#today i managed to say no to a taking someone’s closing shift too since i’m working opening shift

[jittyjames]

i said no to somebody today :)

#it’s the small things really #like i’m such a pushover and it’s so scary when people KNOW that #and i know it too #like i’m an extreme people pleaser that always puts other people’s comforts ahead of my own to an extreme level #and there are some people in my life who only interact with me bc they know this about me #BUT #today i managed to say no to a taking someone’s closing shift too since i’m working opening shift #bc this person wanted to go get a tattoo but didn’t put in their request off #and this person KNEW i had plans to go out tonight myself #side note: this person has ALSO screwed me over multiple times even tho i literally saved them from getting fired TWICE #did the blank look of not understanding and questioning why i couldn’t suck?? yeah. but i advocated for myself and stood my ground #that’s not easy for me #but i did it!

[jamie-leah]

Lifeline

Bucky x Reader Fic

Oneshot? Series? You tell me...

Summary: You have a past that you're running from and maybe Bucky can be the lifeline you had no idea you were searching for.

Word Count: 1,809

Warnings: Mentions of physical abusive, Abusive relationship, descriptions of panic attack, rusty writing, fluff

A/N: Thought I would dip my toe back in the water, see how you're all doing? Feel free to tell me if you want more and feel free to make requests. I need to get back into the swing of things!

Next Part--->

Masterlist of Masterlists

It’s been two months, and he still hasn’t found you yet. Despite the nightmares and the hypervigilance, you would call that a win. It’s the longest he’s gone without finding you. Maybe he’s given up? But deep down you know that isn’t the case. You humiliated him when you ran, left in the middle of the night without a word to anyone. There would be questions from the neighbours, friends and family. He would never let a slight like that go, and you know it.  

The bell dings above the door in the diner you’ve been working at since you arrived in New York. It brings you out of your head and into the present, to see Bucky walk through the door. You hadn’t realised that it was that time in your shift, looking over to the clock to confirm that it was in fact nine at night.  

You give him a smile. A small one, but the most genuine you’ve been able to manage since running from your ex almost a year ago now. He returns a full watt smile of his own. A smile you never see him give to anyone else, but you don’t look too deeply into that considering you’ve never seen him outside of this diner.  

He sits at the bar upfront to the counter where you already have his black coffee waiting, “you fancy any food? Kitchen is closing soon”, you ask.  

“I’ll take a plate of fries if there’s any going?”, his voice sending a tiny shiver down your spine that makes your toes curl ever so slightly. You are aware of this growing attraction you have to him since he started to come in here regularly a week after you started. And you hadn’t thought about anyone like that since...well since you started your relationship with Andrew around seven years ago.  

Bucky never said much the first few times he came in. He would just nurse a few cups of coffee at night and then leave but after two weeks like that he caught you on a particularly rough day. You were in the middle of a panic attack when he jumped into action and calmed you down and stared anyone down who might have looked or said anything.  

Since then, the damn broke and while you may have not told him about your ex, you both shared some personal titbits that would probably qualify you as friends rather than acquaintances. And ever since that time you told him you hadn’t had time for a break or a bite to eat, he orders fries and makes you share with him. He feigns that the portions are too big, and he needs your help to finish them off, but you know better. You don’t say otherwise, you’re grateful either way.  

When you place the fries in front of him, he asks, “busy tonight?”  

You shake your head as you pop a fry into your mouth, “not really. It’s always quiet on a Tuesday. How was your day? Save anyone today?”  

Bucky rolls his eyes at you. You had no idea who he was when he first came in. And Bucky still had to spell out who he was and why people stared at him in the diner. You were vaguely aware of superheroes, but Andrew kept you rather sheltered so you never knew who they were or the politics of them all.  

Bucky grabs the ketchup and squirts some on your side of the plate and some on his, “no missions today. You know I’m gone for a while when I am.”  

You sigh, because yes you do know he’s gone for a while when he has missions and its usually the longest days or sometimes weeks without him coming in every day.  

You shrug, “I don’t know, there was that time you saved someone from a car explosion on your way here.”  

You smirk as he groans at the mention of his heroics, “that was one time! I can’t believe that even showed on the news.”  

You throw a fry at his face, “I can’t believe I had to find out from the news! You didn’t say a word the entire time you sat here.”  

You laugh as you see a familiar blush creep up from his neck and blooms on his sharp cheeks, “I didn’t think it was a big deal”, he mumbles out.  

Someone walks in through the door, the familiar bell ringing. You walk from behind the counter as they take a seat at a booth. You squeeze Bucky’s shoulder as you pass by and murmur, “everything you do is a big deal to me.”  

You don’t wait for his reply or even a reaction as you head over to the couple talking quietly. You take their order and head over to the back and shout through to Kevin, “hey Kev, you got time for one more food order?”  

He pokes his head from the back, “sure thing”  

You pass him the slip and turn back to Bucky about to say something when a smash comes from the kitchen. You duck. No time to think, your body reacts on instinct, preparing for the worst while try to dodge the inevitable violence that is always directed at you.  

You stay crouched on the floor frozen in place, trapped in your mind at a time when you burned dinner for Andrew, and he threw places and cups all around the kitchen. Curled up on the floor, arms over your head trying to stop any shards from catching your face. You had to pick a few from your arms when he finally calmed down and left to go to the bar.  

Warm hands reach out to hold your face steady. You didn’t know your body was shaking until those hands held your face. So gentle in their touch you know they can’t be Andrew’s. You peek your eyes open and see beautiful, plump lips moving, forming shapes that should come out as words, but you don’t hear anything. Just rushing in your ears.  

It isn’t until your eyes glide up to the steel blue of Bucky’s that you let the air back into your lungs, the roaring subsiding until you hear his quiet murmurs, “you’re here, you’re safe with me. Come back to me.”  

Bucky feels you return to yourself more as your eyes dart around and your hands come to grip his tightly which are still holding your face. You manage a strangled, “I’m sorry” before your throat closes again.  

Bucky shakes his head, “nothing to apologise for.” 

When your whole body stops shaking, Bucky guides you back to a standing position. You glance over the counter, and no one is looking. They had no idea that your whole world suddenly came to a stop. No idea that you practically broke down over a broken plate in the kitchen.  

Bucky pulls your gaze back to his, “you with me?”  

You nod slowly, still not trusting your voice.  

Kevin puts the plates of food down on in the window without even looking before heading back to the kitchen. You reach out, your hands still shaking to take the plates but Bucky captures your hands with his. He links them for a few moments before placing them back at your sides. He takes the plates and heads over to the table you took the order from and delivers them with the fakest smile you’ve ever seen on his face.  

His false cheeriness is what starts to bring you back to yourself as you raise your eyebrows at his return, “why don’t you ever greet me like that?”  

He laughs, his head tipping back as he takes his seat again, “because you’re special.”  

“That’s what you say to all the girls”, you reply.  

And just like that the incident is gone. Not forgotten though, you don’t miss the way Bucky watches you more closely, the corners of his mouth set slightly lower now that he’s reminded of how broken you really are. He doesn’t ask, and you’re grateful for that. You’re not ready to talk about the monster that you try pretending doesn’t exist. But you never forget either.  

Bucky stays with you for the rest of your shift. He stands behind you like a bodyguard as you lock up the diner at one in the morning, just when the clubs really start getting busy. He makes a point to walk you all the way back to your apartment building and you don’t miss the frown he always gives it.  

You bump his arm with your shoulder, “it's not as bad as it looks, you know.” 

His face scrunches up, “if you say so. Still don’t like the thought of leaving you here though.”  

You bump into him again with a small smile, “careful Buck, some people might think you’ve gone soft.” 

You see his mouth twitch upwards as he replies, “only for some people.” 

You stare into the eyes that are staring back at you. You can feel them trying to tell you something, but you can’t quite understand. Or maybe you don’t want to because it doesn’t make sense. Someone like you doesn’t get to be happy, someone like you doesn’t get someone like him. You’ve never been that lucky.  

A horn blare down the street, as people whoop from the windows. It breaks the spell as you both turn to look with a small chuckle.  

“I better get inside, I’m beat.” You tell him as you point to your building.  

Bucky clears his throat, “Uh, yeah, definitely. I might be gone for a couple of days. A few things I need to take care of but I’m back on your day off...fancy hanging out?” 

The question almost trails off, but his stare remains intense. It dries up your throat as you open it and close it like a fish for a few moments.  

“It’s okay if you had plans, I just thought it might be nice to do something outside the diner and-”  

“I’d love to.”  

“And I was thinking we could- wait, really?” He looks to you as if he’s waiting for the punchline and it makes your heart ache.  

You give him a warm smile, “I’d love to do something. Despite being here for a few months, I haven’t seen much of New York so will be nice to get out with someone that knows it well.”  

His face splits in two to let out a huge smile, “Okay...okay, I’ll text you when I’m back?” 

You give him a nod and a shy smile, “yeah, sounds good. Goodnight Bucky.”  

His smile is so wide you don’t think he’ll be able to get any words out, so you turn and walk into your building, only glancing back once the elevator doors open to see him still stood there, smiling.  

#bucky x reader #bucky barnes #bucky x you #bucky fanfic #james bucky buchanan barnes #the winter soldier #bucky #bucky x y/n #bucky x female reader #bucky masterlist #bucky fic #bucky fluff #bucky fandom

[99zurins]

summary: wonwoo knows a lot, especially how your thoughts get into your head. when he knows you had a bad week, he wants to shower you with the gentle love you always give him when his thoughts get into his head.

note: god its been ages since i posted but alas!! this was a request for a friend of mine, and it helped me get out of my writing slump. enjoy <3

pair: f!reader x jeon wonwoo

tags: soft bf!wonwoo, SMUT (minors dni), communication during sex, kink exploration, spit, slight choking, dirty talk, slight degradation, multiple positions (sorta), safe sex, oral (both m. and f. receiving), fingering (f. receiving), orgasm denial, edging, pet names (wonwoo calls reader baby, sweetheart, good girl, princess), soft dom!wonwoo, reader goes into subspace, wonwoo takes care of reader, reader works at a clinic

word count: 6.9k

[ wonu : babe

wonu: how are you feeling? ]

like shit, you want to text him. i’m not ok. so much, too much, is happening all at once your brain doesn’t know what to process first. it’s been like this from monday morning: you were short-staffed because three co-workers got sick, people kept complaining about the wait times, what could you do, you just work here. tuesday to thursday was absolute hell: how does someone mess up inventory TWICE? your co-worker doesn’t know shit. how did she get hired anyway! you don’t want to even think about friday’s disaster. you called in sick today, because fuck the clinic, and made sure you swapped your closing shift at the bookstore with someone else. your head is in chaos, all while managing a terrible migraine.

from the tylenol, the long naps, to the drops of essential oil on your pillow– none of it isn’t even helping.

you haven’t spoken to your boyfriend for a few days, there’s the i love yous, occasional memes or cat pics he sends, but it’s been quiet. he’s been busy too, he got hired by a better design company, meaning better schedules and much well-deserved salary, and has been finishing up his last few shifts on his secondary job at a milk tea shop. but since he’s one of the long time workers at the shop, he’s been busy training newbies to replace him, hence why he’s been awake earlier than you, and comes home so late. you know he’s home when he quietly slips into bed after a shower, snuggling you from behind, holding your small frame. but you miss the cuddles when you play games together, the shared silence with him, looking at dumb cat videos. everything about him, really, you miss. even though you live with him now.

[wonu: are you at your bookstore job tonight?]

you first tell a truth: you called in sick for both of your jobs. then, you lie, saying your friend-slash-coworker is coming over to talk about stuff.

[wonu: don’t lie to me

wonu: babe

wonu: i know you had a bad week]

it was just busy, you respond. you’re busy, baby. you’re probably tired too. we can talk about this later.

[wonu: i’m not ever tired when it comes to you

wonu: i’m gonna leave work right now

wonu: idc]

you feel tears well up. you not replying back is all he needs to know.

wonwoo shows up in twenty minutes, holding a bag of takeout, bubbletea, and a cute stuffed animal. you wondered how on earth did he get here so fast, considering it takes him about thirty-five minutes to get to back home, but you’re too tired to say anything. all he does is give you a hug, plant a soft kiss on your head, and you try really hard not to cry. he does the thing where he scratches softly under your chin, like how he usually would greet a cat, while your head leans into his chest.

“hi baby,” wonwoo finally speaks, giving you a soft smile. it fades when his cold fingertips linger around your cheekbones, and stops below your dark circles. “long week?”

“mm.” you try to pretend everything is okay. he knows you aren’t. he places more gentle kisses between your eyes and on the bridge of your nose.

“was hoping you would tell me, actually.” wonwoo quietly locks the front door, takes off his shoes, and you quickly scramble to find him some house sandals that would fit him. “baby, it’s okay, I don’t need slippers. none of them fit me, remember?”

wonwoo doesn’t wear the house slippers because the five house pairs are all yours. you insist on getting him a pair, he always refuses. you cough out a laugh, and you hear wonwoo giggle.

“right, i forgot, sorry,” you mumble. “what food did you get?”

“i got you your favourite,” pho from the restaurant where you had your first date with him in. it’s his favourite, too, “i got us a matcha cake slice and a strawberry one to share, too.” cakes from the cafe on the third date.

you nod quietly, and you watch him leave the takeout on the table. he pulls out a container (which is most likely the cakes), and grabs the two plastic forks.

“wonwoo, i’m not…” hungry, you trail off, you weren’t in the mood to eat, but wonwoo looks over at you, with such tenderness. his black turtleneck hugs his torso nicely, square glasses makes him look like a nerd, when did he get a haircut? and he looks over at you, attentive and with endearment. sometimes you wonder how you deserved him. “i’m…”

wonwoo finishes putting the takeout on the table, and approaches you with quiet steps. he cocks his head to the side, a motion to tell you come here, love, and you take a few steps closer, fiddling with the sleeves of the navy oversized sweatshirt (which belongs to wonwoo).

“how can i be here for you, baby?” he pulls you closer, rubbing small circles on your scalp with his thumb. you don’t really respond, but all you do is plant your face straight to his chest, wrapping your arms around his frame. you feel a low chuckle erupt from his chest. “baby, i’m not sure how my chest is… supportive enough.”

“well, they’re bigger than mine! it’s comfy!” you whine quietly, and wonwoo laughs at your answer. he embraces you, slightly moving side to side.

“i do want an answer, if you’re able to tell me.”

“um,” you hum, looking up to him, while he still scratches your head. “i kind of just want to cuddle… tell me about your new hires, or show me dumb videos of mingyu and seungkwan being stupid again, i really don’t wanna think about what this shitty week has done to me.”

“okay, we can do that.” he hums, and scoops you up, holding you like a sack of rice.

“why are you holding me like this.”

“i wanna open the door.”

“i…” you suddenly remember the bowl of pho sitting on the table. “wait, wonwoo, the pho–”

“we have a microwave.”

“i can walk to put it away first!”

“i wanna spoil you, princess. you deserve something good. no need to think about anything.”

you feel your brain go sideways.

“… okay.” you mumble, kissing the side of his head, ignoring the heat flushing in your cheeks, and the faded pink tint in wonwoo’s ears.

wonwoo puts you on the bed, and wraps you in a blanket burrito after a little cute protest and some kisses, telling you to wait while he quickly freshens up. you feel like you’re gonna fall off the bed, why did your boyfriend put you by the edge of the bed? idiot. after showering, he changes to a comfortable black muscle tee (gifted by soonyoung) and gray sweatpants. when he returns to the bedroom, he turns on the lampshade before shutting off the main light in the bedroom. he goes back by the bed, and unrolls you out from the blanket burrito, giggling as you find yourself rolling towards the middle of the bed.

“wonwoo, what the fuck,” you find it so silly, you’re trying to contain your laughter but it’s not working. you feel wonwoo climb up on the bed, and wonwoo seems like he’s having fun removing (more like unrolling) you out of the blanket. wonwoo starts pressing a few of your pressure points gently, making you giggle even more. “what are you, FUCK, that tickles, STOP THAT!”

“noooo,” wonwoo sounds like a child, and pushes off the final part of the blanket off your body. you’re laughing loudly on the bed, as wonwoo carefully pulls you up but you feel limp from laughing. he helps you sit up in front of him, and you think he’s finished with his confusing act, but he grabs the blanket, wraps you both in it, proceeds to embrace you close, and accidentally manhandles you, him hitting the bed while you’re on top of him. “oh, this wasn’t what i planned to do.”

“what?” you ask him. “manhandle me?”

“yeah, i got too excited, i’m sorry, baby.”

“well, if it makes you feel better,” you trace shapes on his cheekbones with your finger. “i liked it. had no thought in my head, just vibes.”

“mm,” wonwoo just hums, lightly patting your butt. a hand rests behind his own head, inadvertently flexing, and you mindlessly trace the healed floral ink that wraps around his bicep. “one of the new hires likes fruits basket, it reminded me of you.”

“WHAAAAAT?” you look at him with excitement gleaming in your eyes. you slap his chest lightly. “tell me more, tell me more!”

“well, she has a tattoo of kyo’s bracelet and named her pet hamster after yuki.” wonwoo says, playing with your hair. wonwoo started watching the series for you, although he hasn’t finished yet. “although she likes kuroo?”

“oh! kureno.”

“is he a bad person?” he likes to know what’s he in for at times, so some spoilers are okay.

“he falls in love with a minor.”

“oh.”

“yeah, it’s gross,” you sigh as you feel wonwoo massage your scalp. “oh that’s nice, by the way, did your manager allow you to take the cat apron?”

“i can’t. jihoon sucks.”

“boooo! he sucks.”

“my baby can always embroider me one, right?”

“i crochet, not embroider!”

“same idea!”

“no its not!” you pinch his nose. his nose scrunches up, and he tries to playfully bite your fingers. you pinch him even harder, and you giggle over his over exaggerated expression of pain. “i should really finish making that cat hat for you.”

“take your time, baby,” he kisses the tip of your fingers. “don’t stress on it. oh, speaking of which, jihoon sent me footage of seungkwan and mingyu tripping during close yesterday. i don’t know why you find it amusing to see them struggle.”

“because they’re so funny together,” you laugh, as wonwoo uses a free hand to grab his phone on the nightstand. he opens it and scrolls, looking for the video. you turn your head, listening to his steady heartbeat. the scent of his lavender bodywash is faint. it lingers. “besides, mingyu complains about his antics with seungkwan to me at the clinic sometimes.”

“ah, not surprised.”

wonwoo opens the video, and since it is security footage, it’s muted. the quality is grainy. it’s a bit blurry. as wonwoo lightly taps a tune on the small of your back, you watch with curious eyes. seungkwan is mopping, while mingyu is seen refilling the containers with straws and wooden utensils. it doesn’t look much, but you see seungkwan tell mingyu something, but his footing is awkward, causing him to slip on the wet floor. seungkwan doesn’t fall on the ground, and mingyu is laughing at him, throwing his head back in amusement. mingyu suddenly slips backwards, falling on his side, and a bunch of straws fall on the floor. seungkwan looks like he’s gonna cry so much from laughing too hard. someone else (it looks like vernon) appears from the corner and stares at mingyu, whose still on the floor. he leaves. you and wonwoo snort loudly, you shutting your eyes hard because it’s too funny. he locks his phone and puts it back on the nightstand, stroking your head while you continue to laugh.

“god, they’re so stupid,” you shake your head. “how does jihoon deal with them?”

“he tries not to.” wonwoo halfly jokes, scrunching up his nose. you snicker. “at least they get the job done, and jihoon will be less stressed.”

“hopefully the new hires don’t fuck up.”

“i made sure they won’t.” wonwoo says, looking at you with endearment. you can’t help but move up, and kiss him. he smiles into the kiss, even taking a hold of your face as you pepper him with soft kisses. “you’re being more adorable today.”

“well, i feel like i miss you a lot more lately,” you lightly push his glasses up. “even though i see you everyday, i don’t know, it’s different this time.”

“how so?”

you still don’t want to think about the disaster the week has been. but you want your heart to be open. steady.

“sometimes, i forget i’m not alone,” you tell him. his attentive gaze never leaves your face. “and that i don’t have to… i don’t have to burden everything all at once. and i’m sorry if i feel like i’m not relying on you.”

“baby,” wonwoo cups your face and squishes your cheeks. you inadvertently let out a laugh. “don’t be sorry. please don’t ever be.”

“i know, but i…”

“you’re very important to me.” he strokes your cheekbone. “i am always here. i’m sorry if i appeared… distant lately. you don’t deserve that.”

“it’s okay, woo. i’m just overthinking.”

“it’s not…” he whispers, face softening. “you had a bad week, and me being busy isn’t an excuse to make sure my baby is okay. like i said, you’re very important to me, and the love you give me makes me so happy. i love you so much.”

“i love you so much too, wonwoo… how did i deserve you?” you feel your heart swell, and the urge to cry comes. “sometimes i wonder about that.”

“you deserve everything. and i’ll make sure i can give everything to you.”

“then…” you trail off, going quiet for a moment. wonwoo watches you, and you raise yourself up, adjusting yourself to almost straddle his lap. “can you…”

“hm?”

“can you take care of me?” you whisper, tugging the hem of his shirt. you swallow the embarrassment down, reminding yourself that it’s okay. “please?”

it seems like a desperation from you, but wonwoo knows you best. you know that he’ll always and will take care of you with utmost tenderness and gentle love. but sometimes, just barely, or just too often, you question yourself how (and why) you deserve him. you already thought the shared kiss under the stars a few years ago was something he’d forget easily. but the nerd he is, he’ll plant constellations upon constellations of kisses across your body, (as if you’re the universe herself), and ask you to guess which constellation it is. on your anniversary, he’ll always kiss the libra constellation on you because that’s the one you both saw under that fated starry night. (although, he loves kissing the pisces constellation on your body. a lot).

wonwoo gazes upon you, eyes brimming with gentleness, and he carefully sits up, motioning you to move closer to him. his hands rest on your hips, his right thumb stroking your hip. your arms reach out to him, as they wrap slowly around his neck.

“how would like me to take care of you?” he whispers so low, leaning in close, his lips brushing against yours, his right hand going up to play with your sweatshirt, sending a chill down your spine.

“however you want.”

wonwoo pulls you in for a kiss, holding the back of your neck, while his left hand slips under your shorts, lightly caressing the back of your thigh. his tongue teases the roof of your mouth, causing you to let out a small whine, as his left hand takes a hold of your ass, occasionally squishing it.

“do you want me to continue?” wonwoo breathlessly says in between wet kisses. while he fiddles with the hem of your sweatshirt, you nod in response. “words, baby.”

“yes, please.”

“what do you want?”

you and wonwoo are no stranger to sex, but compared to your friends, you and him are considerably on the more… calmer side of things. and thats okay, it’s normal! everyone is different. tonight, however, feels different. even with his constant reassurance, little kisses of i’m here for you, and delicate whispers, you want wonwoo to…

“if you could help me not overthink, that’ll be great,” you feel yourself flush red, looking down at the end of his shirt, fiddling with it. “if you, uh, know what i mean.”

“oh.” wonwoo sighs when your fingers slip under his shirt and ghost over his chest. he’s figured what you meant. “are you sure?”

“as long as you fuck me, make me feel good,” you mumble, feeling yourself grind against him, kissing him wetly. “i could care less how you do it.”

wonwoo hisses at the pressure, and stares at you, a glint of lust and admiration starting to shine through, all while playing with the band of your shorts. he brings up a hand near your face, and pulls you in for another kiss, tongue toying with yours, and when you whine, he sucks the tip of your tongue.

“remember our safe word, baby?”

“kohyangi,” you breathe out, thinking about the cute cat cafe you both went to last year, while wonwoo kisses red blooms on your neck.

“how far do you want me to…”

“how we usually are, but i wanna see you try,” you stop wonwoo from kissing your neck, and you bring him to your face, letting him kiss you more. “you can be a little rougher tonight.”

“fuck, you’re gonna be the end of me.” he gently flips you over, carefully laying you down on the bed, lips never leaving yours until he briefly parts to remove his glasses. putting them on the nightstand clumsily, he comes back for your lips, and you melt against him. through his relentless teasing and his tender touches against you make your head spin. he kisses a little harder, a little more desperate, hands starting to roam around your frame, arms caging you– an underlying message that he isn’t going anywhere, and that he belongs to you, you are his, and that you are deserving of everything. a curious hand slips under your shirt, feeling your bare chest. his other hand toys with the band of your shorts, mumbling if it’s okay to take them off, and he swiftly removes them when you give him a ‘yes’.

“oh, this is pretty,” wonwoo compliments your underwear. it’s a baby blue thong. he takes off his shirt, tossing it somewhere in the room. “they new?”

“um, uh, yes? they were on sale… good deal, too…” you suddenly feel yourself shrink, turning red. you stare at his toned muscles, and you see a satisfied smirk on wonwoo’s face, eyes turning lustful. he pushes the sweatshirt high enough for your chest to be exposed to the air, never breaking eye contact until he swoops down, and starts planting kisses, tongue teasing your nipple, and occasionally biting at some places. “i bought a bunch since… kinda wanted to try wearing these… for you.”

you see wonwoo’s ears turn pink, and feel yourself crawling into a hole.

“aw, cute, my princess wants to treat me.” your brain screams. wonwoo kisses over the healed ink near your hip.“they look great on you, makes your tattoo here even sexier.”

“are.. are you doing the andromeda constellation?” you breathe out, trying to divert his (horny) attention somewhere else. “or is it something else?”

“mmhmm, correct, that’s my good girl,” wonwoo teases and you feel yourself choke on your own spit. he starts toying with the band of your underwear, and bites a mark on the hip bone. you didn’t even realize he’s already settled in between your legs until you feel him breathe. he tongues over the bite mark, soothing it. damn, ain’t this one nice way to go out. “you’re learning so well.”

“shit,” you shyly say between your teeth.

“keep the sweatshirt on, i wanna fuck you in it.”

“good, that was the intention.” you try to counter wonwoo, and you feel yourself twitch when wonwoo presses his thumb over your clothed clit. “does it make you possessive?”

“baby, you have no idea.” he responds, hooking a finger in the band of your thong.“may i?”

you nod at him, and he slowly peels off your underwear. as you slightly raise your hips so he can easily pull them off, he’s awkward with it, making you remove it instead. wonwoo clicks his tongue in slight annoyance. all you do is just smile at him, slipping them off with ease. you sit up (just a bit) to toss them somewhere on the bed or floor, and you don’t realize wonwoo is incredibly close to your pussy until you adjust your positioning. your breath hitches when he breathes.

