#i ended up w over 2k photos

[lale-txt]

❉ in a long-distance relationship ↳ w/ Nanami & Naoya (separate)

a/n: getting into my clown car because originally i was planning to write this for four characters in total, then i blinked and suddenly i had written over 2k words in headcanons and drabbles and decided to call it a day. i personally want to thank Nanami and Naoya for representing the both flawless and horrendous ends of the spectrum regarding my taste in fictional men ദ്ദി ˉ͈̀꒳ˉ͈́ )✧

contains: headcanons are sfw & gn!reader, drabbles are ns.fw & afab!reader. i'll put individual warnings before each drabble later in the text.

word count: 2.3k

❦ 𝐍𝐀𝐍𝐀𝐌𝐈

the driest texter known to man

it’s not like Nanami won’t think of you and text you throughout the day, it’s more that his texts read as if they’re coming from your tax consultant rather than from the love of your life

“Arrived at the accommodation. Room is very clean. About to head out for work, will call you later tonight. Love you, K. PS: Heard Lawson has cabbage on sale this week.”

he’s never beating the old man allegations

it’s an obstacle that yours and his work often requires you both to travel and spend time apart, but to Nanami, once committed, long distance was never a reason for things not to work out between you

he keeps his promises and calls when he said he would, he sends you flowers when he can’t bring them back home in person and he orders you food when you’re having a rough day, staying on the phone with you while you eat and letting you vent if you need to 

when he misses you (which he always does), he lets you know. no matter how far apart, Nanami would never make you doubt if you’re on his mind and in his heart 

often he’d send you photos of his lunch or local specialities, sometimes photos from the local pigeons too when they’d pick up the crumbs of his sandwich at his feet

“Those two seem inseparable. Made me think of us. Miss your voice, will call you tonight. What are you having for lunch? Careful when you cut the cabbage.”

at night, after another draining day of fighting curses, the only thing keeping Nanami going is the prospect of hearing your voice over the speaker

he will close his eyes and imagine you snuggled up in bed while talking to him, waiting for him to come home, and oh, how badly he wants to be by your side and never let you go

cw: afab!reader (no pronouns used, 'cunt' and 'pussy' used to describe genitalia), phone sex, panty sniffing, masturbation (with said panties), dirty talk, breeding kink (no mention of pregnancy or babies), mention of: brat taming, mirror sex and hair pulling

“Sorry, love. Were you asleep already?”

Nanami’s voice is quiet, almost like an apology for calling you this late. He knows you’re always staying up and fighting your sleepiness, despite him telling you not to wait for him—he’s grateful you do though, because hearing your voice is the one thing that will get him through each day, no matter how long it drags on.

“Mhm, not quite yet,” you mumble into your phone and smile at the sound of his voice. “‘m all cozy in bed though, it still smells like you. Only missing your warmth.”

Nanami laughs quietly at the other end of the line. He has no problems imagining you right now, having the big bed you bought together all for yourself but still curling up on his side of the mattress, where his scent still lingers. He hums softly.

“That was quite the surprise I found in my pocket this morning.”

You hear some rustling sounds and a pair of pants getting unzipped, and the grin on your face widens. Putting your phone on speaker, you set it down on the pillow next to you and roll over on your back, feeling more awake now.

“Well? Did you like it?”, you coo.

“Loved it.”

The panties you slipped into Nanami’s jacket before he left are now dangling from his finger in the dim light of the bedside lamp. He picked them out for you a while ago and now you were simply returning the favor, knowing how lonely it can get on a solo mission. He closes his big fist around them and brings them to his face, inhaling your musk and making him groan quietly. His cock aches in his boxers, precum staining them slightly, but he doesn’t touch himself yet.

“God, I miss you,” he mutters after catching another whiff of your worn panties. “Want to taste you so badly, love. When I get home, I’ll have you sit on my face till your legs give out.”

You chuckle at the prospect of it. Wouldn’t be the first time.

“Did you touch yourself with my panties?”, you ask in a sultry voice and you can hear Nanami growl a little at the other end of the line.

“I’m doing it right now,” he replies in a husky voice, having his bottoms hastily pulled down his thighs and now fisting his cock with your panties wrapped around it. The fabric feels soft and expensive, and the thought of how they clung to your cunt when you soaked through them has his mind spinning circles.

“Good. I want to hear you cum,” you whisper, closing your eyes for a better imagination. “Tell me what you want to do with me when you’re back home.”

Nanami pumps his fat cock with one hand, the other holding his phone to his ear. He’s sprawled out in an armchair, head in the back of his neck, his eyes shut as well. His breath comes out raggedly.

“Gonna fill your pretty little cunt to the brim,” he mumbles. “Tongue, fingers, cock. Everything. Whatever you beg for, I’ll give it to you. Gonna pump you so full of my cum, you’ll have it ruin your panties for days, but you’d like that, don’t you?”

“Fuck,” you mewl at the other end of the line, kicking back the sheets and spreading your legs to touch yourself to his words. Your fingers reached nowhere as deep as Nanami's, but it was better than nothing.

“Gonna bend you over and fuck you on every flat surface in our house,” he rasps. “In front of the big mirror too, so you can see the faces you make when you cum on my cock. Wanna feel how tight you get when you’re milking me. As if you’re trying to remember the shape of my cock forever. Made for me, only me. And if you’re gonna be a brat, which I know you will, I’ll stuff your mouth with your panties and pull your hair till I fucked some obedience into you.”

Nanami groans; he is so close. Damn, if only you were here for him to bury himself in the warmth of your cunt. Your whimpering at the other end of the line and your panties wrapped around his cock as he pumps himself are enough to send him tumbling over the edge, a supernova of pent up lust and frustration unleashing within him. The silken fabric soaks up all of his cum, sticky and hot against his skin. He made a mess, but cleaning up was for later.

“You good, love?”, he asks in a raspy voice and can’t help but smile at the sound of your heavy breathing.

“Came so hard I saw stars a little,” you confess over the speaker and snicker. You’ll definitely have to change the sheets before Nanami gets home. As if you two wouldn’t ruin them anyway.

“Good, good,” he laughs. “Now sleep, dear, I kept you up for too long. I’ll be home tomorrow night, okay? Can’t wait to kiss you.”

❦ 𝐍𝐀𝐎𝐘𝐀

Naoya hates being apart from you and he doesn’t understand why you take on missions that require you to leave the Zen’in estate aka him

in his eyes, as his spouse there’s no need for you to work at all, you should just stay at home with him or accompany him on his business trips 

he can and he will yap about this while you pack your bags, while he drives you to the train station (he insists to escort you there himself), while carrying your luggage and even between goodbye kisses. seriously, this man never learned how to shut up in his entire life

the night prior, Naoya had made sure to leave plenty of hickeys all over your body, as a reminder who you belong to 

he’s clearly bored out of his mind without you around, your phone blowing up with text and voice messages from him, demanding your unrestricted attention and getting pouty when you don’t immediately reply to him

it’s not like Naoya is jealous or worried that you’d see someone else behind his back–his ego is too big to consider this even a possibility

he’s simply the undefeated champion in the pain in the ass competition 

he’ll act nonchalant when you call him once you’re back at your hotel, trying to sound as if he wasn’t pacing restlessly around all day until his phone finally lit up with your name on display

asking you about your day comes second, first you’ll have to listen to him whining how much it sucks without you around and that this’ll be the last time that he’s allowing you as your husband to go on a solo mission (he’s ignoring your unrestrained laughter about it), and that you’ll have to think of something to make it up to him on your way home which will be in 3 days, 11 hours and 27 minutes (he’s counting)

cw: afab!reader (no pronouns used, 'cunt' and 'pussy' used to describe genitalia), video call sex, dirty talk, masturbation, praise kink, mention of spitting, sweet talking Naoya into submission, he has nipple piercings in this one, Naoya being his own warning

“Seriously? You couldn’t wait three seconds to at least show me your face before flipping the camera to your dick?”

You lie on your stomach in a hotel bed that’s way too big for you alone, fresh out of the shower, glancing down at your phone in your hand. After a long day of fighting an extremely nasty curse, you crave nothing more than rubbing one out to the voice of your husband and passing out immediately afterwards. Your hips grind lazily into a pillow between your legs, feeling that familiar throb, while Naoya on the other end strokes himself on display as slowly, his thumb drawing circles over his leaking tip. His moans are slightly muffled over the speaker.

“Can’t help it, babe, I’ve been like this all day, aching for ya. Had my cock throbbing even at family dinner. Been thinking about nothing other than stuffing all of yer greedy holes. Just look–”

The movements of the video get a bit shaky when he fists his cock, pumping himself at a leisurely pace. You’ve memorized every vein of his cock, feeling your mouth water a little at the sight of it. While Naoya wasn’t a size king, he had the girth and you vividly remember how he knocked the air out of your lungs when he pounded you into the mattress for the very first time. You roll your hips some more, chasing for the right friction to get you off, the camera still aimed at your face. 

“Then gimme a show at least,” you whine and put on a small pout which you know Naoya can never resist. If there’s anything Naoya loves, then it’s attention and praise, and he is way too easy to bait into whatever could offer him that.

“Oh, ‘m gonna give yer a show, baby. Gonna make ya regret not being here with me. I’d have ya drooling all over my cock if yer were here with me now,” he rattles. “Would spit in yer mouth, that’s how ya like it, dontcha?” 

The display turns dark and blurry for a moment, and you can practically feel the excitement from the other end of the line when Naoya props his phone up against something to have his hands free. He is so obedient at times, yet he would hate to hear that. For the first time today you get a glimpse of his face now, the pink of his tongue poking out slightly between his lips, his hakama pants hanging unfastened from his hips, his cock resting heavy on his thigh when he leans back.

“The shirt, too,” you demand. “Take it off.”

“Nah, too many buttons,” Naoya huffs and grips his cock again, making sure to angle it just right at the camera. Oh, how he wished you were on your knees before him right now. All the ways he’d mess you up. 

“Then pull it up at least. C’mon, put it in your mouth like I do it for you sometimes,” you coax him in your sweetest, sultriest voice. “I know you can be a good boy for me.”

Naoya’s hips yerk up slightly at the praise and he lets out a shaky breath, clearly trying to restrain himself from coming too fast. His resilience is crumbling so easily at the sight of your pretty face and he hastily grabs the hem of his shirt and pulls it up, biting down on it to keep the fabric from sliding down again. One nice side effect of this was that with his mouth stuffed, he would shut up for once. 

“Mmm, yes. That’s it, so good, aren’t you?” you coo and have Naoya gripping his cock tighter, his movements getting sloppy. His abs contracted with every jerk of his hand, and soon he was whining and panting, legs spread apart so beautifully for your perfect view. 

“Are you gonna cum for me, baby?”, you ask while grinding against your pillow, mesmerized by the sight on your display. Seeing a man like Naoya falter so easily at your words alone has you feeling a certain kind of arousal, pooling right in your stomach. 

It makes you want to wreck him entirely. 

Naoya nods and whimpers, using his free hand to play with his nipple piercing, all while his other pumps himself into a higher sphere. His hips are bucking and precum is drooling from his pink tip, making a mess out of him and amplifying the lewd sounds. 

He doesn’t last long, and when he cums thick white ropes fall onto his stomach, his mouth hanging agape. His cheeks are flushed and he mewls while he keeps stroking himself, milking every last drop out of him while chanting your name in a needy voice.

This. This might be your favorite sight ever. 

“Such a good boy. So good for me. Now bend over for me, hm? Show’s not over yet.”

#jjk x reader #nanami x reader #naoya x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #nanami kento x reader #naoya zenin x reader #jjk reader insert #jjk x you #jjk imagines #jjk scenarios #nanami kento #naoya zenin

[mysticalsoot]

heaven is you (godbur au)

first installment of my godbur au & gift to my sister <3

➸ note; i wanted to finish this for @lillylvjy. lillys been a big play in why i still write and why i haven’t given up on shifting or given up on myself or this account. thanks to her i don’t impulsively delete things and i move forward. a few months ago i threw the idea of godbur at her and we talked about it and formed this character, she gives me the credit but she deserves just as much credit as i do. she’s my sister, regardless of biological attachment, she is my sister. i love her and i will protect her for as long as she’ll let me. she’s always there for me, holding me up and supporting me. if i’m upset or hurt, she’s there to listen and offer support. she also spends way more money on me than she should. and i love her, so a little note, don’t mess with her. thank you lills, i love you and enjoy this lil fic i somehow managed to finish in a day! also big thanks to @sleeby-anon for helping me pick out the photo and just helping me with this fic- tysm! you’re very cool and i love u (thank you for being a good friend to lilly :3 )

➸ pairing; godbur x gn!reader

➸ summary; after a few (actually, many) instances where you risked your life in order to reach your beloved wilbur’s world, you have a final disagreement that brings him to a few realizations and maybe some more effort to bring you want you want

➸ warning; kinda hurt but comfort at end, illusions to suicide but not flat out said, probably swearing, is there an unbalanced power dynamic? probably, uses of baby (i’m sorry i’m a sucker for it-), i think that’s it!

➸ age-rating; 15+

➸ wordcount; 2k

main masterlist

"darling," the word rolled off wilbur's tongue with ease, like it had been spoken millions of times. perhaps it had been, but your mind was too foggy with fear and desperation to think clearly, "you can't keep doing this."

he pleads for you, hands on your shoulders and eyebrows pulling together as he looks down at you.

"what else am I supposed to do?" your voice cracks as the words flow out, and he frowns, shaking his head and looking to the side.

"live," he pauses, turning his head to face you. his grip on your shoulders tightens just a bit, "there's more to life than seeking refuge in my world. be alive, live in mortality."

he's begging you, pleading for you. he hates to see you hurt, and he hates the way his world's laws are. you can't be thrust into immortal responsibilities yet, and you can't stay long as a mortal with purpose. you have to go, but you would rather die a million more times before you accept that.

"can't you just let me stay? what's the problem in letting me be free where I want to be, with you," you're pleading with him now. on your hands and knees praying to the god before you to just let you stay. you're standing, knees going weak just a smidge. your eyes are burning from tears and your cheeks are wet with a desperation.

"I can't, I really can't," his frown deepens and he pulls you into his chest, face in his white ruffly shirt. he smells like home, but a home you can never truly have. he cups the back of your head with his hand, rubbing at your scalp with his fingertips as you sigh.

"it's the rules," a kiss to the top of your head and you want to scream and cry and bang at his chest. but you don't, you stay still in his grasp, holding your calm in your hands so tightly.

"the rules are stupid," you mumble into his shirt, he moves a hand to rub your back.

he chuckles, nodding in agreement before speaking again, "I agree, love."

days pass after he sent you back, you mulled over ways and methods you could reach him again in desperate hope he'd finally give in to your pleas and let you stay.

you were wandering the woods, pacing between trees as you tried to narrow down your plans. you could try summoning him, but it wasn't fool proof. you could try to speak to him through meditation, but he sometimes ignored you 'for your sake'.

you weren't sure what would work, and you were kicking yourself for not knowing. but also for the doubts that filled your mind. what if he kicked you out again? told you to never see him again and made sure you couldn't? what if he forced you to live out your mortality purely out of his anger at you. what if he was angry?

you sigh, resting your head against the tree, sighing as you screw your eyes shut, banging your fist against the bark before stepping back.

"what more do you want?" you beckon up at the sky, he's not listening, you're sure of it but you need to be angry at something, somewhere. it's unfair.

"for you to listen," his voice mumbles in your mind and you scoff, shaking your head as the memory of his accent echoes in your mind.

"yeah well, you don't have the best ideas, now do you?"

"y/n.." he murmurs, his tone a gentle warning to you so you don't say something you'll regret. or do something, for that matter.

"wilbur," you copy his tone, mocking it almost before you groan, falling to sit on the ground.

"you know you can't do this, you know that," you can hear the strain in his voice, the way he draws it out and softens it just to reach out to you and make amends for it.

"but what else am I meant to do?" you want to scream at the top of your lungs, cry to him and bitch about the situation you're in. how you're continually denied what you want. you thought you proved yourself, you thought you proved that you could handle immortality. that you could handle him.

it's silent, not a sound is made around you or even echoed in your mind. you wondered if his methods of communication were a curse or a blessing. it felt more like a curse at the moment. it felt like a taunt to you, how powerless you felt down on earth, in morality. you felt so out of control, like a puppet. and maybe wilbur was the puppeteer, but who’s to say it wasn’t someone else? maybe he was just an illusion, a hallucination that controlled your motives and thoughts simply by the prospect of maybe having some hope to grasp onto. a nice, soft candle in the middle of a dark and empty room.

he was the light you couldn’t quite reach.

he finally speaks up, his tone rushed and worried, but his words keep you from second guessing it, “i have an idea.”

“what?” you mumble, nearly tripping over the single word.

“you want to stay with me, yes?” he sounds almost frustrated for a moment before sighing almost exasperated.

“yes, yes, that’s what i’ve been saying. you never listen-“

wilbur cuts you off, “i listen, i promise. okay? i listen to you, now, listen to me for a second, okay baby?”

you ponder for a moment before giving in, “fine.”

“i’ll let you come back, under a few conditions,” you wait a moment, giving him time to list his conditions but he doesn’t seem to budge on his own.

“and what are those?” you fold your arms over your chest, huffing as you imagine wilbur pinching the bridge of his nose and sighing at you.

“i’ll tell you when you get here, okay?” he pauses, sand surprisingly you can hear the hesitation almost as if he were there with you and not just speaking through your mind, “there’s a tree-“

“a tree? wow, so fancy,” your annoyance bubbling up at the way he wasn’t being direct.

he warns you again, a whispering of your name to keep you in line before he continues, “there’s a tree a few minutes in front of you, there will be lilliums around the base and a circle door in the middle. it’ll take you here, no need to do what you normally do, okay? please just, don’t do something stupid and get up here, okay?”

you take a moment before answering, wondering if you want to believe him or ignore him at the moment, “okay, fine.”

you wait a few minutes, making sure he doesn’t have anything more to say before standing up and beginning the walk over to the tree. it feels stupid, how hopeful you are and how confident you feel over walking to a damn tree as if it’ll fix your biggest qualm with the way your god’s world works. you stop short, maybe a good eight feet from the base of the tree, your eyes dancing around and staring at the lilly flowers lining the base and spreading over the roots. you play with the idea of turning around and walking back, abandoning him and any loyalty you had to him. but then you look back at the trunk before you and sigh, giving in and stepping back towards it. your fingers reach out to grasp the hook on the corner, pulling it back and crawling in, not without doubts of course but you aren’t sure what you have to lose.

you pull the door back to close it and turn around, darkness encompassing your whole being as you feel a sort of light feeling take over your senses. are you dreaming? it doesn’t feel like a dream, but it seems like one. are you real? is this real?

your thoughts shut off, cut like a guillotine, but the blade being the darkness and silence. you no longer felt anything but a void, and then you began to feel warm fabric, and then a whiff of cologne hit your nose and then you were finally able to open your eyes.

