#i slapped my shoulder not long after because it twinged

[moonpetrichors-blog]

you're currently carrying 'avatar x reader' with your absolutely amazing works, so i have another request for you, love, if that's alright <33

no idea how to properly start this, but basically neteyam and y/n are a thing- and even though y/n is like super grateful for his protection, lately she's been feeling just like another of his many responsibilities, not a partner. so they grow a bit distant, to that point where even his family notices, and when they try to talk it out they get into an argument. pretty much angst (because i love it👹👹👹) !!!!!!!!!!!!! and it's totally up to you if it ends with fluff or angst. oh and i thought maybe it could take place when they arrive to the metkayina clan, because it would mean y/n left everything behind just for neteyam (and his amazing family ofc🤞🤞🤞), but the way he begun to treat her, makes her think she might regret that decision= more aNGST‼️‼️but that's up to you- whatever you're more comfortable with :)) okay, byeee!!! have a nice day!!!

(i'm @introvert-pansexual btw😧)

Not A Responsibility

Tags: Neteyam x Omaticaya!Reader, Oneshot, Fem!Reader, Angst, Fluff At The End (Not Really)

Warnings: Tiny Bit Toxic, Mentioned Jealousy

Ever since you left the Omaticaya clan for your boyfriend, you’ve felt suffocated by his overprotective nature. You’re his partner, not just another one of his responsibilities or trouble-seeking siblings. And it hurts, knowing that he treats you like you are less his mate than burden. You think you might regret leaving your home for him.

UR SO NICE OMG😭😭❤️❤️ I love every request I get HSJQISIWJ some days my brain is just poop cause i cant think up ideas so these are nice to get ☠️☠️ also yuh I kinda inferred that u switched accs bc i stalk my followers LMAOAOAO anywayss this deffo isnt my best work but ive been kinda tired lately so like sorry if its not that great 😭😭

* ˚ ✦ 1096 Words • Read below the cut  

╭┈─────── ೄྀ࿐ ˊˎ-╰┈➤ ❝ [08/01/23] ❞   

 You and Neteyam have been dating. For a long time, actually.

You grew up together, and the tight friendship you built inevitably developed into feelings of attraction. You were anticipated to be mated to one another, and the Sully family cherished you.

Jake used to torment his son before you began dating. He'd make remarks about how you two reminded him of him and Neytiri, and how Neteyam had to entice you with the superb wooing genes he inherited from him. Neytiri would slap him on the back of the head and order him to be quiet. However, she couldn't argue with Jake's teasing. A lovely girl like yourself resembled a second daughter to her; if her son didn't put a ring on it, she would drag him by the ear.

You felt your throat constrict and your eyes burn with tears the day Neteyam informed you Jake was forcing his family to pick up and move. How were you supposed to just carry on and forget about your relationship?

You couldn't. As a result, you left with him. You would fly for a thousand days on an Ikran, cross vast oceans, and abandon your home a million times more for Neteyam and his family. Neteyam considered himself extremely fortunate to have you.

However, after finally settling in with the Metkayina, you began to sense a twinge of foreboding. You felt homesick, and you knew that relocating to a whole new clan would be difficult. Neteyam appeared to be taking it the hardest though, so you did not want to complain.

You noted how his shoulders tensed more frequently, or how he wore a faint grimace when alone. You were outsiders in this place, and they treated you as such. Neteyam couldn't help but be uptight whenever the olo'eyktan's son harassed his siblings, but he lost his composure when he sought to bother you.

Or, more accurately, flirted with you. Neteyam had a reputation for being a jealous boyfriend. You and his family were fully cognizant of this, but to the casual onlooker, he always appeared calm and collected. When Aonung penetrated your personal space, you recognized how Neteyam would surreptitiously linger nearby, or extended an arm around you. It drove him insane.

When he first started acting that way, you would coo at him and envelop him in your embrace while calling him sweet. You believed his protectiveness over you was adorable, and it was flattering to say the least. Neteyam, on the other hand, had nothing to be concerned about. You were solely interested in him.

...

Regardless of your unconditional affection, it seemed that the more Neteyam stayed in the Awa'atlu village, the more awful he grew.

Irrespective of Aonung's unwanted attention (which had long since faded), nothing made Neteyam happy anymore. When you tried to kiss him, he would either accept it reluctantly or brush you away. If you wished to spend time with him, he would acquiesce, but would eventually talk about his siblings or babysit. Nonetheless, he would be fiercely protective of where you went or what you did.

You couldn't condemn Neteyam for being nervous and tense all the time, but it seemed that no matter what difficulties you were encountering in your relationship, he began to treat you as if you were just another one of his trouble-making siblings. Another chore added to his long list of responsibilities.

Neteyam’s protection used to be charming, but it was now just smothering. It seemed like you were so distant from your boyfriend, yet also so close to him. You began feeling less like his partner, yet it also caused you to feel guilty when you were emotional in front of him. You knew you had no right to complain because you left the Omaticaya clan by your own volition. How could you grumble about it when your lover was enduring greater struggles?

This was a recipe for disaster.

...

You no longer felt comfortable communicating your concerns to your boyfriend. Each time you sought to bring up your reservations about how Neteyam was treating you, he was too preoccupied with his own life to give much heed to your conversation or relationship.

You eventually gave up on your efforts to work it out. If he were to behave distant from you, you would respond with the same energy. You two gradually drifted away, the gulf between you expanding by the day. Neteyam's family became quite alarmed when they noticed how seldom you two were interacting nowadays.

Jake and Neytiri encouraged Neteyam to try to spend some quality time with you again, and that he could set his other obligations aside. They'd maintain a close eye on their other children so Neteyam wouldn't have to fret about them.

He agreed begrudgingly, unable to say no to his parents. You were thrilled when he sought you out for a casual date, the first in a long time. There was a nagging whisper in the rear of your mind that gnawed at you, warning you he just wasn't the same, but you dismissed it. He'd come to find you, hadn't he?

...

You were deflated throughout the duration of your date. The longer time passed, the more you could feel the ominous mood rattling deep in your bones. During your time together, all Neteyam could think about was how much this move had stressed him out, and now he had to be concerned about paying you attention as well. It was apparent from his expression that he was not enjoying himself.

You couldn’t take it anymore.

You snapped at his indifferent attitude. “Can you stop zoning out and actually listen to me for once?”

If Neteyam was trying to fake a smile before, he definitely wasn’t anymore. “What do you mean? This whole entire date I’ve been only listening to you!”

You scoffed at this. His mind was in a whole other place for the entire duration of it. “You never have time for me anymore, and when you do, you act like I’m some burden on your to do list!”

Neteyam felt his blood go hot. Before he could stop himself, he began to yell. “It’s not my fault I can’t give you attention all the time! My parent’s are always putting pressure on me to make sure everyone’s looked after and well behaved, including you!”

Then, his voice dropped to a cruel whisper. “Do you think I wanted to go on this date?”

That was the juncture at which you felt so enraged that you couldn't prevent the tears from cascading down your flaming cheeks. Neteyam's countenance didn't alter in response to your outburst, which only served to make you angrier.

You practically screamed at him. “You’re such a dickhead! You’ve changed, Neteyam.” You began sobbing.

“The only reason I’m mad isn’t because you don’t give me enough attention, it’s because every time we’re together you completely neglect my feelings! You make everything about you!”

He remained still as you wiped your angry tears away, then jutted a finger against his chest. “For someone who acts like they’re always looking after everyone else, you’re so incredibly selfish with me.”

In the face of your harsh comments, Neteyam remained silent and unmoving. He was speechless; he didn't know what to say. The rage was still coursing through his veins, but all he could do was hearken to your never-ending shouts.

Your voice dropped an octave, and you glared into his eyes which you once looked so fondly into. “I’m not another responsibility of yours. I regret ever following you here. If I knew you’d turn out like this, I would’ve saved myself the heartache and found a new partner instead of leaving everything behind for someone that won’t even give me the time of day. You could at least try to act happy to be around me.”

That made his heart break, and he could feel the tears beginning to gather in his eyes too. He couldn’t believe you would have ever found it in you to say that to him. “Fine, do what you want. I tried to spend time with you, and you turned it into an argument.”

He pivoted on his heel, and stormed away from you on the threshold of tears. When he was far enough away, he let the tears flow.

Your voice carried from halfway across the beach. “Fine then, if you want me so bad, I guess I’ll go!”

You, too, turned your back on him and dashed away to find somewhere to cry privately. You felt like such a child.

...

It was growing dark, and eclipse was approaching.

You still hadn’t returned to the marui you shared with the Sully family, and Jake was beginning to get worried. “Where’s Y/N?”

That question was obviously directed towards Neteyam, but he remained sulking instead of replying.

Neytiri’s patience was thinning with her son’s out of character behavior. “That girl doesn’t know her way around the Awa’atlu village. She could be lost!”

Jake rubbed the bridge of his nose, glancing at the sky. He shared Neytiri’s sentiment, as his son still wasn’t talking. What the hell happened on your date?

Although Neteyam appeared furious, he was actually feeling quite guilty. Your reality check tugged at his heartstrings, and now you could be injured, or worse, lost, because he told you to be. He sprung from his seat and raced out the marui, unable to sit still any longer.

Jake's shouts for his son to return at that instant went unfulfilled. Even if Neteyam was angry with you, he was still afraid that something awful would happen, and he'd never forgive himself if it did.

Neteyam called your name as he ran throughout the village. However, no matter how much terrain he covered, or how many times he bellowed your name into the frigid night air, your voice did not respond. He was sweating nervously now, terrified about not being able to locate you. What if he never found you?

Those fears, however, were quickly dispelled into the wind whipping behind him as he hurried towards the sound of sniffling behind a nearby tree. Neteyam scratched the back of his neck, unsure what to do. As he drew near to your weeping figure, he stepped on and snapped a twig, capturing your attention.

You spun around to investigate the source of the noise, only to discover that it was your idiot boyfriend. Neteyam urged you to relax, then sighed and settled besides you.

Before you could protest against him taking a seat next to you, he hugged you tightly and apologized.

“I’m sorry. I’m the way I am right now because I don’t want anything bad happening to you, or my siblings. I can’t imagine ever losing you.”

You let your rage disappear, leaning into his embrace as he continued to talk.

“I know I’ve been a real idiot lately, and I’ll try to show up more in our relationship. My personal problems aren’t your fault.”

Your prior resentment faded as he brushed your tears away with his thumb, and you buried your face in his chest, allowing your arms to wrap around his midriff.

“I’m sorry for saying I wished I stayed behind and found someone new. That was a lie, I’d never be able to move on.”

Neteyam felt his chest tighten at your words, and merely hugged you tighter. “I’ll never hurt you again.”

#↳˳💿;; ❝ inbox ᵕ̈ ೫˚∗: #↳˳🖤;; ❝ oneshot ᵕ̈ ೫˚∗: #↳˳.♡;; ❝ star anon ᵕ̈ ೫˚∗: #oneshot #oneshot avatar #oneshot avatar 2 #avatar oneshot #avatar 2 oneshot #neteyam #neteyam x reader #avatar neteyam #avatar neteyam x reader #neteyam sully #neteyam x you #avatar neteyam x you #neteyam sully x you #angst #fluff ending #omaticaya #omaticaya clan #omaticaya reader #metkayina #metkayina clan #avatar #avatar 2 #avatar the way of water #avatar 2 the way of water #female reader

[ezwezz]

nights like these

h.yj x fem!reader

genre: fluff!

warnings: none

summary: you and yunjin find yourselves sharing a bed while on tour…

“i'll be fine, as long as you don't steal all the blanket."

"same goes..."

you and yunjin stood side by side, staring apprehensively at the singular double bed in the hotel room. the others had already called dibs on their rooms, leaving the latecomers- you and yunjin- the shared one. their plan of attack almost felt premeditated considering you were only 5 minutes late due to yunjin wanting to take a pit-stop at a cute looking bakery; the smirk on eunchae's face when she informed you two of the bedroom situation contained an unmistakable layer of mischief.

"this is your fault." you felt compelled to add.

"hey what!? i gave you the option to go ahead with the others, but you wanted to buy that cinnamon thing!"

"i felt bad leaving you! and i only bought that thing because i was already inside the bakery."

"like i said, you had a choice. and i literally gave you a creampuff why are you turning on me right now?"

"because i know you're going to steal all the blanket! consider this preemptive frustration."

"i actually think you'll be the blanket thief. no one is this hyperfixated on the blanket before they're underneath it."

"how dare you accuse me of that..." yunjin began to giggle, causing you to break the act and slap her arm playfully. "how about we make a deal. no more blanket-talk...if...you let me have first shower." you suggested hopefully.

"hard pass. i can handle blanket-talk, but i can't handle waiting for the shower."

"fuck, i wish i was sharing a room with chaewon right now."

"you asshole!" yunjin shoved you and you returned the gesture, both giggling like hyperactive children.

---

the evening had rolled around and you were lying victoriously in the bed, hair still a little damp as yunjin showered.

the way you'd settled the shower mishap was through a rock paper scissors match- yunjin was extremely predictable and always chose scissors first, granting you an easy win.

the bed seemed even smaller now that you were in it, which sent a twinge of nerves through your body as you realised how close yunjin would be. it was safe to say you had a crush on the woman: she was gorgeous, funny, talented and so flirty with you. you knew it was just playful, but a small part of you hoped there was something more to her flirtatious behaviour, despite being idols with strict no-dating policies- not to mention the fact that you were both girls.

yunjin emerged from the bathroom, shaking you from your thoughts. "you look cozy." she commented grumpily while towel drying her hair.

"it's actually a really comfy bed. are you sure you can't just sleep on the floor?" you teased, causing yunjin to roll her eyes.

"trust me, i would if there was space. i can't believe i have to be tucked in with your annoying ass."

"likewise! now hurry up, i want to turn off the lights."

"someone's in a rush to snuggle." she winked flirtatiously and you scoffed. "let me dry my hair first." she then proceeded to switch on the hairdryer- you chuckled quietly to yourself as you watched her hair blow wildly around her face.

after a couple of minutes the hairdryer was switched off and yunjin finished tidying her hair before moving towards the bed. instead of climbing in like a normal person, she chose to leap onto you.

"yahh! you're squashing me, get off!" you squealed, thrashing around underneath her.

"but you're so warm!" she replied, squeezing you tighter. you couldn't deny the faint blush that seeped into your cheeks as you felt the woman's heartbeat against your torso. her damp hair brushed your exposed neck and her face tucked into your shoulder, eyelashes fluttering against your bare skin causing you to wince at the ticklish sensation. you reluctantly pushed her off of you, not wanting to admit to enjoying the cuddle.

"turn off the light on your side." you asked softly once yunjin had settled under the blanket, moving to flip the light-switch closest to you. you heard a click and suddenly you were plunged into darkness- your senses heightening due to the lack of visibilty.

you were overly aware of the woman who lay next to you- the faint warmth of her body mingling with yours beneath the blanket. she was on her side, facing you, but you couldn't bring yourself to face her, fearing that if you did, you would crack under the intense intimacy.

"y/n?" yunjin whispered after a moment, the sound causing tingles across your skin.

"what do you want, i'm trying to sleep." you replied, attempting a joke but the words sounded unintentionally soft. you felt her move closer to you and your breath hitched, her limbs were now slightly brushing against yours.

"i can see your eyes open, dummy." she stated with a quiet chuckle. "are you uncomfortable?"

"no, i'm fine."

"you look really tense."

"it's pitch black, how can you possibly deduce that?"

"i can sense it..."

"that's weird." you giggled, but relaxed slightly due to the conversation, mustering the courage to turn your head and glance at her. a slither of light from the curtains illuminated the curves of her face, and her eyes that gazed into your own. you were once again lost for words- her beauty was overwhelming.

"you're definitely uncomfortable." she stated upon finally seeing your face.

"i'm really not!" you retorted, shuffling your entire body to mirror her position.

"then why do you look so nervous?

"do i...?"

"your breathing is uneven and you don't look tired anymore. i'll face the other way if it helps."

you surprised yourself by grabbing her arm to stop her turning. "no!...it's okay." yunjin lay still, also seeming surprised. "i'm just nervous because..." she was gazing at you again, a curious smirk on her face causing the words to catch in your throat.

"because what?" she laughed.

"it...doesn't matter." you retreated under the pressure. "what matters is that i'm not uncomfortable."

"if you say so..." she replied, before doing something unexpected.

you felt her reach for your hand and take it softly, then bring it up to her torso and press it against her warm chest. you felt yourself pass away for a second.

"you feel it?" beneath your hand, yunjin's heart was pounding in her ribcage. "i'm also nervous." her voice was a husky whisper.

your hand rested in place, hers holding it there for a few moments in silence.

"why are you nervous?" you finally asked gently.

yunjin's hand slowly retracted yours from her chest and she intertwined your fingers. "because...i'm lying in bed...with you." there was no teasing smirk on her face anymore, only an unnerving look of earnestness.

you gulped and waited a few moments before responding. "our reasons are similar..."

"god..." she whispered, her eyes fluttering closed for a second before reopening with a conflicted expression. "i shouldn't... you don't understand." she muttered the last part under her breath but you caught it.

"i do understand, yunjin."

"no...no you wouldn't." her eyes squeezed closed again and she sighed in exasperation.

instead of responding, you moved close enough for your bodies to press together and enveloped the woman in an embrace, your arm tucking underneath her torso so that she was held by you.

"y/n." she whispered into your neck, returning your hug even tighter. "i really, really....like you." you felt her plant a tender kiss on the exposed skin of your shoulder and your entire body shuddered. you prayed to god this wasn't a dream and held yunjin as close as possible, as if to prevent the moment from slipping away.

"i really like you as well..." your voice was barely a whisper as your throat felt constricted with emotion.

"please don't change your mind after this..." suddenly yunjin moved away, only to pull you closer- this time connecting your lips. you immediately synchronised the motion of the kiss, returning it with everything you had, returning all those times you wished you could've done this.

yunjin's lips were forceful and needy, as if fuelled by exactly the same source as you. it was a perfect moment: you were stopping to breath, only to rejoin your lips a second later with a passionate desperation. every time your lips reconnected, your adrenaline was reinstalled as yunjin kissed you.

the blanket was forgotten as it slipped off the bed into a heap on the floor.

#huh yunjin #huh yunjin x reader #yunjin x reader #yunjin #le sserafim x reader #le sserafim #kpop #kpop x reader #gxg #fem reader #drabble

[corpsebasil]

Love Me Harder

DONT TOUCH ME RN IM JUMPING AROUND THE ROOM

When Ethan accidentally hurts his girlfriend, his fear of hurting her again makes him push her away.

He’d cut you.

So shallowly it was practically a scratch, but you still slapped a hand over your arm as you stared, wide eyed, at Ghostface. You could’ve sworn he’d pulled back, had tried not to do it, when he jumped away from you almost as fast as you did from him. And then Tara was grabbing you, yanking you after them, even as it took Ghostface half a second to recover his senses and give chase.

You’d refused very adamantly to go across the ladder. You were the last one in line, shaking as you looked at the drop. Anika went before you, encouraged by Mindy and Sam to hurry the fuck up, and she’d just made it across to the window beyond when Ghostface burst into the room.

He took one look at you and paused; you were trembling, gripping the windowpane, your eyes glued to the long distance below. Your fear of heights was so bad you could hardly take an elevator, let alone crawl across a ladder to a window several feet away.

“I cant do it.” You wept, shaking your head as your friends screamed at you, urging you to come on. You turned, your panic rising as you saw Ghostface approaching slowly, your cries coming faster and more frantic. “I cant do it please don’t hurt me don’t—” Your scream was abruptly cut off when he passed you, moving to toss the ladder onto the ground below.

Effectively trapping you.

Tara was sobbing loudly as Mindy yelled out curses; you were sure Anika needed to go to the hospital. You were praying someone had called the police.

“Would you hurt a defenseless damsel in distress?” You asked, feeling hysterical as Ghostface turned his head, fixing that cold mask’s stare onto your shaking frame. You inched away, eyeing the bedroom door. “Wait look, what’s that!” He actually looked, turning, when you pointed behind him. Then you ran for it. “No!” You screeched as he tripped you, your body crashing down onto the carpet.

And just as you were sure you were going to die, all because you saw that scene from Nerve and didn’t feel like reenacting it, you heard shouting and cop sirens coming from downstairs and outside. You looked over your shoulder; Ghostface pointed his knife at you, as if in warning, and fled.

Now you sat on the edge of an ambulance, Tara’s hand laced with your own. Your tears had long since dried on your face but you still trembled. Anika had been rushed to the hospital, the police insisting the rest of you stay at the scene, but you’d been told it was uncertain if she’d live.

Mindy had torn into you over your resistance to cross the ladder, but, after seeing your haunted expression, had went on to thank you for letting Anika go first. If you’d have crossed and then froze, paralyzed by fear of falling, she would’ve been left to die.

“Y/N.” Tara whispered, giving your hand a squeeze. You looked up and saw Ethan, a concerned look on his face as he ducked under the crime tape and moved towards you.

Chad gave you a warning glance and moved off off of the ambulance; he was as protective of you as if you were his own sister and as you watched him grab your boyfriend and slam him against a car, you couldn’t help but feel a twinge of gratitude at his protectiveness. But you still tensed up, rising a bit from your seat to help.

“Dude, I was in a study hall with a hundred other people. You can ask any of them.” Ethan was saying as you stood.

“Y/N, don’t.” Mindy warned, grabbing your hand as Tara shot you a surprised look. “He could be Ghostface. We can’t trust his ass.”

“I trust him.” You argued, pulling away from her and moving to Ethan. Chad shook his head at you, disapproving, even as you pushed past and wrapped your arms around the brunet boy.

“Oh my god.” Ethan gasped, seeing the bandage wrapped around your arm. He hugged you back, but hesitantly. You’d ignored the way he seemed to stiffen when you held him, but felt a twinge of hurt when he pulled away too quickly. “Who?” He asked, nodding towards the jumble of police officers.

“Quinn.” You said, sniffing, and wiped your cheek with the back of your hand. “And Anika got stabbed. She’s in the hospital—they don’t know if she’ll make it.”

“And you—” an odd look crossed his face as he took in the sight of your arm again.

“I’m fine.” You told him, eager for him to hold you again, but he didn’t. He seemed to take a step back, away from you, like he didn’t want you to touch him. “I couldn’t cross the ladder. He almost had me, E.”

“That’s—” he swallowed. “That sucks. Im sorry.”

“That sucks?” You asked, eyebrows furrowing as you looked at him. He was staring behind you, avoiding your eyes. You’d expected him to be upset; you’d almost died, and he didn’t even have the decency to look too unhappy about it? “Ethan what—”

“Come on, Y/N.” Tara called, but you only stared at Ethan, searching his face for any signs of grief or worry for your safety.

“Did you even hear what I said?” Your voice cracked and he finally looked at you, a frown pulling at his mouth. “Ethan?”

“I heard you.” He said simply and you felt like he’d punched you in the gut. You took a step away, your mouth trembling as he stared at you with a look of blankness.

“Y/N, come on. We’re going to check on Anika.” Tara called you again. The entire group was listening to this exchange. You felt mortified, and hurt, and slightly heartbroken. So you turned, trying not to cry as you climbed into the back of the ambulance, Tara immediately scooting in and wrapping an arm around your shoulders.

“You’re at the top of my list.” You heard Mindy tell Ethan, but you didn’t look at him again, not until you heard Chad say something you couldn’t hear. You saw Ethan’s face grow pale, his eyes finding your own and, right before the doors of the ambulance shut behind the four of you, hurt and fear crossed his expression.

-

It had been days since he’d spoken to you.

The two of you hadn’t talked since the night at Tara’s apartment and you were growing more and more anxious by the day. You’d called him about a hundred times and, when you saw him at school, he dodged you. Your heart was breaking; you loved him, had thought he loved you, and he wouldn’t even speak to you.

So you found yourself at Chad’s dorm, knocking harshly against the door as you wiped the tears of frustration from your face. You didn’t know what to do—yell at him, break up with him, you didn’t know.

Chad opened the door, took in your expression, and shook his head.

“He uh, he can’t talk to you.”

“Why not?” You asked, pushing passed the boy and into the room. He grabbed your hand and, though you tugged, he was stronger than you.

“He’s in—I don’t know he’s been like catatonic the past few days. He says he doesn’t want to see you, I’m sorry.” When you stared, chest rising and falling at a rapid clip, he added, “maybe it’s for the best, Y/N.”

“Fuck that.” You snapped, wrenching your hand away, and moved to Ethan’s room. “You wanna explain what the fuck is going on?” You asked, opening his door and slamming it roughly behind you.

He was already standing, expression pained as you heaved for breath. Your heart was racing so fast you could barely think.

“Y/N, listen,” he started, in a calm tone that infuriated you. “it’s not your fault. I just think that maybe this isn’t working out and—”

“What? The day before we got attacked you said you loved me. You love me. And then all of a sudden, couple days later, and you just—don’t anymore?”

“Y/N—”

“No. You’re gonna tell me the real reason, E. It is because you’re afraid? Did me getting hurt freak you out so bad you’re pushing me away?” Then you paused, your breath hitching as tears began to slip down your cheeks. “Or did you lie? You—” You covered your mouth and turned away, unable to look at him.

“Y/N, please.” Ethan sighed, coming up behind you to touch your waist. He pressed his face against your shoulder as you cried, your body trembling as you fought the urge to sink back into his hold. “I didn’t lie. I love you.”

“Then why?” You breathed, turning to face him. His expression was the most agonized you’d ever seen it, and your stomach turned. “Why, Ethan?”

“I cant—” He shook his head once, twice. “I cant lose you. I don’t want you hurt.”

“Then stay with me. Be with me and we’ll stick together. Ghostface is dumb and we’re smart, remember? We can try and fight—”

“Please go.” He begged, resting his forehead onto your own. “This is hard for me. I’ve never loved anyone the way I love you.”

“I’m not going anywhere.” You murmured, clasping his neck in your hands. Your fingers brushed against his hair as you looked at him, taking in the pained look on his face. “We’re a team? Aren’t we?”

He sniffed and nodded, allowing you to lean up and, as soft as you could, brush a kiss against his mouth.

“I’m sorry, baby.” He whispered, holding you close to him. “I’m so fucking sorry for hurting you.”

“It’s okay.” You told him, kissing him again, and allowed him tug you impossibly close, forgiving him with every inch of your being.

#she doesn’t even know his double meaning by sorry I hurt you #ethan landry #scream six #ethan landry angst #got me crying in the club #Jack champion

[2012wannabe]

10 minutes vs. A lifetime

my first fic in years! Lemme know what u think!!

wc: 1k

cw: Abby Anderson x AFAB!reader(reader has breasts), reader has a history of sa/rape by a man and has a panic attack during sex. honestly just some mentally ill shit

Notes for my fanfiction

Tugging Abby’s arm, you pulled her into your living room from your kitchen and firmly pulled her into a kiss.

“What’s this?”

“I can do it. I think I can.”

“Are you sure you want this? I don’t want you to do this because you think you have to.”

“I appreciate that,” you said with a small smile.

“But I promise you that I want this.” You grabbed her arms, touching her hands and her wrists. You had always been obsessed with her arms, not just her biceps and her shoulders but her forearms down to her fingers, they just caught your eye every time especially when she wore those muscle tanks you like. Abby nodded and kissed you back, and you were excited. Not just horny excited, but excited.

Sometimes you went through phases where all you could think about were his hands and his touch leading to you having panic attacks when you had sex. You couldn't separate her touch from his and you inexplicably hated it. You loved Abby, and not being able to be intimate with her made you sad. She was so good about it too, saying that she’d gladly be celibate if it meant she got to be with you. (You cried after because of how much she loved you and she looked so concerned until you explained).

You pulled your shirt over your head and tried to unclasp your bra all sexy knowing how much Abby loved your breasts. You kissed her again and placed her hands on your waist letting her feel you up and rubbing down your back to grab your butt and slap it. You gasped into the kiss when she did and pushed yourself closer to her.

“I fucking love you.” She whispered.

“I fucking love you too.”

You pushed her to sit down on the couch, sitting on her lap and grinding against her. It had been so long, too long. Abby mumbled something you didn’t quite catch but you didn’t care, even just grinding against her thigh through your pants and hers sent a shock down to your core. She moved you momentarily to take off her pants and welcomed you back in her arms. You kissed again and let her feel and grope your butt and thighs when all of a sudden a little twinge of negative emotion started in your chest. You couldn't tell what it was quite yet but your brain scrambled knowing a panic attack was near. You kissed her more fiercely because you really did want this. She picked you up and laid you on the couch unbuttoning your pants and that little tiny twinge turned into something much more. Your heart started beating rapidly, palpitating so much so that you heard and felt it in your ears and chest. You lost your breath, starting to hyperventilate looking up at her panicked but mostly sad. She left your pants alone and asked,

“Are you okay baby?” She knew it was a pointless question, but talking grounded you. You wanted to say you were okay, but your eyes watered and tears leaked down your cheeks. Softly touching your face, she wiped your tears and sat you up still crying.

“I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry.” You hiccupped.

“I know you feel like you have to say it but I promise you that you don't have to apologize. It's okay. It's okay my love.”

“Fuck, why can’t I just do this?” You muttered. You clung to Abby's touch, finding solace in her unwavering presence.

"I'm here," Abby murmured softly.

"You're not alone. I love you.” She said, moving to get your shirt.

“Is it okay if I, or do you need to do it?”

“It's okay, you can do it.” You tried to smile at her but it came out pained. I wish it was over, you thought. Why is it that ten minutes for him had to become a whole lifetime for me? You cried even harder with the panic attack over with and buried your head in your arms. She gently raised your arms, slipping your shirt over your head and still sat right by your side, rubbing circles into your back and whispering comforting words to you which in a way made you feel worse. You didn't want Abby to have to deal with your problems and as much as you knew she would be appalled if you ever said it you still felt like you were a burden to her. You loved the feeling of being taken care of but you felt bad when people did. You felt guilty and unworthy even though you knew consciously you were absolutely worthy of love and care. Especially not being able to do something as natural as have sex with your romantic partner made you feel like you weren’t enough. Your lip quivered again and all you could do is cry into her shoulder and rush out another string of apologies. She continued to comfort you until the tears stopped and you were finally able to catch your breathe and ask,

“Do you mind if I have a moment to myself? I just want to sleep.”

“Of course.” She said giving you a genuine smile. Your heart twisted a bit but you got into you and Abby’s shared bed and wrapped your arms around yourself under the covers. You tried to close your eyes but your brain wouldn’t let up. Some time passed and you rolled around despite the whole ordeal exhausting you.

“Abby?” You called.

“Yeah?” She called back, instantly walking over into the bedroom.

“Can you lay with me?”