“hm?” he starts to tease, kissing around the area and the lower stomach, but doesn’t do anything. “you’re pretty down here.”

“babe, please,” you try to sound exasperated but he plants the softest kiss on your clit and you almost collapse your arms. “just nervous, that’s all, even though we’ve done this a lot…”

“it’s okay, baby, i don’t blame you, i get nervous too,”wonwoo murmurs, and he can’t help it but he finds himself licking his lips. “may i eat you out?”

“yes, please.”

he first lightly swipes his tongue from the entrance to the clit, and he does it again, and again, and again, as you let out a soft noise the more he does it. he kisses your clit, and licks it, tongue flicking it a few times, doing a circular motion, and you sigh out a moan, hand resting on the crown of his head. he briefly pauses to use his thumbs to spread you out a little more, and opens his mouth, letting drool drip down on your pussy, watching it drip down, and he goes back in with his tongue. he increases the pressure, and you whine, almost hitting your head against the headboard. he keeps up the pace, moaning against your folds whenever you do, tongue slipping inside you occasionally. he starts to get even more sloppy, messy– making wet noises the more he eats you out.

“my princess is being so so good, so wet,” he mumbles lowly against your folds, hearing how wet he made you, briefly pulling away to kiss your inner thighs. you whine how his finger is teasing your hole, and his lips come back to suck on your clit again. “so needy, all for me.”

“fuck, fuck, fuck,” you whine breathlessly, feeling wonwoo’s hand grip your thigh a little harder. he looks up, eyes never breaking away from yours, while his tongue slowly licks up from the entrance to your clit. he closes his eyes, relishing in the taste of you. you are sure your thigh is going to bruise, but his head is in between your legs, so it’ll be worth the bruising. “wonwoo, fuck, oh my god,”

“mm, fuck, so sweet,” he mumbles against your pussy. a finger slips inside you, slowly moving back and forth. the bed slightly shakes, and you see that he’s lightly grinding against the sheets, in desperation for some relief. you sigh at the sight, trying to stifle a moan as he puts more pressure with his tongue. “baby, go ahead, be louder.”

“its, fuck, embarrassing! holy shit,” you respond back a little louder, body arching when wonwoo adds another finger and grazes that sweet spot inside. you feel wonwoo pin down your hips with his other hand. “so, fuck, so, so good.”

“good,” wonwoo coos. “how bad do you wanna come?”

“so bad, fuck, fuck, oh my god,” your brain feels dizzy. “please wonwoo, please.”

wonwoo hums, continuing to suck your clit with wet noises and fingering you good. you find yourself mumbling incoherent sentences, and you find yourself feeling a wave of relief and pleasure overtake your body, trying to breathe. you clench around his fingers, hearing wonwoo coax you through your orgasm, leaving little kisses on you of you’re doing so well for me, and my baby, baby, all mine.

“can i spit in your mouth?” wonwoo removes his mouth from you, but his fingers have slowed their movement.

“yes.” you whine at the brief loss.

“open up.” he demands softly, a wet thumb pressing against your bottom lip. you oblige, and he leans in, letting drool drip down from his mouth into yours, his fingers busy with your hole, and uses his tongue to push it in your mouth. you shut your eyes, moaning while wonwoo’s tongue meets with yours.“good girl. was that okay?”

“y-yes,” you say in between wet kisses. another finger slips inside you, making it three, while you both make out, tasting yourself against his tongue. “it was good.”

“do you want me to do it again tonight?” wonwoo slightly rolls on his side, all while fingering you and peppering your neck with more kisses.

“it was really hot but,” you moan, trying to reach the band of his sweatpants. you can see how hard he is, and how much relief he desperately needs. “i don’t know if i wanna do it again. not again tonight, if that’s okay.”

“it’s always okay, baby, thank you,” wonwoo smiles against your neck, and you really wonder how you feel horny and soft all at once. he feels your fingers tease the band of his sweatpants, almost tracing the dent against it.“oh, baby, no need to worry about me.”

“but i want to make you feel good, too,” you say softly, breaths staggering while he fingers you long and slow. “don’t want—fuck— to be the only one.”

“well,” wonwoo gazes at you, eyes half-lidded with a slight fucked out look on his face. “does my girl want to make me feel good? words, baby, i need to hear them.”

“i want to make you feel good, please.”

“how badly?”

“s-so bad,” you whine when wonwoo removes his fingers from you. rolling on top of him, you press your body against his, your fingers holding the band of his sweats. “i want to suck you off.”

“wanna show me how with my fingers?” he brings up his fingers covered in your wetness close to your lips. “how will my baby suck me off?”

“only if you let me jerk you off, too.”

“i’d love that, fuuck,” wonwoo groans when you pull down his sweats and your hand wraps over his hard dick. he’s so fucking hard. your thumb teases the tip, playing with the precum and letting your hand coat itself in it. wonwoo’s fingers slowly go in your mouth, and you swirl your tongue around them. “baby, fuck, you’re such a slut.”

“y-you’re the bigger slut,” you shyly whisper against his fingers. you help wonwoo get out from his sweatpants, leaving him naked, and you start grinding your cunt against his bare thigh. he hisses, feeling how wet you are down there, and his free hand grabs a hold of your hip. “you made me like this.”

“you’re so wet, baby,” wonwoo sighs, pulling you in for a kiss, sighing when you jerk him off slowly. as you slightly pick up the pace, thumbing the slit, wonwoo’s hand reaches from behind to play with your hole. you quickly pull away to let a trail of spit go down his cock for some lubrication, and wonwoo throws his head back, groaning, when you jerk him off faster. “fuck, that’s my girl, go ahead, suck me off.”

“and you’re calling me the slut,” you mumble. you hear wonwoo laugh against your lips, until you feel his hand lightly slap your ass. you sigh at the pain, wonwoo rubbing the reddenning spot. “wow, kinky, are we?”

“you’re cute.”

“you like it.”

“you’re so– oh, fuck,” wonwoo feels his breathing stagger when you slide down, your tongue teasing the tip. you look up, trying hard to maintain eye contact, all while holding his thick cock with your hand (you forget how thick he is, you can barely wrap your hand around it completely) and giving it kittenish licks, before wrapping your lip around the tip. you make a few wet sucking noises, before spitting down on his cock for more lubrication. “fuck, baby, can you take all of me?”

“i haven’t even done anything yet,” you continue to trail your tongue along the veins and stroke him at the girth, and he moans— you feel yourself clench around nothing, wanting to hear more of it. “wanna tell me what should i do?”

“d-do as you please.” he groans out your name, cursing under his breath, and strokes your head as you continue to suck him off. not only does he love it when he ensures you’re vocal about what you want, he loves it when you ask him what he wants. being communicative is something he prioritizes so much (in general, obviously). and during times like these, communication is so so sexy.

you look at him, eyes signaling am i doing good for you?, and wonwoo bites his lip, enthralled by the sight. he really, really, can’t wait to ravish you.

“oh, holy fuck,” his thoughts get slightly interrupted when he feels his cock almost hit the back of your throat. feelings mixed with surprise and arousal that overwhelm him, he bites his lip to avoid a moan slipping out, wrapping his own hand around the base and presses it, edging himself. “oh, fuck, baby, you don’t have to take everything in.”

“b-but,” you remove your mouth from him, a slick pop sound coming out, as a trail of spit and come stick on your mouth. you still use your hands to jerk him off, looking at him with glossed eyes. “i wanna make you feel good.”

“you already are, baby,” wonwoo hitches his breath when you put your mouth back on his cock, a finger trailing your jaw. “but i’m the one who was suppose to fuck you til you can’t think, right? do you still want that, sweetheart?”

“uh-huh,” you mumble. “i-i do.”

“come here, then,” wonwoo encourages you to come up, licking your mouth. he runs a tongue on the roof of your mouth, as you moan while his hand plays with your hole again. “i taste good, don’t i?”

“mmhmm,” you reply against his lips, and wonwoo easily slips two fingers inside you again. he sucks on your bottom lip, fingering you faster, and you find yourself instinctively riding his fingers, moans getting more desperate as his other hand takes a hold of your hip and helps you ride his fingers. “fuck, fuck, fuck, i’m gonna cum again, oh my god, your fingers are so good, woo.”

“that’s it, baby,” wonwoo says, adding in a third finger. you feel his thumb press again your clit. “come for me again, sweetheart.”

you ride out your second orgasm of the night. although it’s not as intense as the first, it feels more of like a softer wave holding you close. wonwoo kisses your neck and collarbones, whispering you praises and love notes as he helps you finish.

“please fuck me already,” you whine into the kiss, and wonwoo starts playing with the hem of your sweatshirt. “wonwoo, please, i want you…”

“patience, baby,” wonwoo whisper in your ear, and you feel his hand go up and down your back. “i’ll take care of you as long as you like me to. can you go on your hands and knees for me, baby?”

“can we kiss first?”

“of course, baby.”

you’ll never get sick of kissing wonwoo, ever. you find how you melt into each other’s warmth, comfort, and love— and how he feels like home, the hugs on rainy days, the shared smiles— you adore how his kisses are reminders of i’m always here and love letters, how much he loves you- all of you—

wonwoo shifts when you move onto the position, him moving his hand down your back. he asks if its okay if he can lift up your hips a little higher, and says good girl when you follow his instruction.

“can i…?” wonwoo asks, raising your hips up, so your ass is sticking up in the air. “can i fuck you holding one of your arms behind your back?”

“holy fuck,” you whisper, looking at him, a part of your face squished by the pillow. you and wonwoo aren’t that experimental, but this… is something. “if that will help you fuck me so hard til i can’t think, then okay.”

wonwoo slows his movements, and stares at you.

oh.

oh.

oh, fuck, that’s hot.

“well, if you say so,” he leans over, tilts your head to give you a kiss, before opening the drawer to grab a condom. “you’re gonna kill me.”

“at least fuck me first.” you joke, and wonwoo chuckles at that, pushing up your sweatshirt to expose your back. he kisses down your spine, and you hear the rustle of the condom wrapper. wonwoo adjusts your body, and you almost feel like a cramp coming on, but it’s okay—

“ready, baby?” wonwoo asks lowly. you nod against the pillow. “words, sweetheart. may i have your hand?”

“mm, yeah, i’m ready, are you?” you put your hand around your back, and you feel wonwoo’s hand wrap around your wrist.

“yeah, i’m putting it in,” wonwoo says, and you feel the tip prod against your entrance, and you bite back a moan before he slowly inserts himself in. you squeeze your eyes shut, gasping against the pillow, remembering to take deep breaths. you need a moment to adjust, but the stretch alone feels wonderful. “you okay?”

“y-yes,” you exhale. “fuck, i feel all of you, so, so much.”

“fuck, you’re so tight.” wonwoo groans, slowly bottoming out. “need a moment?”

“yeah.” you let yourself adjust to his cock, as wonwoo rubs your back (his way of helping you relax). a minute passes, and you start to feel good, inadvertently moving your hips back to his. wonwoo moans, and it encourages you to move faster against him. “f-fuck, oh my god, please fuck me, you’re so big—”

wonwoo finds himself moving his hips fast, a hand gripping your hip, the other pinning your wrist behind your back, as you gasp on how loud, wet, and hard he’s going. as hard and fast-paced his thrusts are, it remains concise and controlled. you hear him groan the more he thrusts into you, and you briefly look back at him, seeing him fling his head back in pleasure. god, it feels so good, the sounds of skin slapping grow louder, breathing out of sync, you feel so full, so fucking full, your head is starting to get dizzy—

your senses come back when wonwoo slows his pace, and you whine, tightening around him as a means to get him to move.

“nuh-uh, don’t come just yet,” wonwoo tuts, shallowly thrusting in you. “i’m not done with you.”

“w-what, fuck! oh my god, please go harder,” you tell him, feeling drool come out from your mouth, and wonwoo lets go of your hand, gently placing it above your head.

“so, so, impatient,” wonwoo slaps your ass, watching you fuck yourself on him. he continues to let you fuck yourself on him, his frame swooping down so he can whisper. “so needy for my cock, hm? didn’t know my baby is such a needy, little slut. look at you fucking yourself on me. i haven’t even fucked you stupid yet, and look at you being so needy for me. my baby is such a cute little whore.”

“wonwoo, please move,” you breathe, looking at him with glossy eyes. wonwoo continues to stare at you with lust and endearment, all while shallowly fucking into you. “i want you so much, ahhhh fuck, please, please.”

“hm? what was that?” wonwoo coos, and you whine even more. you feel like crying. wonwoo rubs his hands down your side. “oh, baby, it’s okay, i’ll give you want you want. wanna tell me what you want?”

“y-you, please.”

“just me?”

“want you to fuck me til i can’t think.”

“that’s it?”

“wanna be y-your cute little whore for you.”

and that’s all it takes for wonwoo to remove himself out from you. you wince at the loss of him, as you feel tears in your eyes, but he steadily grabs you, flipping you on your back. he pumps himself, spitting on his fingers and they go down to your pussy, playing with your clit with his thumb and wraps your legs around his waist.

“keep your legs wrapped for me, okay?” he says, using his long fingers to play with you. “can you do that for me?”

“yes,” you nod, and wonwoo peppers soft kisses around your neck and face. “wonwoo?”

“mm, baby?”

“can you spit in my mouth again?”

“oh, fuck, yes,” it catches wonwoo off guard and you find it cute how flustered he got. “i can, yeah.”

“good,” you nudge his back with your leg, telling him to start moving.

“ready?”

“mmhm- ah, fuck!” you nod, but wonwoo slips inside easily, holding onto your hips hard, fucking you at a hard, controlled pace. “oh my god, fuuuck, fuck!”

wonwoo smiles, watching your expressions change accordingly. he takes in all of your noises, expressions, all of you, how you ask to go faster, how you’re trying to fuck back too, how you’re willing to make it good for both of you. wonwoo takes a hold of your hand, putting it above your head. he gets caught off guard when you put your other hand up, and wraps his hand around your wrists, pinning them against the sheets.

“fuck, baby, you’re so tight, your pretty pussy loves taking me in, hm?” wonwoo whispers, and his free hand creeps up on your neck, but doesn’t add pressure on it. “open up.”

you oblige, and you feel him twitch. you tighten in instinct, as he lets spit drip down from his mouth to yours, and sticks his tongue in your mouth to push it in again. you moan at that, eyes going shut, all while wonwoo fucks harder and harder and harder. you feel nothing running in your brain, it feels numbing, feels exhilarating, you just feel yourself get lost into the pleasure and the praise wonwoo kisses on your skin. you numbingly hear him say words and words of i love you, can’t believe you are all mine, fuck you’re too good for me, come for me, your senses get blurred out, like your feeling everything all at once, and you don’t know when but you feel yourself unravel, coming undone as wonwoo finishes too, hips stuttering.

“baby…” wonwoo sighs against your lips, hands cautiously rubbing your sides, while putting his body weight against yours. “come back to me.”

“mmrgh?” you make a weird noise, feeling warm and a little light-headed. you hear wonwoo telling you to take deep breaths, and you use your hands to hold onto his shoulders. kisses and kisses and kisses of you did so well scatter across your skin like a cluster of stars, as wonwoo strokes your head with a comforting touch. “wonwoo?”

“m’ here baby, i’m right here,” he says, carefully slipping out from inside you after he softens. “i’m here, are you here?”

“yeah, sorry,” you finally collect yourself together, staring at the ceiling. wonwoo shifts on the bed, rolling over next to you to discard the condom, and plops next to you, an arm wrapping around your waist. you look over at him, lost in his bright eyes, and fucked out glow. “you did it.”

“wha?”

“you fucked me stupid, i don’t remember thinking at all.” you laugh. wonwoo’s face turns more pink, and he grumbles into your neck, kissing a spot or two.

“was that all okay?” he asks, stroking your head with one hand, playing with your hands with the other. “we did a little experimenting tonight.”

“it was good, yes, thank you,” you tell him, stroking his cheek fondly. “kinda wanna do more of it, you know.”

“oh.”

“oh my god, don’t act like a shy boy when you fucked me with your big dick.”

“i’m…” wonwoo get even more shy, and you laugh, kissing his nose and his cheeks. “just wasn’t expecting that, that’s all.”

“is it a lot for you?”

“no, i’m glad you trust me, and that i’m able to trust you.” wonwoo says, rubbing your stomach. “we should clean up.”

“eh, i kinda wanna lay here.” you say, sort of sprawling out on the bed. you stretch your arm a little weird so it ends up across wonwoo’s body. “too tired.”

“baby, you work in healthcare. didn’t they teach you to pee after sex?”

“i work in an eye clinic!”

“well yeah! same idea! it’s still healthcare! i’m getting you to clean up.” wonwoo says, slipping out of bed and grab his sweatpants. he slips it on, and goes over to your side, but you start rolling away, not wanting to get out of bed. “baby, don’t do that.”

“i want to cuddle first,” you say, not bothering to fight back when wonwoo grabs your body to carry you to the bathroom. “i feel like jelly.”

“good, that’s what i intended,” wonwoo kisses your face when you wrap your arms around his neck. “we can cuddle after. what do you want for breakfast?”

“eggs. toast, if we have bread. do we have bread?” wonwoo shrugs . “uh, coffee? oh! and maybe fried rice.”

“you work tomorrow?” he asks. you shake your head. “good, we’ll sleep in, eat breakfast, you wanna go play stardew valley together?”

you grin, giving him a kiss.

god, you love him so fucking much.

#seventeen #seventeen imagines #wonwoo #wonwoo x reader #seventeen smut #svthub #svt x reader #zu writes #svt #seventeen fic #GOD IM BACKSJDJDJ

[jjunsolos]

11. ; the new friend

synopsis - when your best friend dahyun offers to let you stay at her house, you really can’t say no. especially with how things are at the moment. what she didn’t mention is that her little brother lives with her too…

warnings - written, profanity, mentions of food, implied jealousy. lmk if i missed anything !!

wc - 1.5k

author’s note - srry this took so long😭 this chapter is so messy imo but ive done too much to go back and redo it sooo i hope u guys enjoy anyways, srry if u dont🙏🏽😞

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(story under the cut)

(Y/n’s POV)

‘Blessed’ by Daniel Caesar plays through my headphones as I sit silently on my bus seat. The warm sun shines through the window and lays softly onto my face. My eyes start to feel heavy as the warmth of the sun calms my nerves. But as soon as my eyes start to close, I feel a tap on my right shoulder.

My eyes flutter open and I’m met with a familiar face. It takes me a second to truly process who is standing in front of me. And then it hits me…

It’s the fucking guy I bumped into.

I quickly sit up from my comfortable position and slide the headphones off my head. The guy chuckles.

“Sorry if I startled you. I just recognized you from a few days ago and decided to say hi.” he explains. I awkwardly smile, but appreciate his kindness nonetheless.

“Yeah… sorry again for bumping into you that day. I wasn’t looking but… I should’ve been.” I say guiltily. He just laughs and waves it off with his hand.

“It’s all good. Can I sit with you?” I nod and scootch over to the side, leaving him some space to sit. Once he does, he pushes his hair back with his left hand and looks at me.

“My name’s Cha Eunwoo. What’s yours?”

“Y/n, nice to meet you.”

We shake hands and continue conversating.

Eunwoo was actually really fun to talk to. He somehow managed to make every word come out of his mouth sound hilarious. His laugh is pretty admirable, too. It’s contagious and I can’t help but laugh along.

Time flew by really quickly as we continued to converse. We didn’t even realize that we’ve already reached the bakery.

“Next stop!” the driver announces. Fortunately, it’s only me and Eunwoo that have to exit the bus so we do so fairly quickly.

As the bus drives away, Eunwoo turns to me with a soft smile.

“It was nice getting to know you, Y/n. I’ll see you around!” he says. I look at him, confusion visible on my face.

“What do you mean?”

He tilts his head and his right eyebrow shoots up.

“We’re parting ways now…?” he explains. He looks just as confused as I am.

It takes me a minute to realize what he was talking about. And when I do, I smile. Ohhhh.

“Oh! We’re going to the same place, Eunwoo,” I say with a giggle, “I’m going to start working at the bakery.”

Eunwoo’s face brightens and a sound of excitement erupts from his throat. He then links my arm with his.

“Then c’mon! Let’s go together.”

I sigh as I continue rolling the dough in front of me. It’s been a few hours since I’ve started my shift and things have been going pretty well. Though, I somehow didn’t realize that baking was such hard work. I’ve rolled and kneaded so many doughs, my hands felt like they were going to snap off.

I look up at the clock above me. It’s 12:09, break time. I ding the bell on the wall, indicating that I’m taking a break. That’s when my co-worker, Delilah, walks in with a smile. Delilah is a friend I’ve made today. She’s been keeping me company while I made all the pastries. She talked to me, laughed with me, and even helped me when I needed it.

I shoot her a smile back, mouthing a quick ‘thank you’ as I make my way to the sink.

As I’m scrubbing my hands, someone walks in.

“Oh, hey Y/n!” It was Eunwoo. I smile at him as I dry my hands.

“How’s your first day going so far?” he asks.

“Pretty good! I was just about to take a break.” I explain. He smiles widely and pushes his hair back.

“So was I! …Can I join you?”

I roll my eyes playfully as I drag him to the front of the bakery, our giggles echoing through the room as I do.

Hours have passed and now my shift has ended. I slip my apron off and hang it on the hook. That’s when Delilah comes up next to me.

“You’re leaving?” she asks, a pout displayed on her lips. I giggle and nod.

“Yeah my shift’s over.”

She sighs dramatically and slumps. I chuckle at her silly behavior. She suddenly shoots up and takes her phone out from her jean pocket.

“Here, put your number in.” she says. She sticks her phone out for me to take and so I do, punching in my number.

As I’m typing in my number, I notice Delilah looking at me with teasing eyes. I recognize those eyes. Those are the eyes that Dahyun gives me when I glance at a guy for even a second. I squint my eyes at her.

“What?”

She shrugs.

“Nothing… so… you and Eunwoo.” I knew it.

I whine as she laughs, ignoring the way I’m sulking.

“We’re just friends! Just like you and I are.” I explain, typing in my contact name as ‘Y/n🧸’. She rolls her eyes.

“Whatever you say…”

I hand her phone back with a playful glare before exiting the room.

“Come back tomorrow!” she yells out behind me. I chuckle while shaking my head.

My smile fades, however, when I collide into something, causing me to fall on my ass.

“Shit- are you okay?”

Eunwoo.

I look up and I’m met with his concerned face. I’m completely fine, but I let him pull me up anyways.

The second I’m back on my feet, I swing my arm at him. A loud smack echoes through the bakery as Eunwoo’s mouth hangs open.

“OWW! What was that for?!” he exclaims, rubbing his arm with his other hand. I roll my eyes.

“Why are you always bumping into me?!” I yell. I hold my hand up as if I’m threatening to hit him again. I’m assuming it works because both his hands immediately shoot up to defend himself.

“Me?! Why are you always bumping into me!”

Eunwoo’s eyes roll as he finishes his sentence which makes me laugh. He soon joins me in my laughter.

After a few seconds, I wipe the tears that come out my eyes and sigh.

“Well I should get going, my best friend will be here anytime soon.” I say, swinging my bag onto my left arm. Eunwoo nods.

“Let me walk you out.”

Before I could even reply, he walks to the door, holding it open for me. I smile as I quickly make my way to the door.

Eunwoo and I talk as I continue to keep an eye out for Dahyun’s car. She still isn’t here.

I pull my phone out and check the time, lowkey worried. 3:56. That’s way past when Dahyun is off of work. Where is she?

“You good? You look worried…” Eunwoo asks, a soft concerned look on his face. I smile softly.

“I’m fine… my friend should be here but she’s taking forever…” I explain. I look as far down the streets as I can, hoping to spot her car. But nothing.

Eunwoo clears his throat.

“…I could give you a ride? Only if you want!” he says as his ears turn a shade of red.

“No no no! It’s okay. I’m sure she’s just running late.” I say, “I’ll shoot her a text right now.”

“Y/n it’s fine,” he says with a chuckle. The soft sound makes me look up at his face, “I’m seriously okay with driving you home! …Plus, it could give me an opportunity to get to know you better.”

Eunwoo looks shy as he says that, not even able to look into my eyes. I think for a while. It would be better to go with him right now instead of waiting on Dahyun for who knows how long. Plus, I also wouldn’t mind getting to know him better (could help me get my mind off Jungkook for a while)…

But before I can even agree, a loud honk is heard on my left. I snap my head toward the sound. Dahyun’s car!

The car doesn’t stop moving until it’s right in front of the bakery. But when the window rolls down, it’s not Dahyun in the car…

It’s Jungkook.

My eyes widen and my heartbeat accelerates as I get a good look at his face. His hair looks shorter than it did when I saw him this morning, meaning he just got a haircut. But I’m not complaining. It suits him really well. He’s wearing a white tank top with a gray sweater over it, and his tongue is poking the inside of his cheek. He doesn’t look directly at me, but that’s honestly good because holy shit,

he looks so hot.

“Who’s that?” Eunwoo whispers to me, bringing me back to reality. I look at him with a sheepish smile.

“He’s my best friend’s little brother. Got to go, bye!”

I quickly make my way to the car. The closer I get, the more I notice Jungkook’s facial expression. He kinda looks… pissed? I ignore it anyway and open the door.

“Hi, Jungkook!” I say with a smile. I buckle myself in and wait for him to say something.

“Hm.” Is all he says. I look at him confused, but he just drives off.

Weird.

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[moonpascal]

not again

summary: spiderman ends up on your fire escape…again

any peter parker x f!reader l wc: 780 (thought it was longer)

warnings: mentions of blood, 18+ reader and peter parker, language, possibly ooc, lots of dialogue, idk what else

a/n: rewrote this at least 20 times and this version i’m at least ok with more than the others. considering it’s been in my drafts forever. still new at writing and suck ass at being descriptive as i want to be. hopefully it’s enjoyable, if so leave a like, comment or reblog <3

“I really am sorry for showing up two nights in a row” Spiderman sighed.  

“Ya sure I bet you are, especially after I told you I don’t have a first aid kit or know jack shit about what I'm doing,” you grumbled. It was too late or too early—who the hell knows. All you knew was that you had work in the morning, and poorly assessing the Spiderman was not on your to-do list. 

