling around. you can almost see the outline of his smile, his features right in front of you. except, he is. he’s been observing your moves the whole night. mirroring your current position, as if you can really see him, it’s a miracle for him. overjoyed actually, he doesn’t realize the salty tears streaming down his cheekbones and so are yours.

“thank you for coming, dear. it’s a pleasure seeing you in what, weeks?” a laugh escaped the woman’s lips. you reciprocated her hug before stepping into the living room. it’s been a long time since you’ve been here, was it in january? mrs. lee had invited you over for a simple dinner, checking up on how you’ve been. you can see that the family is still struggling over his passing, the way his sister’s eyes are not twinkling as usual makes it hard to cover up the lie.

“you see, this was on his high school graduation day. he was very happy that day, doing all sorts of dances and stuff. finally escaping from hell as he said,” she giggled. she’s been displaying all sorts of memoirs to you, photo albums and photographs scattered on the wooden floor. to be honest, you’ve never seen these before. all smiles mark lee, easy to notice among the crowd. not that he’s changed, he’s still that boy now. mark just sat on the couch - his favourite spot, observing the throwback session going on. if he’s still here, his sister for sure is going to tease the hell out of him.

“he told us so much about you, you know? as if everything reminds him of you, that boy is lovestruck. really,” that sudden confession made your tongue dry, unable to find a perfect response. you were really that special to him.

“drive safe honey, you can come over whenever you want. you know you’re always welcome here, right?” mrs. lee handed you the small box filled with some things you’re going to keep. she kissed both of your cheeks, mr. lee standing behind her giving you a small wave. a small smile crept up onto your face before igniting the engine, turning your wheels out of the housing area.

the netflix show is playing on the television, the faint voices of the characters playing in the background. you’re sitting on the floor, flipping through the photo journal you two decorated throughout your one year of relationship. you can see his little scribbles and doodles, often a little dinosaur symbolising your always grumpy personality.

in one photo, a golden birthday hat is nicely placed on your head with him kissing your right cheek. you remember clearly, a surprise party for you last year. in the following ones, they are mostly candid shots - you blowing out the candles while he looks at you full of love, him eating a portion of your dish while you pout your lips. you would say it was the night of your life, spending it with the guy who stole your heart.

the next page of the journal is a shot of mark taking a photo of you in the park. you suppose it was taken by donghyuck? that one picture of you was stuck as his lock screen wallpaper for a while, you remembered getting so embarrassed over it. mark would give you the same excuse every time you questioned him about it, implying that the sight of you would light up his whole day. cheesy really, but that was what remained as memories of the past, tied neatly in your heart.

the rain trickling against your window eventually made you doze off to wonderland, creating the perfect chance for mark to browse through the journal in your hands. carefully lifting it from yours so that you won’t be stirred from your sleep, he settled down in the space beside your sleeping figure. slowly turning the pages, he smiled fondly at each photo holding a thousand moments that can’t be recreated ever again. some of them would make him giggle. he kneeled down slightly to place a soft kiss on your forehead, making you squirm a little due to the faint touch.

“give him a chance. i’m not saying that you should forget mark but it’s been months, you should live up a little,” yerim’s voice sounding concerned from the other end of the line. perhaps she’s right but you just need more time. but how much longer? you’re afraid you yourself have no specific answer for that enquiry.

you’ve been feeling better by now, welcoming people back into your life and carrying out the same daily routine of yours. going to work, buying groceries, going to the drive-thru and whatnot. of course, the void is still obvious - coming back home to an empty atmosphere instead of him waiting for you on the couch, sometimes dozing off, no more weekend cafe runs. but at least you’re trying your best. you bid your goodbyes before tapping the red button, ending the call. plopping the device onto the mattress, you stared at the white ceiling, deep in your own thoughts.

you should give him a chance. live up a little.

yes, you should.

getting hold of the phone and immediately opening the messages app, you searched for jungwoo’s number. he’s been trying to take you out for dinner for a while now. you still remember his exact words, whenever you’re ready he’s always there, waiting for you. you’re not really sure about that particular question but it wouldn't hurt to give it a try, right?

typing in the words ‘okay, sure’ is already a pressure for you but you still proceeded to press the send button. glancing at the clock showing the time, the notification ping redirected your focus onto the screen.

jungwoo: cool, is tomorrow night okay with you? i’ll drive, of course :)

tomorrow night. okay, tomorrow night.

an elegant red gown is wrapping your curves perfectly, a thin necklace with the seashell charm around your neck while your lips is decorated with the dark red tone, highlighting your poise appearance. hearing the doorbell ring, you tidied up the dresser as your eyes landed onto the picture frame holding a photo of you and mark. a sad feeling crept into your heart but you pushed it away, opening the door to reveal jungwoo in a black and white tuxedo.

you would say that the dinner went well, none of his questions or chatters crossing any borderline. he’s just so polite, even you are amused. feeling comfortable with his presence, the small gap in between is eventually closing down since you’ve learned so much about each other during the other few dates. one night completely changed it for you, him offering you a dance at some event he’s bringing you with.

you observed that his moves are slightly similar to mark’s - not completely of course, mark’s is very unique and very…mark-ish. for the first time ever in the recent turn of events, you flashed a genuine smile. one that is not just for show, one that only comes out when you’re truly elated, one that you only manage to give to certain. mark just observed the scene from a distance, admiring how you’ve managed to find the spark of happiness you once lost.

alas, mark saw his other half become full again with another, her eyes twinkling with the same joy but this time, it’s not him in the reflection.

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satorinnie · 4 years ago

Text

[ 6:00 PM ]

suna rintarou x reader

inspired by this tiktok

it was six pm when you came home from work. your friend was absent today so all her workload was given to you and it tired you out a lot. you weren’t some big shot person like your boyfriend who was a volleyball star, rather, you worked in the sports column of a newspaper, and since your friend was absent, you had to look over her parts as well. they weren’t your area of expertise so it took a lot of your time and all you wanted to do was get in your comfy clothes and cuddle with your boyfriend suna in bed.

so when you entered your room you were surprised to see that suna was missing. he would always be waiting in bed for you on fridays because he got to leave his practices early and wanted to spend more time with you. shrugging it off you made your way to the closet and picked out your sweatpants and one of suna’s t-shirts. you loved the way they fit on you and his imbedded smell on them always managed to calm you down.

getting ready you walked back down to search for suna. seeing as he wasn’t in the kitchen nor the living room, you made your way to the garden only to find him lazily laying on the couch with his phone in his hand. smiling at the view you slowly walked near him and made your place on his lap, snuggling your face in his neck, “i missed you rin.” your voice came out muffled.

you felt his lips make contact with your neck as he laid butterfly kisses on the area murmuring a soft “welcome home.” his one arm keeping you in place tightly as the other continued to hold his phone.

“how was your day—hey i’ll close this live if i see one more comment about her you fuckers.” his question was cut off with him complaining about the comments made on you in his live. you hadn’t realized he was on instagram livestream and your cheeks flushed red at the though of people seeing you like this. but then you remembered the comments and paused, you knew what kind of things they said about you.

how he deserved someone better and how you were an unimportant person. how famous models would comment at his pictures about treating him better. at first it hurt you; you let your insecurities get the best of you at some point and told suna about everything about to break up with him. but that day he assured a million times how you were the only girl his eyes saw and that the haters could screw off it they wanted. that night he held you closely as your let the tears fall from your eyes.

but now you were confident. with suna’s reassurance you learned to not heed attention to the comments and ignore them. you realized; they were just jealous of what they couldn’t have, and that was not your problem at all. “it’s alright rin.” you whispered into his ear. about to open his mouth to rebuttal, you cut him off.

“i am fully aware of what you all say about me.” you fully turned around to face the camera, taking the phone from suna’s hand and holding it in yours. “but i don’t give a fuck.” you deadpanned. leaning against suna’s chest, you continued, “because at the end of the day, im the one who gets to sit on his lap. and im the one who he fucks every night he comes home. it’s okay to be jealous. i would be too.” you smiled.

suna’s eyes were on you the entire time, first widened with shock, proud of the confidence you gained, but with each sentence something in him stirred. and as his eyes began to slowly trail down your face to his shirt you were wearing, he took the phone back from you and ended the livestream.

face flushed in realization of what you did, you tried to cover you face, “i—i’m sorry rin. i don’t know what came over me i hope that doesn’t ruin anything—“ he cut you off with an intense kiss while he dropped his phone to cup your face with both hands.

you immediately responded back with the same energy and let your hands find their places in hair as you tugged it roughly to press yourself closer to him. you weren’t expecting him to hold your thighs with his hands as he lifted you up; your legs latching themselves around his hip. breaking the kiss to look at you he smirked, “why don’t we go to the bedroom y/n. after all we didn’t have our daily run did we.”

face now beet red you slapped his chest and hid your face against his neck, his laugh like melodies in your ears as you relished the moment. he continued his way to the bedroom with your body around his like a koala. laying you against the bed, he took his shirt off while looking down at you, “now c’mon you weren’t shy back there, no need to be shy now bunny.”

#suna smut #suna fluff #suna scenarios #suna imagins #zey’s timestamps #zey’s drabbles #suna x y/n #suna x you #suna x reader #suna rintaro x y/n #suna rintarou x reader #suna rintarou #hq suna #THIS IS MY FIRST TIME DOING SOMETHING LIKE THIS #suna brainrot

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jjkpls · 4 years ago

Text

the wishlist (m) - 5

“She broke up with me.”