“Of course baby.” So she got into bed and you wrapped her arm around you and cuddled into her anyway already feeling your body relax.

“I’m sorry you have to deal with my problems.”

“I love you so so so much, you know that right?”

“I know.”

“And you know you will never ever ever be a burden to me right?” Fuck.

“Yeah I know.” You kissed her for the last time that night and let her love be the last thing you felt before you drifted off to sleep.

#abby anderson #abby anderson blurb #abby anderson fanfic #abby anderson fic #abby the last of us #abby tlou #abby anderson fluff #abby anderson x female reader #abby anderson x you #hurt/comfort #abby anderson x reader #reader angst #rapevictim #rapesurvivor #jackwrites

[stray-cat-21]

Kissed just to be kissed part 2💋!!

The long awaited rerelease of the sequel to kissed just to be kissed hope you enjoy it. Sorry it took so long I like the way this one came out a lot better than the last one.

Loud poppy music blaring from speakers, drunk or high teenagers and young adults. Safe to say this was not Eddie Munson’s scene but here he sat in a circle with a small group of kids from the party who wanted to play a silly kids game, spin the bottle.

Normally Eddie would have excused himself or even left at this point but (Y/n) was here and sat in the circle so even if he wasn’t playing he needed to be close by.

To make matters worse due to both their schedules he hadn’t seen her all day or gotten any kind of affection from her let alone a kiss.

He had expected one when they sat down during the calm before the storm but she was too distracted taking to Steve and Robin.

The fact that when the bottle pointed at (Y/n) it also pointed at Steve should have brought Eddie some comfort. Steve was a good man after all, he wouldn’t try anything especially not tonight.

Unfortunately Steve wasn’t the problem it was everyone else’s reactions mixed with how natural their kiss was that stuck a dagger right through Eddie’s chest.

There was no awkwardness to it and no accusations of losing a bet followed either.

In fact what did follow was someone slapping Steve on the back for getting to kiss her.

Before Eddie can even spare a glimpse (Y/n)’s way he’s storming off outside.

He tried to calm himself by having a smoke but it seemed all he could focus on was the bitter taste in his mouth.

“Eddie what’s wrong why’d you take off like that?”

“I’m fine sweetheart go back inside.”

“I don’t want to go back in without you.”

He hates the twinge that sends right to his heart.

“It’s cold out here.”

She doesn’t listen staying in place despite her lack of a coat paired with a particularly hard gust of window.

Eddie sighs getting rid of his cigarette before shoving his jacket off his shoulders and handing it to her.

“Take this at least.”

She smiles gratefully covering her bare shoulders.

“Thank you Eds.”

She tried to kiss his cheek while he helped her with the jacket but he jerked away making her frown.

“What’s wrong talk to me please.”

“Why didn’t you kiss me when we sat down and you leaned over to grab your drink? Normally you would have kissed me.”

“I don’t know you looked uncomfortable as it was I didn’t want to make it worse.”

Eddie scoffs shaking his head.

“Didn’t want to make it worse or didn’t want king Steve back there to see?”

“What why would I care what Steve sees?”

“I don’t know you tell me you’re the one kissing him.”

“Yeah for a game, I don’t understand Eddie why are you getting so upset about this?”

“Because those are my kisses! Mine not Steve’s!”

The sentence is followed by a thick heavy silence.

It clicked to(Y/n), he was jealous.

In his head Eddie knows he sounds like a petulant child. An angry little boy fighting over his favorite toy. But right now that doesn’t matter to him.

“It’s not-”

“I mean fuck I’m so stupid!”

“You aren’t stupid!”

“Clearly I am because I fooled myself that somehow you weren’t gonna get taken from me like every other good thing in my god damn life.”

“I’m not going anywhere-”

“I get it he’s king Steve and I’m just the freak! You should be with someone like him, everyone fucking sees it. They see you kissing me and wonder what bet you lost or how good of a deal you must be getting on weed because why else would you be kissing the freak show.”

“No one thinks that Eddie at least not anyone that matters.”

“Oh no princess our friends see it. They’ve been talking about it since you started kissing me. Hell even Henderson thought you had some body snatchers thing going on because why the hell else would you be kissing me.”

“Then they’re wrong!”

“Maybe guys like me deserve to be kissed but not by someone like you.”

“That’s not true you do deserve to be kissed by me really! Let’s just go talk about this.”

“It’s fine (Y/n) your charity work is over. Whatever this is, is done. I should have thanked you for the first one and left it at that.”

(Y/n), not sweetheart, not princess just her name. It stung more than most of what he said.

“You aren’t charity work Eddie I kissed you because that’s what I wanted I mean it.”

“Just go back inside it’s cold out here.”

“No not without you please let’s talk about this.”

“I don’t belong in there just as much as I don’t belong with you.”

With that Eddie disappears into his van and down the road.

(Y/n) stands there for a minute letting the tears fall staring at the spot his van had been parked.

There’s a long pause where the only sound filling the quiet night air is the sound of her quiet cries.

It takes about five minutes before someone clears their throat.

“I’m sorry if I caused trouble between you two.”

“It’s alright Steve you didn’t do anything on purpose.”

“You should go after him.”

“I don’t think he wants to be around me right now.”

“Look Munson gave me some good advice once and I really should have listened to him. And he looks at you the way I’m sure I look at my girl. Don’t let a fight be what keeps you guys apart.”

“He’s a smart man when he wants to be.”

“You want me to take you home?”

(Y/n) nods wiping away a few stray tears.

Steve wraps an arm around her shoulders leading her off to the car.

At the trailer Eddie slumps down onto the couch earning a concerned look from his uncle who’s sat in his recliner.

“You’re home early.”

“Yeah.”

“Did you and (Y/n) have a fight?”

“How do you know something happened with (Y/n)?”

“No one else could have you so upset so cut the crap boy what’s goin on?”

“I ended things. She shouldn’t be slumming it with a guy like me. She deserves better.”

“That has to be the dumbest fuckin thing I’ve ever heard you say and you’ve said some stupid shit.”

“It’s true she shouldn’t be wasting time kissing me. Not when she should be with someone like Steve Harrington.”

“Is he the one with the hair? Why are you worryin about her kissin him? Did he put the moves on her or somethin?”

“We were playing this game and she had to kiss Steve and they- they just looked so right together.”

“Oh well I didn’t realize it was something so serious.”

“It is serious Wayne! They looked so good together, better than we do. Like she should be kissing him not settling with the trailer park freak.”

“Now you knock that off!”

It was rare that Wayne raised his voice towards his nephew. He usually only saved the guardian card for when Eddie wasn’t doing so well.

“I won’t listen to talk like that. For one reason or another that girl clearly cares about you a lot. And I know that she doesn’t care about any of that stuff you’re rantin on about. Don’t go screwin up a good thing because you’re getting in your own head.”

“I’m gonna go listen to music, need to clear my head.”

“Just think about it kid. She makes you happy, I don’t want to see you miss out on something good because you talked yourself out of it before it could start.”

The next day Eddie mopes around the trailer blaring his music, practicing the newest Metallica song, and smoking.

It’s storming hard like raining sideways hard. The fat drops drumming against the metal of the trailer. Trees heavily swaying to their sides. Thunder so loud it rattled the windows.

Eddie was surprised when a knock could be heard from the door.

Wayne who was getting ready to leave for work shared the same confused look.

Eddie shrugged moving to the door. He was even more surprised to see Dustin Henderson dressed in a yellow rain coat standing with his bike. He was partially out of breath panting.

“You live ridiculously far away you know that?”

“What the hell are you doing here Henderson?”

Eddie grabs the younger boy by the back of his collar yanking him into the trailer.

Dustin shoved the drenched hood of his coat down glaring up at Eddie.

Normally the young boy would be too intimidated to be so bold to the dungeon master but right now he was pissed.

“Are you crazy? You broke (Y/n)’s heart at that party you guys when to yesterday you know that right?”

“Dustin listen you don’t-”

“No you don’t get it Eddie. We didn’t tease you because we thought you weren’t good enough for (Y/n) we teased you about it because it’s so blatantly obvious to everyone but the two of you how in love you guys are! Because we’ve been talking about how long it would take for months and when you guys started kissing we hoped but you’d catch on finally but clearly you’re dumber than that!”

Eddie has his hands on his hips listening to the boys rant and it makes a lot more sense than the few people he could call friends mocking him.

His heart sinks knowing how much he hurt her.

“I really broke her heart?”

“Yes dude she’s crushed! After you left yesterday Steve drove her home and she didn’t stop crying the whole way. Believe it or not girls don’t just go around kissing people that they don’t have feelings for! She loves you a lot for some reason and you’re blowing it!”

“Shit.”

“The guys and I talked and we really don’t want to lose her at Hellfire because you were too much of a chicken to ask her out! It’s bad enough I have to deal with this shit with Steve I don’t want to hear it from you too!”

Eddie’s already started tugging on his leather jacket and shoving his shoes on.

Eddie thought back on Harrington’s situation with Wheeler and his stomach nearly dropped to his feet. That’s not what he wanted not with (Y/n).

He wanted to kiss her and hold her and be like all those stupid couples in the cheesy rom coms he avoided at Family Video. He didn’t want to be the cynical man his parents failed marriage created. He wasn’t going to be that guy, not anymore.

Dustin sighed looking up at Eddie’s hurt expression.

“Look, Steve’s with her at the diner something about wanting to take her out and at least cheer her up. I’m sure you could still find them there.”

Dustin barely managed to get the sentence out before Eddie’s slamming the door open taking off outside.

Dustin takes off after him hopping into the passenger seat.

Eddie must break at least five traffic laws on the way to the diner causing Dustin to clutch the handle on the door for dear life complaining about getting sick several times only for Eddie to reply “You hurl in my van you’re cleaning it up Henderson.”

Dustin literally thanks god with the van hastily pulls into one of the last two vacant parking spots at the crowded diner.

Eddie throws open his door making long strides to the door.

By the time he was even to the sidewalk he was drenched. Brown wavy hair sticking to his face water dripping off his clothes even his white sneakers were full of water.

From where he stands he can see (Y/n) and Steve beginning exit the establishment. The part of Eddie’s brain that usually told him to tuck tail and run seemed to be fast asleep because he’s rooted in his spot despite the fact that there’s no cover from the rain.

Steve and (Y/n) are standing in the vestibule (Y/n) holding brown to go bags while he fumbled with an umbrella.

Eddie’s eyes meet (y/n)’s through the glass window.

Her amused smile falls into a look Eddie can’t place but before he can think too hard about it she’s shoving the bags into Steve’s arms running out the door.

Contrary to (Y/n) Steve seemed much less surprised by the whole ordeal.

“Eddie?”

She’s standing in front of him even with the sky flooding down on them.

Eddie doesn’t respond staring at her.

How could he have been so stupid before.

“I was wrong. Like really fucking wrong. Like more wrong than people who say that poison is a metal band.” (Sorry if that insults anyone it just sounded like something he would say and they were as close as I could think of for a ‘poser’ style band he might disagree with)

“About what, what are you doing here?”

“I was wrong about everything sweetheart fucking everything. I don’t want to give up even if I probably should! You are mine okay not Steve’s or any one else’s, mine. Screw what everyone else thinks, screw what I thought it doesn’t matter! I’m not gonna lose you because I don’t want to lose you not now not ever okay?”

Before she can even think of responding he steps closer. In a heartbeat his hands are cupping her face his intense brown eyes watery as they are bore into her own.

She whispers his name but it’s too late Eddie’s already connecting their lips together.

It doesn’t take her anytime to react before she’s grabbing at his denim vest stepping closer.

Eddie’s heart his hammering in his chest so hard he’s surprised it hasn’t stopped.

When they pull apart they’re both breathless and his forehead rests against her own.

“Okay maybe I was right about one part.”

“What’s that Ed’s?”

“Those are definitely my kisses.”

His grin is a bit cocky but (Y/n) can’t seem to mind right now.

“Told you, you deserved to be kissed for real.”

Steve clearing his throat causes the two to take a step back.

He’s stood under the umbrella food in hand smiling similarly to how a proud parent does.

“Here’s your food, I’ll go grab Henderson.”

He passes the bags to Eddie.

Steve doesn’t linger moving to Eddie’s van.

Eddie looks to (y/n) with a questioning look.

“The food was for us I was hoping to bring it by and we could talk.”

“How about we take it out to lovers lake and have a picnic in the van? Then after we can have our first real kiss not as friends?”

They’re both grinning ear to ear.

“Does that mean I can’t kiss you the whole way there?” (Y/n) teases moving towards the van.

“Uh shit no you better I’m afraid I need those kisses princess I’ve gone without them for too long if I don’t get one soon I’ll just die.”

“Get in the van drama queen and I’ll kiss you as much as you want!”

“Don’t speak too soon princess your lips might get sore.”

Tags of incredibly sweet people:

@cal-is-not-on-branding

@lil-quinnie

@sister-cirice

@metalsoutherncatlady

#eddie stranger things #eddie munson x reader #stranger things x reader #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson/reader #eddie munson/you #eddie munson x you #eddie x cheerleader!reader #eddie munson x popular!reader #kissedjusttobekissed

[flyingraijin]

sunshine | part II

Summary: Hanta just wants to marry you. In hindsight, it's been a long time coming.

Pairing: Hanta Sero x fem!reader

Warnings: Alternate timelines, friends to lovers/established relationship, swearing, smut

Word Count: 11 684

Part 2 of 4 | Masterlist

Note: Once again, I edited this in a rush. But it's finally up, after months and months :)

13 years old

The strong sting of antiseptic is what slaps you in the face the moment that you step into the school nurse's room. The whole place has always been uncomfortably sterile, with barely a human touch anywhere to ward off the artificial feeling of the room. You don't turn away though, despite how you'd like to, and instead move deeper into the room to allow the nervous boy behind you to follow you through the door. 

"R-really," Sero says, coming to stand awkwardly in front of the single, metal-framed examination bed. "It's okay. You don't need to-" 

You pay him no mind, however, as you step over in the direction of the medicinal cabinet. It's unlocked, open for student to use if need be - although the school is always very cautious about keeping potentially dangerous medication or equipments so readily available- and you already have your sights set on a roll of thin bandages before you even pull open the glass door. 

"Sit," you tell Sero over your shoulder as you gather what you need. "It's okay, I can take care of this." 

Sero lets out a muffled grunt, words you can not decipher and don't try to. However, then comes the telltale creaking of springs that lets you know he's done as you suggested and taken a seat on the bed. 

There's a tension in the room, between the both of you. But you don't fully understand what it is. Quite possibly, it has something to do with the fact that you were sitting in his lap not ten minutes ago, although that's not something you really want to acknowledge. All you can tell is that, once you've got your hands full of antiseptic spray, Bactroban and bandages, and you turn back around only to accidentally meet his eyes, you can't help but blush a little bit and look away. 

God, this is embarrassing. 

Sero shifts a little uncomfortably on the bed as you go to set the stuff down beside him. His long legs are slightly spread, with his forearms resting on his thighs and his spine a little hunched. Visibly, he's tense and uncomfortable, and while you chalk it up to the pain of his scratch, you know it's probably more than that too. 

He probably thinks you're a real idiot. 

You sigh softly and busy yourself with tearing away the plastic wrapper that covers the roll of bandage. You don't blame him, honestly - you had absolutely come across as a total airhead back there, stuttering and tripping over Yuuta like an absolute mess. You don't even want to begin to imagine what Yuuta himself must think, all things considered, and it makes your cheeks flush with an even fiercer heat when you feel Hanta's gaze on the side of your head.

You push through it though, as best you can, because even if he does think you're pretty stupid, you don't have to interact with him ever again after this if you don't want to. 

At least, that's what you tell yourself. 

"Can you roll your sleeve up a little higher?: you ask him in a soft voice as you go to take another look at the long scratch. Sero does as you ask, or tries at least. The fabric of his jumper goes up to just before the crook of his elbow and no further, even when he tries to tug at it. 

"That, uh, as far as it'll go," Sero mumbles then and when you glance up at his face, he looks away, embarrassed. "My - My quirk… it can't… Well, it's, uh, in the way." 

"Oh," is all you can muster in return because it's all just so awkward. You honestly feel like you're being suffocated. 

Thankfully, despite the resistance, his sleeve does go up high enough for you to see the entire scratch. It's worse when you look at it close, and is bleeding even more heavily now. Something squeamish twinges in the back of your mind, but you push it away and lean over to pick up the antiseptic spray and cotton wads. 

"I'm sorry," you apologise to him, more to be polite than anything else. "This will probably sting quite a bit." 

Hanta just shakes his head. "It's okay, I can handle the pain." 

Even so, his face still screws up when you begin to clean the scratch with the antiseptic spray. 

You feel the twinge of guilt as your eye flicker from his arm to his face and then back to his arm. It's so obvious he's trying to put on a tough face for your sake, despite the fact that it's your fault that he's here in the first place. You might feel awkward around him, but it's not as if you dislike Sero. And it's because of this - and to have an excuse of breaking the smothering silence - that you speak. 

"You've got pretty insane reflexes. You caught me really quickly." 

Sero gulps, his hand tensing into a fist for a second before relaxing. "Uh, yeah," he answers, attempt to talk through the sting. "I-it's something I've been training tor a while. I mean, naturally I've got pretty fast reaction time but I've been working on them even more now." 

"You've been training?" you ask, feigning curiosity to keep him distracted. "Any particular reason why?" 

"Ah, well," he replies and you notice a notable slump in his tense shoulders. "It's all a part of my preparation to take the UA entrance exam next year." 

"UA?" This time, your interest is genuinely peaked and you look up from what you're doing to meet his eyes. He looks back at you, and for the first time ever you don't think you see a waver in his gaze. He must be comfortable talking about this topic. 

"You want to go to UA?" 

"I do," Sero confirms with a nod of his head. "It's kind of… all I've ever wanted to do." 

"The hero course? Or something different?" you question before you can stop yourself. Sero blinks at your eagerness. 

"The hero course," he confirms.

"So you wanna be a pro-hero?" 

Sero nods again and raises a hand to scratch awkwardly at the back of his head. "Since I was little, yeah," he mumbles. "It's kind of… my dream?" 

He says it like a very bashful, very embarrassed question, and yet you can't help but smile at it. You did not know this about Sero at all; the fact that he wanted to go into UA's hero course was not something you'd ever even considered as a possibility. Not that you had any reason to, since you and he had only interacted to the very bare minimum before now. However, for some odd reason, the knowledge that he too is applying to UA high-school, come next year autumn, sends a warmth flooding through your chest. Suddenly, you don't feel as alone. 

"That's really cool," you tell him, offering a bright smile. Then it turns sheepish. "Sorry about all the questions. I guess I'm just curious because I also wanna go to UA." 

"You do?" The way he perks up so suddenly reminds you of a literal puppy. "You want to go to UA?" 

"Yeah," you tell him, still smiling. You set the antiseptic spray down, finished with cleaning up his arm and go to grab the roll of bandage. "Not the hero course though. I'm hoping to get into the support course." 

"The support course?" Sero's expression falters only briefly as you begin to wind the soft white cloth tightly around his forearm. "You like that stuff." 

You nod mildly, your focus now on wrapping the bandage as evenly as possible. "Yeah. I've been into all those gadgety things since I was a kid. Although," you repress a small snort, "I didn't always know it." 

When you glance back up at Sero, he gives you a questioning look and it prompts you to continue. "When I was younger," you explain, "I always thought I was gonna be a hero. I was really obsessed with certain pros, like Ereasurehead and Sir Nighteye - the heroes who relied a lot on support items. I thought it would be so cool to have all the gadgets and stuff. I went all the way up until elementary school convinced I was going to become a pro-hero. Until in sixth grade, when I tried to build Erasurehead's capture weapon for a science fair, and I realised that what I was actually interested in was the support gear." 

You can't help but chuckle to yourself at the memory, taken back to that day when you'd stood with the first place rosette pinned to your shirt, holding your prized capture weapon in front of all the other participants of the fair, having a crisis over the fact that your entire career plan had been turned on its head. 

"I haven't looked back since then," you continue with a shrug. "And since UA's got the best support course around, I figured that where I'd aim to be." 

When you stop talking, you realise that Sero is looking at you with an odd expression on his face. There's a warmth in his eyes you haven't seen before and you almost want to say he's on the verge of smiling, with the way the corner of his mouth his tilted upwards. 

"I didn't know that at all," he admits, almost a little sheepish. You shrug in response, reaching out for a piece of tape to stick down the edge if the bandage with. 

"I didn't expect you to. I don't talk about it much, not even to my friends. It's kind of like my little secret."

Which makes it pretty odd that you'd just spilled your guts to someone who's in essence a total stranger, you realise suddenly, although you don't say it out loud. 

Sero flexes his hand once you stand back, the bandage finally secure and settled in place. The clean whiteness of the fabric stands out in start contrast against his olive toned skin, and you can't help but feel a little guilty again as you look at it. 

"Thank you," Sero says, and his voice sounds much stronger than it had when you'd first spoken to him earlier in the day. "I... Yeah, thanks." 

"It's no problem," you tell him, shaking your head as you begin to pack up what you'd taken from the cupboard. "The least I could do after I caused that whole mess." 

He just shakes his head slightly in response, scratching at his hair once again. And then, when you reach for the cupboard door, he slides off the bed onto his feet and opens it for you without a word.

You nod in appreciation to him as you put the things way. And then he closes the door again once you're done, leaving the both of you standing alone in the small room with empty hands and nothing more to do.

Like a ton of bricks, the awkwardness returns. 

"I, uh," you start, twisting your fingers together as you look from him to the door and back again. "Well, I guess I'd better get going." 

"Yeah," he says quietly in reply and you're almost disappointed that he doesn't try to stop you. "Me too." 

"So… see you around?" 

He nods and you just about ready to turn on your heel and bolt, wanting nothing more than to put as much distance between yourself and this horribly uncomfortable afternoon as possible. 

However, you're stopped short by a soft hand reaching out to grip your wrist. 

Sero says you name tentatively and for a second you swear something inside you just melts . 

"I, uh, liked talking to you today," Sero mumbles. When you turn around to look at him over your shoulder he's got his head down, his bangs shielding his eyes. "It - it was nice to get to know you a little. So, um… thank you." 

He glances up a little and his eyes meet yours. Both of you are flushing immensely. 

Your heart is pounding in your chest, but not in the bad way as you turn around to face him properly. For some reason, you twist your wrist a little in his grip and then grasp at his back, your fingers feather light against his skin. 

"Yeah," you mumble out and are surprised to find your voice is just as soft as his. "Yeah, you too." 

And just like that, you realise you don't mind this afternoon too much after all. 

23 years old

Hanta's patrol that afternoon isn't one of the worst he's ever had. But it isn't one of the best either. For some reason, it seems like the entire city is out and about today, forcing him to be extra alert as he walks through the streets in his sector, on the lookout for any unsavoury activity. Nothing major happens, thank goodness, however, he is faced with a few more domestic cases that - in his opinion at least - are more difficult to deal with than actual battles with villains. A lost kid in the park, a dog stuck in a gate, a worried young father who's baby pram blew away in the wind. All are of his concern and so he deals with all as quickly and efficiently as possible, smiling happily every time the job gets done. His heart longs for home though and he can't help but breathe a deep sigh of relief when his watch finally beeps 20:00, letting him know he's due to clock off. 

The rain starts just as he's stepping through the tall glass doors at the front of his agency building, the raindrops only just catching his heels. It's warm inside the reception area of his agency, something he is both grateful for and a little apprehensive of, as it draws attention to the way the slick material of his hero suit is sticking to his body. 

It has him shifting uncomfortably as he steps into the elevator and hits the button for the basement floor, which houses the gym, locker area and, mercifully, the showers. It's not often that he regrets many choices about his hero lifestyle but when he does, his suit it usually at the forefront of them. The design has changed only a little since his high-school days and remains as skin tight as ever, something Hanta loves and hates. Loves because it's aerodynamic and allows for him to do his best work. Plus, you like it a real lot. Hates because on days like this, even having done not much but walk around, he feels sticky and grimy and absolutely desperate to hop into a steaming shower. 

Thankfully, there's no one else in the licker room when he gets there - the three sidekicks he'd hired back at the beginning of April must all have started their patrols already - and so Hanta is free to strip down and step into one of the large, clean showers without any distractions. He lets out an audible sigh as the hot water finally hits him, steam immediately beginning to rise and fog up the air around him. His muscles are tired, despite the quiet day, and Hanta can't help but eagerly await the time he can crawl into bed beside you and go to sleep. 

He's got Boys Night first though, which he remembers with a slight furrow of his eyebrows. He'd promised he would be at Boys Night this week, and he doubts Denki will forgive him is he bails for a third time in a row. His shoulders slump a little in disappointment. 

Boys Night is a tradition that has held up since he, and all the other members of Class A back at UA, graduated. Every other week the boys of Class A, and sometimes Class B too, meet up at a group-favourite izakaya for drinks and snacks and to catch up. The guest list is always rotating, and it's always been more of a "if you can make it, come along" type of thing. Hanta still tries to go as often as he can though, even if it's just to get a chance to catch up with the former classmates who he probably wouldn't have made an effort to see otherwise. 

He's had to miss the last two, though, for reasons out of his control. The first was because he'd got held up at work, when Jester, one of his sidekicks, ended up in hospital after a pretty nasty encounter with some yakuza thugs. The second time was because you'd successful completed your first major brand deal with a well-known hero and Hanta had taken you put to dinner to celebrate. Because of this, he knows Denki will be on his ass to make an appearance tonight and as much as the idea makes his shoulders sag, he doesn't really mind. It might even give him an opportunity to chat to Bakugou about the whole wedding thing (although the likelihood that Bakugou will also be there without Kirishima to force him is very low) 

There's agency issued body wash sitting on one of the small shelves built into the corner of the dower, and when Hanta reaches for it and flips the cap open, he's hit by the small of white roses. It envelopes him as he pours some of the already foamy soap into his cupped palm, his mind suddenly taken back to a faint memory from way back in his first year of high school; a dark cupboard, fingers curling into the front of his shirt, soft breathe against the shell of his ear, whispers words against his skin…

"You smell like white roses and dark chocolate."

If only he'd known back then it'd be the start of something amazing, he'd probably would've tried to take in more. But he'd been do enraptured at the time, so completely out of it over the idea of sitting in the darkness with just you for seven minutes that he hadn't stopped to appreciate it like he should have. 

He can't deny though, that t hat memory is the one that prompted him, when it came time to choose the scent of the body wash in the agency showers, to choose white rose over everything else. And every time he catches it's scent, he can't help but think back. 

He finishes up with the rest of his shower quickly, and then changes into the fresh long-sleeve v-neck and sweatpants that are ready for him in his locker. His hair falls in a wet mop against the back of his neck, sending water droplets racing down his back, and he makes his best attempt to dry at it with his tower as he hooks his bag over his arm and heads back towards the elevator. He's almost done for the day, he thinks contentedly as the floor number pings and the elevator doors slide open for him. All he needs to do is clock out and then he'll be free. The thought makes his chest warm. 

It takes about 30 seconds to reach the top floor of the agency building. There's only offices up here; his, his assistants and those of the three sidekicks. His is the largest, the last door on the right which leads out into a large square room with a corner window, several tall bookshelves and a desk that Hanta still thinks is far too important for his little old self. The room is very dark when he steps inside, since the heavy curtains are drawn against the city lights, and it takes Hanta a few moments of dropping his bag by the door and then flicking at the light switch for the upward-facing lights in each corner of the room to blaze into life. 

Logging the occurrences of his patrol on his computer doesn't take Hanta long and before he really knows it, he's hitting save and sending the file off to his assistant. The paperwork side of being a hero isn't much fun but it is relatively quick and painless for the most part. And getting it done is always incredibly satisfying. After checking to make sure there aren't aren't other outstanding forms waiting for him, he powers down his monitor once again and gets up from his desk chair. His spine pops a little as he stretches it out, and then he's sauntering back out the room, flicking off the lights as he goes. He doesn't bother to take his bag with him - he's got the early morning shift tomorrow anyway so he'll be back here first thing.

As he heads back towards the elevator, he pops his head into his assistants office. She smiles up him, evidently in the midst of clocking out herself, and says, "You heading out?" 

Hanta nods. "Yeah. Got Boys Night to get to." 

She laughs. "Well have fun. Don't drink too much." 

"You know me," Hanta snorts in response. "I never do." 

And then he's gone, strolling back towards the elevator with and easy stride, his mind already turning to the izakaya and then, later on, to his evening with you. 

As if on a cue, he feels his cellphone buzz into life in his pockets just as the elevator doors slide open. He pulls the device out as he steps inside and as the screen brightens, he's treated to a new text from you. 

Her <33 

Are you coming home before you goes to boys night? 

Hanta leans back against the cool metal of the elevator wall as he swipes open the app. His fingers zoom across the keyboard as he types out his reply. 

Me

Wasn't planing to. I'm already a little late so I thought I'd go straight there. 

If that's okay? 

The little bubble that says you're typing something back appears almost as soon as he hits send on his own message. Hanta rolls his shoulder a little as he waits for you reply, wincing as he does so when the stiffness twangs in his joint. 

Her <33 

That's fine. Are you gonna be drinking tonight? 

Me 

Nah. I'm pretty sure Denki's planning to get wasted and since Kiri won't be there, he'll need a babysitter. 

Her <33  

Lmao. Well, have fun. Don't do stupid stuff. 

Me 

When do I ever? 

Her <33  

Don't make me answer that. 

Hanta snorts at your reply and pockets his phone once again as the elevator pings to a stop. The doors slide open smoothly and he steps out, heading straight for the main doors of the agency. It's still raining outside but not as badly, and as he ducks his way out of the doors and into the downpour, he can't help but feel like this evening will be a good time. 

As Hanta had expected, he is the last one of his former classmates to arrive at the izakaya. 

The whole area is already horribly crowded by the time he steps through the door, however someone has managed to grab the usual spot he and the rest of the Class A boys always take. It's a bit of a job to pick his way through the people towards the table without accidentally elbowing someone, but Hanta manages it somehow. And when he finally stops by the table surrounded by his friends, he greeted by a flurry of smiles. 

"Hanta!" greets Denki first, loud and already sounding slightly tipsy. He offers Hanta a fist first and Hanta reciprocates, knocking how own against it. "Man, I thought you'd abandoned us!" 

Hanta rolls his eyes playfully. "As if. I was just showering and stuff after patrol." 

"Nonetheless, we are all glad to see you," says Iida, smiling. He nods his head to the empty spot next to him, which Hanta takes without complaint. "So, how have you been? It feels like I haven't seen you in far too long!" 

Hanta shrugs and gives them all a brief overview of his life in the past couple of weeks. He looks around as he talks, noticing how there's more people here than usual. Including, surprisingly, Bakugou, who's sitting looking grouchy right across the table from Hanta.