Lightly dabbing the washcloth against the exposed areas of the suit, careful not to apply too much pressure, but no matter how delicate you were it didn't take the pain away. 

How he managed to land on your fire escape yesterday and to purposely come again tonight was beyond you. Why couldn’t he land somewhere who was a nurse or owned a damn first aid kit! Even though tonight’s assets are not as roughed up as yesterdays. From what you could see, it seems like he healed a bit.

“Just a tip, but you should learn to dodge when someone is coming at you,” you smirked trying to lighten the mood. Being up this early made you delirious when it’s this late at night; anything and everything is funny when it’s two in the morning. He must think you’re pretty funny when he huffs and his shoulders shake a bit before groaning at the movement.

“I got a tip for you and it’s pink.” Heat instantly rushes to your face, the shock evident when you pause. You quirk an eyebrow at him, “That mask confidence really gettin to you, or did you get hit in the head too many times today?”

“Bit of both, I watched this streamer guy and he said it. I’ve been itching to say it.” If he had the mask off you might think he’s smirking at you. But all you get to see is the white lens’s from the suit adjusting looking at you. 

“I’m not surprised, you seem like someone who watches streamers.” He scoffs as you start wringing out the last of the blood from what was a white cloth. There's no point in keeping it now. Sliding out of the dining chair, grabbing the bowl and littered trash accumulated around you guys.

“I do appreciate your help and that I landed on your fire escape.” 

“My sleep says otherwise. How did you end up on mine of all places in the first place?” It’s been running marathons in your head since yesterday's incident. The apartment balcony looked like everyone else’s -plain- and in between levels, not even the top floor. 

“Web snapped, ran out of web fluid last minute,” he shrugged, as if that’s the most normal thing in the world. Web fluid? Like it comes out of him- eww gross—not even gonna think about it. 

Glancing at the stove, the green glow of the clock saying it was indeed time to go back to bed. Having to be up in a few hours for a stupid meeting, that you didn’t have to be there for only to be the office bitch- which isn’t even your job- but it paid wellish. At least enough to afford this place.  

“I’m glad I could be of assistance spidey, you're welcome to my couch, but I’m going to head to bed. I have a long day tomorrow.”

He shifts in the chair before slowly standing up gripping his side. He starts limping towards the window, and groans as he opens the stubborn thing. “See you tomorrow night, my guardian angel.”

“No sir, I won’t be here tomorrow night,”you laughed. Turning all the lights off till you got close to him. You could feel his shock just staring at you even if the mask hid his expression. It’s almost too easy to read him like this. 

“And why not?” He questioned with a hint of too much sass. Popping his hip out and placing his hand there. 

“I’m started to suspect you’re getting hurt on purpose to see me,” you copy his pose with just enough dramatics. “Anyways I have a date,” you shrugged. First one in a while at that and a girl has needs that’ll hopefully be fulfilled, but it’s best not to get your hopes up too high. 

“A date? At 2 in the morning?” 

“Yeah if it ends well,” you smirk. He drops his pose before not so gracefully trying to get out the window. 

“Oh yeah makes sense, right well enjoy your date,” he stutters before slamming the window shut, enough to shake the pictures you have hanging on the wall. 

You sigh, latching the lock and trudging back to the comfort of your bed. 

#peter parker x reader #spiderman x reader #peter parker #spiderman #peter parker imagine #spiderman imagine #peter parker x you #spiderman x you #spiderman fluff #peter parker fluff

[jihyocentric]

idk if anyone has requested for the summary of dormmate!nayeon yet, but I would like to! It’s been a while since we have got an update about them🥺

thanks in advance and have a great day, lumi!

made this a filler drabble to give context to the next request for this au!

-

getting to know yeri shifted something between them. jihyo slowly realizes that nayeon has been sweeter with her, trying to redeem herself, knowing she was the reason why jihyo had to deal with that.

if only nayeon had resisted the urge to have jihyo, they wouldn’t be stuck in that situation. jihyo could’ve found someone nice. someone who would take care of her, always put her first and wouldn’t make her pretend she doesn’t know them when they’re not in between four walls.

this time, when the guilt begins to consume her, nayeon doesn’t drink. after the last time she drowned her sorrows in alcohol and everything went downhill, nayeon promised she wouldn’t do that again, resorting to less harmful things.

that included spending quality time with jihyo, and sometimes helping sana and momo out. there was an extracurricular project of which the two were volunteers, and while sana and momo were there for the money, nayeon wanted time for herself, keeping her mind busy while teaching kids the basics of basketball.

that way, she didn’t have to think about the mess that her life had become. the moments where she was alone at the dorm, waiting for jihyo to arrive, were the worst hours of her days. as long as she was away, either helping out on the project or taking classes at college, her problems would vanish.

even if temporarily, she could finally breathe.

“since we’re letting you participate, you should give us the money,” sana says when they’re leaving college. momo agrees with her. “you don’t need it! besides, if it wasn't for us you would never know about the project, and…”

“you can have it.” nayeon sighs, already sick of having the two around. they had become closer with time, and they certainly knew how to keep nayeon from thinking about her problems, but they talked too much. “can you just keep quiet?”

“that easy?!” sana blinks, confused, hugging nayeon’s shoulder with a smile on her face. “look at you, im. you’re such a good friend now.”

nayeon scoffs, offering her a halfhearted smile. momo was clueless to the whole nayeon and jihyo subject, and none of them were planning to tell her. nayeon still hates the fact that momo tries to reach jihyo, the jealousy stopping nayeon from accepting momo as a friend. sana finds it entertaining for the most part, an amused viewer.

when she gets home, nayeon feels a scent that calls for her, fresh and sugary, filling the entire dorm. jihyo leaves the bathroom with only a towel wrapped around her, and nayeon knows she will rightfully complain about what she plans to do, but she can’t help but engulf her in a hug, her front meeting jihyo’s back, her sweaty arms involving her.

“you’re late,” jihyo sighs, her hair being pulled aside, soft lips kissing her neck, a familiar gesture that made her stomach burn, anticipating everything that came next. “and sweaty.”

“i took the girls home today,” nayeon pushes jihyo’s body gently, making her walk. while she wouldn’t mind to fuck her in the hallway, right there and then, her legs ached after spending the day running on a court. “and now i’m taking you.”

jihyo’s back hits the mattress as soon as nayeon manages to undo her towel, and then she’s trapped in one of those moments where she thinks she should be saying no. meeting yeri made things become more real, the guilt close to palpable, but it feels so good, even when it’s bad.

nayeon’s kisses carried uncertainties that even the roughest touch couldn’t make jihyo understand what nayeon wanted behind the obvious lust. kisses shouldn’t feel that way — empty and hungry at the same time, and nayeon shouldn’t be silently telling jihyo she is hers when she couldn’t live up to the promise.

“about our date…” nayeon inches away, taking off her muscle tee and dropping it to the floor. “there’s a festival happening out of town this weekend, i thought i could take you there.”

jihyo takes a while to process what nayeon had told her, eyes locked on her tummy. the top part of her boxers was showing, nayeon entirely too lazy to fix it. the shirt had been covering it anyway.

“you’re taking me out of town so nobody can see us?” jihyo asks, bringing her hand to the belt around nayeon’s waist, unbuckling it easily.

“what a smart girl,” nayeon mashes her lips together, only letting out a small laugh. “there’s nothing interesting for us to do here. at least not this weekend… just thought you would like to do something different.”

it was true.

not entirely true, but it was still true. nayeon was taking her out of town because it was dangerous to walk around with jihyo when nobody knew she shared her dorm with her, but she wasn’t lying when she said there was nothing interesting to do around the town.

“too sweet, unnie.” jihyo sighs, pulling nayeon’s pants down to her thighs along with the boxers. she moans softly when nayeon’s cock springs out, hard from the moment she saw jihyo. “planning to take me to bed afterwards?”

nayeon shrugs, letting jihyo guide her inside, supporting herself on her arms as she leans into her neck, nibbling the smooth skin just slightly. jihyo was already covered in marks, and those needed time to heal without nayeon trying to give her more of them.

“obviously.” nayeon tells her, amused. “but i want us to have fun, too. just you and i,” she pulls away just barely, nose brushing against jihyo’s. “my pretty girl.”

wasting no time, nayeon starts to thrust. she had always been fond of giving jihyo a little praising, knowing what it did to her, combining them with searing thrusts that would make jihyo cry out beautifully.

nayeon keeps a hand on jihyo’s cheek tenderly, another holding her thigh, groaning at how jihyo claws at her ass under the pants, subtly asking nayeon to put it all in and go impossibly deep, her way of making nayeon hers, an arbitrary sense of accomplishment growing in her chest.

the same passion that put them in their current situation comes back stronger when they’re together like that — losing themselves together, bodies pressed against one another, fulfilling a need that would never be truly sated, drowning into each other’s mouths even when they could barely breathe, forgetting about the world outside.

despite everything, there's nothing to regret when it feels that good.

#anon #nayeon #jihyo #nahyo #dormmate!nayeon #g!p #fill

[sickficideas]

foolish || SSKK sickfic

ao3! 13.5k please refer to the tags in the link for content + warnings! sicktember 2023, day 3: "What happened to your phenomenal immune system, huh?“ + Server/Restaurant AU

Atsushi blows his nose into the last tissue he had stored in his apron, and despite his efforts to stay hidden from the one person he would prefer not to know his secrets, Akutagawa turns the corner into the hallway.

He gives him a once over, in the way a high school girl would to someone she’s about to tear into, and in that moment, Atsushi wishes he was allowed to square up with his coworkers.

“What happened to your phenomenal immune system?" Akutagawa scoffs.

"Nothing happened to it, I still have it!" Atsushi huffs. He’s glad he doesn’t sound as congested as he did this morning, but he thinks the way his voice sounds still makes it pretty obvious that he’s sick.

“Right,” Akutagawa says, before he continues on his way back down to the end of the hallway where the restrooms are.

“Ugh. I can’t stand that guy,” Atsushi grumbles to himself as he tosses his wad of tissues into the nearest bin, and he’s back on his way into the kitchen to wash his hands.

He’s never been sick at work before. He can’t recall the last time he’s been sick in general, really, but his current state is really not helping his claims of having a fantastic immune system. It hasn’t failed him until now - it’s just that time of year, he thinks. This cold has gone through a lot of other servers at the restaurant, too.

He finishes washing his hands and pulls his mask back over his nose with an exasperated groan. He can’t stand the way his snot gets caught in the mask. This is probably the sixth one he’s gone through just today, and he hasn’t even gotten to his midday break yet.

“Still holding up okay?” Kunikida asks as he passes by, an eyebrow raised.

“Oh, yeah, I’m fine,” Atsushi nods. He’s starting to get a little tired, but otherwise, all of his symptoms are more mildly annoying than anything else. It could be a lot worse.

“Alright. Let me know if you need something,” Kunikida says. He has a clipboard on him. Atsushi isn’t quite sure what he’s busy with, but as the manager, he’s never not doing something.

“Atsushi, you have A-6!” Kenji calls into the kitchen, just quick enough to get a thumbs up from Atsushi before he heads back to the host stand. Atsushi takes in a deep breath. It could be worse. He’ll just get through this shift, take his break, and then get through the next one. No big deal, it’s basically just a runny nose at this point.

Of course he’s dead wrong.

He thinks he must have a fever or something. His head feels all stuffy. He had to ask his last table to repeat their order because he forgot to put it in, and he’s never, ever done that. The kitchen feels a lot hotter than it normally is. If he does have a fever, it can’t be a bad one, but it’s enough of a nuisance that he goes to sit up on the table next to the to-go window to press the heels of his palms against his eyelids for a few moments.

“Aww, Atsushi. Can I get something for you?” Junichiro asks as soon as he closes the window. There aren’t any to-go orders left, now, since it’s so early in the afternoon.

“No, no…I’m good,” he says with a heavy sigh, dropping his hands into his lap. “Man, I…I really thought I had a good immune system.”

“Well, nobody has a perfect immune system,” Junichiro assures him. “We all get sick. And maybe this’ll teach you not to brag about it.”

The smile tells him Junichiro’s just teasing, but maybe he’s right. He’s probably cursed himself through the universe somehow.

Atsushi turns his head with a defeated sigh as he watches Akutagawa walk past him, taking something out of the kitchen to one of his tables. Akutagawa has only been working in the restaurant for two or three months, now. Their restaurant has an adjacent cafe, where Akutagawa used to work. He's not entirely sure why he came to work at the restaurant. He wishes he'd go back to the cafe.

Atsushi watches him on his way back. He's stopped at the opposite kitchen entrance by Yosano, who hands him a note with a mischievous look on her face, but before Atsushi can even consider that strange, Dazai glides into his field of vision.

“Ohh, what’s Atsushi staring at?” Dazai taunts as he walks by, pressing his cheek up against Atsushi’s like he's trying to get the exact angle. “Akutagawa? Aw, how adorable! I didn’t think you were into emo guys. I’ll go next door and put in an order for a wedding ca-”

“Dazai! Cut it out!” Atsushi whines, standing up from where he’s sitting on the table and slipping back into the kitchen. Dazai is giving him that mischievous look of his. Atsushi feels his cheeks heat up, and he’s glad their concealed by the mask, for the most part. “Don’t you have something better to do? Kunikida’s gonna burst another blood vessel if he sees you’re slacking again.”

“Unfortunately for me, nobody day-drinks any more! So I have to entertain myself in other ways,” Dazai says with an overdramatic sigh. Dazai is supposed to be behind the bar, but half of the time, he’s off doing something else. 

“Go easy on him, Dazai. He’s not feeling well today,” Junichiro says with a pout.

Dazai mirrors his pout, but just before he can make a silly comment, Kunikida walks by and glares him down. He’s frozen for a moment, but Kunikida takes his wrist and pulls him back to where he’s supposed to be. Kunikida isn’t particularly strict about them chatting, but he seems to be annoyed enough with Dazai today.

At least he’ll be off Atsushi’s back for now.

Atsushi is tempted to ask Kenji to give the next table to someone else, but he doesn’t have the heart to. He needs the money, anyway.

He finds himself sitting in the corner of the walk-in freezer not long after he puts in his new table’s order. It’s far too hot in the kitchen, and while he felt much better in here for a minute or two, he’s starting to feel shivers run up his spine. He’s getting really tired, but he’s too uncomfortable to think about sleeping right now.

He sees the door start to open. Kunikida probably found him. He scrambles to stand up and straighten out his apron, but when he looks up, it’s -

"Go on your break," Akutagawa tells him with a huff.

"Since when do you call the shots around here?" Atsushi grumbles, Akutagawa closes the door behind him to stop the hot hair from coming in.

"You're clearly exhausted. Go take your break early and I'll take over your section," Akutagawa reiterates. "No one needs you here taking up space if you're at fifty percent. Especially in the freezer."

Atsushi is beyond annoyed with him, but he understands the sentiment. He’s been making mistakes with his tables and slacking, it’s probably better if he goes on his break early to recuperate.

“Well? Which tables are yours?” Akutagawa asks.

“I just have F-2 left,” Atsushi mumbles.

“Alright. Don’t come back until five,” Akutagwa says, already on his way out of the freezer. Atsushi glares at him until he leaves, but his shoulders relax once the door is closed. Maybe it’s not so bad. He’s not sure that table was going to tip him much anyway.

Atsushi puts in a ticket for himself just for a cup of soup, since he doesn’t have much of an appetite, and he takes it up to a table obscured from view where many of the servers sit on their breaks.

He only takes a few sips with a spoon before he lays his head on the table, deciding he’ll just shut his eyes for a while. He’s sure if he does this he’ll feel good enough to finish his evening shift with no problem.

He only briefly considers asking Kunikida if he can leave early. He can’t do that. He’s never left early. The only time he’s ever done that was to pick up Kyoka from school because she got hurt. He can push through a little fever. He’ll be fine.

He hears someone’s footsteps approach the table and stop in front of it, and he slowly lifts his head to avoid getting dizzy.

Akutagawa. Again.

Atsushi wants to voice his complaints, but Akutagawa’s hand slides something that he’s already placed on the table a bit closer to him. It’s two pills in a tiny sauce cup, on top of a ten-dollar bill.

"What are these?" Atsushi asks, a brow raised as he sits himself up.

"Fever reducers," Akutagawa says. “And the tip from F-2.”

"You just have these on you?" Atsushi asks, bringing his eyes up to meet Akutagawa’s.

“Some of us don’t have immune systems as great as yours,” Akuatagwa teases.

Atsushi huffs. “Fine, I get it.”

Akutagawa is already on his way back to where he came from before Atsushi can say anything else. He wasn’t expecting Akutagawa to give him the tip he missed out on. He was almost certain Akutagawa was the type to vulture over tables like that. And he really didn’t expect him to bring him medicine.

Maybe he should have said thank you. It’s too late now.

…

Atsushi did feel okay for a while. He thinks that medicine helped delay the inevitable, but his fever came back in full swing just an hour before he was supposed to be cut. He's starting to feel really out of it.

“I’m sorry. I don’t know how I mixed those two up,” Atsushi mumbles as he rubs his eyes. One of his tables had gotten something completely different than what they asked for, and of course, they voiced their complaint to Kunikida before Atsushi even had a chance to fix the situation.

Atsushi wishes he was still dealing with a runny nose. He'd prefer that over what's happening now. He feels dizzy and his stomach is starting to hurt.

“They’re right on top of each other in the system. I’ve made that mistake before,” Akuatagwa says, apparently overhearing the situation. Atsushi wants to shoot him a glare and tell him to stay out of it, but he secretly appreciates the defense. He probably hit the other one by accident when he was putting the order in.

“Alright, well, be more careful next time, Atsushi. You know better than to not double-check,” Kunikida says with a heavy sigh, clearly just put off by the customer’s complaints.

“Yes, sir,” Atsushi murmurs, and before he can even think about thanking Akutagawa again, he’s already whisked himself out of the kitchen.

“You and Akutagawa are getting cut first. So just finish up your tables and you can go,” Kunikida tells him. That’s the best news he’s heard all day. Both of them did double shifts today, so it makes sense, but he was totally thinking he would have to be here past close.

He watches Akutagawa take the correct order to the table that he messed up on, and they thank him. It’s weird to see him act docile with people. It’s suspicious. But he’s thankful Akutagawa took care of that. He’s really not feeling up to it himself.

Atsushi really hasn't felt this awful in a long time. Akutagawa's weird understanding is throwing him off.

He manages to get through the rest of his tables without any major issues. He spilled two glasses of water and forgot to put in a dessert, but in the end, he finished it. The last few tables tipped him less than his average, which makes it clear enough his performance wasn’t up to par, but at this point, he just wants to take his tips and leave.

Junichiro helps cash him out, and Atsushi waits along the wall outside the back end of the cafe, where Kyoka will usually pick him up. He had already shot her a text earlier when Kunikida told him he was being cut first, but she hasn’t responded yet.

He tries to call her, but still, no answer. He knows that she has soccer practice that usually runs pretty late, so he’s not too worried. But of course, this would happen the one time he wants to go home as soon as possible.

He sits with his knees pulled into his chest and his head laying atop them, his phone ringer turned on in case she calls.

He can’t help but whine for just a second as his head starts to swim around. He’d do anything to be in his bed right now.

Footsteps approach the back end, and Atsushi already knows it’s Akutagawa. The shoes he wears have a strong heel.

"Where's your ride?" Akutagawa asks after a few moments. Apparently, he’s already closed out, too.

"I dunno," he murmurs honestly. He’s too tired to argue with him. Otherwise, he would have said it’s none of his business. “She won't answer."

“Hm,” is all he says. He stands there for a few extra moments. Atsushi expects him to say something, but he just walks off to find his car without another word to Atsushi.

Atsushi ducks his head back down. He doesn’t have the energy to fight off Akutagawa’s terrible manners.

He wonders for a moment if it might be a better idea to call an Uber than to wait for Kyoka, but he realizes calling an Uber would make a dent in his profits for today, and make him feel like he shouldn’t have come to work in the first place. He groans.

He hears a car pull up to the sidewalk, and his head pops up, hoping to see his car with Kyoka in the driver’s seat - but disappointing him once again, it’s Akutagawa.

Atsushi groans again and drops his head back onto his knees, but Akutagawa honks his horn. Atsushi raises a brow. What the hell is his problem?

He stands up, using the wall to help him do so, and sees the passenger window open Akutagawa is busy on his phone, not even bothering to turn his head to look over.

Atsushi takes a few steps closer to his car, wondering what on earth he could possibly want from him.

“Get in,” Akutagawa says without looking up, once Atsushi is close to the car door.

“What? You - ”

Atsushi hears the door unlock.

Is this some weird way of telling him he’ll drive him home?

In any other situation, Atsushi would say no. Akutagawa is so rude. This is not the way to offer to drive someone home. Atsushi doesn’t want to get into this asshole’s car, and he doesn’t want him to know where he lives.

But his desire to be asleep in his bed trumps everything so fast that he’s already climbed into the passenger seat.

“You’re so rude,” Atsushi grumbles as Akutagawa hands him his phone with a bar to enter his address. Atsushi feebly types it in before placing it into the phone holder he sees. “You could’ve just said I’ll drive you home.”

“I didn’t feel like arguing with you,” Akutagawa says simply as he starts to drive off.

“Who says I would’ve argued?” Atsushi huffs, buckling his seatbelt. He tries to make sure it sits loose across his lap so there's not too much pressure on his aching stomach.

“You always argue.”

“Yeah, ‘cause you’re rude!” Atsushi reiterates. Akutagawa doesn’t seem to care about what he has to say, but honestly, Atsushi will just take the ride home give up. He’ll never win an argument against someone like Akutagawa.

Akutagawa is strange. He doesn’t have any music playing in his car. Not even the buzz of the radio, it’s completely off. His car is clean. Too clean, but Atsushi thinks that part makes sense. He’s kind of a good driver. That doesn’t make any sense.

“Why are you doing this, anyway?” Atsushi asks, turning his head over. Akutagawa doesn’t move his head. He’s stuck straight forward, even as they pull up to a light.

“I have time to kill. And you said your ride wouldn’t answer,” Akutagawa says simply.

“Okay, but you hate me,” Atsushi reminds him.

Akutagawa doesn’t say anything, and just before Atsushi gets half the mind to keep going, he hears his phone start to ring. Kyoka, he guesses, and answers without checking the caller ID.

“I’m really sorry. The practice went longer than usual, we had to start late. I’m on my way,” Kyoka says gently. Atsushi can hear the guilt in her voice. He feels bad.

“No, no, it’s okay. I, uh…I got a ride, so don’t worry about it,” Atsushi assures her. He sounds a little more nervous than he wants to.

“Okay, that’s good. I can pick up some medicine for you, then,” Kyoka says. Atsushi only briefly mentioned to her that he had a cold, but they both know they don’t have anything for that at their apartment.

“That’d be great. Thanks, Kyoka,” he says with a little sigh. “I’ll see you later. Drive safe, okay?”

“I always do. I’ll see you later,” she says, and the line goes dead.

“Sorry. My ride,” Atsushi says as he slides his phone back into his pocket, although, he’s not sure why he’s apologizing. It’s not like Akutagawa was listening to something.

“I figured,” Akutagawa says. “Was that your…”

“Sister. She’s my sister,” Atsushi clarifies, quickly realizing Akiutagawa was assuming something else.

“I didn’t know you had a sister,” Akutagawa says, only sounding mildly surprised.

“Well, she’s…it’s complicated. We’re not blood-related, but…I don’t know. I just say she’s my sister,” Atsushi answers, realizing he probably shouldn’t get into all of the specifics with Akutagawa.

“I see,” Akutagawa nods. “I have a sister as well.”

“You do?” Atsushi says, tilting his head. Akutagawa just nods. “But she’s like, your sister-sister? Like, blood-related?”

“She is,” Akutagawa confirms. “But, blood-related or not, it doesn’t matter. A sister is a sister.”

Atsushi is more than a little surprised to hear that coming from him. Atsushi’s been given a lot of problems before about his relationship with Kyoka. It’s made her time at school incredibly complicated, between the on-paper stuff and the teachers causing issues, so it’s sort of nice to hear that from someone else. He wants to thank him, but he’s unsure he wants to get into all of that.

The nausea starts to settle in a little more, and he can't help but let a quiet groan escape at the feeling. He lays a hand over his tummy. Akutagawa briefly looks over, silently asking what's wrong, Atsushi thinks.

"Sorry. Kinda nauseous," Atsushi mumbles. Normally, he wouldn't admit that.

"Lay the seat back and close your eyes. There's a button at the side of the seat," Akutagawa tells him. Atsushi reaches down and manages to find it right away, and leans the seat back so he’s laying at an angle. It’s a little embarrassing, but Akutagawa is the one that suggested it. And it does help, just a tiny bit.

“By the way,” Atsushi starts before he closes his eyes, deciding instead to thank him for all of the other things he missed today. He’s feeling pretty embarrassed in general. “Thanks for helping me out and stuff.”

“It wasn’t any trouble,” Akutagawa says simply.

“Maybe not, but, I dunno,” Atsushi says through a yawn. Everything he's feeling right now - the heat in his face, the dizziness, the nausea, it's all slowly subsiding and being replaced with the urge to sleep. “You could’ve just pretended you didn’t notice.”

“Why would I do that?” Akutagawa says, sounding confused.

“You’re like, the rudest person I know,” Atsushi reminds him. He’s told him this many times before.

“You’re being rather rude to the one who is deciding whether or not you get home tonight,” Akutagawa grumbles, his fake threat sounding a lot more ominous than it needed to. It almost sends a shiver up Atsushi’s spine.

“Okay, okay! Fine, thank you. I mean it,” Atsushi murmurs, hoping that will offset his earlier comment, and Akutagawa only sighs.

Atsushi starts to get much more tired as they continue their drive, and he’s almost asleep by the time they arrive. To Atsushi’s surprise, Akutagawa tells him to feel better just before Atsushi closes the door, but he’s so dumbfounded by that coming from him that he doesn’t say anything back.

And then, Akutagawa drives off.

…

Only a few weeks later, their situations are reversed.

“Atsushi, your drinks are up at the bar for A-2,” Kunikida says as he walks past him, busy with something else, but the comment flies over his head.

