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#im running out of ways to procrastinate this paper
lostgirlmuseum · 6 months
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Who the Hell is Daryl?
Summary: Bucky is in love with you, and finally finds the courage to tell you. But what happens when it sounds like someone else is already in the picture? (Miscommunication!)
Pairing: Bucky Barnes x f!Avenger!Reader
Words: 2k
Warnings: Miscommunication trope! Only one small mention of “Y/N”, teensy bit of yelling, let me know if I missed anything.
A/N: Wrote this a couple days ago and put it in drafts, spontaneously posted bc I'm procrastinating on an essay. Okay I'll get back to hw now :(
Dividers: @firefly-graphics
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He was going to do it. He was really going to do it. 
He was finally going to ask you out.
-----
To the surprise of everyone on the team, you and Bucky had become fast pals after you joined six months ago. Something about the two of you clicked. ‘Opposites attract’ and all that, but Bucky always felt it went deeper than that.
The two of you had never argued, something he felt very proud of, considering he argued with most people. But not you. Never you.
The moment he decided that he needed to man up and ask you out wasn’t anything fancy. You were sparring with Wanda across the gym, and he was simply watching you work in tandem. He watched the entire 15 minute session, and didn’t take his eyes off you, even as you approached him. 
“Buck, I’m out of water, can I take a sip of yours?”
He nodded, “Sure, Doll,” and tossed you his bottle. 
You shot him a charming smile and opened the cap, and not-so-gracefully chugged half the bottle. You wiped your upper lip and handed it back to him. 
“Thanks, Jamie,” you breathily said, and jogged back to the arena. 
His head was completely empty except for a single thought, tumbling through his desert mind like a tumbleweed.
I’m going to marry her someday.
He shocked himself with the thought, he wasn’t sure where it had come from. But he couldn’t help the grin that snuck its way onto his lips as he realized he didn’t disagree with the thought.
Of course before marriage is dating. One step at a time Buck. 
After his realization, he had spent the next three days planning the perfect way to ask you out. He went through an entire list of ideas, but none of them seemed good enough for you. He wanted it to be perfect. But as the clock ticked on and he started running out of paper, he realized it was best to just be honest about his feelings. 
You had just gotten back from a solo mission, and Bucky was hanging out in your room as you showered.
He was blushing like an idiot and fidgeting like crazy on your bed as he waited for you to hurry up. It was surprising he had so much self control as to not blurt it out while you were showering.
“Oh, Bucky,” you called from the bathroom, the sound of the water pausing.
“What’s up?”
“Could you set an alarm on my phone for 7:30 A.M. tomorrow before I forget? I think I left it on the side table.”
“You got it, Doll.”
“You’re the best! I’m almost done, I’ll be out in like two minutes,” you called, and soon after the sound of rushing water resumed.
Bucky grabbed your phone and typed in the passcode, his heart fluttering a little as he thought about how you trusted him enough to know it.
But the flutter stopped almost as quickly as it started, the moment your phone turned on and resumed on your text string with someone. He would’ve ignored it, but a red heart at the top of the screen caught his eye.
Who the hell is “Daryl,” and why does he have a heart emoji next to his name?
Bucky couldn’t help himself as his eyes flitted over your last texts.
Daryl ❤️ I’m back in town, lemme know when you’re around 
You About to leave for a quick mission, but I’ll be back tmw evening. I miss you sm :( how about we meet up Monday morning at 8 at Bernie’s cafe?
Daryl ❤️ Lets do it. And I miss you too, can’t wait to see your beautiful face!! I love you, be careful
You Love you too, and Im always careful 😘
Bucky felt sick to his stomach. You had never mentioned a brother named Daryl, or any other kind of family member. And you’d told him about all your closest friends, and none of them were named Daryl. How did Bucky not know you had a boyfriend?
Bucky fought the urge to scroll up, and quickly tapped out of the app, and set the alarm you asked him to set. 
So you were meeting this “Daryl” tomorrow morning?
Bucky heard the water stop, and the sound of the shower curtain shuffling.
Shit. You were getting out. Fuck, he wasn’t ready to face you.
You’d never mentioned you were in a relationship before. He would remember. How long have you been dating? And more importantly, why did you keep this from him? Did you feel like you couldn’t trust him? Maybe you weren’t as close friends as he’d thought.
“Which movie did you want to watch tonight?” You asked, peeking out of the door with a turquoise towel wrapped around you.
“Um, I’m actually really tired, suddenly. I think I’m going to go to bed.” Bucky stuttered, avoiding your gaze as he quickly stood up.
“Oh, okay,” you responded, disappointment and concern lacing your voice. “Everything okay?”
“Everything is fine. Glad you got back safe. Good night.”
With that, Bucky ducked out of your room and practically ran back to his.
Bucky tossed and turned, and once he got over his embarrassment, he settled into a familiar depressive feeling. Of course you didn’t like him back. What the fuck was he thinking? He’s—well, he’s Bucky. Broken, only destined to ever be your friend. How could he be foolish enough to think you would love him like he loves you. At about hour 4, the heartbreak started turning into betrayal. Betrayal that you kept this from him. And soon enough, that betrayal festered into a kind of resentment, something he’d never felt for you before.
He didn’t get much sleep that night.
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Bucky checked the clock for the 20th time in the past 5 minutes. 7:45 A.M. You were probably about to leave. Bucky felt his heart clench. He was usually up by 7, and eating breakfast in the common area by 7:30. He sat at the barstool, dragging his spoon around his now soggy Coco Puffs, waiting for you to appear. Why he felt the need to torture himself, he didn’t know.
Finally, he heard your steps coming down the hall. 
And there you appeared, wearing the most beautiful sundress he had ever seen. It was lavender, and had small white flowers adorning the skirt, and it fell just above your knees. 
Bucky took you in, and his momentary adoration turned back to his heartbreak. You were dressed up as if you were going on a date. There was no chance this wasn’t your boyfriend.
“Good morning Bucky, did you sleep okay last night?” 
“Yes.” He lied. Maybe you would tell him the truth if he asked. Yes it would hurt hearing the truth from your mouth, but he wanted to give you a chance to tell him your secret. “Where are you headed?”
“To meet a friend,” you nodded smoothly. 
Maybe Bucky was crazy. Maybe he was overthinking all of this. Maybe Daryl really was just a friend.
��Which friend?”
“Penny.”
So you were just flat out lying to him now. Bucky nodded and waited for you to leave before moping back to his room. He wanted to cry. And he did for a minute, or two, but his tears turned from sad to angry when he remembered you were now lying. You never lied to Bucky, and Bucky never lied to you. At least, he thought that was how it was. He clenched his fists, mad at you for betraying him, but more mad at himself for believing he could ever have you.
He didn’t move from his bed.
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“Bucky?” Your voice emerged after three knocks to his door.
He couldn’t get himself to respond. 
The door slowly creaked open, a stream of light flooding his dark room.
“Hey Buck. You okay? You seemed a little off this morning.”
“Fine.” He mumbled, not turning over in bed to face you.
A pause. 
“Jamie, what’s wrong?” You asked, closing the door behind you and flicking on the light. 
“Don’t call me that.”
“What?” You asked, slightly taken aback. You thought he loved your affectionate nickname for him.
“I don’t want you to call me ‘Jamie’ anymore.”
“Okay…”
He felt the bed dip as you sat next to him. 
“Bucky,” you whispered, “please talk to me.”
He sat up and gave you a pointed look. Was he being immature? Yes. But what could he do, he just discovered that his best friend has been lying to him, and doesn’t love him.
“Where were you?” He asked.
You furrowed your brows a moment, trying to piece together where he was going with this. 
“I was at Bernie’s with Penny.”
“Don’t lie to me.” He sneered.
Your eyes widened at his bite.
“I’m not lying? Bucky, what is going on?”
“What’s going on is that you’ve been keeping the fact that you have a boyfriend from me. Why don’t you want to tell me?”
“A boyfriend?” You blinked. “I don’t have a boyfriend,”
“Why won’t you be honest with me?” He yelled, and you scooted back.
“I am!”
“Then who is Daryl?”
“What?”
“I saw your texts last night, when you asked me to set your alarm.” Bucky looked down at his lap, ashamed.
“Bucky,” you sighed, and a look of understanding crossed your face. A moment later you held out your phone to him.
“What?” He asked, dumbly looking at your outstretched hand. The screen was on your text string with Daryl.
“Call the number.” You simply said.
“What?” He repeated.
“Take my phone, and call the number.”
Confused and suspicious, Bucky grabbed your phone and hesitated over the call icon. 
“Go ahead,” you urged.
He pressed the button. 
Ring.
Ring.
Ri—
“Hey!” A familiar feminine voice rang through the speaker. “What’s up hon?”
“Hello?” Bucky said, looking from the phone to you to the phone.
“Uh, hi? Is that Bucky?”
“P—Penny?” He sputtered.
“Hey Bucky! What’s up, is everything okay? I thought Y/N was calling.”
“Hey Pen,” you interjected, “Everything’s fine, I’ll call you back in a bit, kay’?”
“Sure thing, bye, love ya,” Penny added, and hung up.
Bucky stared at the now blank phone, baffled.
“I don’t understand.”
“Bucky,” you sighed, and tilted his chin to look at you. “I don’t have a boyfriend. Penny is in my contacts as “Daryl” because it’s my funny little nickname for her. My Dad has had a best friend since grade school named Daryl, and they don’t see each other often, but when they do it’s like nothing has changed. They get along like no time has passed. I call Penny “my Daryl” because I know that even if we don’t talk for years, we are so close that I know we would be the exact same.”
Bucky sat quietly for a moment, simply taking in your story. He felt really stupid.
“I’m sorry,” he started, “I shouldn’t have yelled at you. I’m sorry I called you a liar.” He struggled to meet your gaze, ashamed of what he did.
“Jamie—can I call you Jamie now?”
He nodded sheepishly.
“Jamie, I forgive you. But I wish you had just talked to me about it, and asked me. We are usually so good about being open with each other. What happened?” You asked, wide eyes looking into his.
“I know, I’m sorry. I flipped out, I guess I was just shocked, because I was going to—” he licked his lips, “well, I was…”
“You can tell me, Bucky. Honesty, remember?” You soothed, placing your hand on his leg.
He gulped.
“I was going to ask you to be with me.”
You tilted your head, not quite understanding.
“Like, I was gonna ask if you’d let me be your boyfriend.” He mumbled. “So when I saw that you were texting and saying ‘I love you’ to some guy, I guess I was just blindsided.”
“James,” you smiled, moving yourself to sit on his lap. You brought your forehead against his. “You silly, jealous man.” You gently stroked his cheek with your right hand. “You want to be my boyfriend?"
"It sounds so juvenile, I don't know, I just want you to be mine, and for you to call me 'yours,'" he mumbled.
"I accept," you giggled, and watched his glittering eyes shoot to yours.
He had started to say something, but he stopped when you brought your soft lips to his.
“I'm so happy,” he whispered between kisses.
Suffice it to say, Bucky completed step one of the path to marrying you.
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A/N: Tysm for reading! If you liked it, please feel free to let me know!
Also I'm sorry if the ending sucks, I wrote this in a couple hours and Idk why I'm so bad at endings gahh
Here's my Masterlist if you'd like to read more!
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rrxnjun · 11 months
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portrait of a blank slate. huang renjun
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pairing: huang renjun x fem! reader genre: college au. fluff, smut, and the tiniest bit of angst. warnings: swearing, alcohol, angry man renjun, very bad dialogue, this is the most un-renjun fic i've ever written, dry humping, a heavy makeout session, unfinished blowjob word count: 5.8k playlist: no specific one this time but i listened to a lot of keshi while writing this, so have this playlist of mine to fit the vibes a/n: inspired by that one tweet describing how someone's art professor met his wife the same exact way, lost the screenshot and also the og post im so sorry!
turns out all it takes to save a life is a bad, bad college party, a few shots and a weird, magical coincidence back in a girl's dorm room.
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It’s hard to believe that Huang Renjun is currently finishing up the art portfolio he needs for his summer internship program after procrastinating and angrily stomping at every single bad stroke of his paintbrush for the last few months.
Because he’s not.
He’s looking at the canvas with stern eyes, the smudges on the white linen so messy he could cry just by looking at them, and the more he tries to save the disgrace currently scribbled in front of him, the worse it gets and makes the levels of frustration in him turn into rage and fury, because let’s be honest– what is Renjun’s primary emotion if not anger. 
And he tries hard to fix it again, he really does– he sighs heavily while doing so as he takes a smaller brush and tries to paint on a few hairstrokes to the portrait of Frida Kahlo he wants to execute– and in honest reality, it doesn’t even look half as bad as it does in the poor boy’s eyes when he takes a step back after holding in his breath and carefully piercing together the artwork. Maybe if there was someone else in the room– everyone but his annoying roommate Donghyuck, because that fucker always manages to make things even worse– they could talk him out of it, offer some words of consolidation, even, hype him up and tell him that with outsider’s eyes, the canvas looks beautiful and very well put together. But the truth is that there’s no one present right now, not a single soul in what feels like the whole campus right now, that could ease Huang Renjun’s frustration from what seems to be art block, when he throws the paintbrush to the wall (he’ll worry about the stain of acrylic paint later, when he gains consciousness) and puts a fist through the middle of the painting.
If he was a character in a comic book, his hand would go through the canvas and create a quite satisfying hole. He’s a real person, though– a weak one as well, to be quite honest– and his fist is stopped by the stretched-out fabric, making his hand bounce back, but now stained with all shades of brown and tan, which somehow only makes him even more mad and turns him into a furious animal roaming around free and causing uttermost chaos in his all true sense.
Nothing can stop Huang Renjun when he opens the drawer he keeps all his artwork in, taking out all the graphite sketches and colored pencil drawings, and then the next one containing the watercolor paintings and various other acrylic paintings done on expensive sheets of paper, stacking all of those onto one pile in the middle of the table. Not one thing is safe– except from the digital artworks he keeps in his iPad and his big A4 sketchbook he forgot about in the heat of the moment, since he keeps it on his nightstand– when he takes the big, heavy stack of art and runs, chimes towards the entrance of his and Donghyuck’s miniature dorm room, luck only standing by his side once in this whole evening when his said roommate opens the door and clears the way for him, looking at the poor boy with mouth agape in a slight shock.
“What the fuck are you doing right n–”
Donghyuck doesn’t get an answer. When he asks stupid questions, Renjun doesn’t tend to pay him much mind, settling on not engaging with the discourse if it doesn’t make much sense, so Hyuck should be used to the ignorance– he thinks this was a very valid question to ask at this moment, though. If he was curious enough, he’d even follow his roommate down the hall and watch him in his endeavors only to find out what’s the intention behind his angry stomping and the fierce look on his face. The truth is, though, he doesn’t care all that much.
That doesn’t stop Huang Renjun, though, as he chimes down the hall of the boy’s dormitory, kicks the glass door open (thankfully not the actual glass part, because that would for sure be expensive) and practically runs the rest of the way towards the bins at the end of the street, dumping the papers into the bin (forgive him for not recycling in his current state of mind) before he angrily kicks the poor object twice for good measure and turns on his heel, slowly, but still as angrily making his way back to his dorm room by stomping all the way up until the entrance.
The dorm guard doesn’t even ask for his dorm ID like he usually does– Renjun must have been quite memorable as he ran out of the building with 5kg of artwork of various sizes in his arms– but the truth is, the man isn’t as old and he saw the boy going out just a few minutes ago, so he doesn’t think it’s necessary. Renjun would appreciate the memo, although, when he remembers that the man always asks for the dorm ID, especially on the nights out when he comes back slightly intoxicated and too disoriented to look for the little slip of paper in his pockets, and on the nights when he forgets his dorm ID as well– the man was set on letting him sleep on the front porch of the dormitory once and it took Renjun 15 calls to get ahold of a sleeping Donghyuck and another 15 of him walking down the hall in slippers and pajama bottoms with his roommate’s dorm ID in hand before he could warm his bones from the cold slowly seeping into his bones on the January night– and that whole thing makes Renjun somehow even more angry at the whole situation.
And so when he comes into his room again, Donghyuck now sitting on his bed still in his outside clothes (something Renjun hates and would murder for), and his eyes land on the damaged canvas still waiting for him in the corner of the room, he wastes no time in opening his window and throwing it down from the second floor, not really caring where it ends up or if he’s gonna get a fine for violating one of the dormitory rules– to never throw stuff out of the windows..
“Dude, what is–”
“Don’t ask.” Renjun huffs as he closes the door and peels his clothes off, taking a towel that’s still hanging from the top bunk of their bed and aims towards the bathroom door. A true tantrum can only end in a cold shower, and that’s what Renjun’s gonna do as he washes his dreams down the drain and ends up silently crying himself to sleep tonight in agony.
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It’s hard to believe Huang Renjun is currently at the best college party since the days of ‘megaparties’ of Johnny Suh, the senior that’s slowly halting his party performance due to stilling in life. Renjun was dragged to Lee Jeno’s party by his roommate Donghyuck after he mourned in his bed for approximately two days before it got too much for the poor gemini, promising and honestly thinking that alcohol is truly the best solution for the poor boy’s misery. Again, it’s hard to believe Huang Renjun is currently at the best college party of the year when he listens to the loud EDM music piercing through his eardrums and he swears he catches a glimpse of a couple dry humping on the couch.
Because he’s not.
He’s at a college party, sure. He’s also getting some alcohol into his system– because why not, am I right? He’s not the one paying, and that’s always enough of a reason to drink. Is it the best college party he’s ever experienced, though? Absolutely not.
It’s quite literally the worst party he’s ever been to. The music is too loud and the whole house smells of cheap vodka, people are pushing each other around and with the amount of alcohol in his system, the whole room feels like he’s on a boat, his stomach weak and his eyes hazy. Renjun must admit Hyuck’s therapy skills are kind of paying off– because at least now he’s not thinking about the wasted opportunity of a summer scholarship and is instead looking into the eyes of his cute classmate from History class across the room– but at the same time, he’s not thinking much of anything in this moment, and the glint of your eyes is the only thing he can focus on when you get closer.
That might be a good or a bad thing– depends on how the encounter goes. There’s a fine line between the amount of alcohol that’s just perfect for Huang Renjun to get rid of his usual shyness and speak to other, much more attractive human species, and the amount of alcohol that’s just perfect for Huang Renjun to black out and puke on the floor, efficiently making it impossible for him to chat up the cute classmate he’s been eyeing the whole semester and ruining his chances of ever being seen in a good light in front of the said person ever again. He prays intensely that he hasn’t crossed the line yet when you open your mouth and speak to him in the crowded kitchen.
“Renjun!”
“Y/N!” he tries to mimic your tone, a flashy grin settling onto his face when you approach him first. You two aren’t strangers, after all– you’ve sat together in class during various exams and also accidentally bumped into each other in the cafeteria, but what were your courageous attempts in making conversation with him and efficiently trying to make him more interested in you didn’t lead to your desired goal of getting invited out by him, instead leading him to think you’re just that friendly to everyone and not just him, making the chances of him taking the next step that much slimmer. Not tonight, though– he really must have had too much to drink.
“How are you?” you ask, clearing your throat as you bump into someone and decide to shift closer to Renjun, making the boy’s breathing hitch in his throat.
“Wonderful,” he gasps, and for some reason, the response laced in irony makes an excited laugh escape your throat, and the more he listens to your bubbly giggle, the more he wishes he did music instead of fine arts, because maybe if he was competent enough, he could mimic the sound in one of his songs and replay it over and over even when you’re not around. 
“That sounds very genuine,” you note, which makes the boy laugh in return, making him wonder if maybe he could have the same effect on you– if you’re smiling wider now because of the sound of his laughter, or if you’re just amused at something completely else. 