It's nice to catch up with his old school friends. Almost all the boys of Class A have chosen to come this evening, with the only exceptions being Kirishima, for obvious reasons, Shoji, because he had some appointment to get to, and Tokoyami, who is currently in hospital after an incident with Dark Shadow. Even Midoriya has made it out and Hanta spends a few very enjoyable minutes trading stories with him about a smaller hero they'd both worked with recently. 

There's a pretty obvious elephant in the room, however, and once all the relevant topics like Kirishima's baby and Bakugou's upcoming wedding have been talked thread bare, all eyes turn to look curiously at Hanta. 

"Soooo," Denki draws out, grinning lopsided as he gives Hanta a knowing - and very drunk - look. "Like I said earlier, Mr Cellophane did something very exciting today!" 

Heat rushes right to Hanta's cheeks and he just about chokes on his water as the eyes on him suddenly become even more intense. "D-Denki," he mumbles, ducking his head a little so that his bangs hide his eyes. "It's really not that big a deal." 

"Nooo, it isssss," Denki slurs and chuckles sloppily. He takes another sip of his drink and points across the table at Hanta. "Go on, tell them. It's just the boys here, no one's gonna snitch!" 

"W-well," Hanta coughs and states down into his class. "Today, Denki and I went -" 

"Me and Hanta went to the jewellery store! That really fancy on on the promenade!" Denki blurts, interrupting him. 

"Uh, yeah," Hanta says, scratching at the back of his head. "I was just planning on looking around a bit but-" 

"Hanta bought a big shiny ring," says Denki grinning. He holds up his hand and wiggles his own bare ring finger. "For his giiiiiiirlfriend ." 

The table erupts. 

 "Y-you mean like an engagement ring?" Midoriya splutters, his eyes wide. "Wow, Sero, that's-!" 

"Fucking idiot," Bakugou's grumbling but there's a sparkle in his carmine eyes. "You have no idea how much fucking planning you're in for, I swear to-" 

"That's a very big step," Iida is musing, "although you two have been together for a long time. I'm sure you've thought this through. In any case-" 

"Congratulations," says Todoroki, reaching out to place a hand on Hanta's shoulder. The calm touch centre's Hanta a bit in the chaos and he turns to give his friend a weak smile. 

"Ah, well she hasn't said yes yet so…" 

"Oh but she will!" Ojiro says encouragingly across the table. He looks around, gaining the approving nods from the others. "She's totally crazy about you. I'd be willing to bet the idea of saying no won't even cross her mind." 

"You two have been together for a long time," Bakugou butts in once again. He scowls and jerks his head in Iida's direction. "Like Four-Eyes said. You two are so perfect for each other it's disgusting." 

"We're all rooting for you," Midoriya tells him, smiling widely. 

"Not me," pipes up another voice; Mineta is sitting beside Denki, scowling unhappily."Maybe if you two break up, I'll finally be able to get my hands on that hot- mhff!

But Denki wacks him over the back of the head and knocks his nose into his drink before he can finish his sentence. 

"So when are you planning to propose?" Todoroki asks, turning back to Hanta with a curious expression. "Soon?" 

"Ah." Hanta grins nervously and rubs hard at the back of his neck. He feels a little overwhelmed, especially now that all the pairs of eyes at the table are back on him once again. It's safe to say he's given his decision quite a bit of thought, however, he feels suddenly very unprepared as he looks back at all his friends waiting faces. 

Honestly, he hasn't expected to tell anyone until after it happened. That way he could avoid all the pressure - this pressure - from people other than himself over not fucking things up. 

"Not too soon," he says eventually. "I, uh, still would like to chat to her parents about it. And mine. And… just mentally prepare myself a little, ya know?" 

There are resounding nods all around the table, and a harsh chuckle from Bakugou. The blond sits back, giving Hanta a dark look from under one arched eyebrow as a cruel smirk plays at his lips. 

"All that mental prep shit does fuck all," he says bluntly, crossing his arms decidedly over his chest. "It's gonna be the most terrifying moment of your entire life. You're gonna be scared shitless." 

Hanta feels his stomach drop a little. While it's not usually the case, he feels far more inclined to listen to advice from Bakugou than any of the other at the table, since he's the only one who has actually done the damn thing before. 

"How-" Hanta starts, then stops, swallows, tries again. "How do I… not fuck it up?" 

Something in Katsuki's jaw twitches and he leans in, looking Hanta dead in the eye. 

"I'm gonna ask you this once because I honestly don't give a shit about your stupid love life," he grumbles out.  "Do you love her?: 

"Of course," Hanta replies, only for some reason it comes out as barely more than a whisper.

"How much?" 

"More than anything," Hanta says without evening having to think. The corner of Katsuki's mouth twitches upwards. 

"Then you're already doing everything you can, shit head," he says. "The rest is up to her. So fuckin' trust her, okay?" 

"Okay," Hanta breathes back. And suddenly, he feels a hundred times better. 

Trust you . Yes, he can definitely do that. 

13 years old

You find yourself staring at Sero the next day during class. And again the next day. And the next. Until suddenly week has gone by of you observing him and it's the last day of term. 

You’ve found out a lot about him during your starring. Not personal information. But the little things that all of a sudden you’ve started to notice. 

You’ve found that he never wears short sleeve shirts. And the the shirts he does where are always baggy and a little too big. You’ve found that he’s not always awkward and quiet; he’ll open up around some of his friends and you’ll hear him laughing across the classroom. But only some. You’ve found that he wears necklaces, but they’re always tucked away beneath the collars of his shirts. You’ve found that his ears are actually pierced but he doesn’t wear any earrings at school because it’s not part of the dress code. You’ve found that he actually puts a lot of effort into his studies, and he’s in the top five in the class. You’ve found that he goes to the gym to train every second afternoon. You’ve found that he doodles in his school books; usually, sketches of potential hero costumes. You’ve found that he genuinely cares about people, and he’ll always lend a hand, if quietly, when someone is in need of it. You’ve found that he loves manga, and will sometimes sit by himself at lunch, just reading. You’ve found that he has to tie his bangs up during tests, because they get in his face and distract him. You’ve found that he always has to be doing something with his hand to concentrate. 

And you’ve found that he actually also stares at you , a lot more than you’d previously realised.

Although, odd as is it, you don’t actually mind all that much. 

You don’t talk to him any more than you did before the whole incident in the nurse's office. But the atmosphere between you feels slightly warmer now. You smile when you meet his eyes, and most of the time, he smiles back.

(Or tries to at least, behind the bright red cheeks and wide eyes) 

For no reason at all, you feel closer to him. 

Unfortunately, it hasn’t gone unnoticed. 

They corner you when the bell of lunch goes on the last day of the spring term. You don’t think it’s what they’re doing at first; assuming with a bright-eyed innocence that they’d simple come to your table to chat a little before you all head to the cafeteria together. 

However when you look up and see the dark looks on all of your friend’s faces, something in your gut sinks a little. 

“We need to talk,” is what Shizuku says. And it's all you need to know something is wrong. 

It’s Suzuki who starts. She fiddles with her fingers, then the hem of her skirt, and then her fingers again. She seems awkward; they all do. Like she doesn’t quite know where to start. Immediately, an alarm bell goes off in your head. 

“Is something wrong?” you ask, just to break the silence. You don’t really need to ask - you’ve known all these girls for years. Shizuku and Suzuki have been with you since elementary school, and are probably the two closest people you have on the planet. You can read their faces right now. And you can tell that something is wrong. The real question is… what? 

“Well, yeah. Kinda. We, um, w-well,” Shizuku begins to stumble out. But she trips over the words, obviously knowing what she wants to say but not quite how to say it. 

Something deep within you goes cold. And you realise suddenly why they’re all here. And why they’re all looking at you . 

“Did… I do something?” you ask them, already knowing the answer. But also dreading it. 

The looks they give each other is all the answer you need. 

You zone out after that. Or not zone out - it’s more like you don’t process what’s happening. They - Shizuku and Suzuki - tell you a lot of things. Despite their awkwardness at the beginning, once they get going, they don’t ever seem to stop. They talk about how you’ve been distant, and how you haven’t paid attention to them. They talk about how they feel like you’re not putting effort into the friendship, at least not as much as they are. They talk about how you haven’t checked up on them recently. 

Shizuku says she “needs some space.”

And Suzuki says that “it would be better for both parties is we all just took a step back.”

You don’t really understand. You don’t even know where any of this is coming from. Your brain is struggling to process what’s happening because it’s all so sudden, and you don’t think you’ve been any different than normal - at least, not to them. 

You don’t get it. At all. But they don’t make any effort to explain things further. And then before you know it, you’re apologising. And thanking them for telling you, even though you’re not grateful for it at all. 

And then you’re making some shitty excuse about work you need to do, and you leave, taking all your things with you. 

You only really realise what’s actually just happened once you’re far away from the classroom, and standing sullenly in one of the empty outdoor courtyards. 

You think you cry then. You’re still not entirely sure as your brain spins and you replay your conversation over and over and over again in your mind. 

Then the sound of a stick cracking beneath someone’s foot breaks the still air and you whirl around to see none other than Sero, frozen in place a few metres behind you as he evidently tries to cross the courtyard in silence. 

For a moment, you stare at each other. 

Then Sero turn and takes a single step forward. He says you name, softly and worriedly, and you realise suddenly that he’s staring hard at your face. At your eyes. 

You put your hand up to touch the skin of your cheek, find it wet. Then hastily you scrub at it, rubbing away the tears that have fallen. 

“I’m fine,” you tell him shortly. Very shortly - in fact, your voice is clipped and harsh. Something flashes through his eyes at the sound of it, maybe hurt, maybe worry, and you almost expect him to turn away. It’s evident you don’t want him around right now, your tense shoulders and harsh eyes say that much. You’re caught off guard and you don’t want anyone to see you crying. For some reason, especially not him. 

But, much to your surprise, he doesn’t back down. Determination settles over his expression and he takes another step. 

And he says, “You’re not.” 

“I am.”

He shakes his head. “You’re crying.”

“I’m not.” 

“You are.”

You’re about to protest, because really he has no right to speak to you like that. He’s not being rude but he’s being firm and it has your gears grinding as you stand glaring at him. He doesn’t know me at all,  you think hotly, your hand curling into fists at your sides. He doesn’t know shit. Why is he…?  

But your thoughts trail off when he steps even closer and suddenly you’re close enough to see the real, genuine concern in his eyes. He cares, you realise with a violent start, your heart thudding so hard against your ribs it's almost painful. He actually cares. 

You're not entirely sure how to feel about that, and it makes even more tears well up in your eyes. You try to turn away, wanting to avoid his stare, but he catches you before you can, a gentle hand on your arm. His other hand goes to your shoulder as you're pulled in his direction and suddenly the pair of you are nose to nose. He's so close you can count his eyelashes. 

"Hey," he says as his eyes flicker back and forth between your own. His eyebrows scrunch up a little. "Hey, are you…okay?" 

And just like that you feel something crack deep inside you. The tears burn as they flood your eyes and your lip trembles. The ache in your chest is so intense it locks up your throat and it's all you can do to let out a single sob.

In hindsight, you're sure you'd really freaked Sero out. However he doesn't let you see any of it now, as he pulls you into a tight hug without a word. One of his hands slides around your waist while the other presses into the back of your head, keeping your nose buried in his shoulder. He shushes you softly, in a way that is so out of character for the awkward, stuttering boy you usually know that in any other situation you probably would've laughed. 

You don't now, obviously. Instead you hug him back, taking refuge in this new, unfamiliar comfort. You don't talk, don't try to explain what's going through your head; you just cry because it's really the only thing you can do right now. 

Neither of you are sure how long you end up standing there for. And you don't really care either way. Sero smells nice - very faintly like white rose and dark, rich chocolate- and already your heart rate is beginning to steady as you breathe him in. His arms around you are warm and you can feel his heartbeat in your own chest, steady and rhythmic. 

You only pull away when the school bell rings, loud and jarring across the courtyard. Your eyes widen a little and you all but stumble back as your cheeks burn with a bright flush. 

"U-um," you mumble out, avoiding Sero's eyes. "Sorry." 

He shakes his head, still watching you cautiously and you get the feeling he's worried that you're going to start crying again. 

"I'm fine," you reassure before he can ask, your hands dropping to smooth out the hem of your cardigan. "I just… yeah, um, sorry." 

"It's okay," he tells you genuinely, running a hand through his hair. "Just… are you sure you're good to go back to class?" 

You nod hastily. In truth you're not entirely sure - all your friends will be in that class and the idea of facing them all over again sends a special kind of pain through your chest. You don't have any other option though, and so you figure it's best to suck it up, just for the last few hours of the day. Then you can go on summer break and not have to be around them for a few weeks. 

You think you're hiding what's going through your mind pretty well, but when you look back up to meets Sero's eyes again, fully prepared to offer him a fake smile and an excuse, you see the knowing expression on his face. 

"Hey, if you want," he starts, reaching up to rub at the back of his neck. "I could… walk with you back to class? " 

"I…" you stop, staring at him. It's not the most monumental of offers and yet… it means something to you, something that you can't quite explain. 

"I'd… actually really appreciate that," you mumble out, staring down at your toes. "If… If it's okay with you." 

"O-of course!" Sero tells you and you notice his blush and stutter is returning. It brings a small smile to your lips. "We are in the same class so it's not like I'm going anywhere else anyway!" 

"R-right," you agree and tuck a strand of your hair behind your ear. "We should probably go…" 

"Yeah," he nods along. "Come on." 

The pair of you start walking and for a moment everything is silent. You can't help but sneak glances at him out of the corner of your eye and, you have a feeling that he's doing the same to you. It's awkward, really awkward, for a few seconds at least, until you reach the door back into the school. 

But then, when Sero holds it open for you and allows you to go through ahead of him, you grit your teeth and do something that, years later, you will credit as being the start if everything you ever had with Sero. 

You reach out and grab his hand. 

23 years old

Hanta gets home a lot later than he'd expected to. Usually these nights out with the boys wrap up after just a couple of hours, since there's almost always someone in the group drinking heavily enough to reach the point of incoherence less than forty minutes in. Tonight, however, despite the fact that Denki did eventually slump over the table and fall completely asleep, everyone had hung around a lot longer than normal.

Hanta doubts it has anything explicitly to do with him. The conversation he'd had with Bakugou wrapped up immediately after that last piece of advice and then Hanta himself had done everything to try and steer the topic if conversation to something different once again. He can't deny, however, that the energy around the table had changed a lot with Bakugou's words, growing lighter immediately and more cheerful. Hanta certainly felt it; that bubble had remained for the rest of the evening, even once it was over, sitting happily in his chest as he drove home and then when he unlocked the apartment door. 

He's not surprised to find everything in darkness once he steps inside. You don't usually wait up for him during events like these and he's glad you don't - you need every second of sleep you can get and he likes nothing better than to sneak in through the darkness and find you all curled up in the large king bed, more likely than not cuddling his pillow. 

This is why he doesn't bother turning any of the lights on as he sets his keys down, and why he bypasses everything else in the apartment to head right for the bedroom as soon as his shoes and coat are off. 

It's just a dark in there, he finds, as out in the rest of the house and for a moment he has to pause by the doorway and squint in an attempt to adjust his vision. It's a pretty dark night already, with no moon and cloud cover, and the blackout curtains completely mute any glow from the surrounding city that might try to find its way inside. He can still see you though, once his eyes adjust to the dark, and it's very hard for him to control his smile as for a moment he just stands still and stares. 

If he's honest with himself, this is more than he ever could have wanted. And it's moments like this that allow him to acknowledge that. You look so peaceful in your sleep, with your hair loose and one arm curled up against your shoulder. More than that, you look older. A lot of the time, Hanta genuinely thinks that his vision of you is often skewed by the image of his best friend from middle school, and as a result he sometimes fails to see the mature young woman you've grown into. The mature and very very beautiful young woman. 

You shift a little as if you feel his eyes on you, turning you face just slightly as your eyelashes flutter against the curve of your cheek. Hanta watches the movement as he slips his way deeper into the room, now heading to the en suite bathroom. He almost feels bad when he flicks the light switch on, sending a beam of gold across the room and right over your face for a brief moment before he steps inside and shuts the door as quickly as he can. 

His shower is lightening fast as his eyes droop at the corners. The fatigue of the day is hitting him, finally, and he does his best to be as quick as possible as he just rinses the dirt of the evening away and then climbs into the pair of sweatpants you must have put on the counter in anticipation of just this happening. 

Hanta smiles a little at the thought as he brushes his teeth. He's always picked up on the little details of his relationship with you, and yet they still never fail to fill him with a special kind of warmth. It has him even more eager to finish up his nightly routine and head off to bed, looking forward greatly to the moment he gets to haul you on top of his chest and snuggle the life out of you. 

He doesn't expect you to be awake when he finally exits the bathroom. He's preoccupied with pushing the damp strands of his dark hair out of his face, and so doesn't notice the glitter of your eyes as he flicks off the bathroom light and crosses the room to your shared bed. 

He feels it though, when you reach for him and grab his hand, tugging him down onto the bed with surprising strength. Hanta let's of a muffle oof! as he hits the mattress and then shifts, twisting his body so he can settle face to face with you as best as he can. 

"Well, hello," he says, just a little cheeky. You give him sleepy smile in response, one he's only just able to see through the darkness of the room, and tighten your grip on his fingers a little. 

"D'you just get home?" you ask, voice thick with sleep. Hanta makes an "uh huh" noise as he snuggles closer to you, wriggling his way under the covers as he sneaks an arm around your back. 

"How was it?" you mumble, pressing your nose into his collarbone. 

"The usual. Denki got hammered, Bakugou cussed out Mineta… nothing social," Hanta tells you, shrugging with one shoulder. You smile a little into his skin and nod once. 

"Sounds nice.:

"It was," Hanta agrees, smiling a little. "Oh, and Kiri sent more pictures of his baby so we went through those. I swear that kid looks just like him." 

"You'll have to show me in the morning," you tell him. "I always knew Kiri was gonna have a cute kid." 

"Oh, you did?" Hanta remarks, half teasing. You nod in response and adjust the angle of your head a little so you nose and mouth are pressed into the crook of his neck. 

"I did." 

"How so?" 

"Cuz Kirishima is adorable," you say, matter of factly. "So any kid of his is gonna be the sweetest thing to ever bless this earth." 

Hanta actually agrees with you. But he still pouts for a second and pulls you a little closer, his hand sliding from your middle to your lower back. 

"You think he's adorable?" 

"Who doesn't," you mumble back. And Hanta can't really find a counter argument to that. 

"Point taken. Our kid would be cuter though." 

"You think?" 

"Oh, absolutely," Hanta says, one hundred percent certain. "No offence to Kirishima's baby but if we had a kid, it would be the literal best thing to ever exist."

"I think you're biased," you tell him pointedly, but Hanta had heard the smile in your voice. "Parents always think that their own child is the best."

"No but think about it," Hanta says. He shuffles away a little to look properly at your face, a glint in his eyes. "Just imagine it. Not only would it be the best looking baby ever, but it would be so smart too! Provided it got your brains." 

You chuckle a little and Hanta feels his heart leap as he watches the corners of your eyes crinkle up a little. "It seems like you've given this a lot of though," you remark. "Does the topic of our hypothetical child grace your thoughts often, Hanta?"

Hanta blushes. He can't help it - you've caught him fair and square. He also can't help the smile that spreads over his face as he looks down at you, eyes roving over each contour of your features before locking with your own. 

"Maybe it does," he admits, shrugging one shoulder again. "I can't really help it." 

"That's cute." 

"What's cute?" 

"Your infatuation with our relationship," you tell him, your voice soft and sweet. Hanta makes a face. 

"I'm not infatuated with out relationship." 

"I think you are." 

"I'm infatuated with you," Hanta says. "Only you." 

You lean up your press a soft kiss to his jaw in response. Hanta's eyes flicker closed at the feeling and his grip on your waist tightens briefly. You react by shuffling yourself a little closer and suddenly you're practically on top of him, with your arms sliding up around his neck and your thighs rubbing up against his. 

It takes Hanta an eternity to register the fact that your legs are bare. And when he finally does it makes his cheeks colour a little pink. 

"You…" he begins as his hand sneaks downwards, from laying flay against your lower back to the curve of your hip and then up and over to the meat of your thigh. His eyes widen as he feels his way across your body and discovers you're wearing only panties on your bottom half. 

"Hanta…" you mumble in reply before leaning up to kiss his jaw again. And it's then, as your lips ghost across the edge of his jawline an he feels the soft drag of your fingertips sneaking up into his dark hair, that Hanta gets his first inkling of where tonight may be headed. 

Suddenly, he's no longer tired.

It starts out soft, as always. Soft touches, soft whispers. Hanta's hands brushing up against you, feeling your skin and the way your muscles move beneath it. It’s inquisitive, as if it’s happening for the first time all over again; an exploration , one might call it. Really, it’s Hanta refamiliarising himself with you, and reassuring you. Makings sure you understand. 

He doesn’t really need to; he knows you like the back of his hand after being with you for so long. He knows all your responses and all your reactions, and he knows how to communicate properly. But he likes to do it anyway, every time. It’s another way of showing his love for you, he supposes, something that he doesn’t ever think he does enough of. 

It’s also, he supposes, somewhat of a mental preparation for himself. Because he knows from experience that as soon as you get your hands on him, truly on him , his mind is going to go flying completely out the window. 

You’re the one to make the first move tonight, as you reach for the back of his head and pull him down to meet your lips in a soft kiss. It starts out slow, like you’re just tasting him, and as you lips caress his in a touch that feels feather-light, Hanta feels just a little bit like he’s drowning. In a good way. 

Your hand stays on the back of his head, your fingers sneaking their way into his thick, dark hair. He can feel the way you entwine your fingers in the strands, which presumably squeezes some moisture from it as a drop of water rolls done the back of his neck. He can ignore it easily though as he focusses on you and the way you’re kissing and touching him. Your body is moving now, shifting as you bring yourself closer and then you really are on top of him, thighs on either side of his hip bones as you push him gently down into the mattress. 

Hanta sighs softly when you pull away from the kiss. For a moment he stays as he is, head flopped back against the pillow with his eyes closed and his heart pounding away in his chest. But then he feels your hand shift, come up to his face. You fingers drift across his forehead, pushing away one long strand of black hair to tuck it back by his ear. That’s when he opens his eyes and meets your gaze in the darkened room. And what he sees only makes him grin. 

You’re gorgeous, so damn gorgeous. You have been since he’d first met you but now as he stares up at you, seeing the way your hair frames your face and your eyes are still half-lidded from sleep, it stokes the fire that’s always burning in his heart just for you. For a very brief moment, he’s taken back to the first time he’d ever kissed you, back in middle school when you’d both played truth or dare at a birthday party, and you’d both been unceremoniously shoved into a closet for a round of Seven Minutes In Heaven when it came time for his turn, and how he’d sat across from you in the dark, scared out of his mind, until you’d kissed him yourself. 

It’s totally different from the kisses you share now. That had been a simple peck between two friends, done to appease the masses of middle schoolers at a birthday party. What you have now is mature, it’s sensual, it’s heavy.  It makes his toes curl and his heart pound, and has the muscles in his lower abdomen fluttering. But it’s you still, always you. 

He finds that there’s something very beautiful about that. 

“Hanta,” you whisper down to him in a soft, sweet voice. “Hanta, touch me.” 

And he does, gladly. 

His hands go to your thighs, your soft, bare thighs which line his hips. He slips his fingers up them, feeling your skin, mapping out the shape of each one. He follows them upwards, reaches your hips. Then he grips you and pulls your body a little, shifting you on top of him so you’re lined up right where he needs you. 

You moan a little at the feeling and the sound almost makes Hanta’s eyes roll back. He forces himself to hold out though, determined to drag things out for your sake. It’s been a while since either of you did anything more than a five minute fuck in the shower and if Hanta is honest with himself, he’s desperate for the intimacy that you provide. He needs you, yes, but he also needs everything that you represent. And he’s determined to make this good. 

You lean down when he drags you over his crotch for a second time, your lips going back to his jaw. Hanta’s eyes slip closed as you kiss along his skin, sucking harder once you’ve made your way a little further down his neck. He lets go of your hips and allows his hands to continue on their journey up your body, going first to your waist then to your back and then to your shoulders. His thumbs rub up against where he can feel your collarbones beneath your skin, and then he kisses you again, on the mouth, slow and sensual in a way that all but screams “I'm going to make you feel good.”

You moan against his lips and then whimper when his tongue slips out. It meets yours and the kiss is deepened; enough so that Hanta can’t really help the way his hips roll upward to grind into you once again. You reciprocate immediately and then Hanta lets out a whine of his own as he feels one of your hands sliding from his shoulder to his chest and then further down his abdomen. 

“Fuck, baby-” he whispers out into a silence, only met with a soft hum of approval from you. “Baby, you’re so-!” 

“I'm here,” you breathe out to him, right against his lips. Your other hand goes to grab at his own, where it’s still settled on your shoulder. And then you move it yourself, pulling it away from your collarbone to press his palm up against the soft bulge of your breast. “Keep touching me while I touch you, my love.” 

The sound of your voice is all that's needed for Hanta to melt completely, and the actual words you're saying are just a bonus. He’s totally desperate by now, completely and totally lost in you, and so he does as you ask and massages slowly at the soft flesh of your breast. You hum in approval as your hand continues to slide down his body, and then a soft groan slips from between your lips as he pinches at your nipple through the t-shirt you’re wearing, rolling it slowly between his thumb and forefinger. 

“I love you,’ he whispers up to you and catches the smile you flash down to him in return. 

“I adore you,” you whisper down to him in reply and then lean forward to kiss his lips again. At the same time your hand, still sliding lower, finally finds what you're looking for. Hanta's body jolts a little as your fingers rub up and over the bulge in his sweats, and then he lets out an audible whimper. 

"Holy-" 

You smile against him and then pull away properly to sit back a little further so you all but tower over him. Hanta feels his heart rate begin to speed up as he gazes up at you with adoring eyes. His hand is still on your beast, and he makes a special effort to pinch at your nipper again to get your attention. You respond by increasing the pressure on his dick by just a little before backing off again, and smirking like a fucking deviant when Hanta huffs out a complaint. 

"We're equal," you whisper softly to him, rolling your hips forward a little as you do so. "Tease m and I'll tease you back." 

Despite his desperation, Hanta manages to find it in himself to quirk his eyebrow at you. "Tease you?" he says, a smirk of his own tugging at his mouth. "Baby, you haven't seen shit yet." 

You tilt your head a little to the side, your eyes sparkling, and Hanta suddenly gets the feeling this is exactly exactly you want from him. Not that he minds; he's very very happy to give whatever you desire. 

"Oh?" You ask him, blinking in the most innocent way you can. Hanta feels something crack within him. 

"What if…" he asks you slowly, as his hand leaves your chest and beginning to trail down your body. "What if… I do this ?" 

It's easy to get to that spot between your legs with how you're straddling him. And Hanta can't deny how the widening of your eyes in soft surprise when he trails his fingers over your clothed core sends a spark of dark, hot want right through his gut. 

You're only wearing panties. Very thin ones that do absolutely nothing to conceal how hot you are between your legs. Or how wet . 

Hanta feels himself suck in a shaky breath when he first feels it, how there's actually a damp spot darkening the fabric of your underwear. The tip of his finger brushes over it once in his initial exploration, and then returns almost immediately, and he presses against you with a little more pressure. It has you jumping a little at the touch, and your eyes roll back briefly as a shock of pleasure rushing through you. Hanta can't help but smile. 

"See," he tells you as he continues to stroke through your panties. "This is teasing, sweet girl." 

You hum a little in response, your face flushing slightly. But when you force your eyes open and look down at him once again, you gaze is only slightly clouded. 

"I suppose I've gotta return the favour, huh?" 

You grip on his crotch tightens just a bit once again and Hanta just about chokes. "Yeah, that'd be nice," he manages to hiss through his teeth, his breath jumping in his chest as pleasure spikes through his abdomen briefly. 

You let out a soft snort and adjust the shoulder of your t-shirt a little before you settle into a rhythm. Your hand is so warm against him, heat that seeps through his thick material of his sweatpants and right down to his cock. He was already achingly hard before this, and you're only making everything so much more intense . So much so that he almost forgets that he's supposed to be touching you. 

Almost.

His fingers press up against you when his mind returns to the task at hand, enough to get you to falter in your own movements. And then he takes complete advantage of your limp form and flips you right over, so your back is pressed to the mattress and he's now supporting himself on his forearms above you. 

You don't seem surprised by the switch. If anything it's like you were expecting it when you reach for him, hand curling around the back of his head so you can pull him down to kiss him again. At the same time you grab at his wrist and all but shove his hand between your legs. 

Hanta takes that as his cue and slips his hand into the confines of your panties. His fingertips trail over the familiar feeling of your body until they find what he's looking for. And he moans into your mouth when they do, his brain buffering for a good feel seconds at the feeling of how fucking wet you are. 

You whine under him as his fingertips tease along your entrance, gathering up your slick and massaging it into the soft skin of your labia. Your hips jump a little and you inhale sharply. And then you moan properly when he bypasses everything else to dip one long finger right inside your core. 

"H-Hanta, ah fuck!" 

Hanta finds himself smiling at the breathiness of your voice, almost a little giddy. More blood rushes to his cock as he stares down at you, watching the way your face twists up and your mouth forms the shape of an 'o' as he curls his finger just a little inside you. Getting you off has always gotten him off, right from the start of your sexual relationship, and even now he can just about feel the nerves in his crotch working overtime, as his aching dick is straining at the material of his sweats. 

You let out a choked noise when he slides his finger up to rub tight circles over your clit. Your slick has his fingers slipping against you, absolutely soaked, and the feeling spurs him on. He needs you, he fucking needs you . But first, he needs you to come. 

“I’m here, gorgeous,” he whispers down to you as he leans forward to put his mouth by your ear. He feels you shiver under him as his breath ghosts across the skin of your neck, and then a ripple passes up your body as his pace on your clit quickens. Your thighs threaten to clamp together but Hanta sets his hips between them, preventing them from closing. And then he leans down to mouth at your neck and shoulder, all but smothering you in his love. 

You whine and whimper, your voice growing higher, and Hanta recognises the way the muscles in your abdomen clamp up. Your hand comes up, freeing itself to slide up into his hair, and Hanta can’t help but let out a moan of his own when you wind your fingers into it and tug . 

“Oh god ,” you choke out. Your thighs start to shake, and your hips buck up as your other hand scratches along the muscles of his back. 

Hanta makes sure to kiss you as you come, sealing his lips to yours and invading your mouth with his tongue. You moan into him, your entire body rippling with pleasure as he feels your pussy pulse against his hand. And when he pulls back, once you’ve rolled off your high, he grins. 