Atsushi's been keeping an eye on Akutagawa. He hasn’t been acting quite right. His usual bad manners have tapered down quite a bit, and right now, he’s leaned against the counter, staring at the tickets hanging up over the window. Or at least, that’s what it looks like. Atsushi thinks he’s got something else on his mind.

He tries to eavesdrop on a conversation Yosano picks up with Akutagawa as Atsushi sifts through the tickets, pretending to look busy, but it’s too loud in the kitchen for him to hear anything. He doesn’t hear more than a word out of Akutagawa.

“Atsushi, the bar, please,” Kunikida huffs. Atsushi almost jumps, but he does as he’s told. They’re far too busy right now for him to ponder what’s on Akutagawa’s mind.

“There he is! Bad kitty, forgetting your drinks,” Dazai says from behind the bar as Atsushi approaches, a mischievous smile on his face as usual. “Also, do me a favor, will you? Akutagawa put this in but we’re out. It’s on the board.”

Dazai hands him a ticket. Akutagawa usually doesn’t make mistakes like that, especially considering their board is in plain sight beside their ordering software.

“I’ll tell him,” Atsushi says with a nod as he takes the tray with his drinks, and whisks them away to A-2.

Just as he plans to head back into the kitchen, he’s flagged down by another table. Atsushi only has one or two of his own tables right now, he just came off of his break not that long ago, so he doesn’t mind helping them out.

“Sorry to bother you, but we haven’t seen our server in a while. We just wanted to put our orders in,” The woman says, not sounding particularly miffed, thankfully.

“No problem, I’ll take them for you,” Atsushi says as he pulls out his notepad. It’s probably Yosano’s table, Atsushi has taken note of her chatting with another of her tables for quite a while, now. “Did you catch their name?”

“I didn’t, but…he has black hair? White tips,” she confirms. The man she's sitting with nods.

Atsushi’s heart sinks. Yet another thing that Akutagawa doesn’t usually do - forget tables. If anything, he’s far too eager to get their orders in as soon as possible, something Kunikida has had to talk to him about. Atsushi takes their orders and heads back to the kitchen, hoping to find Akutagawa there, and he does.

He’s still in the same spot, staring forward with his arms crossed over his chest, but something about this time makes Atsushi realize that he looks nauseous. That isn’t a foreign sight to him. Akutagawa has been sick several times in the few months he’s been working here, for reasons Atsushi can’t be sure about. He’s breathing heavily through his nose, like he’s trying to will his nausea away, his lips pressed into a firm line.

Atsushi has the bar ticket and the note page with his table’s order on it, but he doesn’t have the heart to pester him about that right now. Kunikida appears in the kitchen again. He briefly eyes the two of them, looking confused.

"I can watch your tables for a minute, if you need to -"

Akutagawa doesn't reply, but it's answer enough when a hand flies up to his mouth and he runs off, out of the kitchen and toward the restrooms. Yosano enters the kitchen just as Akutagawa runs past her, and her face falls, seemingly understanding the situation right away. She probably knew he was sick. Yosano used to be a field nurse in the military and often picks up on things like that.

Atsushi was going to suggest he go outside for some fresh air, since that’s usually what he does when he’s not well - he wasn’t expecting him to actually need to throw up, and now he’s concerned. Kunikida seems to mirror this sentiment with the look he’s giving him.

“I’ll go check on him, can you put this in for me?” Atsushi asks as he hands the order to Kunikida, running off before he can ask any further questions. He knows Dazai will bother him about the drink, so he doesn’t worry about that.

He’s not entirely sure why he’s doing this. He normally won't bother Akutagawa at all when he's not feeling well, but for some reason, he feels obligated to this time, especially since this seems worse than usual.

Really, he's just making sure his tables get covered. They're in the middle of a rush right now.

Atsushi travels down the hallway to the very end where the restrooms are - they’re small considering the size of the restaurant, and they only hold three stalls, so Atsushi won’t be able to sneak in all nonchalantly.

He can hear Akutagawa retching through the door. Atsushi cringes at the sound - it sounds painful, followed by coughs and heavy breaths. He thinks it might not be a good idea to wander in right now, so he opens the storage closet at the very end of the hall to grab the closed for cleaning sign, and hangs it on the door. That way, no unwanted visitors can walk in.

Atsushi waits a moment to walk in. It's quiet for long enough and he decides to take the doorknob into his hand. A small, pained whimper breaks the silence.

"Are you okay?" Atsushi asks meekly once the door swings shut behind him. The whimper he heard is enough to tell him the answer is no, but it’s doubtful Akutagawa would admit that.

"I'm fine. Get out," Akutagawa mumbles. Atsushi guesses he's in the stall furthest from the door.

"This is the public bathroom," Atsushi reminds him with a small sigh. "Stomach flu?"

"No," Akutagawa grumbles.

Atsushi pouts. Why is he denying it? "Kinda sounds like -"

"I know what's wrong with me, Nakajima. Leave me alone," Akutagawa hisses. The venom in his tone is telling enough. Unfortunately for him, Atsushi never knows when to quit.

"I'll go check on your tables," Atsushi tells him, that being his plan to begin with. He doesn't have a feeling Akutagawa will be leaving the restrooms very soon, based on just how nauseous he seemed to be earlier.

"You can keep them," Akutagawa mumbles. A cough or two ends his sentence. 

"I'm not gonna keep them. You did most of the work," Atsushi huffs. He thinks Akutagawa has four or five tables right now, almost all of which have been here for a while.

"Keep them," Akutagawa insists. His voice sounds a little hoarse and scratchy. He's sure it hurts. Atsushi ended up throwing up once he got home, that time he was sick a few weeks ago. That feeling is fresh in his mind.

"You sure?" Atsushi says. Clearly, Akutagawa will keep arguing no matter the case.

"I'm sure," he says. "Please go."

That last part almost sounds desperate. Not so much of an argument, more of a plea. Atsushi almost feels bad for him.

"Just let me know if you need something," Atsushi says as he takes the handle of the door. He just hears a vague hum from Akutagawa before he slips out of the bathroom.

Atsushi closes the door behind him and adjusts the sign, jumping when Dazai appears in the hallway, looking rather inquisitive. Yosano appears behind him, arms crossed over her chest.

"Everything okay over here?" Dazai asks with a curious tilt of his head.

"Oh…well, sort of," Atsushi murmurs, straightening out his apron. "Akutagawa's sick."

"Hmm…again, huh?" Dazai says with a little sigh. Yosano sighs too, like Atsushi has confirmed what she’s already thought. "Is it his cough?"

"Um…no, he's uh, throwing up," Atsushi explains meekly. He’s not sure what he means by his cough, but he’s sure Dazai knows more about Akutagawa than Atsushi does. He used to work over at the cafe with him, but he’s been in the restaurant with the rest of them for much longer than Akutagawa.

“He didn’t seem well before his lunch break, either. I told him to go home,” Yosano sighs. She doesn’t exactly have that kind of authority, but Kunikida tends to let her do what she wants. She’s been working at the restaurant longer than all of them.

"I see," Dazai sighs again with a pout. "Alright…I'll let Kunikida know, then."

Dazai wanders off to find Kunikida, even though Atsushi heard at least three tickets print out behind the bar while they were standing there.

“Thank you for checking on him, Atsushi,” Yosano says with an appreciative nod, and she heads in the opposite direction to check on her tables. Atsushi didn’t think it was really any trouble. 

For the next hour or so, Atsushi feels like he's running around without a head, but he manages to get all of Akutagawa's tables cleared out, as well as his own.

But he doesn't see Akutagawa for the rest of that shift. He thinks he briefly sees Kunikida and Dazai talking with someone in the hall, but he can't be sure that was him.

"Atsushi," Kunikida says with a huff. He's holding the closed for cleaning sign, and he looks thoroughly annoyed. "Was this you?"

"Uhh…yes?" Atsushi says, caught red-handed upon entering the kitchen.

"We've gotten several complaints about the men's restroom being closed tonight. I assumed it was actually being cleaned, but apparently, the sign was put there for no reason," Kunikida huffs. "Care to explain?"

"I…well, you see -" Atsushi starts, but apparently, Kunikida doesn't have the time to hear him out.

"Either way, either you don't do this, or you fix it once it's not needed. Understand?" Kunikida says. He sounds like a disappointed father, which stings a bit more than it needs to, but Atsushi nods.

"Yes, I'm sorry. I shouldn't have done that during a rush. Or, in general," Atsushi admits awkwardly.

Kunikida gives him a sigh to acknowledge his apology before he walks off with the sign. Atsushi ducks his head and heads back to the salad bar to finish his closing tasks.

Yosano wanders over to help, apparently having finished early with her own tasks. Atsushi thanks here flipping the salad bar isn't easy to do on his own.

"You sure had a lot of tables today. Did you take Akutagawa's?" she asks him, her hands and eyes busy with their job.

"Oh, yeah…he asked me to," Atsushi says, deciding to lie to avoid being accused of being a vulture. "Have you…have you seen him?"

"Kunikida was talking to him earlier, but I don't think he went home. His bag is still here," Yosano says. Atsushi hadn't even thought of checking on that.

She did confirm he was here recently to talk to Kunikida. That's good. Atsushi was worried it was bad enough that he left early, which would be greatly concerning. If he's still around, Atsushi can give him the tips he's owed from the tables he had to leave behind.

Junichiro, on the register once again helps Atsushi close out and sort out his tips once he's done with his closing tasks. Atsushi held onto the receipts from Akutagawa’s tables, and sorts out what he owes him, reaching over to take a paperclip to keep the bills together. He decided to just round up to the nearest dollar.

"Can you set this aside for Akutagawa when he closes out?" Atsushi asks, handing Junichiro the folded cash.

Junichiro tilts his head. He doesn't take the money.

"I took over some of his tables during the rush. I just wanna make sure it gets to him," Atsushi explains, his hand still stretched out to Junichiro.

"You don't wanna give it to him?" Junichiro asks, sounding rather confused.

Atsushi hadn't really considered that. He's not really even sure where Akutagawa is hiding right now. “I feel like he wouldn’t take it from me.”

“I could say the same thing," Junichiro tells him, and he's probably right. Akutagawa wouldn't be happy at all to take something like that indirectly when he thinks they made a deal. Atsushi lowers his hands and stuffs the wad of cash into his apron pocket.

"Any idea where he is?" Atsushi asks.

Junichiro nods. "He's been at the cafe since Kunikida talked to him."

That makes sense. The cafe is closed around this time. He wonders if Kunikida sent him there to rest for a while. Atsushi is pretty sure his key works for the connecting door, and he heads for that direction.

He's able to unlock it and enter the cafe, only illuminated by the blue glow of the cake display case. Akutagawa is there - sitting at one of the back tables, Dazai stood next to him, a hand on his shoulder. Interesting. Akutagawa is slowly standing from a table in the corner, using the booth for leverage, not looking happy to see Atsushi in the slightest.

He wonders what they were talking about in there.

He expects some sort of random outburst from Dazai, but he doesn’t say much of anything, he just smiles at Atsushi as he heads for the door behind him. He gives him a little nod, and then he’s gone.

"You, uh, feel any better?" Atsushi asks a little awkwardly once Dazai is gone, making sure the door is shut behind him. He wants to take a few steps further, but for some reason, he doesn't.

"No," Akutagawa says with a huff, busying himself with folding up his apron, eyes averted. "Don't you have better things to do than to bother me?"

"C'mon, I'm trying to be nice," Atsushi huffs, forcing his hand in Akutagawa’s direction with the bills he had before he can chicken out. "Here."

Only then does Akutagawa look over at him. He lifts a brow. He looks confused.

"It's from your tables. When you got sick," Atsushi reminds him. He thought it was kind of obvious.

Akutagawa's shoulders drop and he huffs. He sets the apron down on the table. "I told you to keep them."

"They weren't my tables, though. And it's not like you got lazy and dropped them," Atsushi says. His hand is still stretched out. "I know you need the money. So take it."

"And who are you to make assumptions like that?" Akutagawa bites. Obviously, that's not an accusation most people like to hear. Akutagawa’s expression has changed from confused to completely pissed off. Atsushi realizes that’s probably a comment he could have kept to himself.

"'Cause I've never seen you call out sick even though you're sick all the time," Atsushi mumbles with a light shrug. "I've never seen you call out for anything."

"Neither have you," Akutagawa mumbles, like he has a point to make.

"Yeah, ‘cause I need the money," Atsushi says, proving his point in the end. He waves the money at him one more time, and Akutagawa finally steps forward to gingerly take it from him. He doesn’t look very happy about it, but if Atsushi had to guess, that has more to do with his pride than anything else.

"Thank you," Akutagawa says quietly, still holding the wad of cash like he's not sure if he really wants to accept it or not.

"No problem," Atsushi says. Sure, he almost lost his mind for a minute there, covering all of those tables on top of his own, but it all got done in the end. Akutagawa went out of his way to help Atsushi when he was sick a few weeks ago, so he doesn’t mind doing the same for him. “It’s the least I could do.”

Akutagawa ends up walking past him without another word, and he's out of the cafe, headed toward Junichiro to close out, with no parting words aside from a cough or two. Atsushi hopes he'll feel better soon. He's a little worried about him.

Atsushi ends up on the phone with Kyoka for a while, sitting in the cafe in the dark as everything slowly shuts down at the restaurant next door. She wanted his advice about an ongoing situation with her soccer team, and although Atsushi didn't find himself particularly helpful, she took enough away from his advice to feel satisfied.

"I shouldn't be too much longer. I'm sorry these keep going so late," Kyoka says with a quiet sigh.

"Don't worry, I don't mind," Atsushi says. He wants to be home as much as anyone else does, but in the end, it doesn't matter to him what time. As long as he gets to sleep. "I'll see you later, yeah? Just text me when you're headed out."

"I will. See you later," she says, and the line clicks.

By now, the restaurant is closed. He doesn't see any figures moving inside, and all of the lights have gone off by now. He figures he might as well go outside and wait.

Atsushi slips out of the back door of the cafe and locks it, surprised to find one last car in the parking lot. For a moment he thinks it's Kunikida's, but he knows this one a little too up close and personal - it's Akutagawa's.

Akutagawa is sitting on the pavement beside his car, leaning against the door, his head in his hands.

Atsushi doesn't have the heart to ignore him, especially now that he's already outside. He's a bit more concerned than he'd like to admit. He really hopes he's not crying.

"Hey," Atsushi starts as he walks over.

"Nakajima," Akutagawa grumbles, sounding like he's about to start scolding him. He lifts his head, and he's not crying, thankfully, but he looks awful, and frustrated. He looks just about as pale as the white tips of his hair.

"Can I drive you home or something? Or call an Uber for you?" Atsushi asks. He has to assume he's not feeling well to do it himself, hence why he's still here. Even Kunikida has already gone, and staying past Kunikida leaving is just unheard of.

"Why on earth would I let you do that?" he growls. He attempts to scramble to stand up, as if trying to prove he's been capable of it the entire time, but the action seems to make him dizzy enough that he has to use the car door handle to stay steady. He lays a hand over the side of his stomach, like the movement made him feel worse.

"Cause you did it for me a few weeks ago. Remember?" Atsushi asks. Akutagawa glares at him, not seeing his point, evidently. "You look awful. Let me help."

"I don't - I don't want your pity, Nakajima -" he breathes out, only seconds before he's sucked into a coughing fit. It nearly forces him back to the ground. Atsushi bites his lip at how painful it sounds. He leans heavily on the door for support.

“I’ll go get you some water or something,” Atsushi says, but Akutagawa’s coughs seem to have died down enough for him to get a word in.

“I don’t need water,” he mumbles, his voice now left scratchy and hoarse. “It’s not my throat.”

Atsushi isn’t entirely sure what he means by that. What else could it possibly be?

Akutagawa straightens himself out, like he’s trying to make himself look presentable despite everything. Atsushi doesn’t understand him at all. He can’t swallow his pride long enough to accept help from anyone, but he expects others to do the same.

He tries one last time.

“Either you give me your keys or I’m calling an Uber for you,” Atsushi says with an annoyed huff. “Your choice.”

Akuatagwa looks at him, this time not a glare, but more of a, you’re not going to let this go, are you?

Akutagawa pulls his keys out of his pocket and begrudgingly hands them to Atsushi, but just before Atsushi can take them, he pulls his hand back to his chest.

"I get awful motion sickness if I'm not driving," Akutagawa mumbles, his gaze averted, looking embarrassed to have to admit that.

"Well, at least it's your car. So I don't have room to complain if you puke," Atsushi offers. He appreciates the warning. He wonders if that’s the reason he hasn’t called an Uber for himself. “And, that stuff doesn’t really bother me, so don’t worry about it.”

And with that, Akutagawa finally hands him the keys.

Once they get in, Akutagawa enters his address into his phone while Atsushi is busy adjusting the seat and mirrors of the car, secretly trying to figure out how to start Akutagawa’s car without asking him. Eventually, Akutagawa’s just staring at him, wondering why he hasn’t done it already.

“It’s a push to start,” Akuatgawa says.

Atsushi doesn’t really know what that means. He’s only been in cars where you turn a key. This must be a new thing. He just meekly turns his head, secretly asking for more guidance. Akutagawa sighs.

“Foot on the break and hand on the button,” he says with a roll of his eyes.

Atsushi does just that, and miraculously, the car turns on. He’s impressed. All the keys are really good for is unlocking the car, then.

“Maybe I shouldn’t trust you driving my car,” Akutagawa grumbles, turnings his head toward the window. “You’re incredibly foolish.”

“Hey, I’m a great driver!” Atsushi defends. Akutagawa only hums, sounding completely unconvinced, but Atsushi is determined to prove he can drive just fine.

Akutagawa spends the rest of the drive completely silent, staring out the window as Atsushi drives him home. It’s not far at all from the restaurant, just about the same distance as Atsushi’s place, only in the opposite direction. Atsushi drives a little more carefully than he normally would, with the knowledge that Akutagawa gets car sick - but even so, he’s very obviously nauseous the entire time. He sees him in his peripheral a few times, pressing a hand against his temple. He wonders if he’s got a bad headache, too.

“Akutagawa?” Atsushi starts.

Akutagawa just slightly turns his head to let Atsushi know he’s listening.

“Was Dazai talking to you in there?” Atsushi says.

“Mhm,” he answers. Normally, he’d expect him to say something like, and why is that any of your business? But maybe hes too exhausted to be his usual defensive self.

“Can I ask about what?” Atsushi says. He doesn’t like to be nosey, at least not outwardly like this, he just thought it was strange - especially once Dazai left the cafe, without even a silly glance to spare.

“I have some health issues,” Akutagawa says quietly. He sounds ashamed, almost. “He was just…giving me some advice.”

Health issues, huh?

“Helpful advice, I hope?” Atsushi says.

“He…he can be, um…” Akutagawa starts, but he thinks his car sickness has already gotten to be too much. He leans his head back a bit and presses a fist up to his lips. Atsushi hears him swallow back. “Sorry, I…”

“Does laying the seat back help you? It helped me a little when you said it,” Atsushi suggests. He really thought for a moment there that Akutagawa was going to double over and throw up over the floor mat, but he takes Atsushi up on that suggestion, and lays back, his eyes shut for a while.

Atsushi approaches the parking garage - some fancy system where the gate scans the car’s plate and lets them in, proof enough that Akutagawa lives in a fairly nice building. That’s interesting. Atsushi was under the assumption that Akutagawa never took off work because he needed the money, but he has a nice car, and lives in a nice place, from the looks of it. Maybe it’s simply his pride? Atsushi doesn’t know.

Atsushi ends up parking on a high floor without many cars around, just in case he were to somehow hit another car in his attempt to park. Atsushi starts to say something, but the words are completely lost on his tongue when Akutagawa suddenly swings the car door open and nearly throws himself out. At first, Atsushi is in shock he was in that much of a hurry to get away from him, but he cranes his neck to find that Akutagawa is on his hands and knees gagging, vomit splattering onto the pavement below him.

Well, he did a good job holding off, at least.

Atsushi leaves his things in the car and just takes his keys with him before he turns to the other side. He imagines that Akutagawa wouldn’t want any comfort in this kind of situation, but Atsushi’s body acts before he can think that through. He kneels beside him and lays a gentle hand on his back. He’s surprised by how warm he feels, and that Akutagawa doesn’t make any attempts to get away from him.

He really doesn’t sound good. His retches sound painful, and Atsushi guesses with the way that he’s breathing that it feels that way too. He sucks in breaths like they’re hard to come by, and Atsushi hears that whimpering sound he heard from him last time, too. It has to hurt.

Atsushi just rubs his back as gently as he can. He’s tempted to make a joke about his driving, but he’s almost worried that Akuatagwa isn’t all there. He looks like he’s so worn out that he’ll pass out any second.

It’s been long enough since he’s brought something up that Atsushi thinks he should be done, so Atsushi helps him sit back on his heels out of fear that he might fall forward.

His eyes are glassy and completely unfocused, a look he’s familiar with. Kyoka used to get out-of-the-blue fevers where her eyes would look just like this, and Atsushi’s surprised he hadn’t put together the pieces already. He takes Akuatgawa’s wrist to help him stand up, something he’s hardly able to do, and Atsushi reaches his free hand out toward his forehead to confirm his suspicion. It’s hot, and his skin is clammy.

He's really starting to worry about him, now.

"You have a fever," Atsushi mumbles, although Akuatagwa must be aware of that if he feels anywhere near as awful as he looks.

“I’m fine,” he croaks. His tone sounds wobbly, not at all convincing.

Atsushi doesn’t let go of his wrist. He’ll crumple to the ground if he does.

“What’s your apartment number?” Atsushi asks him. He’s almost wondering if he should be proactive and just hook an arm around his waist.

“Twenty… twenty-two sixteen,” Akutagawa mumbles.

Atsushi is glad he got that out of him, because just a second later, his eyes roll backward and his knees buckle beneath him, rather gracefully making his descent to the pavement.

Shit.

Atsushi catches him before his knees can hit the ground, but whether he’s completely unconscious or not, he’s so out of it that it doesn’t matter. His eyes are just half-lidded, and he’s so faint and hot that Atsushi isn’t sure how he even managed half of a conversation earlier in the car.

And he thinks it says enough that Akutagawa gave him his apartment number without a single argument. He must have known he was about to pass out.

All Atsushi has to do is shift his position a bit before he’s carrying Akutagawa in his arms, something he would have never dreamed of doing this morning, he’d imagine - but there’s no other way to help him. He’s really, really sick. Atsushi can’t leave him here. He knows he has a sister, but has no way to contact her - and even if he did, what if she’s not home? What if she’s asleep? Do they even live together?

“I wonder if you’d do this for me,” Atsushi mumbles once he steps inside the elevator, crouching down to lean Akutagawa against the wall. He’s twenty-two floors up, which is kind of insane. Akutagawa doesn’t respond to his comment. His head rolls to the side, and he looks a little more awake, now, but not nearly enough to walk on his own, he doesn’t think. “You still with me? Akutagawa?”

Akutagawa doesn’t give any sign that he’s conscious enough to respond, other than a quiet, pained groan. Atsushi frowns. He wonders how this happened so quickly. Maybe it was the car sickness or the throwing up that tired him out so much, but he’s certain he’s been dealing with this fever the whole time. It can’t be that it just came out of nowhere. Has his body just given up now that he knows he’s almost home?

Once they get to close enough to the floor they need to be on, Atsushi scoops Akutagawa back in his arms and slips out of the elevator, searching for the number Akutagawa gave him, before eventually finding it. Akutagawa has a keycard for this on his keys, Atsushi thinks, and he manages to pull it out of his pocket and press it against the lock without having to set Akutagawa down. Kyoka would be impressed, he thinks.

This is a nice place. A gorgeous view, too. Atsushi takes a bit too long to admire everything. Nice, sleek furniture, minimal decorating, and a fancy television over a fake fireplace. Ridiculously clean, too, almost like a film set. He really never expected Akutagawa to live in a place like this.

At the end of the hallway, Atsushi notices an open bedroom door, and he heads there to set Akutagawa down on the bed. He’s as careful and gentle as he can think to be, but still, there’s no reaction from him, nothing enough for Atsushi to feel better about this situation. He just relaxes a bit, his face doesn’t look so tense, but he still very obviously feels horrible.

There’s that quiet, pained whimper again, and the tension bleeds back into his face. Atsushi is concerned about the sweat forming along his hairline. He really isn’t sure how high that fever is, but it’s definitely not something low-grade.

What does Atsushi do now? He can’t just leave him here while he’s so sick, but what right does Atsushi have to stay here and take care of him? Is that crossing a line?

Atsushi takes his phone out in a panic, remembering he was waiting on a text from Kyoka.

Luckily, the text was only from a few minutes ago. Atsushi quickly types up a response.

Well, now he’s just straight-up lied. Explaining this situation to her is a little too much for him to want to type up over text.

He hears a groan from Akutagawa, and he turns his body just a bit, laying an arm over his middle. Atsushi watches him for a few moments, but Akutagawa doesn’t seem to take in Atsushi’s presence at all. He coughs a few times and finally opens his eyes a bit, but still, nothing.

Atsushi’s heart sinks. He really looks awful. Part of him is almost wondering if he should take him to a hospital, but he can’t do that without his permission. That would definitely be crossing a line.

He wanders into an adjacent room that he assumes to be a bathroom, and he’s right - it’s just as clean and fancy as the rest of the place - and Atsushi finds a small stack of wash clothes in a basket. He takes one, wets it, and wrings some of the water out, figuring that’s a good place to start.

When he walks back into the room, he’s completely frozen, because there’s another person that wasn’t there before. A girl wearing an oversized shirt and shorts to sleep, with long, dark hair, leaned over Akutagawa’s unconscious form, brushing the hair out of his face. She has to be the sister he mentioned.

She turns, or rather, jerks her head around when she hears the squeak of the bathroom door, and Atsushi very quickly realizes that she has a knife in her hand, and her wild eyes have found her target.

The girl looks terrified. Atsushi can’t blame her, there’s a stranger in her apartment and her brother is unconscious.

"Hey, I - I'm sorry. I'm just - I'm one of his coworkers," he says, bringing his hands up beside his head, the washcloth still gripped in one of them. She’s still very on edge, but the tension melts from her shoulders after she looks him over. She seems to take note of the apron, and hopefully takes that as a sign that he’s telling the truth.

"Nakajima?" she asks nervously.

