#i lended it to them and. they put it. in their backpack

[allthingsfangirl101]

Little Stevie's In Love - Steve Harrington

Masterlist

Steve's POV

"Hey, Steve."

I looked over my shoulder to see Y/N, my neighbor, jogging toward me. Y/N was one of those people who others didn't realize how wonderful she was. Sure, she was quiet and a little shy. But if she really knows you, she's completely open.

I once asked her why she was shy around the other kids at school, but normal around me. She shrugged and said there was no reason to open up to a bunch of fake people. She said I wasn't fake, but the truth was, I am. Only she knows the real me.

"What's up, Y/N?" I asked as I shoved my hands into my back pockets. I smiled when she started to nervously ramble.

"I was wondering if you could do me a favor," she started. "Well, you wouldn't be doing the favor, per se. It would just be lending me something. I know this is precious to you and. . ."

"Y/N," I laughed as I gently cut her off. "What do you need?"

"I was wondering if I could borrow your car to take my parents to the airport tomorrow."

"Of course," I said, but she continued to ramble.

"I know that a car is a guy's, like, sacred place and your geeky neighbor taking her parents to the airport in it is not exactly what it's supposed to be for but. . ."

"Y/N," I cut her off as I gently grabbed her arm. She instantly bit her bottom lip–a habit she's always had. "First of all, breathe. Second, you are not a geek."

"I'm a theater weirdo," she interrupted.

"You've stared in every play our school's put on since freshman year," I laughed as I forced myself to let her go. "That doesn't make you a 'weirdo'. That makes you awesome."

We stared at each other for a few beats of silence before I cleared my throat. "And third, of course, you can borrow my car. You're about the only person I let drive it, other than me."

"Thank you so much," she sighed, relieved. "You just saved the day."

I blushed when she jumped up and kissed my cheek. I cleared my throat as she walked away.

"Glad I could help," I mumbled long after she left.

* * * * *

I was walking to my car when I heard Y/N's voice call out my name. I turned around to see her jogging toward me. The second she got to me, she jumped into my arms, wrapping her arms around my neck.

"Y/N," I said in a sing-songy. "Are you okay? Did the theater kids join the potheads during lunch today?"

"What?" She giggled as she let go of me. "No, I didn't smoke anything with the potheads at lunch. That crap ruins my vocal cords."

"Then what made you so cheery?" I teased.

"I just wanted to say thank you for letting me borrow your car," she said, her voice serious.

"It was just a car," I chuckled. "Not like I gave you a kidney or something."

"I know," she shrugged, her face burning red. "But still, it meant a lot. To me and my parents."

"Really?" I couldn't help but stutter.

"Yeah," she smiled. "My mom about swooned when she heard that you had lent me your car. My dad was impressed you trust me with it."

"It's just a car," I repeated. "I really didn't care about it that much."

"Still," Y/N giggled. "It meant a lot to me. Thanks again, Steve."

She grabbed my elbow and squeezed it before walking toward her locker. I couldn't take my eyes off her. I watched as she walked away. I watched as she opened her locker. I watched as she grabbed her calculus textbook.

"Who was that?" Tommy asked in his annoyingly over-confident, ridiculously insulting voice.

"My neighbor," I said without thinking about it.

"Oh! She's that theater girl," Carol scoffed. "The one who's in like everything this school does."

"She's okay I guess," Tommy shrugged. "It's not much fun to watch her, if you know what I mean."

"We always know what you mean," Carol sighed. I turned toward them, my anger boiling.

"What the hell is wrong with you two?" I scoffed.

I grabbed my backpack and walked away. I started to leave but stopped when I saw Y/N walking to her math class. I glanced over my shoulder to see Tommy and Carol had already moved on.

"Hey, Y/N!" I called out to her before I could talk myself out of it. She turned around and sent me a smile that made my heart jump into my throat.

"Hey," she said with a small laugh as I jogged over to her. "Is everything okay, Steve?"

"Yeah," I said, slightly caught off guard by her worry. "I just. . . I was wondering if you'd be willing to help me study for the Geometry test I have on Friday. I know you took Geometry in like sixth grade and it comes extremely easy to you, but I could really use your help."

"I'm sorry, Steve, but I can't tonight," she said, her smile dropping. I tried but failed to not look as disappointed as I felt. "I can help you tomorrow," she said quickly. "I know that's the day before your test but it's better late than never."

"Tomorrow works," I smiled, my mood instantly improving. "What do you have going on tonight?"

"Well," she sighed, "my partner for the Government test hasn't done a single thing on our project, so now I have to stay up late tonight and finish everything. Our presentation is tomorrow."

"That sucks," I scoffed. "Want me to kick his ass?"

"No," she laughed, "thanks though. I'll keep the offer in case we get anything lower than a B."

"Just say the word," I winked at her. I filled with pride when my wink made her blush.

"So tomorrow night?" She asked, refocusing the conversation.

"Perfect," I smiled. "Do you want to come to my place or. . ."

"Your place is fine," she shrugged when I didn't continue.

"Great. My place, tomorrow night."

"Seven?"

"Or earlier," I stuttered. "I could order a pizza or something?"

"You don't have to," she started to say.

"I don't mind," I said quickly. "You're giving up your Thursday night to help me study. The least I can do is buy you dinner."

I held my breath when I realized that sounded like a date. I didn't mind the idea of going on a date with her, but I didn't want to make her feel uncomfortable.