“Good?” 

“Good,” you mumbled back. Your hand stays where it is in his hair. “More.” 

Hanta doesn’t even need to ask. He can see the desire in your eyes and after years of getting to know you and your body, he understands what you need and when. And so he wastes not a single second in ripping his sweatpants and boxers down, kicking them away as gracefully as possible so he can settle himself back between your thighs. 

You raise one leg immediately, and hook it up over his shoulder. And then Hanta feels it properly; the sticky glide of your soaking cunt across his cock. He chokes and then moans, his head dropping into the crook of your head as he balances himself on his forearms. You tilt your head back in response and let him kiss your skin as he gives a few experimental rocks forward, grinding himself up against you. You’re so wet, the skin of his cock is soaked already. And he can hear it in the way you’re whimpering with each grind; you need him just as much as he needs you. 

He doesn’t wait much longer; he can't . He just reaches down to take himself in his hand, situating himself. And then, with a single, practiced thrust of his hips, he slips into you. 

Your back arches upwards at the feeling, and the moan you let out is so fucking sweet it almost makes Hanta. You’re so familiar around him, your pussy warm and welcoming, and still so fucking tight. Hanta shudders at the feeling, his breaths becoming uneven as he struggles to ground himself for a moment. 

But then he feels the tug of your fingers in his hair. And he feels the way you’re shaking under him, your breaths coming out as shaky little whimpers as you pull his head even further against your neck. 

He kisses your skin. Once, twice, three times; as a reminder, and a comforter. To tell you he loves you. And then he rolls his hips. 

Neither of you last much longer after that. And neither of you mind. The exhaustion is catching up and Hanta’s thrusts are sloppy right from the start. Your moans are lazy in his ear, as you let the pleasure take hold of you completely, and when Hanta raises his head briefly to kiss you on the lips, it’s messy and uncoordinated. Hanta doesn’t even care though, as with each roll of his hips, more and more pleasures spikes up his spine. You’re pulsing around him, sucking him in over and over, and he can feel his high building already. In anticipation, he reaches down to sloppy rub his thumb over your clit. You clamp down on him immediately, your walls tightening around his cock to the point that he’s almost choking. And then, only a few strokes later, you come undone. 

The moans you let out, right in his ear, coupled with the pulsing of your cunt around his cock is all Hanta needs to come himself. And so he lets go with a groan, collapsing forward on top of you as he does so. 

The pair of you lay there for a long while after, basking in the feeling of each other. Hanta’s breathing slows after a while, and he finds himself nuzzling into your neck. Your one hand is still in his hair, with you leg having slipped down to rest over his hips, and he can feel the other tracing up and down his sweaty back as you too come down from your orgasm. Your fingernails scratch lightly against his skin, mapping out the contours of his muscles. And then up, into his hair, where you play idly with a few of the longer strands that curl around the base of his neck. 

For a while, there’s silence, broken only by the sound of both of your soft breathing. Then you turn your head a little, your lips ghosting over his temple, and mumble, “I love you,” into his hair. 

Warmth blossoms deep in Hanta’s chest. He raises his head, balances himself on one forearm so he can look down at you properly. For a moment he studies your face, your features, tracing each one with his eyes. Then he leans down to leave a long, gentle kiss on your still slightly sweaty forehead. 

“I love you too.”

#sero hanta x reader #hanta sero x reader #sero x reader #hanta sero #sero hanta #sero fanfic #boku no hero academia x reader #bnha fanfic #mha fanfic #my hero academia #sunshine #💙 blue's fics

[uchiwife]

Pairing : ItaSaku.🌸🍡 [ Modern AU.]

Characters: Haruno Sakura, Uchiha Itachi.

Category: fluff. Attempt at humor.

WARNING(S): None

Word count : 595

a/n : English is not my mother tongue, so please excuse me for any mistakes I might commit in it. ꒱࿐♡ ˚.*ೃ

—

[One kiss is all it takes fallin’ in love with me. Possibilities, I look like all you need. Let me take the night, I love real easy and I know that you’ll still wanna see me. On the Sunday morning, music real loud. Let me love you while the moon is still out.♡]

≿━━━━༺❀༻━━━━≾

“I think we should stop.”

“I think you're hideous.”

She frowned.

“I'm serious.”

“Are you? I thought we were playing "who can say the most absurd thing?" ”

“Hmph. You have no idea how much harassment I get just by pretending to be your girlfriend. It's exhausting, you know? These crazy girls feel like I stole you. Like you're the last Twix I took out of the vending machine.”

“You should ignore them. The agreement clearly stated that I would make sure you were in no real danger. They'll get over it.”

“Itachi, you don't understand! You're not the one who has to put up with the murderous looks. Really, at first I agreed because I could see that these girls had absolutely no respect for your personal space and you were being groped without consent. And you were too polite to even get angry. I know it's not in your temperament to yell either, but still.”

“Is it that hard for you, Sakura?”

“Yes.”

“All right, we'll stop then.”

She was surprised at first, which is ridiculous since she was the one who asked to stop, then she felt a twinge in her heart that she couldn't explain, but she preferred not to be distracted by this feeling.

“Oh. Thanks, Itachi. You don't know what—”

“I'm not finished. We stop pretending. Be my girlfriend for real.”

“WHAT? But how will that help me? It'll be even worse if I kiss you openly in public.”

Itachi smirked.

“Am I to understand that you want to kiss me in public, Sakura?”

The young woman stammered, her face red with embarrassment.

“NO! I mean...maybe. Yes, well no. Ugh I don't know okay!” Sakura glared at him. “And wipe that smug look off your face!”

“How eloquent you are, Miss Student Council President.”

With a last glare, the pinkette jumped on the dark-haired man, the latter very amused by the young girl's outburst. They ended up on the grassy ground of the courtyard, Sakura astride Itachi whose hands came to rest on her hips.“

“I hate you.”

“Yes, I could see that when you were literally undressing me with your eyes in P.E.”

“I didn't do that!”

“You did.”

She huffed.

“If you think I didn't notice you checking me out too!”

He snorted.

“I never hid my interest in you, Sakura. You were just too busy pining after Neji to notice that we could be good together.”

Sakura blushed furiously.

“I never chased after Neji! I just thought he was pretty with his long hair is all.”

“Of course.”

“Hey, it's the truth!”

“Hn. I'm sure you were just dreaming of asking him about his hair care routine.”

“Shut up! That was before!”

“Before what?”

She looked away, mumbling shyly.

“Beforeyou.”

“Sorry, what was that?”

She glared at him.

“I SAID BEFORE YOU.”

Itachi grinned.

“I'm flattered.”

She scoffed

“You should.”

“I am. But mostly I'm glad you dropped your fantasies about the Hyuuga.”

Sakura raised her hand to slap him on the shoulder but was intercepted by Itachi's grip as he grabbed her hands to pull her forward and press his lips to hers.

Surprised, Sakura took a second or two to react before relaxing and kissing back his sinful lips. A small moan escaped her as Itachi bit her bottom lip, causing her hips to grind against his.

It was Itachi's turn to grunt. His grip on her hips tightening as his tongue invaded Sakura's mouth, making it official that their relationship had begun and the one they claimed to have ended.

#SoundCloud #itasaku #uchiha itachi x haruno sakura #itachi x sakura #itachi uchiha #sakura haruno #naruto fandom #do not remove credit #naruto modern au #blur

[choke-me-joey]

Ch1/Ch2/Ch3

Summary: As Joe's long-term girlfriend, you reflect on your relationship over the last 4 years.

Content warning: 18+ so minors are not welcome, real person fiction (don't like, don't read, don't bitch), smut, fluff, angst, probably inaccurate timelines and processes but does anyone really care?, alcohol use, smoking...if I've missed anything please let me know!!

Late September 2018

London

A few days after your first date with Joe, Zoe and you are sitting on your sofa watching a movie, when your phone alerts you to a new message. You reach for it, pausing as you notice Zoe smirking at you.

"Yes?" You ask, raising an eyebrow at her.

"Is that Joe?"

"It might be," you grab your phone and move so she's unable to read it over your shoulder. "It might not be, why the sudden interest?"

"Just curious, that's all." She shrugs, turning back to the tv with that stupid smirk on her face. You poke her with your blanket covered foot.

"Tell meeeeee!" You put on the whiniest voice possible whilst still poking her. She slaps your foot away, laughing.

"God, you're annoying. How has a loser like you managed to score with a super hot actor?" Zoe teases you, shooting you a wink so you know she's just playing around. "Did you check out his anything he's been in yet?"

You sigh.

"Not yet, no, but I presume as the super annoying and protective best friend you have Googled him within an inch of his life?"

"Duh." She reaches for her laptop on the coffee table and pauses the movie, typing something frantically into her search engine, before turning the screen towards you. "Watch and learn about your new boyfriend."

"He's not my boyfriend," you mumble, taking the laptop from her. A video of all of Joe's scenes in Howard's End begins to play, and when Joe comes onto the screen you can't help the small smile that breaks out across your face. "He's really good..." you mumble and Zoe nods.

"Just keep watching."

It cuts to scene where Joe, or Leonard, is closing the window shutters whilst giving the woman in the scene the most bedroomy eyes. You blush. And also feel a twinge of jealousy, but you quickly push that back. It's just acting for God's sake.

"Ugh, you're disgustingly cute right now. Getting all blushy over Joe's romance scenes. Wishing it was you."

"Shut up," you grin, rolling your eyes and covering your face. She continues to laugh and you flip her off before opening the message from earlier.

'Hey , so I have next Saturday and Sunday completely free if you wanted to do something? I had a really good time the other night x'

'Me too :) next weekend sounds good, what were you thinking?' X

'Well, there's this Dior exhibit on at the V&A if you fancy it? X'

You can't help the stupid smile on your face. Zoe rolls her eyes and resumes the movie, poking you with her foot to pay attention.

'Sounds great! Do you fancy getting lunch too? My treat this time remember x'

'You won't let me pay will you? X'

'Nope x'

'Fine, you win. So let's say Saturday at 11? We can meet outside the V&A and go from there? X'

'It's a date x'

"Oi, if you're more focused on your actor man than the movie I'm gonna turn it off," Zoe smirks from the other end of the sofa. "I can't handle you smiling like that, it's gross."

"Fuck off," you smile back, throwing a pillow at her.

***

A week later, you're stood outside the V&A in the late September sunshine, absorbed in a particularly intense part of a murder podcast as you wait for Joe. Granted, you got there almost half an hour early, but only because you couldn't stand sitting in the flat for much longer, watching the clock tick.

You were definitely nervous.

"And there was me thinking I'd get here early and impress you," a voice says from behind you, making you jump and whirl around, almost knocking an amused Joe over. "Jesus, sorry! I didn't mean to scare you." He laughs, grabbing you so you don't fall backwards.

"You twat," you gasp, removing your headphones and laughing as you clutch your chest. "You're lucky I didn't roundhouse you or something, Jesus!" You hug him and he squeezes you back.

"To be honest, I would have loved to have seen that," he smirks, glancing you up and down. "I've got a height advantage."

"You'd be surprised how high I can get my legs when I want to," you laugh, completely missing the innuendo. Joe bursts out laughing and you suddenly want the ground to swallow you. "Noooo!" You wail, your cheeks flushing bright red. "That's not what I meant!"

"Sure, if you say so," he teases as you queue up to get inside.

"Oh my god, shut up." You cover your face, laughing. The two of you must have looked insane, uncontrollably laughing like kids, but neither of you cared. You literally couldn't remember the last time you felt this...happy.

As you walked around the exhibit, one girl recognises Joe and he poses for photos with her and hugs her. You were a bit suprised about how much she seemed to adore him. He hadn't really mentioned this would happen, he had said himself he rarely got recognised.

One of the girl's friends starts looking you up and down and suddenly you feel extremely uncomfortable. You glance nervously at Joe, who is occupied with taking a few more photos.

You walk off, awkwardly trying not to look like you're hanging around as you can still feel the girl's eyes on you.

"It was so nice to meet you!" You hear Joe say, flashing his winning smile and practically turning the girls to jelly. "I really should get going now, enjoy the rest of your day guys!" He bids them goodbye and heads over to join you once again. You can see the girl and her friend looking at you from across the lobby. "Shit, I am so sorry about that."

"It's fine, I mean...it's to be expected right? You're a famous actor after all," you wink at him and he rolls his eyes.

"You're making me sound like some jumped up twat," he laughs, running a hand through his hair. "You handled it really well though."

You shrug, waving it off.

The rest of your trip is uninterrupted thankfully.

You never ran out of things to talk about, discovering that you were both pretty in to fashion, him more along the lines of wearing it, you more along the lines of photographing it. By the time you had walked around the entirety of the exhibit and the rest of the V&A, you were both starving, so you pulled up directions to a pizza place you had read about nearby, and you headed over.

The restaurant was a short walk away, and the sun was still shining as you emerged outside, so you took a slow walk, still chatting away. Joe was incredibly funny; his dry and sometimes downright terrible sense of humour had you constantly cracking up, and apparently it was the same for him with you. We talked about his career, he mentioned he had some release dates coming up soon and premieres to attend, and you embarrassed the shit out of him by saying you'd be the first in line to watch.

You remained extremely close as you walked outside, although Joe had been extremely apologetic about not holding your hand. You completely understood; the fan in the museum had given you death glares for just being within five feet of him, god knows how they'd react to hand holding. You didn't mind, you understood and, in all honesty, you wanted to keep your limbs attached to your body for today, so you weren't going to to risk anything.

"So I hope you're okay with pizza, I figured it was a pretty safe bet," you said, as we approach the restaurant. Joe looks at you, almost looking shocked.

"You're kidding right? Who doesn't like pizza?!"

"Good point," you giggle as he holds the door open for you. "Wow, what a gentleman."

"I know, I'm too good to be true." He jokes, and you laugh, still playing it cool, but mentally you are agreeing with him in embarrassingly enthusiastic screams. You end up ordering a half and half pizza to split. "As much as I am having a really good time today, part of me is completely disgusted with you for only having cheese on your pizza."

"Hey, leave me alone, I'm boring when it comes to pizza, although I won't turn down a slice of pepperoni if the situation occurs." You grin, reach over and taking a piece of said pepperoni from his slice.

"Wow, look out, she's absolutely fucking mental," Joe smirks, playfully slapping your hand away. You succeed in stealing and place the pepperoni in your mouth, chewing it slowly. "You thief."

"Hey, I might be a thief, but at least I didn't order pineapple on my pizza, right?"

"If you did, I would be making up an excuse to leave." Joe winks, actually fucking winks at you, and you can't help but laugh.

"Well, at least I know how to make you disappear." You shoot back, and he smiles, his expression softening.

"I hope you don't use that to your advantage any time soon," he says quietly, his cheeks flushing as he reaches across the table and subtly takes a hold of your hand. "I really like you."

Your turn to blush now.

"I really like you too," you admit. You squeeze his hand gently and your heart is racing a million miles an hour. "Don't worry, I won't scare you off with weird pizza combos just yet."

"Not weird, just plain wrong."

You finish the rest of your meal at a comfortable pace, still never shutting up. When the waiter comes along, you ask for the bill and Joe takes out his wallet. Ypu raise an eyebrow at him. "What do you think you're doing?"

"Not being a complete and utter prick and offering to split the bill?"

"Joe, I said it was on me, it's fine, I promise. And besides, you accepted this whole not paying thing via text, see?" You wave your phone at him, displaying the text. Joe rolls his eyes and puts his wallet away.

"Wow, I can't believe you used my own text against me." He says, leaning back in his chair and crossing his arms across his chest, but he's smiling.

By the time you leave the restaurant, it's around 7 and it's beginning to get dark. You walk slowly towards the tube station, neither of you wanting the day to end.

"So, um, do you want to get dessert or something?" Joe asks as we reach the entrance to the station. "I could do dessert."

"Dessert sounds good." You laugh. "My wonderful flat mate has gone home for the weekend, so you're welcome to come back to mine. I have a good supply of various ice cream flavours if you wanted to hang out for a bit longer?" Were you being too forward? Is he going to freak out? As soon as the words left your mouth, your brain started chugging out all these scenarios of what could happen next. Fuck, nice one, Y/N, you've really fucked this up, you absolute fucking-

"You may have ice cream but do you have pistachio flavour?" Joe smirks, raising an eyebrow at me. You roll your eyes as if the answer was obvious.

"Please, what kind of person do you take me for? Of course I have pistachio."

"Then I'm there."

***

"I like your place," Joe says as he's stood in your kitchen as you pull out bowls and spoons for ice cream, as well as glasses for wine. He inspects your collection of vintage cameras on your shelf. "It's very you."

"Very me? Are you calling me a camera nerd?"

"Biggest camera nerd I've ever met."

"Aw, that's the most romantic thing anyone has ever said to me," you grin, clutching your chest and swooning sarcastically. "But don't over do it, I might vomit."

"Don't worry, all the cliché romance shit isn't my specialty, you're safe." Joe smirks, and you pretend to wipe your forehead in relief, diving into the freezer and pulling out the container of pistachio ice cream for him, and mint chocolate chip for you. You each dish up your ice cream and you smother your bowl in chocolate sauce. "Chocolate sauce, Y/N? We've only just met." He wiggles his eyebrows at you in a suggestive manner. You roll your eyes, laughing.

"Strictly for eating with ice cream only," you say. "As if I would waste perfectly good chocolate sauce by smearing it all on you." You follow up your teasing with a wink, so he knows you're joking. "And besides, I would come up with a much more creative way to participate in food play."

"Oh? Keep talking," Joe grins, sitting next to you on the sofa. You shove him gently.

"Shh, you."

You eat your ice cream and drink your wine, and you pop on a playlist that softly plays throughout the flat.

"80s music?" Joe grins at you over the rim of his glass as 'Everybody Wants To Rule The World' plays. You shrug unapologetically.

"Say what you want but they made some absolute bangers back then."

"Oh no I totally agree." Joe nods and he grins as 'Head Over Heels' starts up. "Okay okay, I do love this song."

He puts down his bowl and stands up, offering you his hand. You frown in slight confusion, but you're still smiling. "Come on, I very rarely do this sober." Joe laughs and you give in, placing your bowl down next to his and allowing him to pull you up to standing.

Joe pulls you to his chest, and begins slow dancing with you. You grin into his chest, inhaling his scent of cologne, mint and faint cigarettes. Very Joe.

"You know, I think this counts as cliché romance shit," you look up at him, smirking.

"Fuck, I think it does." Joe feigns disappointment, shaking his head.

"It's alright, I won't tell anyone."

"Y/N-" Joe starts and you look him, frowning in slight confusion. "Ah, fuck it." He says before pressing his lips to yours in a sweet, soft kiss. It takes you by surprise and you both stop swaying to the music. He quickly pulls away. "Was...was that okay?"

"Yeah, it just surprised me." You smile, wrapping your arms around his neck. "You can do it again if you want."

Joe laughs and kisses you again, this time it's for longer, the taste of pistachio lingering on your lips. He goes to pull away and you tug him back to you, and he lets out a soft hum of appreciation.

His tongue traces along your lips, and you gladly accept, letting you taste each other properly for the first time. He's a fucking good kisser, and it makes you weak in the knees and causes a stir in your belly which you hadn't felt for a long time. You slow down the kissing, and it fizzes out into soft little pecks.

"I meant what I said earlier you know," Joe says softly, resting his forehead against yours. "I really like you."

"I know and I meant it too. I don't just invite any guy up here for ice cream and wine. You're the first actually." You smile as Joe intertwines his fingers with yours.

"Yeah, I don't usually do this much either," Joe admits, referring to the slow dancing. "Fuck, Wes was right. That dickhead."

"Right about what?" You giggle. Joe groans.

"He said I wouldn't be able to not kiss you today. Couldn't help myself though."

He's obviously been talking about you to his best mate. The thought of that makes your tummy flip in the best way.

"I don't mind," you say, looking up at him. "In fact, I wouldn't mind if you did it again."

"Nah, me neither." He grins, before placing his lips on yours once more.

[vannahfanfics]

Stand Tall on the Summit

Word Count: 5590

Friendship, Hurt and Comfort, Fluff

Summary: Tadashi doesn't feel like he's a worthy member of the team, so he's training himself until he collapses. And Kei is not happy about it.

And here is my story for the TsukiYama Big Bang! Be sure to check out my partner’s lovely art, too! 

Beep, beep, beep, beep—

The alarm had been droning on for nearly a full minute now, but Tadashi just couldn’t bring himself to get out of bed. He just laid there in the softness of his pillows and blankets with his eyes closed, the shrill beeping of the alarm unable to pierce the hazy twilight of half-sleep in which he was drifting. Weariness coated his body from head to toe; he just seemed to ache so much less when suspended in the cloud-like softness of his bed that it was just so easy to convince himself to continue lying there. When his mother shouted at him from down the hall to get up, though, he finally resigned himself to the fact that he would not be able to skip school without repercussions. 

With a long groan, he snaked his arm out from underneath the bed—goosepimples immediately rising from his skin as it hit the cold bedroom air—and slapped his hand down on his alarm. He twinged as pain rocketed up his arm from his wrist. He recoiled, rolling onto his back while cradling his arm tenderly to his chest. His muscles pulsed with a dull pain, and once again, he considered just abandoning himself to a day of lazy recuperation instead of forcing himself through the arduous ordeal of getting up and around. 

Ugh… I can’t skip practice today, though. That was the motive for him to finally drag himself into a sitting position, despite the achy protest of his back muscles. As he rolled his shoulders, they spasmed too, making his head involuntarily twitch to one side with the strong contraction of one of them that was attached to his neck. He whined loudly. He was hurting in places he didn’t even realize had muscles! 

He didn’t know that committing to extra practice outside of Coach Ukai’s training would be so hard. 

Tadashi looked down at his hand with a small pout. He slowly curled his fingers open from where they were clenched in a fist. They were shaking, the muscles straining to fight against the pain signals shooting through his nerves. He slowly drew them closed again, and his muscles rejoiced with the lack of effort, though dull pain still persisted as a reminder to not try his luck again. Tadashi closed his eyes with a sigh and rubbed at one of the aching spots in his palm with his other thumb. 

Daichi is probably going to yell at me again today, he thought, his pout souring into a frown. 

Tadashi had been meeting up every night with one of the local community volleyball players that had come to practice with them. Tadashi had been inspired after seeing the jump float serve. Since the beginning, all of his teammates had shined so brightly. At first, he had been happy to see his teammates succeed. It was good sportsmanship to encourage your teammates and celebrate their accomplishments! But more and more so, Tadashi was beginning to feel… lackluster. He wasn’t even a shadow that could make his teammates’ efforts shine all the more. He was just… nonexistent, completely obliterated by the luminance of the others. 

He didn’t like feeling that way. He knew that not everyone could be on the court on a regular basis. But what would happen when Tadashi did get out there? What did he have to offer? That question had plagued him, eating away at him like acid pooling in the pit of his belly to slowly erode him from the inside out. When he had seen that jump float serve, though, he had finally felt it. 

This. This is what I can do!

It had been a lot easier said than done, of course. Convincing the older man to train him had been easy enough—he seemed inspired by Tadashi’s dedication and willingness to grow. But the actual training? It was arduous. Don’t get Tadashi wrong, it wasn’t because the guy was some kind of drill sergeant. He was still low-key more scared of Coach Ukai. No, it was just that it required precision that Tadashi had yet to master, and the act of trying to train that was working his body in ways he couldn’t even imagine. Tadashi had never thought himself physically unfit, considering his years of playing volleyball—but this was making him feel like a total newbie! 

“But I can’t give up,” he whispered quietly to himself. He opened his eyes again and then pulled his fingers back open. Despite the quivering, despite the pain, he kept them open. No pain, no gain, as they say!

The sooner he got through the day, the sooner he got to practice. And the sooner he got through practice, the sooner he could get through his training. With this in mind, he jumped out of bed and started ripping off his pajamas, a smile slowly worming its way onto his face… 

It wasn’t even third period and Tadashi was slumped over his desk, feeling like his soul had been sucked out of his body. His usually bright eyes were dull, nearly lifeless, as he gazed soullessly at the chalkboard at the front of the room. His eyes followed the characters that the teacher was scrawling across it, but he wasn’t processing it; the white lines of chalk just blurred into meaningless smudges, not reaching further into Tadashi’s mind. Because it was far away, on a volleyball court and not in the classroom. 

One would think that his body would be like putty with the way he’d draped himself across the desk, but that wasn’t the case. He felt keyed up; it was like all his muscles were contracting at once, tensing him up like coiled rope wound too tight. Even though his arms dangled at his sides and his legs were stretched out, it still felt like his muscles were behaving wrong. Every nerve in his body was ignited, making his desk rattle slightly with how much he was quivering. 

He sucked in a sharp breath as one of his left arm muscles suddenly spasmed. He didn’t want to draw attention to himself, but oh fuck did it hurt. He bit down so hard on his bottom lip that beads of blood sprung up beneath his teeth. It felt like the muscles were twisting into knots, and all he could do was cradle it tenderly to his chest and try and ride it out. However, the people around him took notice of the way he jerked in his desk, making it scoot a few inches across the floor, and the way his body was wracked with pained tremors. After the pain slowly subsided, they were looking at him with their eyebrows knitted in confusion. He bashfully buried his face in his arm, hiding away from the world in the safety of the sleeve of his uniform. 

Despite that, he still spirited himself back to the court. Whenever he couldn’t physically go through the motions, he replayed them over and over again in his head—the precise way that he had to guide his body to perform the serve, the amount of power behind the jump and the exact curve of his arm. And each time, his body reacted to the daydream in kind—twisting up one of his muscles somewhere in a desperate attempt to convince Tadashi to take a break. It was tempting; it really was. 

But then that cold, crushing feeling would return—that nauseating acidic gnaw of uselessness. He’d tear his body to shreds, rip his muscles from his bones until he couldn’t move anymore, if only to avoid that chilling apprehension making its home in the pit of his belly again. 

The day passed like that—Tadashi languishing in silence at his school desk. Though he’d hardly moved all day, when he finally pushed himself into a sitting position, it was like every muscle pulsed at once. They continued to throb with their own agonizing heartbeat while he slowly eased himself out of his desk. As he looked down at his schoolbag on the floor, he honestly debated just leaving it there for the day rather than put himself through the torment of bending down to get it. Just as he had about worked up the willpower to retrieve it, someone else beat him to the punch. 

Tadashi looked at Kei owlishly as the taller boy pulled the strap of the bag over his shoulder, laying Tadashi’s bag over his own. 

“Oh… Hey…” 

“You look like shit,” Kei said blasely. Tadashi felt his cheeks ignite with an indignant blush—but other than that, his body honestly didn’t have the energy to muster any more of an angry response. He just gazed at Kei’s stern, stone-hard eyes with his own weary ones. Honestly, he should have known that Kei would challenge him on his overexertion sooner or later. Based on the terse frown that was pulling at his friend’s lips, he certainly wasn’t pleased about the whole thing, either. 

“If you think you’re going to practice today, you’re sorely mistaken.” 

“I’m not skipping practice,” Tadashi muttered. He went to step around Kei, but his friend matched his movement, using his tall body to block him. Tadashi growled, but it was weak, just like the rest of him. “Come on, dude. Just let me go.” 

“No.” 

Tadashi raised an eyebrow. Kei was assertive, yes, but he’d never been this firm with him. But Kei was serious, his hard gaze burning into Tadashi. It lit a fire in him, but not a good one. Tadashi felt all the negative feelings that had been broiling within him bubble over, like the lava that had been brewing in a volcano finally building up the pressure to burst forth in an awful and fiery explosion. 

“Fine!” he snapped. His hand shot out to snatch the strap of his bookbag, and he yanked it forward, dragging it down the length of Kei’s arm until the bag flopped to the floor. The adrenaline surging through his veins seemed to numb the pain of his muscles spasming, at least temporarily, because he was able to sling it over his shoulder without much trouble. He used his other arm to push Kei in the chest; he hadn’t been expecting it, apparently, because though he was much bigger Tadashi was able to shove him back so hard he tripped over the desk and landed awkwardly in the seat. Tadashi stalked past him with a sniff, not looking back while he stormed out the room. 

He was fuming, but not with Kei. The anger at him morphed into something else almost immediately. Now Tadashi was just angry with himself and too ashamed to do anything but keep walking. Bitter tears stung his eyes, dripping down his flushed face and down into the sweat-dampened collar of his uniform shirt. It didn’t take long for his overburdened body to overwhelm the effects of his ire, for as soon as he turned the bend of the hallway, his knees were buckling and he was stumbling into the wall. 

Even just the thump of his bicep against the brick sent pain through his nerves, like fractals spreading across ice. Yet he couldn’t bring himself to pull back, instead sliding down the wall and grimacing at each explosion of pain that assaulted his already screaming nervous system. As soon as his rump hit the tiled floor, he just continued rolling forward down the wall. He ended up curled in a fetal position. It wasn’t really that bad; the cool floor felt real nice against his hot, inflamed, pulsing muscles. If he didn’t move a single inch, nothing hurt. He could just stay there. They’d find him Monday morning. 

“So. I imagine that going to practice is no longer on your agenda?” came Kei’s dry voice accompanied by his slow, level footsteps. Tadashi just continued to lay there, eyes closed and focusing on breathing; he chanced cracking an eye open when Kei’s footsteps stopped in front of him. He half-expected it to hurt, but it didn’t. 

Kei squatted in front of him, still stony-faced. But Tadashi could see the worry that had clouded over his dark irises. He’s worried about me, Tadashi thought, and then he slowly released a long, defeated sigh. 

“No… I think not…” he agreed through clenched teeth. There was no way he could even crawl to the gym on his hands and knees right now, let alone do anything productive. If I try anything more, I’m gonna destroy my body, he finally admitted to himself. That didn’t mean he liked it, though. 

He wasn’t going to practice, but he didn’t want to spend the weekend languishing on the hallway floor, either. Who knew how long it had been since it was swept or mopped? It took a few seconds of rapidly puffing breaths in and out of his cheeks to psych himself up, and then he swiftly pushed himself up on his hands before his body could complain about it. There was about a one-second grace period while his nerves processed what was happening, and then everything in his upper half screeched at once. He fell forward with a strangled gasp—right against Kei’s chest. 

“Tch,” the blond muttered while gently wrapping his arms around Tadashi’s body to keep him steady. “You really went and did a number on yourself, didn’t you? Now I’m going to hear it from the captain, too.” 

Tadashi was too busy reeling from the pain to process Kei’s statement. A cold sweat had instantly bloomed on his brow, and it smeared across the cotton of Kei’s uniform shirt as Tadashi slumped against him. After half a minute of sucking down deep breaths, he wheezed, “What?” 