“i see you’re awake?” you peek up, rubbing your eyes as you take in your surroundings, eyes catching on the familiar figure of wilbur, sitting in a reading chair in the corner of his bedroom. you’ve been here before, you’ve slept in this bed but now it feels different. it’s a good different, but it isn’t the same.

“i am now,” you pause, tossing the covers over and off your legs as you sit up against the ornate headboard, gazing over at him as he meets your eyes and sets down his journal, “what happened?”

“i convinced myself that i could manage switching your role to immortal,” he sighs, moving his gaze to the floor as he chews his lip, mind reeling as he lists off all the rules he broke just to bring his love into his life.

“mm, was it paperwork that kept you from it?” you chuckle, much too happy at the moment to even think of how angry you were and still are at him.

“no,” he chuckles dryly, shaking his head, “it was.. more serious than that but that’s no talk for now. how are you feeling, love?” he stands from his chair, finding a spot on the edge of the bed by your feet and resting his hands on your legs.

“i couldn’t be more tired, what the hell happened? how did i get here?” you murmur, rubbing your eyes as you take note of the pulsing ache at your temples.

“i guided you through a dream, to get here, and once you reached this world, i switched some things around in your file,” he squeezes your calf, his eyes staring at the wall for a good minute before meeting your gaze.

“so that means…?”

“you’re immortal and no longer have any ties with your old world, you’re mine now, just the way you wanted,” he sighs, lifting your legs to lay over his lap as he reaches over and kisses your forehead. there’s a sort of calmness about him that you’ve yet to see until now. you never knew such peace could exist in him.

“i’ll answer any question you have.” you nod to him, acknowledging his offer but not knowing where to start,

you have too many questions to even verbalize, or let alone ask, and the growing headache isn’t helping either. so after a moment’s contemplation, you decide to let the piles questions take a rest while you enjoy your wilbur’s company.

you lean forward and kiss his cheek once, and you watch as a gentle rosiness floods the pale skin that he adorns and his lips curl up in a smile.

“how about we have a day to ourselves and celebrate?” you suggest, grabbing his hand to play with his fingers, chewing on your lip as you keep your eyes down.

“okay, as long as you promise to ask questions later?” he tilts your head up by your chin, a loving care in his eyes.

“promise,” you smile, kissing the tip of his nose before continuing and jumping off the bed, “now show me that pretty garden you have, yeah?”

he smiles, standing up and meeting you where you stand. he leans down, hands resting on your cheeks with giggles escaping his lips at your excitement, “may i kiss you first?”

“yes, sir you may,” your fingers wrap around his waist as he brings his lips to yours, smiling softly as your mouths move in sync. a moments pass before you both need air and you pull back, moving to tug on his hand, “now come on! show me the lilliums!”

he leads you out to the garden, smiling the whole way as he can’t help but to think how grateful he is that he broke a few rules and let heaven be you.

taglist; @lcvejoy @lillylvjy @ella-fella-bo-bella @lotusanonymouse @willgoldszn @whos-nicooo @zebonos

#lilly♡ !! #bee<3 #godbur #god!wilbur #godbur x gn!reader #god!wilbur x gn!reader #godbur x reader #god!wilbur x reader #wilbur soot imagine #wilbur soot x reader #wilbur fanfiction #wilbur imagine #wilbur soot #wilbur x reader #wilbur #wilbur soot angst #wilbur soot x you #wilbur soot fluff #wilbur soot x y/n #wilbur x you #wilbur x y/n

[rainbowhao]

Renjun Fic Recs

A/N: Most of these recommendations contain mature/explicit content, so please be sure to read the warnings beforehand!

Annoyingly Cute  (1k)

You had no valid real reason that any of your friends could understand for why you liked Huang Renjun. He wasn't nice to you or pretty much anyone for that matter. But he was handsome, and somewhat pathetically, that was enough for you.

Lucky Strike (2k) 

Unfortunately, most of your friends are either off-campus or don’t have the space to spare. Except for your friend in acapella club, Renjun. Knowing he lives on-campus, at the end of your practice, you explain your situation and inquire if you can stay with him tomorrow evening.

Wifi (2k) 

He sinks down further into his nest of blankets in an attempt to stop the feelings from taking over his chest, but to no avail. Renjun has a total, major, embarrassing crush on his roommate.

Keeping Me Human (4k) (ft. HC)

“Oh, don’t pay attention to him,” you intertwine your arm with Renjun’s. “He’s just trying to make you jealous so that you notice me.”

“Notice you?” He shakes the hair out of his face, tilting to give you as much of his arm as you need to balance yourself.

“Well, notice my feelings for Renjun, to be exact.” You gasp. “W-wait, shit. You’re Renjun.”

He holds back his chuckle, though he’s pretty sure his heated cheeks reveal enough. At least you won’t remember his reaction in the morning.

All I Ever Wanted (4k) 

When you still refuse to open your eyes, terrified at this point to face your feelings, you hear Renjun sigh. His hand moves on your arm, and you expect him to withdraw, to walk away from you like you’d done to him earlier. But instead you feel his fingers against your cheek, brushing down to your neck.

Shotgun (8k)

You’re not sure what happened, but your feelings for Renjun knocked the wind out of you last year on the walk from his front door to your car. In a short moment he went from ‘Renjun, awkwardly long-limbed friend of a friend that has cool hair’ to- ‘Renjun, boy with really pretty lips who doesn’t love you back’.

Glad I Could Be of Service (10k in total--series)

Watching you walk away, Renjun licks his lips, feeling like his entire mouth was full of cotton. It was as if he hadn’t drank water in days, and you were an oasis. He couldn’t fathom how he had never met you before.

Baila (11k) 

Renjun’s hand stays around the curve of your hip, steadying you whenever you lose balance. If it was possible for him to burn a palm print onto your skin, it probably would happen with the way his grip seemed to tighten with every count.

The Art of Innocence (11k)

You blamed this stupid pact that the boys had. If they’d never made the pact, then you wouldn’t have been dragged into helping him lose his virginity, then you would have never realized your feelings for him, and things would be how they used to be.

Through the Lens (11k)

he hardly even knew you and here you were, asking for a favor with this puppy dog look in your eyes. you were practically begging for him to accept your offer. of course, renjun loved taking photos, but it was obvious that he wasn’t too comfortable around lots of people. and a parade? hell, that sounds like a shit ton of people. yet, despite that voice in his head that was yelling at him to decline so he wouldn’t be forced into an uncomfortable position, he found himself lost in how hopeless you looked. how you wanted nothing more than for him to say yes.

Happier Than Ever (16k)

Huang Renjun is your brother’s best friend, though. He grew up with you and watched you change into the girl you are today, with high goals and her brother away in college, and if you said his company was all you needed from him to study well, he was ready to let you even live in his room, if that’s what you needed.

Fifty Shades of Paint (17k) 

“so let me get this clear. you want me to paint your ass and legs to leave them imprinted on a canvas?” renjun brought the hand that was holding his brush down, turning to look at you, disturbed. “a new, perfectly clean canvas?”  

Service Call (24k)

you hummed to yourself as you go to stalk her social media pages, seeing pictures of her and renjun together. renjun was quite pretty, and looked as handsome as ever. you began to wonder why she would want to break up with someone who was quite literally any girls dream. it was puzzling, but there was no going back now. she already paid, and you already agreed. turning off your tableside lamp, you let out one last yawn before closing your eyes and preparing mentally for your next job. break huang renjun’s heart in the nicest way possible.

FIC RECS BLOG

#renjun #nct #nct dream #nct smut #nct fluff #nct imagines #nct scenarios #nct x reader #renjun smut #renjun fluff #huang renjun #nct fanfic #nct renjun #nct drabbles #renjun scenarios #nct fic #renjun imagines #renjun x reader #renjun fic

[ac3id]

Plaything | 18+

plaything 0/ ?? | part 1

pairings: yandere! bully bakugou katsuki x fem! reader

warnings: [series] blackmail, bullying, dubcon/ noncon, filming w/o consent, yandere themes, no quirks au. ALL CHARACTERS ARE ABOVE 18 YEARS OF AGE.

↪ for chapter 0: dubcon, blackmail, humiliation.

summary: by luck, you get enrolled into u.a high the best school in your town. the only catch is that the school is filled with rich, spoilt, and powerful brats who just seem to hate you, and among them, a certain red-eyed blonde dreads you the most

↪ for chapter 0: you reject bakugou’s proposal to fuck in the dirty boys' washroom so he teaches you a lesson.

— navigation

wordcount. 2k+

a/n: hello !! so this is like a little introduction to my yandere! bully! bakugou series fic. there’s also going to a lot of other bnha character mentions but the main pairing will be w/ baku n reader. enjoy!

“bakugou, i don’t want to do this,” your voice is weak as you bite on your lower lip, trying to stop sinful moans from leaking out of your mouth. bakugo has you bent over the cold and wet sink counter, your chest pressed against the dirty marble while your skirt is flipped over your displaying your bare, perky round ass to his stalking eyes. “who are you calling bakugo?” he spanks your ass with force, making you lose your footing as your head bumps lightly against the mirror.

“sorry, master,” you answer barely above a whisper but it’s loud enough in the empty washroom for him to hear yet he makes you repeat yourself,

“what was that, brat? i couldn’t fucking hear you.” he spanks you again, his heavy hand coming in contact with your soft ass with ferocity sending you flying off your feet.

“i am sorry, master!” you exclaim a little loudly, hoping it would satisfy him. and it does. he scoffs crudely, ghosting his fingers over your pussy lips before dipping his large fingers between them and petting your dry hole. he plays with your cunt, stroking his fingers lovingly over your little pearl, gathering wetness as he slips one finger into your hole. pumping them in and out at a slow pace. he takes his time, building up your orgasm while laughing wickedly as you try to hold in your moans. his fingers inside your cunt increase their pace as your juices start dripping down to your thighs,

“you said you don’t want this?” while his right hand destroys your cunt, his other hand wraps around your small neck. grasping it lightly, making it harder for you to breathe. “why are you dripping everywhere like a slut? hm?”

he had pulled you aside from regular classes, declaring them boring as fuck and that he wanted to do something much better like; fucking you in the boys' washroom. you denied, you told him no. you wanted to attend the lesson and besides skipping with him wouldn’t be any good to you. he was not kind to you, he was a meanie. he still insisted; telling you it’s fine, he knows the material. he can just tutor you later. no harm done, see? see?

if there was anything you hated more than being stuck in the prestigious u.a. high where everyone seemed to be out for your blood was spending time with bakugo katsuki. and being with him alone was another nightmare. he hated you. you didn’t know why, he’d never say why. you just assumed it was because of that one time you accidentally spilled coffee on him or maybe it was just because you breathed. honestly, both seemed favorable in this situation.

after many failed attempts of convincing you to come with him, he gets fed up. he pulls out his phone and shoves it into your face. his screen displays pictures of you which he had taken before and the ones which you had sent him. they are all lewd shots. pictures of you sucking him off while looking into the camera with glassy eyes illuminated the screen and as you swiped right it changed to another with the same background, lighting, and angle but the only difference being that your face was now covered with his seed while you posed for the camera with an innocent smile.

a look deeper into his gallery and you find your nudes which bakugo had forced you to take. it was necessary for you to be naked with your tits and ass being visible, he also wanted to see your face and would never settle for anything else. he never settles for anything without your face in it, makes you take those shots again and again until he’s satisfied with the results. he saves them, all of them. even the ‘bad ones' have been screenshotted and saved onto his phone for his personal use. he never tells what he uses them for but you don’t need to hear it from him. you already know he’s jerking off to each one of them every night before he goes to sleep.

it’s funny, anyone could take a look at those pictures and find out they are not photos exchanged between lovers. your expressions- no matter how hard you try, you always end up looking like you want to cry. there’s fear in your eyes and it just doesn’t feel authentic. it looks forced. like someone had put a gun to your head while you sat and took them. and well, that’s not a far-fetched idea.

he promises these are for his eyes only, “no one else gets to you like this. you are mine.” his words exactly but when his friends also start staring at you with lust-ridden eyes, you can’t help but question his words.

he blackmails you into coming with him. threatening he’d leak those pictures all around the school if you didn’t come with him as if he hadn’t already. as if your compromising photos weren’t already saved in all of your classmates’ phones anyway. bakugo should give himself a pat on the back, he’s such a great actor!

“for someone who doesn’t want this,” his demeaning, rude voice pulls you back from the dreamland you were trying to escape to. he forces you nearer to your edge, tiny whimpers leave your lips accompanied with loud moans as his fingers brush deliciously against your sweet spot. your precious cunt greedily pulls him in deeper and deeper, inviting him graciously into your womb but unfortunately, his fingers aren’t that long. but you know what is?

“you sure are dripping like a whore.” with every whimper which leaves your supple lips, bakugo feels himself get harder. his pants tighten as a bulge starts straining against his expensive, pleated bottoms. the hand prettily choking your neck detaches itself leaving you inhaling puffs of air as he works his pants off his hips. as you hear the rattling of his belt coming undone, a loud cry enough to draw attention from others outside of the room leaves your throat.

it catches bakugo off guard but nonetheless helps him get even harder, he likes to make you cry and get off to it. “why are you crying, bitch? it’s not doing you any favors here.” his fingers rub against your swollen, little pearl while lining up his fat cock to your blinking hole. “please, bakugo, don’t. i will do anything, anything else. just not this, i’ve never done this before.” you sound pathetic. your voice breaking with every word you utter. big, fat tears rolling down your cheeks while you ugly cried. bakugo almost feels sorry.

but in all honesty, he really couldn't care less about you. all your whining and crying only incite him further as ruthless ideas to break you down flood his mind. the kindest so far being him taking you right here and now but, but a sudden flash of seeing you utterly broken and in misery flashed before his eyes and he couldn’t let go of it. he wanted to see you tremble much more than you were right now. he wanted to see you cry much more than you were crying right now. Maybe he did hate you, he always pushed you around like you were his little pet of some sort to prove a point- that he is better than you. he is superior, you must respect him. you should kiss the ground he walks on, you should let yourself be his little plaything. then maybe, he’ll let you loose? who knows, he might just get even more obsessed.

as he watches you cry beneath him, your pathetic whimpers reverberating off the marble walls, a wicked idea pops into his head. he pulls his dick away from your exposed hole instead, replacing it with his fingers like before. “fine, brat.” his voice is softer, it surprises you. was he not going to rape you after all? “just because you said anything.” there it is again, the edge in his voice that makes you regret what you said. now, you know he has something worse planned for you. but it’s too late, you can’t go against your word now. you said anything, get ready to do anything. “stop squirming, i’m trying to make you cum. god knows whether you can even do that for yourself.” you most definitely can.

"a bitch like you needs someone to do everything for her.” again, you are probably the most independent student in the whole school,

“am I right, princess?” you are so wrong. “yes, master.”

no matter how crude and humiliating his words were and how much you hated his voice, you still found yourself clenching around his fingers almost ripping them off. your cunt squeezed his digits tightly as the coil building in your stomach tightened. moans of his name echoed all over the room as you felt yourself come closer. bakugo was taking his time playing with you, drawing you out making your release painfully slow as a form of revenge. you begged for him to play with your little clit so you could achieve ecstasy but he was too petty. after minutes of agonizing you to the point, there were tears streaming down your face and drool escaping your lips, falling onto the wet counter. he finally decided to flick his finger against your hardened bud. rubbing tight circles, he played with it aimlessly until he felt the gush of wetness around his fingers and the high-pitched scream which left your mouth as you came. his other hand pumped his still-hard cock. he was still pissed that he wouldn’t be able to cum inside you but it was fine for now. he had something much brutal set up in his mind for his plaything, he was aware that what he was planning might completely destroy but he figured it was worth it. much better to have a mindless slave who lives to fulfill her master’s wishes anyway.

he lets go of you, backing away with his hard cock still out and aching for relief. the huge head blushed red and leaking with pre, too bad he won’t get to finish inside of you yet. you quickly walk away from him, bending forward to search for your discarded panties. bakugo grunts at the sight of your wet pussy presenting itself to him, riling him up even more than he already was. He wastes no time pumping his cock at the sight of your exposed bottom, gasp and groans of pleasure escaping his lips,

“oi, what the fuck are you doing?” he asks, catching you sliding your panties on your legs. you turn around to face him, face burning when you are met with him stroking his cock at your movements. your eyes almost can’t leave the sight of his leaking cock, hard and begging to be played with and as much as you to admit it; it lights a fire inside you.

“stop fucking staring, you’re making it worse,” he growls and you immediately turn your eyes to his face. he smirks, “what? do you want it now? too bad, it’s too late,” he taunts. his eyes trail your body, eyebrows furrowing when he looks down your legs. “who told you to wear them,” he points at your panties between your legs. you give him a confused look, “you’re not allowed to put them on. give them to me,” he commands and panic crosses your eyes. you hesitate for a moment, debating whether you should listen to him or not. his fists clench as he glares at you, sending shivers down your spine, “what are looking at! give!” he speaks louder this time in a demanding tone as if he was scolding a little child who had picked up something from his office. your fingers tremble as you reach out to give the pink fabric to him, “leave.” what? you look at him in confusion. your big, doe eyes racking fear and anxiety. you wait for him to laugh or make a sarcastic remark about how gullible you are but it never comes. instead, he wraps your cotton panties around his cock, right in front of you, and begins jerking himself off. you are disgusted and petrified by his shameless actions, “what are you standing here for? leave. remember you said anything?” yeah, so you did. and you regret it already.

your legs tremble as you walk towards the door, pushing it open and peaking your head to check for people in the hallway. once you find it empty you walk out to the outside before sparing one last glance inside the dirty washroom. you hope for bakugo to call out to you, call you back but all you see is him cumming thick ropes into your panties while his eyes are screwed shut in ecstasy. yeah, you weren’t getting those back.

with shame and defeat written all over your face, you make your back to your classroom. your face is heated with embarrassment and humiliation as you remember you are walking around practically naked just an accident away from flashing yourself to anyone who cares to see. for the better half of the day, you walk around tugging your skirt as low as it can get. you don’t see bakugo for the rest of the day as he leaves you alone but when you do catch his eyes for a second or two, the wicked grin stretching over his features is hard to miss. He knows exactly what he is doing.

just as the day is about to end, he walks behind you squeezing your bare ass from under your skirt managing a surprised shriek from you when you feel his warm palms caress your ass pervertedly, “cute.” he whispers in your ear before turning you around and pinning you the wall. his fingers slide up your thighs moving closer to your cunt. warm digits graze over your slit earning a gasp from you, “come over, I will tutor you on the subjects you missed.” he kisses your neck, “come just like this.” he spanks your ass lightly before he leaves you be. his words are absolute and you know better than to disobey him, all of this was happening because you disobeyed him. you gather your things and walk up to his dorm room dressed just as you were before: in your school shirt, blazer, skirt, and no panties just as he wants it. when you arrive in his room you are met with his entire friend group sitting there with their books and pencils out. kaminari, kirishima and sero are not as surprised to see you as you are to see them. they greet you with happy faces which you return with a light smile.