> genre : Angst, fluff

> pairing : jeon jungkook x reader (f)

> words : 4k

> content/warnings : back at it again w/ the bff2l; one sided love, lot of pining; explicit language; ambiguous infidelity; jjk heartbroken & crying; some wholesome flashbacks to make you swoon

previous - next

The next box arrives about a month or so later. You haven’t seen Jungkook in a while. He had been out of town, hopping from shop to shop, completing a series of long-awaited guest positions.

He’s kept you up with his days and his appointments as much as he could, sending you dorky selfies, little videos of city landscapes you’ve never seen before, and exhausted late vocal notes made in tiny, with dragged on, mumbled words, to wish you luck and send you some courage for work.

You did not expect that the day you’ll meet again, he’d be so different from the Jungkook you prefer and left a month ago.

It takes you a few seconds to realize. At first, you’re preoccupied with the sudden set of needles stinging your insides when you hear the peculiar sound of your front door being unlocked. There’s a very finite amount of probability that it’s not him, he's the rudest of your tiny group of friends and the only one that feels comfortable enough in your home to invite himself without any prior warning.

It’s him, your best friend and subject of too many of your both daily and nightly thoughts and preoccupations.

Once he appears in the door frame, with his heavy coat on his heavy XXL sweatshirt, in his heavy military pants, face turned down hidden by his hair, the magic thing, that grows so mysteriously quick. There’s the little explosion of warmth in your chest. The one that makes you smile tenderly without meaning to. He’s allowed to see how happy he makes you, as a friend anyway. Everybody smiles this way when he walks into a room.

Your eyes catch sight of a box, all white, that fits in his hand. Your eyes roll on reflex. You’re about to curse again. It’s not nice, you don’t want to, to attack him as soon as he returns to you but he’s asking for it, isn't he?

He’s still in the hallway, slowly slipping his shoes off, focus fixed on the present in his hand. The time he takes doing it and the seemingly seriousness you feel irradiating from his aura, confuse you.

Jungkook shakes his head twice, the way he does, kind of like a wet puppy would, before setting the box on the counter of your open kitchen.

It’s only when he starts walking towards you, that his head raises up, just a bit, enough for his eyes to meet yours through his hair. He has a tiny smile as a greeting. He looks really upset.

He should be bouncing on the balls of his feet, he should be doing some TikTok cringe dance moves to make you laugh or yell some greetings in a dialect. He has a lot of peculiar, very Jungkook ways to celebrate meeting you again after a while. Even if neither of you has ever said the words, you do miss each other a lot when you can’t see each other, and the excitement that blooms during your reunions translates that.

But he’s sad today. It’s obvious.

When he takes a seat beside you on the couch, he avoids your gaze. You’re agape, watching him with probably too much insistence, a hand holding a spoon half-filled with yoghurt in the air.

These few moments are decisive. They’ll determine rather he’ll talk or not. Jungkook, for someone who cries easily, is not good with feelings and sharing them aloud. Sometimes he can, often he can’t. He’s told you not to worry about it before, that it was fine because sometimes he just didn’t need to, he just wanted a shoulder to lay his head-on.

“You okay, Guk?”

He shrugs. You just have the time to catch his upper lip sucked in, a twinkle in his eye before he’s switching position, bumping into you and hitting his own shin against the coffee table like a giant dog, unaware of his own growth, would. Only to settle for an impressively tiny huddle against your side, cheek pressed to your shoulder.

So that’s how it’ll be.

It’s heartbreaking, torturesome. You always feel miserable when you know he’s sad but not knowing the reason makes it a thousand times worse. You might be the same vengeful kid you used to be. The one who’ll inquire straight away who made him cry and immediately went on her way to beat that reason up -it being another child or the troll of a tree that made him trip.

Except you are grown-ups now. He knows he can deal with his problems on his own and he would probably not let you go and try to beat up everyone -he probably doesn’t believe you can too, even though he’d be wrong about that.

Jungkook tears his hand out of his pocket only to mime you to turn up the volume of the television. You do so and the pretty hand is gone and if it wasn’t for his quiet sniffling and the heavy press on your side, you wouldn’t know he’s really here with you at all.

Your heart hurts the whole duration of the shitty afternoon movie, even if having his warmth next to you helps a little. He leaves later the way he entered, mostly silently, only smiling a bit when you smooch the side of his head and squeeze his forearm in a wordless comforting effort.

Guk

Sorry for earlier

Guk

It was nice seeing you though

You

Don’t be sorry. Can you call?

Guk

Yes, in 5

The five minutes turn out to be twenty. You wonder, hoping to be wrong, how numerous those tears were that he needed twenty minutes to dry them.

When he finally calls, voice quiet and throat dry, whispering through the phone straight in your ear, uneasiness settles deep and heavy in your stomach as you know, you were right.

“What happened, Jungkook?”

He must not have heard you this soft and gentle for a while because you can hear a humourless chuckle you recognize as incredulity. He clears his throat a first time, inhales deep and has to clear it a second time before he can start, still choking out on a syllable or two.

“She broke up with me.”

The gasp that escapes you, loud and obnoxious, could not have been faked. This news is hardly believable to you. First of all, because, to your greatest guilty despair, Jungkook and his girlfriend, who’ve been dating for almost a year, are probably the embodiment of The Power Couple. There’s no doubt, in all the people that know them, that they are meant to be. They look good together. They are on the same page, always, it seems. They’re beautiful and enviable, an example of a match from Heaven, healthy and aesthetic if that's even a mentionable point.

You can’t, even in your deepest, darkest fantasies, have imagined them to break up.

But the thing that makes it all the harder to comprehend is that she is the one who did it. The girl is great. She’s beautiful, she’s smart and funny, so you heard. She has that glamour to her, with her dainty pretty milky hands and long thin milky neck, with her silky, shiny black locks wondrously floating over her shoulders. She is great, matches him well.

She is not that far behind him but she's still not Jeon-Jungkook-great.

How could she have broken up with him? Someone dumping him makes no sense to you.

“That’s-“ You catch yourself before the words slip out clumsily. You’ve never really been talented at comforting people with words, especially a crying Jungkook which is the equivalent of your very own kryptonite. “I’m so sorry, Jungkook.” And you mean it. Even more so when you hear him snivel hard. You’ve never allowed yourself to, even just for yourself, in the quiet and discreet comfort of your own head, wish for that to happen. Because if there’s one thing that you want more than anything else, more than having him for yourself, more than your own fulfilment, it’s his happiness. And he was happy with Jiyeun. He’s got the girl he had a crush on for months and they went so well together. “But why? Did she give you a reason?”

You hate how eager you sound asking. The question is so pressing though. You wish to know so bad why, in what circumstances, Jeon Jungkook gets dumped.

“She-“ There’s a sob he swallows back. “I know what you’ll say,” Your eyebrows dip low on reflex. You couldn’t imagine the reason. He must have really fucked up but Jungkook is not the kind to fuck up. Even when he’s annoying, even when his mindset on something turns a bit auto-centric, he’s too compassionate, he’s too considerate and loving, to suddenly stop wondering how the person facing him is feeling and act without care, hurt them, in any way. It’s just not his kind. So what did he do that even you’ll have a word to say about it. “Spare me because she’s done enough.”

It takes another set of minutes for him to gather himself, find most of his voice back clear enough for you to decipher. You show yourself patient, not saying anything and leaving him all the time that he needs. In all honesty, in the darkness of your curtain closed bedroom, tucked comfortably in your mountain of pillows and blankets, with your phone stuck to your ear and just the quiet sound of his breathing and humming to himself to break the silence, but rock it rather than disturb it, it’s easy to be patient. Feels like an ASMR. A class A type of ASMR, his breathing to your ear could so easily lead you to sleep.

“Yesterday, she came to welcome me back and-“ Rather than hurt, his tone sounds weakened by shame now. What the hell did he do? “She found the- the thing I brought for you today.”

The fucking idiot.

“Oh my God.” You feel instant nausea. It's not like you never thought about it. You wondered, multiple times, if she was aware that her boyfriend was buying you these. You never allowed dipping far in the questioning because what would be the point? Ultimately, it's his relationship. And it's his way of shaping your friendship. If she kept smiling pleasantly, asking politely, as she always would, how you're doing whenever you happened to cross her path, leaving his apartment, or visiting his shop, it was fine by you. It must have been fine by her. She might have known about it, or she might not, didn't really matter. Jeon Jungkook is a grown-ass man, who's allowed to make his own decisions, no matter if they make sense to you, or her, or whoever.

But he's a fucking idiot.

If she didn't know, if he didn't warn her, and now she's mad after learning about it, and he's surprised and he's sad then he's a fucking idiot.

“She asked if it was for her, I wasn’t gonna lie!” Fantastic. He's passed the shock, soaked in wrath now. That was quick.

"For fuck's sake, Jungkook!"

"What?" He sounds a bit hysterical on the phone, voice rough and angry, incredulous, even mad that you might suggest he's wrong. Obviously, he already knew you'd react this way, hence the primary warning. "You're my best friend. I get to gift you whatever the fuck I want." He whisper-yells, suddenly very much aware again of the late time and the quiet calmness he'd perturbed. "She-"

"I don't think that's the issue, is it? Did she- Did you tell her that- Like, nothing was up?" You don't know how to articulate what you mean to ask. It sounds so bizarre, so irrealistic, the idea of something romantic or sexual going on between you two. It sounds so ludicrous you can't even say it. And again, you're scared to say the words. You don't know how they'll sound leaving your mouth. Suspicious, maybe revealing.