“Can’t take care of you if I’m at practice, now can I?” Kei grunted. Tadashi could only muster up a weak groan in protest when Kei grabbed him under the armpits and hauled him up. Kei hooked an arm around his middle, allowing Tadashi to lean most of his weight against him. Tadashi’s confusion must have shown on his face because after glancing down at him, Kei snorted, rolled his eyes, and huffed, “Home. I’m taking you home.” 

“Okay, fine…” Tadashi consented wearily. Kei began to usher him along the hallway with slow, shuffling steps. He paused every few steps, allowing Tadashi to catch his breath while the pain settled back down to a tolerable level. “Just for a night, and then—” 

“And then nothing. Even if I have to tie you to a bedpost, you’re not stepping foot on a court until I decide you’re good and ready,” Kei growled, and when he looked down at him, his expression was steely again. It caused Tadashi to wince; he’d never seen Kei this mad, not at him. Maybe it was time to admit that he had overdone it… If only just to spare himself the discomfort of being on his bad side. 

“Fine, fine…” Tadashi laughed dryly. “I’ll behave. Please don’t tie me up…” 

The hurting was already bad enough. He didn’t know if he could stand it trussed up like a rodeo cow. And knowing Kei, he would do it simply to make a point. 

It took far longer than it ought’ve, but eventually, the two made it to Kei’s house. A short time later, Tadashi was lying on the floor of his friend’s bedroom. He wasn’t in the fetal position this time, but rather stretched out on a futon with a heating pad in-between the sheets. They had taped bags of ice to every major muscle they could think of. He looked like some budget version of the Michelin Man, but he didn’t give a rat’s ass because damn did it feel good. 

“Feel better?” Kei asked as he walked in. He had several bottles of water bundled in his arms—presumably to make Tadashi drink them and help hydrate his overworked body. Tadashi didn’t want to risk throwing off whatever equilibrium he had with his muscles and nerves right now, so instead of nodding or even speaking, he just gave him a very pleased hum. Kei chuckled; Tadashi probably had a borderline euphoric expression on his face right now, being cradled in the dichotomy of heat and cold and living the first pain-free moments he had in a while. Kei let out a small sigh while he eased himself down into a sitting position next to his friend. 

Tadashi knew that Kei wanted to talk. He could see it in the way he slowly set the water bottles down next to the futon, one by one, turning all the labels the same way. Kei had never been very good at the “talking” thing. He always ruminated too much over what he wanted to say, and he channeled the nervous energy through tics—fiddling with his fingers or, on more serious matters, being taken over by meticulousness. A quiet sigh breezed past Tadashi’s lips. He owed his friend for making him feel better, so the least he could do was save Kei the challenge of trying to start the conversation. 

“You wanna ask how I ended up this way, don’t you?” 

Kei glanced down at him. Relief flickered over his expression for a fraction of a second, followed by that same hardening of his features that had greeted Tadashi after class today. It made his belly swirl; he really didn’t like Kei looking at him like that. He was so used to being on the guy’s good side. But worse? He felt bad that he’d made Kei worry to the point of getting angry like this. 

Kei looked back down at the bottles again, then flicked away a bead of condensation that was inching its way down to the floorboard. 

“I don’t want to ask how. I want to ask why.”

Well. Tadashi supposed that made sense. Leave it to Kei to use linguistics to turn the discussion in his favor. Tadashi couldn’t help a little squirm of discomfort; it made the dull pain start up in the bellies of his muscles again, but thankfully lessened to a tolerable degree by the ice and heating pad. If he were going to tell anyone the truth, it would be Kei—but that didn’t mean it was any easier to admit. 

Kei allowed him to chew on the inside of his cheek for a few seconds. He was trying not to seem too judging, Tadashi could tell—avoiding staring down at him with those hard eyes, now fidgeting with the hem of his shirt. It brought a little smile to his lips. Kei wouldn’t reign back his harsh tendencies for just anyone. 

So Tadashi owed him the truth, at the very least. 

“I just… I feel inadequate, you know? As part of the team.” It felt nicer than Tadashi wanted to admit, finally getting it out in the open to somebody. He felt… lighter, as if the words themselves had been a great weight he had been bearing all this time. Releasing them even made it easier to breathe, his small sigh rolling more easily over his lips. And when Kei looked down at him, it was with surprise. 

“What do you mean?” 

Tadashi squirmed again, and the bags of ice hugging his body crinkled and sloshed with the melted water within. It really wasn’t that complicated of a feeling, yet so hard to explain at the same time. 

“I just… I mean, look at those two,” he huffed. Of course, those two needed no elaboration. “They’re stars! They have their awesome teamwork and all. And you—you’re a great blocker, Kei! Then our senpai are amazing, too. There’s just talent everywhere you look.” The next sentence caught in his throat. It felt like he’d swallowed a rock, and he was choking on it, his Adam’s apple bobbing repeatedly against it with his fruitless attempts to swallow. After half a minute of terse silence, he finally managed to croak, “And then there’s me.” 

“And then there’s… you?” Kei echoed. Was he kidding? Looking down at him with narrowed eyebrows pinched in confusion—there was no way he didn’t get it, right? Tadashi wanted to scream, but apparently, Kei was going to pry it out of him. 

“I suck, okay?” Tadashi finally snapped. Despite himself, he slammed his hand down against the futon. White-hot pain immediately shot up his nerves, into his shoulder and neck to make him do that weird head-cock spasm again. Through gritted teeth, he growled, “I’m nothing compared to you guys. I have nothing to contribute. I thought maybe if I trained hard then I would have something to offer.” 

Kei stared down at him, his expression stony and blank. It made Tadashi’s skin begin to crawl with anxiety. He would have preferred him to explode and begin aggressively gassing him up, or to sullenly provide him sympathy, or even to get up and start dancing the hula. But this? The absolute nothingness, no hint of what was going on in his head? It made Tadashi nervous. 

Then Kei got up to grab his cellphone off his desk. 

“Uh… What are you doing?” Tadashi spluttered. He’d known Kei for a long time and had come to accept his lack of social graces—but jumping on the phone after such a heavy conversation was a little jarring, even for Kei. Kei just plopped down into his computer chair, not looking at Tadashi but at his phone screen. His taped fingers flew across the screen—he hadn’t bothered to untape them even though he hadn’t gone to practice today, too busy helping Tadashi settle into his new life in the futon. 

“You’ll see,” his friend quipped vaguely. Though Tadashi was still laying flat on the floor, the overwhelming sense of vertigo was still immense. He reeled in the wake of whatever the hell it was that just happened. Of all the ways that Kei could have reacted to him pouring his heart out, whatever this was had never crossed the far reaches of Tadashi’s mind. 

At this point, Tadashi had no idea how to reasonably continue the conversation. It didn’t look like Kei had any interest to do so, anyway, for he was still engrossed in… whatever it was he was doing on his cellphone. So Tadashi just relaxed back into the futon, shutting his eyes with a quiet sigh. Despite the exhaustion lacing his bones, sleep was seemingly out of the question; a strange dissatisfaction was swirling in the pit of his belly, making him just nauseous enough for him to squirm in discomfort. 

Getting his feelings off his chest did make him feel a little bit better, but… it felt unfinished. They were just hanging in the air now, unresolved, like soap bubbles that were just short of acquiring enough tension to burst. Admitting his uncertainties aloud didn’t exactly make them disappear. And… His gaze slid to Kei, who was now staring intently at his phone screen with his fist pushed deep into his cheek. Tadashi knew that Kei wasn’t exactly the best person to go to for comfort, but he would have thought his best friend would have at least attempted. Even the shittiest, most awkwardly-phrased stab at sympathy would have been better than just completely dodging the issue like Kei apparently had. 

Tadashi had to know. Was Kei refusing to talk because he believed that Tadashi had nothing to offer, too? With tears of frustration and apprehension burning in the corners of his eyes, Tadashi cleared his throat before hoarsely asking, “Kei?” 

“What?” his best friend asked, his eyes flicking down to where Tadashi still lay covered in half-melted bags of ice on the floor. Tadashi could feel his skin burning against the cold as an embarrassed flush bloomed along the length of his body. 

“Does… does everyone else know it, too? That I’m—” 

“Stop talking,” Kei growled. Whatever intentions Tadashi had of getting it out of him immediately fled in the face of the obvious irritation etched into Kei’s hard expression. “You’ll find out in a second, okay?” 

“Wh-what?” Tadashi stammered. He was whiplashed into that strange sensation of vertigo as the conversation once again took a very strange turn. Before he could even begin to make sense of it all, there came the sound of rapidly-approaching footsteps in the hall. 

Kei hopped to his feet and snatched Shouyou by the back of his tee-shirt while he was still in the middle of leaping at Tadashi from the doorway. 

“Lemme go!” Shouyou protested as he dangled from Kei’s grip, flailing his limbs every which way. “First I’mma give him a hug, and then I’m gonna beat the snot outta ‘im!” 

“What?” Tadashi bleated. 

“You idiot!” Tobio appeared in the doorway. He took the opportunity provided by the redhead’s compromised position to kick him hard in the rump, making Shouyou yelp. “Didn’t you pay attention to the conversation? He’s hurt!” 

“That’s right. There will be minimal hugging, and certainly no ass-kicking,” Daichi chuckled, walking up behind the first-year with an amused smirk on his face. 

“What?” Tadashi asked again, since no one had been kind enough to explain what the hell was going on. 

“Whoa, look at him!” Yū cackled as he ducked under Daichi’s arm so he could scamper over to the futon and squat down next to Tadashi’s head. His eyes twinkled as he drank in all the bags of ice taped down to his form. “You look like a cheap knock-off of the big marshmallow tire dude!” 

“Come on, that’s not nice,” Asahi sighed from the doorway with a shake of his head. 

“Yeah!” Koushi chirped, holding up his finger like a scolding mother. “He’s in a lot of pain right now. Don’t make fun of him.” 

Tadashi looked the picture of a confused baby, eyes owlish and head bobbling on his neck when he looked at Kei to once more pitifully squeak, “What?” 

“I asked them to come here. Duh,” he said while pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose, as if it was obvious. When Tadashi just blinked stupidly, Kei snorted, rolled his eyes, and then elaborated, “So they could all tell you in person that you do bring something to the team. Dumbass.” 

“Totally!” Shouyou cried as he pulled his arms in through the sleeves of his shirt and wiggled out of it, dropping down into a crouch on the floor. Kei grimaced at the now-empty shirt and promptly flung it into the corner. Meanwhile, Shouyou scampered over to Tadashi to sit cross-legged at his side. “How could you even think that you don’t have anything to offer the team? That’s totally crazy!” 

Blushing, Tadashi wiggled down underneath the cover of the futon until his face was buried up to the bridge of his nose. It made him happy, the fact that everyone had totally abandoned practice to come cheer him up—but…

“Come on, guys… Let’s face it. I’m pretty mediocre compared to the rest of you…” he mumbled. A hot flush of shame pulsed through him, another bitter reminder of the truth of his feelings. “I’m not particularly skilled in anything. I don’t have this one amazing thing that the rest of you have. ” 

“Sure you do,” Daichi shrugged, and despite himself, Tadashi peered over the edge of the blanket at him. “Everybody on this team contributes in some way, even if it’s not obvious.” He walked around the small crowd in the doorway to kneel at Tadashi’s side opposite Yū and Shouyou, then smiled kindly. “It’s easy to feel inadequate when everyone else around you seems to shine. Sure, a lot of us are really good at a particular thing. We’ve got talent all around,” he said with a gesture around the room. “But talent alone doesn’t make a team. Without glue to hold it all together, it would fall apart in a heartbeat.” 

“Glue?” Tadashi echoed. Daichi was usually pretty good at pep talks, but being compared to an elementary’s schooler’s favorite arts and crafts tool was pretty disheartening. 

“That’s right!” Koushi chirped while clapping his hands together. He smiled brightly as he walked to stand behind his best friend. “The glue is the most important part of a team. And, plot twist, it’s not Daichi, despite how amazing he is at pumping everyone up.” 

Daichi laughed and rubbed awkwardly at the back of his neck. Meanwhile, Tadashi scrunched up his face in doubt. Him, the glue of the team? That couldn’t be true… 

“None of us could imagine the team without you.” 

Everyone looked at Kei with wide eyes when he said that, not just Tadashi. He was leaned up against his bedroom wall with his arms crossed. To everyone else, he probably looked unbothered, like he believed he had merely been stating fact. But Tadashi knew him way better than that—enough to see the faint haze of pink across his cheeks and the bridge of his nose. And Kei obviously didn’t give a damn about pleasing anyone else in the room. He was staring right into Tadashi’s eyes with an intensity that made Tadashi’s body begin to grow warm. 

“He’s right, though!” Shouyou chirped, and when Tadashi glanced at him, he was grinning broadly. “You always know the most encouraging thing to say!” 

“Yeah, totally!” Yū agreed adamantly. “And you’re always so supportive! You always make sure to be the first one to greet us when we come off the court, with water and towels and everything.” 

“And,” Daichi added when Tadashi narrowed his eyes in doubt, “we know that you believe in us one-hundred-percent. There’s no better feeling than knowing that you have your teammates’ confidence to succeed. That means more than even the fanciest moves on the volleyball court. It can mean the difference between victory and defeat.” 

“... That’s a bit of a stretch, don’t you think?” Tadashi laughed, trying to deflect from the fact that he was about to break down in tears. It didn’t work; they leaked out when he pulled the covers down off his face to give them all a watery smile. 

“Look, if you want to train hard so you feel like you have more to offer, that’s fine,” Daichi smirked down at him. “But I will not condone working yourself to death, especially because you feel like you don’t have anything to offer at all. Understood?” 

“Yes, Captain,” Tadashi laughed while he rubbed at his eyes with the heels of his palms. “I hear ya loud and clear.” 

“Great! Now that this is all settled… I’m hungry,” Shouyou groaned, curling up to hold his rumbling belly tenderly. He shuddered, then looked up at Kei pitifully. “... Hey, your mom can cook, right?”

“Get out of my house and never come back.” 

Despite Kei nearly throwing Shouyou out his bedroom window (three times), the whole team ended up staying at Kei’s house until deep into the night. It was approaching midnight before the last of them shambled out, and when Kei came back into his room, it was to fling off his glasses and collapse face-first into his bed. 

“Socializing is exhausting,” he moaned into his pillow. Tadashi, who was feeling much better now, laughed as he rolled onto his belly to boost himself up onto his elbows and smile in amusement at his absolutely drained friend. 

“Yeah, but even you must have had just a teensy bit of fun. Come on, soda came out of your mom’s nose ‘cuz she laughed so hard at Shouyou sticking chopsticks in his mouth and pretending to be a walrus,” he said with a raised eyebrow. 

Kei flipped him the finger, and Tadashi just laughed again before flopping down into the futon. A few minutes of comfortable silence settled between them. Fearing that Kei may actually fall asleep, Tadashi piped up, “Thanks, by the way.” 

Kei heaved a sigh, then rolled onto his side to face Tadashi. He was clinging to his last shreds of consciousness, eyes lidded to small, hazy slits and a yawn splitting his face. 

“‘M not good at the whole comfort thing,” he mumbled, “but I didn’t want you to keep believing you were worthless. You’re not.” He paused, then added in a smaller voice, “Never have been.” 

“Well, you did a pretty good job of it today,” Tadashi smiled at him. He propped his arms up on the pillow and laid his cheek across his forearm, just smiling contentedly up at Kei. He really did have the best friend in the whole world, Kei’s quirks aside. “So, um… When I’m all healed up, you wanna see the technique I’ve been working on?” 

“Mhmm,” came the drowsy reply. “But take a few days, or…” 

“Right, right, you’ll chain me to the bedpost,” Tadashi finished with a snort. “Don’t worry, don’t worry. I promise I’ll take it easy.” 

He said that, but as his eyes slowly began to close, visions of the court began to dance in his head again. This time, though, it wasn’t because he felt a desperate need to do better to feel like he belonged. No, he knew now that he had plenty to offer. This time, he was determined. Sure, he was damn good at being the glue—but he wanted to keep striving to be better, and he wanted to see the look of pride on everyone’s faces when he hit the mark. 

He wanted to take all that encouragement and use it to fly higher and higher, right alongside the rest of his team until they reached unprecedented heights. Together.

#tsukiyama #yamatsuki #tadashi yamaguchi #yamaguchi tadashi #tsukishima kei #kei tsukishima #haikyuu #haikyuu!!

[picklebunbun]

"reflecting through the heart of being respectful”

✿

----------------- 𖦹᯾ꕥ᯾𖦹----------------

hc or oneshot/series?: oneshot

(oc + oc) Angelo + Oliver

genre: angst and fluff

romantic/platonic?: platonic but can be read as romantic

fandom: South Park

cw: prostitution {VERY VERY suggestive but that was obvious}

{angel's side note🪽: another oc x oc!! My bestfriend and my oc are the main characters in this story, they also chose the title and song. Oliver has a bit of a crush on Angelo in here but it's honestly your choice if you want Angelo to reciprocate his feelings}

~~~

bold: yelling, italics: thinking

Angelo is pink, Oliver is blue

If you told Angelo that he would sleep with boys his age to get cash, he’d laugh nervously and inch away from you, but this was kind of his thing now. Turns out when you’re a 17 year old with a part time minimum wage job, it’s difficult to actually pay your rent. Really, the only way to gain money quickly was sleeping around for some extra money

Somehow, Oliver found out after literally two sessions later. He decided to offer up help, like giving aftercare and counting money. Angelo immediately say yes, apparently, cleaning up with sore legs is an extremely difficult task (and also because Angelo’s situation could be used as blackmail and he really didn’t want to hear that he was a ginormous whore from everyone)

This is where Angelo was now, leading a random guy who paid to a hotel room. Grabbing his hand and the customer following him from behind {and looking and his behind}. Oliver was next to the hotel room door, leaning on the wall, waiting for Angelo to be with the client already.

“would you be so kind to makes sure that no one enters?”

“of course! No problem”

“I am beyond grateful to you”

Oliver blushed a dusty red, his lips curled up into a little smile. Angelo softly smiled back but then the client slapped Angelo’s ass making his smile falter and blushed a bright red. Oliver felt a twinge of jealousy, giving the death stare to the guy, the fact that he could touch him so nonchalantly made him so angry. Angelo pushed the guy into the room and closed the door

Not even four seconds passed and there was already a loud banging coming from inside the room, along with audible moaning as well. Oliver was quick to block his ears, his eyes were wide like he’d seen a ghost, but his face was a different story, it was an apple red color. It definitely felt awkward just standing there in place while his friend was getting his back broken, but really, he couldn’t do anything else but listen to music to drown out the noise

-💟timeskip💟-

It was a long 30 minutes, It was a long 30 minutes, the guy exited the room, paying Oliver. He was completely shirtless and sticky from sweat {and another substance 🤭🤭}. The door was wide open, Angelo’s lower half was barely covering anything but at the same time kind of covering everything. Oliver turned red from the sight, sweat beads were visible on Angelo’s thighs, his shoulders and knees were a light pink. His hands helped him sit up, it was definitely one of the lewdest sights that Oliver has seen {and might he say that he looked really good- but Oliver still remains RESPECTFUL}

“HOLY!- OMG IM SO SORRY- UH-HERE!”

Oliver covered his eyes, not daring to even glance at Angelo. Although, it was a little difficult to grab an extra blanket for Angelo to cover himself up more. Honestly, he didn’t think it was such a big deal, but mostly because he was always exposed to boys 24/7. Nonetheless, he covered himself with the blanket anyways

“calm yourselt down, it's barely exposing anything”

“Yeah...but too me I find it disrespectful and I want you to be comfortable whenever you have the need to show any type of parts in your body, believe me I would like to think it's okay and not be weirded out like as if I'm intruding in someone's personal space while I just stand there and do nothing..... really want you to be very much comfortable to show me anything but aside from how want to be respectful too you, I really do appreciate if you put some clothes on....”

Angelo stared at him, he hasn’t heard anything like that in a while. It sure did make him tear up, countless times, guys never seemed to have the decency to preform after-care. It was really nice to hear something like that, especially from someone he cared about. This huge wave of relief was inside him, maybe it was because he’d been waiting for someone to say that, or maybe because it felt good to know that someone cared about him and didn’t think he was some cheap-whore. Angelo let out a whimper, he felt like sobbing right then and there but wanted to save face in-front of Oliver cause honestly, him being naked under the covers was embarrassing enough

“u-uh tha… thank you… that means- tha- that means a lot… you are… very co-considerate on how I… feel”

His voice sounded wobbly, Angelo sniffled. He brought a hand to his own face to cover his wet eyes. Oliver was panicking a little, did I say something wrong?!

“oh my god! Ar- are you okay?!”

Oliver rushed over to check up on his friend, he was very close, but didn’t really know what to do

“I- I’m fine… just that.. no one asks.. how I feel..”

“d.. do you want me to get your clothes?”

Angelo nods. After seeing him confirm, Oliver grabbed his clothes that were carelessly tossed from the previous guy

“do you uhm.. want me to put them on for you..?”

Oliver felt his face getting hot, put it on for him? That’s so weird, why did you say that, Oliver?! Although Oliver thought that the question was weird, Angelo seemed to not mind at all. In fact, he smiled at him

“no.. but, I request that you look away while I put on my clothes”

“O-OH! Y-yeah! Of course!”

Oliver’s face heated up from how awkward he was acting, mentally cursing himself out for being so weird around Angelo. There was a lot of fabric-on-skin shuffling being heard from behind Olivers back. Angelo was changing while sitting on the bed since his legs felt so sore, along with his back but mostly his legs

“I’m finished- WOAH!”

Angelo facepalmed himself in his mind for forgetting that he really couldn’t walk yet. His legs basically felt like jelly as he stood up, and just like jelly, they gave themselves out and let him fall. He landed on his knees which just made his legs basically scream from the added pain. Oliver quickly turned around from the loud thud to be met with Angelo on the ground, in pain, and quickly went to his aid

“omg! Are you okay?!”

“yeah! yeah-.. just my legs is all..!”

Angelo tried to get up again with the support of the bed, but before his thighs even left the flood, Oliver picked him up in a bridal-style position

“don’t even try to get up! You’ll fall again! .. anyways, do you want something to drink?”

“no! no, it’s fine. You’ve actually been such big help, I don’t have any idea how to even re-pay you..”

“it’s okay! You don’t even have to.. you deserve being cared for like this, I mean putting your body to work everyday is dangerous, you could get an STD or get seriously hurt by some of these guys. You worry me, Angelo.. I just want you to be careful..”

“you don’t have to worry, I do background checks on them, perks of an angel after all”

Angelo giggles softly, but that action was shut down as soon as there was a sharp pain in his back

“ow.. my back is really sore..”

“ah hold on, let me help you”

Oliver sat Angelo down, he had his backside facing him. His hand started doing circular motions on Angelo’s shoulder blades

“y-you really don’t have to-“

“you need to understand that having a broken back while nobody takes care of you is going to end up hurting even more, so please….I insist..”

Angelo started to cry again, he let out little sniffles here and there until he really couldn’t contain his weeping. The way he jolted every time he tried to suck in a cry was a pretty obvious give-away

“what happened?! Did I do something wrong?!”

“it’s nothing! j-just continue… what you’re doing! I’m- I’m fine…”

Finally, Angelo collected himself and calmed himself down. The massage was actually pretty relaxing, it made Angelo groan each time Oliver kneaded the part it hurt. His pain started to lower itself down, so that was a good thing. The atmosphere was pretty depressing, Angelo didn’t know how long he could keep up this job

“take some time to breath and take a break okay?... you're going to need it if you keep putting your body to work like this...”

“it’s fine, my body regenerates faster than a normal human”

That was a lie, and Oliver knew it was too, but it was hard to point it out, even when Angelo denies to ask for help

“really? I just feel like you’re just saying that..”

“I swear I’m telling the truth”

“… if you say so..”

It felt like hours since Oliver started, but the massage finally came to an end. It was time to leave for the day, but Angelo would have to start this whole process all over again tomorrow. He sighed, it was really tiring, that was his 3rd person for the day, but thank god that it was his final one

“do you want to get some ice cream?”

Angelo smiled

“sure..”

~~~

#SoundCloud #south park #oc x oc #oc #ocs #fanfic #angst #angst with a happy ending

[fictional-worlds-are-exquisite]

my knee has been playing up all day and it’s been pissing me off because there’s nothing WRONG with it, my body’s just being an asshole and giving me pain for no reason

and it just twinged before and I slapped it (i cope very well with my chronic pain problems thank you for asking) but I hit the exact right spot to make it buckle under me sdfjkhsldfhsdf i deserved this but boy was it unexpected

#me: fucker. stop it. fuck you [slaps knee] #my knee: aight i'll stop it. stop functioning that is [buckles] #me: [clutching my bed to stop my fall] nO NOT LIKE THAT #i have learnt my lesson #that is a lie i never learn my lesson #i slapped my shoulder not long after because it twinged #oh yeah my shoulder's been playing up today too #fucker #but less of a fucker #because i'm curious if there's actually something wrong with it not just the usual pain #it's likely it's just the usual pain #but since i am unsure it's only 50% fucker #what's my shoulder gonna do though? dislocate? #actually yeah maybe it does start to come out of the socket sometimes #you know what i'm gonna stop slapping my body #solid plan

[frogtanii]

a roar of competitive cheers burst from your hospital room, the boys all piled up on your bed playing in a smash tournament on bokuto’s switch. it was rather endearing to watch the good and grown men argue about which princess was a better competitor (rosalina, obviously, despite not being an actual princess) and, in sakusa’s case, pouting like a sore loser when his favorite — daisy — wasn’t even regarded as a real threat.

he absolutely dominated the next round in retaliation, to the group’s chagrin.

you eventually decided to take a break, the stuffiness and loudness of the room getting to you. the boys, while giving you a variety of concerned looks, respected your decision, leaving you to wander out of your space, clad in the semi revealing hospital gown and fuzzy yellow socks.

it was less than convenient to trudge around with your iv attached to your arm but you didn’t mind. the struggle kept your mind off of what you dubbed as The Incident™, weird as it sounded.

for some reason, the smallest things helped keep you occupied, thanks to your vigilance. your call with doctor yamada definitely helped, his sarcastic, biting nature criticizing some random kdrama had you cackling in your seat until your throat was (even more) sore.

at first, you felt a bit awkward calling him when you physically couldn’t speak but he took it in stride, filling up the silence with his commentary that was much, much appreciated.

actually, all the boys had been surprisingly good about your predicament. it took a moment for bokuto and suga to get used to your lack of responses but they eventually grew accustomed to it and even relished your minuscule reactions to one of their jokes or funny quips.

you were actually, finally, enjoying your time with your housemates and it felt good.

well, not all of your housemates. daichi was a given. you’d seen very little of him after the dinner, only laying eyes on him when he visited your hospital bed when he thought you were sleeping. the look of remorse and shame written all over his face was burned into your memory and you made a mental note to find a way to have a conversation with him in an attempt to clear the air.

while daichi’s situation at least made sense, kenma’s did not. you missed him deeply, and you had no idea what to do or say to fix what had been broken. apparently, both kuroo and sakusa had attempted to reach out, but they were quickly shut down. you could tell kuroo was more hurt than he let on, occasionally catching the tail-end of intense conversation between him and omi, but they were both quick to slap on a smile and change the subject as not to worry you when you made your presence known.

you appreciated their concern, you did, but kenma was your friend too and you desperately wanted to know what you could do to help.

a deep sigh left your lips, the action only causing a slight twinge in your throat as you meandered through the cold halls. your brain started to hurt as you thought more and more about it, stress climbing up your spine and burrowing at the base of your skull.

annoying, you thought, your eye twitching in irritation. headaches sucked mad ass and you were not looking forward to the hell of the one that was building up as you walked.

turning down another hallway, you abruptly stopped, your iv screeching to halt interrupting the hushed conversation that a certain someone was having at the far end of the corridor.

kenma!

kenma twisted towards you, his feline eyes widening in surprise as he whispered a hushed goodbye to whoever he was speaking to before shoving his phone into his pocket and staring at you in shock, pain, and most prominently,

guilt.

pure, unadulterated guilt permeated from all over him, the stench coming off of him in waves. you nearly flinched at the sight of him, the deep circles under his eyes practically broadcasting his struggle to the whole world.

your name dropped from his lips in a low whisper, his immediate reaction afterwards leading you to believe he hadn’t meant to say it aloud at all.

you chanced a step forward at his utterance, and then another and another until you were face to face with each other. you felt his eyes searching yours but you made sure to keep your face neutral if not for the blatant worry written all over it.

his plush bottom lip was pulled in between his teeth as his hands twitched by his sides as if he wasn’t exactly sure where to put them. you let out a soft breath at the sight, kind of hoping he would just give you a hug like it looked like he wanted to.

but, kenma held back, waiting for you to do something, to say something (not that you could) to absolve this horribly tense silence that the pair of you were now enshrouded in.

gently peeling your fingers from your iv stand, you lifted them to sign in the small space between your chests, in clear view of his observant gaze.

you recalled with fondness when a handful of the house members had decided to learn a bit of sign language, just in case someone was in a panic attack and became nonverbal. the impromptu learning session had been so much fun that the group had began regularly meeting to expand their sign language vocabulary and fluency until you all were at least semi fluent (in all the ways that mattered at least).

kenma was a member of that group and you’d throughly enjoyed his witty remarks throughout the lesson and his occasional cute little giggles that were liberally interspersed into conversation. that kenma was in such stark contrast to this kenma that it was almost jarring as he watched your hands with rapt attention, awaiting anything you had to say.

i missed you, you began slowly, not missing the way his eyes immediately became glassy and his hands tightened to fists by his sides.

“you shouldn’t,” he replied, his voice deep and gritty. “not after what i did.”

you cocked your head in confusion at his words. what he did? you had no idea what he was talking about but you were determined to get to the bottom of it if that was what was making him avoid you like this.

what did you do?

kenma’s jaw clenched, the guilt that had faded away for a moment, coming back full force. “i... i did this to you...” he motioned to the healing bruises on your neck and the iv stand still by your side.

now you were even more perplexed. he wasn’t the one who cornered you in the bathroom so what could he possibly be going on about? unprompted, your mind flashed back to that night, the moment where you were heading off to the bathroom, meeting kenma’s eyes for a second when you did.

oh.

was that what he was feeling so horribly about? that he saw you go into the bathroom? that was hardly news and nothing to be up in arms about unless he also saw meiko go in after you and...

double oh.

suddenly, all his behavior started making sense. kenma felt guilty because he believed he was somehow responsible for allowing this horrible thing to happen to you.

oh, honey, you signed quickly, driven to get your point across without him interrupting. you didn’t do this to me. meiko did.

kenma opened his mouth to protest but you didn’t let him, one of your hands coming up to cover his lips. he let out a muffled protest, his breath hot against your palm, eyes wide in bewilderment.