“hey,” bakugo says with a smirk, guiding you to sit between sero and kirishima. between them the two humongous men, you feel like a child. with kirishima being tall and muscular and Sero being tall, lean and surprisingly packing a few too, makes you feel like a dwarf. you feel small and tiny in their presence and they very much notice it, sending knowing looks to one another while bakugo tries to tutor you. you know something’s up.

not a lot of studying takes place as kirishima grows impatient and slides his hand under your skirt and settles it over your cunt, rubbing his fingers on your pussy lips, occasionally pressing them on your clit. sero flips your skirt displaying your naked cunt to peering eyes. kaminari whistles, “wow, she really wasn’t wearing anything the entire day,” he comments. with one hand, Kirishima captures your wrists behind your back and pushes you on his lap. sero holds your legs to prevent you from squirming around like a dead fish, trying to break free. “so who goes first?” kaminari asks, walking over to you and crouching at your level. kirishima holds tightly with him seated on bakugo’s bed, kaminari flashes you a charming smile before his fingers run to unbutton your t-shirt, pulling your tits out of your bra. he tugs on one of your nipples while kishima’s large digits tugs on another.

“obviously me, dumbass.” bakugo barks coming closer to you. tears prick at your eyes as you beg him to stop, you tell him you’re sorry and that you will never disobey him ever again but he’s too far gone. the other men in the room might feel a little shitty about what they were going to do but there is no remorse in bakugo’s eyes. he looks at you like a predator looks at his prey, stalking about to pounce at any given second, “shut up, whore. you asked for this.” tears break loose as kirishima starts spreading your legs on command. wandering fingers rubbing at your pussy, trying to get you ready are forced to stop as bakugo declares that it must hurt for you. he wouldn’t have it any other way.

“you know you should have never said no to me right? be grateful for what’s being given to you, you’re our little plaything. a cute, little slut. you don’t get to say no,” his rough fingers grab at your jaw, prying it open as he spits in your mouth. “now just shut up and take our cocks, okay?” you cry out yes but he’s not satisfied. His hand strikes against your face, your cheek stings with burning hot pain as more tears leak out of your eyes. grabbing your face harshly, he lifts it up so you’re facing him, “okay?” he repeats. you calm your breath before answering him, fear and anxiety fucking you up in dread for what’s to come.

“yes, master,” you say in the most submissive voice you make out.

#tw: noncon #tw: dubcon #bakugou.🧡 #bakugou thirst.💥 #bakugou x reader #yandere bakugou #yandere bakugou smut #bakugou katsuki #yandere!bakugou #bakugou x you #bakugou x fem!reader #bakugo imagine #bakugou x y/n #bakugou x reader smut #bnha #bnha fanfiction #bnha smut #bnha x reader #bnha yandere #bnha manga #my hero academia #yandere #yandere smut #yandere writing #yandere fics #yandere x reader #kirishima x reader #yandere kirishima #yandere kaminari #kaminari x reader

[pesiko]

CHANYEOL ONESHOT RECS

M mature | ✿ personal favorite

Icarus - a piece of the sun crashes down on earth M ✿ [14k]

Love Note - modern Greek God AU, Cupid and Pysche [11k]

The Wedding Date, or; How to Avoid the Singles... [10.7k]

The Lyricism of You - a Tokyo hoodie and playlist titles [9k]

Just Give In - idol PCY, SM Town work shop event [8.7k]

Greatest Gift - can’t form an answer with my lips M [8.7k]

Guilty - failing marriages, affair, forbidden romance [7.6k]

Sussurant - best friends, spilled orange juice, M ✿ [5.6k]

Who Are You? - happiness delight and mango slaw [5.6k]

Pretend - royalty, arranged marriages, cold behavior [5.5k]

Misdial - he thinks he’s calling Baekhyun, angsty [5.6k]

In Absentia - where love is illegal, memory loss, angst [4.3k]

Stressed Out - things happen and you pass out [4.1k]

What Do You Call a Cow? - smoothies, comedy [2.5k]

Close Up - taking photos of you wearing his shirt M [2.4k]

Thinking about You - hearing each other’s thoughts [2.3k]

Obvious - takeout, “you spit in my apartment!” [2.3k]

Console - “I can love you enough for the both of us” [2.3k]

Table 13 - Chanyeol comes in w different women [2.3k]

Sandwich Shop - he’s a big fan of a beauty youtuber [2.1k]

Your Love is What I Prefer - he’s jealous bc of that ring [2k]

Miscommunication - you were both stood up [1.7k]

Criminal - post break up, lies [1.7k]

Prepared - wedding dress practice, “I wasn’t ready” ✿ [1.6k]

Anti Hero - Topaz n Ember, Washington Post advice [1.6k]

Butterflies - studio sleepover, established relationship [1.6k]

Cold - crush Chanyeol comes over when you’re sick [1.5k]

The End - cancer, straight up angst, I cried ✧ [1.5k]

Between Coffee and Kisses - twin bed, 5 minutes [1.4k]

Drink Water - he’s worried about your health [1.4k]

I Want You to Stay - going out, playful suspicion [1.3k]

Just a Little Key Chain - enemies to fwb to lovers [1.3k]

Woes of a Call Girl - overheard phone call, suggestive [1.3k]

Move - “I want you to nag” [1.2k]

I Don’t Like Him Around You - costars, harassment [1.2k]

As the Seasons Change - angst, daughter, loss [1.2k]

You’re It - “don’t talk abt my lil sis not wearing pants” [1.1k]

Frostbite - it’s cold and there’s one way to warm up [1.1k]

Is Bigger Better - neighbor PCY and his xmas tree [1.1k]

Best Friend’s Brother - kitchen, “not just some girl” [1k]

Radiant - PCY comes back from an event, ft Toben [1k]

Babysitting Blues - nephew, power rangers and pasta [1k]

Chords - guitarist, unfortunate misunderstandings [1k]

Coffee-Holic - he’s addicted to coffee and the barista [1k]

Only a Little Drunk

❥ CHANYEOL NAVI

[main masterlist] [exo masterlist] updated 6-16-21

#chanyeol #park chanyeol #chanyeol fic recs #exo #exo fic recs #chanyeol oneshots #exo oneshots #chanyeol fluff #chanyeol angst #chanyeol scenarios #chanyeol imagines #chanyeol writing #chanyeol fic #chanyeol fanfic #chanyeol x reader #exo fic #exo fanfic

[alienaiver]

Half the Battle, pt. 1

Kuroo Tetsurou x gn!reader

find part two here!

warnings: slight angst about childhood/parents fighting/divorce, one (1) bottle of wine is opened, someone is betrayed in Mario Party, NOT beta-read! apologize for any mistakes! (lmk if there’s any warnings i missed!)

wordcount: 5.5k

content: soulmate AU, mild angst, fluff, post-timeskip but slight canon divergence (i haven’t read the manga yet so this is loosely based off of their canon timeskip lives), gender neutral reader, reader is a video editor, reader is bad at eye contact but the details as to why are vague/up for interpretation!

notes: this was made for @gg9183 ​ ‘s wonderful birthday event, a soulmate collab! (go read the other wonderful works!) happy birthday once again, gray!! this was meant to be a 2k one shot but.... plans and inspiration changes sometimes, right? 🥺 so this ended up as a 5k part ONE lmfao i hope thats alright w u!!! part2 will be up asap, i promise!! i hope you enjoy this!!!! 

—————————

Not meeting his soulmate was fine, Kuroo often found himself thinking. The odds of finding your soulmate’s way too low to be realistic anyways, he supported the thought. It’s illogical to spend so much time fretting about it, he finally added for good measure.

Soulmates were a natural part of life, always had been. But with the big wide world filled with over seven billion people, meeting yours wasn’t completely unheard of. But given the powers of soulmates even existing, it wasn’t unrealistic to also believe that some kind of fate would pull you towards each other throughout your lives so that you would meet each other. Kuroo however, prided himself in not caring about soulmates. His life was rich enough. People explaining their feelings about “something being missing until they finally meet them” was incomprehensible to him.

Kuroo had lived for 29 years without being able to see color. And you know what? His life was damn well fulfilling enough. He had a beautiful apartment, an economy that flourished, an adorable cat named Cucumber and good people around him. What would he really need a soulmate for? He could ignore his friends comments on how wonderful the world was in color, if only he would just start looking for his soulmate, how much meaning it gave life. Just because the people in his closest circle had all magically met theirs – not to mention how many of them had already met in Goddamn high school, Kuroo scoffed and was always able to move on.

Even though a lot of people actively made eye contact with everyone they met, even people on the street, to make sure they would meet their soulmate, Kuroo kept his eyes down. He wasn’t insecure, come on, he was perfectly happy! He just didn’t need to be late for a meeting because he got eye contact with some stranger, you know?

His life was in perfect balance as is.. Until yesterday, of course. It had turned out there was mold in his apartment complex so they had to evict it for a month while a crew would go through everything to remove it. He didn’t want to go to his mother’s place, that was too far from his work, but he wasn’t in the mood for a hotel, that was way too expensive, so he turned to his best friend of many years with the biggest set of puppy eyes he could muster and the prospect of making every dinner while he lived there.

“Fine… but don’t get in the way,” was all Kenma had to say.

And so Kuroo spent his last weekend in his own apartment packing things down to make it accessible to the cleaning crew. Cucumber hated other cats with a passion so he couldn’t bring him to Kenma’s, where three cats already happily lived, so his mother would pick him up tomorrow afternoon.

__

He sat on his couch, scrolling his phone mindlessly with Cucumber on his lap who had been stressed with all the packing down, sensing something was up. He was being extra cuddly towards Kuroo who, honestly? Didn’t mind at all. He loved when Cucumber was in mood for cuddles, though it wasn’t very often. He had been told his cat was orange and while he didn’t have a measure for what that color actually looked like, he was happy with his gray cat.

His mother was supposed to arrive any minute now, so he should have gotten up and put the cat in his carrier but it was easier to get him in it if you had two pair of hands. He scrolled through Instagram, reaching a photo put up by Tsukishima of his soulmate, the light-haired manager of their high school volleyball club, with a tooth-eating grin on her face and proudly showing off a ring on her finger, the caption said, This smile makes me wanna brag. Kuroo could physically hear the provocative tone of his voice, knowing he was one of the first in his circle of friends to actually plan a wedding. Kuroo clicked his tongue with a smile on his face and double-tapped to like the picture.

He didn’t know if it was the combination of that post and the fact that his mother was on her way but memories of his parent’s wedding flooded his mind. For a lot of people, weddings felt obsolete in the face of the whole “you already got your soulmate and you know this” thing, so a lot of couples were happy not getting married but just being together. But there was also the benefits of marriage in the practical sense, so some people did anyways, some hosting parties, some not. His parents weren’t married when he came to, but after he turned five they decided to do it so he would be protected by both of them, in case of any emergency.

It had been a small wedding, only the closest family and friends but Kuroo was vivid, so excited about being part of that whole romantic ordeal, even helping his mom find a dress and everything. He had been a huge and important part of the wedding – if he did say so himself. Everyone had been glowing at the day, the food was delicious, there was laughter, song and cheers and everyone had brought so many presents – even some for little Tetsurou, who had been very excited about his new train tracks.

But when Kuroo was seven years old, it wasn’t as romantic anymore. His parents were fighting a lot, he wasn’t entirely sure why or about what because they would never tell him about it, no matter how much he asked. When he tried to listen in, the words he heard didn’t explain anything to him because even though they were yelling at each other, the important words were always whispered, as if they knew Kuroo was listening in.

When he was eight his mom had come into his room, hugged him and with tears in her eyes and said that they were going to move away.

“Where are we going?” he asked simply, no emotion to be read on his little face. He was exhausted from his parents being this way – they were soulmates, right? Why did they fight like that?

“To Tokyo, just you and me, my love.”

That’s when he met Kenma. He had been very closed-off and shy back when they met, he reminisced. He had been a regular kid when he was younger but the way his parents split up – his soulmate parents – had closed him off pretty bad, so it was a miracle he met Kenma and started opening up again.

Kuroo smiled to himself bitterly before scratching Cucumber’s ear. He supposed this was also why he wasn’t interested in his soulmate. So many people had romanticized the whole soulmate ideal so a lot of people forgot that relationships still took work, took effort and just because they were made for each other, didn’t necessarily guarantee that they would stay together. His mom and dad didn’t officially talk anymore, but when he asked his mom as a child whether or not she still saw color, she said that she did. He also found long letters in her bedroom when he was nine, letters from his dad, so he supposed they still talked together, though Kuroo wasn’t let in on it – nor was he particularly interested. And he definitely we wasn’t interested in ending up in a relationship with someone who would end up not wanting to put in the effort for the relationship to flourish.

After Cucumber had been picked up by his mom it was time to leave for Kenma’s place. He carried the last boxes of valuables down to his basement and locked them in before trekking down to the subway with his suitcase and sports bag.

_____

You were late for work, so you scrambled to pack your things. It was Wednesday afternoon and you were supposed to meet in at 3PM, because that was around the time that Kodzuken had planned to finish his recording, he told you yesterday. You were a video editor and had met Kenma through your old part-time job in his favorite convenience store quite a few years back, back when he had first bought his house when he was 24. You remembered talking to him about video games in the store since you also played some, and after a good while of polite customer service and talk about new games, you had started hanging out outside of work as well. When you had then told him you were actually a freelance video editor but just didn’t get many jobs, he had almost instantly hired you to do his YouTube videos for him and general editing and set-ups of his streams. I know video games, not recording equipment, he had told you so many years ago.

Your original thought had been wary, because working for a friend might get messy but Kenma cared a lot about keeping it professional when you were on the clock, which you appreciated very much. In his house, down by his game room, there was a room next door with screens and all the best editing software just for you to play with. Your pay was higher than average for such a “simple” but regular gig but when prompted about it, he simply shrugged and told you it wasn’t up for negotiation and no one was being treated unfair – and who were you to go against such a good pay for a job that you loved doing and wanted to do full-time? With Kenma being a famous streamer and gamer, he often made lots of different videos for various sites so your job hours resembled a nine to five job, easy, even if the hours were off from the more conventional jobs and you usually came in later in the day and sometimes finished off late in the evening – some of his videos had a time limit for a release date of a game, so there was also days where you were extremely busy and scrambling to get the video done right for a release of a game.

As you closed your bag and ran out the door towards the subway, you checked your phone for any updates. If he’d finished early, he would’ve texted you about it, so you put your phone in your pocket and hurried towards his house.

When you arrived you immediately rang the doorbell before catching your breath, you were used to Kenma spending a few minutes before reaching the door and opening it, so when the door opened almost instantly you took a step back before looking up. The one opening the door was taller than Kenma and in a loose dress shirt that was unbuttoned at the top - that’s all you saw before your eyes darted down to your feet.

“...Hi! I’m uh… Where’s Kenma?” was all you got out while fidgeting with your purse strap, it certainly wasn’t his boyfriend Hinata opening the door today.

“Oh, hey! You must be his video editor, right? He told me about you!” The man said, pointing to himself with his thumb,

“I’m Kuroo Tetsurou! Kenma’s childhood friend! Sorry to intrude, I’ll be living here for the next month, I promise not to get in your way!” As he finished his introduction, he moved aside so that you could enter. As you took off your shoes you heard Kenma’s feet shuffling towards you, “oh hey, welcome, you’re early,” Kenma said with his usual deadpan expression but you could clearly hear the teasing in his voice.

“At least I’m here now, right?” You smiled back, instantly relaxing at the sight of your boss and friend. You turned to Kuroo again, bowed and introduced yourself before taking off your coat and putting it on a hanger, while Kenma and the guy named Kuroo seemed to bicker a bit about whether or not Kuroo should answer the door while he lived there.

“I’ll go set it up, have you transferred the video files to the hard disk?” you asked Kenma as you moved towards ‘your’ office, sending Kuroo a polite smile while keeping your eyes on his neck.

Eye contact was hard for you, it always made you extremely uncomfortable and you didn’t really have any before you felt comfortable with the person. Your mother had often scolded you, saying you’d never find your soulmate at this rate, which you always acknowledged with a hum or a simple yes without starting a discussion.

You honestly weren’t sure whether or not you cared for a soulmate. Your biggest argument to wanting to find one was so that you could see colors, because it’d help your career. Kenma already had his soulmate, so he was the one deciding the color scheme for his videos and helped with the color-related editing, which worked fine as of now, but you would probably appreciate to be able to do it yourself. You had also spent some years coming to terms with your struggles with eye contact and accept that this was just how you functioned. If you missed your soulmate in a random supermarket thanks to it one day, well, you’d be none the wiser, so you felt sure you’d survive without one, but you also couldn’t deny that the sound of a soulmate sounded really nice and comforting. That someone out there existed to fit you, that you were born to love someone who was also meant to love you. You were sure that finding your soulmate wasn’t a dance on roses, it was sure to still be hard, frustrating and maybe even painful sometimes, but you also couldn’t just have all the good, there was a balance that was sure to exist within soulmates as well.

After hours of going through the raw footage from his video game play and slowly editing while watching it, you popped your shoulders and stretched your arms for a moment, yawning as you did so. Your hours were always a bit intense, but that couldn’t be helped when you had six hours of raw footage to work with. Looking at the clock you saw that it was 5.30PM which meant that soon Kenma would wake up from his pseudo-sleep (which was more like a nap in your opinion) to look at your process and ask what you wanted for dinner.

Soon after a soft knock was heard followed by the door opening slowly, Kenma standing in sweats and a hoodie with bags under his eyes, “do you like hotpot?” he asked, and you smiled at him, “sure, are you cooking tonight?” he yawned while he shook his head, “Kuroo is. He insists on a ‘fulfilling meal’, whatever that means.”