"How about I meet you at your place at six?" She suggested, her smile making my entire body feel weird.

"Perfect."

* * * * *

At the end of the day, I was driving Carol and Tommy home. The entire drive, I thought about the study session I had with Y/N tomorrow night. I have been weirdly nervous ever since she agreed to come over and help me.

"Can I ask you a question?" Carol asked, her voice instantly interrupting me mentally cleaning my room.

"What?" I deadpanned.

"What's the deal with you and Y/N?"

"She's my neighbor," I stuttered, my nerves jumping.

"You've said that," she scoffed. "Are you. . ."

"Don't tell me you have feelings for that girl," Tommy scoffed.

"No way!" Carol giggled.

"So what if I like her?" I asked harshly. "She's down to earth and funny and smart and sweet and beautiful. Absolutely beautiful. Not to mention the fact that she's real."

"You don't just like her," Carol said in a nasally voice. "Little Stevie's in love."

"Bullshit," Tommy immediately scoffed. "Steve Harrington wouldn't be with a weirdo like that stage freak."

I couldn't help but slam on my brakes a little too hard.

"Y/N's not a weirdo," I said harshly as I held the steering wheel so tight my knuckles turned white.

"You can't be serious," Tommy laughed. "You can't possibly have feelings for her. You're Steve "the Hair" Harrington. She's a nobody."

"Get out," I said through my teeth.

"But. . ."

I turned toward Tommy, unable to soften my glare.

"Out."

Tommy mumbled something under his breath as he got out of the car, but I didn't care. My anger was more focused on how they talked about Y/N. They didn't know her like I do. The only reason they knew her name was because of me.

Part of me wished I'd never become friends with Tommy and Carol. And instead, I wish I had gotten closer to Y/N.

I jumped, being pulled out of my thoughts when someone knocked on my window. I sighed angrily when I saw Carol watching me. I clenched my jaw as I rolled my windows down.

"What?"

"Easy, Frosty," she chuckled. "I just wanted to say. . . You know Y/N better than Tommy and I, so if you like her, you should do something about it."

"What do you mean?" I asked, my voice softening.

"Tell her, dumbass."

I thought about what Carol said for the rest of my drive home. When I pulled into the driveway, I instantly looked over at Y/N's house. I couldn't see her room from the front of her house. I had a perfect view of it from my room though. It took everything in me sometimes not to look at her window. I was also more aware of when I left my blinds open.

I headed inside and instantly went into my room. As I threw my backpack onto my bed, my heart jumped into my throat when I saw Y/N sitting at her desk by her window.

I smiled when I remembered that she was working on her Government project tonight. Instead of completing my homework or studying for my math test, I watched Y/N work on her project.

* * * * *

I was distracted all day on Thursday. I forced myself to refocus when Y/N showed up on my doorstep at the agreed-upon time. We ate pizza at the kitchen table as Y/N helped me through the formulas our test was on.

I was overly aware of how close Y/N and I were sitting all night long. When she left, I couldn't sleep. The only thing I could do was go back through the events of the night in my head as I kept my eyes on Y/N's closed window.

Friday morning, I walked into school feeling way more confident about my math test than normal. And it was all thanks to Y/N. She was at my house for three hours helping me study.

I was on my way to math when I noticed someone waiting outside the classroom.

"Y/N," I said as I walked over to her. "What are you doing here? Don't you have English right now?"

"I do," she said slowly, clearly surprised that I knew her schedule. "I just wanted to wish you good luck on your test. And I wanted to make sure you knew that you can do it. I believe in you, Steve."

"Thank you," I said with absolutely no sarcasm in my voice. "Really, Y/N. Thanks for giving up your Thursday night to help me study."

"Of course," she shrugged. "Besides, it's not like I had anything better to do."

I cut her off by grabbing her hand and pulling her into my chest. Before I could wimp out, I leaned down and delicately pressed my lips to hers. I felt her gasp against my lips, but she didn't pull away. Instead, she snaked her arms up my chest and wrapped them around me as she kissed me back.

I broke the kiss long before I had wanted to. I leaned back and we instantly stared into each other's eyes.

"Wow," she whispered. "Steve, I'm a little. . . Confused."

"I'm sorry," I sighed. "It's just. . . The thing is. . . Over the last few. . ."

"Steve?" She gently cut off my nervous stuttering.

"I have feelings for you, Y/N," I blurted out.

"You do?"

"Of course, I do."

I laughed when Y/N jumped up and pressed her lips back to mine. I didn't hesitate to kiss her back. She broke the kiss, her face bright pink.

"We should. . . I should get to class," she said, her voice soft. "Plus, you have your test to ace."

"I wouldn't be so confident in me," I chuckled. "We'll be lucky if I pass."

"Hey," she said firmly yet gently. "I know you can do this, Steve. You're a lot smarter than you think you are."

I felt like someone was blasting the heater as I stared into Y/N's eyes.

"What?" She asked when she saw the look on my face.

"That," I whispered. "That, right there, is why I'm crazy about you."

"I'm crazy about you too, Steve."

"How about this," I said, tightening my arms around her, "after I pass this test, I will take you out to dinner to celebrate."

"Dinner?" She asked, her face bright pink.

"Our first date," I smiled. Y/N giggled as she wrapped her arms around my neck.

"Six o'clock?"