“listen to me kenma. you are not at fault here,” your voice screamed at you to stop speaking but not yet, not until you were done. “i know for a fact that if you knew what meiko was going to do, you wouldn’t have let me go.... you are good kenma, so good.”

his whole body shuddered at your words, all but collapsing into you, his arms wrapping around your waist and holding you tightly.

if you faintly felt the shoulder of your hospital getting damp, you didn’t say anything, content to let him hold onto you and cry it out.

after a minute or two, he sniffled and pulled away from you, his face red and puffy but content. “you shouldn’t have talked idiot,” kenma chided gently, a soft smile on his face.

you just gave him an apologetic shrug and a hastily signed “sorry” before waving him off to your hospital room, sending him a smile as he meandered off in that direction. you didn’t follow, figuring he and the boys needed some time alone to reconnect without your presence there.

taking a hold of your iv pole again, you continued on your way while staring out the window, watching the tiny birds fly by. unfortunately, your little birdwatching stint sent you careening into a hard body, your feet losing their grip on the slippery ground as you stumbled to the floor.

a quick glance up at the perpetrator had your apology dying in your throat. it was osamu, looking every bit as bewildered as you expected him to, a small jello cup in one hand and a spork in the other.

you couldn’t keep your scowl from off your face as you waved away his helpful arm, completely missing the flash of hurt that appeared across his smooth skin. “please, let me help ya,” he tried again, this time earning a physical slap on the arm, visibly recoiling at the contact.

“leave me the fuck alone osamu,” you growled before picking yourself back up and starting to stroll away but you quickly stopped in your tracks, turning your head to give him a menacing grin. “if you fuck with atsumu again, i swear on bokuto jr, i will castrate you and feed you your sorry, wrinkly ballsack on a silver platter.”

with that you were gone, head held high and a wide grin on your face as osamu watched, his heart flipping annoyingly in endearment. he breathed a deep sigh and slid to the floor of the hall before popping open his jello and taking a bite.

your reaction was well deserved but he couldn’t help praying and hoping that things would change between the two of you.

change for the better. change for good.

℗ poker face

change for the better

series masterlist

(●’◡’●)ﾉ

an - GOLLY GEE THIS WAS A LONG ONE BHT KENMA!!!!!! and samu >:( anYWAYS SLEEP IS CALLING MY NAME, LEMME KNOW WHAT U THINK <3333 don’t forget to feed me :3 also pls kenma’s secret not so secret praise thing :00

taglist - if your name is in bold, i cannot tag you

@boosyboo9206 • @geektastic84 • @elianetsantana • @trashy-simp • @infinitebells • @6mattsun9 • @suhkusa • @katsulovee • @kotarosbabygirl • @fucktheworlddude • @insomniacwreck • @calumsfringe • @saltylettuce • @chai-blu • @al3x1ss • @hawksyoongi • @jooleuuh • @loubells • @kissungjae • @liberhoe • @tetsurocore • @animeoverdosee • @duhsies • @saiKishaircLip • @afire24 • @premiyagi • @kit-kat428 • @doctorspencereid • @daphnxy • @kyomihann • @maer-333 • @sinoflust19 • @peteunderoos • @peachiikichu • @iidanotlida • @yongboxerrr • @kac-chowsballs • @tanakaslastbraincell • @memorableminds • @risjime • @starry-magicshop • @sugavwara • @smuttyanimeslut • @kiwibirbs-library • @haijkk • @airybnb • @crybabygumi • @iwaisa • @decaffinatedtealover • @notameera • @kawaii-angelanne • @rintarovibes • @urlocalsimp • @keiarma • @shrimpypenis

the rest of the tags will be in the replies!!

#haikyuu!! #haikyuu x reader #hq x reader #hq smau #haikyuu x reader smau #haikyuu smau #haikyuu #hq x reader smau #haikyuu angst #hq angst #haikyuu fluff #hq fluff #atsumu x reader #osamu x reader #kenma x reader #kuroo x reader #bokuto x reader #akaashi x reader #daichi x reader #sugawara x reader #oikawa x reader #iwaizumi x reader #sakusa x reader #tw toxicity #tw toxic behavior #tw toxic people #tw toxic relationship #haikyuu social media au #hq social media au #℗ poker face

[ppersonna]

out of my league - knj | 01

you were out of my league. got my heartbeat racing. if i die, don't wake me, cause you are more than just a dream - out of my league, fitz and the tantrums

✹ summary- Kim Namjoon was never supposed to find out about your years-long hopeless crush on him. And he most definitely was not supposed to find out about it in front of all your coworkers in a company-wide meeting.

✹ rating- explicit/18+/nsfw

✹ pairing- kim namjoon x reader

✹ word count- 6.6k

✹ genre- angst, smut, comedy

✹ chapter warnings- swearing, descriptions of sex, sexual content, namjoon being a sexy flirt, jungkook being a himbo, awkward conversations, jimin being a protective bff

✹ a/n- hello and welcome to this fic thats lived in my google docs for almost a year now. without @ladyartemesia @xjoonchildx @untaemedqueen and @chimoona, i would never have posted it. i truly owe so much of my brainstorming and creativity to their incredible brains and thoughts and ideas. i love them very much! i hope you enjoy this first chapter! please feel free to message me, talk to me abt anything!! im always here to chat. ILY!

MASTERLIST

Kim Namjoon was never supposed to find out this way.

You planned to confess your undying, unerring love for your coworker at a better time, a classier place. You would wear a dress that highlighted your features, hair cascading down your back, makeup done to perfection and spritzed with expensive perfume. You’d confess, he’d confess right back, and you’d live happily ever after.

You’d also dreamt that Kim Namjoon would have the slightest inkling of who you are before he finds out about your year long crush. He might know you as the mousy girl in the office who doesn’t talk and doesn’t contribute much other than some crunched numbers and apparently the best coffee brewer in the office. But you’d prefer he knows you well—your favorite colors and movies and foods, what makes you happy and sad; things future husbands should know.

You very much did not think it would happen in a company wide conference, full of over five hundred suit-wearing executives. You did not think it would be done by the office bully, Chungha, who carefully takes over the mic and speaks the words clearly as she presents awards of recognition.

“Congratulations to Kim Namjoon for 5 years with the company, over $4 million in revenue, and the object of ____’s lust and affection. I’m sure you two will have the happy life she’s written in her journal about. Make sure you celebrate with her today!”

The room is silent, so silent you could have heard a pin drop from a mile away. Your face is cherry red and you wish the earth would open up and swallow you whole. Your heart feels like someone has ripped it in half and you stare in horror at the girl smirking at the front. Is this what it feels like to be backstabbed? Namjoon looks perplexed—confusion written on his face as he gestures around to no one in particular like he’s saying ‘what the fuck was that?’

Awkward coughing and clapping begins and Namjoon stands to receive his award, a fine wooden fountain pen, and chances a glance around the room. He easily spots you, with your wide, frightened face. His look remains passive, not hinting what he’s thinking behind those stormy eyes, before he turns and sits back down at the table with his buddies from his department.

You seriously contemplate quitting your job. You could find a new one easily, right? Just stand up and tell your boss you quit and you’re out of there before Namjoon ever sees you again and you’ll never have to face the mean girl who’s ratting you out.

As much as the idea rolls through your head, you know you won’t do it. You love your job, love the security and finances it provides you, and you love to look at Kim Namjoon, all day every day.

You don’t understand where things went wrong.

( one month ago )

It’s 9:03 am. You finish brewing the coffee in the small staff kitchen and sigh at the aroma of the freshly ground beans. Coffee is your favorite meal, favorite time of day, favorite snack, and preferred beverage. You drink it constantly. You’re known as “coffee girl” at work, mostly because no one really bothers to get to know you beyond that. You drink coffee like it’s a devoted religion. You could drink a cup right before bed and still sleep like a baby. It was, put simply, your drink.

The office workers deem you to be the one to make the pots of coffee every morning, claiming you were the ‘best’. You didn’t mind—you preferred to make your own coffee regardless—but you believe your coworkers are trying to pass off the twenty-minute job to someone lower in the office hierarchy. And you were one step above the interns.

The coffee machine chimes to let you know it’s hot, and it’s ready for you. You eagerly pour a mug, a large one, and smile as the waft of freshly ground beans (by you, of course) fills your senses.

You nearly knock the cup out of your hand as Kim Namjoon strolls into the office, eyes set on the coffee.

You feel your throat swell up, like he’s an allergen and you’re caught without an epi-pen. Butterflies swirl in your stomach and you can’t stop staring at him. He pays you no mind, tired yet determined to pour a cup of coffee and get back to his office.

You stand in the small kitchen, clutching your coffee like a lifeline, and pray to god you don’t do something stupid.

Namjoon pours his mug, and you watch his muscular hands grip the coffee pot. He pours a hefty amount of cream and sugar into his cup—it appears even perfect male specimens have their faults. 

Your eyes dance on his face before they tango down his body. You wonder what he looks like in the morning, crawling out of bed with mussed hair and a sleepy smile painted on his face. He’d look at you and tell you you’re the most beautiful girl and kiss you deeply despite morning breath. Maybe he’d take you to the shower to press you against the tile as he fuc-

“Oh!” it startles Namjoon to see you, and the coffee in his hand swishes violently. “Didn’t see you there. Sorry!”

Your heart melts. He’s the picture of kindness and politeness. You recognize it’s been a few seconds and you still haven’t replied.

“It’s fine!”

“Great coffee, by the way,” he smiles. His teeth nearly knock you out cold with their brilliance. “Have a good day.”

He turns and exits the room without so much as a glance back at you. Your knees feel weak.

Kim Namjoon talked to you. He complimented you. He told you to have a good day. It’s the best and most significant conversation you’ve had with your secret crush.

You definitely file that away for another day when you need to reminisce on his compliment, and you scurry out of the kitchen towards your desk.

Park Jimin is waiting dutifully at your desk when you arrive, a smug smile still slapped over your features as you sip at your coffee. Namjoon spoke to you today—how lovely.

Jimin quirks an eyebrow. 

“What’s got you so perky this morning?” 

You’re normally quiet and passive, avoiding eye contact or any semblance of emotion on your face.

You look up at the blonde bespectacled boy. Park Jimin is the closest thing to a best friend in the company. He’s who you spend time with at lunch, see on weekends, and text often. You suppose he’s the closest thing to a best friend you have in your entire life.

You send him a smirk and lean in close to whisper. “Namjoon said hi to me today!”

Jimin sends you a pitiful look and pats your shoulder. Your best friend is well aware of your secret crush and while he thinks Namjoon is a nice guy, he thinks your crush is a little hopeless. He’s the most popular guy in the office, often has dates lined up every weekend. Jimin hears the way he and his friends talk in the break room. The man is definitely not hurting for female attention.

“Oh, honey,” he sighs, unenthusiastically. “That’s great.” He can’t help but feel a twinge of sadness over how excited you’re getting from a simple ‘hello’ from a coworker.

“I know, right? Anyway, lunch today?” You ask as you settle down into your cubicle.

Jimin pushes his glasses up his face and nods. “Of course! That’s why I came by this morning. I wanted to let you know that Jungkook from marketing will join us.”

You make a face, disgust etched in the lines creasing your forehead. 

“Why?”

Jungkook is well known in the company. He’s a loudmouth, a player, a clown, and everyone’s favorite comedian. He’s just not your favorite.

“Don’t be rude,” Jimin admonishes at your grimace. “He asked to join and well—he’s cute. I can’t say no to him.”

“Oh Christ, Jimin,” you groan. “Not you too! Don’t tell me you have the hots for the serial fuckboy?”

He blushes lightly and shrugs. “Maybe I do! Be nice to him today or I’ll eat all your chocolate ice cream I know you have at home.”

You stick your tongue out, petulantly. “Fine, now let me get to work or else Seokjin will be up my ass.”

Jimin smiles and kisses your cheek before he scurries away, back to human resources.

It feels as if barely any time has passed. You’re working hard, running calculations and updating spreadsheets. You have an eye for numbers, and losing yourself in an equation is just another day for you. You’re shaken from your cheerful place by a vibration from your phone, and a text alert popping on the lit screen.

jimin 12:01 pm- it’s lunchtime!! you better get your butt out here!

You smile and text back an affirmative reply, then move to grab your lunch from the company fridge. Gliding down the steps leading to the fresh outdoors, you meet Jimin at the lunch tables in the grass.

Jimin is sitting with Jungkook. You can recognize your best friend by his hair and glasses, and Jungkook by his obnoxious laughter.

“Hi,” you murmur as you sit down and open up the brown bag lunch you’ve brought.

“Hi!” Jimin is excited to see you, and just a pinch over eager to be sitting next to Jungkook.

“You know Jungkook, right?” Jimin asks, a harsh look in his eyes that reminds you to be on your best behavior.

You nod as you pull out a bag of grapes. “Oh, yeah, hey,” you smile. “I’ve seen you around.”

Jungkook delivers you a signature smirk and you feel yourself roll your eyes internally. “Yeah, you’re Coffee Girl, right?”

You pout and glare down at your brown bag lunch. Will you ever become more than just Coffee Girl?

“Yeah, I suppose that’s me.”

Jimin clears his throat to dismiss any awkwardness. 

“So, Jungkook, I hear you like working out? ___ likes to work out too. She drags me to the gym sometimes. Maybe we could all meet up sometime?” You don’t miss the hopeful lilt in his voice. Jungkook does.

“Oh, yeah?” He narrows a sexy look at you, rather—a look he thinks is sexy that you find off-putting. “What do you do at the gym? Little cardio sets with 5 pound weights?”

What an asshole.

“Sometimes,” you state as you take a bite of the homemade salad you handcrafted last night. “Most of the time I’m lifting heavy. I can bench 275 and deadlift 300.”

Jungkook looks taken back. “What, really?” He sounds breathless. “You lift more than Namjoon-hyung.”

At the sound of the love of your life’s name, you pause. Your face heats quickly and Jungkook smirks. Of course, he recognizes this and not Jimin’s obvious flirting.

“Why are you blushing?” He asks. “Did I say something?”

You’re quick to dismiss things. “Um--no. I just um,” you’re grasping at straws. “I’m hot.”

Jimin is trying not to laugh, hiding his mouth behind a petite hand.

Jungkook tilts his head. “It’s not even sunny today.”

You gulp. “Yeah, I must be hot. With a fever. M-malaria… probably.”

Jungkook snorts. 

“You have malaria? Bummer.” He picks at his nails. “I thought for a moment you had a thing for Namjoon.”

“No!” The retort is quick, too quick for normal conversation, and it gives you away.

“Aha!” Jungkook points an accusing finger at you. “You have the hots for him, don’t you?”

Your features melt, and Jimin tries to assuage the situation. “Jungkook, please don’t tell anyone,” he pleads.

Jungkook smiles at you. “That’s so cute. It’s like a little nerdy freshman crushing on the senior class president.”

You bury your head in your hands, suddenly unable to stomach any food.

“Jungkook,” Jimin’s tone becomes more firm, authoritative. “I’m asking you this as a friend. Please, don’t say anything.”

Jungkook holds his hands up to prove his innocence and waves his proverbial white flag. 

“Secret is safe with me,” he promises. “But it’s cute. I know him really well, you know. I could try to hook you two up.”

You blanch, unsure if you want Jungkook saying anything about you to the man of your dreams. 

“I’m good, but thanks,” you offer meekly. “I’m not feeling well. I’m going to head back to work, okay?”

Jimin frowns, knowing you’re feeling like a cornered animal, and nods. “Feel better, babe,” he sighs.

Jungkook watches as you leave and turns to Jimin. “Man, he’s way out of her league.”

Jimin slaps the boy in the chest. “Be nice, asshole, that’s my best friend.”

Jungkook promises to be nice, and Jimin is blissfully unaware that others are listening and that the man beside him is easy to persuade.

( present day )

The company-wide meeting adjourns soon after what is likely to be the most embarrassing moment you’ve ever lived through.

You’re grabbing at your things and trying to run out of the room, desperate to get out before anyone sees you or talks to you or laughs at you.

A hand grabs at the coattails of your suit jacket and you’re pulled backwards with a yelp. You turn to seek your captor and find the concerned face of your best friend, Jimin.

“Are you okay? What the fuck just happened?”

Jimin’s concern makes it all real. Until now you could pretend you were in a fugue state, totally dissociated from reality. Now, you realize that everyone in the entire company is aware of your crush on Kim Namjoon.

You can feel your bottom lip wobble, tears threatening to spill. Jimin murmurs an ‘oh shit’ and drags you out of the large room and into the nearest bathroom. He pushes you to sit against the sink and passes you toilet paper to dab at your eyes.

“I don’t know how she found out!” you cry. “God, I feel so stupid and embarrassed.”

It incenses Jimin. He’s holding it back to ensure you’re okay, but in reality, it’s an HR nightmare waiting to happen. He’ll find who did it and punish them accordingly.

They will suffer. 

“It’s okay, babe,” he pulls you into a hug. “Everyone will forget about it soon. They’ll think it’s just a lame office joke, okay?”

You nod, feeling the slightest bit comforted by his words. 

“How could she find out, Jiminie?” You ask with a sniffle. “You’re the only person who knows.”

Jimin sighs and shakes his head.

“I don’t know, but they’re dead. I haven’t told any-... oh, my god,” Jimin stops suddenly. You look up at him to catch what he’s thinking.

He growls and balls his fists. 

“Jungkook knew.”

You let out a sob and bawl your eyes out into the tissue you’re holding. Jimin holds you tighter while he conjures up a hundred different ways to hurt someone and make it look like an accident.

“Don’t worry,” Jimin sighs, trying to comfort both you and himself. “I’m HR. I have to handle this. I’ll make sure they get what they deserve.”

You feel a sting of pain for Jimin. He’s been hopelessly doting on the man who spilled the beans for a few months now, even got to take him on a few dates. It was still nothing serious, but Jimin was clearly smitten.

“I’m sorry you have to do that, Chim,” you whisper. “I know how you feel about him.”

“Yeah, well,” he swallows thickly. “You’re more important than any asshole.”

Jimin holds you tight for a few minutes longer, before you clean yourself up and steel yourself. Ignore everyone, Jimin encourages. Just get to work, he says. Then you can go home and we’ll drink wine and forget about it all, he promises.

You replay his words in his head like a prayer as you walk down the corridors and towards your office. Everyone in the hallways stops to stare at you. They lean towards their friends and whisper. You hear snippets of their gossip, like “Namjoon” and “out of her league”. It drives the sharp blade lodged in your chest even further. It threatens to collapse your lungs and break your ribs.

You make it to your desk safe and sound and bury yourself in work and forcibly ignore the gawking and the stares. 

Just make it home. Just get through the day. You’re almost there.

You could do this.

You nearly make it the entire day before running into the one person you didn’t want to see, Kim Namjoon.

At the end of the day, you’re taking the stairs down to the parking garage instead of the elevator. The elevator is too busy, too many people, and you’re trying to avoid the stares and giggles at your expense. The stairs are always deserted and you figure it’s your safest bet.

You can nearly hear the wine calling your name at home. A delicate glass of Sauvignon Blanc and some chocolate ice cream and a good cry—it sounds like the best and only way to unwind after the worst day you’ve ever had in your life.

The chanting of your name gets louder and you wonder if you’ve finally lost your mind—if you’re actually hearing your wine bottles all the way at home talking to you.

No, wait. The voice is real, and coming from behind you. You turn around to face who’s calling you and nearly faint at the sight.

Kim Namjoon stands on the landing above you, one strip of stairs between you.

“Hey!” He seems glad he’s caught you. “I’ve been calling your name for a minute.”

You swallow and search for an answer. 

“Sorry, I’m-.. I guess I’m just a little out of it today.”

Namjoon grimaces. 

“Yeah, about that…” he begins as he takes the steps down to be on equal ground as you. Your heart is spinning wildly. He’s so close to you. He’s talking to you. On any other day you’d be erupting towards the sky like a firework. But today isn’t any other day.

“I feel like I should apologize,” he states. “I don’t know what happened. I didn’t plan it or anything.”

Damn him and his kindness. Damn him and his cute, awkward smile.

“No, no,” you assure. “I know you didn’t. You don’t have to apologize.”

It’s hard to make eye contact with the man. You want to, know it’s important in intense conversations like this, but the thought of him seeing you—really seeing you makes you ache inside.

“It was a really shitty prank,” he begins. “I’m sure you don’t even know who I am, let alone have a crush on me.”

For the millionth time that day, your face heats to a near boil. You stammer and you’re sure you’ve blown any chance at even thinking about a date with Namjoon.

“Oh, uh, right,” you seek an answer, beg your brain to pick something to say that doesn’t make you sound stupid. “I do.”

“You do what?” He’s confused and you widen your eyes at what just left your mouth.

“I do know you! I mean, I do have a crush on you! Oh, fuck,” you shove your face into your hands. “Please, ignore that. I need to go. Sorry!” You don’t give him a chance to reply, you book it out of the stairway as fast as your heels will take you.

Today was the worst day you’ve suffered through in your life.

The next few days aren’t much better.

Not only are you “coffee girl”, you’re now also sarcastically called “Namjoon’s girl”. As much as you hate your initial title, you’d prefer it to the new one they throw at you as you walk by.

Jimin rats out Jungkook and Chungha to the bosses. They get two weeks probation and they have to write you apology letters if they wish to keep their permanent files clean of any reprimands. It’s a slap on the wrist, and everyone involved knows it. Jimin is furious and wants the boss to reconsider. You tell him not to push it. You’d rather this be over and everyone to forget it even happened. Jimin unwillingly agrees.

You’re working at your desk, earphones shoved in your ears to diffuse the gossip in the room, when you feel a tap on your shoulder. You turn and are greeted with the face of Judas Iscariot himself, Jeon Jungkook.

“Hi,” he sounds sheepish, cheeks reddening.

You narrow your eyes at him, sharper than steel. “What the fuck do you want?”

He winces, knowing he deserved that. “Well, I just wanted to apologize. I know they told me to write you a letter, but it seems too impersonal…”. 

You can’t believe Jungkook is sucking his ego up and actually coming to you to apologize. You thought he’d for sure be the one to cop out and send a shitty letter.

He continues. 

“I just wanted to let you know that I’m sorry that all went down. I didn’t mean to tell her. She got me drunk and said she saw me eating lunch with you and Jimin. I think she was jealous or something and it slipped out. I know that’s not an excuse. I fucked up your trust and Jimin’s trust. But I just wanted you to know I didn’t do it to be an asshole. She sort of duped me.”

You pause as you take in the man’s apology. He didn’t have to come to you in person. He could have easily taken the shitty route and half-assed a letter to you. But he didn't, and he owned up to his mistake. God dammit.

“I appreciate your apology, Jungkook,” you sigh and you see his body visibly relax. “I’m still mad, but I guess the anger is at her for doing it in the first place. I’m sorry she tricked you.”

He breathes a sigh of relief and kneels down beside you. “I’m really happy you believe me. I was worried you were going to kick me in the nuts.

“I won’t lie, I thought about it.”

He smiles with you, and you feel like this is the restart of a friendship. “I definitely deserved it.”

You shrug and smile. “Jimin would kill me for hurting you. He might even kill me for thinking about hurting you.”

Jungkook’s smile drops at the name of your best friend. Yikes. Looks like there’s still trouble in paradise.

“I think you’d be in similar company with Jimin right now. He’s not speaking to me.”

You let out a breath through your nose. “Yeah, he’s a little protective of me.”

“For good reason,” he admits. “You’re like a cute little flower. A cute nerdy flower.”

“Jungkook,” you warn. “I just forgave you after I was humiliated in front of the entire company. I’d be careful with calling me nerdy right now.”

“Fuck, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it in a bad way.”

It’s hard to stay mad at the boy, no matter how much you dislike his reputation around the office. The fact that he humbled himself enough to seek you out and apologize is proof enough to you of his character.

“It’s okay, Jungkook. I forgive you,” you smile. “Thank you for apologizing.”

He rubs the back of his neck anxiously as his cheeks flare red.

“Yeah, it felt pretty shitty to just… do anything else. Plus, you seem really cool.”

“You seem great, too, Jungkook.”

He smiles and pulls you in for a hug, catching you off guard. For the fuckboy type, he’s surprisingly sensitive and soft. You like that about him.

“I’ll see you around, okay?” He says as he pulls away from you.

“Maybe you should apologize to Jimin, too?” 

His smile drops, but he nods anyway. “Yeah, maybe I’ll go find him now.”

“Good luck,” you offer with a pat on his shoulder.

With a sad smile, he turns and heads down the hallway towards the HR department. You pray Jimin shows mercy to the handsome boy.

A few weeks go by, and you’re sure that everyone has forgotten about you and your most embarrassing moment to date. You make the coffee, you calculate the numbers, everyone ignores you. Things return to relative normalcy.

Until it doesn't. The moment you think you're safe is the moment your guard comes down and everything falls apart around you.

It's when you're in the staff kitchen, grinding fresh beans to brew a second pot of coffee, that it happens.

The kitchen is fuller than usual. You normally try to wait until the lunchtime crowd dwindles and leaves to make your second pot, but you're so desperate for the caffeine that you can't find it in you to care.

You trudge into the kitchen with your handy coffee mug clutched in your tired hands and head towards the cupboards to grind up the beans.

There's a few groups of coworkers lingering in the room, and as your grinder whirs the beans around into a powder, you chance a look around to see who's among the crowd.

Your eyes flick immediately to where a hearty laugh erupts. It makes your heart still in your throat. Namjoon sits with his usual crowd of friends, hand gripping a homemade sandwich while the other assists him in telling his story to his friends. He pays you no mind—why would he?—and you can't help but stare at the way his dark brown hair lays perfectly against his forehead, and his eyes crinkle so cutely at the edges when he smiles.

You nearly forget about the coffee grounds—you're snapped out of your Namjoon-induced trance when suddenly a woman's laugh echoes around the room.

"Look at her," the voice states.

You peer up and see a girl you vaguely recognize. Is she from Marketing? Or perhaps Sales? You’re not sure, but she’s staring at you with a sneer.

“She’s so weirdly obsessed with Namjoon. It’s so creepy.”

Your face turns cherry red and you’re sure your lungs stop functioning. The air your body needs to breathe freezes and your chest aches. 

Namjoon turns to look at the girl before he looks and sees you grasping your coffee grounds tightly.

“Chungha was right—it’s so weird. Namjoon, you should talk to HR about this!”

Namjoon turns back to the gossiping coworker and frowns. “Can you leave it alone? She wasn’t even doing anything.”

The girl huffs and crosses her arms over her chest and looks back at Namjoon.

“How can you stand to be in the same room as her? She clearly thinks she has a chance with you.”

Her words come out like a bite. She punctuates her point with a harsh laugh and the group around her mumbles and chuckles in agreement.

You’re desperately grabbing at anything you can, wanting to leave as quickly as possible before you’re embarrassed further.

“Well, she does!” Namjoon replies loudly, annoyance written in his features. “I was actually going to ask her to dinner this weekend in private, but since everyone is so fucking interested in my love life, I have to do it publicly.”

The room falls silent, and your favorite mug falls out from your hands and shatters on the floor. All sets of eyes stare at you while yours widen with disbelief—you don't even care that you’re standing in a pool of old coffee and shattered ceramic. 

Namjoon stands and heads over to you, bending down to pick up the shards of your coffee mug. You take a few stunted breaths to kneel and help. 

His eyes peer into yours. They’re warm—a chocolate brown color that makes you feel safe.  

“What do you say?” He asks with a smile so gentle it nearly breaks your heart. “Will you let me take you out this weekend?” 

You’re gaping like a fish and the surrounding room is silent—bated breath waiting for your reply. 

“Yes, I would l-love that.” 

His smile turns even brighter, and he stands to throw the broken mug away. 

“I’ll email you the details, okay?”

Your head nods dumbly without thinking. His eyes sparkle as he smiles at you, and he extends his hand down to you to assist you off the floor. As your hand slips into his, you can’t help but feel how soft and strong he feels. You wonder what his hand would feel like caressing your face, smoothing down the expanse of your bare back, running down the length of your body.

The thoughts shake out of you as he winks and kisses your hand gently, causing the gossiping coworker to grunt her disapproval and for murmurs of shock to echo around the room.

“I’ll talk to you later, doll.” Namjoon winks at you before he grabs his sandwich and leaves the room, gesturing to his crew to follow along.

The place on your hand felt warm where his lips once lingered. You no longer cared about the angry glares from the rest of your coworkers. Your heart beats wildly in your chest, and you leave the kitchen nearly floating on cloud nine.

Email from: Kim Namjoon

Sent: 3:06 pm

Subject: Hey good lookin ;)

Hey! 

Just wanted to see how you are! I’m sorry about what happened at lunchtime. That was super petty and uncalled for. I really wanted to ask you out, and I hope I didn’t embarrass you too much by doing it in front of everyone.

I was wondering if you’d like to go out this Friday night after work? Say around 7? If you send me your address, I’ll pick you up.

Let me know!

Xoxo, Joon

You’re sure if you weren’t sitting in your tiny cubicle, you’d be screaming your lungs out.

The second the notification of the email came through, direct from the man of your desires himself, your body froze.

You re-read the message, over and over and over.  

The winky emoji, the xoxo, the nickname ‘joon’. It’s all so much and makes the grin on your face threaten to split your lips in half.

Your fingers press the “FWD” button and you quickly send the message to Jimin, before you stand demurely, attempting to give off an air of professional confidence. You need to talk to Jimin, now.

As soon as you’re out of the eyesight of suspicious coworkers, you bolt down the hallway towards Human Resources. Your high heels click loudly on the tiled floor, but the sound doesn’t even register in your mind. All you can think about is Namjoon, the email, the press of his lips on your hand, the way his smile made you feel as if you could fly.  

The door to HR swings open with your tight grip around the doorknob, and you open your mouth to call to Jimin, the lone employee, when you’re startled by the sight ahead of you.

Jimin sits on the edge of his expansive desk with his arms thrown around Jungkook’s neck and is clearly engaged in a deep, sensual kiss. At the sound of the door opening, they quickly break apart, with matching cherry red blushes on their cheeks and mused hair.

“Oh, shit,” you gasp. 

The men are silent and you can’t help but giggle after a moment passes. “I’ll take it you two made up?”

Jungkook flashes you a dopey grin, one that gives you an answer, while Jimin smirks haughtily.

“Jungkook and I were just discussing, umm… his 401k.”

Jungkook looks at the blonde boy for a moment, confused, before he gets it. “Yeah! Totally. Retirement. Love to t-talk about it?”

You laugh out loud and walk towards the couple.

“I’m sure it was a titillating discussion,” you tease. “I have good news though, if it’s okay to interrupt this retirement planning session.”