You giggled before beckoning Kenma in to see some of what you’ve done so far and making minor adjustments along the way. “Now, something smells delicious and I’m thirsty,” you stated after the two of you had talked a bit about the rest of the video’s plans. As you went towards the kitchen you could hear the sound of of a nameless tune being hummed, pans sizzling from something being cooked and kitchen utensils being used.

Inside, the table was already set with plates and prepared ingredients lying ready for the pot that Kuroo was just about to put on the table. It seemed he had made an endless supply of different side dishes and really put in a lot of work for it, so you looked really forward to eating it and it smelled delicious. You grabbed a glass from the set table and went to the sink to get some water and just as your hand reached it, Kuroo had extended his hand as well to the sink and you accidentally touched.

You both recoiled as if you had been burned and you couldn’t stop the gasp that accidentally left your lips. A feeling was rushing through your body you hadn’t experienced before and you immediately apologized to Kuroo and went back to the table, foregoing the water. You didn’t notice how Kuroo was frozen in place from when he touched you before Kenma called out to him and he immediately started moving again.

You ended up eating shortly after, Kuroo serving the food and talking animatedly about him and Kenma’s childhood, making you laugh quite a bit at their (or more, Kuroo’s) antics and their volleyball days. Kuroo was the type of person to make you relax in his presence and have fun which you didn’t even notice until you got home later that evening and really thought about what a great time you had had. You found yourself surprised by how easily you clicked with Kuroo, a total stranger. It must be his charm, you thought to yourself before going through your night routine. You had to come back tomorrow and finish work, after all. You estimated the video would take you a few more days to finish but that would end up fitting well with the weekend coming, so as you went to bed you felt yourself more relaxed than you had in a while.

_____

“What are they like?”

It was Friday and it seemed you had finished Kenma’s video and therefor you weren’t here for dinner – for the first time in a few days, which did let down Kuroo just a tiny bit. He had talked a lot with you during dinner preparations when you came out from the office and during dinner as well and while you did answer all his questions (which, he admitted, there were quite a few of them) and follow up with your own for him, it still felt… off… talking to you – and Kuroo didn’t like not knowing why. “What do you mean?” Kenma asked, taking another bite into his mouth.

Kenma swallowed a piece of meat before looking up at Kuroo who was stabbing his plate with his fork in what seemed like a useless purpose. He knew he was being a little weird but meeting you was weird, even though he had no reason to explain why.

“I mean, is this how they usually act?” He didn’t even know what that question meant or why he was even asking it, nothing made sense! But he had a desperate feeling that he needed to get to know you – he was afraid of what that implied and what suspicions he needed to hold onto, but he was sure it was his gut telling him you were dangerous for Kenma to be around – that had to be it! Kenma was his best friend, his childhood friend, it had to be a gut feeling meant to protect him!

“Who knows, they’re being more polite than usual, I think. But that makes sense,” Kenma replied calmly before adding, “I mean you are a stranger who’s really intent on being social with them over our dinners, they were a bit shy as well when I met them,”

Kuroo nodded and finally took a bite of his own food. He didn’t notice Kenma’s raised eyebrows or the questioning look that was sent his way, so Kenma decided to let the subject rest.

Not seeing you today felt weird to him too and he couldn’t help the irritation building up inside him – you had just met a few days ago and only in the evenings when he was done with work and ready to make dinner – and yet, the thought of you kept invading his mind. He had gotten through work today thinking you were going to be there for dinner so when he came home and found out you wouldn’t be there, the first seed of irritation had been planted – why was he suddenly looking so much forward to seeing you? Had it been like this yesterday too? Why was it suddenly important that you weren’t there? He ended up sitting in front of the laptop in the guest room for the rest of the evening, the document left open and completely untouched.

Kuroo, however, didn’t let the subject rest in his head for the rest of that evening. Hinata was in town, having time off after a big game yesterday so Kuroo was left to his own devices – which really wasn’t a problem considering he had to make the paperwork for a promotional deal for a meeting Monday morning that he had procrastinated making – which wasn’t like him at all, he usually never pushed assignments to last minute and he then realized the reason he wasn’t done yet was because he had spent so much time over the dinner table with Kenma and you, talking even after dinner had been done for a while. You always offered to help him with the clean-up so you also spent some time talking there, drifting off to various subjects far passing the cleaning duties and sitting down again with a glass of water.

He enjoyed your company, it felt... easy, somehow, the sensation that something was off was there but it didn’t really settle in his stomach until every time after you left, as if it was left to grow a bit from a small sensation to a problem, which worried him – Kuroo prided himself as an impeccable people-reader, he was captain for both the volleyball team in high school and college, he knew how to act around business relations so well because he could read them so flawlessly – so the feelings he got from you was unsettling and unreadable and it took some control away from him – and Kuroo always felt uneasy when he wasn’t in control.

____

Kuroo heard your name and almost got whiplash from how fast his head moved towards Kenma, “what?”

“I asked if we should invite them? To game night? Being three is a little annoying in Mario Party.”

“Oooh, that’s a good idea! I’d love to see them again!” Hinata happily exclaimed before taking another bite of the lasagna Kuroo had prepared tonight. It was Saturday and Kuroo had been in a daze the entire day, first at the office for a quick meeting with his boss about a potential partner he might be able to reel in soon and then doing his laundry at Kenma’s and continuing to try and make the stupid paperwork but ultimately failing before he had to make dinner.

“Isn’t it a bit late to invite someone? I mean, they could have plans already...” Kuroo tried, knowing what a pain it could be to be asked to something an hour before it happened and he didn’t want to let you go through that – that’s what he tried to tell himself, at least. In truth? He was a bit afraid of seeing you again, afraid of his potential reactions, since he had spent his entire Friday in a stupor just thinking about you. His thoughts didn’t mean much for Kenma and Hinata though, who was already texting you to ask.  “Oi, no phones at the table, have you parents taught you no manners?” Kuroo chided and Hinata immediately shrank back and apologized – Kuroo smirked, yea the Chibi-chan still had respect for his seniors. But he was quickly pulled back to thoughts about you by Kenma’s phone lighting up again, “they’ll be here in an hour. They’re asking if they should bring anything?” Kenma looked up to gauge Kuroo’s reaction, having noticed something about his friend had been off the past few days. He immediately made a funny grimace before turning it into a smile. “Yea, they can bring a bottle of white wine, if I have to beat you all at Mario Party, I would very much like to be a tiny bit buzzed,” Kuroo said, and Hinata looked at him with wide eyes, “you drink wine!? So grown up!” Hinata exclaimed, to which Kenma just muttered, “or just an old man…” Kuroo didn’t hear that though, too busy to fidget with his hands under the table, suddenly feeling nervous that you were showing up.

Hinata plopped down between Kuroo and you with a controller in hand, “I’m gonna beat you all in this Mario Kart!” to which you laughed loudly, “good luck since we’re playing Mario Party.”

“Huh? Is there a difference?” Hinata asked, making Kuroo belt out a loud laugh as well, holding his stomach, “you just told us you’d beat us but you don’t even know what we’re playing!” Kuroo couldn’t contain his laughter for a bit until he noticed how you were looking at him and instantly retracted his laugh, sitting up straight with a cough, and apologizing for being loud, which confused him to no end. He had never been self-conscious of his own laugh! He knew it could be obnoxious and loud, but he also liked it himself, and-

“That’s a really cute laugh.”

The comment earned you the stares of the century from the three other people in the room, with Kenma in genuine shock – he wouldn’t say he disliked Kuroo’s laugh, just that it was… special.

“Uhm… Uh. Thank you?” Kuroo could feel that his blush went all the way to his ears but he hoped that the light in the living room wasn’t bright enough to catch it. “Yeah uh! Sure! Mhm,” you awkwardly coughed a bit as well before reaching for your glass of wine.

You had brought a bottle of white wine for Kuroo on the promise that you’d get a glass too, saying he was your first friend who also liked wine. The word ‘friend’ had dumb-founded him and he’d just answered “you can have it all,” to which you had laughed and said it’s fine with half, you weirdo.

The game was about to begin but Kuroo was still sitting stuck on the fact that his laugh was cute – cute? Had anyone else found it cute before besides Bokuto and his mom? He wasn’t sure – he sure couldn’t pinpoint them right now anyways. He tried to shake it off and focus on the game, though quite a bit of time was spent explaining the rules to Hinata who apparently had thought they were just playing Mario Kart.

When you were 12 laps into it, it seemed that you were set to win with your four stars and 121 coins. Kenma was right behind you with three stars and Hinata and Kuroo had been left in the dust with zero stars. You had stolen Kuroo’s first (and only) star early in the game, so he was plotting his vengeance in quiet but was getting afraid that the game would end before he could do anything to you – but just as his hopes were at the smallest during the last round of the game, you were put in the same team as him in the last mini game.

Kuroo had a wide smirk when you cheered and said, “this’ll be easy then!” because no, it would not be easy for you. If he had to go down in order to take you down a notch, then so be it. He’d rather Kenma win than you did with stolen goods!

The last mini game was “Tow the Line” where two players were put in a sewing box shaped with nine dots as a grid and two players tied together with a string and the objective was to make the shape with the string as shown in the middle of screen. As soon as the whistle sounded, Kuroo lowered his hands and stopped using his controllers, all with a big grin on his lips.

“Kuroo, what the fuck! Get moving, we’ve started!” you yelled at him as Kenma and Hinata won the first round, signaling the next round began, Kuroo started whistling and looking away from the screen, to which you got up from your seat, “fine, I’ll just take your controller and do it myself!”

Kuroo put his arm with the controller behind him, “nah-ah-ah! You’re not winning this, fiend! That’s what you get for stealing my star!” He grinned up at you with his eyes closed as you stood with your hands on your hips, “come on man! I stole that star in the fourth round! Kenma stole a star from me as well!” you tried, “maybe he stole the one that was yours, who knows! Get over it so we can win!”

But as soon as you’d said that, the third round had just been won and you sighed and flopped down on your seat again, “not cool Kuroo, not cool. I’ll remember this!”

You both laughed as the game made ready to announce the winner, Kenma and Hinata entertained by your antics.

“You can’t avenge something that I avenged in the first place! I only did it because you did me wrong, you know!”

“You can’t use logic on me, it doesn’t apply!”

To no surprise, you won the entire game, even winning one of the two bonus stars given at the end of the game.

After the last sequence and a bow from you there was a quick break before you decided to play some Mario Kart for Hinata’s sake, since his argument was that he lost due it being Party instead. You played quite a few hours and after another toilet break you had switched places with Hinata so Kenma could cuddle up against him. You yawned, drinking the last of the wine in your glass and said, “I should head home, I have a friend coming over for lunch tomorrow.”

Hinata and Kenma both started to get up to say goodnight but you waved at them with a smile, “I can walk out myself, it’s fine!” But Kuroo had already gotten up from the couch as well, so you walked with him towards the hallway where you put on your shoes. There was a comfortable silence between the two of you, which Kuroo noted and scowled a bit - he might have only known you for less than a week but for some reason he felt like it had been a lot longer, like you were old friends – it felt strange, to be so close with a stranger. He didn’t know anything about you, really. He knew your name, your job and how you liked some of your vegetables and which meat was your favorite, he knew you also loved cats but didn’t have one (he couldn’t remember if he knew why) and he felt pretty sure he would recognize you in a crowded area – why it was so intense, he was unsure of, he hadn’t tried meeting someone this way before. It had also seemed like having this game night had made you considerably more relaxed in his presence, even joking around with him instead of being polite, which made Kuroo somewhat giddy, though it didn’t really make sense to him as to why.

“I hope you had fun,” Kuroo said awkwardly, as if he had been the host and scratched the back of his head.

“Yeah, I did! I’m sorry I stole your star, though,” you laughed, buttoning your jacket.

“Nah, no worries, as they say, all’s fair in love and war, right?”

You giggled and picked up your bag from the dresser while Kuroo opened up the door for you. As you exited, you turned around with a bright smile, “well, thanks for toni-”

Everything ended up a blur, too bright, too much, too noisy, too… colorful? Kuroo was still looking into your eyes as all that went through him, completely blindsided. As he took a proper look, he could see that you looked just as surprised as him, your eyes wide but still never leaving his either.

“Is… Is this? Are you? Is…” You asked after what felt like both days and milliseconds, I could stare at them so much longer, he thought to himself, the colors only making your face more clear to him. Had you really not had eye contact at all? Had you seen each other for several hours – more than a few times, without looking each other in the eyes at all? Kuroo was more baffled by this happening so late than the fact that it was happening.

He was about to say something, anything, when you promptly turned around, nervously yelling, “I-I uh, I gotta go! Goodbye!” as you hurried out of the driveway and down towards the subway.

“W-wait!” Kuroo belatedly and unhelpfully yelled out as you turned a corner, too late. You were gone. A hand was dragged down his face as a sigh left him, what the fuck had just happened? He obviously needed to talk to you about this, but he also needed to gather his thoughts about all of this, so he slowly closed the door and went back towards the living room, greeted by Hinata and Kenma who looked up at him curiously, “why did you yell?” Hinata asked with his head tilted.

“I think I just found my soulmate.”

#haikyuu!! #kuroo tetsurou x you #kuroo tetsurou x reader #hq x reader #waaaaah im so nervous about this!!!! i basically cranked it out in less than 24hrs ngl.... i had 1.5k of beautiful words before i came u #P WITH A WHOLE OTHER PLOT!!!! :-) #if any of u get the ref of the title i love u and we need to play mp together lmao <33333 #also kenhina and tsukiyachi is mentioned! #both reader and kuroo r A MESS #stay tuned for part 2!!!!!! #nohr.writing #half the battle series #im gonna dig a hole real quick to hide in hehehe #honestly im not sure this is entirely coherent i had so much.... i wanted to force into it im afraid some of it feels out of place but!!! #here we go!! face the fear lmao!!!!

[heloisedaphnebrightmore]

Oliver Wood Masterlist by Heloise Daphne Brightmore

Harry Potter Characters Masterlist | Masterlists

All the fics are in alphabetical order, for the newest fics, please head to Recently Posted.

If you enjoy my stories, please consider donating and supporting me on Ko-fi. <3

Oliver Wood blurbs

[M] Mr. Grumpy [0.6k words]

Oliver doesn’t appreciate waking up without you, but once he has you in his arms, he makes sure you don’t forget how much he loves you.

Oliver Wood one shots 

[B] Blind to it [1.4k words]

You have liked Oliver for a while, but the boy have not shown interest in your very obvious flirting. Winning the quidditch cup, having a party, loud music and most of all alcohol, helps you question the oblivious boy.

[D] Disappointed in you [2.5k words]

Oliver is scared of one thing and one thing only. You think it would be fun to scare your boyfriend with the only thing he is scared of. But he doesn’t react the way you think he would.

Distraction [4k words]

You’re trying to build a career, concentrating only on having a successful future, avoiding love and distraction at all cost. But when love is right beside you, it makes everything more difficult.

[F] Forgive me! [2.9k words]

Oliver and you have been together for a couple of years, but a big fight before the war separates you. Both of you participate in the war, fighting with all your power against Voldemort and his allies. But will you be able to reunite before the very end?

[G] Got no shame [2.5k words]

Being the daughter of the coach of Puddlemere United gives you the opportunity to get close to the players, some even more than others. When Oliver gets injured, you don’t even care about being friends or less or more, you just need to know if he is okay.

[H] High on bravery [2k words]

You have never been a shy person, but being pumped full of pain-reliving potions might just give you the bravery you need when it comes to the Gryffindor quidditch captain.

His passion [18+] [2.4k words]

Oliver has been walking up and down the room half naked, going on and on about Quidditch for the last hour and you are losing your patience, up until you turn his attention to you.

[L] Like a fool [4.7k words]

You have fancied the Gryffindor quidditch captain so obviously, the whole school knew about it. Of course, Oliver didn’t miss to realise your feelings which you were sure he secretly returned. That was until you overheard a conversation.

Love’s healing potion [4.8k words]

For years you’ve admired Oliver silently, from afar. The Gryffindor quidditch captain is the centre of attention, meanwhile you’re rather closed off and shy around people you don’t know. But when your secret mission to help Oliver is exposed and your identity revealed, you can only do one thing. Run away.

[M] Mine [1.8k words]

Oliver is wrapped around your finger, but he doesn’t mind. He just wants to hold you and he isn’t afraid of showing it even when your friend is angrily rumbling about her crush on a boy, but even more when you try on his jersey.

Misunderstanding [3.4k words]

Your boyfriend has been distant since the beginning of your relationship, but his behaviour is getting worse, making you doubt his feelings for you and overreact things instead of communicating.

[O] Oliver Wood Fluff Alphabet [2.9k words]

Your life in every little detail with Oliver wood, including cuddles, first impression, first date, first kiss, the way he holds your hand, his view of your shared future. Oliver Wood A-Z!

Only friends? [1.7k words]

You and Oliver have been friends, but you never dared to say anything to him about your hidden feelings, worrying about losing him. But one day he comes up to you, acting unlike himself, making you worry.

[P] Perfect match [2k words]

The lack of time you had to spend with your boyfriend, Oliver affects your concentration causing your attention to wander anywhere but the match you are supposed to be focusing on.

[T] Talk to me, please! [4.2k words]

After your fight with Oliver, you decide to make him suffer a little. Unfortunately things slowly get out of hand and you don’t know how to turn things around, before you lose him.

[W] Where the soul belongs [9.6k words]

What happens when you find yourself reliving the same day over and over again? What happens when you realise you aren’t the only one? You jump into a heavy research with Oliver to find a solution to your unusual situation, only to realise things might be more complicated than you could have imagined.

[Y] Your time [1.5k words]

After your break up, you are both struggling to get over each other, but you are too hurt and he is too stubborn to take the first step.

© All rights reserved ® in regards to my characters, their behaviours and personality. I, however do not own the rights to the gifs and photos presented in the chapters, unless stated otherwise and any of the characters and story line matching the original script by J.K. Rowling and Warner Bros.

#Oliver Wood #Oliver x reader #oliver wood x reader #Oliver #Wood #oliver x reader fanfiction #oliver x reader one shot #oliver x reader imagine #Oliver x reader blurb #Oliver x reader drabble #oliver wood x reader fanfiction #oliver wood x reader imagine #oliver wood x reader one shot #oliver wood x reader blurb #oliver wood x reader drabble #oliver wood imagine #oliver wood one shot #oliver wood fanfiction #harry potter fanfiction #harry potter

[amesstm]

Prom???