It’s pathetic, really– the gloomy boy that was trailing to this party behind his roommate Donghyuck is nowhere to be seen now, instead replaced by the cheap imitation of a ray of sunshine that you brought out of him only with the magic of a few words and the few drops of alcohol on his tongue.
“Oh, trust me, it was genuine,” he teases, and you only nod to his attempt at masking his obviously saddened composure from before.
“Having a rough week?” you ask, and you sound truly interested– something Renjun hasn’t found in the tone of his roommate when he insisted on dragging him here– and maybe that’s the reason why he just shrugs and decides to come clean and be honest with you. You seem like that kind of person that wouldn’t make fun of his troubles, the kind of person that would genuinely want to help– although he’s not seeking counseling tonight, he figures he can talk a bit about his shitty mood if it means that it gets the conversation flowing.
“A rough life, actually,” he snickers before he sees you eye him with a concerned look, “just joking,” he adds before he retracks back and fixes his initial answer. “Some things didn’t work out the way I wanted them to, so I’m kind of moping around for a bit.”
You seem to feel empathetic towards the boy, nodding and pouting at his confession. “Well, I hope things get fixed for you, Jun,” you mumble, tone of voice encouraging– and maybe he could dwell at the caring nature of you a little longer, only if it wasn’t for your use of a nickname for him that just oh so sweetly rolls of your tongue and Renjun wishes he could legally change his name to the nickname so he could listen to the way it sounds forever– scratch that, to the way it sounds from your mouth forever, which means he won’t change it, just so it’s reserved for you and only you to say.
“What about you, though?” he finds himself asking in the midst of his inner screeching.
“Me? I’m great, totally fine, having the time of my life,” you emphasize, the over-the-top expression on your face making the boy burst into laughter as you wave your arms around as if to show him your surroundings. “I am a party person for sure, you know, so this is perfect,” you joke, and Renjun seems to get the memo. If he’s being honest, he’s not sure he’s ever seen you at a party before– not that he goes to many himself, which might honestly be the reason, actually– you could just be at different parties in different times that hadn’t overlaid, but by the way you’re currently tensely sipping at the alcohol in your hand, he figures you’re not too familiar with the scene of college partying.
“Who forced you to go? Was it your roommate?” Renjun remembers the girl from another one of his classes– you two were always walking around together and often got to class at the same time. Figuring out that you two lived together wasn’t as difficult, and she surely seems to be the more extroverted one.
“No, actually,” you say, eyes glimmering when he seems to remember the girl you share a room with, “to my surprise, honestly. It was another one of my friends– Na Jaemin, not sure if you know him– but the moment we got here, he disappeared and left me alone to deal with my thoughts,” you click your tongue and Renjun finds himself totally mesmerized with you– amazed with everything about you; the way you talk, the way you lean on the counter and watch him with stars in your eyes (which might just be the reflections of the kitchen lights, but don’t tell him that), the way you slightly lean into him when he cracks a joke and earns a laugh out of you…
“They always do that,” Renjun scowls, “they drag the introvert in and then force them to survive on their own…” he shakes his head in disappointment, clearly distraught over the situation. 
“Exactly! But if you ask them to come with you to a picnic, or to the library, they decline the offer. So much for being good friends,” you roll your eyes. Renjun finds himself smiling, and although he must admit that as every other college student, he himself would decline an invitation to a library if anyone asked, he’s like 99% certain that if it was you uttering out the question, he wouldn’t miss a heartbeat before joyfully jogging there with you. 
“Ask me next time,” he blurts out, a poor attempt at flirting, “I wouldn’t say no.”
And it seems like tonight is the night where you suddenly get the last kick of courage needed when you talk to Renjun– maybe fueled by his coy smile when he said the previous comment, maybe just acting out on pure hormones– tonight's the night where he breathlessly takes your offer, still not thinking much of it, but igniting a curious spark in his own heart nonetheless, when you scratch the back of your neck in the last residue of anxiety, scrunching your nose at him and mumbling under your nose, barely heard above the loud music resonating through the living room. “Do you wanna sneak into my dorm room, then?” 
Renjun almost chokes at your question– visitors in the dormitory are only allowed until midnight and as far as he’s aware, the clock is well after 2 AM right now, and he’s a male visitor, which is even more off the bounds in the eyes of the fierce woman guarding the entrance of the girl’s dormitory building. The more he stares at you, the more you seem to translate his silence into disagreement, which you panically try to undo with even more rambling. “I- I mean, since we both kind of hate this party and I think that if I drink more, I’m going to puke all over myself, so… My room is on the ground floor, so you can just climb in, if you wanted to. My roommate went home for the weekend, so there’s no one there, and we could– I mean, we don’t have to, honestly, but it’s kinda cold out and I thought we could both use a place more silent, ‘cause I really wanna head back now, but I don’t want to stop talking to you, y’know, and I don’t know if–”
“Okay, I’m down,” Renjun nods, efficiently shutting up your rambling, and when there’s a very apparent relief flashing over your face, he finds himself smiling in endearance at your antics, going as far as ruffling a hand through your hair in whatever kick the alcohol mixed with adrenaline gave him before you have him dragging his feet out of the house, both of your feet shuffling towards the campus.
The walk isn’t long, but he finds himself enjoying it. The condensation coming out of your mouths at the chilly weather serves more to the atmosphere when the both of you giggle out at absurd jokes and gossip, your voice breaking into soft hums when you sing a song under your breath in moments of silence that somehow feel both kind of awkward, but also kind of pleasant. He drags you by your hand to the other side of the sidewalk when a car passes by and you jump in surprise, eyes wide and glossy, mouth a little agape in an open-mouthed grin when his fingers stay intertwined with yours and you adjust your purse on your other shoulder, clearing your throat before you try to nonchalantly continue on with the conversation.
“I’ll go inside now,” you announce when you get to the girl’s dormitory building, breaking apart from the eager boy and coming closer to him when you confide the secret, “I’ll turn the light on in my room when I get there, so make sure to look out for the window. I’ll help you in, don’t worry,” you smile at him, and before he has a chance to reply, you disappear behind the glass door with a pep in your step. 
Renjun finds himself sighing– now is the moment when he should realistically get relief, the moment when he’s supposed to relax for at least a second and prepare himself for whatever might happen in your dorm room– but when he slowly walks over to the left wing of the building and squints at the dark squares of windows, he wonders how in the hell he’s gonna climb in. Escaping out will be an easy task– the windows aren’t that high up– but coming in will be the problem. He guesses it’s the same with the whole situation– he bets the easiest part of the whole evening will be jumping out and running to his own room– how to survive the night in your presence and not go completely insane, he doesn’t know and wishes he had a manual to before he agreed to do this in the first place.
When the light goes on in one of the rooms and you wave at him from the inside, he finds himself involuntarily jogging towards the window, gears in his brain turning faster than the speed of light when he reaches the wall and you grin at him, opening the window and offering him your hand. 
“If you grip the edge of the window and give me your hand, you can get in easily,” you say, watching as the boy cautiously looks around himself and scratches the back of his neck, mentally calculating his next movements.
“Have you done this before?”
“No,” you bashfully shake your head, “but my roommate did it twice, so I don’t think it’s that hard,” you note and nod at him, waiting for him to finally take action. 
Renjun finds himself doing what he’s been told– and even though he huffs and almost falls over to his back (which would kill him, he thinks, since his physique is very close to a turtle’s), victory fills his veins when one of his legs finally ends up in your window, his body stumbling forward and almost toppling you over when the warmth of your room welcomes him as he lands on top of your desk. 
“Welcome,” you laugh at him when he shakes his head in disbelief and takes off his coat, dropping it on top of the wooden table and watching you close the window behind him, so the cold doesn’t get in. 
“That’s one way of inviting guests over, I guess,” he teases you, watching as you roll your eyes at him and go over to one of the beds. Renjun notices the room is different to the one he shares with Donghyuck– you and your roommate have two beds instead of a bunk one, the table is right under the window and you get a little more space over-all. You turn on the little lamp kept on your bedside table, and the boy watches you with interest as you cautiously walk around your own room as if it’s your first time seeing it, reminding him a little of a deer in the headlights, clueless and suddenly out of ideas.
Renjun finds himself laughing at your behavior– he finds himself endeared by it, the way you play with your fingers in nerves and try to think of anything to do in the intimacy that suddenly envelopes you when you invite someone over to your dorm room in the middle of the night– and when you aimlessly end up standing in front of him, your big eyes even bigger and glossier than before, he snickers at the state of you and shakes his head.
“Okay, so I know I was the one who invited you over, but now I’m kind of helpless in what we should actually do and all…” you giggle, a little embarrassed when you bear your eyes into his, your body subconsciously slotted in between his legs, his position leaning on the edge of the table allowing you and inviting you to do so. 
“You’re cute,” he laughs at you, and before you have a chance to question him about the compliment, he has you silenced abruptly by his next actions.
“What do you–”
His hand is gripping your jaw and he leans into you, the newly found courage and affection towards you having him drunk on more than the alcohol, but also your whole presence– the way your hair smells when he’s this close to you, the way you pull the sleeves of your sweater further down when you don’t know what to do with your hands, the shyness in your gaze now that you have him in your cage– and his lips act on themselves when they press themselves against yours, soft but firm, tasting the strawberry juice mixed with vodka off your mouth, a surprised gasp against his lips more than enough to invite him even further in.
He feels your fingers tugging at his shirt and your skin growing hot under his touch, leaning back from you a little and finding you looking at him with a thousand different galaxies in your eyes, enough of a confirmation to him, but he’s a man– he still needs it vocally, when he grins lazily at you. “Was this one of the things you thought about when you invited me over?”
“Maybe…” you tug at your bottom lip with your teeth, a clearly battled grin trying to settle its way onto your lips.
“You should’ve just said so, then,” he smiles when he leans into you again, a little more confidently this time and kisses you again, again and again.
You stay under the window for a while, lips pressed hard against each other as you try to learn the curves of each other’s mouths by memory, lazy hands threaded into his hair and an arm around your waist now, steadying you in place. Foreheads pressed against each other when you break away for air, giggles resonating through the room when his lips make their way towards your neck and the softness of his hair tickles your skin, fingers threaded when you tug him towards your bed and you watch him kick his shoes off before you follow him onto the soft mattress.
His head falls into your pillow and you straddle his lap, your hair falling into your face when you look down at him from your position, the newly found dominance in your position charging you with unexplainable energy, and Renjun can’t help but smile at you sweetly when your eyes meet and you eagerly lean down towards him, fingers once again intertwined with his, hands laying next to his head. Your breath fans his swollen lips that you once again find yourself attacking, the contact overwhelming you and making it hard to breathe. Who knows how long the both of you have wanted to do this but never had the courage to– it’s a miracle that it’s even happening tonight.
And with the built-up desire, you act instinctively– hands breaking away from his when you grip his cheeks and give him one last peck, lips now traveling down his jaw and neck instead, having the boy shivering under the contact, your actions slowly but surely driving him crazy when you find his sweet spot and you get a satisfied gasp from him, a reward for your tonight’s efforts.
His hand grips your hip, and something about the burn of his fingers even through the fabric of your jeans makes you move on instinct, earning yourself a sharper hiss this time that doesn’t make you stop, however– quite the opposite, actually– as you break into a wide grin at the very evident effect you have on him, your movements slow and painful, but still having him harden under you.
Goosebumps appear all over your skin when his cold fingers capture the skin of your stomach when he aimlessly tries to find a place in your body to ground yourself, but the more he answers to your movements, the more encouraged you get. He tugs you back down so you’re facing him, which does nothing to halt your painful pace as he drags out yet another kiss from you. 
“If we don’t stop now, it’s gonna be really hard for me to do so later,” Renjun huffs into your ear, which only gets you more excited.
“Who said I want to stop?” you ask him, fingers trailing up his side over his shirt, yet still making him fire up and flush in his cheeks. “Do you want to stop?”
“Do I look like I wanna stop?” he snickers, shaking his head in utter disbelief, hand traveling dangerously close to the cup of your breast.
“Let’s continue, then,” you muse, peeling yourself off him only the slightest amount, hands dragging themselves down his body until you reach the waistband of his pants, gently dragging the fabric down until he’s left in front of you only with a tent in his underwear, big eyes curiously and breathlessly watching you in your actions. He could be a gentleman and tell you you don’t have to, tell you to stop and come back up and that he will pleasure you first, but the more he watches you as you palm him over the thin fabric of his boxer briefs with the dangerous doe eyes of yours, the less he wants to do just that. In all reality– who is he to deny a blowjob from you? Or anyone, for that matter?
His whole body shudders under your touch, actions careful, but so painfully satisfying. Renjun watches your face with his bottom lip trapped between his teeth, the reality of it all sobering him up and making him aware of each shift of your body, each centimeter your fingertip travels against his skin, each motion that slowly makes a bundle of nerves appear in his stomach. It only gets too much for him when you lean on your elbows, nails gently pricking the skin of his thighs as your mouth hesitantly greets his dick, and he feels like a virgin again when his eyes peel off you just in case he finishes just by watching you blowing him off like a highschooler at his first blowjob, forcing himself to watch the ceiling instead.
Eyes traveling all over your room– the closed window opposite of him, the bed on the other side of the room, the walls above your bed– he gets lost in the galaxy drawn on a piece of paper that’s plastered right above your pillowcase, and another graphite sketch of eyes bearing right into your soul, as if they were watching him in the act, and another one, of a deer that looks through the shade of the trees, before it hits him.
“Oh my god what the fuck–” he gasps, and his tone must have sounded too different to the satisfied moans that have been spilling out of his mouth up until now, because you abruptly stop your movements and your gazes lock, your eyes completely mortified.
“Am I doing something wrong?”
“Oh– Oh god no, fuck, you’re doing amazing, trust me,” apologies spill off his tongue at your distressed state, “it’s just– where… where did you get these?” he asks, pointing towards all the drawings taped all over your walls that he failed to notice in the heat of the moment before.
“Oh,” you cluelessly hum, eyebrows furrowed, “I found them spilling out of a trashcan close to the boy’s dorms when I was walking to class one morning, and they were so pretty I had to take them.”
“I– you like these?” Renjun asks, full of strange surprise and genuine curiosity. You’re now sitting back on your heels and looking at the boy with big eyes, still slightly clueless and very much in a weird state of distress– because why would a man ask you about the random artwork on your wall in the middle of a mindblowing blowjob?– before you nod with a slight pout, agreeing.
“Well, I wouldn’t have decorated my room with them if I didn’t like them, y’know… Why are you… why are you asking?”
“Oh,” Renjun repeats again, a dumbfounded look taking over his soft features before he sits up on the bed and scoots closer to you, a weird sense of euphoria spilling out every vein of his body when the held-back dopamine is released into his system. A wide grin appears on his lips before he stares into your eyes with a milky way mirroring behind his eyeballs, glittering orbs haphazardly gliding over your face before he reaches your lips again, pecking them one, two, three times before you break away and look at him with furrowed eyebrows, a slight crease right in between them.
“What are you–”
“I think I’m gonna literally cum just at hearing those words, Y/N,” he blurbs out before he kisses the tip of your nose again, completely endeared and close to a happy boy under the Christmas tree, and while you may enjoy that look on him, you’re still slightly confused. Huang Renjun sighs almost a little too dreamingly and smooths the wrinkle between your eyebrows with a careful swipe of his thumb, still not giving you any explanation.
“Renjun, I’m afraid I’m not quite following why this is so important to you right now,” you mumble, having your partner laugh airly– just as if all his worries escaped through the window and you fixed his life with a few drawings plastered on your wall.
“Those, dear Y/N,” he points towards the papers stuck to your walls, eyeing the specific one he worked for 3 hours on and kind of mourned the morning after he realized he threw it away, months of practice and art that maybe wasn’t even that bad in the first place ending up in the trash because of a fit of rage, “are all mine. Mine as in, I drew them… And then threw them out in the middle of a slight mental breakdown.”
You look at him for a few heartbeats, eye contact never breaking before you avert your gaze towards the artwork on the walls– it takes you a few seconds before it hits you– and you gasp, hurriedly looking back at the artist in front of you, stars glimmering in your eyes now as well, matching his excitement. “Oh my god, are you for real?”
“Yeah.”
“You drew all of these?”
“Yeah,” he nods again, breathless.
“This is an insane coincidence,” you snicker, and Renjun didn’t know he had it in him– maybe it’s still the effect of alcohol that slips off his tongue when he speaks– but he cages you in his arms as he kisses you again, a whole new world appearing in front of him when the cheesiness meets the comfort of your walls.
“You’d call this a coincidence?” he hums. “Maybe it was fate.”
Earning himself a sharp laugh, almost mocking him as you swat his shoulder, you fall back with him towards the mattress, and while the heated moment might be gone, you don’t mind at all. Renjun looks at you with a certain softness in his eyes, a pride swelling in his chest, and for a moment, it’s true and you truly did open up a new reality for him and changed his life forever, fixed all of his problems, if you will, because the appreciation it takes for a girl to tape up at least 20 of his messy artworks onto her wall after finding the stash in the trashcan on her way to class might just be the encouragement he needed to keep going with the craft. 
It’s hard to believe that this shitty party actually brought him somewhere– not only to your bed, but also to your life, to a beginning of something new and a restart in something he thought he’d forever be giving up on.
“So… Do you need those back? Because I kinda like them here,” you giggle, and the crinkle of his eyes is enough of an answer to you.
“You can keep them. I’ll just draw new ones you can look at,” he muses, stealing another kiss from you and squeezing your hip, having you squeal against his mouth.
“Now, to get back to what we were doing before–”
900 notes · View notes
jennas-stuffs · 9 months
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our little secret: mission impossible
TW: unprotected sex, piv, fingering, hickey-making, nipple-sucking, brief head (fem receiving), fluff, fem reader.
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authors note: this is my first time writing smut so i’m definitely open to tips and constructive criticism 😭
i can’t believe i’m saying this but im actually excited about a college class this year. i’ve always loved criminology, i watched basically every tv series there is containing it growing up. so it’s safe to say i didn’t hate the actual subject my last three years, i just hated the professor. ok sure i doze off every now and then but i know my stuff. it’s just that, he doesn’t believe i do. just because he’s some super genius only a year older than me and already teaching people doesn’t mean that he gets to be the only smart one. enough about him because my complaints have finally been heard and the administration finally finally let me switch classes. i can finally be rid of him. i walk into class with my head up high only to find my posture slump down and my smile fade into a frown.
“hello again y/n, you didn’t think you would get rid of me that easily huh?”
what the actual fuck. what the fuck happened.
“i thought i was switching classes.” i say with my jaw shut tight
“i promised the admins that they wouldn’t have to do all that because i would make it work. also it doesn’t look too good for me when one of my students transfers out my class because we were having ‘altercations.’
the sound of every word out of his mouth is almost identical to the sound of nails on a chalkboard. i nod so he can shut up and angrily stomp to a seat. out of spite, i nap my way through his class and to my surprise i wake up to the sound of the bell signaling my next class. i wake up confused, “why didn’t he wake me up? he always does, he loves disturbing my beauty sleep.” i shake it off and pick up the class paperwork i’ll have to make up along with my homework. a week passes by with undisturbed sleep, this is just getting weird. maybe this is what he meant by making it work. if it is, i’ll have to stay i expected more from him. hes so professional and strict, as would anyone expect coming from an ex-fbi agent. i mean this guy literally saw people die in front of him, and didn’t one of the serial killers set him up to be put in jail? what does he think he’s doing letting me sleep in his class? i should confront him. if he wants me in his class, he’s gonna have to earn it. he thought he could have the easy way out with me, oh no no no. i make a plan to set an appointment with him at the end of the day.
his office is neat and organized like i expected. too bad his freakishly tidy desk is gonna get a glimpse of this sleep deprived, angsty, college student.
we sit down and he quickly releases an exhale.