Jimin nods and Jungkook rubs at the back of his neck awkwardly. “I guess I should leave?”

“It’s okay,” you smile. “I trust you.”

Jungkook smiles as if he’s just won the lottery. He looks between you and Jimin, face pure and excited like a puppy.

“What’s up?” Jimin asks as he moves to sit down at his desk.

“I forwarded you an email. Read it.”

Jimin nods and logs on to his posh computer, scrolling and clicking before narrowing his eyes and reading.

“Oh, my god.” Jimin’s face is shocked—it's written all over his features. “Namjoon asked you out?!”

Jungkook’s child-like grin turns into one of shock himself. He runs around to stand behind Jimin, eyes seeking over the words of the email.

“Well, hot damn,” Jungkook whistles. “He asked her out.”

Jimin exchanges a look with Jungkook, one that you’re not sure you can read. It quickly slips your mind, however, as you’re more focused on the task at hand.

“Can you come over tonight after work and help me pick out something to wear?” You ask excitedly.

Jimin smiles at you, a touch of sadness in his eyes, before he nods.

“Of course, babe,” he assures. “We’ll make sure you look nice and hot for the date with Mr. Kim.”

“Thank you!” You squeal as you wrap your arms around your best friend. He hugs you back before you scurry out of the office and back to your cubicle, itching to reply to the message.

Jimin sighs as the door to his office closes behind you.

“Kook, please don’t tell me he’s going to break her heart. He’s asking her out to make himself feel better about this, isn’t he?” 

Jungkook slips his hand into Jimin’s and squeezes. 

“I’ll find out, baby.”

Jimin smiles and nods appreciatively at the boy, before leaning up and kissing him.

Jungkook smiles against his lips, and is determined to ensure the young HR specialist never hates him again, even if he has to go behind his hyung’s back to ensure his new boyfriend’s happiness.

Jungkook has one mission now, and that’s ensuring Namjoon takes you on the greatest date known to man.

He grills Jimin with questions about what you like over dinner one night. Jimin finds it endearing that Jungkook is so eager to rectify his mistakes, but he still can’t help but worry that Namjoon is doing this to save face—not because he actually likes you.

“So, what does she like doing?” Jungkook asks as he spins his pasta around his chopsticks idly.

Jimin smiles as he takes a bite of the ramen Jungkook has thoughtfully prepared for their stay-at-home date.  

“I’ve told you already! She’s easy to figure out.” Jimin pats Jungkook’s hand gently. “She loves cooking and baking, working out, daydreaming about Namjoon.” 

“Cooking, hm,” Jungkook looks thoughtful as he takes a bite. “I think Namjoon can work with that. I’ll let him know!”

Jimin tries to hide the anxiety brewing in his stomach. He’s had to plaster on a fake smile for you while you tried on different outfits, wondering which will be the one to finally convince Namjoon he is the one for you. It’s hard to fake it around his boyfriend, too—but something tugs in his stomach that flares the cynical side of him.

Namjoon went from not knowing of your existence, to watching you get publicly embarrassed in a matter of minutes. While Namjoon isn’t a terrible guy, Jimin knows he doesn’t like anything to tarnish the gentleman reputation he’s built in the office. And as much as Jimin likes him, and surely likes his friend Jungkook, he can’t help but feel skeptical.

Jungkook hurriedly pulls out his phone and types away, letting his elder friend know of what he’s found out. Jimin swallows his food, and his pride, and hopes to god his growing cynicism is wrong.

Friday comes slower than you’d like. You wake up every day during the week, one day closer, and your eagerness hits peak levels. Namjoon sees you in the hallways during the week and winks at you, hands shoved in his tight slacks that make you salivate.  

He emails you again Thursday afternoon, confirming things and getting your address. You reply in nanoseconds, uncaring how overeager you come off. 

By the time your alarm clock rings on Friday morning, you’ve already been awake for 4 hours.

All you can do is daydream about the date, the way his hand fits into yours, the warmth of his eyes when he smiles at you.

It’s what fuels you through work.

You hope to god the numbers you’re attempting to work during the day come out right, because your mind is elsewhere for more than most of the day. There isn’t enough coffee in the world, but also your body feels as if you’ve overdosed on caffeine already.

The clock eeks towards 5:00 pm and you’re bolting out the door at 4:56 to head home and get ready for your date.

Jimin attempts to meet you before you leave, but your desk is cold and empty by the time he gets there.  

He sighs and heads back towards his office to gather his things, waving bye to various coworkers as they file out of the corporate building.

He turns the corner towards his office but stops in his tracks as he sees Namjoon’s back to him, phone pressed to his ear.

“Baby, I’ll come over later tonight, okay?” Namjoon speaks into the phone.

Jimin feels his heart fall into the pit of his stomach. He retreats and hides behind a wall, ear carefully peeled to listen to the tall man’s conversation.

“I’m going on this date with that chick from work,” he sighs. “It won’t last more than a few hours. Poor girl has a crush on me and you know the usual assholes won’t leave her alone.”

Jimin bites his lip and clenches his fist. Namjoon thinks he means well, but he knows his suspicions have been confirmed, and he’s torn inside. He wants to tell you, to warn you not to get too invested in the man, but he also has no interest in popping the bubble you’ve been in since the day he asked you out.

Jimin lets it simmer for now. He decides he’ll monitor Namjoon and cut things off if it appears the man strings you along for fun.

Namjoon finishes his phone call with a promise to see whoever is on the other end of the phone later that night, and Jimin quickly pulls out his phone and fakes a conversation with no one when he hears the man approach.

“Oh, Kookie,” Jimin giggles, leaning against the wall casually. “I can’t wait to see you tonight, either, babe.”

Namjoon walks towards Jimin and makes eye contact with the HR specialist.

“Bye, Kook! See you tonight, baby.” Jimin finishes up the fake phone call as Namjoon arrives next to him, and he plasters on his best fake smile.

“Congrats on you and Jungkook,” he speaks sincerely.

Jimin hates how nice he is, hates that he’s a nice guy who gets too wrapped up in his own good looks and reputation.

“Thanks, Namjoon,” Jimin smiles uneasily. “You too! Have fun on your date tonight.”

Namjoon’s face lights up and Jimin desperately wishes he could go back in time to 30 seconds ago, before he heard the conversation, and believe that Namjoon truly wanted to date you.

“Thanks, should be fun, huh?” He winks and nudges Jimin, before he waves a goodbye and continues out the door.

Jimin pulls his phone out of his pocket and dials the number of his boyfriend.

“Hey, baby. We’ve got a problem.”

tag list! - @jimidol @aretha170 @dearbambideer​ 

#kim namjoon smut #kim namjoon #bts smut #bts fics #namjoon smut #out of my league #knj #knj smut #rap monster smut #JOOOOOOOOOONie

[wholesomeivygreen]

Sukuna never had a problem getting himself off. He had multiple people to pleasure him ofcourse. It was always one needy whore after another, girl or boy, man or woman. They all wanted to be beside him and praise him.

All untill you. You and your innocent little joy of life.

The day he saw you he was raptured by your sweet smile and blinding beauty. Ofcourse sukuna being the king of curses wanted a taste of you and he knew that once you got a taste of him, you would be on your knees ready to serve him, or so he thought.

To lure you in he disguised himself as a commoner. As much as he hated it that was the only way he could get you to sleep with him. And so there he was standing in front of you- hand in hand...and in a date? He didnt quite understand the concept of dating. It was bizzare and quite complex.. I mean why spend time talking about interests and giving information about oneself that can be used in battles when you could indulge in worldly pleasures lusting over him.

But when he stood there, next to your smiling figure that was failing to get the toy out of the mysterious box of gifts and treasures or as you called it a claw crane.

He didn't understand how small things like those could excite you, he knew he could get you better toys, gifts unfathomable to human kind. Gifts and treasures that only the richest-

"Hehe look isnt this one adorable" you swirled your arm into his pulling him close to hear your heavenly laughter more clearly making him twinge with goosebumps.

As you continued to adore the little ball of cotton he made it his mission to buy the biggest toy there was. Huffing his chest when making the promise only to find you laughing and telling him that it was late and you both needed to catch the last bus.

Scoffing he agreed but somehow the walk back to the station made his way with talks and taunts that somehow made the curse laugh with genuine joy and peace.

Sometimes he found himself smiling and bit too fondly and having to remind himself that he was the kind of curses, devil reincarnated, a powerful curse who once ravaged the earth making thousands tremble-

Disturbed from his thoughts you pulled him down to land the lightest kiss on his cheekbone making him stare at you in wonder.

"Good night sukuna" ofcourse he told you his name....well he wanted to tell you his actual form too but after tonight...god what if he would scare you? What if you didnt want to be with him...wait be with him? Why would he be worried if you wanted to be with him or not?

Laughing he questioned his thoughts making him talk to himself in the dark way back home

'Yea right. Me the powerful sukuna..wanting a woman like her to be with me' what rubbish he thought while having the slightest tinge of red coat his ears.

As a couple weeks went by you both got closer and closer. The more you grew closer you more flustered you got, and ofcourse he wouldnt miss any tiny detail. Everytime he did something to mess with you he would await to see your lovely flustered reaction.

When he would lean down to brush his lips on yours ever so slightly teasing every inch of your tiny self he found himself filled with eagerness and desperation to get closer and make you his. But oh dear god the way you would whimper and sound off his reactions sending blood straight to his dick.

When he found out you reacted like that, whimpering and trembling at his arms sensitive to his touch he found himself repeating it over and over again.

Only to break apart one day and found himself pinning you to the floor as he floated on top of you lips inches apart, eyes fumbling between his and his lips as though signaling to wanting more.

"You look so fucking pretty like this" he said cupping your tiny face with his big hand bringing it closer to a heated kiss, tongue swirling into your own only making you groan into the kiss. With every sound you made, every trace of your small fingers on his body he only was tempted more, tempted to rip off every piece of clothing your body dared to hold.

He wanted to leave marks all over your body, emotion of jealousy and possessiveness taking over him as he left dark red kisses onto your soft skin.

When he raised his head he found you looking at him with a shock.

"Wha- who are you?"

Confusion evidenton his face he jerked back "Huh doll what are you talking about? I'm sukuna"

"No..sukuna doesnt look like this" you said backing off to a corner and as he noted his tatto on his wrists he realised, he changed back to his form. A form he grew when in lust or holding a desire to monopolize something.

Fuck

"Sweetheart. It's me.. I was just-" he knew no words put together would explain who he was and the grew a bit angry when he saw your face holding disgust or so he thought.

Huffing he sat down explaining the most he could. Leaving out parts where he would continue on another day but today he needed you, he needed to feel you, to hear your sweet sultry voice begging him to make you cum.

To his shock you werent afraid, hurting he didnt tell you before this but as you scoped closer cupping his face clearly way too big for your tiny hand

"I just wish youd told me sooner. I dont care where you're from and what you did. As long as we are together I dont want to worry about that."

Sukuna never knew words could turn him on the way it did right now. Pouncing on you continuing where he left off he was quick to remove all your clothing.

As he removed his he noted the way you stared into his chest eyeing his every feature. As though you wanted to eat him up. As he removed his underwear your mouth fell wide.

There was no way that would fit you. No way

As though he could read your mind he came to kiss you deeply

"Dont worry brat, I'll make sure to stretch you wide enough to take me. Hmm? I know my princess will do that for me wont ya?" Nodding he smacked one hand on your cunt he trailed his fingers that were so big you worried about them fitting too.

As he rubbed circles on your clit enjoying every sound that poured out from your sweet lips. As he traced the lining of your dripping pussy he collected some of your juices in his fingers before bringing them to his mouth sucking on them

"Fuck you taste so good. Cant wait to fill you with my cum."

With the end of that sentence he entered your tight hole. Fingering you slowly at first so you got used to his huge fingers. He pumped you in and out observing every twitch and shiver you showed. He sucked onto one of your breasts and the other hand rubbed deep circles on your clit and massaged your folds.

The way he fingered you were sinful, every turn and pull making you moan in delight. As he swirled his index and pointing finger to pump more juices from your dripping cunt he came down to suck on your sensitive clit flicking it with his tongue. He continued his ministrations ramming his fingers into your twitching hole.

He was observant, learning your every reaction as he curled up his fingers to reach a spot so sensitive earning a Yelp and you scurrying away from his touch only for him to pull you back with his nails digging into the soft of your thighs. Kissing you thighs biting the inner side of them.

"Did I tell you could move away from my touch brat? The next time you scurry away and I wont let you cum. Okay? and be a good little whore and lemme stretch you" his words leaving a harsh warning into your brain you knew not to move. Rather you pushed your hips to match his pace as he fingered you to your orgasm.

As you felt a gush of water on your inner thighs you were left heaving and trying to make sense of reality when he came forward lining himself towards your entrance collecting the juices your dripping pussy let out.

"Hmm..and what should I do next princess?? Hmm?"

"Please- I.. want you in me" you said nervously fidgeting with you arms as you let you arms hang on his broad shoulders. He kissed the side of your ears whispering in an octave deeper than usual

"Want what?" He teasing and licking your ears, he knew it was your sensitive spot

"I want your huge cock. Please sukuna"

"Say it clearly brat" he said slapping your boobs before sucking and nibbling your tip

"I want ...want your big dick in me.. please sukuna"

"That's it..that's all I wanted to hear my sweet whore"

As words left your mouth you felt a stretch in your tiny pussy earning a groan from the great king himself before sinking in to reach the deepest part of you that no one ever could

"Fuck you're so fucking tight" he said ramming himself into you obliterating your sweet cunt. His thrusts never slowed down only growing stronger and a tad bit faster so that you were getting accustomed to him. The stretch was so much, too much for you to handle as you felt tears spilling from your reddened cheeks you held onto him hoping you make it out out this alive because the way he was making a mess out of you you werent sure.

He continued and on noticing your tears he kissed your cheeks and lips asking if you were okay. The great king reduced to asking whether you were okay or not..times had truly changed

"Go- go a bit slower.. you're...to..too big unnhhh" you said leaving nail marks on his back earning a hiss from him and that sentence just drove him over the cliff.

Realization hit and he slowed down not so much just a bit so that his arms were on either side of you, mouth kissing your cry of pleasure away.

Soon his arms held your waist in a way to slightly hold you up and he angled himself to curve himself into you. You gasped into the air, breath leaving your lungs for a second as he smirked with the power that only he had. To make such a face out of you.

Hair messed up, body sweating and mouth left gaping open for him to steal open mouthed kisses anytime he wants. As he pulled you closer every inch of his dick now entering your tight cunny you felt your stomach bulging a bit and on looking down you found a bump of his tip. Smirking he massaged the area

"Is my dick too big for you tight cunny hm?" He said but the sight of you fucked up like this only drove him nuts making him turn your insides violently making you scream.

"Yes..you're so big. So fucking biggg...fuck su...I'm.. I'm so.."

Circling your sensitive clit he groaned into the sensation of you tightening on him "I know princess. Fuck I'm close too"

As you felt white run out you jerked your hips to match his brutal pace whimpering about how big he was and how hes ruining you.

With every thrust he grew closer to his unbecoming as he let out white strings of hot cum into your tight sweet cunny.

The sight etched into his memory, you laid out in front of him bare and vulnerable with dark marks all over your body, cunt leaking out his cum and sheets soaked with both your fluids.

This was a sight he would never forget as he laid next to you bringing you on top of him you rubbed circles on his tattooed chest admiring his chiseled body.

He brought your face up to kiss him sweetly, as though he was scared he would break you.

You fell into a deep slumber while the curse stayed awake..wondering what to be done of his new pet.

#sukuna x reader #sukuna #jjk smut #smut #sukuna smut #sukuna x y/n #smut jjk #sukuna ryomen #sukuna ryoumen x reader #ivywrites #smut sukuna

[muffindaddystyles]

DENTIST THE BAD BOI

Word count: 7k

A/N: Heavily inspired from 90's rom-coms, so if your heart swoons out of loneliness it's not on me sistas -- doctor Harry my fav.

Summary: Harry's a med-student and Y/N's an art student, being neighbours with Y/N was already a living hell for Harry but when she fusses over his cat getting her cat pregnant -- he mighty looses it.

Pairing: Dentist Harry × Artist reader, Frenemies to bestfriends to lovers, platonic affection and loads of bestie fluff.

MASTERLIST, REQUEST FOR BLURBS FROM THIS FIC ARE OPEN || PART 2

“Harryyyyy!!!!” Y/N screamed at the top of her lungs staring at the small picture of ultrasound, blinking at it several times to vision herself back into reality because the more she does the more she becomes grumpy and fussy – cursing the beast of a neighbour who got her little innocent cat pregnant.

She pulled the strings of her pyjama shorts to tighten it around her and hastily towed her feet into fuzzy slippers, giving a stink of an eye to her cat “don't act so surprised you little ragamuffin!” She mouthed at her with venom (as if trippers her cat cares), stomping her way out and writes a whole book of judgements in her rattling brain upon hearing the loud music weeping through walls.

She knocks. Huffs when it goes unnoticed and this time pounds at the door, crossing her forearms infront of her chest. Not unaware and very accustomed; of happy chatter whirling around whenever she’s trying to focus how a certain recipe goes by, his mates chanting his name from outside when he’s too occupied in whatever he's sorting out inside for their arrival, clanking of beer bottles knowing they and her have a long time to go, the music dimming in the wee of night as the door closes after every fifteen minutes and it dawns at that time –-- she always get left with one option and that’s to curse him till she sleeps.

It’s every Friday and Saturday’s story.

“Max stop that before Ni asks fo’ a dummy —-,” His neck's craned to where his friends are sitting on one of the cosy spots. His jaw popping, dimples chasmic from the smirk he���s holding and Y/N gulps then arches her brow when his attention drops down at her, “Oh .... hi, could help ya?” His cocky grin irks her – bubbling a fire in her pit and an urge to twinge his ear and drag him to her apartment, to show him what he did.

“Could you help me!?” She laughs ironically, chases her frowning gaze from the ripped patches of his jeans towards where his curls are brushing his earlobes and it kind of makes her gasp which she traps in fortunately because – he’s always wearing a hoodie, beanie or his hair up in a little fountain like bun rushing through the lobby with his thick books and laptop clutched in his arms, “Yes please .. y’could help me by transferring expenses of your cat's babies every month to me —-...um could simply have them in your apartment too if the first deal’s too bad.” She shrugs. Taking a glimpse from his shoulder of his friends bunched over eachother and he toys with his bottom wet lip, brows stringing into confusion and his bicep flexes making her flutter her eyes away as he grips the knob of the door and closes it behind him.

“What d'ya mean?”

“You’re doing it on purpose right? ‘cos there’s no way —--” He cuts her groans with a snap and runs a palm down his face, “I seriously don’t know what you’re talkin' ‘bout, Y/N.” His lips tinned into a flat line, his posture now resembling her's and she slaps her forehead with the heel of her palm.

“Then you should keep tabs of your beasty minx of a cat who got my cat pregnant!” She exclaims disbelievingly to which his eyes turns saucer and he throws his sinewy arms in between them, mimics her expressions comically, “Is that my fault? Did I get your cat prego?” She blinks up at him rapidly --- he’s such a nerve puller.

“Yes it is! You didn’t get your cat desexed —-,” She stuffs her pointer against his chest and twist it with a grit, “Now he’ll have babies left and right – like a catwhore he is!!” She aerials her hands in different directions rapidly and he takes a step closer kissing his teeth together to seethe his words.

“He’s not a catwhore!”

“Kay then take the responsibility of what he did.” She mutters tapping her foot onto the carpeted floor and guppies at him like a fish when he bursts into taunting cackles, leaning to catch the door-frame before he mushes her under his weight. ”

“Ye -‐..- you’re —- you aren’t serious are ya?” His rosy eyelids snib tightly forming crinkles to where his temples meet his cheeks and she almost pouts, how much she doesn’t want to she could never cascade her expressions.

“Oh my — .... Bambi eyed wouldn’t I’ave had free him of his ball’s heaviness –-- if I’d ‘ave enough money down me pocket?” He scrunches his nose to take a breather from laughing hard.

“Don’t call me that!” She bites at him.

“You’re cute when you’re angry.” He smirks gingerly – drums his fingers against his folded bicep and presses his back to the wall tipping his chin high.

Her blush eager to creep up her neck embarrasses her further more and she hides the softness in her voice, muttering gruffly, “Shut up.” Then turns to walk back into her apartment and to slam the door at his face -- but -- his whistle for her halts her in tracks.

“Hey – Bambi, we could sign the custody of kitties if that what ye'want.”

..

Three weeks after. There was another knock on Harry’s door, Niall's head perks up and bangs against the bookshelf –- he was trying to keep the furry cat in his lap, for a good warmer but its more enamoured with the ‘clucks' of his daddy’s boots than the soft flesh of Niall’s thigh as Harry chucks his wallet in the back-pocket of his jeans (he was about to go outside and bring some food) and opens the door slightly to see through the trapping chain, “who’s it?”

“Harry ‘s me ....” The voice mousey and worried. Niall recognizes it in a hot-second, frowns and tries to gain snowy’s attention, “What did y'do again? Did ya get the pretty neighbour's cat prego twice, you fat farts.” He chuckles when snowy meows at him innocently and Harry's brows skews together into a scowl.

“Call him fat farts another time —- I dare you —--,” He howls. Throwing angry upset glares towards Niall – their bickering gets interrupted when Y/N slips her hand from the crack of door, pinches Harry’s knuckles and he squeaks, “Ow —- what the fuck!”

“Harry.” Her tone threatening.

Harry puffs out a huge sigh and reveals himself infront of her, he's not in mood to fight with her over their cats, or the parcel Harry forgot to give her which got delivered to him on accident like one of the thousand times (he never found anything freakish until now .. not that he goes through what’s inside, but the labels tell they’re mostly her art supplies), or why he’s been showering for an hour because she now isn’t left with any warm water —- because he just came back from UNI and is dust bones from having two exams in a row.

“Y/N —-,” His face reeks with exhaustion. His curls drowsy, escaping from his knit beanie and his eyes glazed with sea-foam. She kinda feels bad for disturbing him -- but – it’s an emergency and she doesn’t know where to go, except him.

His weary vision falls upon trippers tucked beneath Y/N’s arm, “Is she alright?” He scratches behind her ear and trippers gives out a pained yowl.

“No –-.. that’s why ‘m here. She’s spotting blood everywhere and –-- and I don’t have enough money ...,” She’s embarrassed to say least. Not meeting Harry’s eyes and he gazes her sincerely –- belly doing weirdly funny somersaults. He clears his throat, grogs out gathering all the information in his head from the anatomy of humans and animals he studied till now.

“It’s okay for spotting in pregnancies – but ‐-.. she looks very much in pain s' we shouldn’t risk it. I’ve a friend. She’s practicing vet -- we could take her there.” He offers. Rubbing the back of his neck and Y/N bobs her head vigorously, anything to save her trippers baby.

“Fine –-- yeah, Iemme just wear my shoes ... then we're good to go.” She mumbles. Harry hasn’t seen her demeanour flatter like this ever before, whenever she’s banging and barging through his flat it’s always taut and cold banter.

He has never seen her this defenceless.

He drops his gaze down at her feet and finds that she’s wearing cute pizza slices socksies.

..

“Is this a clinic, or weed doing zone for animals?” She didn’t try to be mean. It just happened as she takes in the wearbouts of garage, stuffed with drums and musical instruments, spray paint on walls. Harry seems unfazed though, he could be shabbier than her if he wants to –- much fouler that could make her cry.

“Told you. She’s practicing not a vet yet.” She doesn’t question him further. Grateful enough for his help. She might not admit but he isn’t that bad of guy as she once imagined him in her head.

Y/N stifles a snort when a girl with mullet shag, having a stud in her brow and the corner of her lip, attired in all black greets Harry with a hip-check, “Vas’up booger.” She grins and Harry grumbles ruffling her hair with his knuckles.

It leaves Y/N in awe. This’s what group of friends look like -- so fun and annoying, she wanted to have this since when she’s small. Sadly, it’s just her and trippers in her friend group.

“Hi there!” She waves to Y/N trying to battle Harry’s tickles away. Takes trippers from Y/N's arms and coos up at her, “hiyaa baby .. oh, she’s having lil buns inside her.” She laughs and Y/N already likes her so much. As if, she’s the main character of any vintage styled movie.

“Rori here.” She introduces herself as Harry strolls inside her kitchen to rummage through her fridge, “Y/N.” Y/N smiles –-- eyeing Harry who’s whistling and tearing the crate of orange juice open.

When Trippers purrs from a cramp, Rori snuggles her closer to herself – “Her spotting is nothing to worry about –-- maybe she’s ready to give birth. If not I’ll take her to my hospital.”

“So Harry said...” Y/N nods.

“Oohh.” Rori exclaims, wiggling her brows curiously at Harry who’s gulping down juice hungrily, “Booger got normal friends too? Thought, those were all white lies.” He almost chokes at it – downing it cautiously and blinks vividly.

“No. Just neighbours.” Yeah, there’s nothing friendly between them –-- but how it’d be like to befriend Harry. The thought makes Y/N feel snoozy and warm.

“I see.”

“Okay then! ‘m gonna keep Trippers with me for two days –-- figure out what I could do to help her and if she heals I’ll drop her by, how that sounds?”

“Sounds good!” Both, Harry and Y/N chimes together heating their cheeks up. Harry wavers his gaze away, sulking a pouty mouth and turns all stoic again.

He doesn’t want to like, Y/N. Nope. Not at all. In any case.

She’s his bedevilling, bothersome and galling neighbour who just screams at him too much for his likening.

..

“Would you like something to eat?” She asks him while walking back home and he shakes his head, so she nudges him in ribs, “oh c'mon let it be a thank you, grumpy pants.”

“’M not –-,” He was about to snap at her. Instead, he groped her wrist tightly and tugged her to his side –-- she squeals into his chest as a car passes by them swiftly, honking at them in anger.

Her hair wisps from the friction of Harry’s hoodie as she pushes herself away from him, surprisingly he smells incredibly sweet – that of vanilla and citrus musk, something very cosy and like a morning breeze.

A jolt buzzes through her spine at the fact she was about to get crushed under a vehicle but she grins up at him awkwardly, “Tofu then?” His peepers widen in shock and he slaps his forehead.

“You’re mad, know that.”

..

Harry and Y/N. Sky and earth . She sprouts buds of irises and peonies when she speaks, her touch that shines away even an intimidating person as if they're mimosa plants, those eyes --- those eyes are itself sepia of grounds on which the tiny creatures celebrates by and Harry's well ... he’s the floss of clouds hidden behind sunshine, his rains would turn her into loam and his uppish thunder would make her loathe him.

Then some gods decided to break the needles and fix it in some other clock that rotates anti-clock wise.

Now, when she’s unable to nourish her flowers he's always there to rain and stroke a tender breeze against her that makes her lush grass snuggle the roots of who she’s.

They were enemies once. Opposite to eachother in many ways but couldn’t live without eachother despite of their distances. Just like sky's a hollow sheet of nothingness without it’s dear earth.

..

What blossomed their friendship was Y/N's date with this cute boy that is in her ceramic class, (not a date if you’d ask so –-- more like a meetup at this coffee house near her UNI).

Turns out he isn’t that cute. His blunt hands wandered up Y/N’s thigh without her consent and before she could know that, he was groping at it –-- making her gasp and hit her knee against the table. She struggles to writhe out of the chair but he stitches his nails in her skin, “I’m not liking it – you better stop.” She hisses, palms sweaty and slipping trying to remove his grip from around her.

“Don’t act all stupid .. you were hitting at me for hours, you want it but wouldn’t admit.” He groans, rolling his eyes and she feels like crying –-- teeth clanking letting out a shuddering breath.

“I’ll scream.” She warns him.

“You’re not that innocent, you act like.” He smirks, sliding his hand down her insides and before he could reach further Y/N sneaked a fork from the table and stabbed it in his knuckles.

“Fuck.” He shrieks, “Bitch.” He almost screams but stops when everyone stares at him as Y/N’s chair fell against the floor and she stumbles inside the bathroom.

Locking it behind her. Her chest burns with tears. Her vision spins and her fingers shakes as she dials one number she could reach for anytime, it rings then goes to voicemail so her bitten lip wobbles and eyes turn glossy.

She again dials it. There’re noises behind, that of someone instructing and Harry was in his lecture hall when she called .. his heart drops because all he could hear is quivering breath ... it shudders to tight painful gasps and he’s collecting his stuff leaving his seat immediately the doctor who's teaching them Apiceoctomy stares Harry while speaking.

Once he’s out in hallway, “Hey? Y/n are y’there? You okay? What happened?” She bolt her eyes close pressing her head to cold tiled wall and yawps outta fear when someone pounds at the door. Harry runs towards the exist, “Y/N where are you!? ‘m coming .. whatever it’s just --.. just ...” He gripes at his curls pushing them back – his heart beating loud, “ – just stay where you’re ‘n don’t panic .. yeah? It’s okay.” He mutters. Voice soft and assuring.

Her breathing patterns back to calmness – something about him so consoling, so warm and she nods. After some minutes she’s telling him the address and gladly it’s not that far away from Harry.

When he reaches. There are several people waiting at the bathrooms door and he’s knocking on it lightly, pressing his ear to it and grabs the knob (in case he’d have to break it).

When there’s no-response from inside he gets it something’s peculiar, “Bambi. ‘s me Harry.” It clicks and unlocks and he’s tumbling inside while the others groans and disperses knowing it’s invain waiting.

He’s dishevelled. His curls in moppy condition and his eyes full of concern and worry –-- she feels awful for doing this to him.

“Were you crying? Did somethin' happen?” He frowns. Ducking a bit to meet her gaze level and she clears the clump in her throat, “Can we just leave .. please?” He couldn’t believe it’s her voice – the bubbliness and chirpiness of it died to frightened meekness.

Harry takes her hand and walks them outside, Y/N sucks in squeak when the same guy rushes to confront them and when Harry sees his injured hand -- everything pieces together and fury spikes through his veins.

His brows pinches together into a frown, his lips lifting into a scowl and his eyes darkens pitch coal like.

He grips her dainty fingers and moves her behind him protectively and his chest buffs out as he takes a step forward towering the guy – “What d'ya want?” He kisses his teeth together to grit vehemence and that guy lift his trembling hand infront of Harry.

“Look what this bitch —-,” Ah –-- he really pushed Harry’s bad button didn’t he?

Harry grabs him from collar and Y/N squeals rubbing his wrist to pull him back, no-use.

“Badmouth her or anyone —-" Harry sneers and if he'd be a cartoon character – fume would have been coming out of his ears and nose.

“Else what!?” Harry’s more of a practical person -- so he did what he's been learning for years now and breaks his nose with such force it almost knocks him out.