Pairing: Kuroo Tetsuro x Reader

Word Count: 2K

Summary: After coming to Japan as a transfer student from America your senior year, you miss out on prom. The Nekoma volleyball team comes to cheer you up.

A/N: I come from America so this is based off of what I know about prom. I know that prom is usually an American and Canadian thing, but just imagine a big dance where people dress fancy but dance dirty on the floor lol 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Prom was the crème de la crème of every American senior’s year. Unfortunately, being a transfer student in Japan meant that you had to travel to Japan in April to start the school year. Now, you were missing out on spending prom season with your friends.

A soft sigh unwillingly escaped your throat as you sat down on the bench in the gym. You pulled out your clipboard, ready to observe any improvements made from the boys today. Since you were spending a year in Japan, you decided that you could afford being a manager for Nekoma’s volleyball team. After some convincing from Kenma, your host family’s son, you agreed. Since you had some knowledge about volleyball from watching the Summer Olympics so much, it wasn’t too difficult fully understanding the tiny details of the game.

You were so engrossed in the multiple papers you had on each member that you didn’t realize that Kuroo, the captain, sat beside you.

“What’s wrong, Y/N-chan?” He asked, his minty breath wafting your face. You turned to look at him and was met with concerned eyes that dared you to lie to him. Kuroo always knew what was wrong. Not only was he good at reading the spikers’ movements, but he could also read you just as easily.  

“Let me show you,” you replied as you reached for your phone. You unlocked it and tapped on some photos your friends sent you. They had taken the time to send pictures of prom dresses they thought were cute. Your heart ached when you remembered that you wouldn’t receive a reply until they woke up.

“Ah, it’s... prom, right?” Kuroo said before turning it into a question. You couldn’t expect him to know when most Japanese schools don’t have formal dances.

You nodded with a small pout, “Yeah, prom is very huge in America. I didn’t always want to go but going with my friends seemed really fun.”

Kuroo hummed, probably not understanding the significance of a school dance. After all, the last time he went to one was probably a festival in middle school. But the way you were pouting tugged at Kuroo’s heart.

The captain promised himself he’d focus on getting into nationals and graduate. His dreams could afford no distractions – but why was he enjoying the feeling of being sidetracked? An idea lit itself in Kuroo’s head. He knew exactly what to do.

~

After returning to school on Monday, you witnessed Kuroo act even more weird than usual. You sat behind him in advanced English, waiting for class to start. Obviously, the class was really easy so you could afford not preparing for now.  

Then, you heard murmuring from Kuroo as he hovered over a piece of paper on his desk. Peering from the side, you grumbled that you couldn’t see what he was muttering. His broad shoulders were definitely useful on the court for blocking, but now they were blocking your view.

“Kuroo-san, what are you doing?”  

Your sudden voice must’ve surprised him, because he jumped in his desk and quickly hid the paper. The whites of his eyes were as clear as day and his mouth was still agape. Something clicked in your head.  

“Was that a...” You raised a finger and pulled out your phone to look up the right words. “Was that a dirty note?”

A rush of hyena laughter met your ears, causing everyone to look at you two. You looked up from your phone to see Kuroo hunched over from laughing so hard. You rolled your eyes as he forced himself to calm down, heaving all the while.

“Why? Are you curious, Y/N-chan?” He asked, with his eyebrows wiggling at you. He teased in a manner that could be interpreted in a manner that needed no translation. All you did was blink at him. He whined, “Don’t look at me like that. You look like Kenma when you do that.”

“Kenma taught me well,” you replied, sticking your tongue out. “So, what was that paper?”

“O-oh, I’m just preparing something,” Kuroo said, scratching the back of his neck. A soft pink tinged his cheeks and his eyes averted from yours.  

How suspicious, but cute.

You shrugged, he’d surely tell you what it was sooner or later. Besides, the arrival of the teacher meant you couldn’t pester Kuroo for an answer now.  

Soon, the school day ended with Kuroo still acting odd(er than usual). Kenma found you by your locker to begin your usual walk to the gym after school. Despite attending Nekoma for a month now, you still managed to lose yourself in the big halls. Hence, Kenma was your personal guide unless you two had different classes – aka you two never saw each other except for lunch.  

Once you were finished, Kenma and you walked towards the gym. “Are you excited for practice, Kenma?”

As usual, his short answer was: “No.”

You chuckled, “One day, there’ll be a reason you’re excited for volleyball.”

“Doubt it,” he murmured in return.

A comfortable silence settled between you two. Kenma tapped away on his game and you enjoyed the last bits of sakura season. Sure, the pollen gave you sinus headaches but the photo shoot you had when you first came here was worth it.  

A small trail of sakura flowers led to the entrance of the gym. You joked, “Someone must like sakura flowers.”

Kenma sneezed softly and muttered. “He’s lucky that I like him.”

You raised an eyebrow, about to ask what he meant, until Kenma opened the doors. Upon entering the gym, there was a center of sakura flowers accumulated in the middle. With a grin, Kuroo held up a sign that said: The only flower I want to take to prom is you. ♡

The bold, red letters in English were written with a shaky hand until touched up by someone more confident. Sakura flowers were carefully drawn and colored it, with patches of glitter thrown here and there.  

“Awh, is this for me, Kuroo?” You asked, a smile bursting onto your face. You raised your hands to your face, shielding yourself from the cameras that were pulled out to record.  

Kuroo nodded with a proud smile on his face. You approached him, unsure what to do. After all, this was the first time someone made such an effort into asking you out. “I don’t know if I did this right. I saw some videos of ‘promposals’ on YouTube, but I don’t-”

“This is perfect,” you said, quieting him by putting a finger to his lips. Then, the manager in you began to think logically about how this ‘prom’ would be pulled off. “W-wait, how are you going to do this dance?”

“Don’t worry, I got it covered,” Kuroo smiled confidently, raising a thumb at himself.

~

“Kenma, have you ever went shopping for anything but video games or food?” You asked, as you two drifted to a dress shop that Kenma’s mom had to recommend. Clearly, Kenma knew nothing about these types of shops until you asked him where they would be.  

“Only if Kuroo drags me along to get sports gear,” he said with a shrug. His eyes were glued to a game, but he was still able to reply to you as if he gave you his absolute attention. You could never understand how he has yet to walk into a pole, either.

You shrugged, “Makes sense.”

Upon entering the shop, you two were immediately met with rows on rows of dresses. Drawn by a magnetic pull, you flew towards a section containing your favorite color. Eyes glimmering with the giddiness of a kid in a candy shop, you placed your hand on the silky material.

The best part? It had pockets.

Grinning, you asked a worker if you could try it on. Kenma mindlessly followed you to wait outside the changing rooms. The straps were a bit difficult to sort through; otherwise, it fit like a glove. You stepped out of the fitting room, and called Kenma to attention.

After he paused his game, Kenma looked up. His usual cat eyes widened slightly. “You look pretty.”

You beamed, “Should I get it then?”

Kenma nodded rigorously. Underneath his breath, too low for you to hear, he murmured, “Kuroo will like it a lot.”

~

The volleyball team managed to secure the gym for the event and decorated it to the fullest. You don’t know how they did it in such little time. The lights were dimmed except for some lights that you recognized from Kenma’s set up in his room. Little things here and there were objects that you remember the boys talking about in previous conversations.  

Coach Nekomata smiled kindly as you entered. “You look beautiful, Y/N-san.”

“Thank you, coach,” you replied. “Thank you for doing this, too. I know it must’ve been a lot of work.”

“Oh, it wasn’t! Kuroo set it all up and I just watched,” the old man replied with a hearty laugh straight from his chest.  

You blushed. Kuroo kept his promise. He said he would make it happen and it did. Speaking of which, your date had come prepared from the coach’s room. A small box was in his hands.  

Unlike Kuroo’s usual, confident swagger, he seemed timid as he approached you. “I-I also saw that prom dates give this to each other.”

He opened the box, revealing a beautiful corsage that matched perfectly with your dress.  

“How did you know my dress would look like this? I wanted it to be a surprise.” You pouted.

Kuroo blinked, “Kenma sent me a photo.”

You also blinked. Then you looked to the traitor pudding-head beside the rooster. “KYANMA!”

Blood rushed to your cheeks and you hid behind your hands once more. You murmured, “Ah, I was in my natural state.”

“You’re breath-taking, don’t hide yourself from me,” Kuroo whispered into your ear, hints of a smile in his voice.

Now you were definitely red and about to burst. You laughed, “You’re just saying that.”

“I don’t give away compliments for no reason.” His genuine smile melted away the insecurities that bubbled to the surface. With your facial expression softening, he took the cue to lead you to the dance floor.  

The different colored lights cascaded to drape Kuroo in beautiful lighting. Red was truly his color, as his face was shaded with the hue. Something about the mood shifted as his hands made their way to your waist.  

Deciding to take the lead, Kuroo swung you two back and forth. The song was slow, so he adjusted as needed to match the beat. Should you have told them that American proms were basically fancy clubs with promiscuous music? Probably; although Coach Nekomata would definitely not approve.  

Oh well, I can grind on Kuroo later. Wait -  

“Hey, my eyes are up here,” Kuroo chuckled as he lifted your face to look up at him.

You pouted with a glare, “I-I wasn’t looking at you like that!”

“You wish you were,” Kuroo laughed as your eyes widened.

“Why are you like this?” You scoffed with a roll of your eyes.  

“But you like me, don’t you?” He smirked as his eyes danced with mischief.  

Okay Sky-Daddy, please kill me. As if Kuroo read your face, he hastily said, “Don’t worry, I like you, too.”

Your breath hitched, “But I’ll have to go back to America, Kuroo.”

“I know. Trust me, I know,” Kuroo sighed. “But in the little time that I’ve known you, I’ve already started to like you. Heck, it feels dangerous.”

“I don’t want to start something that might end on other sides of the globe,” you admitted.  

Kuroo’s eyes drooped, “I know.”

“But I want to try,” you reassured. How could you possibly express yourself in a different language right now? Then, you remembered the phrase. It couldn’t be directly translated to English, but the feeling was universal. “It’s like ‘koi no yokan’.”  

Kuroo grinned with a soft laugh, “Exactly. So, we’ll try dating?”

“Yes, Kuroo,” you affirmed with a smile gracing your features.  

“Call me Tetsu.”

#kuroo testuro #kuroo tetsuro x reader #kuroo x reader #kuroo x you #kuroo tetsuro x you #kuroo tetsurou #kuroo #fluff #haikyuu!! #haikyuu #haikyu kuroo #haikyuu x reader

[notmrskennedy]

Professor, pt 1

A/N - so i heard from like four of you which is enough to warrant me posting drafts that weren’t supposed to see the light of day - ANYWAY this was originally written in third person and let me tell you it takes a ridiculous amount of effort to change tenses like holy hell. 

(Technically the prequel Friendliness but can stand alone if you really want it to. There’s a part two to this so watch out for that tomorrow.)

Summary - Spencer meets a professor and falls in love for a few hours

W/C - 2k

Warnings - none-ish? there’s a small smattering of violence and horrible changing of the tenses 

-----

Spencer can’t help the irony that he’s in a freshman college class for the first time ever while protecting one of the students. Who knew that a tiny club of DnD players could incite so much rage out of an un-sub? So here he was, trying to blend in—even though he’s 25, he still looks 14 and there’s really no real reason why he should be worried about being caught—in order to protect a freshman who was more pimple than male specimen. 

Joesph—the poor kid in question—takes a seat in the front row and Spencer’s obligated to sit within tackling distance, though he hopes it won’t come to that. Hopefully, Morgan will have the kid the un-sub goes for and Spencer can just enjoy being in college again. The painfully familiar auditorium seats, the stale air, and bad fluorescents feel more like home than he cares to admit. 

College hadn’t been all too unpleasant. High school he’d gotten picked on mercilessly. College, however, had meant getting doted on by hot sorority girls and earning the protection of frat boys—they’d picked up rather quickly that he knew football strategy better than they did after Spencer had hustled a TV and 400 dollars from them. Sure, he didn’t drink, but every single drunk teenager had welcomed him with open arms and lots of ginger ale. 

There’s chatter and for the ten minutes before class starts, Spencer is torn between trying to figure out which song is quietly playing around the room and watching for a particularly rage-filled college student serial killer. Instead, he just finds too many bored faces. Most of the kids are drinking coffee like the best of them and he’s itching for his next fix just looking at it. 

The first two rows: a terrible vantage point to be profiling, but a beautifully defensible post. He watches absently as one of the TAs, who looks a little younger than him, organizes three stacks of papers on the front desk and flips through several different pages on the podium. His attention is focused solely on you for nearly a minute too long—he can hear the voice in his head chastising him for how often he gets distracted by pretty people. 

You look of the fragile sort, the in-the-lab kind of future scientist. There’s something about you that’s captivating. It might be the way you keep reorganizing the papers to perfection or maybe it’s the way you study the room so closely. And while he thinks that you might not be able to physically stop someone, you sure look like the kind of person that could crush him in chess. 

He’s 25 and is considering chess as a marriage proposal.  

Joesph shuffles his books around in the seat in front of Spencer and you, the beautiful TA in question, hold a watch up as you move to the centre of the room. Class is starting. Class is starting and he’s hopeful the professor never actually shows up. 

He notices your watch is on your right wrist—are you left handed?—as you smile widely and clap her hands together. First day jitters seem to keep everyone silent, waiting on baited breath for you to start. Spencer would stay on baited breath for the rest of his life for you. You were utterly captivating after all—he could see the drool from several students’ mouths a few seats over. 

“This is Anthropology 101,” you announce. “If this isn’t your class, you’re free to leave. Or stay if you want. Did you guys know that anxiety disorders affect more than 40 million US adults? Or 1 in 5, I guess, if you want the easier pill to swallow.”

Spencer’s heart jumps into his throat and he wants to raise his hand just to ask you to marry him. 

“Anyway,” you sigh, leaning back agains the front desk, “I spit out a lot of facts. Usually something that begins with ‘did you know’ won’t be on the tests. I try to be fair. Which brings us to ice breakers.”

The class collectively groans. You scoff. 

“Oh hush, I’m the only one doing the ice breakers so chill out. Jeez.” Spencer waits patiently for your soft breath and then your further announcement of, “I’m officially Dr. Y/N Y/L/N, but that���s like only if my boss comes in or for any emails you send. You can call me Y/N because that’s like normal. I got my doctorate in forensic anthropology a year ago and I’ve been teaching since I started grad school three years ago. You’re in safe hands, I promise.”

He almost kicks himself. You’re the professor. How many times had he been nearly kicked out of a classroom when he was in grad school for saying he was the professor? How many times had he been 18 and trying to get an ounce of respect for himself? 

You continue, waving your hands about like you could pull your ideas back down to earth. “Um—a fun fact about me is that I am not welcome in certain parts of the world for ‘violating’ what are called exhumation laws, which is silly in my opinion. I had the legal right to carry that head on the plane and—and I hope you did the reading because there’s a first day pop quiz.”

The entire class lets out one simultaneous frustrated whine that alights something almost wicked in your eyes. You wave over two students from the other end of the front row and they begin passing out test papers as you explain. 

“You’ll have a total of fifteen minutes to answer ten questions. We’ll start on my mark. If you have any trouble, give me a shout and I’ll help you out. After this, we’ll go over the syllabus and if you’re lucky, leave early.”

Spencer’s passed a test and immediately notices there’s no place for a name. Just a bolded “Student #21” at the top. Another girl raises the question and you snicker. “I like puzzles,” is the only answer you give before the time starts. 

Question four: what are the top three songs you’ve been listening to? Please list.

Question six: why are you taking this class?

A: This is a requirement

B: I heard it was easy

C: I heard the professor was hot

D: I really enjoy anthropology! (liar)

Question nine: Creationism or Evolution?

Question ten: Quickly. If you were going to have dinner, would it be with Bill or Hillary Clinton?

Spencer can’t hide the grin he’s got the entire test. It’s all ridiculous get-to-know-you questions. He can tell what merit you’re getting out of them. There’s one judging study habits, one judging religion, feminism, politics—you’ve created her own little innocuous questionnaire. Spencer was sure the students would just think you were strange, but he saw the cleverness. 

Spencer also notices that once you notice him, you don’t stop noticing him. He wonders what you see. You’re so obviously profiling him that it hurts. Do you see the FBI agent? The scholar? The doctor? The drug addict? The man in a boy’s skin?

Your timer beeps and you shout for pencils down. Your makeshift TAs are dispatched to collect the papers and you make the stacks perfect when they make it to the desk. You move to the whiteboard, a set of papers clutched in your hand, and lean against it to address the class. 

“Test go alright?” your grin is contagious and Spencer can’t help but mirror it. You glance at Spencer, turns back to the class, and tuck your hair behind your ear. You let the class chatter on for a moment, setting the papers down on the table, and readjust the undone cuffs of your white button down. He never thought that a sweater vest and jeans could look so hot. 

You smirk and check your watch one more time. “Let’s talk about tests because I know you all have questions. Everything on the test is either written on the board, on the notes, or in the study guide—if you fail after that, come to office hours. I’ve got Advil for the hangovers.”

#

Thankfully, Joesph is one of those students who has to speak to every single one of his professors. Spencer waits patiently behind the kid, trying to keep the smell from the lack of deodorant just out of range. 

He keeps a hard gaze on all of the students moving in and out of the auditorium. There’s nothing to see, just a lot of students with a lot of normal college apathy. No anger, no serial killer, no one to tackle. 

“Sometimes the BO is worse than a corpse’s expulsion of gas,” you joke from your place atop the desk. Spencer looks up, and furrows his eyebrows as his brain processes. Your face falls for a split second, but your curiosity replaces it just as quickly. Joesph’s jaw hits the floor, stumbling for some way to explain himself or maybe some half decent way to insult the pretty professor. 

Spencer laughs, probably a little more than he should have, considering he wasn’t supposed to out himself as an FBI agent. You tuck your hair behind your ear again and, for someone younger than 25, you are surprisingly wide eyed with perception and curiosity. 

“Do you like puzzles, Doctor—“

“Reid,” he supplies, trying to swallow around the lump in his throat. “Spencer.”

You raise an eyebrow, chewing on your bottom lip in contemplation. You turn your focus back to Joesph—a boy worse at talking to those scoring higher than an 8 than Spencer was at the same age. “So, Joesph, why does the good doctor need to be within tackling distance of you?”

Joesph flounders, turns to hide his blush, and yelps like God himself has come down to kick him in the ass. Spencer takes one good look at the 18 year old girl charging towards a pimple of a boy and he launches before he can give much consideration to how much its going to hurt. 