“so i’m assuming this meeting is about our non-existent altercations, because your grades are great, y/n. i haven’t started a feud just yet so what’s going on?”
i stand up rapidly, pushing my seat backwards. i slam my hand on his desk, leaving a mark on his papers, not like i care though.
“good job figuring that one out professor genius. so listen up. if you think just letting me sleep thorough your class is gonna prevent me from complaining to the admins again, think again. you probably think this is the easy way out so you don’t have to actually work it out with me well guess what. that’s extremely unprofessional. and in all honesty i expected more from you. im disappointed, professor reid. i guess your retired days from the fbi really tore you down huh? you don’t have that same spark in you- you”
“i know about your nightmares y/n.”
“what?”
“i’m retired from the fbi, correct. from the behavioral analysis unit. i can still profile people you know. from what i’ve noticed, you barley get any sleep and run on coffee. the work you miss in class you use as an excuse to stay up late at night to procrastinate on the sleep you know will wake you up in cold sweat the next morning. the only good sleep you seem to get, is the one in my class. see, i used to mind the fact that you were just sleeping though my lectures but it’s never interfered with your grade. so, i figured since it’s your last year of college and all i would allow my period to be your nap time.”
i sit down shamefully and shrink in my seat. i’m so embarrassed. he was just trying to help me and i snapped at him. i feel like an idiot.
“im so sorry. and thank you. thank you so much.”
one more word and i’ll burst out crying. i quickly pick up my bag and head for the door. but my wrist is grabbed by a warm hand.
“wait, y/n?”
i turn around to meet his eyes and pray he doesn’t notice the extra liquid in them.
i clear my throat, “yes professor reid?”
my wrist hasn’t been released yet.
“are you getting help for the- you know.”
“um i used to when i was little and it helped and they went away, but it came back.”
“when?”
“since i started college.”
“can you sit back down please, i just want to talk.”
here he is being so helpful and i’ve been hating him this whole time. when he wasn’t worried for my grades, he was worried for my sleep, and when he isn’t worried for my sleep, he’s worried for my mental health. i feel like such a petty bitch.
my wrist is released and we sit down.
we talk for hours and hours and he tells me stories of when he was an agent. i’ve never laughed so much in my life. we trade in our top worst and best moments in our lives when he realizes…
“wait so, sorry, if this is crossing a line and feel free to not answer but you’ve had boyfriends. but you’ve never had sex?”
“yeahh that’s accurate. it’s just everytime i think about someone seeing me naked i just get tense, like, just the thought of it makes me squirm.”
“so you have body image issues?”
“woww way to be slick with that one profiler, but sure, i guess.”
he laughs. and this laugh was different from all the other ones because it was this laugh i realized i don’t hate his voice anymore. it actually sounds, nice.
“so you’re telling me you’ve tried everything, all your therapists have given you medication and nothing really stuck?”
“i’m a lost cause doc.”
“don’t say that.”
“you know you haven’t tried everything.”
“sex makes me barf. no way.”
“hey a pretty girl like you can easily find some college guy to mess around with. don’t be so closed minded y/n.”
“mhm because you’ve had so much experience.”
his face goes pink.
“how did you know?”
“what? no i was kidding. wait. you’ve never had sex either? YOU HYPOCRITE!”
“it’s much easier said than done.”
“hey, a handsome guy like yourself can easily find some girl to mess around with. don’t be so closed minded professor.”
“spencer”
“what?”
“in my office, you can call me spencer”
“okay, spencer, how about we make a deal.”
“what kind of deal?” he says with a raised eyebrow
“the first to have sex is the better person because they are not a hypocrite.”
“that sounds like mission impossible but. ok. fine. deal.”
“REALLY? i was just joking but OKAY DEAL.”
we shake hands and i go back to my dorm and sleep. i slept, better, that night.
we check in with each other everyday to see if the other person won yet.
“has mission impossible been completed professor?”
“nope. what about you y/n?”
“nope.”
that’s not all we did, though. we went out to cafes to talk about life and how us virgins are channeling that sex energy into some other thing. seeing professor reid, i mean spencer, outside of school was weird. all of sudden his eyes were easier to look into. i just couldnt get enough of them. it was like i was drowning in them. don’t get me started on that voice paired with that cute face. i could just snuggle myself up into each word that came out of his mouth. but we had that same check up conversation everyday after class for a whole month until…
“hey y/n?”
“yeah?”
“are you free by the end of the day i wanna talk to you in my office”
“what happened to meeting up at the cafe? wait. did i miss an assignment? i’m so sorry i’ll make it up i swear.”
he smiles and laughs. that beautiful laugh. “no no i just wanna talk in a more private setting. you know how people can eavesdrop in cafes.”
“oh yeah sure i’ll see you then.”
“see you.”
WHY DID I SAY SURE? WHAT THE HELL IS WRONG WITH ME. THAT WHOLE REASON WHY I NEEDED US TO BE IN A CAFE WAS BECAUSE IT WAS PUBLIC. i can’t help myself when i see him. i know it’s wrong because he’s my teacher but he’s just a year older? i’m trying to justify these feelings for him but i can’t. i can’t help it. he’s so nice to me and i don’t deserve it, i just wanna repay him. no,nonononono. i can’t. not in that way. i have a meeting with him and it’s in his office so it’s strictly professional.
“hey y/n”
“hi professor”
he raises an eyebrow.
“hi spencerr, ” i say as i roll my eyes.
“ok good so uh.”
he pulls his chair and adjusts mine so that we’re sitting face to face, with no desk in the middle. god, this is gonna be a long meeting for me.
“i think we’re gonna have to switch your class”
“what?! why! we just started getting along don’t ruin it now!”
truthfully, i wouldn’t mind. all this tension i felt would definitely tone down if i didn’t see him so much. but i wanna see him, i love the butterflies he give me. it’s just so annoying i can’t do anything to ‘relieve’ them.
“well we’re just too friendly now, there’s barley any teacher-student boundaries.”
“are you serious. YOU’RE THAT ONE THAT INSISTS I CALL YOU BY YOUR FIRST NAME.”
he smiles “it’s not only that”
“you’ve chewed up my heart by making me switch classes, so, spit it out.”
“i think i like you.”
my heart feels like it’s gonna pop out of my chest, my pussy throbes and my stomach get butterflies. i get this overwhelming feeling of kissing him. but i can’t. we can’t. we shouldn’t. i look to the door and i look back at him. i stand up and walk up to the door, and lock it. i close the blinds and look at him.
“i like you too spencer.”
he grabs me by the waist and pins me to the door. we’re half a centimeter away from each others lips. looking at each others eyes and looking back down at each others lips.
“we shouldn’t.”
he nods, “we shouldn’t”
we slam each others lips against each other, making me let out the dirtiest of moans. he looks down on me and watches me unfold underneath him.
“you’re just a hot mess for me hm?”
i whimper and notice the throbbing feeling in my pussy intensify. it’s a hot steamy make out scene in his pretty little office, and i wonder how badly we can mess it up.
“spencer?” i gasp, barley having enough breath between kisses.
“fuck. say my name again please y/n.”
i moan, “spencer”
“again baby”
i cry out “spencer”
he says in his sweet voice “yes y/n?”
“fuck me.” i say in a whimper
and with those two words he kicks off his shoes and kisses me again. i mirror him taking off his clothes, working is way down, and up. once we’re both completely stripped he takes a second to look me up and down.
“you’re beautiful. all this time you’ve been hiding this?”
he bends his knees in front of me and kisses my breasts. i giggle at the feeling it gives me, similar to a tickle. he is just so sweet it melts me. while making out we move to his desk, where he pushes all his papers to the floor. he lays me down and my skin winces at the coldness of the wood. he’s sucks on my top lip, bottom lip, my jawline, my neck, my collarbone, making his way down to my nipples. i whimper, feeling his tongue go around in circles. i let out a loud moan, almost a scream, and notice the sudden arch my back went into when he starts to suck. he plans to leave every intimate place on my body with a hickey.
“you wanna leave marks on me spencer?”
he nods, making his way to the other nipple.
it’s just the sound of my whining and his sucking in his office, he breaks the silence for a second.
“i wanna show everyone you’re mine.”
then immediately goes back to sucking.
“my neck shows that enough-mm- spencer.”
“spencer… ohh spencer”
“yes y/n”
“feel me.”
that seems to have gotten him to stop sucking and he sticks to fingers up my throbbing pussy. i whimper at the motion.
“so wet, all of this for me?”
“mhm all for you”
he moves his fingers up and down, making me become a moaning, whining, whimpering, ‘hot’, mess again.
“spencer?”
“yes baby”
“i need you inside me.”
he looks down on me and suddenly the innocent light in his eyes disappear, witnessing a dark cloudy haze rolling in, covering his eyes.
“oh yeah?”
too far deep in the storm that is his eyes to speak, i simply nod. plus, that “oh yeah?” left me FOLDED.
he leaves a trail of kisses on my inner thighs, making me squirm. i feel the heat on his breath when he sticks out his tongue and sucks my core. he sits up and holds his dick, moving the the tip up and down against my folds.
“damn it spencer,” sounding like a whining brat, “stick it in already.”
he slams it in, thrusting forcefully, but slowly.
“faster.”
“yes baby”
i moan, grabbing his hair for support while my back arches even more, begging for more.
he speeds up, faster and faster, filling the office with the sound of unholy clicking, and not the type of clicking that comes from a clock. wet clicking.
i keep moaning his name…
“spencer, spencer, spencer?, oh fuck spencer, yes, please, fuck, fuck, spencer, i’m gonna cum im gonna cum, spencer.”
my head jolts back as he rails me through my orgasm.
now we’re laying on top of each other on his, now, filthy desk, covered in our cum and sweat. as we catch our breath i say unconsciously out loud,
“oh shit.”
i feel his laugh vibrating from his chest to mine.
“no, spencer, this is bad.”
“why?”
i sit up now realizing the mistake i made. he mirrors my action with a concerned expression.
“isn’t there some kind of rule in the university’s handbook that forbids students from having sexual relations with their teachers? i mean that’s considering that an average professor would be much older than them, usually it would be illegal anyways. do you think they would make some sort of exception? wait, do you think we’d have to tell them? will i get suspended? will you loose your job? oh my god, ok. so what if… what?”
he keeps staring at me rambling with a goofy smile plastered on his face that’s suppressing a laugh.
“whattt?”
“you know no one has to know about this, right?”
“but what if someone finds out?”
“y/n, what time did i have you come meet me in this office?”
“7pm”
“mhm.”
my eyes widen at the realization.
“ok so you made me come over when you knew the office would be closed just so you could confess your feelings to me, in your office, when the building was closed and everyone went back home?”
“yeah.”
“you know you could’ve just invited me over to your place. you didn’t have to make it so complicated.”
“well our situation is complicated, and if we want to continue to explore this ‘situation,’ we’re gonna have to be sneaky.”
i feel my face heating up.
“soo your likee my secret loverrrr”
he cracks a smile.
“i guess this’ll be our little secret.”
after we get back in our clothes and walk out together to our cars, he turns to me and says,
“hey y/n, have you completed mission impossible?”
“yup, what about you?”
“yeah, same.”
😱😱😱 THE END 😱😱😱
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bingoboingobongo · 1 year
Text
task force 141 + last minute christmas shopping
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Characters: Simon "Ghost" Riley, John "Soap" MacTavish, Kyle "Gaz" Garrick, John Price, Alejandro Vargas, Rodolfo "Rudy" Parra
Warnings: none
A/N: my sister won't stop making fun of my old facebook posts help
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simon "ghost" riley:
alright let's be fr under normal circumstances ghost would never have to do last-minute christmas shopping
he's simply too prepared for that
like he's coming up with lists in october, buying gifts in november, and has them wrapped early december
but for the sake of story let's just say that he has some last minute shopping to do for whatever reason
maybe all his gifts got blown up and he has amnesia so he can't remember anything
jk idk just pretend he's been busy or something
anyways
ghost always has a good idea of what he wants to get people for christmas
so the problem is rarely what to buy but where to buy it
usually he'll go to a plaza that has a bunch of shops so he can just visit each one and see if they have it
another nice thing about ghost is that his sheer size and signature death glare makes it so that he never has to fight with another person to get a gift
he's definitely traumatized more than a few shoppers who tried to grab the same thing as him
somehow though he manages to get everything on his list
even if it takes him all day to find it
john "soap" mactavish:
alright so let's be real pretty much all of soap's christmas shopping is done last minute
he's a procrastinator what can i say
however after years of last minute panic soap has mastered how to get all his shopping done last minute
a few days before christmas he'll wake up early and then head to the mall
and pretty much just methodically work his way through each store until he finds something good for everyone
after he always rewards himself with a soft pretzel and gelato
it's a weird combo he knows but it's what he always bought at the mall as a kid and it brings him back
now soap doesn't necessarily have the intimidation powers of soap but he makes up for it by being ready to throw hands over gifts
besides it's not really like he has a backup plan
so because of this soap's gifts usually end up being those useful knick knacks that you always need but never remember to get
like can openers
he got everyone can openers one year
im kidding (or am i?)
kyle "gaz" garrick:
alright so if gaz has to go last minute shopping it's usually only for small things
like extra stocking stuffers, wrapping paper, tape, etc.
so thankfully there's usually not much riding on it so it's less stressful
gaz actually really enjoys shopping because he can pop in his earbuds, turn up his music, and just unwind for a bit as he walks through the aisles
off topic but he's definitely the guy to just wander around a target listening to music
he'll usually just make the trips as he needs to
but they're usually just to walmart or target so he can stock up on candy and supplies
he also likes getting some of those fancy ghirardelli chocolates to snack on while he wraps gifts
his parents raised him to be polite so if he does end up reaching for the same thing as another person he always lets them grab it
but if it's the last item in stock he definitely gets secretly annoyed at them for it
john price:
alright so in a weird way i feel like price is sorta like the grinch
not in a "i hate christmas" sorta way but an "i don't want to go into town" kinda way
he likes to spend his christmases in his cabin/on base and he doesn't like dealing with the rush of customers doing last minute shopping
but of course there comes times where he has no choice but to run to the store to get another gift or restock on wrapping paper
and during then price is on a mission to get in and out of there as fast as possible
mainly because one year he got stuck in line behind a total karen
and his ten minute trip turned into an hour long ordeal
so now to reduce the chances of that happening he tries to speedrun his shopping trips
that being said he is a gentleman at heart so if someone grabs the same item as him he'll let them have it
even though he'll secretly be annoyed at them because then he has to stay even longer to find another gift
alejandro vargas:
alright so honestly i feel like alejandro is like ghost in that he tries not to get stuck doing last minute christmas shopping
he just doesn't like all the crowds and the lines
i mean he's not the most patient man in the world so it makes sense
he usually tries to keep his last minute gift buying to a minimum but if he does need to buy stuff he'll usually go to one store and get everyone things from there
think like home depot/a hardware store or maybe like a bath and body works
(they have a surprising amount of men's stuff okay)
that being said he usually knows what he wants to get each person from those stores
so if he comes to a point where him and someone else are reaching for the same thing he can sometimes get confrontational
it just depends tho
bc on one hand the gentleman in him is saying to let them have it but on the other hand he wants to get his friends a good gift
usually though he'll end up giving it up if it's like a woman or child
but with men he'll usually try to fight for it if it's really getting heated
rodolfo "rudy" parra:
alright so poor rudy would be so stressed by last minute shopping
i think he probably got a lot of his stuff done early but he wanted some extra things because he was worried his gifts weren't good enough
i feel like rudy's the kinda guy who goes really last minute and so a lot of things are going out of stock quickly
and so he is super duper stressed
mans is biting his nails and everything
definitely is racing throughout the stores to try and find everything he needs
and he simply will not be in a situation where someone grabs the same thing as him because if he sees someone in the same aisle as him he is sprinting and grabbing that thing asap
he really doesn't want to have to fight with someone else over it
especially before he knows he'd end up giving it to them
what can i say it's how he was raised
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maddipoof · 1 year
Note
CONGRATS DELLA!!!! IM SO SUPER DUPER PROUD OF YOU <3
🌷 I was wondering if I could have a fluff blurb with Eddie? I struggle with anxiety and things being too much for me, so I was thinking Eddie comforting reader who is overwhelmed with school and life. Maybe a prompt could be, "c'mon...let's take a break and come back to this when we're ready."
This is usually something I do to stop my thoughts from running wild and stressing out...hopefully this is helpful, but please let me know if it's too complicated and I could totally do somethng more simple!!!
congrats again, della!!! 💘🌸🌟
Thank you 🥰🥰😚
It’s not too complicated, it’s lovely 💕(not proof read 😬)
You’ve been looking at this one page for an hour and a half, trying to sit down and get it done, but your brain didn’t seem to get the memo this was work time, not intrusive thoughts time. You think you have to be shaking with all the thoughts running around your body, a discordant orchestra of anxieties in a thunderstorm taking over your mind. You try to tell yourself you’ll be fine, it’s only one grade, your teachers like you well enough, they can be understanding. Not if they don’t like you as much as you thought they did, if this is the one time Mrs. Donner decides against partial cred—
A rapid knock in your window pulled your mind from your thoughts but the smile through the glass calmed you instantly.
“Hey sweetheart, let me in will ya? ‘S freezing out here.” You stood in front of him and pretended to contemplate it for a second, but how could you not give in to that face? It took two big pushes since the ice practically sealed it shut but as soon as there was enough space for him to get through, he ducked under and took your face in both hands. “Mornin’ sweetheart,” he mumbled against your lips and you pulled back, taking him with you since the open window was bringing in all the cold. He slid it shut and locked it then shot you a concerned look.
“Morning? Ed, it’s like 10 o’clock.”
“Baby it's 3:30, why're you still up?" He tossed himself onto your bed, still made from that morning.
"I was just–" you vaguely gestured to your desk, littered with papers. "Doesn't matter, why are you still up? Shouldn't you be home?"
"Wow, that's one way to treat a guest.”
“No–I just mean how did you get here. If it is 3, which I doubt, what are you doing here.”
"Well first of all," he picked up your alarm clock and shook it at you as much as he could with it still attached to the wall, the flashing 3:47 taunting you. "And second, I was coming home from the hideout and thought I'd take a shortcut. Then I saw your light was still on." and I was worried about you.
"Edda," it started as a joke, he always joked with you about how many times you'd call him over then immediately forget what you were going to say, so it always ended up 'Ed-uhhh' Sweetheart, you call me that so much it might as well be my name. "We're nowhere near the hideout."
"I know but I wanted to check up on you. What are you doing up?"
Your essay, fuck– your essay. "Uh, nothing, don't– don't worry about it, I'm fine. Just some school work." You rushed to sit back at your desk and started rereading to where you left off. "Don't uh– You can stay just..." you trailed off and started scribbling again. The final draft was due tomorrow and you've never turned in anything less than an 85, but that was a one off circumstance. You still had 4 hours to get it done, so close to the finish line, just this one transition sentence needs to start cooperating. If only you'd stop procrastinating... well can it really be procrastinating if it's your math set and your science lab, all due the day after but you hardly have any time at all tomorrow and, and, and...
"—Hey, you still in there, baby?" You blinked as you came back to yourself. "Hey, sweetheart." Eddie was crouched next to your seat, a hand on the back of your chair and one over your knee. He must have taken his jacket and boots off while you weren't paying attention.
"Sor–sorry, I'll uh..." you turned back to the page and reached for your pen but he reached across you for your hand before you could.
He shook his head and rubbed his thumb back and forth over the back of your hand. "C'mon," he nodded back towards your bed, "let's take a break and come back to this when we're ready."
"But it's–"
"I know what it is, and I know it's great, and I know we're gonna talk to Kelley tomorrow and figure it out." He stood up now, but leaning over you now. "Yeah?"
"Ok, but–"
"Enough with the buts, no buts. Except yours, in that bed." He smiled on one side at his own lame joke.