Y/N's still in shock. Walking behind him on jelly toes and a shiver spirals in her bone marrow when her sweat dries from the wind that’s blowing and hitting them in faces.

They wait at bus shelter, sitting side by side –-- thighs brushing now and then flustering Y/N, Moreso when he apologizes everytime.

There’s silence. Harry’s irritated groan breaks it –- he clenches and unclenches his knuckles .. the thin skin a bit bruised.

“Are you okay? I’m so sorry –-- .. ‘s my fault.” She rambles. Taking his hand to inspect it, “I shouldn’t have called you at ---..” He frowns confused and pokes her in knee conveying her to stop worrying. Because if anyone needs to be taken care of is her and wish he could just hug her and tell her that it’s not her fault – not even a tad.

“Y/n...” He gains her attention and his gaze flickers from her snotty nose towards her soaky cheeks, “Shut up.” She chuckles at that putting his palm gently back on his thigh.

“Would you like to have, noodles? I know this incredible chinese place ...” He shakes his head. His smile small and kooky, nose scrunched up as he sniffs the air – predicting a rain coming soon.

“D'we have to eat after every tragedy that happens t’you?”

“Yup, tragedies makes me hungry.” It’s her coping mechanism if she'll be honest and that’s what she’s been doing for ages.

“Who are you, Y/N?

She jumps up. Wiggling her fingers for him to take and beams sweetly, “Bambi next door?”

..

“From when did ya become s' rich?” He giggles. He finds her fucking adorable as she drags him along herself excitedly – she halts infront of the expensive restaurant –- where people dressed in all kind of luxuries and bright pearls are dinning in and she arches her brow sceptically, “Did you really think –- I’ll be able to take us here?” He shoves his hands in his jeans pocket, elevates his shoulders and smiles bashfully.

“Maybe one day, who knows?” They walk towards the chinese take out and Y/N trots backwards –-- facing him all while and rolls her eyes, “’M an artist whose half of paintings goes to trash.” Harry’s eyeballs springs out of his sockets hearing her statement and he really wants to knock some senses into this silly girl.

“Oh my --.. jeez .. those paintings are ‘s good y'divvy. They're hanging onto my walls, been enjoying them fo' free —- what the actual fuck .. really your hands are magical.” He feels annoyed and sad that she felt a need to dump them, because those were some beautiful art pieces.

(“Hmm. It has some hidden meaning beneath it, H. I’m tellin' ya.” Ni would always say. Standing infront of it for hours and hours staring at it.

“Looks like a pussy to me.” Max would quip sipping his bevy and Harry would smack him in head, “Guys how ‘bout we just see it like a fuckin' painting.” He'd grumble focusing back on his books.)

“Really?” She asks shyly and he bobs his head, “Guess you could just keep them then ...” She grins up at him taking the boxes from the cashier.

“Where are we going?”

“You’d see yourself.” She sing-songs galloping over the muddy potholes and Harry looks funny doing it with his spider long legs. Their footsteps echoes in the empty warehouse and Harry didn’t expect her to be the person – that loves finding weird places and spend time there.

“Careful there.” He murmurs. Pressing a hand to her waist when she wobbles on her feet climbing the metal stairs and Harry thinks if she was this clumsy all along or it’s from what happened at the coffee house.

“Holy shit!” He cups a hand around his mouth as the traffic bustles down on the street, “You afraid of heights?” She glances back at him from where she’s standing on the cemented edge.

“Matters. If we're about to act silly and jump, then yes.”

Warmth worms up at his chest and his adam apple bobs, he barks out a laugh when she giggles demanding him to come closer to her, “Come here then you dentist the bad boi.” He tugs the fabric of his jeans from his crotch and hikes his one knee up sitting beside her, other leg swinging in air.

He listens to her hums and happy sounds as she slurps the long noodle inside her mouth, “What you’re afraid of then Harry?” Her question catches him off-guard. Nobody has ever asked what his fears are and he might be famous for an intimidating personality just because he speaks less and owns a roaring bullet –-- he’s still very nice to talk to, but he'd rather spend his time with snowy than waste his time on orgy parties.

“Snowy’s funky farts -- they're ‘orrible!! have to leave the flat fo’ a minute.” He grins when Y/N’s head lulls back and she laughs gleefully, rolling into his side to support herself, “Oh no!” She whines when her chopsticks falls and drops onto the road poorly.

“We can share mine.” He hands her his chopsticks and she thanks him timidly, “What d'you fear?” They pass it back and forth –- his lips wrapping around them as he takes a chunky bite.

Harry tries to down the food that got stuck in his throat when she said nonchalantly, “Dying alone I guess?” He chews the veggies, grimaces and shakes his head -- puts his hand over her knee squeezing it kind-heartedly.

“You’ll not.” She feels like every tulip of light around her’s sparkling – the buzz of having his company tingling her in good way, “Promise?” She asks and Harry lifts his pinky in between them encouraging her to bring her's.

She wasn’t serious about the promise thing it was more onto sarcastic side than to sincerity.

“Promise.” His dimples caters deep and his eyes crinkles when different golden lights dances against her skin making her look prettier than she’s.

He’s gonna fulfill his promise.

..

Y/N could be sentimental given on occasions and how bad the situation’s – but she bottles it up for good amount until later, it all crushes her completely and she’s unable to stand back.

Now, when there’s eerie quietness in the bus and the world infront of her fades behind in weird shapes and forms in her head because of the speed of vehicle – her mind thought it’d be best time to remorse over what happened to her and her eyes well up at that.

Harry plucks his headphones down upon hearing her soft sniffles and turns her towards him with her shoulder, “Y/N hey ....” His voice tender and dewy as he slides his palm under her jaw and cups her cheek to wipe out her tears with the mild stroke of his thumb.

His gentleness rakes out an agonising sob from inside her and she feels like her organs are clashing together.

“Shh. Bambi you’re okay now, ‘s alright you’re here with me -- shh, ‘m so sorry love —- but it’s over now, yeah? We're going home and I’ll make you chamomile tea, could ‘ve both snowy and trippers cuddle with you while I’ll get you all warm and nice inside this new fluffy blanket I just bought! – how does that sound?” He pets her hair. Brings her closer to his chest and she keeps her nose tucked against his clavicles to stop from crying and make a show.

When she nods, suckling a wet breath he swipes a loose errand of her hair behind, “Sounds good yeah?” She just hums snuggling into him.

Her arms slowly loops around his love-handles and he stows her head under his chin -- rubs her back in circles to soothe the stiff muscles, covers her ears with the headphones he was wearing before – plays acoustic version of Landslide by Fleetwood Mac and simpers when she hiccups his name, but doesn’t respond when he answers – his ears turns pink from fond and his belly overglows with butterflies as she babbles his name till she drops into peaceful sleep.

Y/N found herself in his bed with snowy and trippers ontop of her and Harry snoring on the couch – his gangly limbs not fitting at all.

She really wanted to call him and sleep on his bed, but she drowses back to slumber.

..

“Grumpy jerk and an actual ray of sunshine. Sorry, couldn’t process it – too much.” Rori teased Harry the last time they gathered and Y/N was there too! though the true statement was claimed after her departure.

Harry’s friends couldn’t believe that he stepped out of his comfort zone and made a new cute friend, now after one year of their friendship it doesn’t feel like they’re neighbours anymore –-- it's just one big home with an alleyway in between.

“What're y'doin', moppet?” Harry chuckles picking up the half eaten packet of crisps, chewy sour candies, wrappers of oreos and the romcom CDs they were playing before.

Y/N's sprawled on her tummy. Feetsie in air and her chin secured in her palm as she looks like she’s seriously about to take an admission in med school –-- she’s concentrating real hard on the thick book under her, eyes fixated on the diagrams of teeth – it makes Harry laugh like a maniac.

“Aish. Your books, gives me an ache.” She massages her forehead, shakes her head as if she tasted something icky and pushes his book away. Harry laughs harder at her antics wrappers flying away from his grasp and he flops onto couch –-- thighs spreading wide and back sinking into the cushions.

“Where?” His lips rumbles as he tries to hold back another fits of laughter when she gets his dirty joke and pouts, lips fluttering into a smile until she bursts into giggles joining him.

“Nope. My cookie doesn’t throb like it used to sneaking on reproduction chapters in biology.” Harry roars out a cackle at that and Y/N grins fiddling with the frizz of her socks, “Heyyyy it’s not funny –- very much sad.”

He suckles a breath in, their grins achy and big, “Stuff your cookie with some jam ‘n you'll be alright.”

“You’re gross!” She fake gags. Hunches over to exaggerate the severity and scares the shit out of Harry when she gasps loudly slapping his knee, “Harry! Harry! Oh my gosh.....ahhhh!” She gallops like a bunny towards the window and gazes up at the sky with glinting eyes, “Harry look! It’s snowing.” He trots behind her with a roll of eyes knowing what’s about to come next.

When she turns around with sparkly grin, hands clasped atop her chest and tippy-toes to beg him, Harry shuts his lids, “No Muffy.” Y/N loves eating chocolate muffins –-- eating them whenever she could possibly ... and that’s how the pet name Harry decided to call her was muffy.

“Please, it would be so fun .. we could have hot chocolate afterwards.” She mumbles tugging at the hem of his chunky yarn sweater.

“Nothing’s fun about snow angles, Muffyyyy!!” He whines. Squinting down at her with one eye and finds her all slumpy, head falling downwards.

“Okie then. ‘m going to sleep.” She mutters in a meek voice pushing past him –-- but he wraps his hand around her wrist and pulls her back to himself, chuckling with wide eyes, “You’re very dramatic and annoyin’ y’know that?”

Instead, she grins bobbing her head shamelessly, pats his chest and dashes to wear his warm jacket, “Biscuits on you -- hot chocolate on me.” She tells him slipping into her shoes with the support of doorframe.

He comes closer to her and her heart thuds into her tiny ribs as he zips his jacket she’s wearing up till her neck and warns her while pulling out her hair, “If I get sick – ‘m gettin'y sick too.”

..

Harry’s waiting outside the candy shop Y/N just barged in moments ago. He refused to step inside – knowing she’ll use him as a taste tester and at the end of the day his tongue would have a mountain sugar atop his taste buds.

The spring breeze flowery and warm. He shakes his head, smiles softly watching her switch aisles and guffaws loudly catching attention of an old couple siting on the bench behind -- at her eagerness when she started chomping onto the long chewy candy right after getting it from the cashier.

“That’s g'na rot your teeth even before your forties.” He tells her taking the small bag from her and walks beside her, “Your kids are gonna hate you ...” She tells him –- stretching out the candy with her teeth.

“You sure, y'were allowed colas and candies in childhood?” He teases her prodding her side so she throws it at his chest making him laugh and he bends down to pick it up and dump it in bin.

“You’ve got a cute bum.” She whistles and Harry’s cheeks bashes with blush – turns around and wiggles herself, “How's mine?” She hums glancing back at him with cheeky grin.

“Ten by two, I guess?” He bites down a smirk when she spins to face him a bit gobsmacked, “Not even five?” She grumps chin doubling as she tries to see her bum herself.

“Six then?” He giggles enjoying how she’s getting riled up out of nowhere and she stomps away from him so he jogs to catch her, “Bambi. Was kiddin'.”

“You owe me two muffins with the amount of insults you’ve caused my poor bum.” He knuckles at her hair and she slaps him away like a feisty kitten, “I take it back –-- you’re really ten by two.”

“Oi!!!” Now, she’s running behind him. His curls blowing away and his coat ruffling with the zephyr, his head falling back with the belly-ache laughter that bounces against the bricked walls of shops.

..

It’s Friday night. Y/N is doing her laundry. Plucking out Harry’s socks from Trippers furry ear, her kitties sleeping in bassinet. Harry and Y/N have named them Tum, Tug and Truggers –-- she sits back on her heels upon hearing her door closing and hikes the small basket on her hip trudging outside —-- she didn’t had any clothes that could make her feel warm during these days – even her socks were all soggy -- so was Harry’s, now all she’s gonna do is make a blanket fort and hide in it for hours.

She knuckles at her eyes, blinking the tiredness away to see properly who’s standing in the middle of room, “Harry?” He's wearing a graduation gown and tips his hat with a sheepish smile then waves his degree infront of her, “Guess who's a proper dentist now!?” She’s frozen to her spot –- jaw slacked and eyes blown away in surprise.

“Your bad boi!” The basket falls from her hip onto the floor scaring Trippers and she whispers an, “Oh my goodness.” Before, stumbling towards him and crashes in his arms giving him a tight loving hug. He slinks his forearms around her and squishes his face into the crook of her neck, lips tickling her skin and if it was possible for him to freeze the time and cherish it for some more he'd.

“I’m so proud of you.” She mumbles into him with a grin. He feels so worthy and every hardship he faced now feels like nothing, this's how life supposed be throughout –- but best things always bores fruit for the right time.

“How about we celebrate? Just you and me.” Just you and me. It feels nice to just her and him. Makes her heart swoon. Makes her feel like skies outside are wet and pink, “Umm .. can we celebrate here? It’s okay .... “ She shifts on her feet and he furrows his brows in confusion, lips ticked up as if he’s scrutinizing her.

“You and not goin' nutters for an outing .. seems odd —-,” Then his eyes falls over the surrounding, a heating pad beside his feet – aloe fused socks hanging to get dry, a tray of chocolate muffins, kettle on the coffee table so he puts one and one together himself.

“Oh muffy —-... pizza and cuddles then?” If he wouldn’t be aware of how first few days of her period are hell for her then who would? He’s always making her pot meals and curry rice – feeds her and gets all strict when she refuses to eat anything. She looses her appetite and transforms into something ‘if zombie had a baby with vampire -- it sure looked like you’ he'd always scold her.

Even bribe her with candies. Once they were awfully painful and Y/N really didn’t want to be all dramatic not when their friends were having a good time, she doesn’t like to be a party pooper.

But, when a stinging cramp cut through her pelvis and thighs she was hunching forward with a jolt -- all teary eyes and wobbly lips. Harry left everything and rushed towards her, sitting on his knees on the floor and cupped her throat to make her look at him when she refused to, “Y/N ‘m serious -- you rather tell me what’s happening with ye’ or ‘m throwin' you at my shoulder and takin’ you hospital —... cause fuck look at you been like this since morning ....” He was rambling and Y/N felt like drilling a hole into floor and hide herself there forever.

She was mortified and embarrassed, a terrible combination.

She wasn’t able to tell him infront of all of their friends even though it’s something very normal, so everyone stared and nodded when they left they for Harry’s room.

“Bambi are you okay? I’m not even kidding something’s not —-..” She wipes her nose and tugs at his wrist trying to shush him, when he doesn’t pushes a fingers against his lips.

“Don’t worry. ‘m good --- just —-... umm I’m on my periods.” She rubs her one feet on another and his mouth fall into an ‘o' when realization hit him and his brows clinches together sternly.

He sighs running his fingers through his hair, something he does when frustrated and whumpy.

“Should’ve told me. We could have done this later ... do you want anything? I’ve got pain —--,” His words swells on his tongue when her head bumps against his chest and her hands locks around his neck, hugging him with all her gentle will because nobody has ever cared for her –-- him being so tentative to her makes her want to sob into his chest.

He warms her in all the right places.

..

“How’re you feeling on scale of one to ten?” He speaks while chewing onto the stuffed crust of pizza. They’re cosied up on the sofa while Mama Mia plays on the telly and she’s cuddled up into him, he's holding her heat pad with the grip of his forearm and she lifts her head mousey-ly from his bicep and whispers – “Eightish...? Now, you’re Dr.Styles.” He giggles at her and pushes her head back against him with his finger.

“What does my being dentist has a connection to your periods?” He dips the pads of his fingers into her pudgy love handles and squeezes them -- she giggles thinking about the joke she’s about to crack.

“You pull teeth, it’s blood and I pull out tampon so it’s —...” Harry chuckles gruntly at her and tickles her more, “Oh no. I know where it’s goin'....”

“You asked for it!” She pouts at him and he squishes her lips together as if she’s a duck toy.

Then they flump back into their cuddling position and Harry rubs her tummy in tender soothing circles, it helps her relax and his breath syncs with her and she really tries not to pay attention to her bratty screaming hormones heating her skin up – her thighs experiencing a quiver and she squeaks down a huffy whimper.

“You okay?” Harry asks. When she squirms against him and she gulps -- they don’t hide stuff from eachother so she tells him honestly, “You’re really turning me on.” Harry’s heart hiccups at that and his palms still over her thighs.

“Is that so?”

He pets her hair and tries to make her stand, “Just go to washroom and jizz one out.”

“I can’t.”

“You can’t? Why?”

“Promise me you wouldn’t make fun....” He frowns and nods bringing his pinky to make the deal.

She clutches her sweater down to her knees, cheeks rosy and mutters out in one breath – “I’ve specific days for that....” Harry really tires to. He locks up his laughs in his lungs and it aches his chest, his cheeks balloons up but at last he rolls onto floor and guffaws into his elbow.

“You said you wouldn’t make fun!!!” She whines kicking his side lightly and he grabs her ankle, “This means all those times you’d be all locked up –- oh my god, you were playing with yourself.” She folds her arms. Her nostrils flares with irritation and she doesn’t even spare him a glance.

“Pet, waiting so long .. it’s a torture to yourself.” He tells her genuinely sitting up with crossed legs and she mumbles knuckling at her eyes, “just some reasons ... horny is bad.” Now, Harry feels kind of terrible pushy person and he really wants to help her out but he’s walking on egg shells here. So, he stops asking anything.

“Rori's girlfriend is a sex therapist —-“ She becomes all fidgety at that and Harry takes in her nervousness, “It’s totally fine if you don’t want to.” He exclaims waving his hands and she gulps giving him a small nod.

“Night time fo' some grumpy muffy!” He coos, brings the blanket to her chin and his pupils dilate adorningly when she asks him, “Could I snuggle you?”

“Ofcourse.” He pecks her temple and tells her to budge over before sandwiching her between him and the sofa.

That whole night all his mind could think was why horny is bad for her?

..

Y/N was feeling overly warm and heated, a tad achy between her thighs. She vigorously tries to focus on something else but her chest is heaving at this point, even opens the windows and let the cool air hit her but no use –- so she does what have to be done in order to get rid of the throb.

She cosies herself on the bed, switches onto hentai and throws her legs in air to shimmy her sheer white panty down.

“Oh ...” Whimpers teeny-ly when her fingers brushing up her soaking pussyfolds provides her a bit relief – her soft hands wanders beneath her flimsy shirt and touches her skin in the most arousing way possible –-- tweaks her nipples and jerks up, oozing more wetness.

“Ah! Fuck.” She moans easing in two fingers at once and cramps down at them watching the hentai porn –- but it’s not enough, she’s been pushing her fingers in and out for ten minutes now—she’s unable to get to climax.

So she groans sits up and switches to domineering audios, listens to it while fingering herself hard and she has no idea from where her mind gathered these images from -- but -- soon she’s thinking about Harry’s husky rasp, his sea-foam beautiful eyes and those rosy knuckles ring clad hands —-- imagining him holding her down into mattress and pounding into her at a brutal pace, making her sit on his cock and not letting her move –-- his fingers down her petty throat —-- him spanking her ass if she let’s out any voice out and he'd roar at her beg as she'd be lurking at her tenth orgasm –---- every plausible dirty stuff with him.

She was so engulfed into making herself feel good, lost in her own headspace and imaginations that she didn’t hear footsteps approaching and it’s like she manifested him as he stands at the door-frame with blown away pupils –-- guppy mouth and she’s squealing feeling dizzy upon sitting up this quick.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck —-... sorry sorry ... “ He covers his eyes and turns to walk away but bumps his head with a thud into doorframe.

She gasps, knees up and almost shouts, “No!” making him halt mid-track and she’s on the verge of tears, red face and shaky fingers.

“Please ....”

“Stay.”

Harry’s eyes turns soft at that and he walks towards bed, licks his lips wet and brushes the loose tress of her hair away.

“You want me to stay, muffy?” He asks to make sure – she isn’t in haze and all fog minded.

“Yes. I want you to stay.” She doesn’t hesitate this time. Her words honest and full of plead, she needs him, she wants him, she wants to have him.

#been excited for this for so long 🥺 #give it as much love as possible #yahoooooooo yipeee #yipee #Harry Styles #harry styles blurb #harry styles smut #dirty harry styles imagines #harry styles one shots #harry smut #harry styles fanfiction #fluff #cute harry #harry styles #harry angst #hsh #dom harry #dentist harry × reader #dentistrry #doctor harry x artist reader #harry styles fanfic #harry styles smutty imagines #harry styles dirty one shots #naughty harry

[love-toxin]

cw: injuries, yandere tohma, gn! reader

"so...how long do I have to play along with this little game of yours?"

the question spills out of his mouth without warning, yet each word is methodical, careful, like he's practiced it a thousand times before. the teapot clutched in your hands nearly slips out and shatters over the table you've laid out for the two of you, but the warmth of the porcelain fortunately keeps you steady enough until you can set it down in the space between you two. Tohma was kind enough to bring you a gift after spending awhile away, tending to his duties--so it's only natural that you would take him out for some tea in exchange. it's courtesy. it's expected.

but his question certainly is not.

"I...I have no idea what you're talking about, Tohma."

"really?"

he's sat cross-legged for some time now, waiting as you ordered the tea and offering you some idle chit-chat befitting a pair that haven't seen the other in a while. Tohma has always been your friend even when you were young, but as is custom in a place like Inazuma, your relationship has evolved throughout the years. there are things you can't say anymore, things that would ruin your life if you were caught doing them...and now, you fear, the glint in Tohma's eyes may be an omen that he's about to commit one of those unholy acts.

"come on now, sweetheart, everybody can see the truth for what it is. there's no need to hide it any longer."

he's purposely tiptoeing around the question, waiting for the pieces to click in your mind. he need not say anything at all, however--the way he looks at you in this moment, and the purpose with which he stands from his place at the tea table is enough to set your jaw tight and your eyes to darken.

"you know that I was always meant to be your husband. to be there for you through thick and thin, to care for you when we're both old and gray-"

he takes a few quick steps around it to get to you, to kneel at your side and reach out his hands to pull yours into them, and it's all you can do not to flinch away and risk the image of impropriety. but you've endured this lecture before, and the only thing screaming inside your head is for you to resist--just resist, don't listen to a word he says, and bite your tongue of any insult until he finally gives up and gets the hint.

"Tohma, stop."

"-to treasure you like no one else will. I understand your point of view, I really do--we're still young, and the world outside of Inazuma seems so big and grand...but you have to realize that the time to settle down is coming for us."

he rubs his thumb over your hand and smiles in your direction, but you can't meet his eyes. and then it's slipping out of your grasp and raising up to your face, and you feel yourself stiffen all over as Tohma gently cups your cheek, his gaze lowering towards your mouth as if he has an idea of what he wants to do. but that would be grounds for you to shriek for a guard, and you're entirely certain that that's the only reason he bites his lip to stave off the desire.

"you were always meant to be mine. you believe in fate, and you've always put your trust in me...so why not let me help you?"

that last part comes as a whisper, the tearoom private but the walls still thin. one of the many secrets you've entrusted to Tohma over the years is your disagreement with Inazuma's strict laws, as well as the etiquette that comes with being a member of the higher class. you've always despised being noble, and Tohma has always understood you, at least you thought so....but ever since he's gotten this ludicrous idea in his head, you've known even less peace than usual.

"I've said it a dozen times, Tohma, and I won't say it again. I'm not marrying you."

you do your best to spit the words out with as much venom as you can muster, yet you still feel the twinge of anxiety at snapping at him so informally. it could spell the end for you quite easily, but when your eyes are drawn back to Tohma's expression, all you can see is bliss written all over his face.

"...even laced with contempt, my name sounds so sweet on your lips. you've so much wit, so much grace, and your beauty leaves me breathless...I know how little you think of me, but-"

fury shoots through every vein of your body, and you know it's the wrong move when you slap his hand away from your face, the smack like a thunderclap in the small space of the little tearoom.

"enough, Tohma! enough. do yourself a favour and stop speaking to me--in fact, I dearly hope you never say a word to me again."

each finger on his hand twitches, only to close in a tight fist and sink back down to his lap. you try to avoid his gaze in this moment, but even turning your head away you can still feel his eyes staring right into your soul.

"you know I can't make that promise. you know that I love you."

that word makes you stiffen, your grip lock on your noble dressings, your blood turn to ice in your veins. you've avoided that for so long but it follows you like a demon, and it's eyes glow a verdant green as Tohma's words melt into your skin and eat you alive from the inside out.

"this feeling of yours....it's not mutual, Tohma. just leave it, and leave me."

you say so, but you're the one that stands from the tea table in the end, and Tohma jumps to get to his feet to follow you. he trails on your heels as you step with purpose towards the door and slide it open, the cool chill of Inazuma city in the night prickling your exposed skin. the blond hurries to get in front of you, and the moment you spot a few other citizens on the path this late at night, you tilt your head down and pray to the gods that Tohma won't force you into impropriety.

"...I see. you won't budge on this, then...I will have to accept that. but may I at least escort you home? I can't in good faith allow you to wander alone in the dark. I still care for you."

he looks down on you with a softness to his features, and you hate how easily you buckle under any sort of pressure from him. you prided yourself on not giving in before, but when you're not alone it's not nearly as easy--you have to piece your words so carefully together, and by the time you think of an excuse it will already be too late for you to reject his offer. so with as subtle of a huff as you can manage, you speak softly under your breath that you suppose that's fine, and grit your teeth as you thank him for the offer. and Tohma is all too relieved to stand beside you as you walk down the hill and leave the prying ears of the city, the silence near unbearable between you as you meander through the path cut down the middle of the farmer's fields.

"seems there's no one around. not a surprise for this time of the night."

it's not a terribly long walk back to your family's estate, but Tohma still evidently feels the need to speak up as you reach the end of the gently sloping hill. Konda village lies within sight in the distance, and you feel the tension weigh heavy on your heart as you count the steps closer and closer to safety. relative safety that is.

you're so focused on paying him as little attention as possible that you don't even take notice to his hand drawing closer to yours and his eyes wandering up and down your figure, practically salivating as the flames in his chest burn hotter and hotter, until the moment he can't take any more and he grabs you by the shoulders to stop you and force you to look him straight in the eyes.

"now, you're going to listen very closely. I'm going to give you a little gift, because I love you so very much. you get a minute's head start."

the shock catches you off guard to the point that you bite your own tongue, fear and panic shooting through you like icicles that make you freeze in place. Tohma's expression is so intense he nearly appears feral, pearly teeth glimmering in the light from the moon as he grins down at you like a predator examining their prey.

"here's the deal, sweetheart--if you can run all the way past Konda village, you win. but if I catch you, I win, and you must uphold your promise and marry me in a month's time. and if you win, you'll get your wish--I'll never speak a word to you again."

terror grips you even harder than Tohma is, and at his proposal you whip your head towards the village in the distance and then back to him. if he's seriously not making some kind of sick joke, then there's absolutely no way you would ever make it. you're not a fighter, you don't even know how to hold a sword much less have a vision, and you've seen the kinds of things Tohma is capable of....he'll catch you before you make it anywhere close.

"Tohma-"

his gaze lingers on you for a moment, before he turns you in the direction of the village and pushes you forward, only hard enough for you to stumble a bit. you want to question him, to try and talk him down from such an insane idea, but once you hear him start counting down aloud your feet move on their own and you take off in a pitiful run down towards your target. the night air whips by your face as you try to sprint as best you can, yet your robes that give away your nobility get caught on your sandals and trip you up enough that it makes your heart jump into your throat. your heart pounds in a cage that feels too tight, the air heavy and raw in your lungs the longer you fumble your way forwards in the night. even your tears feel cold as they stream down your face, and if speaking wouldn't expend your precious energy then you would surely be wailing for Tohma to stop, please, he's scaring you. especially once you hear his footsteps take off, and it feels as though his warm breath is right on the back of your neck.

but even so, you look up within moments to find yourself in the middle of the quiet little village, the lanterns dim and only the glow of the moon casting light on the humble little buildings. the panic ceases but resurges just as quickly when you remember that you're not safe yet, that the entrance to the village is still a few hundred metres away--and you can hear Tohma panting now, at a distance close enough that he'll make a grab for you long before you'll ever get there. but there's something you know that he probably doesn't remember, and it might just be your saving grace as you duck into the shadows and skirt around the mayor's house just as he skids into the path of the village. you fear in the pit of your stomach that getting the top off the well that you used to play near as children would make a great deal of noise, but you hurry forward and find it open--and just as you swing a leg over to climb inside and pray that Tohma doesn't think to look for you here, your foot slips on the stone that's still damp from the rain and your world is overturned as you fall through the air. it's not far enough that you can scream or grab for purchase on something, but when you land you hear the sickening crack of something breaking and pain that shoots through your leg so quick that it almost makes you black out.

but something worse is yet to come, and it's Tohma's voice calling out your name, before you look up to the sky and your heart just sinks as you watch his face pop into view over the side of the well.

"oh, archons--baby, are you all right?! did you hurt yourself?"

he hops over the edge quite easily and falls steady on his feat, not even having broken a sweat from chasing you as he hurries to your side and props you up in the crook of his arm. and despite still feeling that twinge of discomfort and panic from him touching you, the agony sets in so deeply that you cling to him without realizing as tears pour down your face and you struggle to breathe.

"let me see...yeah, that's definitely broken. c'mere, I'll help you up.."

just brushing the pads of his fingers over the rapidly-swelling skin of your calf makes you flinch and cry out with pain, and it's obvious by the deep bruising how bad you've hurt it--you wouldn't be able to climb out of here if you tried. but Tohma finds so little trouble in heaving you up into his arms that it's laughable....it would be funny how sincerely you thought you could get away in the first place, if you weren't experiencing the consequences now. and only now is it starting to sink in that you lost, even though he isn't rubbing it in your face. yet.

"poor thing--that was scary, wasn't it? aren't you glad I was here?"

despite how despairing you look, he rubs his cheek against yours as he holds you tight. you realize now how much he's always wanted to do this, and how he's dragging this all out while he has the chance to do it without anyone watching....it's such a rare opportunity, but you don't feel nearly as lucky as he does.

"I'll always be here, sweetie....in sickness and in health, right?"

he murmurs into the shell of your ear, before pressing a kiss to it right afterwards as he reaches out to get a foothold so he can lift you out of here. all you can think about now is how your chance of escaping him has slipped away....and now, your status is a death sentence in the hands of the man who saved your life, and will ask for nothing in return but your gentle hand in marriage. how romantic.

#tohma #tohma x reader #tohma genshin impact #thoma x reader #thoma genshin #genshin impact #yandere tohma #yandere thoma #yandere genshin impact #yandere genshin x reader