But between the noticing and the launching, he makes a list: she’s got so much black eyeliner that Emily’s high school yearbook photos would be jealous; she’s about to inflict about a 9 on the pain scale if she’s left to her plan; there’s obviously no plan other to scratch Joesph’s eyes out; her nails are the size of tiger claws and Spencer desperately wishes he had a better pain tolerance; there’s no weapon. 

The tackle takes seconds. It’s a practised movement. Roll. Knee. Handcuffs. The girl is screaming and crying and kicking and biting. His arm’s on fire and she’s struggling enough that it’s taking more than ten seconds to get the handcuffs on. 

It’s calculated as he presses his knee harder into her back. She yelps and stills long enough that Spencer closes the handcuffs on her tiny, sliced up wrists. The cutting explains some things…

“Hence the tackling distance,” You sum up, bending down just slightly to look the killer in the face. Your nose wrinkles. “You had very distinct ideas on the cultural value of suicide.”

Spencer shakes his head, hauls the girl to her feet, and beckons for Joesph to follow. The entire world falls out of view as he manhandles the girl into an easy walk. The students step to the side to gawk, and he’s thankful for the wide berth. If someone got hurt, the paperwork alone—

“It was nice meeting you, Dr. Reid!” you call and he glances back over his shoulder. You’re waving around the stack of papers in your arms, utterly ridiculous, terribly adorable. He hopes his smile is more suave than love sick, but the fleeting flirtation is especially over when Miss Unchecked Rage kicks out as Joesph comes into her line of sight. 

Spencer throws his whole weight into keeping her down. There’s no room to fall in love after a day. Especially with someone on a college campus halfway across the country from him. There’s even less room to manoeuvre Miss Eyeliner even without Joesph waddling into her eye line every few seconds. Seriously, he thinks, how hard is it to keep behind me?

#spencer reid #dr spencer reid #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid x reader #reid #reid x reader #spencer reid x y/n #reid x y/n #spencer reid x you #Criminal Minds #criminal minds fanfiction #spencer reid fanfiction

[alexwritesfiction]

heaven

word count: 2k

tw // mcd

A/N: This is an emotional scene so take care lmao

I take a deep breath and step up on the alter, my nerves wracking. Anxiety sets in, the only question on mind as to where Xavier could be. And what did Aleander mean by gift?

As more time passes by, the looks on our families’ faces grow worried, making me even more nauseated. I can't believe he's late on our wedding day. As pissed off as I am, i can't help but want to call him and make sure he's alright. A bad feeling sets itself in my stomach. I'm gonna kill him.

“Where is he?” I almost growl at Ray, who’s standing just a few feet away from the steps.

“I don’t know, Cath,” he whispers in a shaky voice, and I know he's freaking out too. Xavier means so much to him, he knows that today was important to him. I can tell by his face that he can't comprehend why he wouldn’t be here on time.

I try to calm myself down, to not think about worst case scenarios, but my mind is a haze.

A ringtone cuts through the air and I can feel it in my heat that it's him. I sigh in relief.

Everyone’s eyes whips to Mom, who has my phone in her clutch. Her eyes widen as she frantically takes it out, almost stumbling as she tries to reach me.

I hurry to her and snatch it out of her hands, my fiancé’s name flashing on the screen with our photo from the baking session. My fingers shake as I look up to see everyone desperately waiting for me to pick the call. My fingers slide across the screen and the phone is barely put to my ear before I hear his faint voice.

“Principessa, how are you?” a small but firm voice speaks through the line. That’s all he's got to say? He's late and he's asking me how I am? My tolerance shoots through the roof as I try not to blow up.

“Xav, where are you right now? I'm here literally standing at the altar and you're not here and the officiant—” I rush out, only to be cut off.

“This is goodbye, baby,” he chokes out in a broken voice, and I try to imagine his face right now but I can't. my heart stops. Freezes for a second before completely dropping to my knees. The thing that scares me the most about this is that his voice is as serious as anything and I know he isn’t joking. He didn’t call me by my nickname, he just said goodbye.

A lightheaded feeling takes over my mind as I try to form a complete sentence to reply to him. I can't breathe, there's a heaviness in my chest that won't go away.

“What— Xav, what,” I stutter out. A beat passes before a small “no” falls from my lips and I feel everyone around me tense. I don’t have the mind to look at them and all I can concentrate on is how he just said goodbye.

“Marry me, principessa? Right now?”

And that does it, a tear escapes my eyes and I lose my cool. My ohone almost falls from my grip but I tighten it in my hand so much that I feel my knuckles turning white. I walk back up to the altar, I feel safe there. I wipe awy the stray tear and set my face into a firm expression , failing to let it seem like my soul didn’t just escape me.

“Get your ass down here, Xav, or I swear to god I'll hunt you down right now,” I almost growl out, and I hear a faint chuckle. I feel Ray pacing around and I look up at hik to see him on a phone call. I can hear him telling someone to find out where he is. He runs out to his car and I divert my attention back to him.

“Ray’s coming to get you, Xav. What’s going on?” I croak out, no longer able to hold back the desperation in my voice. I tremble as I speak, and Tahlia comes up behind me, placing a hand on my shoulder. I barely register to shoot her a grateful look but his next words break me.

“I'm so sorry, principessa, always and forever,” he says in a soothing voice, God darn it, Xav. It's only then that I register what’s happening. He promised to never say goodbye, and now he is. He promised he’d never go away and now I feel like he is. He said he’ll only ever say goodbye when of us is taking our last breaths when were old and wrinkly and he's saying it right now and I'm losing my control.

“No!” I exclaim, “I'm not letting you die on me, Xav! I won't! Don’t you even dare, you can't do this to me,” I say loudly, hating how my voice cracks at the end.

“Principessa, I accept you to forever be mine, and that youll forever live in my heart. I take you to be my wife till death do us apart. I do, Cath. Do you—”

He just said his vows.

“Yes! God yes, Xav. You don’t get to do this to me! This isn’t how it's supposed to work! We were supposed to have this…this magical ending and we were supposed to take on the world and you weren’t supposed to do this, Xav,” I cry.

We just got married, and he's not here

“We don’t always get our happy end, do we? And you, principessa, you were the biggest happiness of my life,” he says, sniffling. I can't hear him cry, haven't heard him since his mother’s death anniversary. It's unreal, to see him unravel. I don’t like how he's using past tense, like he's already not there.

“Xav, no, please, I love you so much, come back here, hold on a little while, baby, you’ll be okay,” I choke out. I feel numb, like everything arounf me has turned into thi air and I'm alone, holding on to his voice like it's life support.

“I love you, Catherine Lily North,”

“I love you, Xavier Lee Blackheart,”

“Catherine Lily North, I love you,” he says with a huge smile on his face. My heart beats out of my chest as I try to comprehend what he just said. As reality sinks in, I mirror his smile, clutching his hand. “I love you, Xavier Lee Blackheart,” I say, and his eyes widen. I guess he didn’t expect me to say it back because the next thing I know, he's pressing his lips to mine.

His unruly breathing makes its way to my ears as he doesn’t reply, making me grip onto Tahlia’s hand, almost crushing her fingers. It's a miracle I'm still standing. I let go of her hand and bunch up my gown’s clothing, like it's somehow gonna take me to him.

His breathing shallows, and my mind almost bursts in panic.

“Xav? Xav! Stay with me! Please, babe, I won't be able to do this without you, I can't,”

“Yes, you can, principessa—”

“Not without you! Never without you, please. I need you here with me, right by my side, holding my hand, Xav,” I beg him to stay, but it's like my plea falls on deaf ears.

He doesn’t say anything, and his breathing keeps getting fainter and fainter, until he cracks the silence.

“I hope you know I fought for you, my love,” he whispers. He seems to calm down from the high of pessimistic things and it makes a small ray of hope shine through me.

“I know you did,” I say, but something tells me he isn’t just talking about with his father.

“I got your lillies,” he says. I can detect the small smile on his face as he laughs softly. He bought me lilies, for my middle name, for my wedding day. For us.

Memories flashes through my mind and I let go of my dress I was clutching on, flicking it back and forth in anxiety.

“Remember what I said about last words, principessa?” he voice suddenly reappears, his words striking a memory and making my heart race.

“i’ve always wanted my last words to be your name,” he says, a serene smile on his face as he strokes me cheek, before leaning in and pressing a small kiss to my forehead. I giggle, feeling all the peace in the world right here with me.

“Yes…Xavier, NO, nope, not happening. We are not doing this right now. Xavier, listen to me,” I choke out, shaking my head frantically, holding onto the officiant’s desk for support.

A long inhale follows, like he's struggling to breathe. Struggling to stay.

“Principessa,” he says, with a sudden franticness in his voice that makes me almost fall over the edge. His breathing softens.

“Xav—”

His breathing stops. Terminates. Discontinues.

And he dies.

“Xavier!” I scream out, my throat rough. I want to shout out at the heavens, I want to kill the people who killed him, I want to freaking destroy the planet for bringing our story such an ill fate. I want to do so much, but I can't.

I can't, because he's not here. I can't, because he's gone. Because he’ll never be here again.

My hand loses its grip on the desk and I collapse, the call falling from my hand. My knees crumble and I fall to the ground as violent sobs wrack my body, refusing to stop. I vividly feel someone putting theIr arms around me, and I just fall onto them, my eyes closing. I want nothing more to see him

To feel him one last time. To tell him I love him. To hug him, to kiss him until we’re dazed. To spend forever with him.

My numbness leaves and I feel everything all at once, a whirlwind of emotions staggering me with their force and I can do nothing more than wail and cry. I feel the force of the universe weighing me down and I physically can't get away. My mind claws at me and I cry out in pain, thrashing out at anything that comes in my vicinity.

My wedding dress that he picked out for me with adoration in his eyes comes to bite me and I want nothing more than to feel him with me again. To rip this dress in half but also treasure it forever.

I hit the ground and then gently run my hands on it like it’s Xavier’s face. I cradle him in my mind and it’s like the earth has shattered beneath me. It tears me apart that I just lost a part of myself to heaven.

The darkness around me becomes so much that overcome with love and grief that when I finally close my eyes and surrender myself to darkness, I only see him everywhere.

Him. Everywhere.

———

How you like that? XD

taglist:

@petitpancakes @skinni-ciggis @bubblegum18 @cbfjdx @fckingpernico @dumbsouvenir @i-like-5sos @heartbreakgirlisagoodsongcalum @neptune-falls @metanoiamorii @thescatteredscribbles @little-boats-on-a-lake @talesofsorrowandofruin @w-l-ink @baguettethebooklover @euphoniouspandemonium @wannabeauthorzofija @lady-of-himring @the-writing-avocado @ink-fireplace-coffee @your-local-book-worm345

#DONT KILL ME #my works #my writing #heaven #excerpts #excerpts by me #xavier #am writing #writeblr #short story #epilogue scene

[bubbashawn]

Honey

author: Here’s my first completed request!! Also this is day 7 or 8 of me posting in a row so I’m patting myself on the back. Hope y’all like it and yes it mentions the “pr” stunt w/ Camila so don’t attack me

synopsis: You overhear something you should’ve known all along. But why does Shawn care? He’s the one who threw 5 years away. Throw in a New Year’s Eve Party and everything is bound to go haywire.

warning: requested by anon. Forgive me I swore lol but really it falls in my brand so 2k of angst to fluff :)

“Baby, I love you.”

“Yeah well maybe you should’ve thought about that before Miami!”

“It’s all a PR stunt, Y/N. I don’t get it! Why is this such a big deal to you? That all means shit to me! You know that!”

“Because you didn’t tell me, Shawn,” your eyes started watering but you ignored them, “because I had to explain to my family why your tongue was down some other girls throat and I didn’t know how to because you didn’t tell me!”

Shawn knew a fake relationship would go haywire, he knew that he wouldn’t be able to love you right if he was pretending to love some other girl. Shawn knew what would happen and yet here he was. Standing, begging, in front of you to stay with him because he didn’t think he could ever lose you.

“Honey, you know I love you.”

“Saying I love you isn’t going to fucking fix anything!”

It was true. He loved you so much that he didn’t consider that you’d end things, not when you were so in love with each other. His stupid ego was causing havoc while you cried in his kitchen with your key resting on his counter.

You loved him too much. This hurt too much.

You had that key since he first bought his condo, he remembered the two of you moving him out of his family home. You also used to have a key for there. The two of you had met back in Pickering before Handwritten, before Vine even and your relationship had guided the two of you through your rising fame. You were the one constant in his life, his love for you the only thing keeping him grounded through it all.

“I’m done. I won’t be made a fool and the paparazzi probably will be here soon, so I’m just going to leave.”

“Y/N…”

“Bye Shawn, have a nice life.”

You felt arms shift around your waist and your eyes snapped open. It was just a dream. Except it wasn’t because it wasn’t Shawn’s arms wrapped around you or his cologne covered pillow your head rested on. It was your boyfriend’s.

Not Shawn’s.

Collin must have noticed you shift in his bed because his crystal eyes were staring down at you. He had the sharpest blue eyes you had ever seen, a stark contrast to the familiar hazel.

Collin Bradford had been perfect.

He was what any girl like you could dream of. He wasn’t famous which was foremost the best because you didn’t have to deal with a rivalry about who’s better. He understood your strange hours and never complained about the red carpets or photographers. He was happy to let you take the spotlight. ENews was obsessed with him, not that you blamed them, Collin was by far the most attractive man you had been with since Shawn.

Collin Bradford had been perfect, until he wasn’t.

Once he got comfortable in the relationship he started letting all the new attention get to his head. He became flirty and arrogant. He was the golden boy of Hollywood and he always claimed to love you, so you let him stay in your life. When the cheating scandal happened you let him back in. And the 2 after that. Funny how you let him make you seem like a fool when you’d broken Shawn’s heart for the same reason.

“You okay?”

“Yeah, yeah, sorry. What time is it?”

“Almost 6. Do you need to get up?”

“Mmm,” you hummed in agreement, “I’ve got that interview with Spanish Vogue in three hours.”

Carol, your stylist, would kill you if you weren’t sitting in front of her within the next hour. You rose to your feet ignoring the ache that Shawn always massaged out of your back.

“Want an espresso?”

“No, don’t bother,” you smiled back at him, “let at least one of you enjoy a morning in bed.”

“Want to get me one?”

“Sure thing.”

“You’re the best Baby,” his face was hidden in his phone before you could say another word. That was his way of saying he’s done with this conversation.

You walked out of the bedroom and hurried to make your boyfriend his drink before scurrying back to place it by his head. He didn’t acknowledge you.

“We have Hailey Bieber’s New Year’s Eve Party tonight. You still want to come?”

“Yeah, yeah, I’ll be there.”

You were out the door by 6:10, accustomed to the tight schedule. It was two and a half hours when you noticed a 6’2” frame with curly hair towering over you. You didn’t dare look up until you saw his swallow tattoo emitting an unwanted gasp from your throat. Carol looked at you weirdly but your eyes were trained on pointed Chelsea boots that were hesitantly shuffling towards your seated figure.

“Y/N,” he sounded the same, honey smooth like the rest of him, “Y/N?”

Your gaze lifted from the ground where he stood, up his body and past the undone buttons of his shirt until you stopped on the hazel eyes from your distant memories.

“Hey.”

“Wow, Hi,” he was staring, “it’s been what, 2 years?”

“Just about. 2 years at the end of next month.”

Shawn didn’t pay attention to the nervous quake in your voice and if he did he didn’t make any moves to soothe your mind. He just remained mere feet away and looking down at you.

You hated that you could see the love behind his irises. He had put you through so much even after you left. Shawn hadn’t broken up with Camila for another 8 months after yours. That’s why you didn’t run back to him.

“Wha-what’re you doing here?”

“Oh, um I have an interview about my new work.”

“I heard about that. Congratulations by the way.”

“Thanks.”

He was still staring and watched you shift off the chair to stand before him. Shawn wasn’t paying mind to how close you two actually were until the air between you was mixing. You took his breath away, literally.

“Are you still with that asshole, Charles?”

“Charles? You mean Collin?”

“Yeah, I guess.”

“Then yes, yes I am.”

“Why? Didn’t he cheat on you?”

“Keeping tabs on me?”

He was growing frustrated with your stubbornness.

“Believe it or not, I still love you, Y/N. And I hate seeing you get hurt, especially by some guy who doesn’t deserve you!”

“And who deserves me? You? Shawn, the whole reason I was in this relationship to start was to get you out of my head,” your eyes were tearing up just like that night years ago, “because believe it or not, you hurt me first.”

Carol, bless her soul, gave an apologetic smile towards Shawn for interrupting your conversation and began walking you towards your interview.

“Honey, you okay?”

You nodded your head trying to piece your mind together before some poor interviewer talked to you.

“It was hard not to listen in,” she smiled softly, “but if you want my thoughts, I think he was telling the truth.”

You looked into her eyes searching for answers that you already knew.

“He loves you, Y/N, and I think you love him too.”

With one final look to make sure her observations got through to you, Carol opened the door and guided you towards your manager.

The interview went fine and before you know it, it was over. You spaced out one too many times, you were sure, but it was over and done with. A photo shoot followed so you would have a cover image on Spanish Vogue and before you knew it the sun was setting.

After a long day filled with too many people and the run-in with Shawn, the last thing on your mind was New Years. You had honestly forgotten about it until you got a slew of texts all talking about the plans for the evening. Everyone was going to show up around 10 and the night would progress from there.

You, however, wouldn’t leave the Vogue building until 11:20.

“Your dress is in the car so you’ll have to change in the back which is why I made sure the car would have a partition. And Collin can help you, okay?”

Collin would not be helping if you had a say in anything.

“Thank you, Carol, enjoy the holiday!”

“You too.”

You slipped into the Bentley waiting by the glass doors ignoring the flashes of cameras. And quickly pulled your dress from the door before turning to your boyfriend expectantly.

“Go up to the passenger seat.”

“It’s not like I haven’t seen you strip before,” he chuckled, eyeing the silky minidress in your hand, “is that even a full dress? Like I’m actually going to let you walk out of here in that.”

“Go to the fucking front and you haven’t had a worthy opinion about anything in the last 8 months because you cheated on me so get out.”

He glared at you but didn’t have any excuse. What could he say to you? Sorry? Collin hopped out ignoring the questions and the shouts about his scandals and sat in the front next to your driver. He glowered even more, if that’s possible, when the divider screen went up.

The party was in full blast by the time you had arrived. With only ten minutes until midnight everyone was bustling to reach their lover or any stranger with a decent pair of lips. Everyone was drunk, and if not absolutely hammered then tipsy. Not one person was standing without leaning on something for support.