Atsushi blinks. "Um, yeah."

"Why…why are you here?" she asks. Atsushi is still stuck on the fact that she knows his name, or knows enough about him to connect whatever dots she has.

"Oh, uh…he just - he wasn't feeling well. Or, well enough to drive himself home," Atsushi murmurs, his hands still up, because she’s still gripping the knife. "So, uh, I offered."

The girl seems to realize in that moment that she’s still holding a knife in her hand and quickly sets it on the nightstand with a meek apology, and Atsushi lowers his hands with a sigh of relief. He didn’t think she was going to start stabbing him, but he can never be sure. He’s never met her.

“Has he been sick all day?” she asks, briefly turning her head back to her brother.

“I only did the evening shift today, but - he’s been sick since I got there, yeah,” Atsushi nods, taking a few cautious steps closer, reaching a hand out to give her the washcloth. She takes it gratefully and gently lays it over her brother’s forehead. “I just noticed the fever once we got here, but…he’s thrown up twice, I think. And, he passed out in the parking lot. He's been…like this since then. Completely out of it."

She says something quiet to him as she lays a hand on his cheek. Atsushi doesn’t quite catch it. He wonders if it might be his first name, and Atsushi realizes he doesn’t even know the initial of it.

“I’m so sorry. He can be really difficult sometimes,” she says with a little sigh. Atsushi didn’t mention anything about that, but maybe she just assumes he’s had to deal with his difficult nature at some point during all of this, and that’s definitely true. “Do you have somewhere to be?”

Atsushi shakes his head. “Not really, but I can - ”

"You can stay the night if you want to. I can drive you wherever you need to be in the morning," she says. “It’s pretty late.”

Atsushi has to agree on that. It has gotten late, and Ubers around this time tend to be more expensive than necessary - and he would never ask her to go out of her way to drive him home at this time. He doesn’t mind staying, especially since Kyoka’s not home. Atsushi nods.

She leads him out to the couch and quickly admits she has no idea how to pull it out into a bed, but Atsushi insists he doesn’t mind, it’s a far nicer couch than the one he has at home, and definitely wide enough to comfortably sleep someone. She gets a sheet and blanket for him and asks him if he’d like a change of clothes to sleep in, which he agrees to, but realizes a little too late that he would be wearing Akutagawa’s clothes.

Black sweatpants and a black shirt - sounds about right for someone like him. The shirt has a faded word on it with letters that he can’t entirely make out, but it says something like Rashomon, he thinks. He tries not to think too much about the fact that he’s wearing his clothes.

“I’m so sorry. I never introduced myself,” she says with an apologetic bow of her head as she hands him an extra pillow. “I’m Gin. Ryuunosuke’s sister.”

Ryuunosuke, huh? It’s kind of a pretty name. Not as harsh as his last name. It suits him, he thinks.

“It’s nice to meet you, Gin. I’m sorry all this happened,” Atsushi says with a sigh. “I’m Atsushi. Nakajima.”

“Please don’t apologize. I’m thankful you were kind enough to help him,” she says quietly.

Gin tells him goodnight and disappears into the room with her brother as Atsushi lays his head down. He’s got a bit of a headache. Maybe he’s stressed himself out with everything going on. He’s sure it’ll fade once he’s rested his head for a while.

Is he all that kind, even? He’s sure anyone else would have done this for Akutagawa. He’s just more likely to today because he’s repaying a favor, he thinks.

He hopes Akutagawa will feel better in the morning.

…

Normally, Atsushi wakes up around five in the morning. It’s a habit he picked up from growing up in an orphanage. But today, he checks his phone the moment he wakes up, and realizes it’s almost nine. He has to be at work at ten, so he’s not too worried about the timing, but he’s never slept in this late.

He sits himself up and stretches his arms out with a yawn, and sees Gin in the kitchen.

“Do you like coffee? I can make you some,” she says. He wonders how she turned out to be so kind, compared to her incredibly rude brother. He’d imagine that he would pour water over his face for oversleeping on his couch.

“Oh - that’d be great, thanks,” he nods, swinging his legs over the side. He doesn’t see any sign of Akutagawa around, so hopefully he’s still resting.

They have a fancy coffee machine, too. Atsushi’s a little jealous. He usually just does pour-overs. Gin walks over with a quickly made cup of coffee for him and sets it on the coffee table. Atsushi thanks her and bows his head before he takes it into his hands.

"Do you need to be at work?" she asks. Atsushi didn’t notice until now, but she looks exhausted. Atsushi didn’t have that impression last night. He wonders how long she’s been up for.

Atsushi nods. "I can take an Uber, I don't want to inconvenience you -"

"It's the least I can do to thank you for looking out for him," Gin says. “I don’t mind.”

Atsushi appreciates the thought. He did kind of go a lot further out of his way than he expected himself to, but he doesn’t expect to be paid back for it. He’s just repaying Akutagawa from a few weeks ago, that’s all.

"Is he still asleep?" Atsushi asks after taking a few sips of his coffee.

Gin shakes her head, looking a little confused. "I took him to the hospital a few hours ago. We didn’t wake you?”

Atsushi's heart drops into his stomach. The hospital?

“N-no, I don’t - I don’t think I woke up at all,” Atsushi stammers. He’s a heavy sleeper, normally. “The hospital? Is he okay? What happened?”

"He's there all the time," she says casually, but there’s a hint of concern in her voice that she’s trying to hide. "His lungs don't work the way they're supposed to, and won't take his oxygen to work, so…sometimes he runs into issues. He was having some trouble breathing.”

Atsushi almost feels nauseous himself, now. Akutagawa told him last night that he has some health issues, some that apparently Dazai knows about. But he didn’t know that he was supposed to be on oxygen therapy.

“But, he's not critical or anything, so don't worry too much," she says. "He'll just need to be on oxygen for a while and IV fluids too, since he was so sick…he'll be okay."

Atsushi feels terrible. He's starting to realize it's pretty likely that she only left him because she said she would take him to where he needed to be in the morning. He already offered to take an Uber, but Gin has come all the way back here, and he doesn't want it to be for nothing.

"I won't be long. And I don't mind getting to work early. That way you can get back to him faster," Atsushi says, scrambling to stand up and fold the sheets he was given. Gin hides it well. She's learned to be casual about it. But Atsushi knows he'd be out of his mind if he had to take his sister to the hospital. It can't be easy on her conscience.

“Oh, it’s okay. I have school to get to, actually,” Gin says.

Atsushi shrinks when she says that. He didn’t know she was in school. Atsushi himself is eighteen, and she looks to be around the same age as him. Maybe she just started. It makes sense, considering the time of year.

“You don’t need to go back to him?” he asks.

“He’s okay, really. He’s fully conscious and everything, just a little out of it. It’s always the chest pains that are so bad for him, but they’ve passed for now,” Gin says, probably realizing that Atsushi is worrying about Akutagawa being by himself. “I’d…I’d like to go back to him, but, I’ve skipped school so many times to stay with him that they’ve threatened to kick me out.”

That almost makes Atsushi feel worse. He didn’t have any idea that Akutagawa was really that sick. He’s always poked fun at him for having a terrible immune system, when really, it’s been something else entirely.

“I can go stay with him, if you want. If you’re worried,” Atsushi says meekly.

“I think you’re more worried than I am,” Gin says with a little half-smile, and Atsushi feels his face start to get hot. “He’s okay, I promise. I was planning on picking him up after school, that way he has plenty of time to rest at the hospital.”

Atsushi is having a hard time accepting this whole thing. Surely, Gin isn’t exaggerating. She’s obviously used to this, hence not being concerned, but Atsushi didn’t have any idea that Akutagawa made regular trips to the hospital.

“Please don’t worry about him. My brother can handle himself, I promise,” she says kindly. The warmth in her words puts his heart at ease, and he gives up.

Soon enough, he's back at the restaurant, and Akutagawa is on his mind the rest of the day.

…

Three days later, Akutagawa walks in the door for their morning shift, and Atsushi has never been so relieved to see him. It's a strange feeling. He's just glad he's okay, he thinks that's a normal thought to have for someone who was so ill last he saw him.

Akuatagwa has a crossbody satchel on, which Atsushi doesn't think much of at first, until he sees oxygen tubing traveling up to loop at his nose.

He's a little startled to see that, but he remembers Gin mentioning that he’s supposed to be on oxygen therapy, but won’t wear it to work. He wonders what changed his mind. He wonders why he never wore it to begin with.

He looks okay. Not good by a long shot. There are some hints that he hasn't slept well. His hair is a little out of place, the circles under his eyes are a bit darker than normal. His shoulders look tense, but Atsushi can’t place why,

He’s sitting at the booth closest to the kitchen entrance, and he has his apron laid out on the table and all of its contents laid out, looking busy organizing.

"Hey," Atsushi says meekly. He's almost sure Akutagawa will hiss at him, but he just looks up - defeated, really - before he looks back down. Atsushi's heart sinks. He really does feel guilty. He's sure Akutagawa didn't want anyone to see him like that, let alone Atsushi. "I didn't, uh…I didn't mean to like, invade your space or anything. But I didn't want to leave you alone."

"It's fine," Akutagawa says quietly. He's laying out his pens, placing them in order by brand. "I'm going back into working at the cafe."

"You are?" Atsushi says. Why does he feel a pang of disappointment? He shouldn't care. It's just Akutagawa.  "Why?"

"I have to keep my oxygen on me," he mumbles, laying a hand over the bag. "It's too inconvenient to do as a server."

"I mean, I'm sure we could figure something out. Have you asked Kunikida? Maybe he -"

Akutagawa shakes his head.

"It's fine, Nakajima," Akutagawa says once again. He's sure he's spoken to Kunikida already. Atsushi realizes he's just cleaning out his apron because he won't need it anymore. He'll be using the cafe apron now.

Atsushi sees why it'd be inconvenient to wear it as a server. They work in tight spaces and there's so much running around, and lots of opportunity for the tubing to get caught or tangled. He sighs to himself. He wishes there was an easier way.

He thinks back to Gin’s mention of his chest pains, and wonders if he was dealing with that the whole time, just the other day, and it all comes together in his head. Dazai used to work at the cafe with him. Maybe he’s realized a change in Akutagawa since working at the restaurant, related to his health. He might be the one who convinced him to go back.

"Thank you," Akutagawa says suddenly.

"For what?" Atsushi blinks.

He sighs. "The other day."

"Oh…I mean, it's fine. It wasn't any trouble," Atsushi says. He really didn't mind it. He feels more guilty about it than anything.

"It was. Don't lie," Akutagawa mumbles. "You took over my tables during a rush when you had a full section, and drove me home in my own car without any way to get home yourself."

"But you did it for me, too."

"I took one table from you and drove you home in my own car," Akutagawa says, and Atsushi doesn't see the drastic difference until now. "I owe you."

"You don't have to owe me anything," Atsushi says with a sigh, sitting across from him at the booth. "It doesn't matter to me if the scales weren't even. It all got done and you're okay now, and that's all that matters, so."

He feels his cheeks heat up a little when he says that, and he's not entirely sure why.

"If you insist," Akutagawa mumbles, almost looking embarrassed to hear that.

Soon enough, Atsushi is whisked away by Kunikida to start his morning tasks, and that's the last time Atsushi sees Akutagawa working in the restaurant.

…

A week and a half later, Atsushi finally gets the courage to go into the cafe on his lunch break. Akutagawa left behind one of his notebooks in the locker he used, and Atsushi might be using it as an excuse to see him. Sure, the cafe is right next door, but he feels awkward going there without reason.

“Where’s my kitty going? I really should get you microchipped!” Dazai says, pulling at Atsushi’s apron string as he approaches the cafe door.

“Gross, don’t say that!” Atsushi whines, pulling his apron string back to retie it with one hand before Dazai takes it again and does it for him. “I was just…just giving something back to someone.”

“To Akutagawa?” Dazai asked.

“Y…yeah, his notebook,” Atsushi mumbles. Akutagawa’s words from the car the other week has been on his mind. “Dazai, were you…did you convince him to go back to working at the cafe?”

“Why? Do you miss him?” Dazai asks, tilting his head with a sinister smile as he finishes retying Atsushi’s apron.

“Don’t change the subject!” Atsushi groans.

“Advised would be a better choice of words, I think,” Dazai says. “He’s been working at the cafe much longer than you’ve been here in the restaurant, Atsushi. I’ve known him a long time. His health has declined quite a bit since starting here.”

Atsushi frowns. He’s sure without all of the context he recently learned, that would make no sense, but it makes perfect sense right now. “Because he’s not bringing the oxygen with him?”

“Exactly.” Dazai nods. “The cafe is a way lower-stress job, and he can wear the oxygen without any issue. It’ll be better for him.”

“Why’d he come over here, anyway?” Atsushi asks. He’s not sure if he’s crossing a line there or not.

“The pay as a server is better, for sure. He’s been trying to pay off some hospital bills and help his sister through school,” Dazai says, his voice much softer this time, only wanting Atsushi to hear the answer to his question. Atsushi’s heart hurts. Gin says that he’s often hospitalized, but paying off hospital bills puts it into another perspective.

“I didn’t know he was sick, Dazai,” Atsushi mumbles, leaning against the bar counter with a soft sigh.

“He didn’t want you to know. That’s not your fault,” Dazai assures him. He’s not usually the type to give advice or comfort, but when he does, Atsushi ends up feeling a lot better about things - this time, though, he’s just left more confused. Why would Akutagawa want to keep that from him? Atsushi would pick on him for being sick all the time. Wouldn’t he want to defend himself?

“I guess so,” he murmurs, still feeling rather dejected. It’s guilt, that’s what he feels.

“Thanks for looking out for him.” Dazai says with a strangely genuine looking smile. Atsushi wants to ask him what exactly he means by that, but ever conveniently, Kunikida is shouting his name from the kitchen, and he prances away.

Atsushi faces the cafe door, and gingerly enters.

Their door opens right to the front counter of the cafe. The larger lights have been turned off, and the open sign is facing the inside. The cafe always closes on the restaurant’s dead hour, around three or four in the afternoon, so he already knew they would be closed. Hopefully Akutagawa is still here.

He turns to face the counter, and sees someone wiping down the outside of the display case that he isn’t expecting.

"Oh, hey, Gin!" Atsushi says cheerfully upon seeing her, and she waves at him, standing up. She’s wearing a mask, and her hair is up, but her eyes are very recognizable. He didn't have any idea that she was working here. "You work here, too?"

"Just part-time. I go to school," she says with a nod.. “How are you? Do you need something?”

Atsushi peers to the back for a moment and doesn’t see who he’s looking for. There’s a blond woman and I guy with a bandaid on his nose that he doesn’t recognize, but no Akutagawa. “Oh, I’m - I’m good! Just, uh…”

“Looking for Ryuunosuke?” she asks with a tilt of her head. “He’s here. I can get him, if you want.”

“Oh, no, that’s - that’s okay,” Atsushi says, awkwardly setting the notebook down on the counter. He’s not sure why he’s so nervous. He did want to give it to Akutagawa himself, so he could see him, but he supposes he’ll just leave it with Gin.

“Nakajima.”

He hears his voice coming from the back of the cafe, and he walks up to the counter, his arms crossed over his chest. Gin watches him approach before she disappears into the back.

"Hey, Akutagawa," Atsushi says a little awkwardly. He's surprised that Akutagawa doesn't make a displeased face upon seeing him. He gestures to the notebook he’s left on the counter. "I think this one's yours. I found it where we hang all our bags."

"Oh…thank you," he says. He only looks it over, he doesn’t reach for it. "I didn't get to put that one to very good use."

"You off already?" Atsushi asks.

Akutagawa nods. "We're closing."

There's a blonde woman behind him that Atsushi doesn't quite recognize. He's not familiar with the cafe staff at all, really. She looks suspicious of Atsushi’s presence. He sees a hint of the other guy and Gin in the back for a moment, but they quickly vanish to where Atsushi can’t see them.

"Are you Nakajima?" she asks. Akutagawa sighs.

Atsushi blinks. He’s not quite sure what her intentions are. "Uh, yeah?"

She eyes narrow, and she crosses her arms. "Hm. You need a haircut."

"Higuchi."

"Sorry, sir!" she says. She scurries to the back where the rest of them have disappeared to without a second to waste. Atsushi pats at his hair. He knows it’s not the best haircut, but he does it himself to save money.

“I’m sorry about her,” Akuatagawa mumbles. "Your hair looks fine."

"Sir? You the manager or something?" Atsushi asks, that comment just now catching up as he lowers his hands back to the counter.

"Yes," he sighs.

"Whoa, seriously? I was joking," he says with a breathy laugh. That’s cool.

"Do you think I'm not capable?" Akutagawa questions, his eyes narrowing suspiciously, not looking very happy with what he’s said.

"Hey, whoa, I didn't say that!" Atsushi defends. “I just didn’t think you’d say yes.”

“I was an assistant manager before. They offered me a higher position to come back,” he says, his voice lowering a bit.

Atsushi nods to show understanding - maybe that had something to do with Dazai. He wonders if Dazai was the manager before he left to work at the restaurant, and now Akutagawa’s taken over the position.

"Can I make you something?" Akutagawa asks, turning to the inside of the counter.

"Huh? Me?" Atsushi asks.

"Is there anyone behind you?" he teases when he turns his head.

"Uhh…no," he murmurs awkwardly. "I don't really drink coffee after the morning, actually. But thank you. I think."

"Tea?" he asks.

"Oh…yeah, sure. Tea's good."

Akutagawa nods. "I prefer it as well."

Atsushi feels awkward, standing at the counter as Akutagawa makes tea for him, completely unprompted. It’s very nice of him. Too nice, almost. Maybe he still secretly feels like he owes Atsushi something, he isn’t sure, but either way, Atsushi will take it. He looks over the notebook. It’s nicer than all of the ones Atsushi uses.

“Is it cool if I ask you something?” Atsushi says, his fingers tracing the edge of the notebook.

“If you must,” Akutagawa says plainly as he stirs what he’s poured.

“How come you didn’t tell me you were sick?” Atsushi says. “I feel bad. I was always messing with you about your immune system, but that wasn’t it at all. I would’ve stopped if I knew.”

Akutagawa is quiet for a moment, stirring a bit longer than he needs to, probably. 

“I didn’t mind it. Everyone but you knew,” Akutagawa says with a gentle sigh. “You didn’t treat me like I was fragile.”

Atsushi’s heart sinks. That seems to be something weighing heavily on his mind all the time, Atsushi can tell by the way he says it - and it makes sense. Even now, as he knows, Atsushi finds himself worrying a lot more than he ever would.

“I can…I can keep doing that. If you want,” Atsushi says. Sure, he doesn’t think he really could. He can’t go back to not knowing. He doesn’t even know what exactly is wrong with Akutagawa.

“That would be nice,” Akutagawa says, but the half smile on his face that fades just as quickly as it came, and the tone of his voice - he knows that can’t just happen. He turns his face away, and Atsushi’s focus goes back to the notebook. He opens the cover, just to see if Akutagawa ever even used it, and he finds a loose note of mismatched paper on the inside.

I can get you his number if you want ;) here's mine, txt me & lmk if you ever want it ! XO

It's Yosano's handwriting.

What on earth? Who could she be talking about? Did Akutagawa have a crush on somebody working at the restaurant? Was Yosano trying to help set him up?

Before he can even think about asking, the cover of the notebook is shut on Atsushi’s hand, earning him a tiny ow, and Akutagawa’s hand presses it inside. Atsushi looks up, expecting him to look angry, but he looks scared, for some reason, like a deer caught in the headlights. Atsushi sees his cheeks start to turn a deep shade of pink. Atsushi is almost concerned he might pass out.

“Well, you’ve gotta tell me now,” Atsushi says as soon as Akutagawa takes his notebook back and slides it into his own apron, his stare now looking confused. “Whose number?”

Akutagawa blinks, and turns away. He pours the tea he’s made for Atsushi into one of the cups they use to serve in-house customers, but he keeps it where it is on the adjacent counter.

"Is it Dazai?" Atsushi asks.

Akutagawa huffs. "My god, no."

"Junichiro?" Atsushi asks. Less likely, but Junichiro seems to like Akutagawa.

Akutagawa glares at him, that same strange look of confusion seeping into his expression. Atsushi guesses no, but as he ponders that strange look on his face, he starts to realize who it might be, and his cheeks start to feel hot, too.

"No, it's you, you absolute moron,” Akutagawa mumbles, setting the cup of tea down in front of Atsushi so hard that some of it spills into the counter, before he backs up to lean against the adjacent one, arms crossed over his chest and head turned away. That pink has only gotten more red.

"Me?" Atsushi confirms.

"Yes."

"You want my number?" Atsushi asks, pointing at himself, just in case Akutagawa somehow got it mixed up.

"Please don't make me say it again," Akutagawa mumbles, pressing his hands up to his temples.

“Okay, but, it’s not ‘cause you have a crush on me, right? It’s ‘cause - um…maybe, because, you…” Atsushi murmurs, trying to think of another explanation, but Akutagawa drops his hands and glares at him again, silently telling him that he was right the first time.

It all makes sense, really. His abrasive additude, his willingness to help when something was really wrong. His acceptance of help when he himself really needed it. Atsushi would have never seen it himself, but in hindsight, he gets it.

Atsushi takes out his notebook and starts scribbling something on one of the pages before he tears it out. It’s not pretty, but it’s legible.

“Maybe you should…”

Akutagawa stops whatever he’s saying once Atsushi sets the sheet down on the counter - a piece of paper with his phone number on it. Atsushi is kind of acting on impulse. He has no idea if he really likes Akutagawa back, but apparently, his body sure knows the answer.

Akuatagwa stares at it, wide-eyed, like he can’t believe what he’s seeing.

“Your handwriting is terrible.”

“Take it or leave it!” Atsushi whines, even more embarrassed than before, but Akutagawa takes it in his hand before Atsushi even finishes his weak threat.

Atsushi hears his name from the cafe. He can’t tell whose voice it is through the glass, but he’s not actually on his break right now, he’s supposed to be cleaning. What awful timing.

Atsushi grabs the door handle, for some reason, unable to drop his eye contact with Akutagawa, who’s still holding that piece of paper.

“I better - I better get a text from an unknown number later,” Atsushi says with a huff. Akuatagwa averts his gaze, and Atsushi can only hope that that’s a yes.

Atsushi turns his head when he hears his name again, and presses against the door for a second.

“Nakajima,” Akutagawa says, and Atsushi turns around almost right away. He looks him dead in the eye, wondering what he’ll say next, but his eyes drop down to the counter. “Your tea.”

“Oh - right, right, I’m sorry. Uhm…thanks, for this,” Atsushi stammers on as awkwardly as he possibly could, taking it into both hands out of fear of dropping it. He has his back leaned against the door and opens it that way, hoping Akutagawa will say something else, just to save from how awkward he ended that.

Akutagawa smiles, like he’s amused. Of course he is. Bastard.

“Hurry up and go now, you fool.”

#hehehehe #this is one of my fav fics so far I hope u guys like it #bungo stray dogs #bungou stray dogs #sskk #atsushi #akutagawa #shin soukoku #my fanfictions #sickfic #sicktember 2023 #bsd #illness #sick #vomiting #fever #ao3 #chronic illness #dazai #gin #au #alternate universe

[heavenlyakin]

Mine

Phinks x Fem!Reader

--

wc: 3.7k

Warnings: fem reader, fingering, vaginal sex, protected sex, violence in a scene (not against reader), and yandere themes. You can always message me to add more warnings!

This was a commission so some aspects were made to fit the commissioner. If you're interested in commissioning me, just shoot me a message!

--

A faint flame from a cigarette lighter catches your eye from across the alley. Shifting your gaze up from your phone you see the man who lit a fresh one. The smell of smoke tingles your nose, and you inhale deeply. It’s been a while since you’ve had one; in fact, it might have been around this time last year when your best friend stole a pack from her shitty ex before moving across the country.

You’re not sure what it is: the man with the cigarette or the smell of it. Whichever, they have your attention now. He towers over you, crouched down on a milk crate during your break from the restaurant you’ve been at for the last year. His face isn’t particularly friendly, actually, he has a rather scary look graced upon his face. His frown would scare most people away, but you’re too busy looking at his dark eyes and blonde hair to really give yourself a chance to feel anything.

“What are you looking at?” He asks, aggression clear in his tone.

“You, obviously,” you shoot back. Today has been rough enough with rude customers, a shitty manager, and two of the kitchen staff walking out. “Why are you even in this alleyway? You don’t work here.”

He blows smoke out, a cloud covering his face. You suppose that’s the only answer you’re going to get. He finishes another long drag then tosses the burnt-out cigarette to the ground, smashing it into the concrete with the toe of his black shoes.

“Whatever dude, just don’t hang out here too long. My boss comes out here and shoos people away with brooms if they’re not supposed to be here.” You stand up, dusting off the back of your pants and looking up at the man who towers over you, even standing at your tallest.

Something between a laugh and a scoff leaves his body, but you ignore it. It’s his problem if Brad decides to give him hell later.

--

The rest of your shift drags with so few customers. What feels like an hour turns out to have been only ten minutes, and on and on and on. You make it to your last break before closing with your sanity barely intact. You hang up your server apron and step outside into the alleyway to take your break out in the cool night air.

You stop midway through the entry, noticing the strange man is still there, leaning against the brick wall of the boutique next door. After a moment of frowning at him, you go to your favorite spot on the milk crate across from him and fast enough away from the dumpster that you won’t get sick to your stomach.

“I see you’re still waiting here,” you say leaning your elbows onto your knees and holding your chin up.

“And you’re here again,” he adds, seeming somewhat more friendly than before.

“I’m shocked Brad didn’t come run you off,” you comment.

“He knows better than to do that,” he tells you, reaching into his pocket and pulling out a near empty pack of cigarettes. “The prick hasn’t shown his face all afternoon. I’m getting impatient.”

“You’re waiting on him?” Your curiosity is getting the best of you.  “What could you possibly want with Brad?”

Not to shit on him, but he’s not the most charismatic guy. Nor is he someone who would go looking for trouble. Which you assume this man in the alley is.

“He owes my boss a debt,” is all he says and then outs the half-smoked cigarette out on the brick behind him. He takes a step forward and kneels down to your level, so he’s face to face with you. “So, tell me, is he even in that shithole restaurant or not?”