"That was so bad." He smiled even bigger when you stood up and let him put his arms around your waist.
"Mmm, but you love it."
"I'm not sure about that, but I love you so that'll just have to suffice."
"Suffice, it does. Your bed, m'lady."
"Thank you, kind sir." He pulled the covers down for you and gave you a look when you didn't get in. "Stay over?"
"Your dad'll kill me."
"So? You're like a cat, you've got 9 lives."
"A cat? How?"
"You're very cat like. A lil stray," you pouted and slid your hand down a curl framing his face, then lightly tugged the end. "My lil stray."
That didn't seem to convince him any further, "Stay, we have warm milk? Please?"
"Quit it with the cat jokes and I will."
"Yay!"
He slid in behind you and nudged your shoulder with his cold nose then a warm kiss. You laid in silence for a few minutes, he stopped his restless movements and when you were certain he was asleep, "meow."
He was not asleep and the way he said your name sounded like a threat to leave he'd never make good on.
"Shhh, shhh, sorry, sorry," you giggled and he laid back down beside you.
"Good night," he said with joking firmness.
"Goodnight....my kitten."
And he purred, this boy purred, freakishly realistic too.
He felt your laugh more than he heard it with the way you were pressed up against him.
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wewontdieunbloomed · 1 year
Text
this is part two of unlearning the bad things i unconsciously learnt from last year.
part one was the negative default pessimism i fall in to, which i keep calling it me being emo which means i dwell in my “misery” for far too long, instead of trying to think of something positive to get myself moving out of the bad zone i am in. as we are often told, sadness and negativity gets comforting, it feels like you are protecting yourself. but one cannot see beauty in life and find joy for oneself if one does not make oneself vulnerable.
and so making myself vulnerable is what ive been doing. trying to romanticise this state that im in, a liminal space, at crossroads. its not the most ideal, too many things are unknown and for the first time in my life im dealing with having barely any structure to my days, with nothing to do yet so much i should do.
it took me quite a while to stop lamenting this unknown and start returning to the foundations i built this blog and my entire philosophy off, the whole concept of “lest we die unbloomed” of making sure i dont realise one day ive wasted my time. and in small parts i like to think ive made progress on that
the focus now is the second part. i lost a lot of my attention span and impulse control, and today i reached a horrible point where i am sitting on the kitchen floor at 9 with no dinner, having ruined my microwave dinner out of a lack of common sense. i am not sure if all this recent muddling is because of covid brain fog or the horrifying amount of screen time i have had recently, but i was so sick of it. i have done a lot of things on impulse recently, and though today i had a really fulfilling day spending time with people i havent in a long time, when i got home and im back to reality of the things i havent done and been procrastinating for too long on, i felt horrible. this need to change, i realised.
so this is part two. it calls back to one of the values i set as something important to myself, being honest with myself. i know what im doing now is not working. i know that even though i use my planner im not sticking to it. i know my todo lists are not helping me. then why do i stubbornly stick to methods i know dont work? i told myself a year ago i would not change my system if it doesnt need to be changed. i have forgotten that i need to change it when it does. how silly! so im changing.
so in the last 2 hours in order to get myself up ive written todo lists on paper instead of in my journal. used a timer for every single step from shower to sweeping the floor to brushing my teeth. enough lazing around and letting simple things occupy too much time. its a parkinsons law thing.
enough doomscrolling and opening instagram when i have nothing to do. im setting a limit for a block of time in the day where i am not allowed to use social media, pwrhaps not any internet at all. i need to make drastic change, even if it seems inconsequential. it might not be academic but its personal. and my personal life and what i want to do with my time is worth taking big measures for, because it should be more important than all that revision for exams i used to do.
so the point f this ramble is to clear things out with myself. make some sense of whats goijg on. have a direction. tomorrow i have an interview. ill come home and do the chores i have to. prepare for my afternoon activity. go for lunch and my afternoon appointment. go for a run. buy dinner. write my applications. research on uni stuff. read a book. and all the other tint things i need to give more importance to even though they seem inconsequential. it sa new mantra ive gotten into ever since part one of this. that “this is the way” this is the new way. enough lazing. its time to go hard and be rurhless. take things up a notch because when else can i do it? go big from experiences to measures i have to take to discipline myself. this is the way.
04.04.2023
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shytastemakerthing · 1 year
Note
can i have a romantic twst match up, im an esfj, pisces, i use any prns, im not smart nor am i physically well(as in athletic well) I’m more into arts such as literature, music, drawing, etc, im easy to get along with ambivert, has a lot of hobbies i can keep up with, i usually keep things to myself solely bc i dont wanna bother ppl that much, i rarely ask for help cause i want to feel independent, procrastinates a lot, average grades, i dont put effort on things that i deem as pointless only doing decently at it, im always seem to be on my imagination solely bc i have a lot of ideas in mind i just dont have any motivation to do any of em! and may or may develop some bad habits due to obsession! (i hope this is good enough!)
A/N: Thank you so much for your request, I hope that you like it! I'm sorry this took a little longer to get out, I've had recital practice for the last week and a half and tonight is opening night!😊😊
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I match you with.......
Ruggie Bucchi
• Now, there are a number of reasons as to why I chose this beloved hyena man and I will try to touch base on most of then here so bare with me here😊.
• For starters, he wouldn't want you to keep anything to yourself, no matter what it was. Bottling things in and never trying to seek for help can only make things worse in the long run. Ruggie is so used to helping others and doing work (looking at you Leona), that he WILL want to help you any way that he can.
• That being said, if you truly do not wish to talk about it, he will not force you nor will he use his unique magic against you to tell him what is wrong. What he WILL do, is take you back to his room in Savanaclaw, and he dies have a habit of letting you wear his clothes, and he (if there is no work to be done), will lay down with you. If he does have to work, then he will still take tou there, but makes sure you have food and water, and anything else that may help before he leaves. He will be sending you messages throughout the day, though, just so you know he's thinking about you.
• For him to leave you in such a place as his room, shows that he trusts you a great amount, something that doesn't come easily to him. You're very important to him.
• He gets the feeling on being independent. After all, he had to learn from a very young age to take care of himself and then to take care of others. While you are fiercely independent, he makes it very well known that you can ALWAYS go to him if you need anything. He is there. Perhaps he will even bring you a meal so you don't have to travel where you are to get something. Another way he shows how much he loves you, he shares his food with you. If you know his background, you know just how important that is for him.
• He admires you talent and ability for art, especially your drawings. Though, the first thing on his mind was that you can easily do commissions and make some money from them. A lot of things his mind goes to is circled around money, again, with his background, it makes sense. But if you draw anything for this hyena, it's become his most prized possession and no amount of money can be given to him for it to be given up.
• Ruggie is an active boy. Between all the running around on his numerous jobs, back home, P.E, running errands for Leona. The boy has great cardio. Knowing your own athletic state, he at least tries to help you out. Nothing to severe, maybe going on a walk with him to Sam's shop. Something simple, easy, but still exercise. He greatly cares about your health.
• He is a great motivator! Yes, you may not want to write that paper, do that assignment, or any other task, but he is there with you through the whole thing. He is not above bribery either. Kinda like, if you can finish this assignment then I'll find a way to get you that art kit you really like, or, say you're working on a task, as soon as we are done, I promise that we can cuddle in bed for the rest of the day. We won't have to do anything at all. He just wants to see you do your best. He comes from a place where no one js really given that opportunity. He was lucky enough to make it to NRC. He's going to make sure both of you pass cone hell or high water.
• Gifts are not the most common with him, the man is on a tight budget, especially especially he sends things back to his hometown as well. Though, if he wss out and about and happened to see a book or any form of literature on a discounted price, he will spare a few madols and get it for you. Seeing the smile on your face makes it all worth it in the end.
• Overall, he is one of your biggest supporters. He wants to see you thrive and do your best while also embracing the hobbies that you have. The hyena is smitten with you regardless. He just wants to see you happy, and to him, just seeing your smile is payment enough for him.
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jentlemahae · 1 year
Note
do you have any advice for self discipline? idk if you struggle with procrastination as well sometimes but you seem to be on top of your studies (i think in some of your tags you once mentioned that you finished all your assignments very early) i have very important exams coming up (if i fail them i'll have to repeat a whole year of school) and even though i know how important it is for me to study i just can't bring myself to even start.. i'm just paralyzed with fear bc i've already wasted so much time and it's impossible to catch up/revise everything now bc i'm running out of time. i think the sheer amount of material i have to study scares me off even more but the longer i wait the worse it gets obviously. i just hate that even though i am very aware of all this i just can't stop self sabotaging i hate myself so much 😭 another problem is that i'm such a perfectionist so if i know i can't do it perfectly i don't even bother but at this point i just need to pass bc i definitely don't want to repeat a year.. sorry this got so long and i know ultimately i just need to sit my ass down and study bc i'm the only one to blame (i had plenty of time to study these past weeks but i just rotted in my room 🙃) but you always are so sweet and insightful so i thought maybe you could give me some helpful advice? hope you have a nice day 💌
hiii! 🫶🏻 so i’ll preface this by saying that i’ve just always been used to having to do well in my studies so atp idek if it’s self discipline or more just a habit ? 🥲 but i also struggle with the same things sometimes bcs there are times where i put off studying certain things bcs im scared of failing TT so these are thing that imo help me!!
i always recommend ppl to repeat the stuff that u have to study/memorize out loud to someone bcs i think that helps u retain information, but i think that doing so by setting certain days to do so also helps in giving some organization! for instance i always repeat whatever im studying out loud to my mom (via zoom lol) and we do so by deciding to see each other on a certain day and on that day i have to repeat out loud to her a certain amount of chapters while she looks at my notes to check that im making sense. and we usually meet 2-3 times for that before my exam so first time i have to say half of the content, second time the other half, and third time i go through everything. does this make sense? and u can do it with whoever u want (parent, grandparent, friend, etc)! (tho tbh studying with a friend has never worked for me :p)
advice 2 sounds a bit odd and ik it doesn’t work for most but to me it works 🫠 when im in similar situations where i have So Much to study, first i read through all my notes* and then i take out a piece of paper and i write by hand** everything i remember. this way i see the main topics in the material and i go back to my notes and add some more important details to what ive written. this works especially well with courses where u just wanna pass and u don’t really care about the grade bcs this way u have a decent grasp on the main body of the course content! (**important to do this by hand bcs handwriting makes u retain info easier + *i always write summaries of the course content and the course progresses bcs then i know i’ll have my work cut out for me for the exam)
when u sit down to sit, put stuff that distracts u far away from where u are !! i kinda get distracted by listening to music lmao so when i study i make sure to put my headphones away from desk (lol), and then i hide my phone from my eyesight so then i can work for like an hour straight with no distractions 🤷🏻‍♀️
this is what comes to mind at the moment! anw best of luck for the exam !!! i know exams can be daunting when u are a perfectionist (😵‍💫) so i am rooting for u !!!!! 🥰💖🫂 as we say in italian, in bocca al lupo :)
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scover-va · 2 years
Note
YOUR ART IS SO COOL!! also i think if the haunted house au was an actual sjm mod sado's spawn area would be the prison from the hex where lazarus frees sado except you're in the first person pov of lazarus (except you're also not lazarus you're some guy who went into a mansion and now has to face the consequences. maybe instead of hitting the buttons with the gun like in the hex you hit them with the axe), and when you free sado and she disappears suddenly everything becomes dark. everyone in the cells disappears and a hallway that wasnt there before opens up back at the beginning and the lasers disappear (i feel like it would be much easier to explain what im talking about if i drew it but that would require making a hex sideblog so i can show you. and ive been procrastinating making a hex sideblog). i think sado's chase would be like a dark void behind her with eyes in it (like specimen 7's wall. except it wouldnt instakill if you touched it bc i think that would be unfair) and the walls during the chase would also be completely dark with eyes on them (also like specimen 7). i think sado would be able to go through walls quicker like specimen 8 also. idk how much damage she would deal yet or all the other specimen stat stuff they put on the sjm wiki but i hope my rambling isnt incomprehensible im going to go back and make sure theres no run on sentences so its actually readable -sjm anon
Okok finally answering this bc I gotta get over my fear of. Im not sure what it is but boy does it exist.
Aight first bc im gonna go in chronological-ish order with this: Ty!!! Gonna try to make more concept designs and shit this weekend, we'll see hehe. Gotta add a read more bc its long so. Yeah
Honestly?? I do like the concept of Sado having to be freed as a reference to vg2 in the actual au. Not to mention the horror aspect. Might serve as some sort of fun transition type thing. Maybe between FPP and Reggie/Jeremiah's thing?? Bc i DO have her whole thing planned out when it comes to the actual encounter, but also it might help solidify my plans with R+J. And yeah Lionel would DEF be facing the consequences of goin into the mansion so like. Smth smth poor wet paper towel of a man or whatever.
i DID have to google Specimens 7 + 8 despite rping an au of sjm with my gf, bc i COMPLETELY forget which specimen is which. And also I didnt see all their designs, so like. Yknow. Forgot the cat was surrounded by weird flesh walls tbh and I was VERY confused. I did recognize the 2 tho!! So I mean. I get brownie points for that, right? /j I also saw the game over thing for if Spec. 8 kills you, bc my gf sent it to me. That fucker reminds me of Bone Lord in a way I can't explain /pos
Also yeah i DO gotta figure out actual stats for these bitches huh. Might also ref. sjm for that bc my only ideas for stats would be like. Health and damage. Sooo yknow. Idk what the stats in sjm are but im assuming theres gotta be AT LEAST 1 or 2 more than that. I'd watch a playthrough but bc of that au my gf and i did i already know the important lore and shit, and i get bored VERY easily so. We'll see what happens. And personally playing it aint an option. I cant personally play horror games, im a coward.
Also dw sjm anon, i COMPLETELY understand the bit abt the ramble being comprehensible or not. I have gone on many rambles to my friends/gf that probably made 0 sense, but who cares bc im havin fun
Going back to a thing I mentioned earlier, I'll go over my R+J plans I figured out while rambling to my gf in a different post, bc I wanna make a proper post abt that. And also with the new Sado ideas I need to solidify some stuff first lmao
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tatakaebomb · 2 years
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Addicted
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ꕥ Pairing : prisoner!Sanzu x Reader
ꕥ Synopsis : Who thought it’s a good idea to leave a psychopathic murderer in a room alone with the warden?
ꕥ Word count : 2.3k
ꕥ A/N : [part 2] - with Mikey
ꕥ TW : choking, dacryphilia, non con, dub con, gun play, blackmail LMAO, cervix fucking (?), spitting in mouth, manipulation, brat sub!reader, mean dom!Sanzu, sadism, spanking, slight brainwashing, swearing, overstimulation, drug mention, character death (not anyone important), degrading, authoritarian sex, air restriction, death threats, mouth fucking (fingers), dumbification ig?, 18+
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You lean back in your chair, sighing as you stare at the massive stacks of paper on your desk. There is suppose to be new inmates coming in tomorrow, and you procrastinated looking through their files till the last day.
The door to your office swings open, and your coworker lets himself in without bothering to knock with a tense look on his face. You look up from the paper and raise an eyebrow.
"What is it?"
He fiddles with his hands, looking down at the chair in front of him.
"Miss Y/N, inmate 357 got into another fight, we believe the other inmate is...dead"
You narrow your eyes, inmate 357 also known as Sanzu Haruchiyo, a lunatic murderer with a very big ego on him, not to mention former most wanted gang member of Bonten.
He was a handful. To him , his life sentence only meant a waving green flag to act up as much as he could. Its not like he's getting out anytime soon.
He got transferred to your prison only a few months ago, and ever since it's been chaos every few days. Inmates feared him, hell, your own officers feared him.
"How the fuck does this happen?" You place the paper down on the desk, pushing back in your chair as your hair comes undone.
"We are still investigating the cause of the conflict miss, the other inmate got stabbed repeatedly in the-"
"Ugh, spare me the details - just bring him in"
The officer bows down nervously before making his way out of the office, stumbling on his feet.
Fucking incompetent, all of em.
They can't keep one inmate in check, and with every instance Sanzu came to your office, his ego just gets bigger. Even when you do sent officers to his cell, he demands he ll only "talk to the boss".
You sit and wait around till eventually a guard opens your door and brings him in handcuffed, scruffy pink hair falling on his face as he grins.
"Sanzu Haruchiyo" You declare, staring daggers at the man in front of you.
He takes a seat down in front of your desk, his bright blue eyes droopy as he gives back a snarky reply.
"Am i in trouble?" He makes his voice higher pitched, his mocking tone managing to piss you off instantly.
"I'm staring to think you enjoy being in my office, Haruchiyo"
You sit up in your chair and scan his features, the scars on his mouth twisting as he smirks and places his cuffed hands on your desk.
You tut and get out his file before crossing your arms as you read off the paper.
" 1st and 2nd degree murder, extortion, posession of weapons, assault, posession of dru-" You look up at him, his head hanging look as he starts faking a snore,
"CAN YOU TAKE THIS MORE SERIOUSLY? YOU JUST KILLED A MAN"  You exclaim, dropping your fist on the desk making him laugh at your anger.
He looks up at you and licks his lips, continuing to giggle as he rests lazily against the back of his chair.
"You've got lipstick on your teeth "
You subconsciously run your tongue over your teeth and look into his eyes, noticing his blown out pupils making you scoff as it finally clicks.
" Where'd you get the drugs from, Sanzu? "
He smirks and continues to stare down at you, his
gaze slightly intimidating you as he fiddles with his cuffs.
" I have the right to remain silent, anything i say may be used against me in a court of la- "
You stand up and lean down on the desk, getting up in his face,
"ONE MORE WORD AND I SWEAR I'LL THROW YOUR ASS IN SOLITARY CONFINEMENT, IM SICK OF YOU" You let out all your frustration in a loud yell, keeping eye contact with him.
You hear a small click from below but before you could look down, you feel him raise his hands to your face.One tightly around your neck, while one muffling your pathetic cries for help.
You look down at the desk as you struggle trying to break out of his grip, widening your eyes at the small key and cuffs that drop to the floor.
He shushes you grinning as he makes his way over to your side of the desk, bending you down over it before opening the small drawer to your left.
You freeze as you feel the cold barrel of your gun at the back of your head, your body shaking against the weight of his as he bends down on top of you.
"One wrong move and i'll shoot, you understand?"
He whispers in a low tone against your ear, making you shiver and let out small "mhm's" as you nod your head frantically.
He steps back while holding the gun to your head, lifting up your skirt and running his hand over your bare ass before giving it a slap, making you gasp.
"I like you better when you shut the fuck up "
He laughs, pushing your head further into the desk with the barrel of the gun.
"You won't get away with this" You spit out.
He switches hands in a split of a second, lowering the gun to your panties as he tangles his other hand in your hair, lifting you up to look at him.
"What are you gonna do bitch, throw me in the hole for a few days?" He sadistically smiles as you whine and look up at him through your watery eyes, moving your hips from side to side when you feel the barrel lightly tapping on your clit.
"Stop-" You choke out, your breath hitching as he starts moving the metal between your clothed lips. You fight back the urge to hold back moans.
"What is it warden?" You gasp out a quiet "fuck" as you feel him move your panties to the side, the cold air and metal finally meeting your bare cunt.
"Cat got your tongue?" He drops your head on the desk and kneels down behind you, spreading you open. He coos and slowly pushes the top of the gun past your lips, making you hold tightly on the edge of your desk.
"You sick fuck" You bite the inside of your cheek.
"You're dripping wet and you have the nerve to call me a sick fuck, fucking slut"
He lands a harsh blow to your ass before pushing the gun further into you, watching your cunt swallowing the metal as he thrusts in and out at a constant pace. You buck your hips back and fuck yourself back on it, allowing small moans to escape your lips.
A soft groan leaves his lips, lifting his eyebrows as he watches you desperately push your hips back against his hand.