You owe to ask the question though. Because the cause of the sudden nausea comes from one surprisingly major reason, you would hate for her to hate you. To think of you as the bad guy, the massive bitch who stole her boyfriend. It shouldn't matter but it does.

"What do you mean?"

"That it was just friendly. Did you say that to her?" You stutter, largely on edge.

"Of course, I did." He doesn't seem to notice. Or to pay attention to the, evident to your ear, change in your tone. "She said that it didn't matter." You bite your tongue, along with the couple of words threatening to slide off it. Quite frankly, Jungkook is a weirdo with his own intake on the world surrounding him, she chose to date that special, in a lot of different ways, one, however, you can fairly understand that she wouldn't accept any explanation, of any kind, for this situation. "Do you get that? If she thought I was cheating, I'd understand that she'd be mad but- it's not even the case!"

You try to focus on the essence of the conversation, annihilate the faint words you can read in between the lines. The ones that say that even his girlfriend, in those strange circumstances, couldn't imagine the two of you as more than friends. Just as he couldn't. Just as you can't either.

"She knows and she's still mad. But- I do- I was just curious about it."

"About what?"

"The toys." He pouts, barely articulate like the kid he really is.

"Why didn't you get them for her, then? She's your girlfriend."

There's a pause after your words coming from him.

"She hates those." The pout sounds so thick now, in between the sniffs, you wonder if his mouth won't stay stuck in this position, like a cute permanent raspberry on his cute little dumb face. "I did once and she- threw it in my face and called me a freak."

"Jungkook." You sigh. "That explains a lot, by the way." This comment might be mainly for yourself. He doesn't need an explanation, as it seems. He doesn't seem that troubled about the whole deal, about that new hobby he's picked for himself. But you did. It's hard to simply content yourself with a "well, it is what it is" and nothing more.

He's been curious about them, couldn't buy them for Jiyeun because she wouldn't use them and make him feel guilty about his interest. He's sort of living it by procuration this way.

Now you feel guilty. He can't have found much satisfaction from your reviews if you ever have given him any. And she called him a freak. What a bitch. You wouldn't have imagined that coming from her.

Your mind is a mess.

"And it makes you happy. I see the way-" You hear the friction of tissues, the squeaking of his bed, and the deep sigh that follows when, as you picture, he finds a comfortable position on his back. "You seem much better. Less stressed and-" You cannot deny that. Even though it's partially frustrating, to think that he has this very unpleasant picture of you, of the version of you preceding the very first orgasm brought by him - sort of. You are feeling considerably better. Even if you have to force yourself not to abuse the masturbatory habits, not wishing to turn into a jerk off crazed teen like you once was when your hormones were fucking you up, it helps a lot. Sometimes it's a late-night quickie, other times a longer seance to celebrate the start of the weekend, or find force for the beginning of a new week.

"What was that again? Youthful?" You wonder aloud, an annoyingly amused smile on your face.

"Rejuvenated." He's laughing a bit. And for that, all the turmoil he's been putting you through feels fine and worth it. When you think about the heartbreaking tone of his voice when you first heard it through the phone, it eases an incredibly heavyweight to your heart, enchants you to know that he can still laugh, and you can still be the one reminding him how to. Unfortunately, his heart's just recalled how to hurt and the ache is back as quick as it pretended to leave an instant ago. "She said to never call her again." He confides with a hearable sorrow.

"She didn't mean it." It's surprisingly easy to be a good friend to him. The words you know he needs to hear not even hurting that bad.

"I don't know. We never fought like that before."

"Of course, you didn't. But it's been a year, it ought to happen at some point."

"But if she won't even let me talk to her, how am I supposed to make it better?"

"Be patient and leave her time to cool down." He sighs, already defeated. "Maybe send her a vocal note, she'll listen when she's ready.” They're awfully nice when he sends some to you. “It'll be fine." You're made to be together, probably, you should add. You could add, it might help him immensely, to dry the tears you can picture filling up his eyes. It's a little too much though. You're not that strong of a masochist to force this on you.

"How do you know that?"

"I just do. Don't worry too much." He can't. His heavy silence precisely screams that. "Do you wanna come to my island? I'll let you run in my flowers if you want."

It makes him laugh once again. The lovely, most satisfying sound to your ear.

"That's sweet of you." And it is, extremely sweet of you. If there's one thing that you despise is him sprinting through the mindfully planted flower beds of your Animal Crossing island. It pisses you off. Even more so when he does it by accident than on purpose, because this shit happens way too often. And now, you're allowing him to do so. You're definitely too good at being his friend. "It's fine though. Turnips sell at 138 on mine if you're interested."

It's your turn to be laughing now. You love how even with his heartbroken, upset and crying, he still picks up his Switch to check where's the turnips' stock at.

"Jungkook." I adore you.

You have for seemingly ever. Since the very first time you met.

You'd never forget it. How you almost passed out from laughing because of the street sign that nearly knocked him unconscious. His forehead was already bruising dark, eyes unfocused and shiny with tears. You didn't mean to laugh but he was adorable and funny, and even if you felt guilty for enjoying it, people don't run their faces into street signs every day. You called it in your own head a miracle.

He had to sit for a little while from how dizzy he felt. His ears were burning with embarrassment too, your uncontrollable giggling not helping. He just sat there, on a bench you had dragged him to, hands tucked in the pocket of his sweatshirt, waiting for you to allow him to leave.

The kid stood unbalanced the four times he tried to walk and even if at eleven, you had nothing close to a doctoral degree, you still felt like it was wrong to just let him stumble his way back home straight away. You had to hold him hostage for a little while. You had shared your homemade cookies with him, the ones you hid deep in your bag for you didn't want anyone to ask for a bite at school. You made him drink the whole content of your water bottle because drinking water is never an unhealthy thing to do, therefore, it felt like a good idea.

He was so shy that your own timidness quieted down enough to allow you to make conversation to him. Or more accurately talk over the silence and distract him. He giggled a lot and smiled with cute bunny teeth. Kept saying thank you for every bit of cookies you'd given him and once you had walked him home and he arrived safe and sound, he bowed very low, apologized and thanked you again.

You thought it'd be the end of it. He pretended to be going to the same school as you but you had never seen him also he was a few years younger.

The next day, and every single day after that, at recess, he would appear out of nowhere. Wearing his adorable smile, and a tint of red on his ears, a bunch of homemade cookies of his own filling up his pockets. As a puppy would, he'd follow you around with a certain distance until you waved him over, rolling your eyes, because if he was going to stick by your side, he might as well actually play with you.

The most precious friendship you have ever experienced bloomed from this seed. A friendship, at the start, mainly based on a shared interest for very sugary treats, marbles, and that common memory of him eating shit in this street sign. You didn't mean to remind him, it made him flush furiously each time and you were not that cruel, but you couldn't help bursting out in laughter whenever you'd walk home -with him or alone- and pass that sign. It's your favourite spot in your home town. You never miss an occasion to take a selfie for him whenever you go to visit your parents.

It's hard to define the moment your feelings, once purely platonic, changed. But there's a memory that feels notably significant.

A guy made you fall. A useless asshole, who in retrospect was not even worth a single crumble of your time. You were confused. As you often get, without really knowing why. Maybe it's just you, maybe it's for everyone the same. People start by being too good in your eyes, too good for you not to give them your all, and maybe build pyramides upon pyramides of expectations.

Until they're not anymore.

Suddenly, they hurt your feelings. They suck ass and you felt so invested emotionally, way too invested for it to be any kind of healthy, and their very human selves harm you straight in the heart, where it is the most painful.

It didn't feel like a mistake this time. Like any of the other times, at the beginning, of course, otherwise, it wouldn't catch you again and again.

You fell hard and it's Jungkook who picked you up. He had cooked for you, one of his mother's infamous recipes because he knew you wouldn't even bother eating otherwise. He had held you close. He had kissed the top of your head, your cheeks and your eyelids when a diehard tear had slipped. He had called you baby and sunshine and his little kitten. Had showered you in an unfamiliar type of loving. Something so soft, so tender and warm. Hands firm when they'd wrapped around you and pulled you in. Fingers gentle when they'd brush the hair out of your face. He took care of you, made you feel good in ways no one has ever had. You had not known him to be like that. Suddenly, he really felt like a man when he touched you, when he talked to you. He wasn't only a dorky little overgrown baby anymore. He was a man, shaped like one but also able to act like one. Able to take care of a woman, please one you were sure of it. And suddenly, you wanted, so desperately, to be that woman. To have the same free access you had on his usual candid-self, on this newly met man.

Of course, it's too ludicrous for you to ever act on it. But deep down, a naive tiny voice kept claiming, in the back of your mind, that you could spoil him. Very few people in this world know him the way you do, surely, no one can please him the way you could.

Guk

She listened to my note!!!

Guk

She said she'll make me miss her a bit more and then she'll call

It took less than a day for her to give him a sign. You're not surprised. It's hard not to miss him. You're not surprised but somehow, still, disappointed.

A/N: tadam!! i needed to include some flashbacks because i know my fellow f2l addicts just adore these, also, i just can’t get over writing kookie as a cute kid.

Guess what guys? there is only one chapter to go *sweats profusely* I- am worried. I hope you keep enjoying it and will enjoy the rest. :] For now, let me know your thoughts. I hope you have a sweet, lazy Sunday and wish you a lovely, peacful week! bises!