"I'll pick you up," I said, lowering my voice. "And I won't be even a second late."

Y/N stood on her toes and pressed her lips to mine. When she broke the kiss, she slowly lowered back down.

"I'm gonna hold you to that," she whispered. "Now, get in there and go ace that test."

#joe keery #joe keery imagines #joe keery x reader #steve harrington #steve x reader #steve harrington imagines #steve harrington x reader #stranger things

[suashii]

꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ 𝐵𝒪𝒴𝐹𝑅𝐼𝐸𝒩𝒟'𝒮 𝐵𝐸𝒮𝒯 𝐹𝑅𝐼𝐸𝒩𝒟

info ⭑ geto suguru x f!reader x gojo satoru. 2k wc. nsfw (minors do not interact) ﾉ non-canon compliant ﾉ established relationship between reader and gojo ﾉ assumed cheating ﾉ moral dilemmas ﾉ sexual implications ﾉ ambiguous ending 

note ⭑ this is a LOT of build up lol but thank u if u see past that and give it a read anyway!

“oh my god, baby, you will not believe the day i—oh.” you stop mid-rant when you realize the body sitting on the couch is not your boyfriend. you were so ahead of yourself that you didn’t even think about making sure you were talking to the right person when you walked through the door. to make things worse, it’s geto. “um. hello.”

“hey there.” he offers you a lazy wave and a smile. actually, the curl of his lips resembles more of a smirk.

you linger in the doorway, taking an unusually long amount of time to slip out of your shoes, neatly adjust them, and trade them in for slippers. a tense silence fills the air as you do so. it’s almost suffocating and you can barely bring yourself to drag your eyes away from the floor. though, you think it’ll be even more awkward if you don’t speak, so, you clear your throat before asking, “is satoru here?”

“he’ll be back soon,” geto tells you, setting his phone on the arm of the couch to lend you his undivided attention. you wish he wouldn’t—being the object of his stare makes your skin prick with goosebumps. under his gaze, you feel like prey being watched by a predator. “he just stepped out to that dessert shop down the street.”

sounds plausible, but you hate when he does this—leaves you alone with his best friend. geto doesn’t make you uncomfortable, per se, but the air, the environment, feels thick and strange when it’s just the two of you. you’ve yet to put your finger on why that is.

you nod slowly, chewing the inside of your cheek as you tentatively make your way to the living room. you set your backpack on the floor and plop down between the couch and coffee table, as far away from geto as possible. you pull out your laptop and start opening your notes, never turning around to ask,  “you don’t mind if i study out here, do you? i’ll fall asleep if i try to in bed.”

cute, geto thinks. with your back to him, you can’t see the way he’s smiling at you. it’s not the same smirk from earlier but it isn’t innocent either. “go ahead. it’s your place after all.”

“right,” you awkwardly laugh, your pointer finger aimlessly dragging the cursor across your screen.

a strained silence blankets the room. it should be better this way; you can focus on studying and you don’t have to hold a conversation with geto, but something about the quiet is more uncomfortable than talking to him. knowing he’s here but not knowing what he’s thinking or doing puts you on edge. you’ve never been more distracted by someone’s mere presence.

you’re starting to wonder if you should have just holed up in your room when the couch creaks, alerting you of geto’s movement. you let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding at his departure. your relief is short-lived, however, because—unbeknownst to you—geto doesn’t leave, he only situates himself behind you.

you aren’t aware of his newfound proximity until you feel his hands come to rest on your shoulders. the contact makes you jump, your shoulders reaching for your ears. you’re tempted to turn around and face him but there’s a feeling in the pit of your stomach telling you that it might be a bad idea. instead, you find your voice to ask, “w-what’re you doing?”

you swear you hear a soft chuckle from behind you as geto’s fingers begin to knead your shoulder blades. the sensation is familiar and if you forgot whose hands were doing the work, you’d let yourself melt into the touch. though, the voice that fills the air is a reminder that the man sitting behind you isn’t your boyfriend. “satoru usually does this when you’re stressed and you seem… tense.”

he isn’t wrong, but the uneasiness you’re experiencing is attributed to one thing, one person, only—geto suguru. his hands feel nice and that much feels wrong. he should stop, right?

“well, you don’t have to—” an unexpected moan cuts your sentence short. it takes a moment for you to accept that the noise that rung through the air was yours. you really can’t look at him now. you clear your throat before speaking up again, more quietly this time. “you don’t have to do that.”

“okay.” and with that word, he stops. the weight, the warmth, of his hands is gone. you weren’t supposed to miss the feeling, so why do you find yourself longing for it? 

you still have yet to peer up at geto but the man doesn’t need to see your eyes to know what’s going through your head. your moan was a loud enough message for him. he can’t believe it, but it sounds like gojo’s sneaking suspicion was right. though, geto’s willing to test the waters to be sure. he scoots over and pats the cushion he had just been occupying. “at least get up on the couch. satoru will kill me if he walks in and sees you sitting on the floor.”

alarm bells blare in your head at the invitation but you know he’s right about gojo. your boyfriend should be back any minute now so you suppose there’s no harm in sitting beside geto until then. you uncross your legs and stand up to get comfortable on the couch.

there’s a pair of eyes watching your every move and you can’t help the way your own flit over to meet them. sure enough, onyx irises are honed in on you. it’s difficult to hold his gaze so you offer him a quick smile before turning away. you’re reaching out to grab your laptop when geto’s voice, or rather, his declaration, stops you in your tracks.