“Collin, I’m ge-”

Your boyfriend who was minutes ago standing behind you was now leaning against the kitchen counter between some pretty girl’s thighs. His lips sipping from her solo cup before latching on her neck. Shocker.

Shawn was surely the only person aware of his surroundings and though no one else paid mind to you slipping into the party looking absolutely gorgeous except him. No one noticed the asshole behind you sneaking off to fuck some model. No one noticed your unsurprised yet hurt expression.

No one noticed except him.

He’d be lying to say he hadn’t been watching the front door since he arrived, looking for your familiar face. He was elated when you walked through the door because despite the fact that every time you two spoke it resulted in a fight, he still missed you. Had Shawn been a man with any common sense he would’ve shut down the whole pr relationship concept before it even became a possibility. But he hadn’t and then he lost the most important person in his life.

10

He made his way through the crowd offering friendly greetings to the drunk party goers before he was standing feet away from you again.

9

This time however your eyes didn’t shy away like they had earlier that day. No, they watched his gaze flicker across your entire being drinking you in.

8

“Hi,” your voice was breathless.

7

“Hey,” his hands found your waist.

6

“Are you drunk?”

5

“No,” he smiled before repeating your question back at you, already knowing the answer.

4

“Are you drunk?”

3

“No.”

2

“Good.”

1

Shawn’s lips were pressed against your own and he tasted the same as when he was 16. It was like his eyes, pure honey, just so undeniably sweet. You wondered how you didn’t wander back to him like an addict during your 2 years of deprivation.

“Happy New Years, Baby.”

His mouth latched to yours again not wanting to pull apart longer than he had to.

“We still,” you whimpered when your lips separated again as he looked down at you, “we still have to talk about this. About us.”

“As long as there is an us, I’ll talk to you forever. And you have to break things off with that asshole.”

“Mmhmm,” you hummed against his lips.

“You’re my honey. You’re my sweet, sweet honey.”

“You sure you aren’t drunk?”

“Not drunk,” he couldn’t help but smile against your lips, “just happy. Really fucking happy.”

permanent tag list: @wholesomemendes @fallinallincurls @ashwarren32 @mendesficsxbombay @haute-shawn @turtoix @prncsnee @http-isabela

#shawn mendes #shawn mendes fluff #shawn mendes story #shawn peter raul mendes #shawn mendes best friend #masterlist #shawn mendes smut #i love you #shawn mendes oneshot #three days in a row #shawnblr #three pointer #and i love him #and i love this #connor brashier imagines #icons #shawn mendes fan fic #shawn mendes fan fiction #shawn mendes fanfiction #shawn mendes imagine

[maybankiara]

PHONE SWAP (DREW STARKEY)

01: NICE TO MEET YOU

summary: Addie Mallory is just your average economics student when she meets Drew Starkey at her local Target in Atlanta. This is where the story is supposed to end – a short meeting and a picture to go – except Drew accidentally leaves with the wrong phone, and the story begins, instead.

w/c: 2k

a/n: it’s finally here! the first chapter! this one is written as real life and introduces us to our three main characters. let me know what you think! also, this is in no way affiliated with either drew or creators of obx. if you want to be on the taglist, either shoot me a message/ask, or fill out the tag list form!

series masterlist | tag list

read on wattpad

Addie thinks she must be wrong. Of all places, he can’t be here.

  It all begins with Addie’s roommate waking up to no bread, no milk, no cereal, and an abundance of an alcohol-induced mess. It was the brunette’s rare night off to party, so Marianne woke up to quite literally nothing. Now, it’s almost noon, and Addie’s got a nasty headache right behind her eyebrows, an odd taste in her mouth, and a nagging feeling in the pit of her stomach. 

  ‘Food,’ demands Marianne. ‘I’m starving.’

  Addie pokes her head out of the bathroom, holding up two fingers. Marianne just rolls her eyes and drapes herself over the couch with a groan that Addie drowns out with her toothbrush. 

  She splashes some cold water onto her face, rubbing some moisturiser into it afterwards. Doesn’t do much – her eyes are still bloodshot, under-eye circles dark, skin dry and lips chapped even with lip balm on it. Addie just sighs. This’ll require sunglasses which, in turn, will require contact lenses. 

  ‘Two more minutes!’

  Another groan from Marianne. ‘Merde, Addie!’

  First contact in. She blinks it into place, ignoring its dryness. ‘I’ll be back before you know it.’ Second in. ‘And I’ll bring you some chocolate.’

  ‘Aw. You will?’

  ‘Yes. For emotional disturbances.’

  Marianne beams at her from the couch. Noon sun shines on her through the window as she basks in the light, looking all fresh and ready to take on the day. 

  Addie envies her. Not like she’d ever admit it, though. 

  ‘You’re a godsend,’ Marianne tells her. ‘When you’re not the devil’s menace, obviously. Today shall be your lucky day.’

  ‘Shall it?’ Addie quirks an eyebrow at her, grabbing a purse from the drawer in the hallway with a smile dancing in the corner of her lips. 

  The blonde-haired girl hmms, her eyes closed and arms raised up in the air. In the tiniest voice, she says: ‘I am throwing my blessings at you now.’ She outstretches her hands in what looks to Addie like a kung-fu move, fully accompanied by a half-breathed half-voiced ‘HA!’

  ‘You done?’

  Marianne grins. ‘Yes. Now please go get me some food.’

  ‘Tea for when I’m back?’

  ‘Yes, ma’am. The finest the British Isles have to offer.’

  ‘You’re not even British.’

  ‘Half,’ says Marianne. ‘Half is enough.’

  ‘Yeah, but the other half is French.’

  Marianne just rolls her eyes, and Addie revels in the fact that there'll be a hot cup of tea waiting for her when she comes back with the groceries. Equipped with her iPhone and earphones, a foldable IKEA bag, some money, and sunglasses big enough to cover her hungover mess of a face, Addie leaves the small apartment. 

  Summer in Atlanta is something Addie hasn’t experienced before. People get a lot more vibrant, there’s more joggers than usual, and people with dogs and kids venture out of their homes more often. There’s also the filming aspect, increased during summer, which generally means that there’ll be at least one street blocked for public per day – an inconvenience that made her be late for class more than once. 

  To Addie, it’s starting to feel like home. Warm and filled with a light breeze, the place lively and bright. 

  Or, possibly, it’s just that she starts to listen to music that makes her feel that way. 

  The local Tesco of Rockdale county is on the main road, and it takes Addie five songs to get there. It’s busy as always, and Addie gets herself a plastic basket at the entrance, pulling up the grocery list on the notes app. It’s mostly food – they ran out of almost everything the day before, and drunk Addie finished whatever little was left, so this is going to be half a week's worth of shopping. 

  Addie rummages through the isles with ease, almost on autopilot. Memories from last night resurface, blurry and hazed, and she rubs her temples with the heels of her hands. 

  last night was something else, she thinks. The music in her ears is loud and she glances up as she’s about to turn the corner, basket full of veggies so far, and she makes eye contact with a person that looks vaguely familiar. 

  She looks away. 

  Then she looks back at them, an almost unnoticeable frown on her face. He’s tall, with dark blonde hair underneath a baseball cap, and it’s not until he leans forward to grab something off the canned goods section that she realises who it is. 

  holy fucking moly it’s drew fucking starkey

  Addie freezes in place as her brain computes the visual in front of her and attaches it to the memory of his face, on her projector screen, in her and Marianne’s living room. 

  It doesn’t seem right to see him here, shopping at Tesco, looking so different from the person she’s used to seeing that she almost didn’t recognise him. However, it’s still him, so Addie gathers all her courage and walks into the isle across from hers, until she’s right next to him.   

  ‘Hi,’ she says. ‘Sorry, I don’t mean to bother you, but – you’re Drew Starkey, right?’

  Her voice is hushed, and it’s on purpose – she’s fairly certain neither of them would like a bunch of people to come over here. Addie doesn’t know how big the fanbase is, but if she managed to recognise him (almost) off the bat, it’s highly likely there'd be at least a few more people knowing him. It might be just a few months since the show’s release, but it’s gathered quite a bit of attention. 

  The moment seems to unfreeze, and the guy in front of her nods, almost reluctantly. ‘Yeah, that’s me.’

  ‘Oh, cool. I really liked what you did with Rafe. I don’t know anything about acting and all that, but you gave me chills in the scenes where Rafe is losing his mind, and I can’t even hate him because of how sorry I feel for him.’

  Drew watches her with a bland, cautious expression on his face for a second, until he breaks out into one of the biggest smiles she's ever seen. It’s a nice smile – he looks like the boy next door, or the one guy who would be popular in high school (probably a quarterback), or someone she could just trust. 

  Damn.

  ‘Thanks,’ he says, finally. His shoulders don’t seem as tense anymore despite still being about a good half-foot taller than Addie, the difference doesn’t seem as drastic anymore. ‘I’m glad you liked it. You are supposed to hate him, though.’

  Addie scoffs, shaking her head, even though there’s still a smile on her lips. ‘Come on. His freaking dad hates him, his friends are all sixteen or whatever. No wonder he’s so messed up.’

  ‘But he is messed up.’

  ‘Oh yeah, he should rot in jail, totally.’ Addie makes a vague waving motion with her hand. ‘That’s my point, anyway. I hate him but I feel bad for him and I don't think I would’ve if you weren’t so good at what you do.’

  Drew’s smile just grows and he laughs, a little. It’s a fleeting moment, but Addie likes it. Quite a bit, actually. Shame he doesn’t get to do that often as Rafe. 

  ‘Thank you so much, honestly. I thought people would hate me because of Rafe.’

  ‘Are you kidding? Are people actually like that?’

  He makes a vague gesture with his hand (a lot like the one she did earlier) and sighs. ‘You wouldn’t believe me if I told you.’

  ‘Damn.’ Addie shakes her head. ‘Well, um, I should probably get going. It was nice meeting you.’

  ‘We didn’t actually meet,’ he says, with a face that is waiting for her to clock it, except she doesn’t. ‘You haven’t told me your name.’

  ‘Oh! Oh my god, yeah, sorry – It’s Addison. Addie, for short.’

  Drew extends his hand; it’s warm when she takes it, and his grip is as firm as hers. ‘Nice to meet you, Addie.’

  ‘You too, Drew.’

  It’s the moment that their hands fall to each their own side that Addie notices the beginning of awkwardness in the situation. She smiles at him and tells him goodbye, ready to let him go, until she starts thinking about how Marianne is going to flip her shit and won’t even believe her and then—

  ‘Drew! Hi. Sorry again.’ 

  Addie’s got a hand on his shoulder and taps it twice, just enough for him to turn around with the same kind smile. She’s got half a second to wonder if it’s because he knows she’s not some wild fan, or because he’s just like that. 

  ‘It’s okay, don’t worry.’

  She gives him the best apologetic face she can muster. ‘Can we take a photo? My roommate isn’t going to believe me otherwise.’

  Drew laughs, and something falls off of Addie’s chest. He agrees to it, she takes the selfie—cursing the way she’s going to look on it considering she had to put her sunglasses on top of her hair when she entered the store—and his arm’s curved around her shoulder, pulling her close.

  ‘Thank you!’

  ‘It’s really no problem.’ They look at the photo—it’s as good as they get—and Drew lets out a breathy laugh. ‘Shit, we got the same phone.’

  ‘Seriously?’

  ‘Yeah, look.’

  He fishes his phone out of his jacket and, true to his word, they look exactly alike. It’s just a plain black iPhone, but neither of them has a case or anything attached to it, and the two of them laugh. Drew even takes them both and compares them to one another, showing that the only actual difference are the lock screens. Marianne and Addie for hers, and Chase making a grimace for Drew. Someone walks behind them, eyeing them uncomfortably, and Addie sees Drew tug his hat lower. 

  She really hopes she didn’t disturb him by all this. If he’s to be believed then she didn’t, but she can never know. 

  ‘Okay,’ she says, ‘I’ll actually get going now.’

  Drew nods. He recovers in a flash and there’s not a trace of discomfort on his face. ‘Nice meeting you again.’

  Addie just laughs, takes the phone he’s handing her, tells him bye, and walks away. 

  Without turning back, this time. 

  The rest of her shopping goes smoothly. She wants to message Marianne, but she’s also kind of freaking out, or her hangover is acting up, because she’s feeling nauseous and excited and her heart is definitely about to destroy her ribcage. What she does is just keep going on with her shopping as usual, and focus on the things she actually needs. 

  But when she reaches into her pocket to look at the shopping list, it’s Chase’s face that stares back at her, and her heart doesn’t leap out of her chest – it sinks all the way into the hangover-shaped hole in her stomach, and a wave of anxiety rushes through her. 

  Addie looks for Drew all around the store for a solid ten minutes, but she can’t find him. She asks the workers, all of them, and she’s almost ready to give up, when one of them tells her they’ve seen him walk out of the store, shopping bags in tow. 

  She leaves her things in the store, sets the basket aside, and runs through the checkout and onto the parking lot. She calls his name, over and over again, but he’s not here anymore. 

  He left. With her phone. 

  So Addie does the only thing that will soothe her anxiety to a moderate level – go back inside, take her basket, and continue what she came here for. She’ll only be able to deal with the phone situation when either Drew comes back for it (possibly?), or when she texts the number from Marianne’s phone. 

  Drew doesn’t come back, so Addie comes home with an insane story, a phone to find, and no chocolate for Marianne.

   ◇

02: MESSAGE ME ON INSTAGRAM

tagging. @jjmaybanksbaby @taiter-tots @sacredto @snkkat @drewswannabegirl @yeslifeofateen @rudypnkw​

#drew starkey #drew starkey fanfiction #drew starkey fic #outer banks #obx #rafe cameron #drew starkey imagine #my fic #phone swap series #obx fic #outer banks fanfiction

[kaistarus]

Will You Social Distance With Me?

Pairing: Bakugou X Reader

Words: 2K

Summary: Quarantine and social distancing is hard, especially when you’re in high school and one of the only nights you look forward to is cancelled. You’ve given up any hope, but... maybe prom night can still be saved

Notes: This is for all you people that have gotten anything cancelled because of the coronavirus. My college graduation was cancelled, so we’re in this hell hole together :(

“I’m literally dying,” Mina’s face took up a majority your laptop screen as she whined dramatically. Her pink locks were pulled back by a silky hairband for the mudmask smeared across her face. Even in a global pandemic, skin care was her priority. “I’m losing my mind.”

“Wrong usage of literally.” Bakugou popped up front-and-center. He chewed a mechanical pencil as he focused on something off screen, likely doing the assigned online homework you were pretending didn’t exist.

“Okay, fun police.” You smirked. He sneered at his monitor and even though he couldn’t target the look, you knew it was for you.

“Whatever, you know what I mean.” Mina waved him off, falling back into her sea of fluffy pillows. “I haven’t had face-to-face interactions with anyone not my family in weeks. I’ll go insane before quarantine is over.”

“You should buy animal crossing,” Kirishima’s smiling face filled your screen as he held up a Nintendo switch. “I’ve never avoided my problems so easily.”

“Your grades are shit.” Bakugou said.

“Were they good before?” You tilted your head, looking at Kirishima’s videochat box as he focused at his lap where you assumed his Switch laid.

“Absolutely not,” Kirishima smirked. “But now I have Crimson Riot Land to disassociate on.” You weren’t entirely sure what that meant, but your interest had been peaked.

“Hey, where’s Kami?” Mina made a show of tapping her wrist. “He’s late.”

Which was weird. Kaminari was either scheduling their videochats or the first one in the call whining when someone was 30 seconds late. That’s what happens when you’re the most extroverted person in a group during a global pandemic.

“He’s on a date with that Tinder boy.” Sero stated as if it was common knowledge.  He laid flat on his stomach toward his laptop surrounded by homework he’d held off till last minute. You tried desperately to forget about the mound of your own homework lying nearby.

Your jaw went slack in surprise and Mina exaggeratedly gasped. Even Bakugou paused writing and looked up at the screen confused.

“Where? Why?” Mina gripped her laptop monitor and began shaking it aggressively. “How?”

“McDonalds parking lot. He’s trying to make up for Prom getting cancelled.” Sero tapped his temple with his pencil’s eraser as he thought. “They’re staying in their cars with their windows cracked to avoid the virus.”

“That’s… romantic?” You said uncertainly.

“It’s fucking stupid.” Bakugou snorted, leaning against his hand. You stuck your tongue out and he made a mocking face.

“I forgot tonight was supposed to be Prom night.” Kirishima leaned back on his hands thoughtfully. You wished you could say the same. You looked over to the calendar hanging to your left beside your bed that had today’s date circled in red sharpie.

“How could Prom King forget?” Sero smirked, placing one of his books atop his head and leaning into crossed arms. Clearly, he’d given up hopes of productivity.

“I wouldn’t have won.”

“Literally everyone loves you Kiri. You were the only person people wanted to vote for.” You said. An unconvinced smile spread across his face and your heart dropped that he didn’t get to experience that love or recognition. He really deserved that moment.

“I’m just pissed I spent hundreds of dollars on a dress I don’t even get to wear.” Mina crossed her arms. “I would’ve looked so damn good.”

You looked at your own closet where your dress hung uselessly in its plastic store-bought bag to never be touched. You were sure there was someone you could give it to who would make some use of it in the future, but that just wasn’t the same.

“Who fucking cares. It’s all a waste of money,” Bakugou said uninterested.

“It’s not a waste.” You said offended, but he just rolled his eyes at you.

You knew Bakugou felt that way, but it still hurt hearing him say it. Perhaps it was because you had the pathetic fantasy that you could have asked him to go and he’d have said yes. Or because you picked out a crimson red dress specifically because you knew that was his favorite color. Or maybe even it was because you’d been in love with the idiot since freshman year history class and filled your head that this night would’ve been the night everything changed.

It didn’t matter anymore. The night was gone, and so were your chances with Bakugou. You’d just have to accept things for how they are. Your friendship wasn’t bad after all. You’d take late night videochats over no Bakugou any day.

“It’s a monumental moment of our high school careers!” Mina threw her hands up. “We go through four years of hell for one night of fun and the chance at a coming of age romance scene.”

“That’s stupid.” Bakugou stated. “Who honestly cares about that shit?”

You furrowed your brow. It was almost too easy to get worked up when you were talking at your laptop. That and being cooped up in your house for weeks probably made your emotions ten times stronger than usual. “Maybe I do.”

He blinked confused. “What?”

“Maybe I was hoping for a stupid teenage promposal and awkward slow dancing and cute stupid lovey confessions at a waste of fucking money dance.”