As always please ask to be tagged for the final chapter on this post

#btswriterscollective #networkbangtan #ggukienet #bts smut #bts fanfic #bts angst #bts fluff #jungkook angst #jungkook smut #jungkook fluff #jungkook fanfic #my writing

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sneezefiction · 4 years ago

Text

answers

oikawa x reader

desc: oikawa changes some lyrics in taylor swift’s song “love story”

a/n: please keep in mind that most of this is just humorous & there’s no serious characterization in this particular story. i laughed a lot while writing it :,,) for @cutiekawa because you gave me the idea; thank you for that! and also for @seroto-rin because this is very similar to your husband’s lyric changing habits lol – i still laugh whenever i think about it <3 warnings: language, mentions drinking/being drunk

wc: 3k

— It’s 2 am when you hear Oikawa pattering down the hallway and past your room. From the gentle footsteps and the occasional whisper of “shit” when the floor creaks, it's obvious that he’s trying to stay quiet.

But his attempts are in vain because, one, you’re wide awake and, two, he’s just knocked over an empty beer can from earlier. It was probably the one he’d left on the hall table – you’d told him to throw it away but he’d refused saying that he’d “throw it away in the morning when his arms weren’t so tired.”

This is just karma.

The clatter of the aluminum on wooden floors echoes throughout the dorm. A much louder, especially frustrated, “fuck” follows right after it.

The word, though crass, sounds deceptively attractive on his tongue. But most things Oikawa-related just happen to be attractive.

You muffle your laughter with a blanket. He’s probably disoriented from the alcohol – it’s only been an hour and 5 drinks each since you both called it a night. You’d headed straight to bed but he’d fallen asleep on the couch where you left him, hair a-mess and lips parted.

But, for someone who used to stay out till daybreak on weekends, he’s spent most Fridays hanging out with you instead.

This weekend was no different.

Oikawa ordered Thai takeout, you found a mindless Netflix series to binge, both of you had a little too much to drink, laughter ensued, the doe-eyed boy found his head in your lap, and…

You pull a face – one that goes unseen because of the dark, but you make it anyway.

Okay, that last part was a little different.

He’d had his head in your lap.

His head… in your… lap.

And, if you’re not mistaken (or delirious), you’d had your hands in his hair, twirling strands and tracing circles at the base of his neck. A foggy image of him gazing up at you with softened eyes, deep chocolate in color, begins to solidify.

That lazy smile, a hand on your thigh, tresses tickling your skin...

You turn over in your bed, bunching up your sheets and holding them close to you like a shield of fabric — a flimsy, make-shift defense against tipsy mind-wandering. It isn’t very effective.

Your brain is not wandering but racing around this hand-in-hair realization.

Like an iron rod poking at hot embers, these prodding memories make your cheeks grow hotter by the millisecond. You bury your face in your pillow, embarrassment tight in your throat.

Somehow you’d forgotten that he’d practically climbed into your lap. You’re not in the clear quite yet, but your brain is functioning well enough that it wishes you’d had a little more to drink – just enough to forget about it entirely. You starfish out on your bed, arms and legs dramatically splayed across the mattress.

Do (hot, charming, charismatic, windswept) flatmates usually get this... cuddly? Is that normal?

Does Iwaizumi wrap his arms around his roomies after a long day and a few bottles? How about Mattsun? Makki…?

Okay, no, none of them really seem like the type to get up close and personal with their roommates without good reason. Well, maybe Makki, but he’d do it to be a pain in the ass – not to charm the living-hell out of someone.

You try to take in a deep breath and wrap your head around what this means for you… but end up inhaling a feather from your pillow instead. As you hack and cough, you try to smother the noise in more cloth material – you really didn’t need him coming into your room, much less leaning over your bed to check on you.

Oikawa is messing with your head.

If you knew any better, you’d have run away screaming the moment he’d asked you to room with him. No one that pretty and charismatic is good news. At least, not when it comes to shared housing.

But, here you are, writhing under the covers and hot like a fever all because he couldn’t keep to himself. Screw him and his charming smile for putting you in this position.

He either knows you’re crushing like he’s the last man on earth or he’s blissfully unaware and way too physically affectionate for his own good.

You don’t dare consider that he likes you back though. Only deer and Olympic athletes made leaps like that. Oikawa had too many admirers… an irritating amount.

The blankets scrunch even tighter between your fists, likely thanking their maker that they don’t have nerve endings.

Every fiber of your being is begging to know if these feelings are reciprocated. You’d hate to live out the rest of this semester knowing the boy down the hall may not like you back. Worse, that he finds out you think he’s hot shit and doesn’t like you back – that would be unrequited love at its finest.

But, with a degree and your mental health on the line, why should you care about such minor, itty bitty, pointless details.

This isn’t that big a deal.

And even if he did like you back? Well, Oikawa isn’t someone you can simply “pin down.” He comes with a distinctive, dramatic personality and a meddling side. Not to mention, he’s already the embodiment of chaos – he’s proven this to be true over the past 4 months he’s lived with you.

There’s a familiar squeak of the shower faucet handle and the hiss of hot water. You jump at the sound.

Maybe he’d forgotten, but your bedroom shares a very thin wall with the bathroom. Though you recall him saying he wanted to take a shower earlier, so you guess that he’s only just remembered.

You pick up your phone, blue light casting a less-than angelic glow on your sleepy face. You pray that TikTok will have some sort of life-changing “I’m in love with my hot, crazy flatmate” advice. Or that it will distract you from your inner turmoil. Either would be appreciated but the latter seems more likely.

Scrolling slowly, you get through about 3 videos before something else catches your attention.

There’s a deep reverberation buzzing through your wall. A gentle hum, much like a shower-concert lullaby.

But the noise is getting louder. And the humming? A lot more lyrical.

You shift into a sitting position, propping yourself up with your hands. With your side sunken into a pillow, you press your ear against the cool drywall. Your ears tune into the sound.

Oikawa, voice confident and free, is… singing.

“...But you were everything to me, I was begging you ‘please don’t go’…”

But he’s not just singing.

“And I said…”

He’s belting Taylor Swift with the enthusiasm of an 11-year-old Swiftie super-fan. Like the world would end if he didn’t put enough passion into this performance. Like the showerhead is his microphone and the surrounding tiles are his adoring audience.

“Romeo, take me somewhere we can be alone. I'll be waiting; all that's left to do is run...”

Most people would be pissed if their friend were singing in the shower at 2 am… but you can’t find it in yourself to be anything but enamored.

God, you hate him for doing this right now. Hate that he’s inadvertently endearing you to him. Hate that, no matter what you do, he’s somehow always there.

Pressed up against you on the couch, meeting you for dinner at his favorite restaurant, fussing at each other over a shitty cup of coffee in your even shittier kitchen, calling you when he needs somebody to keep him company at the library…

“You'll be the prince & I'll be the princess…”

And now he’s accidentally serenading you with Taylor’s “Fearless” album. In the shower.

You facepalm, sinking into your hands, exasperated and just so… done.

You sink back down into the bedsheets, wishing your earbuds were nearby to drown out the regrettably adorable performance.

“It's a love story y/n, just say ‘Yes.’”

And your heart drops, panic setting in like the touch down of a whirling tornado. A fire tornado. A fire tornado with frogs and lizards and sharp objects spinning around inside of it.

What… did he just say?

The lyrics… they were muffled. You definitely heard them incorrectly. You… you just need to get your ears checked. Yes, that’s it. That’s all there is to it. You’ll schedule an appointment first thing tomorrow morning.

Because who the fuck sings like that at 2 am in a shared dorm? And who the fuck puts someone else’s name into a song like that? No one? Yes, no one.

Especially not the Oikawa Tooru.

And especially not with your name.

Because that’s just... weird.

The grip on your phone is mighty – thank God for durable glass because any other material would’ve splintered or shattered in your hold.

But what the hell.

“Y/n, save me, I've been feeling so alone,” he sings as though he were Beyoncé’s son.

This time it’s clear as day. Oikawa is definitely still out of it and he’s undoubtedly singing your name.

No, no, no.

“I keep waiting for you but you never come…”

You bolt out of bed, feet hitting the floor at lightning-strike speed.

“Is this in my head? I don't know what to think,”

In one swift movement, you fling the bedroom door open and rush down the hall. You shouldn’t be listening to this.

“He knelt to the ground & pulled out a ring, and said...”

And before you can stop your hand, it’s knocking rapidly on the bathroom door.

There’s a gasp, what you assume to a bar of soap hitting the shower floor, and an abrupt silence that follows.

You’d only wanted to stop him from singing.

However, you hadn’t thought through what you were going to say to him about this whole... lyrical mess. Your face feels like the surface of the sun, burning and flaring and flushing. What are you supposed to do now?

Oikawa speaks up, voice quiet, “Hello?”

Shit.

Maybe if you’re careful you can get yourself out of this. Just act like you didn’t hear anything and bring it up tomorrow when you’re both thinking straight. A thorough and sober discussion would be needed.

You had questions. Questions that needed answers.

Why did he have his head in your lap? Had you said anything to him that you’d regret later? Does he like you? Where should you two place your boundaries if he doesn’t like you back? And why Taylor Swift?

“Y/n, is that you?” He asks, nonchalantly.

Who else would it be?

The handle squeaks and, with that, the water stops. Only the gentle swirl of the drain and the occasional drips and drops from the showerhead are audible.

It’s too late. You’re already there. You’ve knocked and, in doing so, you’ve sealed your fate.

“...Yes,” is your whisper of a reply.

“What’s up? Was I too loud for you?”

You’ve got the entire building on high-alert singing that loudly.