“you know, you’re really cute when you try to hide how much you like me.”

after your initial pause, you look at him again. “i don’t do that.”

for a split second, you swear you see his eyebrows raise. as quickly as you see it, it’s gone, replaced by yet another grin. “what?”

“nothing” he raises his hands in mock surrender, “just that you didn’t deny the whole liking me part.”

your heart skips a beat at the realization that you never rejected his claim and it speeds up when you recognize that it might be the reason you’re always so nervous, fidgety, in his presence.

no, that can’t be it. you’re in love with gojo, you can’t have feelings for his best friend. what kind of sorry excuse of a girlfriend would that make you? there’s got to be something else that can explain—

“don’t worry, it’s okay.” his reassurance couldn’t have come at a worse time—when you’re trying to convince yourself what he said isn’t true. and he seems keen on making this even harder with his next admission. “because i like you, too.”

for the first time all day, your eyes meet his and you’re able to keep them there. your lips part in surprise and you’re sure the emotion is reflected in your stare. he can’t really mean that. he’s definitely messing with you… right?

geto seems to have stunned you to silence. he thinks that’s cute, too, how little it takes to fluster you. and it looks good on you, so much so that he’s even more eager to go through with his plan. he inches towards you before letting his hand rest on your knee. you don’t jump like you had earlier. “do you wanna hear the things i’ve thought about you?”

the scene playing out before you feels like a fever dream with how bizarre things are unfolding. and it must be because how else would you explain the subtle nod of your head at geto’s offer?

your agreement comes as a pleasant surprise to the man and he’s quick to continue before you take it back. “i think about how timid you are when it’s just the two of us and wonder if you’d be the same way with my hands exploring your skin.”

as if to emphasize his words, he drags his fingers from your knee to the middle of your thigh where the hem of your skirt sits. the movement is agonizingly slow and leaves a trail of goosebumps in its wake, but geto never takes his eyes off of yours.

“and that moan of yours,” your cheeks and the tips of your ears heat up at the reminder, “i’ve thought of that, too—if you’d make such pretty sounds when i’m touching you like this.”

geto squeezes your thigh, firm but not painful. the gesture elicits another whimper from you, though, it’s muffled this time around.

“i guess you do, huh?” he rubs a hand over your leg, his lips curling up into a smirk. his touch doesn’t linger for long as the calloused hand on your thigh rises and makes its way up to your face. his hand hovers over your cheeks before cradling the side of your face, thumb running along your lower lip.

“but most of all,” he starts, leaning in closer, “i’ve wondered what these lips would taste like on my tongue.”

there’s a jolt in your tummy that sends arousal between your legs. you rub your legs together for some friction—some relief—but it isn’t nearly enough. you need something more—thick fingers or a hard cock. the direction your mind goes causes your lips to part.

geto’s tongue runs along his lips upon seeing yours separate. he licks his lips like you’re a meal he’s looking forward to—like he’s two seconds away from devouring you. still, he courteously asks, “are you gonna let me find out?”

“i can’t,” you whisper. “satoru—”

he leans in even closer, only a hair’s breadth away from your mouth. his breath mingles with yours with his next whispered words. “i won’t tell if you don’t.”

each thud of your heart against your ribs is audible in your ears, like the rhythmic bang of a drum. it must be loud enough for geto to hear, too. it’s drowning out the voice of reason urging you to do anything but lean forward and press your lips against his. 

you don’t listen to its pleas.

the sensation of geto’s pillowy lips only lasts for a moment as yours brush against his. the brief contact sends a surge of electricity beneath your skin that you feel throughout your entire body. geto dips his head down for a deeper kiss when the click of the door opening hits your ears.

you freeze like a deer in headlights at the noise, not daring to turn around. geto doesn’t look nearly as alarmed as you, in fact, the expression he wears is one that makes it seem as though he’s done absolutely nothing wrong. there’s no visible sign of guilt behind his eyes. 

he greets the man at the door easily. “hey, man.”

the rustling of plastic sounds in the air before gojo replies. “did she do it?”

your heart jumps at the mention of you. do what?

“just barely,” geto tells him, a cheeky smile pulling at his lips. “you seriously have the worst timing. she probably would have let me stick my tongue down her throat if you had taken another minute.”

the horrifying fact makes you fist the fabric of your skirt. the burning of your skin is back but it isn’t arousal this time around—it’s shame and embarrassment. how are you supposed to look at your boyfriend now that you’ve kissed his best friend?

heavy footsteps warn you of gojo’s approach. you’re desperately trying to come up with an explanation when he kneels down in front of you. his eyes are like magnets, forcing your gaze to meet his. dark glasses hold his light hair back like a headband, preventing the snowy strands from hiding his clear blue irises. you can’t read him.

“did you like it?”

“what?” your voice is weak. you can barely hear it.