“I haven’t seen him all day, but he could be in the office.” You shrug, then hold out your hand. “For a cigarette, I’ll go get him for you.”

The blonde frowns, “What if he’s not there?”

“I’ll give you his phone number and you can harass him that way, I guess.”

“Wow,” he laughs, a smile creeping on his cheeks. “You’d sell out your boss for a single cigarette. I can only imagine what my boss would think of this.”

You shrug and smile. “It’s not like Brad inspires loyalty here. Like you said, it’s a shithole. So, are you giving me one or not?”

He holds out the pack and you take one, his last one. “Thanks, now let me have a light.” You tuck it between your lips as he lights the end for you.

The first taste of nicotine and smoke secures your decision. It is worth it.   

--

“Hey Brad, can you help me out back? Someone flipped the dumpster over again and I can’t get it back on my own,” you ask sweetly, leaning against the door frame of his office.

“Jesus Christ, why does this keep happening?” He rubs his face in frustration then stands up.

You let him lead the way through the kitchen and out the back. Brad freezes in the doorway and you laugh, making him turn around and look at you. He looks furious, but he steps outside anyway. You follow him, curious to see what’s going to happen with the stranger and Brad.

It’s quick, so quick you barely see it. One second Brad is standing, the next he’s on the ground with a clearly broken jaw. Before you can register more, a foot is in his stomach and he’s coughing up blood. Brad isn’t exactly the best boss in the world, but you’re not sure if he deserves this. Then again, you don’t know what he’s done to elicit this sort of response from the stranger.

“You should leave,” he barks out after another kick to Brads stomach.

You look up and see he’s smiling, actually smiling. You smile back, unsure why you’re reacting this way. You’re not even sure if it’s out of character for you really, but maybe you’re just in shock.  

Brad is a bloody mess after another ten minutes of being beat. Whatever he did, you’re sure he won’t do it again. You watch the whole time, not really sure why you’re so interested. You’ve never hated your boss, but something about this is so horrific you can’t look away. The blonde man’s knuckles are covered in blood by the time he’s done, he leans back against the brick wall.

“Cigarette?” He asks, offering up a fresh pack from his back pocket.

You nod, taking another and his lighter with it. “So, what did Brad do to deserve that?” You ask, tossing the lighter back to him.

“He owes my boss a lot of money.” He shrugs then pulls out a rag from his pocket to wipe his hands off with.

“I have to close up the restaurant, so if you want you can wash them off inside.” You offer, blowing smoke towards him. “Afterall, I’m sure he won’t say anything about it.” You point at Brad on the ground. You can see his chest barely rising and falling.

“Alright,” he shrugs and walks through the kitchen door and into the restaurant.

You follow him in, tossing the cigarette butt on the ground. The man is already washing his hands in the dish sink when you’re inside, so you lock the back door to start closing. “Should I call someone to help Brad?”

“I don’t care what you do. Just don’t say I was here, or you’ll regret it.” The threat comes out of him so smoothly you almost don’t realize that it is one.

“Alright,” you decide against calling an ambulance or the police. Whatever mess he got himself into, he can get himself out of it.

Before you give yourself time to ponder what kind of person that thought process makes you, you grab a broom and go about your normal closing tasks. After a few minutes your mind is heavier than ever with thoughts about today’s sequence of events. The restaurant is fully swept by the time the stranger comes out of the kitchen and into the dining room. With Brad gone, it’s just you and this man in the entire place.

“What’s your name,” you ask, emptying the dustpan into the garbage by the kitchen door.

He gives you a suspicious look but answers, “Phinks.”

“I’m -----,” you tell him before he leaves, not looking back.

--

Weeks pass and you’re not surprised to find out that Brad was let go from the Restaurant, making it chaotic to function until they found his replacement. Phinks crosses your mind every time you go out to take a break behind the building, but you haven’t seen him since that night he showed up. You’re not exactly sure why he crosses your mind so often, but you do find yourself fantasizing about the way his hair would feel tangled in your fingers.

Today is one of those days.

It’s been a slow afternoon. Plus, your new manager, Theresa, has been on everyone’s asses about side work. It seems redundant since everyone knows what they need to do anyway. It’s days like this where you actually miss Brad’s laidback management style, even with all his faults.

However, your breaks seem to come faster now that you’re busier. When you step outside, you can’t help but glance around, looking for Phinks. As usual, he’s not there. You take a seat on your trust milkcrate and pull up twitter on your phone. Part of you wants to search his name, knowing there can’t be too many people with it, but the other part is calling you a crazy stalker.

“Smoke?” A gruff voice breaks you from your train of thought and you look up to see none other than the man you considered cyber stalking.

“Please,” you reply, a bit breathless. He hands you a cigarette and the lighter he offered. “Here to commit another crime?” You tease with the cigarette between your lips.

“Not today. Just passing by.” He tells you, taking a seat on another milk crate.

The quite tension between you builds with each second passes with neither of you speaking. It’s apparent he wasn’t just passing by since you’ve never seen him in this area before. Considering you spend nearly every day within a few blocks of the restaurant or your apartment nearby, you just know he’s had to gone out of his way to come here.

You put out the cigarette on the concrete below. “So, why are you here?”

He rolls his eyes, not speaking still.

“Are you stalking me?” You ask, half joking.

“Totally, I just can’t get enough of you.” He says smoothly with a glimmer in his eye.

“I guess I should be scared then,” you lean forward, your face now only a few inches from him.

“Most people are scared when I’m around, that wouldn’t surprise me.”

You grin as he starts to smirk. “I’m not, though.”

“You must be incredibly stupid then,” he adds, leaning even closer to you. You’re face to face with him now.

“Or,” you roll your eyes, ignoring the fact he just insulted you, “you’re not as scary as you think.”

He pulls back, and you feel like you’ve said the wrong thing. However, you notice he starts to look around. Almost like he’s checking for something. Before you can take another breath, his hand has moved to your face, fingers gripping you sternly but somehow without hurting you.

You feel his lips brush against yours, and you inhale quickly before you’re able to react. Slowly, you allow yourself to give in, kissing him back. He tastes like cigarettes and mint, something you hadn’t expected. He must have been chewing gum earlier today, or it’s the taste of his toothpaste. The thought almost makes you giggle.

He pulls away, “Let’s get out of here.” A statement, not a question.

Without hesitation you follow him. Fuck working and fuck that bitch Theresa.

Phinks lead you a way down the street, not looking ack to see if you’re following. He must trust that you would have followed him despite not giving an answer. He brings you down another alley and to a sleek black car. He’s opening the door before you can try and see what kind of car it is, not that it matters now.

You slide in the backseat, and he follows you, pushing you back against the seat. The door slams shut as he hovers over you, looking at you like you’re the most glorious thing he’s ever laid his eyes on. You reach up, pulling him down onto you by his shirt. He kisses you again and your body ignites. Heat flutters through you from your head to toes.

His body is heavy against you. Your hands wander down his chest and to his stomach, feeling each crevice of his abs. You moan as he bites your bottom lip gently, pulling it between his teeth and releasing it. Your eyes flutter open, and you realize what’s going to happen next.

“Please tell me you have a condom.”

“Shut up, I’m not that stupid.” He grumbles, reaching to the front seat. He drops the condom on your stomach and smirks. “My lady,” he teases.

“You shut up now.” You roll your eyes and start to pull his shirt over his head.

He helps you, shrugging it off and tossing it to the front seats. You can’t help but stare at his form laid bare in front of you. Every bit of his skin is smooth and toned to perfection. You can only imagine how he’s managed to get his body in this shape, but that just makes your mind start to run wild with images of him hot and sweaty in the gym. 

He reaches for your top; his fingers are cold on your skin as he starts to pull it up off you. Sitting up, you grab his arms to pull yourself up. As your top comes off, you let go, falling back against the leather seats of his car.

Phinks smiles at you, taking you in as you manage to unclasp your bra behind you. He leans down, kissing your neck. Slowly, your body reacts, a rush flowing through you and making your toes curl.

How long has it been since you’ve done this? You can’t remember. Your body knows it’s been too long and is reacting faster than you can think. Part of you is embarrassed by the way you feel like moaning already, but the other is screaming for you to let it out. So, you do.

Your moan cuts through the quiet sounds of his lips on your skin and you feel him throb against your stomach. You’re glad you let that out.

“Fuck this,” he growls in your ear while forcing his pants down his thighs.

You follow, wiggling under him to manage to get out of your work jeans. You struggle getting them off your ankles; Phinks pulls them off and drops them on the floorboard. Now you’re left in your underwear, and Phinks is completely nude on top of you. You take a few moments to admire his body above yours, toned and golden.

With his right hand, he grazes his fingers down your side, sending shockwaves through your body. His fingers loop through the waistband of your underwear and he smiles wickedly.

“I like these,” he snaps the black fabric against your skin, and you laugh. “But, not enough to keep them.”

With both hands, he grips your panties, pulling them apart and ripping them off your body in one tug. If you hadn’t already been aroused, this would have surely done it for you. His fingers tease your clit, surprising you at his first move to tease you. You bite your bottom lip, closing your eyes and enjoying the feeling.

“No, I want you to watch,” he stops moving his fingers, and you whine but open your eyes. “That’s better, pretty girl.”

You watch as his fingers slide down, teasing your entrance and glistening with your wetness. His middle fingers slides in first, just a few centimeters and you feel the urge to close your eyes and just lay back and let him do whatever he wants, but you don’t. You bite back a moan and watch as he pleases you.

He pumps his finger fully in you, and out, and then back in again. You moan loudly, fingers digging into the leather seat of his car. Your chest rises and falls as he keeps teasing you, adding another finger and filling you up more. You grip his wrist with your right hand, your left steadying you on the seat as his fingers move faster, fucking you harder.

“Fuck,” you whimper breathlessly.

Phinks leans forward and kisses you, his tongue slipping between your lips while he finger fucks you. You kiss him back, desperate for the closeness. His fingers pull out of you quickly, leaving you gasping for air against his lips and clenching around nothing.

“Fuck you,” you say quietly, looking at his stupid grin that’s full of excitement. He knows exactly what he’s doing to you.

“Oh, I will.” You feel the tip of his cock prod at you between your legs and you grin.

He’s so much thicker than you expected, even after seeing him. You gasp as he slides in you, adjusting to his size while tears prick at the corner of your eyes. Stretching around his cock, you moan feeling that oh so familiar pleasant sting. He thrusts in you a few times, slowly letting you adjust. You’d be insulted with anyone else, but you desperately need to adjust to the mass of him.

After a few rough thrusts Phinks wraps his arms around you, and you hook your legs around his waist. You almost yelp as he readjusts you so you’re ready to ride him as he sits back. The arrogant smile on his lips doesn’t piss you off but challenges you instead. You know you’re going to give him the best ride he’s ever had.

Slowly, you grip his shoulders, pressing your breasts up close to his face and his smile turns down with a more serious gaze. You rise up once, feeling his cock slip out of you slowly almost until it’s ready to fall out until taking it back in, to the hilt.

Now, it’s his turn to tip his head back and let out the most glorious sound you’ve ever heard. His moans fill the silence in the car, and you clench around his cock. It only makes him moan louder, a glorious sound coming from deep inside his throat.  You smile, pressing a kiss you his neck and running your tongue across the soft skin.

You feel his body shiver under you, and you want to whine at the pure satisfaction of it all. Something about Phinks looking completely at your whim now is so opposite of what you’d seen of him before. It’s thrilling really, knowing you have all the power even if he could snap you in half if he wanted; but instead, he wants to let you pleasure him while you get off on his cock.

“I’m not going to make it much longer,” you whimper, your pace now consistent as you ride him. “I need to cum, now.”

“You can wait,” he coos, slipping his hands down to your hips and slowing your pace. He guides you his fingers digging into your skin.

His lips are on yours again and he takes your bottom lip between his teeth, biting hard. You cry out as he laughs, but a surge of energy goes through you making you tingle all over. Your toes curl as he thrusts up into you, shocking you.

“Fuck, oh fuck” you moan as he continues to fuck you while holding your hips still. Maybe this is really why he wanted you on top because now he has all the control. All that’s left to do is hold onto his shoulders and hope your nails aren’t hurting him too badly.

“Cum,” he says quietly, just against your ear before nipping at the lope with his teeth. It takes you off guard.

You cum, crying out a mix of his name and fuck, not really sure where one ends and the other begins. Your toes curl and your legs go weak. If you weren’t on top of him, with his hands steadying you, you’re sure you would have collapsed.

He’s still fucking you, only slower now and you start to wonder if he’s going to cum soon. Or if he’s someone who could go on forever until you’re a babbling mess unable to form a single thought from being so overstimulated. Part of you wants to see if he could accomplish that but the other part knows you desperately want to make him cum now.

As you’re lost in the afterglow of pleasure and thought, you feel his cock twitch. He’s going to cum, you realize. It makes you force another soft moan, wanting to encourage him but unable to formulate words.

Phinks cums, or at least you suspect since he stops fucking you. The condom didn’t bust at least, you think. It’s a few moments before he settles you down on his lap after pulling out of you and removing the condom. You don’t pay attention to what he does with it, just hoping he didn’t liter and throw it outside of the car.

You let your body relax against his, the warmth radiating off you both. It’s silent for the most part, besides the quiet pants Phinks lets out every other breath. You relish in it, knowing this could either be the first or last time this happens. Either way, you’re happy with what’s happened even if you were limited to the space of the car.

His loss, you think.

“You’re not going back to that damned restaurant, alright?” He breaks the silence, and you furrow your brows.

“Whatever,” you roll your eyes, knowing he can’t see your reaction with your cheek against his chest and eyes looking down away from his face.

“I’m serious,” he laughs this time. “Fuck, you’re so much better than I imagined.”

You laugh this time, was he getting himself off imagining this over the last few weeks? “Weirdo,” you comment, not meaning it at all.

A few more minutes pass until he moves you off his lap and onto the seat beside him. He wraps his arms around your shoulder. “You’re mine now.”

#🍃.writing #🍃.hxh #hxh smut #hunter x hunter smut #phinks smut

[lxmiko]

stumbling confessions with mysta rias . . .

— ☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ—

okay so i might’ve accidentally posted my draft instead of saving it and then consequently couldn’t turn it back into a draft so here’s a screenshot of the request :D, also @liykaii (just so you see this too !!) sorry for the confusion if anyone saw me post that ^^;;

also, i wrote this more shy and awkward!mysta instead of tsundere!mysta, cause i personally don’t see him as such ;; hope that’s okay !

character(s): mysta rias

— *✧･ﾟ: * —

mysta likes you so, so much.

but he hates how much it makes him a klutz around you. he hates the tremor in his voice and the way his hands shake when he sees you, that he’s always at a loss of words, and that he’s so awkward and shy, and it’s so infuriating —

— but he likes you so, so much.

and he wants to tell you so, so badly.

it’s at your planned hangout (though mysta calls it a date in his head) that he decides it’s time as he stands in front of the corner bakery (that sells mysta’s favorite chocolate cake, as much as he’s allergic to it).

he shifts his weight from side to side, too focused on hiding the quivering of his hands behind his back to notice the strangers sending him concerned looks as they pass.

he’s so goddamn nervous, and everytime he looks left and right, he can’t tell if he’s going to be afraid or excited to see you pop from around a corner with that pretty smile of yours.

but he’s ready, he thinks, and he might as well have had a speech prepared with how long he stayed up last night worrying, but every thought flies out of his head the moment he spots you walking down the sidewalk, scanning the area for him.

the way your eyes light up when they meet his makes his heart stutter, and he can feel the sunshine radiating from you as you make your way toward him.

“mysta — ” you start, but in a hurry, he interrupts you.

“ — i have something to tell you.”

he notes the way your eyes grow wide before your gaze softens, and you, after his little nod of permission, gently grasp his hands in yours. you murmur, “well?”

this is it, he tries with a jumbled mind to convince himself. just say it.

mysta parts his lips to speak, mind filled with too many words and none of them coming out as you laugh softly at him. “you don’t have to tell me now, you know?” you swing your intertwined hands between the two of you a little. “whatever it is you wanted to say.”

he shakes his head fervently, “n — no, i want to say it…” his voice quiets down to a whisper as he continues, but you still are close enough to hear his mutters anyway.

“go on,” you encourage him patiently, but alas, he tells himself, i’m not ready. he scolds himself. of course he isn’t with the way his hands shake in yours and can’t get even a single word out.

“i — ” he begins, but he never finishes, “ —nevermind,” his form slumps as he releases the breath he didn’t know he was holding. you smile at him anyway when he leans his head onto your shoulder and run a hand through the grey-brown strands. “sorry,” the apology is muffled into your skin as he sighs, but you continue your ministrations without pause.

you whisper loud enough so he can hear, and you feel his body relaxing with every word. “that’s okay,” he hums when your nails graze lightly against his scalp. “take as long as you need.”

mysta is someone of many words (whether they made sense when he babbled them or not), but today, he isn’t. he needs time, and you didn’t mind.

you’ll wait for him forever, through thick and thin and anything the two of you might encounter;

through every last one of his stumbling confessions, you’ll wait and like him back just as much as you did from the first.

and you know he’d do the same for you.

— ☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ—

the amount of brain power it took to write this is actually insane, i think my brain needs a break after this one ;; but i managed to post it earlier this week since @mimi-mystake (my beta reader) proofread for me hehe ^^ thank you very much mimi muah <33

#luxiem x reader #luxiem #nijien #nijisanji #nijisanji en #mysta rias x reader #mysta rias

[dailymobpsychodrabbles]

ageswap terumob first KISS >:)

Word count: 1k

Pairing: terumob

Tags: ageswap, sick fic, first kiss

Kageyama is, in fact, the cleanest person Teru has ever met.

The initial thought he had the first time he walked into Kageyama's apartment was empty. There wasn't a whole lot to occupy the small space. A cot in the corner, a small TV stand with an even smaller TV atop it, a kitchenette with a single dish towel looped through one of the cabinet handles.

And that was it. No pictures, no posters, not even really any knick knacks except a single white ceramic cat in front of the TV.

So when Teru uses the spare key to Kageyama's apartment and pushes open the door to a mess, he's shocked, to say the least.

“Kageyama-kun?” Teru calls out softly, stepping over a discarded sweater and setting his keys down on the kitchen counter beside a half empty pot of soup that looks like it’s long since gone cold. It’s still daylight outside, but the apartment is coated in a thick layer of darkness from the blinds being closed. Teru walks over to them and cracks them open the slightest bit, and he’s met from a low groan coming from the cot. 

The blankets shift, and a face pops out from underneath them. “Hanazawa-kun,” Kageyama says, voice raspy and an octave lower than it usually is. He covers his mouth with his arm and coughs a few times. His whole body shakes with the effort, and the coughing fit leaves him weaker than before. “You didn’t need to come.” 

Kageyama is surrounded by dirty dishes and used tissues. Teru can’t help but smile fondly. The flu really took a toll on his friend, huh? Even though Reigen had tried to keep it contained with a mask and limited visits to Spirits and Such, he’d still managed to pass it on to his mentor. So much for that. Kageyama’s immune system isn’t exactly anything to brag about.

“From what I’m seeing, I definitely needed to come.” Teru adjusts his own face mask so it’s pinched tight around his nose. He’s come prepared with all the essentials: flu medicine, a laundry tote to take Kageyama’s dirty clothes to the laundromat, and a warm meal packed in a Hello Kitty container with a matching spoon. 

“I went ahead and took a few consultations today,” he continues, gathering a heap of worn pajamas from the ground and tossing them into the laundry basket. Kageyama’s cat curls around his leg, and Teru pauses picking up a pair of socks to scratch behind her ear. “Nothing too serious: someone had a minor curse placed on them by an ex, another thought she was haunted by a spirit, but I think it was just some stomach upset from bad sushi.” Teru scoots the basket off to the side. He’ll take it down once Kageyama has medicine and some food in him. “I left their payment in the lockbox.”

“You should’ve just-” Kageyama coughs once, wet and painful sounding, “-taken the commision for yourself, Hanazawa-kun.” 

Teru snorts. Kageyama is funny if he thinks Teru would even consider doing such a thing. 

“Reigen-kun missed you too.” Teru kneels in front of Kageyama and untucks him a little further. Kageyama curls into himself, and Teru murmurs a soft apology as he presses the back of his hand to his forehead. Yeah, definitely still has a fever. “I have to say, he’s quite the little terror. He tried to micromanage everything I did.” 

Kageyama manages a tiny smile, and Teru’s heart flutters in his chest. It’s a victory in his book if he can get the sick man to feel just a little less terrible.

It’s true, maybe he didn’t need to come. Maybe he didn’t need to fill in for Kageyama with no pay. And maybe he didn’t need to go out of his way to clear his schedule to take care of his apartment and cook a meal that took reading three different recipes and having to go back to the grocery store after burning it the first time around. But Teru would do anything for his friend. He’d drop what he’s doing in an instant to come running to his side to help him, no exceptions.

…Because that’s what friends do, right? 

Teru frowns.

“You made him do his homework?” 

“Mhm. Only took a little bit of threatening.” Teru settles on his knees and takes the lid off of the Hello Kitty container. “Can you sit up?” He holds out his hands, and Kageyama uses them as leverage to clumsily get up and sit with his legs to one side. 

Kageyama looks like he’s still half-asleep, eyes only barely cracked open and his body swaying with the effort of staying upright. Teru’s heart aches so terribly, like it’s threatening to crack open his ribs and break out of his chest. Even in the simple moments like this, he cares so much about him it hurts. He’d do anything to take the pain away, for Kageyama to get better so he can keep on helping people.

Teru swallows the heavy lump in his throat and gathers a spoonful of bone broth. “Open wide,” he instructs gently. Kageyama obeys. Eyes closed, mouth open. Teru sets the spoon on his tongue, and Kageyama swallows the broth. 

It takes a few minutes with Kageyama having to breathe through his mouth between gulps of soup and short coughing fits. By the end of it, Kageyama is so exhausted he has to lay down again. Teru manages to get some flu medicine into him before Kageyama starts to nod off once more. 

Teru is gathering the empty container and getting up to put it in the sink with the rest of the dirty dishes to scrub clean when he feels a tug on his pant leg. He glances down, and Kageyama is looking up at him with sleepy brown eyes peeking out through the bangs plastered to his forehead.

“Stay?” Kageyama murmurs. 

Oh, he’d stay forever if Kageyama asked. 

“Of course.” The dishes could wait. 

Teru settles back on the ground beside Kageyama and takes his hand in his own. Kageyama’s eyes close once more. He looks so young like this: vulnerable, the lines in his face softening as he drifts off to sleep. Teru lets his other hand card through Kageyama’s hair as his breathing deepens and his eyebrows stop furrowing. Eventually, Teru’s hand slides from Kageyama’s hair to cup his cheek, and his friend doesn’t respond. 

Asleep. Ah, Teru wishes he could doze off that easily. Insomnia is a curse.

He slips his hand away from Kageyama’s and immediately mourns the warm palm in his own, regardless of how clammy it had been. But he has laundry to do, trash to take out, dishes to clean, a cat to feed before his friend wakes up. He doesn’t want Kageyama to wake up to an empty apartment.

Teru looks at Kageyama one last time. Resting, his body recovering and repairing itself. He smiles fondly. 

“Sleep tight, Kageyama-kun.” Teru brushes back Kageyama's bangs and pulls down his mask to press a kiss to his forehead. It’s a terrible, selfish thing. He knows he should respect Kageyama’s boundaries, but…

It’s okay. It’s just one kiss.

Right?

#get dunked on #mp100 #mob psycho 100 #terumob #mobteru

[amethyst-crystalfly]

Confessions of a Dandelion

Diluc x reader, Venti x reader (platonic)

Fluff with a lil bit of crack hehe ( ^ω^ )

Warnings: mentions of alcoholism, slightly suggestive actions? I am not sure if it really counts?

A/n Hello!! I’m so glad you are here! Hope you are doing well and taking care of yourself (^ - ^) If you like my work feel free to explore more here🌸 Or simply drop by and say hi! Happy reading^o^

Diluc Ragnvindr, such a beautiful name. It flows off your tongue so effortlessly. You find yourself daydreaming about him ever so often. Thinking about him gives you butterflies all the time. You visit the tavern almost every other night after your shift at the Favonius Headquarters in hopes of catching a glimpse of the handsome owner. Although you usually just stick to drinking juice.

Today, however was different, you found yourself in company of Mondstadt’s beloved bard, Venti. He was fun to have around . Diluc wasn’t there yet, Charles was managing the counter, but you decided to stay because of the bard’s refreshing company. And before you knew it you had downed two glasses of dandelion wine. You were laughing away with Venti as if you two had been friends since forever. While sipping on your third glass of wine you ended up spilling all your secrets to him and being the ever-curious-about-other-people’s-business bard he is, he was delighted to hear about your romantic interest towards Diluc. He nudged you to tell you more and more you said. By the fourth glass you were a giggling mess.

“Oh and his eyes…did I tell you about his eyes?”

“Ah hehe yes y/n you did *hiccup* they are like flaming….cheetos?”

“No!! Like two flaming sunbirds! Or-or phoenix!”

“Eh-heh my bad, although eyes of cheetos are admirable too” ( ^ω^ )

Only a few patrons were left by this time, and those who were there were far too drunk to care about you babbling with Venti about your crush. Venti indulged you, he was having so much fun, especially considering the fact that he noticed something that skipped your attention in your drunken state. Diluc was there. He had walked in around the time when you were on your third glass of wine gushing about how you thought he was so cool and hardworking. As the night went on and you kept talking,his ears turned more and more red. Although he might pretend as if he was not bothered and simply doing his job, Venti could tell he was truly flustered. And his ears matched his hair now.

Diluc had actually come to the Tavern, wishing to see you, under the pretence of helping Charles close up. It had become a little routine of his, he tried to come help at the tavern as often as possible, in hopes of being acquainted with you. He has seen you helping people around the city many a times before. Before joining the knights of Favonius you used to help out at the adventurer’s Guild too, and Diluc knows that. He admires you for your kind soul and dedication to help others. You once fought an entire group of Hilichurls alone to save someone’s lost kittens from becoming their next meal. Armed with just a barely sturdy rod and a very recently earned vision which you weren’t even familiar with using yet. Diluc has seen you multiple times around Windrise with a book and a box of berries. On your day offs you would often go there with your satchel and read books or paint, the wind in Mondstadt has always been your friend, you are never alone, the wind always goes with you. Diluc too, has admired you for a while now.