...is what you would say if you weren’t currently imploding. This is like nothing you’ve ever experienced before. And nothing you ever want to experience again.

“Um, yeah, sorry.” You look down at your shuffling feet.

The hallway is pitch black, hardly allowing for even a mere shadow. Rushing out of your room, you’d forgotten to turn on even a single light.

You hear him step onto the tile floor and the rustle of a tower from the bathroom closet.

“Wait, can we talk?” He asks as though it weren’t the question of the fucking year. “I mean, preferably after I get out of the bathroom.” There’s a lack of tact to his words.

This isn’t the charming Oikawa you’re used to. This is a blunt… confusingly straightforward Oikawa.

His tone wavers like maybe he’d had a little more to drink than you’d last remembered. Your memory was proving to be disappointingly unreliable tonight.

You swallow thickly, “Sure.”

Because what else can you say?

“Can I stop by your room in a minute?”

You take a deep breath, “Yeah.”

And you patter back to your no-longer very safe haven. Oikawa is about to infiltrate your space… with your permission. And the weapons he’ll bring will either harpoon you or leave you emotionally paralyzed – whether that emotional paralysis is a good or bad thing will be decided in the near future.

Your bed, though soft and blanket-covered, looks far less appealing now. It may as well be a bed of nails because you would rather hide beneath it than sit atop it.

But you sit anyway, letting the mattress dip and the springs twang.

The bathroom door cries as it opens, putting you on edge. Your heart is pounding like a drum at a summer festival – hotter and louder with every beat.

The trod of footsteps tells you he’s approaching and, sure enough, the open door reveals Oikawa.

With only a lamp to brighten the space, he’s more contoured than usual. His hair is wet and heavy against his head, taking on an even darker brown than before. You’ve seen him fresh out of the shower before, but this… is different. Oikawa’s shirt sticks to his chest slightly – he must’ve thrown it on without drying off fully to get to you faster.

He takes a few steps into your room, choosing to lean his back against a wall next to your work desk. Oikawa brings his hands behind his back, pressing his weight into them. Brown eyes flicker from you to the wall behind you and back again.

Naturally, tension lays thick as a fog in the air space.

“Hey, I’m…”

You cut him off, “You don’t have to say sorry! It’s… it’s okay.”

Oops, you’d said that a little too loud. Not that it mattered much after Oikawa’s passionate performance.

An eyebrow raises and confusion sparks across his face. Your body freezes.

He brings a hand behind his neck. “Oh, I was just gonna say that I’m still kinda drunk.”

You knew that much. Though you really thought he’d say something other than that. Preferably something about the, uh, devoted love-song?

Why is he acting so casual right now? Is this even Tooru? Had he read too many alien conspiracies and been abducted for learning too much about extraterrestrials?

Maybe he doesn’t realize you’d even heard him say your name in the shower.

“Oh... right.” You say slowly, lips staying parted at the end of your sentence.

“Which… probably isn’t good for either of us,” Different words drawl out and there’s a soft slur to some syllables, but at least he’s easy to understand, “me drinking too much, I mean.”

“Yeah,” you mutter.

“I think we should both just go to bed then.”

Your chest tightens. Of course, you want answers.

They’re likely embarrassing, face-reddening, Taylor Swift-centric answers. But you want them, nonetheless.

Although, it’s probably for the best that you don’t bring this up tonight. It was all probably a joke or a harmless accident – and, anyway, he admitted to being drunk.

“Right.”

“But I think you should know that I like you. A lot.”

“Yeah,” you respond again, automatically.

There’s another heavy silence. The pretty boy just stares at you, cherry colors tinting his cheeks but showing no expression of fear or embarrassment. You stare back, processing his words at turtle-like speeds.

The words tumble out, “Wait, say that again?” You double back, your own face reheating to its earlier temperature.

“I’m gonna be mad at myself in the morning if I don’t leave right now. And I really need to stop listening to that stupid song,” Oikawa says to himself.

“But I wanted to see how you would respond if I changed the lyrics,” the words are pointed back at you again.

He stands up, feet moving slowly toward the doorway. Did he just… completely ignore your question?

Your jaw drops, “Did…” you can hardly speak.

Clearing your throat, you try again, focusing intently on your words, “...did you mean for me to hear you?”

“...Maybe.” He draws out the “e,” looking back at you.

That’s it. He’s lost his fucking mind. You’re going to strangle him.

No TikTok advice could have prepared you for the monstrosity that is Oikawa Tooru. How Iwaizumi put up with that... that child for all these years, you have no idea.

You have to make a note of sending him a “get well” card, because nobody could be mentally okay after dealing with him for that long.

“B- but… why? What?” You stammer out, back stiff as a board.

“You like me don’t you?” He tilts his head, hair flopping cutely with it.

You gape like a fish, mouth opening and closing.

And it’s not that you don’t want to respond.

It’s that you can’t. You have no words. You vocal chords are on a panic-induced lockdown.

Because he knew.

He knew this entire time. Which you thought he might, but that doesn’t make the situation any less infuriating.

“And I like you back.”

You’re dumbfounded. You can’t think. This is ridiculous.

You open your mouth once more but he has no intention of continuing this conversation.

“Sleep well!” Without further comment, Oikawa flashes you a sleepy smile and begins scampering back to his room after having wreaked havoc on your poor heart.

Your voice comes back just in time for you to wake up the entire building once more,

“No, you get your ass back here and explain yourself!”

#haikyuu!!#haikyuu x reader #oikawa tooru #oikawa #oikawa x reader #oikawa scenarios #oikawa imagines #seijoh #what did i just write #this is gonna go under: 'things i gave up my sleep for'#ughsjdljlds'ldsdjd #also #i dont like the term crack fic anymore? so i think just calling it humorous is... a good way to go #goodnight yall #queued up!

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princessofprocrastination · 4 years ago

Text

I Messed Up, Didn’t I? (Dream)

MASTERLIST

PART ONE!

pairing : dreamwastaken x singer!reader

summary : after the breakup, he sees that you’re growing as a singer, while he’s suffering alone, but you don’t think that about him, seeing he’s growing on youtube. (PART TWO)

a/n : aaannnddd here’s the final part!

a full year passes.

you thought the pain in your chest would leave after a while. but maybe it doesn’t work that way since clay and you were together for a couple years.

you were kept busy with the voice each week, every weekday, you were told to keep working on a new album.

but whenever you had time alone in your house, you couldn’t help but think about it all.

the cuddles on his gaming chair whenever you felt lonely at times while he played his games.

or when you’d care for him whenever he would get sick since he would act like a baby.

or that time when you both went to get fast food at 4am in the morning because you craved something that would be bad for you.

or the little banters or debates you two would have about politics.

or when he’d dive on the bed on top of you when he was in need of cuddles.

it all comes back to the reason you broke up.

you didn’t blame him. you didn’t blame yourself.

you didn’t know who to blame. you couldn’t blame the internet since you got your job from it too.

you were glad that you found a job that was your hobby. whenever you were mad or sad, you’d write it down, and send it to your team, and suddenly, it would become a song.

you are glad that you have such supportive team and found yourself amazing friends.

speaking of friends, you bought tickets for your two bestfriends to come see you and live with you for a while.

you told them that you needed the companion and that your house has too many empty guest bedrooms that are waiting for people to sleep in.

they accepted the invite and offered to buy their own tickets since you were already giving them a place to stay, but you told them you had already bought them tickets and that they didn’t have to worry about it.

you knew they could afford it, they were just too humble to say it to their fans, but you knew better.

hours before you had to pick them up from the airport, you made sure their rooms were fully ready. you picked the bedrooms most closest to yours because why not right?

what those two didn’t know was that you had bought full gaming sets for them, monitors, keyboards, a pretty nice gaming chair. it was a pretty nice gaming set up, if you say so yourself.

you bought them because you knew that those two cannot live a day without playing games or streaming.

at first, they were hesitant on coming since you told them to stay for a couple months. they both knew they had to stream and post on their channels. it’s their jobs, after all.

but you assured them that you’d find a way and to not worry about anything, and just worry about getting on that plane on time.

you saw the time, took a photo of the gaming set up as you took a photo of sapnap’s earlier and walked out of george’s room, grabbing your car keys and leaving for the airport.

you parked your car in the airport carpark and quickly went to the arrival hall to find those two crackheads.

you were almost jumping at how excited you were. you couldn’t believe that this was going to be your first time meeting them ever.

you waited at the side, making sure you still had a view of the automatic sliding doors of the arrival hall.

you heard someone calling your name from behind you. as you turn your head, you saw a masked man holding a camera that was pointed at you.

paparazzi’s can be annoying at times but you actually knew this guy pretty well and he is definitely not annoying.

“what are you doing here?” the man asked you.

“what do i look like i’m doing in front of the arrival hall, hm?” you sassed him a little, laughing towards the end of your sentence.

“okay, who are you waiting for then?” he asked again.

your phone pinged a notification from the groupchat of you, george and sapnap.

“just wait and see, they’ll come soon.” you told him, winking at the camera.

you saw the two walk out of the automatic doors and you jumped slightly on your feet, waiting for them to come closer before you could give them the biggest hug.

it didn’t take them long to spot you. you attracted a lot of attention, with the man with a very large camera next to you.

as they came closer with their noticeably large luggage, you couldn’t wait anymore, running towards them to give them a bear hug.

as you crashed into the two, they fell slightly back from the impact.

you could hear the loud camera shutters as you hug two of your bestfriends.

you three hugged for a while more before you moved off to answer some questions from the line of paparazzi’s.

you felt bad for attracting the crowd. people must be so confused on what’s happening.

you three answered some questions, until you couldn’t wait anymore, you were excited to show them their room. the anticipation was killing you.