“it felt nice, right?” he asks with a smile. it’s genuine, too, like he really wants to hear that you enjoyed taking part in your naughty deed. “you want more, don’t you?”

his questions aren’t accusatory the way you expected them to be. he doesn’t sound upset or angry the way he should. you spare a glance over to geto. there’s a look in his eyes, one that you’ve seen gojo wear plenty of times—one that means he’s hungry.

it’s only then that you realize what’s going on. this wasn’t some elaborate stunt to find out whether or not you’d be faithful to your boyfriend, it was a strategy to see how you feel about geto and it seems as though their findings have been promising if their reactions are any evidence.

maybe you can give in to your disgraceful attraction to your boyfriend’s best friend.

you turn to face gojo once more, pulling your lip between your teeth and nodding in response to his questions.

gojo breathes out a short laugh before tilting his head and letting his eyes shift over to geto. “see, suguru, i told you she’d be into it.”

hey there, it's manz! now that you've read the whole fic, i can tell you where i was going with the ending :3 so, in my mind, this was a ton of build up to a threesome. not sure if it came across that way, but yeah! although, if you'd like to think of it more as a "gojo letting geto have sex with you" kind of thing, that's cool too!

thank you for giving this a read! if you enjoyed, please consider reblogging and/or leaving a comment! much love from me to you ❤︎

#₊˚ପ⊹ signed: jujutsu kaisen #gojo x reader #geto x reader #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #gojo x you #geto x you #jjk x you #geto drabble #gojo drabbles #jjk drabbles #jujutsu kaisen drabbles #jjk smut #jujutsu kaisen smut

[thegreatestsandwich]

"Words cannot describe the pure rage that your presence instills in me," Wednesday said with a dangerous air of calm surrounding their voice, their gaze trained right onto you.

The reader gave her a confused look. "Is this a confession?"

I think this is something she would totally say to the reader

I’m cursing your name (Wednesday Addams x reader)

Masterlist

Pairing: Wednesday Addams x reader

Word count: 568 words

Summary: You were just so clueless that the others began wondering how in the hell you managed to stay alive for so long

Warning: FLUFF and the reader being a completly sweetheart that must be protected and loved by all of us because they're just so clueless that if they left you unsupervised you might fall into a pit and die

A/N: I love writting for her

Coments, Reblogs and Asks are happily received! I love to read your lovely coments :)

The first thing the other students think of you is that how in the hell you managed to stay alive and completely unharmed all your life. You were a magnet for disasters, it didn’t matter how big or small they were, you were a magnet.

You set fired to your literature project. Don’t ask how.

You accidently burned the tools miss Thornhill had lend you for your class. Don’t ask how.

You managed to lose all of your shoes in a Friday night. Don’t ask how.

Jesus, you managed to get lost on the Poe Cup Race…And you weren’t even competing! You just got lost.

You would think your special hability was fire…well, it was not, the curious part was that it was far beyond that. And the students began taking pity against your unlucky life. Some of them even going as far as to baby you into safety. You didn’t care to be honest, you were so oblivious to everything that most of the things that happened you just took it with a confuse smile.

Well, there was one student that was getting frustrated and annoyed with you. Wednesday Addams had the unlucky luck to be partnered with you for a project and she couldn’t stand the fact that you were a version of Enid…just with the unlucky level maximized to 200%

She walked into the cafeteria, completely annoyed and angry at how the progress she had made with you was now gone, puffed into existence and you only wanted to see it! She was going to kill you and no one could prevented.

She found you eating a plate of ramen, completely unaware of her deadly stare or the knife on her hand. “You.” She whispered and everybody stopped, watching her with fear but not you, you were still eating.

Wednesday pushed your food out of your way, you frowned in sadness. “Hey, I was eating that.” You pouted.

"You are the worst human being on this planet, I have no idea how you manage to survive, you ar pathetic, worthless and idiotic.” She paused, putting her knife harshly on the table, everyone winced but you, you stared at her with a smile. “Words cannot describe the pure rage that your presence instills in me," Wednesday said with a dangerous air of calm surrounding their voice, their gaze trained right onto you.

“Uh…Wednesday, you might want to tone it down.” Enid tried to calm her but Wednesday threw a murderous look at her. “Yeah…continue, ignore I said anything.”

The reader gave her a confused look at the knife and then on Wednesday. "Is this a confession?" You asked, your head tilting to the side.

Wednesday stared at you, were you that dumb?

“Because it kinda sounded like one.” You touched the knife, wincing when you cut your finger with the blade. “Wow, sharpy, but yeah, sure.” You stood up, putting your hands on her shoulders. Wednesday was confused, what was happening? She was threatening you, wasn’t she? “There’s this movie I want to see on Friday! We should totally go! Don’t worry I’ll get the passes! This is going to be so awesome!”

You grabbed your backpack and left the cafeteria with a huge smile.

Wednesday stayed there, glued on the spot, her face frowning in confusion.

“Wednesday, I think,” Enid began, watching the door where you disappeared. “I think you just got yourself a date?”

#wednesday netflix #wednesday adams fic #wednesday adams imagine #wednesday addams x you #wednesday addams x reader #wednesday addams x female reader #wednesday x reader #wednesday x y/n #wednesday x you #wednesday imagine #wednesday addmas

[inklore]

laur <3 i just wanted to say i love your blog so much! i was wondering: do you have any eddie headcanons that you think about a lot or have wanted to share with us? i always love reading other people’s headcanons. i hope you have a great weekend :)

you’re too sweet, lovey!!! i have a dozen different thoughts and headcanons when it comes to this boy so these are literally all over the place lmao.

tw: eighteen+ content, references to sex, criminal activity, drugs, parental issues.