An unwanted whine escapes your lips when you feel him take it out. You look behind you as he places it in his back pocket before grabbing your hips and flipping you over, your legs resting in the air as he pulls you closer to the edge and leans down, his face hovering over yours.
"Open" He places a finger in your mouth.
"Sanzu.."
You oblige, lolling out your tongue as you feel his clothed hard cock press against your entrence.
A trail of spit leaves his lips and drops down to your mouth as he wraps a hand around your neck, his eyes demanding you swallow.
"Take my cock out slut" His words make your face glow red, your cunt clenching around nothing.
He takes the gun from his back pocket and places it back to your head, finger neatly placed on the trigger.
"Hurry the fuck up" He tightens the grip on your neck and lifts you up, making a whine escape from your lips.
He smirks and watches you as you fumble with his fly, widening your eyes when you manage to to drop his pants down. His cock springs up, big tip flushed red and leaking precum.
You look up at him through your watery eyes and nod your head no, making him chuckle a groan as he pushes the whole of his length into you in one move. The air feels like it gets knocked out of your lungs as you feel the tip push against your cervix repeatedly as he starts moving, making you cuss out at the pain.
He raises a hand to your mouth and muffles you, smiling as he watches a tear roll down your cheek.
“Shh, be a good girl and take it for me mm?” He coos at you, making you grit your teeth and nod.
He thrusts into you relentlessly, a twisted smirk plastered on his face as he watches the fucked out expression on your face, the pain slowly turning into pleasure.
“Fuck..”
You moan into the palm of his hand as you feel him hit the spot inside you consistently making your legs shake, clenching down hard as you feel your orgasm nearing.
“‘Gonna.. cum” You mumble out.
“Such a good whore, cum on my cock for me” He groans, throwing his head back as his strokes become sloppier.
You roll your eyes back watching him, a series of curses mixed with his name leave your lips while coming undone making him let out a quiet moan as you grow tighter.
He curses out before driving his cock deep inside you one last time, letting spurts of cum fill you up before pulling out panting. He slips your panties back on, watching his cum slowly seep out into the material as you struggle to keep your legs still from the overstimulation.
He taps your cunt making you squirm and lifts you up, lowering your skirt before dropping the gun back on your desk.
He lifts his pants up and slowly walks back to his chair, making you sit back down and turn around, your hair messily falling on your flustered face.
“You ignore this charge, and i won’t mention to the cops how you came on a murderer’s cock”
He demands, and you lift an eyebrow as you continue to pant.
“Are you insane?”
“You’re the insane one, getting off on-“
“Okay, fine, just shut the fuck up and go back to your cell, don’t let me see your face here again”
You blurt out, tugging a piece of your hair behind your ear as you lift the gun from your desk, looking down at your own arousal staining the length of the barrel.
He laughs and sits up from his chair, pressing his wrists together looking down at the gun and back up at you.
“Pleasure doing business with you, warden”
Your face turns redder as you silently place the gun back into your drawer, standing up from your chair and bending down to grab the handcuffs and key. You gasp as you feel the cum slowly start running down your thigh, biting your lip when your eyes meet his.
You shakily try to put on the handcuffs.
“Your lipstick is smudged, Miss” He snickers as you twist the key before placing it on your desk.
“Fuck off, Haruchiyo ” You give him one last look before he leaves your office with a smirk.
“I’ll see you again soon” He mumbles before leaving the room.
You sigh and place your hands in your hair as you hear a guard approach him from the other side.
You stand up and go to the bathroom, wiping off the lipstick and cleaning up before washing your hands, coming back out to see the previous officer knocking on the door.
“Come in,”
“Miss Y/N, we found-“
“Is this about inmate Haruchiyo?”
You ask, raising your eyebrows.
“Y-yes” He stutters out, making you exhale as you place your hands on the desk.
“I want this current investigation dropped, do you understand?”
He raises his eyebrows confused,
“What shall we do then?”
“He’ll stay out of trouble this time”
The officer nods hesitantly before turning around and opening the door.
“I trust your judgement, i’ll let the rest know”
Next day
You stumble through the building, holding a big cup of coffee as you slowly twist open the door knob to your office. Your face drops walking past Sanzu who was snuggly sitting in the chair, a smirk plastered on his face as he turns to face you.
“What the fuck are you doing here again?”
“I fucked up again” He chuckles, and you let out an unimpressed sigh sitting down.
“Sanzu-“
“Im kidding, fuck , i’m here to request a cell change”
He points at the paper in front of you.
You raise an eyebrow,
“To?”
“Manjiro Sano”
“Absolutely not”
He stands up and grabs your chin gently, bringing your face up so you gaze into his blue eyes.
“ Think about it, Y/N ” He whispers, looking down at your lips and back up to your eyes. Your eyelashes flutter hearing your name leave his lips.
“ Nothing to think about, it’s a no”
He hums and slowly drops his hand down to your neck, squeezing it gently before leaning down into your ear,
“I’ll make you cum again, and again..”
Your lips part and you gather yourself as he lets go, sitting back down clenching your thighs together as you grab a pen and scribble down your signature.
He takes the paper and places a kiss on your forehead,
“Good girl”
He smirks leaving the room and shutting the door closed behind him.
Needless to say, he kept his promise and you slowly started bending the rules in his favour for your selfish needs, and before you knew it, you fell head over heels for Sanzu, growing addicted to his touch.
You needed him, and he needed you.
3K notes · View notes
keziahcore · 2 years
Text
𝐋𝐄𝐓𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐒 | 𝐝𝐫𝐮𝐢𝐠
𝗣𝗔𝗜𝗥𝗜𝗡𝗚: druig x gn!eternal!reader
𝗦𝗨𝗠𝗠𝗔𝗥𝗬: the reader and druig used to be in love, but everything had to break apart when the eternals separated at tenochtitlan, both druig and the reader going separate ways. but one day, while cleaning their house, the reader finds the letters druig used to write to them.
𝗞𝗘𝗭𝗜𝗔𝗛 𝗦𝗣𝗘𝗔𝗞𝗦: so this one is, sad. It even has a sad ending, and also, this is longer than most of my other fics. Feedback is always appreciated!
𝗪𝗔𝗥𝗡𝗜𝗡𝗚𝗦: a bit of fluff, but it is mostly angsty, with a sad ending- im sorry 😭
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I finally find the last box and set it onto the floor, making a huge sigh escape my lips in tiredness. I have been procrastinating on cleaning out the boxes in my cabinets and cupboards for weeks, and I finally found some motivation to do it.
The stuff in the boxes hasn't been touched in so long, and when I moved here I didn't bother to organise it. It's just random things which don't have any place in my organised cabinets, but I want to see what all stuff I have in here, and maybe try to decide to throw the useless junk away.
I rip off the brown duct tape which were keeping the flaps of the first box in place. I carefully lift aside all the four flaps to look at the contents in the box. It's just small souvenirs I have collected from my trip to Hawaii last year. It was a big trip; around 2 weeks and I brought a huge amount of stuff from there.
I inspect around the contents to see seashells, jewellery made from seashells, keychains, a few books, t-shirts, quilts, and even a ukulele. Ukuleles are extremely popular in Hawaii and I decided on buying one, even though I haven't played it even once.
Once I come to know this is all Hawaiin stuff, I set the first box aside. I pick up the second one, this one a medium sized one and not really heavy. I look around the cardboard of the box to see if I wrote anything on it, but there is nothing written. I pull the tape and look to notice envelopes sitting inside.
Confused, I pull out the first envelope. It's slightly yellow in color, the yellow becoming deeper on the edges. I open the flap and pull out the paper resting inside.
The paper is also yellow like the envelope, and it is also even crinkled. I smoothen out the wrinkles and read the black handwriting scrawled over the paper.
↶ೃ✧˚. ❃ ↷ ˊˎ-
My lovely,
Nothing seems to calm me down as much as your fingers softly running through my hair, ridding me of all the despairs in my heart. The way you intertwine your fingers with mine always makes butterflies erupt in my stomach.
I love how every morning you await with a basket full of fresh blueberries for me, and we both sit in the tree house munching on the sweet blueberries while attempting to delve into the deep secrets of the world.
Everyday I find myself falling more in love with you. It's an honor knowing you, and an even bigger one getting to call you mine. I hope to fall asleep every night with you in my arms.
Yours forever,
Druig
↶ೃ✧˚. ❃ ↷ ˊˎ-
Druig.
I read the name over and over again.
Over centuries ago me and him had a thing. Well, it was more than just 'a thing'. He used to feel like my everything. The perfect person to confide into whenever I feel troubled about things in life. The perfect person to spend my eternal life with.
But someone rightly said; 'all the good things are supposed to come to an end.'
And what we had also came to an end when all of us Eternals separated at Tenochtitlan.
When we separated, I was in my worst stage. The shoulder I used to rest my head on whenever I needed it wasn't there with me anymore. I didn't have anyone who could be by my side all the time. It all shook me deeply.
But slowly, I evolved. I grew. I learnt to be my own shoulder at the times of my despair. I learnt to wipe my own tears when I didn't have anyone to wipe those for me. I learnt to pick myself up whenever I fell down. I became independent, and I forgot about my past life as an Eternal, and what me and Druig had.
Until now.
I have the letters sitting in front of me - letters whose imprints I removed from my mind with deep struggle - and now everything comes back at the speed of light and the work and effort I put in the past years goes to waste.
↶ೃ✧˚. ❃ ↷ ˊˎ-
Babylon
I skip along my steps, the basket full of blueberries held by my hand firmly trying my best to not drop any one of them. I reach Druig's hut and softly knock against its door.
In a few seconds, a grinning Druig is standing in front of me. He intertwines his fingers with mine and with his other hand he picks a blueberry and pops it in his mouth.
"Hey!" I exclaim, pulling the basket back. "If you eat all of them now we won't have anything to eat at the tree house."
Druig shrugs. "I can't help it they are so sweet,"
I shake my head at him, and both of us continue to walk to the tree house. With the help of Phastos, me and Druig made the tree house together. It was hard, but the end product was pleasing enough.
We reach the tree house and climb into it. It's not really big, but it is big enough for me and Druig to fit in. We sit inside, the view of Babylon spread out in front of us. Druig begins to eat the blue berries from the basket, and so do I, as both of us sit in silence and look at the view in front of us.
I rest my head on Druig's shoulder, feeling him lean his head softly against mine, with our fingers perfectly laced amongst each other. I feel him squeeze my hand three times.
I love you.
↶ೃ✧˚. ❃ ↷ ˊˎ-
Isn't it funny how you think you have met that one person who will be there by your side no matter what? Who will love and support you always and always. But I never realised even the deepest, most intricately woven relationships also come to an end.
After we all separated, I wanted to run back to him. Being away from Druig was too much for me. It took me so long to evolve from the pain, and I hate to see myself unravelling right now just because I read a letter.
I peek into the box in front of me to see there are more letters in it. Should I read more, or should I not? I contemplate in my head. I decide to read one more, the damage has already been done.
I open another envelope and begin reading the words on it.
↶ೃ✧˚. ❃ ↷ ˊˎ-
My lovely,
Remember when Ikaris and Sersi got married? It was one of the most beautiful things you had ever seen. Seeing them vow to each other, both of them bound by love almost brought you on the verge of tears.
I want to promise you vows too, love, like they did. I just know you and me are two pieces from the same soul, and we will always be together, no matter what.
So, I, Druig, vow to always love you and be there with you through all of your ups and downs. I promise you an eternity of love and support. I promise you that we will never lose our spark and I will always do little things which make you smile.
You are my forever, and let's face it, I would be hella lost without you.
Yours forever,
Druig
↶ೃ✧˚. ❃ ↷ ˊˎ-
The crinkled letter begins to get crumpled in my hand as my fingers hinge closer to each other. Two smooth tear lines make their way down my cheeks, and I, full of pent up anger and sadness throw the crumpled up letter away from me.
How dare Druig promise me to love me for an eternity, when right now, we could be miles apart from each other, not even knowing about each other's whereabouts? That day, in Tenochtitlan, Druig went away. He didn't take me with him; he left me on my own.
There are nothing but lies in this letter.
He lied to me from the beginning. He never actually cared for me. And I was a fool to believe he actually wanted to provide me love for an eternity.
I was a fool to find myself knee deep in his "love".
I was a fool to even think me and him is a possibility, because it clearly isn't.
Tears and sobs continue to rip out of my dry throat, which continues on for some time before I find myself beginning to relax a bit. I wipe the tears from my face, and pick up the box of letters from the ground. I throw every single letter in that box into the bin, including the one which I crumpled up.
Because Druig doesn't have a place anymore in my life.
And he never will.
masterlist || join my taglist
TAGLIST: @gloryofroses19 ,, @awkwardfangirl2014
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chaeryybomb · 3 years
Text
BRUTAL
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pairings: female reader x best friend!jungwon
summary: they told you that these were the golden years, but to you "golden" was a rusting metal spray painted yellow. the story of a seventeen year old trying to survive high school when all you do is try your best. but your best friend jungwon makes it worth the while. 
genre: high school au, friends to lovers, fluff, tiny bits of angst if you squint, attempt at humour
featuring: jang wonyoung, kim sunoo & nishimura riki 
word count: 4.5k 
warnings: reader having a existential crisis most of the time, strong language, mentions of insecurity
the sour series masterlist
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You slumped forward the moment the bell rang, letting your head hit the table. You could care less if a bruise would form on your forehead, you had much bigger things to worry about. Your teacher left the class wordlessly as the class was busy doing their own thing. And by that, everyone was buried nose deep in studying. You lifted your head to see the different books of the same topic scattered on your desk, a yellow highlighter balancing on the edge of your table.
Reaching over to grab the highlighter, you turned your head over to the side to look at your desk mate. Wonyoung sat there looking straight out from a k-drama, with her hair flowing down her back perfectly and her slender nimble fingers moving as she continuously wrote in her notebook. She was smart too, fluent in English and Korean, great at maths and science. And on top of that she was kind and friendly, everyone loved her. You did too, you had the honour of calling her your best friend. But sometimes you felt insecure around her, everything she did looked flawless and there you were just trying your best.
"Ack!" You yelped as you sat up straight, holding your forehead. Wonyoung rolled her eyes at you with a small smile on her lips, she had flicked your forehead to get you out of your thoughts.
Without taking her eyes off the textbook, she tapped your own workbook with her pen. Silently telling you to stop procrastinating. You pouted at her and looked at the clock, 10 minutes before lunch. Maybe a walk to the girl's bathroom would do you some good.
"I'm gonna go to the bathroom," you whispered to Wonyoung. She nodded and smiled at you before you walked out.
As you strolled towards the girl's bathroom, you passed by the bulletin board outside your class. A bright blue poster stood out with the words "ENJOY YOUR YOUTH" in white. Scoffing at the message, you continued on your way.
"I'm seventeen now, where's my fucking teenage dream?" You muttered to yourself. You were tired of waiting for your life to end up like a coming of age movie. Everyone told you that these were the golden years and you should enjoy your youth, but you swear to god if you hear another one of those cheesy sayings, you might just cry on the spot.
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Reaching over to open the stall door, you halt in your actions when you heard familiar voices talking.
"I'm so worried for finals, my parents are gonna kill me if I fail English again," a girl complained. You hear the sound of tap water running. "How are you so calm during this time, Mirae?'
"What's the use of studying hard anyways," the second girl, Mirae, said. "We all know the top spots are gonna be taken by Jang Wonyoung and Yang Jungwon, I just study enough to pass."
The other girl snorted at her reply. "Imagine if those two got together, the power couple of the year," she suddenly said.
"Poor Y/N then, she's gonna be over shadowed by them."
"As if she already isn't. I almost forgot they were a trio until you mentioned Y/N," the girl laughed.
"What can I say? They're out of her league," Mirae joined in with her laughter.
The two voices faded away as you heard the door closed. Finally pushing the door open, you looked at your reflection. Your eyebrows knitted in annoyance and your face was morphed in a scowl. You washed your hands aggressively and poked the inside of your cheek. What bugged you was that they were right. You were the black sheep between Wonyoung and Jungwon. Both of them were smart and amazing, and you're just…you.
You love your best friends, you truly do. But you were constantly compared to them and you hated it. Everyone wanted them, you watched as guys tripped over to confess to Wonyoung and girls squealing when Jungwon smiled at them. The two of them always reassured you that you weren't beneath them but you were sick of their sympathy. You're so caught up in the news of who likes you and who hates them. You just wished people liked you more.
Storming out of the bathroom, someone accidentally ran into you and caused you to fell onto your butt. The student immediately stood up and scurried off, not bothering to even a mutter an apology. All I did was try my best and this is the thanks I get, you thought bitterly.
They said that these were the golden years, but you wished you could just disappear. God, it's brutal out here.
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"Y/N, wait up!" Jungwon called after you.
You stopped in your tracks as you watched Jungwon waved goodbye to some students before jogging towards you.
"You heading to cram school today?" He asked you as the both of you fell into the same walking rhythm.
You shook your head, clasping your hands behind. "I moved it to Thursday instead, Wonyoung said I had to many things on Tuesday," you told him. Originally, you would be heading to the library to study before heading over to the cram school. But Wonyoung took one look at your schedule and decided that you did not had enough breaks, so she managed to convince you to take the Thursday slot instead. Thursdays are one of the days where you would not go to the library.
Jungwon seemed to be disappointed to find out that you had switched slots. Maybe he should changed slots too, but does he have any empty spots open for Thursday though? He'd have to check later. Instead, he coughed and stuffed his hands into his pockets.
"Do you wanna come over later? The new Demon Slayer movie is out," he offered, hoping that you'd accept.
Unfortunately, you once again shook your head. "Sorry Jungwon, I'd want to cram even more later. Finals are really creeping in and I can't afford to waste any time," you told him with a sad smile. As much as you would like to ditch the books and watch Demon Slayer, the glaring C on your last history paper was telling you otherwise.
You stopped walking when you had reached your doorstep. "Thanks for walking me home, Jungwon. See you tomorrow!" and with that you disappeared behind the door.
Jungwon waved goodbye as he watched the door closed. The smile on his face dropped and his shoulder sagged. Jungwon you idiot, of course she would want to study, he scolded himself. With disappointment on his face, he trudged home with a heavy heart.
"Change of plans, guys," he announced as he swung the front door open, unfazed by the fact that Riki and Sunoo were lounging on his coach. He accepted the fact that Sunoo had somehow gotten the keys to his house (suspecting that his mother probably gave it to him due to favouritism or maybe Riki had sneakily made a copy).
Riki's head poked out from the couch. "She rejected you, didn't she," the younger boy said with a smirk.
Jungwon's face ears turned red as he glared at the boy. "No she did not!" He immediately told him. "She rejected the offer to watch the movie, that's different!"
"That's basically rejection, hyung," Riki laughed.
The other boy just glared at him. "Shut up!" he sputtered out before hiking up the stairs.
Sunoo gave Riki a look, to which the Japanese boy just shrugged his shoulders innocently.
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Jungwon walked out from the shower, a towel around his neck with one hand running through his damp hair. Sunoo and Riki had left earlier, finally giving him some peace and quiet. His phone screen was flashing from his study table, initiating that someone was spamming him (quite aggressively) with text message. With a raised eyebrow, he picked up his phone
[7:09 pm] wonyoung: JUNGWON
[7:09 pm] wonyoung: JUNGWON
[7:09 pm] wonyoung: JUNGWON
[7:10 pm] wonyoung: WHY DID Y/N JUST MESSAGED ME ABOUT HOMEWORK
[7:10 pm] wonyoung: ISNT SHE WITH YOU
[7:11 pm] wonyoung: I THOUGHT YOU SAID U WERE GONNA WATCH A MOVIE
[7:11 pm] wonyoung: DEMON HUNTER OR SMTG
[7:12 pm] wonyoung: WHY IS SHE ASKING ME FOR HW
[7:12 pm] wonyoung: DID U CHICKEN OUT???