So imagine his utter surprise when he heard you talk about how you adore him! What?? (OvO) no one told him??? The feeling was MUTUAL??

Venti couldn’t take this anymore this was too cute. Funny as it already was to watch the fearless Darknight hero be so bashful, it wasn’t enough. He wanted to take it up a few notches. So he did.

“Y/n look! Diluc! You should go and tell him how you feel else he will go away and he will never know how his eyes are like flaming cheetos!”

“Sunbirds!! And yes…you are right.. oh no-oh no he needs to know someone needs to tell him..I will tell him”

Diluc looked like a deer caught in the headlight. He didn’t know what to do as you got up, flipped your hair over your shoulders and walked towards him. Well the walk did not look as well composed as you thought it did considering the fact that you could barely walk straight. But my God you looked hot. Diluc could only watch with wide eyes as you made your way to the counter. Looked straight into his eyes and reached up and grabbed him by his collar. You tugged him forward by the collar and with your faces merely inches apart you said

“Diluc Ragvindr, you are beautiful. Your eyes…” you stumbled. There was heat blooming across your chest and the world wouldn’t hold still. It kept spinning, “…you eyes..are—are like…”

That’s when it happened. Diluc couldn’t stand this any longer. You looked so kissable at the moment. Your cheeks slightly flushed from all the alcohol, your eyes staring into his, as if searching for something, his heart was about to beat out of his chest. He had to do it, so he did. He cupped the side of your face with one hand and kissed you. At first you were surprised then you returned the kiss with equal fervour. You leaned into his touch and the hand that was on his collar made it’s way to the back of his neck while you put your other hand on his chest. Diluc leaned forward across the counter and wrapped his free arm around your waist pulling your torso closer. Venti and Charles who were the only remaining people at the tavern by this point, took this as their cue to leave and hurriedly departed. When the two of you finally pulled back for air you two were left gasping and panting yet wanting more. Diluc made his way across the counter towards the side you were on, looked you in the eyes, grabbed your waist with both hands and in one Swift strong motion of his arms lifted you on the bar counter. You wrapped your legs around his waist and pulled him closed with your hands grabbing his shirt again and—-and then you passed out and almost fell off the counter. Thanks to Master Diluc’s quick reflex, he caught you. He quietly chuckled to himself and shook his head. He couldn’t quite believe what just transpired between the two of you. Well thankfully he did have a personal room upstairs in the tavern for days he couldn’t make it back to Dawn Winery. So he scooped you up in his arms and lovingly bridal carried you to the room upstairs and gently laid you down.

He is a gentle man so he won’t share the bed with you obviously…or well he wasn’t going to…until you tugged on his hand and drowsily asked him to stay with you. When you wake up the next day you are probably going to be embarrassed but for now, who cares? It’s just you and him, him and you. For tonight, there is nothing but the giddiness of new love.

#diluc x y/n #genshin impact #genshin #genshin brainrot #diluc ragnvindr #genshin fluff #genshin imagines #diluc fluff #genshin diluc #master diluc #diluc x fem!reader #fluff #venti fluff #genshin venti #diluc x reader #diluc headcanons #diluc

[forays-into-fiction]

Blood That Drives Us

Part 5.

Masterlist ~ Previous ~ Next

I’m sorry for what I did, but I’m not sorry I did it

You had called in sick on a few too many of your shifts at family video, any of those that you shared with Steve at least. Since that last shift after your fight, you didn’t think you could handle that again any time soon, but now it had come time to face the music.

The air is thick with tension, when he sees you stepping through the door, bell tinkling above you. You flip over the ‘back in five minutes’ sign before approaching the counter cautiously.

“Hey.” You manage weakly with a slight wince.

“Oh, look who finally decided to show up today?” He snarks back.

“Please, don’t Steve. Please, can we not fight anymore?” You lean against the counter between the two of you.

“Are you ready to admit that you’re wrong about Munson?”

“I’m not wrong.” You state firmly, before sighing “But, I am sorry for how things went down. I know I should have been honest with you from the start, even if it wouldn’t have changed anything.”

“Why are you so set on protecting him, y/n? Where did this come from?”

“Because he needs someone, he’s said he’ll try to come and see the rest of the gang when he’s ready. There’s just something he’s been working on before he can do that, needs to be comfortable with himself. I’m not going to push him to do anything he’s not ready for, but if it makes you feel better, I can make sure you’re one of the first people he sees.”

His eyes narrow and he crosses his arms over his chest as he contemplates what you’ve just said, “The sooner the better, alright? I really do have to see what’s going on for myself.”

You smile softly, grateful that he’s more willing to hear you out now, it seems, “Ok, I get that and you will. I know you’re just trying to look out for everyone, but sometimes you gotta trust that I know what I’m doing.”

“I know… it’s just, you’ve been acting different lately… it’s like there’s something not quite right with you and I think it is because of him. Look, I know I barely know the guy, but I know you and I can’t put my finger on it but something is off.”

“I think you’re just a little on edge and that’s understandable. All the shit that’s happened because of that place, but I promise I haven’t changed. I’m still me and I wanna say Eddie is still Eddie, but you’re right neither of us really knew him before all of this so we aren’t really the best judges on that. Dustin though, he was closest to him, so would you listen to it if it came from him that Eddie is safe?”

“Yeah, yeah that actually makes sense. Ok, fine that’s how we’ll play it.”

“Thank you, you know for listening this time.”

“Yeah, I’m sorry. Sorry I lost my shit before, but-”

“I know… So, now that that’s blown over, how ‘bout we get to work and you can catch me up on what’s been going on with you? And no more Munson talk for the rest of the day.” You move to flip the sign back over.

He chuckles and gives you a lopsided grin, “Yeah, ok so get this…”

The two of you fall back into rhythm easily after your little heart-to-heart and when you enter his car at the end of the day, you notice he’s left the radio tuned in to your station. You don’t comment on it like you probably would in other circumstances, but you grin at the realisation that even though the two of you weren’t talking some small part of him was still thinking about you.

When you get to your place you linger at his car, leaning through the open passenger side window.

He looks over to you from his seat, “I’ll see you tomorrow, yeah? Half-shift? Taking over from Robin, right?”

You nod, “Yep, you wanna hang out after close?”

“Sure, what you got in mind?”

“How ‘bout another trip to the trailer park?” You giggle.

“Oh, haha very funny, so glad you can make jokes about that now.”

“Honestly doesn’t matter though, we can do whatever, just missed you ya know?”

“Yeah, I missed you too, I had to go almost three whole weeks without one of my best buds.”

You gasp in mock outrage, “’ONE OF’ you take that back I am THE best bud, ok. No offence to like Robin or Dustin, but I’ve been here longer, even saw you through your ‘King Jerkface’ days.”

“I was never that bad to you, though… right?”

You can see the flash of guilt in his eyes, the uncertainty, you reassure him, “No, you were never bad to me… well, you did have your moments, but nothing that bad. Certainly, not as bad as the time you said I was just the ‘nerdy little girl your parents forced you to spend time with at the company Christmas parties’.”

“Oh my God, you’re never going to let me forget that are you? I was like twelve, what do you expect?”

“I’m just teasing, Stevie.” You giggle at him before stepping away from the car and giving him a wave, “Bye.”

He grumbles, “Ugh, see ya. Don’t know why I ever even missed you in the first place.”

“It’s cause ya love me…” You tease.

“Whatever, just get inside already… and don’t forget to talk to Munson, ok?”

“You got it.” You reply giving a mock salute.

He throws an arm over the seat beside him, glancing over his shoulder as he reverses out of your driveway. He gives you a lazy three finger wave before driving off.

Your parents aren’t home yet so you decide to just call from the bottom of the stairs, “Eddie, you here?!”

There’s a pause before the silence is broken, “Yeeaaaah, in your bedroom!”

You grin, practically skipping up the stairs, today was going well in your books. When you get to your room you see him propped up on the floor by your bed, another one of your books in hand, one of his cassettes playing on your radio. The music plays softly in the background and he looks up at you as you enter closing the book around his fingers, shifting into his wingless form.

You take a seat beside him and turning to him you both go to talk at once.

“How was-”

“I’m glad you-”

“You first.” He offers.

“Glad you stuck around, I told you it’d be fine staying the night, last night.”

“How was work? Steve treat you alright this time?” You’re impressed that he’s managing to hold a conversation and maintain his ‘human’ appearance.

“Yeah, yeah, we uh actually made up, I guess. Gonna hang out with him tomorrow night.” Your face begins to drop though, as you remember your promise to Steve.

“That’s good right, why don’t you seem happier about that?”

“It’s uh, complicated. See, we talked about you, obviously and um… Steve wants to see you. I told him you’d been planing on seeing the rest of the gang when you could, but that I wasn’t going to push you to do anything you weren’t ready for. I hope… I hope that’s ok.”

“Of course, that’s ok, but um… I still don’t think I’m ready to see everyone just yet.”

“Eds, that’s totally ok. How about if it was just Steve? I can be there with you if you want, right by your side.”

“You uh, you realise you just called me ‘Eds’, right?”

“Oh, shit sorry… do you um not like that… is it ok if I call you that?”

“No, no it’s fine you can call me whatever… it’s just I’m not really used to it.”

“So, uh what do you say to meeting up with Steve?”

“Oh… do I have to?” He whines.

“I mean you don’t have to. I won’t make you, but look you’ve maintained this whole conversation without the vampire popping out, not once.”

“Really? Shit, I almost didn’t even have to think about it this time.”

“That’s great, I’m so proud of you!” You beam over at him and he preens at your praise.

You continue, “I really think you’ll be alright talking to Steve and I’ll be there if anything goes wrong, ok?”

“If… if you say so then, yeah sure.” He shrugs.

“Perfect, maybe I can invite him over for a movie night after work tomorrow and you can join us. Low impact interaction and if you feel uncomfortable at any point you can hide out in my bedroom, sound good?”

“Yeah, I’ll try… uh, for you.”

You smile brightly and throw your arms around him, “Thanks, Eds. I really am so proud of you for this.”

He stiffens against you, doesn’t know what to do with his arms, they sit frozen by his sides, book falling from his grip his and his psychic mask drops. You jump back feeling his unease, “Sorry, I shouldn’t have-”

“No, it’s fine you just surprised me is all… no one’s hugged me in a long time… not that many people hugged me before, but still.” He shrugs not meeting your eye, flushing bright red against his scars.

You nudge him, “Hey, do you… do you like hugs? Do you want to be hugged?”

He looks at you like you’ve just sprouted a second head, “Well, yeah who doesn’t like hugs?”

“Plenty of people, for all different reasons and it can change depending on the situation too. Like Robin for example, I know she doesn’t like unexpected hugs, it’s like a sensory thing or something. So, with her I just let her initiate the hug. Make sense?”

“Uh yeah, I guess… and I do want hugs by the way, but maybe next time don’t just tackle me. And for sure watch yourself with the horns and the wings and shit, don’t want you to take your eye out.”

You giggle at him, “Sure thing Eds... D’ya want a hug now?”

He looks away again shyly, mumbling, “Um, yeah… yes, please.”

His reaction is so adorable you just wanna burst, you move to wrap your arms around him again but he stops you holding up his hand.

“Wait. Wait a minute. Let me try changing back to, ya know, ‘normal’ me.”

“If that makes you feel more comfortable, sure thing.”

It takes him a second, his face screwed up in concentration before he looks back over at you, his mask back in place, “Is that… did I do it?”

“Yep, come here…” you spread your arms, popping up to rest on your knees facing him.

He slots himself into place in your arms still a little tense, but he relaxes into you when your arms wrap around him. Even though you can’t see them you can feel the joint of his wings on his back as your hands slip under the membrane when they move to encircle him. You pretend you don’t though, no need to make him feel self-conscious and he doesn’t mention it, instead sighing contentedly when you begin rubbing your hands in circles.

You let him pull away first, allowing him to take as much time as he needs, poor guy must be so touch-starved it hurts, you think.

When he does, he gives you a shaky little thanks, sighing yet again.

He looks at you but can’t meet your eye, gaze instead settling somewhere around your nose, mumbling, “I uh, I really needed that. I guess I didn’t even realise how much.”

“Hey, it’s no problem, what are friends for?” You grin at him, “You ever need a hug, you know where to find me.” You give him a playful punch to the shoulder.

“Yep, so… what’re your plans for tonight?”

“Hmmm… dunno, mum already has dinner sorted in the fridge. Probably too late to squeeze in a movie before the parents get home. We could just hang out here listen to your music, you can keep reading…” You trail off.

“Yeah, ok cool.” He picks up the book from the floor beside him and settles back into his original position, flipping through the pages to find his place.

You stand moving to find something to keep you occupied too, deciding on your sketch pad. You lay on your bed flat on your stomach doodling away, humming along to the music. 

You’d been surprised to find that you actually quite liked some of Eddie’s music, you recognised the song playing now as Rainbow in the Dark by Dio, you knew the tape would be finishing soon only one more song left. 

You glance over at him still absorbed in the book, still maintaining his ‘human’ appearance, you grin. When the tape does end you put on another one grabbing it at random from the few sitting beside the radio. It turns out to be another one of his, Iron Maiden, the cover art depicting some sort of zombie.

When you take your seat once again on the bed, leaning back on the pillows this time, he glances up at you opening his mouth as if to say something but then closes it abruptly before returning to his book.

You’re hit with the sudden urge to cuddle up with him, so you decide to speak up, “Hey, Eds I think I need some cuddles now, d’ya think…”

“Oh, for sure absolutely. I was… I was actually going to ask you, but I didn’t wanna seem too needy or whatever.”

“Come up here on the bed.” You pat the space beside you, “If we cuddle up real close, we should fit alright.”

He scrambles to join you, the book hanging loosely in his grip and you shift forward so he can squeeze in behind you. You settle back against his chest and his arm wraps around you shakily, “Is this, ok?” He asks for confirmation.

“Perfect, hey do you think you could read your book aloud to me?”

“Yeah sure, if you want.” He replies mildly surprised.

The combination of his voice and the music crackling through the speakers of your radio is enough to lull you to sleep and you do so, head resting against his shoulder. He carefully extricates himself from underneath you, turning off the radio before turning back to you and covering you best he could with the quilt beneath you not wanting to disturb you too much.

He’s utterly perplexed by your behaviour today, you’d never been this touchy-feely with him before. He’d noticed how flippant you could be with your affection just seeing you around school and the town before but he’d never thought he’d be on the receiving end. A warmth bubbles up in his chest, but he’s quick to quash it back down, remembering his little vampire predicament. He couldn’t let this continue, he was only digging himself into a deeper pit.

You come to in the middle of the night only to find that Eddie has disappeared, you sigh flipping the covers off of you, stripping down and changing into some pyjamas before getting into your bed properly and staring at the ceiling. Had you scared him off, made him uncomfortable somehow, surely, he’d be back tomorrow for movie night, right?

But then you notice a breeze coming through your open window, a plume of smoke coming along with it. You move over to the window, leaning out to see Eddie there, cigarette in hand.

“Hey, I thought you’d left.”

He turns, shifting abruptly to his ‘human’ form, “What are you doing up, go back to bed.”

“Alright, dad.” You remark sarcastically prodding his arm, “Why’re you out here? …oh right ‘cause you’re smoking, duh. Sorry, just woke up not really thinking straight.”

“Yeah, ‘cause I’m smoking. But also ‘cause when your parents got home one of ‘em came in to check on you, had to hide.”

“Ahh yeah, I didn’t think of that either. Why don’t you come back in when you’re done?” You suggest.

 “Oh, uh… ok. I mean I was planning on staying out here just in case, but…”

A flash of an image of him holding you close, wrapped up under the covers together in your bed passes through your mind bringing with it a warmth to your cheeks.

 “Ummm, maybe… maybe we could cuddle again, help me get back to sleep?” You suggest awkwardly shifting on your feet.

 “I dunno… are you… are you sure you wanna do that? I don’t think we should. What if your parents come to check on you again or…”

 “’S fine if you don’t wanna. Don’t want to make you uncomfortable, just thought it be nice.”

 “It would be nice.” He sighs, “… alright, if you want, we can cuddle. Just a friendly little cuddle.”

 You can’t quite make sense of the feeling that follows when you agree, “Yeah, friendly cuddles.”

 He waves his cigarette “I’ll be in, in a sec just go get comfy.”

You crawl back into bed and he follows not long after.

“So, just like before right?” He asks warily.

“Yep, come here.” You make grabby hands at him and he chuckles.

“Alright, scoot.”

He settles in laying over the covers, rather than getting in bed with you properly. He’s still a little tense at first, but when he does relax his hand comes to stroke at your hair and he hums a tune that sounds vaguely familiar.

It’s nice, but you’re not sure where the idea to cuddle came from, you wouldn’t normally push your luck with him like this. You doze off before you can contemplate it any further.

Previous ~ Next

Taglist: @boofy1998​ @hellfireclub-86​

#eddie munson fic #vampire!eddie #vampire! eddie munson #eddie x reader #vampire!eddie x reader #vampire!au #post canon #post canon fic #eventual smut #fluff #eddie munson x reader #vampire!eddie munson x reader

[naussensei]

Sukiya AU Levi leaves work at exactly 5.07. It takes him five minutes to put away his papers, and another two to wipe the coffee stains off his table before he heads to the elevator.

Today however, he’s been looking at his watch since 4.40, and as soon as the smaller needle hits 5, Levi is up and sprinting towards the elevator. He needs to go home and change before the traffic becomes too heavy.

Once at the gym his anxiety spikes again for a moment. The guy who signed him up last week and showed him how to use the machines isn’t there. There are only a handful of men in their skin-tight sweatshirts lifting what seems to be like Levi’s entire body weight.

He tries to ignore the eyes on him and start his work out. 

On a second glance Levi recognizes one of them. The blond one was there yesterday too, and the day before yesterday; watching Levi fail at all his attempts to use the machines. At least he was polite enough to look away everytime Levi looked at him.

Blond is still there, sitting on a bench with some dumbbells; as handsome as yesterday. The way his biceps curl perfectly is almost ridiculous.

The handle of the machine suddenly slipped from Levi’s hands, causing a loud clang that echoed in the room.

Blond suddenly turns, catches Levi staring. He can see blond’s lips curving slightly upwards in a half smile.

Shit.

Blond’s looking at him now. Or maybe he isn’t. Maybe he’s looking at someone behind him. There’s not much to look at, after all. He’s all skin and bones. 

But now blond walks towards him. No- he’s definitely looking at him. 

Levi panics.

Please keep walking. Please keep walking. Please keep–

“Hey,” blond’s voice is deep and soft and gentle, which makes it all much worse.

Levi’s eyes are fixed on the floor, pretending to be focused on his workout. He knows he’s not. He also knows that blond knows. 

“Hi,” Levi manages, trying his best to keep his gaze away from the drops of sweat that fall down the blond’s plump naked breasts. He’s so fit it’s intimidating.

“I noticed you’re misusing this machine,” he stands gracefully, his weight on one hip as his arm rests on the machine, muscles popping in front of Levi’s face. 

What a prick, he knows what he’s doing. He’s done it before, surely.

“What’s it to you?” Levi says.

“Uh, I happen to work here. It’s my job to make sure you don’t get injured.” His bushy eyebrows rise, and there’s something sarcastic about it that makes Levi's blood boil. He blames it on the effort it takes to lift those god damned miserable 30 kilos. 

“Why aren’t you wearing any credentials?” He never does. Levi’s been watching him closely for the past few days. 

“I’m not on my shift. But they let me come early and exercise for free.” His smile is triumphant as he reaches for the handle that Levi is holding. “May I?”

His hand, massive and veiny, slides down to grip Levi’s hand; the other one behind Levi’s back, propping him to sit closer. Levi’s stomach drops.

Hands squeeze his shoulder and Levi lets out a gasp. “Thank you.”

Blond winks, his smile is mischievous, tempting, to the point of sickening. There’s something about this man that makes Levi want to scream but he doesn’t know why.

“Any time.” 

Blond turns to leave, but Levi stops him.

“Hey…” he says. “Have I seen you before?”

The blond chuckles, his smile is smug. “I don’t think so. I would’ve remembered if we did.”

Levi swallows. Is blond hitting on him now? That would be a first. He’s never been good at telling these things.

“I have a good memory,” the man clarifies, and Levi feels like an idiot, fears his anxiety is showing on his face.

“Oh,” it’s the only thing he can say. 

The way those golden eyebrows furrow unevenly seems too familiar to ignore it.

“No, no,” Levi says, “I’ve definitely seen you before.” he’s seen that smug smile. “You were at the U of Maria gala the other day, pretty sure it was you.”

Surprise flashes before the man’s bright blue eyes.

“Ah, yes,” he looks down, smiles, there’s some colour on his cheeks. His arm now rests against the machine, making Levi sink back a little. “You were there too?”

“I was there with my college friends.” Levi says. “So you were also a student there.”

“Yeah,” The man’s smile is now faint, uninviting. Levi takes it as the end of their conversation.

“Thank you for the tips,” Levi says, rising to move to the next machine.

“It’s no problem.”

“I’ll uh…” he raises a hand awkwardly, “ I’ll see you, then.” 

“See you.” The man turns, Levi watches him take a step, then turn again. “I’m Erwin, by the way.”

”Levi.” He offers his hand, which the man takes timidly, to Levi’s surprise, his handshake is softer than he expected. His smile is wide, charming. 

“Nice to meet you, Levi.”

More Than Meets the Eye

#Eruri #erwin x levi #college AU #Friends to lovers #mutual pining

[obsessedwithegos]

“ what did they do to you? ” with Dor / “ you’ve been so quiet. what’s on your mind? ” with Emil / “ why are you looking at me like that? ” with Nilam

To prevent the post being too long, the 2nd and 3rd ones are going under the cut! :>

“ what did they do to you? ” with Dor CWs for past drowning as a torture method, medical inaccuracies, whumpee attempting to push caretakers away, ex lady whumpee caretaker, comfort at end i promise

Cade and Harmonia helped carry Dor back to the base, Ellis and Ester stayed behind to personally deal with the devil that had taken them under the belief that they were still a demon. 

Dor was completely soaked from head to hoof with water, every time they coughed their entire body shook and sometimes water would come up as well. They couldn’t even stand by themself due to how weak they were. 

Once inside the base, Cade looked at Harmonia “Go get some towels, I’ll bring them to their room.” 

She nods and shifts so he could take all of Dor’s weight before going to go get some towels.

Cade carries Dor to their room and carefully lays them down in their bed, figuring he could wash their sheets later for them. 

His ear twitches as he hears them groan. “What did they do to you?” He asks without thinking

“Shut up-” Dor manages to get out before going into another coughing fit. They wouldn’t die from the water in their lungs, they knew this but Lucifer it felt like they would. 

Harmonia came into the room with a pile of towels in her arms before Cade could reply to Dor. 

He helped Dor sit up so she could put towels underneath them before carefully laying them back down to cover them in some more. 

She left a folded one within reach of their hands in case they needed to grab one to move to somewhere else.

Cade looks at Harmonia “Do you want to take first watch over them?” 

She nods “Yeah, you should probably get some supplies together in case Ester or Ellis need first aid when they get back.”

“That’s a smart idea. Just shout if you or Dor need anything.” He says before heading out of the room. 

A couple minutes of silence, except for Dor’s occasional coughing, pass before any words are spoken. 

“Leave me alone.” Dor says

Harmonia looks down at them. “Not going to happen.”

“I’m not going to die. Just leave.” They move their hand to grab the towel near it to hug it close to them. 

“Dor I really don’t think-”

“LEAVE ME THE FUCK ALONE!” Dor shouts, causing them to go into a bad coughing fit. 

Harmonia was stunned for a moment, but as the coughing fit ended she reached toward Dor’s back to gently rub circles on it. “It’s okay to be scared.” 

“I’m not fucking scared.” they almost snapped back, audibly winded from their last fit

She sighed “Even if you’re not, it’d be okay if you were. It’s okay to be tired. You don’t have to be angry or tough right now. You can be weak.” 

Another moment of silence before she hears a sniffle come from Dor, she keeps rubbing their back. “I know.” she softly says

Of course she would know, how could they forget? How could they forget how scared Harmonia used to be whenever someone walked behind her when she was near water? How she still can’t handle being splashed with water balloons?

A sob breaks through Dor’s throat as they finally let down their walls for now, now that someone who understood was with them and that she had no plans to leave.

~~~~~

“ you’ve been so quiet. what’s on your mind? ” with Emil

Emil has been staying with Key and Kira for the last few days due to Tael going to visit family.

Today was a day of rest since Key was called in to cover a co-worker’s shift. 

Kira peaks their head into the library. He’s been in there all day so they were a bit concerned. 

Emil was curled in a corner with a book in his hands but he seemed zoned out. 

They walked in, trying to be careful as to not startle him “Emil?” 

Emil blinks a few times before looking up to see Kira “Hi Kira.” He greets them.

“You’ve been so quiet, what’s on your mind?” They asked, cutting straight to the chase. They were used to him talking with them to at least fill the silence when they were alone. 

He was a bit taken aback by the sudden question but glanced down to the book he was holding before closing it. “I was reading and realized the writing style was familiar.”

Kira gets closer to look at the book “Tim Burton?” 

“Mhm. It made me think about the movie The Nightmare Before Christmas. Which was my sister’s favorite movie when she was younger.” he explains.

They think for a moment “So… You’re thinking about your sister?”

He nodded, “Yeah, I miss her.”

They were very confused but sat down beside him. “Do you want to tell me about her?”

Emil looks down at the book to stare at the author’s name. “I don’t know what I can say about her. We haven’t talked in six years.” 

His sad tone further confused Kira “Isn’t that normal? Aren’t siblings generally cruel?”

He looks at them horrified “No! Or at least they’re not supposed to be!” 

~~~~~~~

“ why are you looking at me like that? ” with Nilam

CWs for past murder and grieving (Also warning for FF spoilers regarding the reason Selin was ‘killed’.)

Note: The use of ‘Mother’ here is generally talking about Tiamat, the goddess of chromatic dragons. As she’s the one that gave the god dragons their power they call her mother but aren’t actually related in any way shape or form.

It’s been two weeks since Chirvonous’s death.  Everyone has been taking it hard, Nilam thought that his worshippers would be taking it the worst but they were mistaken. 