he writes on the back of his hands when he needs to remember something: an idea for a campaign, a deal he needs to make later, anything but homework assignments

doesn’t carry a backpack, either finishes his work at school or doesn’t do it at all, never takes work home with him

is incredibly smart, can do math all in his head (he’s a drug dealer ok he’s hella good at it), just doesn’t have that academic incline to be smart in school/struggles in that aspect because he doesn’t care about what he’s being taught

has several fantasy novels scattered around his room, in drawers, in stacks on the floor, with writing in the margins: ‘campaign? henderson would love this!’

his dad is in jail for criminal activity (some of which he taught eddie), his mother left him when he was still little and he hasn’t heard from her since—but who doesn’t care, fuck it, having shitty parents builds character right???

his uncle is the only father figure he really counts in his life (but he still has a touch of the mommy and daddy issues, doesn’t want to turn out like either of them)

would definitely become a mechanic after graduating, or some easy job he’d excel in. but would still try to make it big with his band, would never give up that dream

joseph said that when eddie finds out someone loves him he doesn’t know how to take it/kind of thinks he doesn’t deserve it etc, which makes sense with his family issues, but also means (in my head) that when he finds someone who he shares those equally intense ‘love’ feelings for he’s literally the biggest simp

i’m talking constant mixtapes, letting you touch his guitar (no one touches her!!), play with his hair, lends you his favorite book only because he wants to see your face light up from enjoying it (but is hella nervous you might dislike it), lends you his band shirts because he loves watching you walk around in them (and only them), let’s you play your pop music in the van (will fake grumble about it but loves to watch you dance and sing along, and oh wow are his fingers drumming to the beat?? is he singing along?? no no of course not…)

he’d even let you design one of his tattoos. like he’s literally so smitten he never stops smiling or trying to please and make you happy, hes literally a ‘once i’ve fallen in love that it’s you’re the one forever’ type

i think it’s hard for him to express his feelings so he does it with humor/chaotic behavior/cynical outlooks, since he wasn’t raised by overly passionate and loving parents (literally hesitates a little during hugs because he’s not used to them but loves them, secretly of course)

he’s tried the hard stuff (drugs) once and that was enough for him, isn’t really into anything other than weed and cigarettes, still holds onto it though just in case he can make a sale from it

will put on eyeliner for gigs and gigs only!!

and as cute as he looks with his hair up he would never be caught dead with it up in a pony, unless you batted those cute eyes of course, then maybe, just maybe. only around the house! but he doesn’t like it!!

he’s not the best cook but he’s learned this trick to make microwaveable dinners taste better than they should; says he was high one night and the magic just happened, that it’s his secret recipe he uses (literally just seasoning, or a couple handfuls of shredded cheese)

doesn’t like hard liquor, strictly beer!

only goes to parties to sell to people, other than that he would rather take an arrow to the foot than go to them

when there’s a song he wants to learn he will hold himself up in his room for days, you or wayne literally have to drag him out or force feed him because he has a one track mind, neeeds to get it done, neeeds to learn it (our boy has intense hyper-fixations)

fiddles with his rings when he’s thinking or nervous + sticks his tongue when he’s in deep concentration + messes with strands of his hair when he’s trying to flirt

isn’t super clingy in the sense that he needs to be always touching you, but constantly catches your eye/is caught staring at you, or checking in with you, or playing with your fingers (loves when you play with his rings!!!), or tickling you, or tackling you down on his bed

can’t just give you one kiss, has to press a dozen to your cheek and neck always

isn’t a tit or ass man, loves it all, all of you, every part

loves to please, i’m talking will spend hours…doing things….in the name of pleasure for you

his fav position is any he can see your face, your expressions, can lock eyes with you, see that you’re enjoying it; missionary, or you on top

loves assurance, needs it, craves it in any and all aspects of the word, as much as he hates to admit it

has the biggest heart, hates to show it more often than not but once you’re his: friend, partner, what have you, he’s got you for life, cares about you immensely

doesn’t have a selfish bone in his body

but does have a jealous one and sometimes anger slips into there because he hates the things he gets jealous over

princess, beautiful, sweetheart, and babe (very rarely used), honey when he’s being a little shit, are the only pet names he uses or will ever use!!!

bi bi bi biiiiiiii

has big switch energy, but is the softest!dom you’ll ever meet, and i use the word dom very loosely here

never knows where to put his hands during any sexual act, always wants to touch everywhere and anywhere you’ll let him

talks a lot during, like he’s definitely a fan of lazy high sex that’s filled with a few giggles and weird things being spoken but it never takes the two of you out of it

loves kissing!!!!!

a few kinks i think he’d have: hair pulling, biting, dry humping, marking (with his mouth or a tattoo gun), light choking, voyeurism, a touch of corruption

would literally cream in his pants to see you wearing one of his rings as a necklace

if you bought him something he’d literally treasure it like it was an irreplaceable artifact

he’s literally so patient and encouraging when it comes to teaching anyone anything

loves cheesy ass jokes even if he’ll give you a deadpan look while you’re delivering it

is and will forever be a kid at heart

literally would be the adult playing hide n seek with the trailer park kids

loves proving people wrong (respectfully)

not a morning person, has been late to class so many times because of it. will wrap himself around you in the morning to stop you from getting up

smokes after sex, that good ol after sex cigarette

before he moved in with wayne, wayne was a truck driver which is why all the mugs and hats decorate the living room wall. and a way they bonded when eddie first came to live with him was: he would pick a new mug each day to ask wayne about and he would share his traveling adventures with him

like i said his dad taught him some criminal activity: hotwiring, picking locks, siphoning gas, how to pickpocket, insurance fraud

would tell the best scary stories on the camping trip

can barely grow chest hair

#eddie munson #eddie munson headcanons #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson smut #eddie munson fanfiction #eddie munson x you #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson fic #eddie munson blurb