“sorry, i think we need to go. i can’t wait to show them their rooms.” you told the line of paparazzi’s in front of you.

a string of questions came out, asking what rooms and where and why was i so excited.

“you’ll see soon, stay tuned on our social medias!” you told them before pulling your two bestfriends’ hands to walk out the airport to your car.

they said their goodbyes and walked by you to your car, confused on why you had been so excited.

george sat at the front with you, sapnap at the backseat.

“dude, you own such a cool car.” sapnap said, admiring the details of your car.

“close the door and you’ll see something cooler.” you told him.

to which he closed his side of the door and waited. he looked up onto the car roof to see that there are stars on them. they light up as the car doors were closing.

“holy shit damn.” george said, looking up as well.

as you drove back home, you three caught up with each other’s lives.

you found out that they still had been anxious about not posting anything for a couple months, but they’re happy to see you and stay with you. you smiled to yourself knowing how happy they’d be later.

“i just can’t wait to see your house, honestly.” george said, from beside you.

sapnap let out a big laugh, you and george soon following after.

you parked in front of your house’ front door while the two stared in awe that their bestfriend lives in such a house. they’d often forget that they’re friends with such a rich singer. they only saw you as their friend, not someone famous.

you laughed at the two, before exiting your car, to get their luggage from the back of the car.

while they were still looking at your house, you took their bags out one by one, carrying some into the house.

“you wanna come in or not?” you asked the two.

they snapped out of their trance, taking their bags before following you to inside the house.

“what the fuck.” “holy shit this is amazing.” were what the two said when they walked in.

“so since we’re here, let’s put your bags into your rooms before we go get food. you guys can go shower too if you want, there are bathrooms in your rooms.” you told them, excited to see their reactions of the rooms.

“there are bathrooms in our bedrooms? dude game over i’m moving in.” sapnap told you, still in awe of the house.

you lead them to one of their room, telling them which room was which behind closed doors, not opening the door yet. you told them that your room was between theirs and if they needed anything, to ask you.

you stopped at sapnap’s room, on the left of your room, and told them to wait.

“before i open this door, i just wanted to say that i appreciate you guys dropping everything to come here. so here’s a little something for you two, i definitely didn’t forget about your jobs.” you explained to the two before opening the door.

as you opened it slowly, you saw that they were confused. they still had no clue. good.

sapnap’s gaming setup lit up as you opened the door, making the room look like a tiktok room.

“holy- no way. you didn’t” sapnap said, turning to you, still in shock.

“uh yeah i did, and there’s one of george in his room too.” you told them.

“WHAT? no you didn’t.” george screamed in your ear.

“go look in your room. i’m not lying.” you told him.

he runs to open his room door, leaving his bags in front of sapnap’s room. sapnap and you followed to see his room.

as george opened his door, his room too, lit up, just like sapnap’s.

“NO FREAKING WAY.” george jumped at his position in his room, staring at his set up in awe.

“i had to, you guys dropped everything to be here. you still need to make videos. tell me what’s missing and it’ll come tomorrow.” you told the two boys, who were still in shock.

“WHAT’S MISSING?, this is more than enough, thank you!” the two said in unison before running to you to give you the biggest hug.

after that whole fiasco, the two boys got right into work with setting it up. you left them for the moment as you went to the kitchen to get dinner going.

you thought since they just reached california after a long flight, they might not have the energy to drive all the way out to get dinner, so you just settled with making them dinner.

while waiting for your pasta to cook and chicken to fry, you went on your phone.

you weren’t surprise to see people shocked to see that sapnap and george flew to meet you. your feed was filled with photos and videos of your interactions in the airport.

you smiled seeing the cute photos, screenshotting a few to post on your own instagram.

you remembered the gaming setup photos that you took. you opened instagram to post them o your instagram story, along with videos of their reactions of seeing them. only in a matter of seconds, your tagged photos sky rocketed.

now they knew that the two boys would definitely stay for longer.

dream knew what was going on. he was tagged in a lot of the photos. your fans thought he was there too, for some reason. some knew dream wasn’t there but asked why he wasn’t there.

dream was happy to see that his friends are happy with you. they might as well move in with you.

dream knows that you hated staying at home alone. maybe that’s why you called the two over to stay with you.

with the gaming setups, dream knew the two boys would stay for a while. he felt a pang in his chest.

he wanted to meet you. he wanted to make things right again. not because he saw you happy without him, not because he saw how successful you have become, not because he saw how happy you were with his friends but not him, but because he felt alone without you. he needed you.

you could hear george and sapnap screaming. you smiled, knowing that they were probably streaming or recording something, along with dream since you heard them scream “dream” a ton of times.

they had to eat lunch so you brought it upstairs to their room, knowing they won’t end their gaming anytime soon.

you knocked on sapnap’s door first. seeing as he’s not using his facecam, you walked in and put his plate of food next to his keyboard, along with a bottle of his favourite drink.

he thanked you as he told his chat what was going on. you ruffled his hair as you walk out his room, to george’s.

you didn’t bother knocking his door since you knew he was too deaf to hear it anyways. you slowly opened the door, not wanting to interrupt his stream and nicks.

he notices you coming in. “hi! come here!” he told you.

you smiled at him, walking towards his desk, with the plate of food and bottled drink in your hands.

“i just came to gave you lunch cause i know you too well.” you told him, almost sarcastically.

“awh, oh my god thank you, this looks so good.” he thanked you just like nick did.

“my chat wants to say hi.” he tells you.

knowing he has his facecam turned on, you walked to him to stand behind his chair to wave at the camera.

“so this is my favourite person in the world.” george said to his chat, pointing to you.

you blushed and put your hand up to cover your mouth at how cute that was. roll in the ship comments.

“i’m leaving you with the ship comments, gogy.” you told him as you walked to the door.

a couple more weeks go by, and the two idiots are still living with you. they actually are thinking about staying here for good. to which they asked you if that’s okay.

obviously you would let them stay here for good, you loved the company.

they were your distraction to everything going on. the heartbreak, the hurt that never left your chest. they were all still there and you didn’t know how to get rid of them. but for now, your two bestfriends were there for you.

lately you have been getting flower and chocolate arrangements to your doorstep. at first you thought it might be the boys trying to do something nice but they had told you that they wouldn’t have even thought about being that romantic.

you laughed it off and set it aside. the flowers did look good in your living room, after all. unless it was from a stalker fan, you didn’t mind it. you found it a little romantic.��

george and sapnap knew exactly what they were doing. the moment they found out your address, they sent it to dream. they knew clay deserved everything that has happened to him. but at the end of the day, he is still their friend, and they can’t abandon him.

everyday of the week. flowers arrangements came. you asked george multiple times if he knew what was going on.

he was the only recent person you remember telling your obsession of flower arrangements to.

at first, he told you he didn’t have a clue, and soon enough, he cracked. he told you he knew, but it was your task to find out who.

the first couple days of knowing that, you tried brushing it off, making yourself busy with music or cooking for the two boys. but soon enough, you couldn’t run away from it anymore. you were curious.

a full month after your first flower arrangement came to your doorstep, you heard a knock on your door. since you thought maybe you had a package, you didn’t think much of it.

you were surprised to see the person in front of your front door.

dream.

it was your ex boyfriend.

what was he doing here? you haven’t seen him in so long, that seeing him felt weird. he was on the internet but his face wasn’t plastered on his profiles.

“what are-” your question was cut off by him.

“just please listen to me first. i swear i will give you all the time in the world to talk later but please, for now, just listen to me.”

your actions stopped. it was as if your brain stopped functioning.

you hesitantly nodded to him, signaling him to continue.

“i’ve waited so long for this. i’ve stayed in that house we first shared alone while you moved here, to pursue your passion. i saw you all over the billboards, all over my phone, my computer, even the flyers outside my house had your face on it.” you laughed at the end.

“but i chose not to do anything just yet, i wanted to see you happy, happy with your career, even if it meant me not being by your side to support you. i am incredibly proud to see that you’ve grown into such an amazing and successful woman.” you goes again.

“but i don’t think i can wait any longer. everyone thinks i’ve been happy with my own life, but how can i be happy, when i still live with the guilt of taking advantage of your kindness, taking you for granted. how can i live happily with the guilt of letting you go that day?” he continues again. you try to keep your face emotionless, trying not to cry.

“i know it feels so sudden, me coming here. but i can’t live anymore not having you anymore. please, take me back?” he finishes, tears going down him cheeks.

you started to tear up, almost sobbing.

“why did it have to take this long, stupid?” you whined, running to hug him.

he moved back slightly from the impact, not expecting you to talk to him, yet touch him .

you two heard your two bestfriends come down the stairs, laughing and faking their vomits from behind your backs.

“i fucking knew it. you two are so sneaky.” you rolled your eyes.

time flies by fast. a whole year has passed. one whole year since dream knocked on your door. one whole year since he has moved in with you and the other two boys.

yes, living with three boys can be super chaotic, but you liked it. you absolutely love the joy it brings you, even if they often steal your snacks from the pantry.

oh yeah, you had to get a full gaming set up for dream too, for making him jealous with george.

#dream imagines #dream imagine #dream x reader #dreamwastaken #dream fanfic #dream team

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inskz · 4 years ago

Text

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?