They stared at the citrine dragon that was sitting across from them, the meeting between the remaining 5 god dragons had already been dismissed but themself and Deildrian stayed.

“Why are you looking at me like that?” Deildrian asks, breaking the silence. 

“You haven’t been getting sleep.” 

Deildrian stands up so he could depart from the table “I’ve been getting plenty of sleep.”

“The dark circles under your eyes say otherwise. As does your absentmindedness and fulfilling more of your worshippers' asks and demands than you were previously able to.” Nilam points out. They might not interact with the others that much but that didn’t mean they didn’t keep an eye on them or worry about them. 

Hearing that makes the other dragon freeze before sitting back down with a sigh. “You caught me, I haven’t been sleeping well. I’m lucky if I can get three hours worth of sleep.”

Nilam’s eyebrows furrow, an attempt to show their worry. “Are you still thinking about him?” 

“Of course I’m still thinking about him!” Deildrian exclaimed before burying his face into his hands “We chased him for days before we were finally able to strike him down and with no hesitation. Did you see how scared he looked?” 

They sighed “I did. You know we had no other choice, he was a threat.” 

“I know. I know he was, of all of us I know how much he was a threat. It’s just-”

“You two were close so it hurts you even more.” 

He nods, face still buried in his hands. He was trying so hard to be strong, he was supposed to be ruthless, and yet here he was trying not to collapse under the weight of his own crimes.

Nilam stands up as they are due to go to Arkala soon. “It had to be done, if it helps you feel any better if you hadn’t dealt that final strike one of us would’ve. At least he gets to be closer to mother now.” 

Deildrian takes a sharp breath as he pushes himself to sit up right. “You’re right. Thank you, Nilam.”

They nod “I’ll tell the others that you’ll be a few moments longer. Have a good day Deildrian.” 

“Have a good day Nilam.”

~~~~~

Kira tag list (for 2nd one): @whumpsday

#owe answers #emmettnet #ask prompts #whump #whump tag #my writing tag #prompted writing tag #Emil's is the only one without content warnings jskhgjsdkgh #dor tag #cade tag #harmonia tag #team golden tag #emil tag #kira tag #surprise!!!! Kira has siblings and doesn't understand non fae sibling dynamics! #nilam tag #deildrian tag #ask tag

[bluelight6]

So my roommate and I were talking about the Wattpad fics about being sold to 1D and since she’s a writer I asked if she could write a fic with the exact plot line but make it better here is the results:

One Direction Wattpad

There are people in my house. I can hear their muffled voices downstairs, talking to my mother. I always hoped this day would come. That someone would swoop in and take me away from this life of starvation and squalor. After today, she’ll be gone. The cops down there will find her crack and she’ll be out of my life for good.

With shaking hands, I put on my favourite hoodie and tie up my beat up converse. And then I wait. Wait for the battle that’s going to free me from the life I’ve been living. Today will be a new day.

“Y/N! Are you up? Come on down here!” My mother calls from the kitchen. She’s commanding, not like someone who’s getting busted for drug possession. If it’s not the cops, who are the men downstairs?

I walk slowly, trying my best to control my breathing. When I get to the kitchen, my heart stops. Sitting across from my mother at the table are all five members of One Direction.

“There she is! Boys, this is my daughter y/n. Y/n, say hi.” My mother’s eyes burn holes through me, practically begging me to do anything other than standing there staring.

“What’s going on? Why are they here?” This is impossible. How does my mom know One Direction? How are they here? I grab the chair in front of me to try and ground myself in the moment because this can’t be real.

“Did you… did you not tell her this was happening?” Harry whispers to my mother. The other boys are looking at me like I just grew a second head.

“Are you okay there? Do you need anything?” Niall asks. It is extremely absurd to have a member of One Direction offer you something in your own house.

“I need to know why you’re here.” My heart is beating in my ears and I can barely feel the fingers that are squeezing the chair back.

“Just sit down and stop being dramatic. I’ll explain everything.” My mother huffs.

I will myself to slide down into the chair.

“So you know money’s been tight lately. I’ve been barely able to afford rent, let alone groceries.”

“That’s because you smoke up all your paycheques.”

“That’s because you’re so expensive. I could afford to smoke if I didn’t have you. That’s where the boys come in. They need a personal assistant. Not a manager per se, just someone to make sure they’re taken care of. And they’re willing to pay. So you are going to be their personal assistant. I’ve just signed the contract.”

My vision goes black for a second, then red.

“You can’t do that! You can’t just sell me like I’m property! That’s illegal!” I shriek.

I can’t believe she would actually do this. My eyes dart between the boys across the table from me. They shift in their seats and avoid my eyes.

“It’s too late, love. The contract’s binding. We thought you knew,” Harry mumbles, staring at the rings on his hands folded in his lap.

“We promise, it won’t be that bad. We’ll have fun. It’ll be fun,” Louis says, finally looking me in the eyes.

“It doesn’t matter if it’s fun,” I say, feeling as if my cage doors are closing in on me once again. “It seems I don’t have a choice.”

More chapters coming soon

#1d #1direction #fanfic #getting sold for drugs

[foreverindreamlandd]

In the Embers ~ Epilogue

Pairing: Firefighter!Bucky x Fem!Plus Size!Adopted Rogers!Reader

WC: 4.6k

Summary: After returning home from a failed career as an artist in LA, you are reunited with the boy next door who has always owned a piece of your heart, and there's no running from each other this time.

Chapter Note: We made it folks. Thank you so much for sharing Bucky and Oak's journey with me.

While there are many people I would love to thank for their constant love and support for this series, I would like to dedicate this story to my dear @sweetascanbee, who looked through a rough draft that I basically hated and gave me the encouragement I needed to share it with the world. I love you Rennie. Thanks for believing in me and this fic every step of the way (also shut up I'm not crying you are).

Series Masterlist / Series Playlist

ONE YEAR LATER (ish)

You stared at the floor-length mirror, running your hands over the purple fabric, moving around to catch yourself in different angles to check for any weird creases or stains.

Nope, everything looked fine. Great.

Some people - yourself included - might even say you looked stunning.

Steve and Nat were currently doing a pre-ceremony shoot in one of the gardens on the venue’s property, and the rest of the bridal party had gone down to the bar to grab some food since you all had been up since the crack of dawn for hair and makeup and the squad was hungry. You were going to meet them there once you completed your Maid of Honor duties and ran to the bridal suite to grab a few extra hairpins in case any of those gorgeous red locks decided to rebel in the middle of the bride’s wedding.

Luckily, before you stepped away, you had managed to catch the moment your brother’s eyes landed on his gorgeous bride for the first time, and you could see the tears in his eyes from 50 feet away which almost made you ruin your makeup with your own tears.

Today was going to be a really, really good day.

“Hey Oak, I managed to grab you a sandwich before the guys fuckin’ demolished the platter of food for us….oh.”

As if you had stepped into a time machine, your eyes caught Bucky’s in the reflection of the mirror, and you were brought back to a time when you were a teenager wearing your high school prom dress in your bedroom.

To a time when you looked in the mirror and didn’t love what you saw, when you felt anxious about being seen by those gorgeous blue eyes, nervous that they didn’t like what they saw.

What an idiot you had been.

Bucky gave you the same look now as he did then, one of complete awe and admiration. One that said that he had never seen someone so beautiful ever before in his life.

“Wow,” Bucky sighed out as his face split in two with a wide smile. You winked at him from the mirror with your own smile that matched his and the man giggled in response. He started walking towards you and you turned around to hold your hands out to stop Bucky from getting too close to you.

His smile dropped and shifted into confusion and concern as soon as your hands met his chest, and he looked like a bit of a sad puppy.

“James Barnes, you know I love you,” you started, swiping a rogue hair that flopped over his forehead back into place, “But if you ruin the makeup that I had to wait four hours to get done, I will not stop Nat when she attempts to murder you.”

Your large, tough, beefy boyfriend pouted, his bottom lip puckering out and you felt your resolve start to slip. “You mean I’m supposed to look at the most gorgeous woman in the universe and I’m not allowed to touch her? This is unfair.”

Shaking your head with an uncontainable smile, your hand moved to cup his face and he leaned into your palm, soaking in as much contact with you as he was allowed.

“Most gorgeous woman in the universe, you say?”

He grinned, grabbing your wrist and shifting his face to kiss your palm. “I’m gonna tip the photographers and beg them to take extra photos of you for me to have. Seriously Oak, you look amazing.”

Your smile grew. “Thanks Bucky.” You moved to adjust the tie that matched the color of your dress, then smoothed your hands over the jacket of his dark gray suit. “You look pretty lovely yourself.”

He whined in protest as your hands rested on his chest. “Are you rubbing in the fact that I can’t touch you but you can grope me as much as you please? This is torture Oak. Can’t I just have one kiss?” he begged, raising both hands in the air, your sandwich in one of them. “I promise I’ll keep my hands to myself.”

You cocked your head to side side, feigning contemplation and Bucky whined again. Gosh, he was so dramatic. You loved it.

Finally, you nodded. “One kiss. Then you have to wait until after pictures, okay?”

He beamed, his boyish grin melting your heart into a puddle. He kept his hands in the air as he slowly moved forward until his mouth gently pressed against yours.

It wasn’t nearly enough for what the two of you wanted, but it spoke of a promise to be made up for later.

Besides, every kiss from Bucky was perfect.

You lightly pushed on his chest and he pulled back with a low groan. “What time are pictures going to be over?”

You smiled. “‘Bout 4:30 or so.”

Bucky pulled out his phone and set a timer, holding it up for you to see with a serious expression on his face.

“As soon as this goes off, you’re mine. Got it?” His voice had turned low, commanding, hungry.

You blinked a few times, unable to speak. Finally, once your brain was able to function again, you nodded.

Bucky smiled, then handed you your sandwich and you beamed.

“Have I mentioned that I love you?”

He pretended to contemplate that question. “A few times. But I promise I’ll never get tired of hearing it from those pretty lips.”

Your smile widened. “Well, I love you.”

“I’d love you too if you let me kiss you senseless right now-”

“Aaaand the moments gone,” you laughed, giving his chest a gentle shove and he chuckled. “We should get back anyway.”

He nodded, taking a few steps back toward the door. “I’ll see you at the altar. Hopefully we didn’t cause any bad luck since I saw you before the ceremony.”

You shook your head, eyes narrowing. “Buck, that’s just with the bride and groom. It’s not our wedding day.”

His brows furrowed and he held on to the door frame as he paused. “It’s not? We should probably do that sometime.”

You crossed your arm in front of you, trying to keep your face serious even though the corner of your mouth kept quirking up. “Pretty sure we need to get engaged first, baby,”

Bucky’s eyebrows shot up, feigning a look of contemplation. “Now that’s an idea…”

With one last smile and a wink, he was headed down the hallway, leaving you to shake your head and giggle as butterflies invaded your stomach.

The last year had been far from easy, and you were pretty sure you had never worked harder in your life.

But it had also been the best year ever.

Wilson’s opened back up at the beginning of the year after the fire. They were able to use the money from Brock’s settlement to fix the sign so that it no longer read as “Wilsn’s,” and they got to redo some of the upholstery in the seats.

Not all of them though, Sarah wanted to keep some of the cracks to hold onto the history of the place.

The night the bar reopened felt like a big family reunion, and all of Plainberry’s regulars stopped by to express their excitement that the place was up and running once more.

They were especially excited to try the new specialty cocktail that you had been experimenting with the past few weeks.

Carol became quickly obsessed with the Blood Orange Gin Sour you made her, and insisted that you make that a permanent item on the menu.

They named it the Oak Special.

You were still working there part-time to help cover rent and school expenses. It took a few months of soul-searching and crying to Bucky on the couch about what you were going to do with the rest of your life because you still wanted to paint but you didn’t want to be an artist because it took the fun out of it all so what the hell were you supposed to-

“What about teaching?” he suggested one night, rubbing your back as you buried your face in your hands. You looked up at him once he brought up this new option and he continued, “You said that Carol and Wanda thought you were awesome with the kids at the Fall Festival, and I’ve seen you with AJ and Cass. They love you - not that it’s hard - but you also love them. Remember how excited AJ was when he got an art set for Christmas, and how much fun you had painting with him at their holiday party? You love kids, Oak, and they love you.”

Tears welled in your eyes as you leaned forward, grabbing Bucky’s face with both hands and kissing him deeply.

“Have I mentioned that I love you?” you asked when you pulled away and he smiled.

“I think once or twice, but a few more times couldn’t hurt.”

Now, you were taking classes at a local community-college to become an art teacher. There were many stressful days and you sometimes went home wondering if you were making a huge mistake, but in those moments you would call Wanda and she would talk you off the ledge, offering her sound advice and telling you how amazing you would be in this role, and you would feel better.

Cuddles from Bucky usually worked, too, but you knew you needed as much support as possible to get through it all.

Both you and your mom moved out of the house in January. Mom, Steve, and Nat drove down together in Mom’s car while you and Bucky hitched up a U-Haul to his truck.

The drive was a mish-mash of terrible singing and reminiscing about all the shit you used to get into.

“Remember that one time we hid in Steve’s closet for thirty minutes waiting for him to get home and we made him scream at the top of his lungs?” you asked, wiping tears from your eyes from laughing so hard.

Bucky was driving, one hand on the wheel and the other on your thigh, laughing just as hard. He shook his head with a smile. “That was the best. And now I can tell you that I lied about the time he was coming home because I wanted to be locked in there longer.”

You gaped at him. “What?”

He nodded. “That was one of my favorite memories. Us having to be huddled so close together in the dark, my hands resting on your shoulder, you breathing on my chest. I almost died right then and there.”

It had always been a different memory for you. You remembered feeling self-conscious of the proximity, your body being so large and taking up so much space that Bucky was forced to touch you.

Once again, so many years later, those memories were being rewritten. All of those moments you spent thinking that a guy like Bucky could never want you the way you wanted him; now you were learning that you couldn’t have been more wrong.

His heart had been yours for as long as yours had been his.

As soon as your mom was officially moved in – and after many, many tears were shed by everyone – the four of you crammed yourselves in Bucky’s truck and drove back up north to move you into your new apartment.

It was a tiny two-bedroom just a few blocks from the bar. The water pressure in the shower was trash and sometimes if you had the toaster on in the kitchen and the tv on in the living room at the same time the power would go out.

But it was your own place, your own home, and it was perfect.

The first time you hosted Sunday dinner, you nearly wept at the sight of your favorite people (minus Mom, who still FaceTimed you as you all ate) sitting at the table you had purchased and built from IKEA.

Bucky had offered to help assemble it, but one glare of determination from you had him backing away, hands in the air.

You didn’t turn away his help when you bought a couch and needed to carry it up the three floors to your place. Once it was set in the living room, the two of you collapsed on it, your head resting on his shoulder as you both gasped for air.

“Have….I mentioned…that my sweaty ass loves you?”

Bucky snorted. “My sweaty ass loves your sweaty ass, too.”

When summer came, and you had finally gotten the hang of balancing school and work and living on your own – and the school year was over – you finally got to meet Becca.

Bucky tried to calm you down as you paced along his kitchen, telling you that she was going to love you.

Still, you were nervous. She was his family, someone who meant the world to him. What would happen if she didn’t like his girlfriend?

What if, as soon as you saw her, you would only see Mr. Barnes?

Bucky had wiped the tears from your cheek when you eventually admitted that fear to him, shame overwhelming you.

“I felt the same way, if I’m being honest,” he admitted. “I didn’t think I’d be able to ever look at her. But she’s not my dad. She’s Becca, and she’s awesome.”

She was awesome. As soon as she got out of her car and hugged Bucky with the biggest smile on her face, the love for her brother radiating off of her, you knew that you loved her.

And as soon as she pulled away from him to look eyes on you, then ran over to give you a tight embrace, you knew that she was your family, too.

“I can’t believe I’m finally meeting the infamous Oak,” she said, grinning from ear to ear.

You let out a surprised laugh. “Wait, you knew about me?”

Becca scoffed. “My brother never shuts up about you. He would always bring up stories of you growing up together, and I used to get jealous thinking that he already had a sister and didn’t need me. Eventually, I noticed how sad and broody he got when he talked about you, and forced him to spill his guts about how he was madly in love with the girl next door and fucked it all up because of daddy dearest.” Apparently Becca had the same relationship with their dad as Bucky did. “And then when you moved back he would call me basically every night telling me how amazing you were and I would tell him to buck up and tell you how he felt instead of being a whiny baby-”

“Okayyyyy,” a very red-faced Bucky moved behind the two of you to usher you into the house. “Why don’t we go inside and talk about literally anything else.”

Becca turned to you and winked, and you spent the rest of the day smiling like an idiot.

That was also the first time Becca met Steve and Nat, who immediately fell in love with her once they realized she liked to affectionately bust Bucky’s balls as much as the rest of you.

So now, whenever she was in the area, she had a permanent invitation to Sunday dinner.

She also had an invitation to their wedding, and as you waited to walk down the aisle, you scanned the rows of guests sitting in the outdoor venue until you found her, waving ecstatically as she did the same.

“Pst,” your head whipped around to the source of the sound, until you found your brother hiding behind one of the walls of the giant mansion.

Your brows furrowed in confusion, mouthing Are you okay? His response was to frantically wave for you to go over to him.

Seeing that he was the groom and technically this was also his day, you complied.

“What are you doing?” you whispered as soon as you got to him. “The ceremony is going to start in like, five minutes!”

“I know,” he peered around the building to the crowd of attendees. “I just…how do I look?”

You laughed, shaking your head and giving him a once over. “You look great, bro.”

He nodded, running his fingers over his tie. “Thanks. Nat looks so damn beautiful. I don’t want her standing next to some schmuck.”

You cocked your head to the side in fake contemplation. “Well, she did agree to marry a schmuck.” Steve rolled his eyes and gave your shoulder a gentle shove and you laughed again. “So, how you feeling?”

Suddenly, his eyes lit up and he gave you the brightest smile you had ever seen from your brother. “Like I get to marry my favorite person.”

Tears sprang to your eyes and you beamed, moving forward to wrap your arms around him.

He chuckled, returning the hug.

“I’m so happy for you, Stevie,” you whispered, voice breaking as you said his name.

“Wouldn’t have been able to get here if it weren’t for you and Ma.”

You pulled away, dabbing a tear from the corner of your eye. “You better shut your mouth with this sentimental shit before you ruin my makeup and your soon-to-be wife kills me.”

“Just wait till you see me on your wedding day. I’m gonna be a fucking wreck.”

You grinned. “As long as you can still see while getting me down the aisle, you can cry as much as you want.”

His eyes widened, suddenly filled with tears as if he were surprised by the notion of having that honor. Before he could let emotions flood out of him, he cleared his throat, clenched his jaw, and nodded. “You got it, sis.”

That was when you noticed the music change and you turned your head back to see the groomsmen lining up, heads darting around looking for their leader. You looked back at your brother and squeezed his shoulder. “That’s your cue, bud, and my cue to find your bride.”

With one last embrace, Steve straightened his tie, lifted his chin, and walked with unyielding confidence toward the aisle.

You found Nat with her bridal party – her younger sister Yelena and work bestie Clint – waiting around the corner where they were hidden from guests.

To anyone else, Nat looked like the calm, stoic, drop-dead gorgeous bride that had everything under control. But you could see in her eyes that she was a mess of excitement, nervously playing with the bouquet of roses in her hands.

“You okay, babe? No offense, but you kind of look like you’re going to throw up.” you asked as you approached.

She choked out a small laugh. “I’m okay. Just kind of wishing I told Steve I wanted to elope. Not a huge fan of being the center of attention.”

You rested a hand on the lace covering her shoulder. “Do you want me to have them wait a few minutes before we get started?”

She shook her head. “No. I know as soon as I see him I’ll be fine. He’s good at keeping me grounded like that.” A fond smile crept up her lips at the thought.

“Well, I’ll be right here if you need me. Steve will be watching your front, but I’ve got your back, always.”

She rested a hand on yours and gave it a gentle squeeze, nodding in appreciation.

Another music shift cued the bridal party to line up. First was Clint, the Yelena. You were on deck to be next, then Nat would walk down by herself.

But before you could take a step, you felt a hand grab your and you turned around to find a wide-eyed Nat.

“What is it? What’s wrong?” you asked, panicked. You had never seen the redhead so unhinged before.

She took a deep breath. “Nothing, I’m just…I know you have my back, but will you also be by my side for this?”

You smiled, grabbing her hand and squeezing it. “Anything for you, sis.”

Nat exhaled a huge sigh of relief, and you turned your head to the wedding coordinator to tell her to switch to the bride’s entry music.

There was a chance that you were going to lose your hand by the time you made it to the end of the aisle due to the impressive strength Nat was using to crush it with her own.

But it was like she said, as soon as she locked eyes with Steve, her whole demeanor shifted, and her grip loosened as a smile brighter than the sun formed on her face.

Steve, however, burst into tears at the sight of her, even though they had just seen each other.

Bucky placed a comforting hand on his shoulder and handed him a tissue, all while keeping his eyes on you with an expression you had never seen on his face.

It was so intense, so consuming, so filled with adoration that you almost looked away, but you were unable to stop staring at the beautiful man you got to call yours.

The rest of the ceremony was an emotional tear fest, and at one point even Nat had to turn around and ask you for a tissue. You and Bucky stole glances at each other every five seconds, and as his best friend blubbered through his vows, you saw a few tears stream down his own face.

Your mom sat on Steve’s side, a smile plastered on her face as she watched her son marry the love of his life.

On either side of her were two chairs with two of your paintings resting on them.

One of your dad.

And one of Winnie.

Before you knew it, Mr. and Mrs. Rogers were walking down the aisle hand in hand, and Bucky had his elbow extended for you to wrap your arm around so he could escort you down behind them.

“T-minus thirty minutes until I get to ruin the makeup.”

Warmth pooled in your stomach but you still managed to glare at him. “Okay, let’s not ruin the makeup. I still want to look good for the rest of the night.”

“As if you could look anything but amazing, Oak.”

Bucky stayed true to his word and tipped the photographer to get some extra shots of you once all of the official wedding photos were taken, and when they showed you the shot of you and him mid-laugh as he stood behind you with his arms wrapped around your middle, you were happy to admit that you were grateful for his insistence.

Then, a sound came from Bucky’s phone, and when he showed you the screen to show the timer going off, you simply shrugged before he crashed his lips to yours, swallowing the squeal you let out in excitement.

The photographers managed to get a shot of that as well.

A year from now, that photo would be mounted in the living room of yours and Bucky’s home, along with a similar photo of Bucky in a blue suit that matched his eyes and you in a white dress, both placed on either side of the painting that hung over the fireplace.

You grinned like an idiot as he pulled away, wiping lipstick from his mouth.

“Was it worth the wait, Buck?”

He chuckled, shaking his head, blue eyes boring into yours.

“Y/n, you are – and always will be – worth the wait.”

You cupped his cheek with your hand, thumb gently stroking his cheek.

“Have I mentioned that I love you?”

Bucky smiled, leaning forward to place a quick, gentle kiss on your lips.

“Yes, and it’s my favorite thing to hear in the whole damn world, so never stop telling me.”

“I love you, Bucky.”

His nose ran open and down the bridge of yours, eyes closing for a moment out of pure bliss.

And before his lips pressed against yours once more, he whispered,

“I love you too, Oak.”

NINE YEARS OLD (continued)

To say that things had not gone according to plan was putting it lightly.

And now, you were stuck at the top of Big Oaky, darkness hiding your path down.

“Y/n?”

The small, skinny form of Bucky Barnes called out to you from the bottom, his voice concerned and, well, confused.

Why would anyone expect you to be at the top of the giant oak tree so late at night? Who would be dumb enough to climb it for the first time by themselves and wait until it was impossible to get down?

“Hi B-Bucky,” you cried back.

“Are you okay? Should I get my mom?”

“No! I mean, I’m okay. Just don’t tell anyone I’m here.”

“How the heck did you get all the way up there?”

You groaned. “I climbed up here! Duh!”

Silence. “You climbed Big Oaky?” He sounded impressed.

“Y-yeah. I did a few hours ago, but then it got dark and I can’t get back down.” You bit back a sob as you admitted, “I’m scared.”

Bucky didn’t respond. Instead, you were met with the sounds of leaves rustling below. A few moments later, a dark figure stood a foot away from you.

“Holy crap,” he huffed out. “I can’t believe you made it all the way up there.”

You beamed through your tears. “Thanks, Bucky.”

Though you were no longer at the peak of the massive tree, you could still see through the top where millions of stars shone in the sky, and the bright moon smack dab in the middle. The two of you stared up at them for a few seconds.

“You know what this means, right?” Bucky asked in a whisper. You turned to look back at him, shaking your head and he continued. “You’re the Queen of Big Oaky. The first to climb to the top.”

You narrowed your eyes. “I thought you said you were the first to climb all the way up.”

He shrugged, and even in the darkness you caught the sheepish look on his face.

“I mean, I was close, but I think I still had a few feet to go. Just don’t tell anyone, okay? Especially Sam.”

You nodded, holding out your pinky finger. “I promise.”

He smiled, wrapping his pinky around yours.

“Alright, then. Let’s get down from here before Stevie kills me.”

A soft whimper escaped you. “I can’t, Bucky. I’m too scared to move.”

His hold on your pinky shifted until his hand was wrapped around yours. “Don’t worry, I got you Oak.”

Your fear left you for a split second and you found yourself giggling. “Oak?”

“Well,” he started as he stepped down to a lower branch, gently guiding you to where he previously stood, “I can’t call you Queen of Big Oaky all the time. That’s too many words. Not a great nickname.”

Before you knew it, the two of you were halfway down the tree. Bucky kept your hand in his almost the entire time, only pulling away if he needed a better hold on a branch to climb down. Once he was secure, he’d reach out and grab your hand immediately.

All fear had left you during your descent. Bucky’s focus and guidance kept you calm, made you feel safe.

And then, your feet met the ground.

You looked up at Bucky, his face now lit up by the lights outside your house, a big grin on his face. His hand was still holding yours.

“See? That wasn’t so bad.”

You jumped forward, wrapping your arms around him in a tight hug.

“Thanks, Bucky,” you mumbled.

He hugged you back, squeezing you tightly to him as his cheek rested against your forehead.

“Anytime, Oak. I’ll always keep you safe.”

The End.

End banner by the amazing @simmerandcry

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