[7:13 pm] wonyoung: omg u chickened out didnt u
[7:14 pm] jungwon: jfc wonyoung
[7:15 pm] jungwon: and no i did not chicken out okay
[7:15 pm] jungwon: she declined
[7:16 pm] jungwon: she said she had to study ;-;
[7:17 pm] wonyoung: omg u suck
[7:17 pm] wonyoung: i told u the movie idea was dumb
[7:18 pm] wonyoung: but do u ever listen to me
[7:18 pm] wonyoung: no
[7:19 pm] wonyoung: and now u suffer the consequences
[7:20 pm] jungwon: yea yea i get it im dumb
[7:20 pm] jungwon: now what's ur solution the great jang wonyoung
[7:21 pm] wonyoung: i am so glad u asked :)
[7:21 pm] jungwon: oh no
[7:21 pm] wonyoung: stfu im giving u a better idea
[7:22 pm] wonyoung: a n y w a y s
[7:22 pm] wonyoung: my ynradar is going off and she's s a d
[7:23 pm] jungwon: how would u know
[7:23 pm] jungwon: she seemed fine today
[7:23 pm] wonyoung: stfu jungwon its best friend things u wont understand
[7:24 pm] jungwon: i-
[7:25 pm] wonyoung: and as her future bf u SHOULD start to train ur ynradar
[7:25 pm] wonyoung: anw its exam season stoopid
[7:26 pm] wonyoung: and its when those kids start to talk abt how the both of us are gonna get top scores
[7:26 pm] wonyoung: and they talk down on y/n while doing so
[7:26 pm] wonyoung: assholes
[7:27 pm] wonyoung: so i propose to u
[7:27 pm] wonyoung: a ✨ study date ✨
[7:28 pm] jungwon: i
[7:29 pm] jungwon: that's
[7:29 pm] jungwon: actually not a bad idea
[7:30 pm] wonyoung: obv i came up with it
[7:31 pm] jungwon: can u not
[7:31 pm] wonyoung: anw a study date
[7:32 pm] wonyoung: she's struggling in maths
[7:33 pm] wonyoung: specifically taxes because she said and i quote
[7:34 pm] wonyoung: "why do we have to do taxes when we pay people to do it for us"
[7:34 pm] wonyoung: so pls help her and try to cheer her up
[7:35 pm] wonyoung: and confess coward
[7:36 pm] jungwon: i make no promises for the last one
[7:36 pm] wonyoung: aFTER EVERYTHING I JUST SAID
[7:37 pm] jungwon: what if she rejects me wonyoung
[7:38 pm] wonyoung: WE'VE HAD THIS CONVERSATION A LOT OF TIMES JUNGWON
[7:38 pm] wonyoung: SHE LIKES U BUT SHES TOO DUMB TO REALISE
[7:39 pm] jungwon: sigh
[7:40 pm] jungwon: fine i'll try thanks wonyoung
[7:41 pm] wonyoung: np i expect y'all to be a couple by next monday <3
[7:41 pm] jungwon: i-
Sighing for the nth time of the night, Jungwon sat on his bed. He allowed the towel to slipped off his shoulders as his thumb hovered over your chat icon. Truth be told, he always thought his crush on you was unrequited love. You never showed any signs of returning of feelings so he thought he would just ignore the feeling until it was gone.
But oh boy was he wrong, because he didn't knew that he would be spending his high school years by your side. And now you occupy his mind 24/7. Wonyoung could literally tell that he was in love with you, but somehow you never caught on. He allowed Sunoo and Riki to convince him to do the whole "movie date idea", but that failed. So Wonyoung's suggestion was his only option left.
He typed out the message, ready to send it out. If only he could just press the button. Come on Yang Jungwon, you can do this. Just press the damn button Jungwon. Suddenly his phone pinged loudly, scaring the lights out of the poor boy as he yelped and his phone landed with a thud on the ground. He peered over his bed, as if his phone was a ticking bomb.
Oh, it was a message from you.
[8:01 pm] y/n: hey do u know where wonyoung is
[8:01 pm] y/n: she isn't answering my texts
Oh no. He realised that your chat was open, the two ticks indicated that he had (unintentionally) read the message. He couldn't just leave you on read. That's just evil. Scrambling to get his phone, he immediately typed a reply to cover for the other girl.
[8:02 pm] jungwon: sorry i don't :/
[8:02 pm] jungwon: what do u need her for
[8:03 pm] y/n: mf was supposed to teach me a maths question but she left me on rEAD
This was his chance! It was the perfect opportunity for him to score a date with you. Okay, breathe in breath out Jungwon. Don't mess it up and just ask her, he mentally prepared himself.
[8:04 pm] jungwon: oh i could help you if you want
[8:04 pm] jungwon: yk with finals coming up and everything, i can help you study
[8:05 pm] jungwon: if you want of course
[8:05 pm] y/n: omg srsly??
[8:06 pm] jungwon: pls help me study my braincells are literally dying
[8:07 pm] jungwon: jdsjkda okay how about this saturday at your place?
[8:08 pm] y/n: yeah sure
[8:08 pm] jungwon: cool its a date then!
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You blinked at Jungwon's message. A date? Wait, did Yang Jungwon just indirectly asked you out? Nah, nah. You were overthinking it. Yes, definitely overthinking. Don't kid yourself, why would Jungwon ask you out on a date? Jungwon is just a friend, you tried to convince yourself.
Keyword: tried.
If he really was just a friend, then why did it felt like butterflies were in your stomach when he said "it was a date"? Then why did you frowned when those girls said that Wonyoung and Jungwon would make a good couple?
Oh god, do you have feelings for your best friend?
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Saturday came faster than you would have liked it to. Ever since that last chat with Jungwon, it gave you the sudden realisation that you did in fact had feelings for your best friend. You tried so hard to avoid him in school because you don't want the butterflies back in your stomach. It was basically confirming the fact that you like him. Well, avoiding him also confirmed the fact but you choose to be in denial about it.
You didn't tell Wonyoung about your study date but lately she's been sending you outfit ideas on Pinterest. Specifically, date outftis. And whenever you tried to ask her a question about school, she brushed you off with a random excuse. So it left you no choice but to save those questions for Jungwon.
Speaking of Jungwon, he had texted you 10 minutes ago that he was on the way. You were standing in the middle of your room with your hands on your hips. Both of your parents were out for the day, which left you alone at home. You had taken out the low table to be used later and it was currently in front of you. Colourful workbooks were neatly stacked on top of it.
You did a 360 turn around your room. Was it messy? You cleaned it this morning when you woke up. Did you had any clothes out? No, doesn't look like it. For some reason, you were a nervous wreck. You blamed Jungwon. He just had to call this a date, didn't he.
Should you change? Maybe you should finally look through all those pins Wonyoung sent. Wait, no, why would you have to change into something nice. Jungwon was here to help you study, just that.
Yeah, a study date, your mind emphasised on the word.
The sound of the doorbell pulled you out from your thoughts. You immediately went to open the door. Yang Jungwon stood there on the other side, with his signature smile. Had he always resembled a sheep? He just looked so fluffy.
"Hey!" You greeted him with a smile, internally wincing at your way-too-enthusiastic voice.
But Jungwon didn't seem to mind it. "Hey!" he greeted back.
You moved to the side to let him in. "Thank you for having me," he said as he bowed then proceeded to remove his shoes.
"Uh, do you want anything? Water?" You asked him.
He shook his head.
"Ah, cool. Let's head to my room," you started to walk back to your room.
"Where are your parents?" He asked.
"Out," you simply replied.
That was when it dawned upon you, that your parents were not home. Leaving you and Jungwon, alone. Together. In your room. Alone. With the boy you potentially have a crush on.
"Y/N?" Jungwon tapped on your shoulder. You had stopped walking when you were suddenly washed over by your thoughts. Snapping out of it, you sent him a small smile before opening the room to your door.
The both of you shuffled into your bedroom, you sat down in front of the low table while Jungwon settled down next to you. He moved to take out his books then turned to you. "How about we do some studying and if you have any questions, you can ask me okay?" He said.
You nodded and flipped your own workbook open, immediately starting to work on the first question. Jungwon copied your action and a comfortable silence engulfed the both of you. As the time passed, you found yourself stuck on a certain maths question.
You slightly turned your head to the side to look at Jungwon. He was concentrated at doing his work, you felt a sense of deja vu while looking at him. He resembled Wonyoung when she was studying. At the thought of Wonyoung, you suddenly thought of what those girls said at the bathroom.
They would make a good couple, wouldn't they, you thought. The power couple of the year.
The butterflies in your stomach faded away into an uncomfortable feeling. Just the idea of them getting together already made you sick. You bit the inside of your cheek, you really did had feelings for him. And now it scared you because what if he doesn't feel the same. You made a mental note to consult with Wonyoung later, at least you hope that you'll allow yourself to tell her.
Jungwon must've noticed you staring and gently tapped your head with his pencil. A contrast to when Wonyoung painfully flicked your forehead.
"What's wrong? Are you stuck on a question?" He asked.
You leaned back a bit at the sudden action. You were so deep in your insecurities that you had totally forgotten about the literal problem sitting in front of you. Yet you couldn't even bother to ask him so you just shook your head. "I'm gonna get something to drink," you said instead.
Jungwon watched as you stood up, then decided to follow you as well. "I'll come along."
The boy joined you in the kitchen, perched on one of the island stools as you grabbed a can of soda from the fridge. He studied your movement as you worked around the kitchen. Your features were neutral, you weren't smiling nor frowning. But he could tell that your shoulders were tensed. Wonyoung was right, you did seem down. And he cursed himself for not noticing earlier.
"You okay?" His question made you stopped in a mid-pour stance, the can of soda was tilted but not enough for the contents to be poured out.
You brushed his question off and poured the drink into the cup. "Yeah," you hummed.
Unconvinced by your answer, he pried more. "You know you shouldn't care about what they say, right?"
You furrowed your eyebrows at him, pretending like you didn't understand where he was coming from.
"You're not below us, you know that right?"
You couldn't help but scoffed at his words. Jungwon's lips tugged downwards "I'm being serious here, Y/N," his tone was stern. "You shouldn't listen to what they say. You're more than just-"
The sound of the can being slammed down shuts him up. Your fingers tightened around the can as you looked at him. You didn't had the energy to hear him preach the same old "Don't Listen To Them" speech. You don't need his pity.
"I don't want to hear it, Yang Jungwon," you said through gritted teeth. Not sparing him another glance, you threw the empty can into the trash as you grabbed your glass.
As you walked past Jungwon, he suddenly reached out and held onto your forearm. "Y/N," he said softly. "Please tell me what's wrong."
You sighed and slowly turn around to face him, placing the glass back on the counter. You took in a deep breath before you opened your mouth. "I feel like I'm not enough," you finally said. "Everything I do just doesn't seem enough. All I'm doing is my best but it's just crushing my ego because everyone is telling me that you're better than me."
"I feel like no one wants me and I hate the way I'm perceived. It's always poor Y/N this and poor Y/N that's because everyone just sees me as your shadow and I fucking hate it. I only have two real friends," you gestured wildly. "And lately I'm a nervous wreck cause I keep comparing myself to the two of you. I'm not cool and I'm not smart, and I can't even parallel park!" You threw your hands up in frustration, the feelings you kept inside were pouring out like a waterfall.
Jungwon just stood there as he listened tentatively to every word. He didn't knew that you felt this way, bottling up all your emotions like that.
"And I'm so tired of people telling me to enjoy my youth and that these are the golden years. I might just fucking cry if I hear those words again," you finished ranting. It felt good, it felt like a weight on your heart has been lifted. Then you remembered that you just dumped all of it on Jungwon.
You opened your mouth to apologise to him but he surprised you by pulling him into his arms. At first you were standing stiffly at the sudden contact, but it took a millisecond for you to melt in his embrace. His arms were gently around your back and you returned the hug by wrapping your arms around his torso. The two of you stay in that position for awhile, relishing in each other's embrace. You definitely needed this hug.
Tightening your hold on Jungwon, you realised how important he was to you. He was your best friend and he was always there for you. It was stupid of you to compare yourself to him, when all he did was tried his best for you. The taller boy chuckled when he felt you rubbed your face into his shoulder, he involuntarily released a contented sigh. You felt one of his hands stroked your hair, it felt comforting. That action itself was enough for the butterflies to slowly settled back in you.
After a while, both of you finally (unwillingly) released each other. He pushed a strand of hair behind your ears and said, "You're wrong by the way." Which made you tilt your head in genuine confusion.
"You are cool and you are smart. You're like the coolest person I know. And no one thinks of you as our shadow, you don't hear it but I've always hear the juniors praising you for helping them and how enthusiastic you are," the way he delivered his words was filled with pure awe for you.
"And who cares if you can't parallel park. You didn't hear it from but Jay hyung failed his drivers test three times just because he couldn't parallel park," and that got a laugh out from you. Jungwon smiled proudly that he managed to make you laugh. "And you're wrong when you said no one wants you. I want you."
You blinked once, twice and thrice. He wanted you? "You're just saying that cause you're my best friend," you replied.
"No," he firmly said. "I like you, Y/N."
(Jungwon doesn't know where he got this sudden surge of confidence, but the mood was the perfect time for him to confess. It was a one time chance and he had to take it.)
You chuckled. "I like you too, Jungwon. We are friends aren't we?"
"No, Y/N. I like you. More than friends."
"Oh." Oh.
"Yeah," he scratched the back of neck awkwardly. Oh no, did you not feel the same way?
While you on the other hand, were malfunctioning on the inside. Your best friend just confessed to you and you were frozen on the spot. Why couldn't he had done it over text instead. If he had done it over text, then you could've left the message unread and you could've spammed Wonyoung for help. But the thing is that it wasn't over text and you couldn't just tell him to wait here while you panicked to Wonyoung in your bathroom.
Yang Jungwon likes you. And you like him too, right? Because if you didn't, your cheeks won't be heating up right now and your heart would have not be beating rapidly like it was going to break your rib cage any second. If you didn't like him, there would have never been butterflies in your stomach. Yeah. You like Yang Jungwon, you like him a lot.
"Me too," you whispered, it was soft but it was enough for him to pick it up. Jungwon eyes snapped to you, doe eyed filled with hope. "I like you, too," you said, this time louder. And you made sure you looked him in the eye when you confessed.
You watched as Jungwon's mouth morphed into a big grin. He let out a sigh of relief and dropped to his knees, surprising you. "Jungwon!" you squeaked, bending down to help him.
"I'm fine! I'm fine," he assured you as he stood up with your help. The grin on his face was still there. "It's just that … you like me," he breathed out. "You like me back, wow. I-I can't believe it."
Your face was definitely burning with embarrassment. You punched him lightly on the shoulder, turning away to hide your face. "Believe it, you dork. I like you, okay!" Somehow his grin was able to grew wider at your words, Gently, he took your hand in his.
"How about we stop this study date, and I'll take you out on real date?"
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© chaeryybomb 2021
a/n: thank you so much for reading this <3
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inskz · 4 years
Text
lucky charm - lee minho
pairing - lee minho x reader
genre - college!au, best friends to lovers, very cliche fluff (lucky girl starring lindsey lohan kinda vibes???)
words - 4k
note - this is just a cute little drabble i wrote while im still waiting for my covid test results to come back so that i can leave my room and see the sun again 🤪 pls be careful everybody take care of your health 💚 enjoy!!!
- - - - -
“You must be kidding me,” you sigh when you see Minho’s hand has turned into a fist, his rock crushing miserably your scissors. Once again, you lost at rock, paper, scissors. And once again, you’re the one that is going to wash your best friend’s dishes that have piled up in is tiny kitchen sink throughout the week.
“Fuck that. This is so unfair,” you grumble, throwing the dishtowel in Minho’s stupid yet perfectly chiseled face.
You make a beeline for his bed, which is actually only a few steps away from the kitchen. Being a broke college student definitely doesn’t allow him to rent a spacious studio, let alone a two-room apartment. You throw yourself headfirst onto his uncomfortable mattress, whose springs always poke your back at night.
“Life is so unfair,” your friend mocks you, dragging out every vowel of his sentence dramatically.
No doubt, you would be strangling him at that very moment if you weren’t so busy playing dead, hoping he would forget about your pitiful existence.
But there is no way mister Lee Minho would miss out on an opportunity to have his gross plates cleaned by someone else. Grabbing onto your ankle, he drags you out of bed until you plop down on the dirty carpeted floor (Minho has the unfortunate tendency to procrastinate vacuuming too). At this point, you are fake crying, throwing a literal tantrum, like a 6 years old child would.
“Life is unfair!” you yell, your feet kicking in the air in pure anger.
At least it is to you. You can’t remember the last time you’ve been lucky. The only instance you got remotely close to it was when you found a four-leaf clover last summer. Well, only if you disregard the fact you stepped into dog poop  on your way to picking it. Oh and that you were wearing brand new white Converse. 
On the other hand, it seems like the boy has the whole crew of the Olympus gods on his side. Not one day goes by without his guardian angel manifesting its presence. 
Minho has always been the lucky type. The type to get an extra nugget in his box of 10. To find 20 dollars bills on the ground. To win every single Instagram giveaway he participates to (and lord knows how much he likes participating to them). 
But how can you be mad at him when he always happily shares his food with you, invites you to the restaurant without you even asking, and gives you his prizes, pretending he doesn’t need them? You don’t believe him when he says he see no use in a panda onesie or a waterproof bluetooth speaker. Deep down, you know it’s his way to silently love you. 
But well, you can still blame him for occasionally taking advantage of your misfortune to make you do his dreaded house chores, just like right now. 
Everyone thinks you are a bizarre duo. Even you can’t fathom how in hell you two became best friends, considering how awfully your first encounter went three years ago. 
On orientation day, he asked you for the time, probably because his phone was dead (or maybe because he was dying to talk to you?)
Without hesitation, you lifted and rotated your wrist so that you could see your watch. Little did you remember; you never actually owned a watch and you were holding a fancy 7 dollars iced coffee, which, of course, did not have a lid on because plastic is bad for the environment (duh). 
Minho couldn’t help but burst out in hysterical laughter when the whole drink spilled on your jeans. For your defense, you didn’t sleep at all the night before  since you were terrified of being alone in your new dorm room the first few days (weird stuff happens all the time in dorms, okay?). If he had asked you for your name, you probably wouldn’t even have been able to tell him. 
But Minho thought you were the funniest person on campus, and he really needed a clown like you to entertain him throughout his endless college semesters. That’s what he told you anyways. Not that he thought you were the cutest human being he had ever seen. 
Why would he when you are the literal definition of a mess: always having toothpaste stains on your sweater, bags under your eyes, messy hair, tripping and falling, missing buses, breaking things, losing stuff. 
Most of the time, you just forget your keys and Minho lets you crash at his place since he hasn’t got any roommate and he isn’t used to sleeping alone, especially without his cats. It surely isn’t because he loves waking up next to a very groggy but adorable you every single morning, no.  
Minho manages to bring you back to the countertop despite your reluctance. Positioned behind you, his arms trapping your body to make sure you can’t run away from your duties, he dips your hands into the soapy water, and you can’t help but squirm at the touch of an unknown substance sticking to a plate that has probably been soaking here for a week. You despise doing the dishes and your friend knows it.
You hear him giggle in your ear while he is playing with your arms like you are some type of marionette, making you to take the sponge and squeeze dish soap onto it. 
You’ve never been the kind to like proximity nor seemed to be Minho, but for some reason, you always end up glued to each other. You hate public displays of attention and pet names a little less when it comes from him. Or maybe you don’t hate it at all and actually crave it every single minute that goes by.
Before he has the time to come up with the Machiavellian idea to soak your pajamas in dirty water (because you know he would inevitably have at some point), you yank his hands off of you and start scrubbing angrily the dirty cups. 