470 notes · View notes

tsukishimaenthusiast · 5 years ago

Note

Oh ok! Could it be imagines with just atsumu and suna then? Thanks!!

atsumu and suna when their s/o ignores them as a prank

atsumu:

you recently saw a tiktok of a girl who secretly recorded her boyfriend for a day. the funny part was that she was purposely ignoring her boyfriend as a prank. she put together a bunch of clips of him complaining and getting sensitive from her silence. you had to try this with your boyfriend, atsumu. you were curious to see how he would react since his emotions could be all over the place.

you decided that your shenanigans will start at school since you and atsumu were in the same homeroom. every morning before classes started, he would chat with you. he always asked you if you slept well the night before and would sometimes tell you about a weird dream he had. fortunately for you, you had arrived earlier than atsumu today; you didn’t have to worry about him approaching you right away. you decided to sit at your desk and put in your earbuds. there was about ten minutes left before school actually started when atsumu finally walked in. he headed towards you with a smile. “good morning, babe. sleep well?” you just continued to stare off into space. he immediately raised an eyebrow at you, clearly not noticing your headphones. when he finally realized, he took your earbuds out. “y/nnn, stop listening to music and pay attention to me,” he whined. you stared at him and put your earbuds back in. atsumu is beyond offended by your actions. before he could say anything, the first bell rang and your teacher ordered everyone to go to their seats.

during class, atsumu sent you a text. “what’s the matter? why won’t you talk to me?” he watched you pick up your phone from the other side of the room to read the message. you read it, decided not to reply to your boyfriend, and turned your phone off. atsumu’s mouth drops open. “what the hell!?! i didn’t even do anything,” he thought to himself. you knew he was going to speak to you about this during lunch.

when lunch time came around, you grabbed your lunch and headed towards one of your friends. before you could sit down, atsumu grabbed your hand and pulled you out of the classroom to somewhere private. “what’s up with you today? is everything alright?” he looked concerned, you kind of felt bad for a second. again, you didn’t answer him. he crossed his arms and looked up at the ceiling. you could tell he was getting mad. he looked down at you and spoke up, “y/n, are you mad at me for something? can you at least me what i did? if i even did anything at all..” you shook your head. that was the last straw. “fine, be that way!”, atsumu exclaimed. if you’re being honest with yourself, you were waiting that entire time for atsumu to snap and finally raise his voice.

atsumu didn’t go up to you for the rest of the school day. you expected this from him, though. you went on with your day and went home after school. you received a text from osamu on your way home. “did sumu and you fight today? he’s acting more annoying than usual.” damn, you didn’t want your boyfriend to start acting like an ass to other people because of the joke you’re playing on him. “not necessarily a fight, but he did get upset with me. i’ve been ignoring him all day as a prank.” you waited for a reply. “oh okay.. i’m sure i’ll hear allllll about it when we get home from practice.” poor osamu, he’s going to have to deal with his brother's complaints.

it was now night time and you were finishing up some last minute homework. your phone started ringing… atsumu was facetiming you. you answered and he was laying down in bed with the phone super close to his face. you almost laughed at the view. “y/nnnn. babyyy. talk to meee.” he was whining again. you knew he missed you. “please. i’m sorry for raising my voice at you before. osamu made me realize i was wrong for that. i just didn’t understand why you were ignoring me.. i got upset.” you started giggling and atsumu sat up from his bed. “y/n,” he said sternly. you smiled when he called your name. “you didn’t do anything, i was playing a prank on you.” you said, laughing like a maniac.

“ARE YOU KID- I KNEW IT!!! GOD YOU MAKE ME SO- UGHHH!!” you started dying of laughter even more at his sudden outburst. he kept pouting at you until you stopped. “babe, i’m sorry!” now he was the one not replying. “sumu~ c’mon, babe..” atsumu let out a deep huff. “tomorrow, you better give me extra kisses. you have to make up for the pain you caused me!” you chuckled, “okay, okay. i will.” he looked content now. “okay...good…..i love you.. say it back?” god, he was annoying, but charming. “i love you, atsumu.” and with that, he hung up the call.

suna:

recently, you’ve been in the mood to play a joke on someone. it’s been awhile since your last prank and your mischievous ways have been getting the best of you. you started thinking of your next victim... and who else would be better to mess around with than your boyfriend, rintarou! he always has the most peculiar reactions. you’ve only ever pranked him once or twice before, so coming up with an idea shouldn’t be too difficult. maybe you’ll go with a classic.. ignoring him! you two have school tomorrow, maybe you’ll make it an all day type of thing.

suna was already a quiet, somewhat reserved type; you weren’t sure how affected he’d be by your prank, but you decided to go through with it anyways. who knows, maybe he’ll snap or something. he was full of surprises. you kept this thought as you made your way towards school. you weren’t in the same homeroom as suna. you’d usually see each other in the mornings before class or during lunch, but you guys weren’t attached to each other’s hips, so if you didn’t see each other at school sometimes, it wasn’t a big deal. it’s wednesday today, though. the team doesn’t have practice after school. suna always walks you home on wednesdays and you guys usually hang out for a bit.

you arrived a little late to school today, barely making it to your first class. one of your friends told you that suna was in the room earlier, looking to see if you were at school already. eventually, lunch time came around and you received a text from suna. “y/n, my love. just found out i have a meeting for volleyball right now. i might be a little late meeting you for lunch, is that okay?” you read the text message and smiled. maybe now you can properly ignore him. if it were any other day, you’d respond right away. you have read receipts on, so he knows you purposely didn’t respond back. you saw him begin to type again, but stopped. within two minutes, another text was sent. “okay well if anything, i’ll see you after school.. love you.”

you kind of figured the meeting would take up the whole period, so you weren’t expecting him to see you yet. but now, it was the end of the day. you guys have a designated meeting spot around the block from your school, but you decided to really start having fun. you waited for suna in some random area within your school campus, you just wanted to be in some place where he couldn’t find you easily. your phone started ringing five minutes after school was let out but you decided not to answer and waited for a voicemail. “hey, did you leave already? you could’ve texted me or something… unless you’re hiding from me. *chuckle* call me back when you hear this message.” you sighed to yourself, suna was a smart kid. another five minutes passed and you decided to leave your current spot when heard someone running up behind you. “oh, there you are. why are you all the way over here?”, suna asked. you shrugged your shoulders as you started walking off campus. suna found it weird that you didn’t say anything, but followed behind you, nonetheless.

you two walked in silence for a bit. i mean, this is how you guys usually were, but you would’ve said something by now. instead, suna spoke up, “so how was your day?” he looked over at you just to see you looking down at your phone. “y/n??” you just simply looked at him, lips sealed, and faced forward soon after. in the corner of your eye, you saw him staring at you with a straight face. in a way, it felt like he was analyzing you, trying to figure out why you were acting so weird today. he didn’t try speaking up for the rest of the commute to your house. however, he did hold your hand, giving it an occasional squeeze every once in a while. it was a small gesture, but it made your heart swell.

when you finally arrived at your house, you both changed into some comfortable clothes and you started playing music. you began fixing your couch pillows when you felt a pair of arms wrap around your waist from behind. suna nuzzled his head in your neck and kissed you behind the ear. “why aren’t you talking to me today, my love?” suna usually wasn’t touchy like this… and his voice sounded a little deeper, too. was he upset? “it feels like.. you’re ignoring me.. are you mad? is it cause i couldn’t see you at lunch? i didn’t think it’d be that big of a deal…” after hearing that, you lightly tugged his hair and turned your head to place a soft kiss on his lips. you felt his body become less tense. “i was ignoring you as a prank.. did it work?”, you asked. “yea.. i didn’t show it but.. you really had me worried.” you smiled up at him, “sorry, rin..” suna pulled you tightly into his arms and kissed you on your forehead.

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honeymooneyy · 4 years ago

Text

remus lupin was alone

a/n: i got this idea from a tiktok talking about starting and ending a marauders fic with the same line and this was a popular comment, so I tried it:

Remus Lupin was alone.

Laughter floated down the halls of the train, muffled conversations prickling at Remus' ears, as children ran past his compartment every now and then. But his was quiet and void of any happiness as he sat there and dreaded the end of this journey. He knew he'd have to face Hogwarts at some point, but it didn't help that the full moon was barely days away and it would be his first one away from home.

First-year was definitely his least favorite; he considered not coming back between the foreign classes, sneaking around, and full moons.

He did, however, because Remus isn't a quitter.

He soon regretted that decision when he was cornered by his nosy dorm mates who had figured out what he was. He was sure he'd be expelled and never allowed back in the wizarding world. Instead, they grew closer if anything and Remus finally had friends to rely on.

This success was short-lived when he finally hit puberty in his third year and his lycanthropy only got worse. Each moon only hit him harder and soon began to affect other parts of his life, and the other boys couldn't bear to see him in this state. But it wasn't all bad, somehow Remus' growing pains and Sirius' rough home life brought them even closer.

Remus had someone who understood.

By fourth year, Remus had taken to do some self-reflecting. If his furry little problem didn't set him apart from the others enough, his unavoidable attraction to boys certainly did. While Remus had no problem with the boys' girl talks and found he did like girls very much, that wasn't all he liked. While the boys complained about a fifth-year stealing a hot girl in their year, Remus was a bit busy admiring said fifth-year, not quite sure who was more attractive.

Remus soon came to realize that it wasn't just the fact that he liked boys, but that there was a certain boy who had caught his eye. It didn't help that said boy was one of his best friends - one that he shared a dorm with.