Mina looked all too amused at Bakugou’s stunned expression. Sero’s eyes were flickering around his screen while Kirishima’s head was directly downward to avoid confrontation. You felt your face reddening as the seconds passed.

“I didn’t… you aren’t…” Bakugou furrowed his brow and looked more and more stoic as moments passed. You quickly began regretting your comment. Just because you had been looking forward to prom doesn’t mean you had to force your excitement on to others.

“Bakugou… I didn’t mean to—”

“I gotta go.” He logged off the chat and you felt your stomach knot. You hadn’t meant to offend him. You shouldn’t have gotten upset that he ruined your stupid fantasies.

“I should apologize.” You muttered.

“Don’t bother,” Mina waved your comment off. “He’ll walk it off. Let’s watch a Netflix movie.”

The boys agreed and you exited the chat to pull Netflix up in a separate tab. Although the others were vocal throughout whatever movie Mina and Sero had argued over, you were absentmindedly zoning out at the dress hanging in the corner of your room. You really hoped you hadn’t ruined your friendship with Bakugou over something as stupid as a school dance. Even if you had been looking forward to it for such a long time, it wasn’t fair to take out your frustrations on him.

When the movie ended you contributed as little as you could their discussion about what you’d watched and helped schedule the next big online hangout that weekend. When everyone logged out you took a deep breath and stared at the mound of texts and worksheets lying on the nightstand beside you. Reluctantly, you realized it was probably time you stopped avoiding the coursework you’d been assigned.

Thankfully, the moment you opened your Algebra text your phone vibrated on the mattress beside you. A sign that you were meant to procrastinate work one night longer. You slammed the book shut happily and grabbed your phone.

Bakagou: Look out your window

               You read the message over several times before wrapping yourself in your comforter and crawling out of bed to your second-story window. When you pulled back the curtain to peer through the glass your jaw went slack, and your phone fell from your limp hand.

               Beneath your window was Bakugou, standing in your yard holding a poster with ‘PROM’ written in black sharpie in one hand and a handful off daisies in the other, clumps of dirt still attached to the roots. He was dressed in a charcoal button-up and dark slacks, and his hair that had been a wild mess just hours ago was now tame. You stared confused for several long moments before hurriedly undoing the windows lock and pushing it open.

               “What are you doing?” You shouted.

               Even from the second story you could see his face turning red as he answered. “The fuck does it look like I’m asking you to prom!” He waved the half-assed poster around as if you somehow missed it.

               “I know,” you rolled your eyes, but couldn’t fight the grin taking over your face. “But we don’t have prom.”

               “It’s supposed to be symbolic.” His grip on the poster tightened to the point you could see it crinkling near his hand.

               “I thought Prom was a waste of time?” You leaned lazily into the palm of your hand as he narrowed his eyes at you.

               “It is, but apparently it matters to you so…” His scrunched up his nose and kicked at the ground. “Are you going with me or not?”

               You started to chuckle. “Yes. Obviously, I’ll go with you.”

               He looked almost relieved at your answer. “Thank fuck.”

               You smiled fondly at Bakugou who stretched his arms above his head before a frown overtook your face. “This is so stupid.”

               His eyes widened briefly. “Well, I didn’t have a lot of fucking time. I know the poster is ass and the flowers are from my yard, but it’s not like I can give them to you anyway so—”

               “No.” You waved your arms frantically in front of you. “No, you’re amazing.” You clarified and a small smile appeared on his face causing your heartrate to quicken. “I’m mean this.” You gestured toward the sky. “It just wasn’t how tonight was supposed to go.”

               “How was it supposed to go?”

               You felt your face flush. You stumbled over your words before deciding that he drove all the way here and if that wasn’t a sign you were meant to have a fairy tale prom night you didn’t know what was. “Well, first off you wouldn’t have to stay in my yard like this.”

               “That does make it a little difficult.”

               You nodded your head. “I’d be wearing my way too expensive dress. We’d get to take awkward photos and slow dance together and…” It was taking all of you not to turn away from his intense gaze. You urged yourself to continue. To finally say what’s been on your heart for years. “I’d probably tell you that I’ve been stupidly in love with you since Freshman year.”

               You gripped the windowsill tightly to keep your nerves to a minimum, but the cocky smirk Bakugou gave you did bad things for your health.

               “If we weren’t in a pandemic...” You added. “That’s probably how it could have theoretically happened.”

               He nodded his head and chuckled. “And, theoretically, I’d probably respond by saying something stupid like I’ve liked you for a while too. Maybe I’d try kissing you if you’d let me.”

               You smiled so wide your cheeks began hurting. “Well, hypothetically speaking, if that had happened, I probably would’ve let you.”

               “Yeah?” Bakugou smirked.

               You nodded.

               You both smiled at each other and Bakugou ran a hand through his hair. You’d give anything to sprint downstairs and out your front door to tackle this boy in a hug right now. Every nerve in your body was screaming at you to kiss him and the fact that you couldn’t was driving you insane.

               “Well, theoretically, if I were to ask you on a date. What would your answer be?” Bakugou raised an eyebrow in your direction.

               “I’d say McDonald’s parking lot next Monday?”

               He narrowed his eyes. “I’m not going on a date at a McDonald’s parking lot.”

               You pushed out your lips in a pout and crossed your arms. “No fun.”

               “Is that a yes?”

               “Obviously it’s a yes.” You rolled your eyes. How could he ever think you’d say no. Especially after tonight. “I’m just upset it’ll take so long.”

               “We talk every day.”

               “Not the same.”

               He rolled his eyes, but a smile dusted his lips. “I waited this long. What’s a little quarantine gonna do?”

               You weren’t sure your face could get any redder, but after that comment you were sure you had invented a new shade. He left that night resting a bouquet of garden flowers in your yard and a promise to see you in the distant future. You watched him drive off down your street, staring long after his car had disappeared. You rested your head against the windowsill, wrapped your blankets tightly around yourself, and continued to smile until the muscles in your cheeks ached.

               Somehow, your prom night turned out better than you could have imagined.

#bakugou x reader #bakugou katsuki x reader #bnha imagines #bnha #bakugou imagine #bakusquad #bakugou katsuki #kirishima eijirou #mina ashido #sero hanta #mha #quarantine au

[georgemackayhey]

Rules For Falling In Love: #1

summary: In which George wants to get married. But... you're not dating. Why should you say yes?

a/n: Here it is I'm obsessed with this concept my dear friend thought up, so much so that I was inspired to write this multichapter fic about it all. Please let me know if I forgot to tag anyone, or if you'd like to be added to the list! And as always... feedback of any and all kinds are greatly appreciated!

w/c: 2k

Part 2 >

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"Don't be a third wheel, come on now!" Dean's publicist shooed him away from where you stood next to George, counting down the seconds till the red carpet came to an end. You gave the guy a quick, twisted frown, as George's publicist pulled him further down the carpet, his hand holding on to yours, silently bringing you along.

This was just another normal Friday evening.

When the time came to flood into the award ceremony, you sighed in relief and reached for a drink from the tray of a despondent boy meant to stand right where he was for most the night.

"Don't you have any place better to be?" Dean laughed your way, thanking the waiter for the drink he swiped.

"We were going to go bowling." You shot George a look. You'd only made the plans as a joke, wondering how much shit either of you would get for ditching this stupid ceremony to go have a bit of real fun. But you'd made a promise to George long ago, to attend all these silly little Hollywood shindigs with him.

"And we will go bowling if we make it out of here alive" George declared with a nod, leading you toward the row of seats with your names on them. He hated these events almost more than you did. He insisted your presence aided to quell his anxieties these circumstances stirred up. And you couldn't tell George no, very often.

"If one of you ever did one thing without each other, I think hell would freeze over." Dean chuckled as you all settled into your seats. You looked to George again, and he looked to you and you both laughed, but Dean was probably right.

After the awards had been given out between long, sometimes painful speeches, the boy's publicists insisted they linger around the after-party for as long as they could manage. You kept your usual pace in between them, cackling over stupid old jokes and offering forced toothy grins to celebrities who asked if they could steal George away for photos and chats about the magic of acting- or whatever.

"You know, no one has even ever asked about us." You pointed out to Dean, sharing a piece of cake in the quietest corner of the party. "Showbiz people I mean. They just assumed right away. Even the times we've insisted we're only friends, they insist we're joking." You huffed a laugh.

"That's Hollywood for you, I suppose. But you've gotta admit... you and George-"

"Are just friends." You finished. Dean halted, smiling in agreeance to drop the subject, but clearly held back from stating his other points, whether they were valid or not.

After one too many sweets and drinks, George found you and informed his sister was on her way to give the two of you a lift home. You traded a few hugs with Dean, making rough plans to meet up again very soon, without all the cameras and microphones in the way.

///

"How was your date, then?" George's sister wondered as you clamored into the back of her car. George followed behind with an answer.

"It wasn't a date, it was work thinly veiled as fun."

"But you went together, which makes it a date."

"Nice try," You rose a finger, buckling in as the girl sped off toward the city streets. She'd always found sly ways to get you and George to admit there was something deeper to your connection. She'd introduce you to her friends as her brother's girlfriend. She'd address Christmas presents to the both of you, handing them out with a wink.

"I don't understand you two." She dramatically croaked now, as if your denial was her personal defeat. "You're catfishing the world!"

"We're not pretending to date." George reminded his sister, "And we're also not pretending we don't live together."

"Yeah so why aren't you dating? You do everything else together."

"We live to torment you. It's all to drive you mad" George falsely confessed.

"I wouldn't put it past you." His sibling let out a whine.

You and George shared a roll of your eyes, dulling snickers and exhausting explanations that weren't worth wading through. The midnight ride to your flat fell silent then. The night had been long, but it was a seemingly usual evening, these days.

By the time you and George shuffled up the drive, waved his sister goodnight, you were ready to forgo your usual routine and drop face-first into bed.

"I think my sister has a point," George mumbled, shutting and locking the front door.

"Hmm?" You encouraged George to go on, halfway in tune to listen, more so gearing up to head to bed after such a long evening out. George remained silent as you kicked your shoes off, and didn't speak again until he had your undivided attention.

"Let's get married," George said.

You tossed your head back in a laugh as you floated further into your shared home.

"I'm serious, y/n." George hurried along, moving to stop you from walking away, boring his sleepy eyes into yours.

"What?" You chuckled again, shaking your head, trying to keep up.

"We already live here. We've been talking about sharing a bank account. And it'll be so much easier to introduce as my wife than as 'my best friend who I live with but am not dating but go everywhere with.'"

"But that's the truth!"

"Marriage could be true! Think of how much easier life would be."

"George, how much have you had to drink?" You cackled as you pushed past him, into the kitchen for a glass of water. You clattered about the cupboards as he followed you, rambling still.

"I'm serious! We've planned out our lives together already. Future vacations, birthday parties, career deadlines, all accounted for with each other in mind. We should just get married."

"George! I will not let you lie at the altar. A wedding is for two people who want to commit every bit of their lives together for the rest of the foreseeable future."

"My plans for the weekend are always to ask you what you want to do the next. I'm your only emergency contact." George listed off these points as if they were dead giveaways.

"Okay, let's say we get married." You entertained, standing in front of George as he noshed on some deserts he'd brought home from the after-party. He raised a pretty brow, waiting for you to go on.

"Sure nothing changes at first, not really. You're already my ride to work, and I already promised to go to all those silly Hollywood parties with you. But what happens in five years when I want to move to France and you want to stay here? What happens in six months if some super hot mailman comes and sweeps me off my feet? What happens when you fall in love with some leading lady, George?"

"People get divorced all the time." He shrugged.

"That's a lot of money to blow. And for what? For a lousy label and some ugly rings?"

"So we pick out some bloody cool rings and promise to only get divorced if shit hits the fan. Neither of us can stay mad for long. Remember when I spilled wine on your great grandma's old lounge chair? I was fully prepared to be excommunicated. But you just hugged me while you cried." George chuckled, keeping his desserts close.

"Do you really wanna kiss me in front of your mother and the world and pretend that this is normal?" You tried to ask with a serious glare, but it was just too funny. You couldn't help but let out a little giggle of disbelief that this was the conversation you were having on an otherwise normal weekday evening.

"Y/n, we're practically already married."

"George I love you, but this is a stupid idea."

"I don't think it is, but I love you too. I'm taking this box of macaroons to bed, now."

"Okay goodnight you two." You laughed, pulling at the sleeves of your too-tight dress on your trek down the hall.

"Wait!" You called out, a few steps from your room. "Can you unzip this, please?" You took a few backward steps to meet where George had stalled in the hall, macaroon halfway in and out of his mouth, he balanced one hand on your shoulder and used the other to undo the zipper that hugged your spine.

"G'night!" You heard him mumble past his dessert as you gave him a wave of thanks and practically threw yourself into your nice warm bed.

///

You met George when you were kids. You grew up attending the same local festivals and schools. His acquaintance turned more familiar with each passing summer until you'd become rather inseparable. It was that fact that kept his number in your contacts when you moved to the city, and he went away to film more often.

You'd kept up lunch dates when he came back home, and celebrated holidays with his family every time they invited you to come round like they'd been doing for years. You'd even attended a few birthdays and dinner parties with his family when George was out of town, when you hadn't spoken with him in months.

You moved in with George some odd years ago, when the flat you rented threw one too many unfixable issues your way. His home was the closest to your work, and he was one of the only friends you trusted enough to reach out to for help. After occupying his guest room for a few months, George insisted you move your things into the place you'd already practically been living in.

His home was big enough, tucked away just outside of the city. It's high ceilings, warm decor and a manageable rent were easily and comfortably split between the two of you. It made sense. You'd been sharing most of your free time together for years, anyway.

You shuffled through the bright halls, past framed photos of George's family. Of you and George. There was no difference, you'd been close for so many years, your lives were complexly intertwined whether you liked it or not. Luckily, you did.

George was already in the sun-drenched kitchen when you entered, stretching into the new day.

After trading usual morning greetings you could practically hear George's silent, burning thoughts. He poured you each a cup of coffee and shot you a look you knew was meant to say much more than words could.

"Okay, what?" You asked in a warning tone, accepting the drink he placed before you at the table, before sitting in the chair at your side. You knew George had something to say, and he'd say it whether you asked him about it or not.

"My mum thinks we've been dating since Uni. You know we can't talk her out of it. If anything she'd be relieved."

Oh, he was really still hung up on this huh?

"So you wanna do this because of your mother?" You asked, watching the steam curl up from the drink between your hands.

"No. I wanna do this because being together officially would make all our being together anyway, so much easier. Bills, plans, excuses, rainy days."

You looked at George, his start blue eyes, his unkempt hair, that stupid withheld smile he got when he was focused on something. You loved him for longer than you had the patients to do the math for. You planned on loving him for a while, even when he pissed you off, you couldn't imagine struggling alongside anyone else...

"Earth to y/n."

"I'm not responding because you're starting to make sense and I don't like it." You pretended to pout. Then George went silent for a beat, his brilliant eyes searching your face.

"Do you still want to go bowling?" He pipped up as if he'd just remembered you'd said something about it a day earlier.

"Sounds fun, doesn't it?" You asked, hoping he'd join you in wasting a day having childlike fun. George bit back a grin, leaned in close to catch your eye, and said,

"If I win... we'll get married."

You wanted to curse his name through a laugh, but you very rarely could tell the man no. And you hated to admit it even to yourself, but the more you thought about it... the more you liked the idea.

"And if you win?" George mused, egging you on. But you didn't need to place bets to play.

"Let's go bowling, Mackay."

///

As you took turns knocking pins down, George brought up several valid points.

How his family adored you. How he'd drop anything to be there for you when you needed him. How you'd always talked about how scary the future seemed, but agreed it was better to face together, like always.

And you argued for a moment that maybe neither of you knew any better, how you were all each other knew since growing up.

But George pointed out that simply wasn't true. He'd traveled. Met girls, none of whom were around at all anymore. You'd dated and failed to find anyone worth keeping around. It was as if you and George were the survivors of some twisted game of life, having only managed this far because of how you relied on each other.

But you weren't on the same bowling team.

You were scoring strikes left and right a few solid points ahead in the game.

But George was close to beating you, one good turn and he'd wind up the winner.

All the while, George only stalled his passionate speeches to listen and laugh over yours. And as you considered how familiar his presence was, and the way you couldn't imagine living life any further apart, you'd made up your mind.

But every time you thought of voicing your decision, something stopped you. You bit your tongue and decided that you'd wait to see if your feelings changed soon. And after some serious thought, you could either tell George that you'd hate to let him down, but plan a movie night alongside his favorite dinner, to make up for your decline. Or you'd tell him yes, and agree to his stupidly sweet idea to get hitched. Because you couldn't tell him no.

He won the game.

But of course, George wasn't living and dying by the bet he made that coaxed you to play. And you never really agreed to it anyway. The two of you simply went on arguing on the way home, more or less about how you were on the same page, and just what to do next.

And while you made dinner together, your conversation stopped when you sucked in a big breath and spun on your heels across the room. You'd heard enough.

George raised a pale brow, sitting patiently at the table as the oven did its thing. Then he watched as you settled back to the seat across from him, placing a pad of paper and a pen down.

"If...we do this, I'm writing down rules."

George watched on, sipping tea as you scribbled away. Once you felt comfortable with the list of regulations you'd penned, you read from the marked-up note pad, one at a time.

"Okay, listen up..."

MARRIAGE RULES

one. No lying to family and friends. They get to know that this isn't conventional.

two. No lying to each other. We're only doing this to make things easier. We must remain every bit a team.

three. We must celebrate our anniversary because there's no point in not milking the chance to go on holiday.

"Now," You flipped the page to a new set of rules before George could go on smooth-talking.

DIVORCE RULES

"We can only get a divorce under dire circumstances. Which include the following..."

one. If we betray each other's morals or trust in a way that cannot be fixed or forgiven after a year's time.

two. If one of us is dying. Actively dying.

three. If one of us finds and falls in love.

"We've managed to work out all the bad shit together so far and I'm sure we can keep that up. A divorce is too much money to waste over one fight we end up resolving and remain otherwise together."

"So you'll do it?" George grinned, setting his drink to the side.

"Is this you asking me to marry you? It's very unromantic. Negative three out of ten." You laughed, George did too. But you needed to make yourself very clear.

"I'll think about it." You clarified. "You should too."

You’d tell him yes later. Because as much as it scared you... you'd already made up your mind.

───※ ·❆· ※───

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#george mackay #george mackay x reader #george mackay imagine #george mackay fanfic