Minho stays behind you anyways, observing your every move, his chin propped up on your shoulder like a curious little bird. To be honest, his presence is kind of getting overwhelming. But whatever, it’s not like his slightest touch makes your heart warm up in comfort or that he smells like fresh linen drying out on the porch of a cottage house on a sunny Sunday morning or anything. 
“You missed a spot. Here” he murmurs teasingly, his lips almost touching your earlobe, while he points at the handle of his hideous ‘world’s greatest dad’ mug Jisung gifted him last christmas. 
You know he has noticed the way you shivered violently at the feeling of his breath tickling your skin because he starts snickering loudly. 
“I swear to god if you don’t shut up and go seat on the couch, I’ll slap you so hard with this spatula you’ll regret you were even born,” you say, turning around suddenly to menace him with the plastic utensil. 
Of course, he isn’t afraid one bit. Right now, you really wish you could make the smug, but oh so attractive, look on his face disappear. 
“Alright, ma’am” he laughs, holding up his hands in surrender. “I’ll let you do your thing”. He lets himself fall onto his dingy couch. 
You can hear him humming one of his favorite songs above the sound of the water running. It would probably be getting on your nerves if his voice wasn’t so pretty.  
“Chan’s sick, so we’re not going to the gym tomorrow night. Do you wanna eat tacos? El Huero has even better deals than usual” he asks you, scrolling mindlessly through his phone. 
“Aren’t the deals supposed to be on Tuesdays?” You frown and scrub a little harder the frying pan Minho has burnt the night before while trying to make chocolate chips pancakes for diner, because why eat savory food when you can have dessert for every meal, right? It is one of the few advantages of living without your parents you both truly enjoy. 
“Yeah, that’s what I said. Tomorrow,” he yawns, probably exhausted after what you put him through last night. You forced him to catch up on the entire season of Love Island because you desperately needed someone to bitch with, and what better partner than Lee Minho.  
You take a quick glance at him and see him stretching himself across the cushions like a cat. You always thought there was something feline about his features. While you’re drying the mugs with the dishtowel, your mind wanders uncontrollably, thinking about his piercing eyes, his delicate nose, the corners of his lips that curl up a little… 
All of the sudden, your hands freeze. Minho is too immersed in TikToks to notice the stupor on your face. “Wait. Today is… Monday?” you stutter. 
Alarmed by the sound of your voice, his eyes finally leave his phone’s screen to look up at you. “Yeah” he repeats slowly as if you are the dumbest person he has ever encountered. 
And you truly are. You are pretty sure your heart has stopped beating. Minho’s “world’s greatest dad” mug you’re holding slips between your fingers and comes crashing on the floor with a deafening sound. The pieces are now scattered all around you, making you unable to make out what’s written on it anymore. Not a big loss, if you ask. 
“Y/N, you know that’s my favorite mug!” he exclaims, leaping up from the couch. “I’m sure you did it on purpose,” he mutters while he’s trying to collect the small fragments, in vain. 
But you’re too shocked at this very moment to pay attention to the glare your friend is giving you. To be honest, Minho has only two moods: glaring at you or teasing you.  
“My interview,” you finally manage to say, and Minho’s eyes go wide as he realizes the critical situation you’re in. 
You check the time on the microwave: 10:45. In 30 minutes, you’re supposed to be on the other side of town, being interrogated by boring businessmen that are going to decide whether or not you’ll be accepted for a paid internship in one of the most reputable music label of the country. Basically, decide whether you’ll live a happy and fulfilling life, working in the sector you’ve always dreamed of or end up miserable with a boring office job and a massive college debt. 
“Holy shit,” Minho whispers. You can see a wave of panic washing across his face for a split second, but, as always, he manages to find his composure back immediately. 
He has never been the kind to lose his cool, except to scold you when you forget the names of his cats and their respective coats’ color (which you unfortunately often did forget). 
“What are you doing? Get dressed!” He tells you when he sees you’re still standing there dumbfounded in the kitchen, like the famous Robert Pattinson meme, wearing an oversize Kermit the frog shirt with a dozen holes in it and his favorite Adidas sweatpants you always stole from him.
“No, it’s too late. I can’t make it,” you mutter, your breath short. You’re paralyzed, as if there is a 20lbs rock sitting at the bottom of your stomach, pinning you to the ground. 
This isn’t bad luck, you think. This is karma. This is what you get for skipping classes to watch telereality shows in your bed with your best friend and not even realizing it isn’t the weekend anymore.
“Miss me with that bullshit.” He runs to his closet and rummages through his drawers, throwing every piece of clothing that’s on his way to find an appropriate outfit that would fit you. 
“You’re gonna go do this interview even if I have to drag you all the way there.” He pushes you into his bathroom since you still haven’t moved an inch. 
You manage to brush your teeth and your hair, fighting through the nauseous feeling that is building up in your tummy. 
When you come back to the living room, Minho has found dress pants and a sweater that might not look utterly ridiculous on you. He lets you change in a corner, while he runs around the room collecting all your essentials. 
“You’re coming?” you ask him when you see he is already wearing his puffer jacket.  
“You really think I’m gonna let you go all by yourself when you’re literally not even able to put your shoes on properly”. You are, indeed, struggling with your laces, as if your fingers are suddenly made out of butter. 
Minho ties them up for you and you literally feel like he’s your babysitter. You know you’re gonna hear about this for months – what are you saying- years! But all you can think about at the moment though, is the fact that sneakers are definitely not appropriate for an interview. 
He throws your warmest coat at you, grab his keys, and by some type of miracle, you’re both out to the door in less than 10 minutes. 
You try to call the elevator, but Minho grabs your arm and leads you to the staircase. His hand never leaving yours, he runs down the stairs and you have no choice but to follow him as fast as you can. 
You can’t count how many times you missed a step and fell at this particularly slippery spot, between the 5th and the 4th floor, but weirdly enough, it doesn’t happen today. 
When you finally reach the ground floor, you exit the complex and Minho hops on his old and rusty bike that he had attached to nearest tree the night before.
“There’s no way I’m riding behind you on this death machine,” you laugh nervously. The memory of that one time Minho convinced you to seat into his bicycle basket (as if you could even realistically fit in it) and you both fell seconds after he started to pedal is coming back to your mind.
Sure, it was after a long night of drinking, you were both tipsy and it was the only way to get you home since you had spent all your uber money at the bar, but still! You’re pretty sure the bruise on your butt hasn’t disappeared to this day.  
“Hurry up,” Minho groans, ignoring your complaint. You unwillingly seat on his flimsy pannier rack and wrap your arms around his torso. 
You haven’t even left, yet you’re already holding onto his puffer jacket for dear life. A giggle escapes your friend’s mouth (which you think is very inappropriate in such a desperate situation) before he lifts his feet off the ground and starts pedaling. 
You try to ignore the loud squeaking of the bicycle drive by shutting your eyes tighter and rehearsing your introduction you have prepared over and over in your head. No matter how hard you are trying, you can’t remember what you are supposed to say just after your age (which, as you can imagine, isn’t really far into your monologue). 
By the way the wind is lashing your face, you can tell Minho has picked up the speed. His breathing is getting louder, his heartbeat faster and you can’t help but think you’re probably way too heavy for him to bike you around like that. Maybe he shouldn’t skip his gym sessions with Chan so often. Or maybe you shouldn’t have eaten the leftover pancakes for breakfast after all.
You find the courage to open your eyelids and are pleased to see you’re already halfway there, probably because every single one of the traffic lights you encounter is green, and your friend is going surprisingly fast. Is luck finally starting to smile upon you? 
Your mad race comes to a halt when you reach the address of your interview. You hop off the bike and so does Minho who, by the way, is a panting mess. He’s barely able to catch his breath, strands of hair sticking to his sweaty forehead, but he’s beaming at you when he realizes you’re just on time. 
“Go” he gasps, pushing you in the direction of the building’s hall. 
You walk up to the glass door but as your hands are about to push it, you pull a 180. Your friend sighs loudly, already knowing what’s coming next. 
“Wait. No. I can’t do this. I’m not prepared” you tell him frantically. “I’m freaking out. I think I’m gonna pass out.” You are now walking in circles, mumbling incoherently. 
“Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck.” 
Your heart is racing in your chest and your hands are getting clammy at the simple thought of failure. But guess what? You can’t fail if you don’t even try! One more good reason to just go back to bed and forget about your sad life for a good 8 hours, right? 
“Y/N, you’re the most talented person I know, you’re gonna do just fine” Minho catches you in his arm to stop your endless pacing. You would probably think this gesture is endearing if it wasn’t just meant to make sure you couldn’t run for your life.  
“No, I’m not. What if I throw up in front of everybody like that one time during the Romeo and Juliet musical?” You look up at him and his face is only inches away from yours. You’re sure you would be swooning at how beautiful he looks if you weren’t so terrified at this very moment.
“You were nine,” your best friend says, and you swear you have never heard him speak to you in such a sweet tone before. His voice is like honey and lavander but it doesn’t soothe you like it should. 
You manage to break free from his embrace to crouch down, in an attempt to slow down your breathing. If only you had data left, you could be watching those short relaxing videos on your phone. They always work. But no, you had to spent it all on online games, just one week into the month. You really are beyond help.  
“Y/N I know you’re scared, but if you miss out on this opportunity, you’re gonna regret it for the rest of your life.” Minho is lowering himself so that you can hear him, even though you’re curled up in a ball. 
“And I’m warning you, I won’t want to hear you complain about it,” he adds, this whole situation obviously starting to get on his nerves. 
If you were him, you would have probably left a long time ago. But this isn’t your best friend’s way of behaving. You know he would never abandon you no matter how annoying you could be (and you could be very annoying sometimes). After all, he is always the one holding your hair while you puke in the toilets when you had a couple too many drinks.
It takes all your willpower to stand up but there is no other way, you have to do it. You can hear the time ticking dangerously in your mind, as if your brain had turned into a clock.
“You’re right. Slap me,” you say, looking at him straight in the eyes, dead serious. 
“Wha -“
“Slap some sense into me. They do that in movies when people are panicking. It’s like throwing a bucket of cold water in someone’s face. But clearly we don’t have a bucket and we don’t have cold wa- “ you start blabbering. 
“What the fuck are you talking about? I’m not gonna slap you!” Your friend isn’t usually that horrified at the thought of beating your ass. In fact, he has felt the desire to rip your head off more than once, especially when you’d steal all the duvet at night, but at this moment he is just scared you might have actually lost your mind.  
“Just fucking do it Minho!” you scream, your hands clenching the front of his grey hoodie he always looks so divine in. 
Minho has never obeyed you, and this is not the day he is going to start. 
He puts both of his hands on the sides of your face and crashes his lips onto yours. 
You would be lying if you said you have never imagined the day your best friend would kiss you. It happens pretty much every single time you look at his cute pout a little too long. But one thing is certain, it isn’t like you pictured it to be at all.
You were convinced your heart would go so wild it would burst out of your chest and your head would spin so furiously you’d lose your balance. You thought your stomach would fill with butterflies to the brim and your whole body would be on fire.
But none of that is happening. On the contrary, every single muscle in your body relaxes under his touch. The way his soft mouth presses gently against yours makes you calmer, almost at peace amongst all this turmoil. 
Minho is kissing all your tension and stress away and you catch yourself letting a sigh of relief escape your parted lips.
As if you have kissed him already hundreds of times in your past life, Minho feels like home. He’s a safe haven you can always take refuge in during troubled times. Ever since the day you met, he has never left your side.
When he breaks away from the kiss, you notice your breath isn’t so ragged and your mind isn’t so foggy anymore. You’re serene. His cold hands are still cupping your face, slightly squishing your cheeks, and you feel like an idiot sandwich for asking him to slap you seconds before.
“That can work too, I guess…” you mutter.  
“You’re okay?” he asks, staring at you with the softest eyes you’ve ever seen.
You just nod, unable to say one more word, and sprint to the entrance, not wanting to make your interviewers wait any longer than they already have.
“Good luck!” You hear him yell just before the door closes behind you and you can’t help but grin from ear to ear.
- - - - - 
Thirty minutes later, you finally step out of the fancy lobby to find a very bored Minho leaning against a tree, patiently waiting for you.
“You’re still here?”
“Of course, I am,” he says, his mouth full of croissant. He gives you a large iced coffee he probably went buying to kill time. Your lips unconsciously curl up into a smile when you notice it comes from the same chain that the one you spilled on your lap on the day you first met him. 
“How did it go?” he asks you, sticking his buttery pastry into your mouth so that you can take a bite.
“Way better than I thought” you answer, right after you swallowed. You hate the way flakes would always get stuck between your teeth. But Minho is always there to warn you about it before anyone else notices, and even pick them for you if you can’t manage to, which, when you think about it, is kind of gross. 
There are two things the boy knows about you: you’re the greatest pessimist on earth and you’d rather die than admit you were wrong (especially if it meant he was right). So for you to even say it wasn’t that bad, means it went phenomenal. 
“I don’t want to say ‘I told you so’ but I told you so.” He smiles so wide you can barely see his eyes anymore. You have to look away, otherwise you know you might become instantly blinded by love.
“Maybe I could use some more of your luck” you mumble, staring at your shoes and kicking the red leaves that were surrounding your feet on this sunny autumn morning. 
“Really? And what makes you think I’ll share it with you,” he teases you, leaning forward to incite you to look at him in the eyes. 
“That.”
Your hand finds the back of his neck and pulls him in, in order to close the space that is still left between your mouths.
At first, Minho stiffens, taken aback by your bold move. But soon enough, he caves into your touch. He kisses you back fervently, like he means it. 
His fingers entagle in your hair, his arm wraps around your waist and his chest presses against your body. You’re melting in his embrace, submerged by a wave of bliss which he alone seems to know the recipe. 
It feels new, yet so familiar. Like it was supposed to happen, like it was written in the stars. 
He tastes like croissant and Americano. Like fortune and fate. 
And you can’t help but think you’re the luckiest person on earth.
Who cares about winning the lottery when Lee Minho is your lucky charm? 
439 notes · View notes
cole-grey-writes · 3 years
Text
Brown Hair Braided
Universe: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Timeline: Post-Captain America: The Winter Soldier
Character(s): Steve Rogers, Bucky Barnes
Pairing(s): Stucky x Male Reader
Warning(s): tooth rotting fluff
Request: Hi king!! Your writing is amazing! I’d love to request a cuddly stucky x boyfriend reader. Bonus points for extra snuggly long haired Bucky and Steve and the reader playing with his hair.
A/n: WOW so sorry this took me a while to get up. I was busy with online classes and homework, all that shit. and if anyone is interested to know, i finished applying to my first college (yeah cutting it suuuper short but fuck im a procrastinator). I really hope you enjoy this fic. Keep sending in your requests, i really like writing for you guys!
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You sit at the desk that sits in your bedroom, doing some last minute paperwork before the weekend. You’re startled from your focus and analytical thoughts when you get a frantic text from one of your boyfriends, Steve. You smile.
It's been a couple years since you had started going out with Steve but it still feels like you two were in the honeymoon phase. Steve brings a smile to your face at even the slightest mention of him. Although, you’re a little confused as to why Steve didn’t just call you. It’s what he usually prefers to converse with you while you are away from each other, Steve having told you it had something to do with liking to hear your voice. You chose not to dig further to spare Steve’s already tomato red face from exploding.
You turn away from your computer and small stack of papers, picking up your phone just as the screen lights up with another text.
Steve [5:23 p.m.]    Y/N Y/N Y/N
Steve [5:23 p.m.]    HEY
Steve [5:24 p.m.]    ANSWER
You snort, wondering what Steve seems so excited about.
You [5:24 p.m.]    what
Steve [5:23 p.m.]    BUCK IS COMING HOME
You’re immediately sitting up straight, smile spreading even wider. You now understand why Steve had chosen to text you, probably embarrassed to start loudly squealing over their boyfriend coming home while in his place of work.
Bucky was your other boyfriend, something you wouldn’t have believed if you were to bring it up with your past self. This is mostly due to the almost palpable tension between the two of you when you and Bucky officially met about a year prior.
You, Steve, Sam, and occasionally Natasha, had been trailing after Bucky all over Europe for a few months. Bucky must have been slowly rebuilding himself during that time because he had suddenly stopped running right before you were going to hit the four (4) month mark.
You didn’t understand where all the awkwardness had been coming from. For all you knew, you were just looking for Steve’s childhood best friend, one of the only people to still remain from Steve’s old life. That was, until Sam and Natasha started making offhand comments about how deep Steve and Bucky’s friendship seemed to run (you honestly didn’t and don’t blame either of them for the new wave of insecurities that flooded your mind, you and Steve having agreed to keep the relationship, which you started only a few weeks before the reveal of HYDRA’s secret operations inside SHIELD, you started a secret until you two became more comfortable).
Everything made sense after that. It was understandable that you and Bucky had a fragile relationship in the beginning. And it really was only in the beginning. It didn’t take long before you and Bucky started bonding over your shared love for Steve and it didn’t take long after that before something started forming between the three of.
You [5:25 p.m.]    !!!!!
You [5:26 p.m.]    OMG
You [5:26 p.m.]    REALLY?!?
Steve [5:26 p.m.]    YES!
Steve [5:26 p.m.]    we need to hurry he’s on the way home rn
You [5:26 p.m.]    oH UM
You [5:27 p.m.]    i’m home rn
You [5:27 p.m.]    i can set up everything here
Steve [5:27 p.m.]    good!!
Steve [5:27 p.m.]    i can get dinner and dessert on my way home
You [5:27 p.m.]    perfect
Steve [5:28 p.m.]    ok 123 brEAK
You snort at Steve’s comedic antics as you push yourself away from your desk and away from your work. You know that you'll have to finish those at some point before monday. You’ll most likely be doing it late sunday night due to the fact that you’re going to be completely preoccupied with your boyfriends all weekend because it's been a few weeks since all three of you have been together.
This is obviously due to your hectic work schedules, Steve stuck with what was left of SHIELD, unofficially of course, doing top secret secret agent missions. Bucky had joined him in that soon after he was cleared for it. You, on the other hand, have a very typical and boring office job, a job that has become very demanding as of late with your boss giving out extra paperwork around your floor.
But, you don’t have to worry about that at the moment, you remind yourself. That thought spurs you into moving around your apartment, an apartment that you’ve been sharing with your boyfriends for a couple of months now. You note this fact with a small surge of glee inside your head as you rush to your closet where you keep all your blankets at.
You pull out the blankets you have, which is quite a lot, a fact you’re slightly embarrassed to admit. You’ve accumulated a bunch of them throughout your entire life, some as gifts from your friends and family and others from your lack of self control during the fall and winter time of the blatant holiday themes are anything to go by. You’re pretty sure your old baby blankets are boxed up somewhere, likely under your bed.
You pile the load of blankets high in your arms, so much so that you can’t see where you’re going if you don’t walk sideways as you make your way towards the living room. The living room where everything is going to happen.
Dropping the mountain of blankets on the couch unceremoniously, you immediately start to arrange them all around the couch. You bunch and ball the blankets around the back of the couch, trying to form a cocoon out of them so that you, Steve, and Bucky can remain warm no matter where or how any of you sit while you watch movie after movie throughout the rest of the night.
Which reminds you, it’s not possible to have a movie night without any movies.
turning to the small movie rack that sits next to the TV, you waste no time at all in picking out any movies that catch your eye which are quite a few movies, a good number of which are Steve and Bucky’s favorites. You set the, rather large, stack of movies next to the couch blanket fort so they’re out and ready to pick through whenever.
You’re left with a small clean up after that. You clear off the coffee table for when Steve gets home with the food, picking up leftover coffee mugs (courtesy of Steve) and rinsing them before sticking them in the dishwasher for you to deal with later. Then, you move the books lying around the living room to the miniature bookshelf in your bedroom before gathering all the drawing paper and well used pencils (also courtesy of Steve) and placing those on the left bedside table, the side Steve likes to sleep on when he’s not in the middle.