Fifth-year was full of conflicting emotions, not entirely negative, as Remus battled his crush. How could he ignore it when Sirius was so goddamn gorgeous. How could he push his feelings away when Sirius was one of the touchiest people he knew, constantly attached to Remus, unknowing of the panic he was causing. And then there was the fact that he had become an Animagus for Remus.

Somehow, Remus had found friends that were willing to die for him.

In sixth-year, one of those friendships turned into something more, and it was the best year of Remus' life. He had an amazing boyfriend, supportive friends, and his life ahead of him. Nothing could hold Remus back.

And then there was talk of a war brewing, and Remus wanted to fight. He wasn't the only one, many seventh-years, including his best mates, were going to join the war effort. His last year of school ended before he could blink, and now the war was his life.

Every mission got them one step closer to stopping Voldemort, yet pushed him further and further away from his friends. There were times he wished for nothing more than to be an oblivious fifth year with no worries. But he told himself that it would all pay off when he could lead a safe life with his friends, one where everyone was okay.

Remus knew it was wishful thinking, but he never thought it to be impossible.

The war seemed like it would never end, and all he wished for was a miracle that could bring peace for all of them. He spent the rest of his life regretting that wish.

Because when he returned from a mission, he could care less about how the wizarding war was finally over. All he could think about was his friends, lying cold and dead in their home. How his other mate was murdered, by none other than his lover. Merlin, he couldn't even think about Sirius without spiraling.

In a matter of years, Remus lost everything that he loved about life. He lived life like it was a dream, simply moving through the motions, moving forward because he didn't know what else to do. His dream of living a life with his friends and family never fully left his head, but it didn't matter anymore.

Remus Lupin was alone.

#remus lupin #remus lupin angst #wolfstar #remus lupin x sirius black #angst #marauders angst #tiktok #marauders era #marauders #remus lupin sad #remus lupin drabble #kinda hate this lmao

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beanst0ck · 5 years ago

Text

my friend wanted the tsukishima version of this so i had to do it 🥴

pairing: tsukishima x reader

word count: 1438

cross posted on my wattpad

Kissing His Best Friend [[Tiktok Challenge]]

- the gentle wind ruffled the trees and bushes surrounding the high school of crows

- while the air outside seemed cool and fresh, the air inside the gym was hot and stuffy

- the boy’s volleyball team was practicing extra hard especially two certain first years

- halfway during practice the third years got called out of the gym by a teacher to discuss something about their grades, leaving the rest of the team to either continue practicing or take a break

- hinata and kageyama continued to practice hard while tsukki grabbed a water bottle and sat against a wall, waiting for the rest of the team to return

- out of the corner of his eye he spotted nishinoya and tanaka trying to do tiktok dances in sync and failing miserably

- tsukki knew about a lot of tiktok trends and dances thanks to his energetic teammates, but he didn’t spend most of his day mindlessly scrolling through the app

- he had things to do, like studying and watching his dinosaur documentaries, so he didn’t have time to waste doing silly tiktok trends

- snapping out of his thoughts he noticed he was in the camera’s frame and grimaced, trying to scoot away but his upperclassmen immediately noticed

- “tsukishima!! join us!!”

- “no.”

- nishinoya and tanaka pouted at their teammate’s salty behavior, but immediately brightened up noticing a certain someone walk through the gym doors

- “(y/n)!!”

- they ran past tsukki and opened their arms in hopes that they’d be able to trap you in the ultimate bear hug

- sadly for them, you dodged them just in time, leaving them to face plant onto the floor

- you slowly walked away from them and upon noticing your best friend you jogged over to him

- “tsukki!!”

- nishinoya and tanaka sniffled while patting each other’s back, knowing they’ll never be able to have you because your heart belonged to the salt shaker

- tsukishima greeted you and asked you why you were still at school even though school had already ended a few hours ago

- “the teachers wanted me to drop off papers to the captains of all the teams we have, all i need is daichi and i should be free to go!”

- “daichi isn’t here.”

- he had to hold back his laugh once he saw your reaction to the captain’s absence

- “i did not just walk across campus for daichi to not be here.”

- “hate to break it to you, but you did.”

- “tsukki! you’re supposed to be nice to me!! >:(“

- you smacked his arm and this time tsukishima couldn’t hold back a chuckle at your childish attitude

- nishinoya and tanaka’s ears perked at the sound of tsukishima’s chuckle

- they literally looked at each other like ‘ 👀 ‘

- yamaguchi, being the literal angel that he is, offers to show you where daichi is so you could deliver the packet of papers to him

- you literally go “really?🥺”

- tsukki definitely didn’t get salty, no sir he didn’t

- except that maybe he did-

- nishinoya and tanaka decide to set their unspoken plan into motion and cough to get the attention of the group

- “you know what tsukishima? why don’t you go with yamaguchi?”

- “but it’s not my job to deliver-“

- “dont disrespect your upperclassmen!! besides, (y/n)’s feet must be sore from walking around the whole day!”

- tsukki sighs, knowing that arguing with the two of them is literally impossible

- so he embarks on a mini adventure with yamaguchi to deliver some papers to daichi

- just when you’re about to tell nishinoya and tanaka that they didn’t have to do that and you were perfectly capable of delivering those papers yourself they turn to you with one of the biggest smiles you’ve ever seen

- “(y/n)! we have a plan!”

- “...ok?”

- so there you stood as nishinoya and tanaka explained their ‘ perfect plan ‘ on how you would get to kiss tsukishima

- “you’re the only one that tsukishima can tolerate enough to do this!!“

- “...you’re just using me for tiktok views aren’t you?”

- “...”

- “*sigh*”

- nonetheless you agreed because,,, who would pass up the opportunity to kiss tsukishima? exactly no one

- and if you said you would,,, no you wouldn’t stop lying to yourself

- if anything went wrong and your friendship nearly gets ruined you could blame it on nishinoya and tanaka

- so they start setting up the area

- tanaka tells hinata and kageyama to practice on the other side of the court, just incase one of kageyama’s sets goes astray and ends up hitting someone

- nishinoya and tanaka set up the phone and begin recording, not knowing when tsukishima would walk through the doors

- “what if he doesn’t catch me-“

- “don’t be so negative (y/n)!”

- you had many many doubts about this plan

- but you went along with it because you got an excuse to kiss tsukishima

- soon you heard footsteps from outside the window and signaled tanaka and nishinoya

- they gave you a thumbs up, wishing you luck and hoping that their plan wouldn’t fail because if it did you would most likely stop talking to them

- as soon as the doors opened yamaguchi and tsukishima stepped inside, now was your moment!

- “tsukki! catch me!!”

- tsukishima turned his head to the sound of your voice, his mind not registering the words you said when he saw you quickly running towards him

- when you jumped he instinctively held out his arms and caught you, almost stumbling backwards from the force

- your legs were wrapped around his waist and your hands were on his shoulders as you let out excited giggles, happy that he actually caught you

- “idiot, why’d you do that? what if i didn’t catch yo-“

- without thinking you grabbed his head and smashed your lips against his

- tsukishima, still not processing that you jumped for him to catch you, also could not process that you were kissing him

- taking his lack of response as a ‘im not kissing you back’ you slowly pulled your lips away but didn’t get the chance to as tsukishima placed his hand behind your head to kiss you back

- mind you, tsukishima was still carrying you, just with one arm bc he’s strong 🥴

- nishinoya and tanaka were hyping you up with tears in their eyes from sadness or happiness is up to you to decide

- yamaguchi was secretly recording because he wanted to have his own video proof that he was there to witness the moment

- even hinata and kageyama got distracted mid set-

- oh no

- o h n o

- hinata and kageyama got distracted mid set

- hinata was so focused on the scene that his hand unconsciously followed his eyes and he accidentally sent the ball flying towards the two of you

- just as the two of you pulled away from the kiss tsukki noticed the ball flying towards the two of you and turned his body around so it wouldn’t hit you

- instead of the ball hitting your head it ended up hitting his

- the gym remained quiet as tsukishima rubbed the back of his head in an attempt to soothe the pain of the spike

- hinata was absolutely distraught, knowing he was about to suffer the wrath of the angry salt shaker

- “tsukki!! are you ok??”

- you were quick to gently grab his head and rub the back of it, occasionally rubbing your hands through his hair in an attempt to distract him from the pain

- suddenly all the pain tsukishima felt was gone lMAO-

- tsukishima nodded and exited the gym with you

- he set you down outside and told you to wait while he went to go get his things

- all hinata got was a bonk on the head?? which was?? shocking??

- hinata mentally thanked you for soothing the salty monster’s wrath

- once tsukishima returned back to you he squatted down in front of you and you looked at him like ‘🤨’

- “what are you doing?”

- “don’t your feet hurt? hurry and hop on before i change my mind.”

- oh boY

- you were so quick to jump onto his back for a piggyback ride

- on the way home you asked tsukishima if he liked you and he literally sCOFFED

- “we kissed and you still doubt my feelings for you? do you need another one to clear your head?”

- i mean... you didn’t say no to that

- the next day nishinoya and tanaka show you the video they took

- people were fawning over how fast tsukishima was to turn his body so you wouldn’t get hurt

- tsukishima acted like he didn’t like the attention but this little shit was eating it up

- if you wanted to do more tiktoks with him involving kissing he was not going to deny you

haikyuu mlist

#haikyuu #haikyū!!#haikyuu!!#haikyuu tsukishima #hq tsukki #tsukishima x you #tsukishima imagine #tsukishima is soft for the reader #tsukishima kei #hq tsukishima #tsukishima x reader #haikyuu writers #haikyuu writing #haikyuu oneshot #bean writes

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