[xoxoamyas]

For You.

rating : fluff/comfort, singular alcohol mention, petnames used on reader [ darling, love, and baby ]

wilbur x fem!reader [ use of you/yours, no use of y/n ]

☆ wilbur comforts you after a hard day. he plays you some in progress songs he'd been working on. <3

note : this was meant to take place sometime before ycgma came out! though, you can interpret it as whenever. either way, hope you enjoy !

request [ ☆ ]

masterlist [ ☆ ]

⋆˙⟡

You had little tells for everything. Wilbur knew them by heart.

So the second he heard the door close a little harsher than normal, he was up in an instant. He had been writing up some new lyrics for some songs he wanted to put together.

“Darling?” Wilbur lightly calls out as he moves through the short hall of the shared flat. Seeing you set down your purse on the couch in the living room, he lightly sighs. “Beautiful,” He starts, catching your attention more now. Muttering a soft apology when he sees your face screw up.

Oh, you definitely didn't have a good day if you weren't melting at the complimenting.

“Want to talk about what happened?” His voice is soft and low as he speaks, well aware you didn't take kindly to a raised voice in moments like this. A small frown tugs at his lips when he sees you shake your head no, so he just silently nods.

“That's fine, love. How about we run a bath and then go lay down?” Wilbur tilts his head a bit as his hands move to hold your upper arms. A small smile appears on his face when you nod.

He pauses when he feels one of your hands move to the hem of his sweater. Leaning down for you when you moved to be on your forefoot, pressing a kiss to Wilbur's cheek in a silent show of affection.

It takes a little bit after as you calm down, Wilbur with you nearly the entire time. He had gotten you bubbles for a bath at some point and helped you wash your hair. You weren't very talkative like you usually would have been, him having picked up on you needing the time to adjust and relax.

After a while, you finally deemed it time to get out of the bath. The water had gone cold and lost its comforting warmth. You managed to coax Wilbur into lending you one of his sweaters and even a pair of his boxers. He could never say no to the puppy eyes you tended to give him.

“You ready to talk about it?” Wilbur calmly asks after you're laid in his bed cuddled up to one of his favourite and most used pillows. He wasn't jealous over an inanimate object whatsoever.

You give a light groan, pressing your face hard into the pillow for a good long moment. Another tell that you weren't ready to talk just yet.

It's quiet for a good moment, and Wilbur bites his tongue. He's not sure what to say for what felt like an eternity. Eventually, he ended up eyeing the bedroom for a good moment before his gaze landed on his guitar.

You don't move immediately when you hear the first strums of the guitar, just hearing what sounded like a gentle tune. Each chord eased into the next, which soothed an ache in your mind. The Bm, to D, A, G, and right back into Bm.

“The cute bomber jacket you've had since sixth form,” When you hear his voice, you finally look up. Curiosity started gnawing at you as you watched Wilbur from where he sat in his streaming chair.

“Adorned with the patches of places you've been. Got nothing on my khaki coat I got from the roadside.” You can't help but let your face scrunch up as he sang. He had paused his singing. You caught the nervous glance he sent you, like he was uncertain about what he was saying and singing. His hands faltered with the glance before he looked back down at the guitar and continued strumming.

“My boots from the airport, the backpack’s my friends.” You sit up more as the words are softly sung out. A small warm feeling fills your chest as you make the sudden realization that this is a song he hadn't shared with you just yet.

You recognize the moment Wilbur seems stuck with the words, seeing him just continue to strum the chords along the guitar wordlessly.

“I haven't finished it just yet.” Wilbur admits after a moment of strumming, letting the last chord he had played ring for a second.

“I think it's really nice so far, Wil.” You give a small smile as your eyes flicker over him. “Have you been working on any others with it?” You ask out of genuine curiosity, to which Wilbur gives a slight grin.

“A couple others, yeah. Hold on.” Wilbur moves to stand from his streaming chair, moving to plop down in his spot next to you on your bed, guitar in his lap.

He had to take a second to get situated and comfortable before his hands found their spits on the guitar again. The strumming starts again, this time starting with an Am chord, to F, back to Am, and then to F again. You watch as Wilbur testingly strummed the chords, holding back a small giggle when you saw him make a face before adjusting the chords to fit together better.

Am, F, Am, F. Repeating it but instead landing on a C instead of an F interchangeably.

You watch with interest as he moves his hands in a more relaxed manner than before when he finds the rhythm he's looking for. It was almost mesmerizing, the way he played solely for you in this moment.

“Maybe one day, we'll live in La Jolla,” He starts, glancing at you as if silently seeking approval. You tilt your head in response, a notion for him to continue on.

“Drinking cocktails out over the water,” He's quiet for a second after that, trying to find out the next words he wants to say. A small soft hum could be heard from him as he tried to find the tune to keep rolling with.

“Our own personal sunset. A diploma for each day on our own.” The words are even as he says them, though the small hesitation of his hand shows he's not entirely confident with them. Either way, it made you move a tiny bit closer as you shifted. Now sitting cross-legged beside him with a hand along his knee closest to you for wordless reaffirmation.