You wander around the apartment after that, looking for anything else to clean while you wait for Steve to arrive. It takes less time than you think it should have, which is surprising, so surprising that you almost think someone is politely breaking in when you hear the sound of the door clicking open and closed.
You head out of your bedroom where you were perusing a book, something you could distract yourself with, when you heard. You walk into the kitchen to see Steve already unpacking the food, clearly having rushed home.
You’re not able to hold back your smile upon seeing your boyfriend for the first time in weeks. “Need any help?” you wonder, your appearance catching Steve’s attention. He turns towards you, it being quite obvious that Steve is as excited to see you as you are to see him if the wide smile that spreads across his face in seconds is anything to go by.
Steve pauses in his unpacking to lean towards as you approach him swiftly, so he can pull you into a warm kiss. You and Steve feel each other smile during the kiss, making you two smile even harder. “Help would be great,” Steve tells you after you separate. He resumes unpacking the food from the plastic bag it was put into.
You identify the logo on the bag now that you’re so close and it’s clear that the food is from Bucky’s favorite burger place. You take note of the food as you help Steve set everything out on the counter. There’s three (3) different to-go boxes, no doubt filled with favorite menu items. You also spot three (3) medium sized milkshakes sitting in the cup container.
“Dessert?”
“It’s in the fridge,” Steve informs you.
Making a sound of interest and curiosity, you ask, “What is it?”
Steve smirks and raises his eyebrows. “Went to the store and got one of those ice cream cakes Buck likes.”
“Well,” you start, “that will certainly be a nice treat for later.”
You and Steve share a smile as you both grab the food and milkshakes so you can bring it to the living room. The living room where you plan to have dinner and a show with your two wonderful super-soldier boyfriends.
Afterwards, you and Steve resign yourselves to standing around the kitchen, catching up on the last few weeks. You and Steve are ready to happily greet Bucky once the time comes that he opens the door.
It feels like time drags on and on while you two are waiting so you’re very much thankful when you finally hear the turning of the doorknob. You and Steve separate from where you had been wrapped around each other, turning and shouting Bucky’s name in excitement. Just as he walks through the door, Bucky is all bashful as soon as he sees his two boyfriends greet him with spread arms and wide smiles.
You look him up and down for the first time in quite awhile, Bucky just as gorgeous as he always was. He clearly showered and changed beforehand if the damp hair and sweatpants are anything to go by.
Bucky drops the gym bag, obviously filled with his dirty and possibly damaged suit, on the floor. He stretches his arms out, resting each hand on the back of your and Steve’s necks so he can pull you both in close to give each of you a kiss on the lips.
“Welcome home.”
“Welcome home indeed,” Bucky rumbles back, a heart-eye look sweeping across his face. You’re one of the two people on earth that gets to receive that look, not that you mean to brag or anything.
“I’ll take your bag and put it in our room,” Steve tells Bucky. Bucky thanks him before he pulls Steve into another kiss. It’s something you feel there’s going to be a lot of for the rest of the evening, which you look forward to.
Steve takes Bucky’s gym bag from him before walking off so he can do exactly as he said, leaving you and your other boyfriend by yourselves in the kitchen. Once Steve is out of reach, you feel Bucky’s hand move from the back of your neck to your waist, which allows him to pull you in close. He presses you against his chest so he can engage in a deep reunion kiss. It’s been a long time since you’ve last felt his lips against yours which is why you allow yourself to indulge.
You have to force yourself to take a step back. “Not that I'm not enjoying this, because I 100 percent am, but…” you trail off as you take Bucky’s hand in yours, ”we should go to the living room for your first surprise.”
“First surprise?” Bucky’s tone lilts in clear interest, eyebrows raising. It’s almost as if he’s joking but you’re able to tell that Bucky’s genuinely looking forward to what you and Steve have prepared for him.
“We haven’t seen each other properly in weeks. There’s a lot to catch up on.”
“Well, I am definitely looking forward to it. Lead the way, doll,” Bucky instructs you, causing you to chuckle before you turn away from him in order for him to lead him into the living room.
You present the done up living room with wide open arms and an enthusiastic ‘ta-da’ and it seems that if Bucky’s smile could get bigger, it probably would. He surveys your and Steve’s work before he turns back towards you and also Steve, who has just rejoined you and Bucky. “What do you think, Buck?”
“You know what I think, Stevie baby,” Bucky tells him, grabbing one of each of your and Steve’s hands. “I absolutely love it.”
Changing the subject a little, you say, “Well, pick a seat because none of us are moving for anything other than changing the movie and getting dessert.”
Bucky hums, his voice lifting up high at the end. “Dessert, huh?”
“Yeah, yeah,” Steve dismisses before his boyfriend could get any ideas. “You have to finish your dinner first.”
Bucky nods eagerly, not in any way bothered by being withheld dessert, before he takes his seat in the middle of the couch. He clearly wants to have his boyfriends cuddled up on either side of him.
“So, what do you want to watch first?” you question while you scoot the pile of movies closer to Bucky, who doesn’t take any time at all to begin picking out the movie he wants. And as it turns out, it’s a horror movie called The Apparition.
While he takes it from the pile, Bucky comments, “Been awhile since I’ve seen one fo these.”
“Horror movie, huh?” Steve jokes. “Trying to be our knight in shining armor while we cower behind you in fear?” you laugh alongside your boyfriends.
You settle back on the couch once you’ve taken the movie from Bucky and put it in the DVD player, which begins to play shortly after. You and your boyfriends snuggle into each other’s sides, feet pulled close to your bodies as you all munch on your food.
Well, it’s more like Steve and Bucky are eating their food. At the moment, you were less interested in your food and more interested in Bucky. Your boyfriend was distracting in general, both of them were. But it’s the smooth brown waves of Bucky’s hair that’s distracting you specifically. It looks so soft, especially so after Bucky’s washed it, and you just want to run your fingers through it, play with it for hours.
Your eyes wander down to your wrist as you continue to think about your boyfriend’s long hair, eyes catching on the little black band around your wrist. It’s a hair tie, one that you and Steve always have wrapped around your wrists for this precise reason. For tying up Bucky’s hair when he needs or wants to. It’s a habit to keep hair ties on your person constantly, originating right around the time Bucky was cleared to go on missions. He had decided that he wanted to keep his hair long, at least for the time being, so as the length of Bucky’s hair grew larger so did the need for hair ties at any given time.
You glance between Bucky’s hair and the hair tie, your self control wearing thin. After only a few seconds, you’re not able to help yourself from reaching your hand out to your boyfriend’s beautiful brown hair. You weave your fingers through a few strands is all it takes for your desire to skyrocket.
Tangling both of your hands to Bucky’s hair, you feel him pause in his eating but you pay it no mind as you begin to languidly braid his hair. It’s not long before another pair of hands join yours. Looking over, you spot a giddy Steve on the other side of Bucky. It appears as if your thoughts have rubbed off on him because he grabs the other half of Bucky’s hair so he can braid it alongside you.
Bucky chuckles, clearly amused. “You two are ridiculous.” Although, you wonder if Bucky can really blame you.
“Your hair is really beautiful, though,” Steve adds. Bucky doesn’t say anything in response, not that it matters. The blush that highlights his cheeks for the next five minutes is telling enough.
You and Steve share knowing looks as you both continue to braid your boyfriend’s hair, permanent smiles stretching across your faces.
(NOT MY GIF)
Main Blog // Other Side Blog
((NO ONE HAS MY PERMISSION TO REPOST MY WORK ANYWHERE EVEN WITH CREDIT))
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1-800-i-ship-it · 3 years
Text
ToG Characters on April Fools
(if u think im procrastinating by doing this, ur absolutely correct) this is supposed to be purely entertaining, you are free to disagree with me 
Shibisu: tries to pull a prank on everyone but 9 times out of 10 probably fails, Hatz really doesn’t get why he tries to hide his swords and replace them, it literally never works. (rip to every year he loses a tracksuit to disaster dye...everyone has way too much fun messing with his tracksuits that he seems to have an infinite amount of.  
Rak: poor guy gets pranked every time with fake bananas...he has become very wary now, but the first time he bit into a plastic banana he chased down many, many turtles. legend says they never returned again, fearing the mighty chibi spear bearer who now has a bigger affinity for chocolate bars instead. 
Khun: how the hell do you even prank this guy??? answer: you don’t. (I mean, unless you have moronsexual energy + are bam) very, very good at planning out elaborate pranks...the prank war he had with Hatz was absolutely insane and Khun won by a landslide; Shibisu tried to butt in many times but they just ignored him :’) really good at making you feel like something’s off and by the time you figure it out you would have realized you have already been pranked. 
Bam: honestly you can’t even prank him you would feel way too bad about it...I mean like, this kid literally. ate grass. like, just straight up ate this yellow plant thing from the ground to test what it is. idk what he’s made of, but probably something better than litmus paper. prank tests probably won’t work on him? he’s prob just going to absorb them somehow. 
Yuri: oh hoi oh BOY does this lady pull THE BEST PRANKS. poor Evan always gets dragged along with her and her shenanigans, groaning and mumbling the whole time, but he secretly enjoys her company, even though he now has many more targets on his back because of her. definitely one of the most extra pranksters out there (will definitely paintball the walls outside of your house and toilet paper it and bake something that looks marginally good but definitely has something sketchy inside...mildy poisonous mushrooms? 3-day-old leftovers? you never know. 
Maschenny: probably Yuri’s and Khun’s equal when it comes to pranks. think she will forget pranks you pulled on her before? think again. revenge is a dish best served cold....that’s all you need to know. don’t get on her bad side or you’re screwed, save for the fact that she practically already hates everyone, so good luck! if she favors you she just probably hates you even more so you best get ready for April 1st and do your best to survive. 
Hachuling: definitely on par if not above Yuri’s and Khun’s and Maschenny’s pranks. has his own style and is always nonchalant about everything but will probably be silently laughing to himself when you fall for his pranks, inevitably. just does it for funsies cause he thinks it’s amusing. 
Lero ro: literally the only guy with braincells left on this godforsaken day lmao. good luck trying to prank him he will probably see it coming from a mile away, much to Quant’s chagrin.  
Hansung Yu: literally has the :3 face the entire day like wtf is this mans problem?? could probably prank everyone really well but only does it once in a while. besides, he always replaces the coffee with horrible instant coffee anyway. never falls for pranks either like damn does everyone want to sock his smug bastard in the face. 
Evankhell: try not to get burnt or get on her bad side. you can’t run away forever, unfortunately. 
Urek: loves pulling pranks, collabs with Yuri sometimes to Wreak Havoc and then promptly gets scolded by Garam, probably. Garam doesn’t even have the heart to pretend to say yes when he asks her out inevitably on April Fool’s. 
Hwaryun: the silent prankster who you will forget about if you don’t pay attention. watch out cause she’s coming for you and it will well-thought out, very much so, on par with all of the khun family’s pranks. 
Anaak: oh god the prank wars between her and Ran...just run away as fast as you can, the fight’s about to break out at any second whenever they’re in the same room. both don’t care about other people’s pranks except whatever this feud is between them. 
Wangnan: don’t ever, ever open the pokeballs he gives you on this fateful day. I warned you. 
Miseng: watch out cause she’s got ALL the blackmail material AND the photoshop. no escape cause she’s got pics of literally everybody. don’t underestimate this smol bean, she can go feral. 
Rachel: just salty about everything, probably leaves eaten chip bags on people’s desks but everyone’s already learned that they contain nothing inside. is this a metaphor? maybe. 
Parasol: oh god this poor guy everyone loves pranking him so much. I mean, can you blame them? the faces he makes are hilarious and god-tier meme content. I’m sorry pickle, your fate awaits you every year on April fool’s, and you cannot escape. 
Jared-19: pulls very bad offensive pranks and then gets hurt when people tell him to stop doing so, proceeds to blame it on someone, repeat cycle. 
Eduan: lmfao goddd F all his wine gets replaced with weird substances...courtesy of the khun kids. grape stash taken away, hidden somewhere, far, far away. 
Kallavan: can’t even joke about being disloyal to Jahad...does this guy ever crack a smile?? 
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hatsukeii · 4 years
Note
One where y/n has been obviously in love with Tsuki since they were kids and not afraid to show it, but he’s always been lowkey mean to her and thinks she’s annoying and then finally years later she decides he’s not a nice guy and let’s him know she’s fine with all that crap and then he realizes he’s falling for her and does something really sweet for her and they fall in love? 😭😭🥺👉🏻👈🏻 ty in advance. Sorry if this is too long or specific, if it is, feel free to ignore
I genuinely hope you didn’t think I would actually ignore this<33
IM SORRY IM A MASTER PROCRASTINATOR ILY ALL AND YOU ALL DESERVE AN APOLOGY FROM ME
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Dear diary//Tsukishima Kei x Reader
Word Count: 1.4k+
Warnings: Cursing
Genre: Angst??? I guess???
Summary: He’s an ass, but you still love him to bits, and it’s killing you.
July 16, 2008
Dear Diary,
I got to play with Tsukki again! He had his dino with him, it was super cute! He told me his front teeth came off last night, and there’s a big hole in his teeth, but it’s okay, because he said it will grow back. I tried to hold his hand while going down the twin slides but he said it was sweaty, so next time I’ll wear gloves!
You flip through the hot pink diary, cringing at your young infatuation. Your diary entries were cringey as fuck, but they always rekindle something within you whenever you read them. You can’t even remember when you stopped writing in the book. Was it when you turned 10? Maybe 12? You don’t have a single clue.
April 30, 2011
Dear Diary,
Tsukki refused to marry me in the playground at break:(( I’ve known him for so long though, aren’t we supposed to get married? I just wanna hold his hand and hug him and give him a biiiiig kiss<33
Chuckling at the memory, you recalled the event from that entry clearly. You were seven years old only, still an immature kid. You still thought that getting married in a middle school playground was a huge milestone in life, almost as crucial as a legal marriage.
May 29, 2016
Dear Diary,
Love how Tsukki didn’t even remember my birthday:,) Must be nice getting made fun of. Half the students in my class felt my second hand embarrassment from when he completely forgot about it. God, why am I even in love with this asshole? I’m gonna have to go to school tomorrow and deal with all my classmates making fun of me for being hopeless. Brb, currently digging a hole for myself:)
Frowning at the memory, you think back to when you were twelve. He was an asshole then, still is an asshole to this day. And yet not an ounce of your unconditional love and support for him has faded. Grabbing a tissue, you wipe the remaining tears from your eyes, ignoring the dried tear stains on your cheek. Your hand slams onto the bedside table, lazily feeling for your phone. Tilting it towards your face, you sigh at the empty lock screen, accepting defeat. Flicking through the rest of the book, you are welcomed by pages and pages of white. “So that’s when I gave up on this diary...” you mutter to yourself as you lift yourself up from your bed. Heading towards your desk, you absentmindedly grab yourself a pen, notebook in hand. Slamming the diary down, you open it up to the next entry page after your last one, gently placing the tip of your pen on the first line. You grab your hair out of frustration, the ink bleeding into the thin paper. “What to do, what to do...?” You mumble, starting to form sentences in your notebook.
July 17, 2020
Dear Diary,
It’s been a while hasn’t it? Holy shit, all my entries were about Tsukki weren’t they? Jesus, of course they were. At least I was able to get it off my chest this afternoon. Telling him that I’ve been in love with him for years, that was fucking terrifying. Telling him that although I know he’s an ass, an animatronic dick complete with ballsack, that won’t stop me from falling harder, it was gut wrenching, but also relieving to a certain degree. I’m still waiting for some form of response, although I’m not sure I’m gonna get one anytime soon. I can’t decide whether telling him was the dumbest or bravest decision I’ve made. Maybe it was both. Just wait until I look back on this entry like a decade later and still cry about it lmao. Tbh he’s a genuinely nice person at heart. I know that all too well. He may be an ass most the time, and he may think I’m annoying, but despite how hard he tries to push me away, I’ll never abandon him. Jesus Christ, I sound like a yandere here, but it’s not that. It’s that I care for him a lot. Maybe even a bit too much. It’s ridiculous how absolute and utter shit a crush can make you feel.
Throwing the pen down, you flop back onto your bed, huffing into the thick blankets. You stay silent, not sure of what to think of the situation. “I’ll just deal with it all tomorrow, I’m tired of this shit.”
On the other side of the incident, Tsukishima is currently going through a mental crisis.
The blond sits at his desk, eyes unwavering, but focusing on nothing. It feels as if he hasn’t blinked in what seemed to be hours. Just hours of staring at his wall that led to nothing. Your confession plays in his head nonstop, like a broken record that refused to run out of battery.
“The thing is I like you. I’m pretty sure I always have. And I know that you’re such an asshole and all that, you won’t treat me as well as people would expect, but it’s fine. I’m fine with all that. All the dumb, stupid, careless insults you’ll throw at me, the side eyes and sneers, telling me to shut up and go away, I’m fine with it. I know you’re a good person, and that’s all that matters to me.”
“Well shit what the fuck do you want me to say?”
Maybe he shouldn’t have said that.
Maybe he should have let you down slowly.
But as he stares at his wall, the photos of the two of you framed and balanced on his floating shelves, he starts to reconsider his feelings.
The way your expression faltered then as you hastily took your bag and rushed away without a single word, the way you avoided him in the halls, the way you stopped talking to him throughout the day, it drove him crazy. He couldn’t handle the realisation that he hurt you so incredibly badly, so now all he can do is stare at his empty, blank wall. Did he know why he felt that way? No. He didn’t and still doesn’t. He’s Tsukishima fucking Kei, the emotionless, provoking, unlikeable king, yet a mere girl is somehow able to mess with his mind so badly, that all he can do is wallow in regret and confusion? What is this weird feeling? His throat itches, his heart is beating like crazy, sweat starting to gather around his temples. He clamps his two hands together, slamming his forehead onto them and squeezing his eyes shut.
How could I have been so dense?
How was he unable to see that you were absolutely in love with him? Even with the bento boxes, birthday gifts, constant compliments, he still only ever thought you liked him as a friend. However he never did. He likes you more than that. Way more. Yes, he thought, and still thinks you can be annoying at times, especially when you nag at him about not eating enough or being rude, but it was undeniable that there was something else he felt. But his stupid ass shitty ego would never let him admit it. And now that you finally confessed, he freaked out and fucked up. Even then, he didn’t think it would affect him to this extent.
“It was a stupid middle school crush, I’m over you (Y/N).”
He says that over and over again, desperate to cloud out the disagreeing thoughts in his head that scream otherwise.
“It was a stupid middle school crush, I’m over you.”
“It was a stupid middle school crush, I’m over you.”
“It was a stupid middle school crush, I’m over you.”
The guilt didn’t go away.
In fact, now that he’s said all that, he feels even worse. Oh how much he wants to find you right this second, wrap you in his arms, tell you how incredibly sorry he is, but he can’t. He doesn’t deserve to do that. His heart is begging for him to just get out of the house and run to yours as fast as he could, but his body won’t move. He wants to cry. Scream. Shout. Throw something. Shatter something. But most of all, he wants to get another chance.
Picking up his phone, he hesitates, before typing in your contact, the cleared out, empty chatroom showing up on his screen. Going as fast as his fingers could, he typed out the one sentence he’s been dying to let out.
“It was a middle school crush, but I’m still into you. I always have been.”
Is it just me, or is this bad-
Idk man it seems like all my fics are pretty much the same and I hate it😌
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I’m back to writing lmao I’m bored in two week quarantine rn
Edit: cue me realising I was half asleep and missed something in the request don’t be surprised if I repost this💀💀💀💀
Btw the hq manga just ended time to cry
💕💕💕💕
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