“Shhhit, I don't know.” He eventually huffs out a humourless laugh, a frown on his face as he stops strumming the guitar.

“Hey, you did good.” You move one of your hands to cup his cheek, gently having him look towards you. “Thank you for playing what you did for me.” Your words make some of the unease melt away from his expression.

One of his hands comes up to hold along the side of your neck, and he leans in. The press of his lips against yours is careful and precise, a kiss meant to be loving and open.

Wilbur lets the kiss go when you want to, giving a small breath of air as your forehead pressed against his. “You're an amazing girlfriend, y'know that?” He asks quietly, as if scared to disrupt the peaceful moment happening between them.

“And you're an amazing boyfriend.” You murmured out in response, keeping still where you were for a moment longer before carefully moving. Taking Wilburs guitar and setting it to the side so that it rested against his bedside table. “Snuggles before bed?” You asked as you looked at him, a small pout forming as you tilted your head at him.

A small sound of surprise escapes you as he suddenly catches you off-guard when he wraps his arms around your waist. Him having dragged you closer and down onto the bed with him.

“You're so stupid,” You jokingly complained as you moved with more ease after a moment. Your head against his chest, arms wrapped around his torso and your leg thrown over his waist.

“But you just called me an amazing boyfriend.” Wilbur playfully pouts as he looks down at you. He lets out a more genuine laugh after a moment, kissing the top of your head then resting his chin along that same spot.

“I retract my statement, then.” You grumble out against him, not truly meaning your words.

“Just get some sleep, baby, we got a day ahead of us tomorrow.” Wilbur can't help but smile, loving that the two of you could at least sleep in the manner you two usually do.

“Goodnight, Wil.” You hum out, moving to hold him closer in search of the comfort he was providing you.

“Goodnight, love.”

#amyas writes #x reader #fluff #wilbur soot #wilbur fluff #wilbur x reader #wilbur soot x reader #wilbur soot x you #wilbur x you

[twst-drabbles]

Leona, Rook and Vil 1

Summary: Rook’s cooing over your childhood photos attracted the attention of Leona and Vil. And then they find the photos that contain Crowley.

(Added a guestbook/comment section function to my neocities. If you want to leave a comment, go on ahead! Also sorry for the slowdown, had to put my old cat down the other day because of cancer in her leg. 19 years man. She had a good run.)

By this point, Rook isn’t even saying any words. He’s just cooing and awing over the pictures of your younger years, when baby fat was aplenty and coordination was just not your thing.

You tried to turn the page on your photo album just so you can finally put it away but Rook pinched the page and refused to let you leaf through it.

“Just a few more minutes, please,” Rook leaned in closer to your photos, adoring smile nearly splitting his face, “let me admire your tiny self just a little longer.”

“Fine, fine,” you sighed out, not really getting the appeal but oh well.

“You might want to keep a close eye on him,” Leona appeared in a small gale of sand, leaning on the couch arm closest to you, “he’ll try and make a copy of your photos. Might even show them off to everyone he meets while he’s at it.”

Leona didn’t flinch but his body did pulse with sand for a moment when Rook shot his gaze towards him. He simply thinned his eyes to a glare, tiny golden grains floating in the air behind Rook, ready and waiting to coat his shirt.

“Now now, I wouldn’t do something so intrusive,” Rook shook his head, as though the notion was laughable, “though, if you’re willing to lend such an offer, well, I wouldn’t mind in the least!”

“Nope,” you shot him down.

“Oh that hurts, that you don’t trust me so,” Rook hung his head, but you can tell he wasn’t hurt in the least.

“Rook, is that you harassing our dear Caretaker?” Vil practically descended on the back of your sofa, crossing one leg over the other as he sat between you both, smile almost poisonous in its amusement. “That won’t do. Look at this, you even got this lazy mound of sand to move all the way here.”

“Finally away from your perch, huh?” of course, Leona takes the jab with stride, “And here I thought you got your pigeon feet stuck on the branches. Seems I won’t have to cut them off after all.”

“Stop,” you said, turning the page just to get there focus on the album and not on each other, “I’m not in the mood for banter.”

“Apologies,” Vil dipped his head, the feathers on his neck calming down just a bit.

Leona grumbled out a ‘sorry’ of his own, but it was enough.

“Oh?” Rook tilted his head, tapping a finger against a familiar masked face, “Is that Crowley carrying you on his shoulders?”

You leaned in, then nodded. “Yeah. I made my first kite in that one. He got it stuck in a tree and had him help me get it down.”

“Seems more that you forced him,” Leona leaned a little into your shoulder.

“And look at him, unable to handle your weight,” Vil tapped a claw on the veins straining in Crowley’s neck and the sweat that made him shine, “was he always this out of shape?”

“Pretty sure he’s been out of shape for most of his life,” you sighed out, “however long that is.”

“Oh look at this photo,” Rook gestured to the corner of the page, “he’s carrying you in a backpack this time.”

“Yeah, Crowley actually got me new shoes but it was raining that day,” you pointed out the mud just coating his legs, “he didn’t want them getting dirty.”

“Did he really forget that he can just use magic to keep you elevated?” Vil raised an eyebrow.

“Yup.” You replied.

Leona gave a sigh of amusement “What did you expect out of that birdbrain? Sure, he has his feats but his idiocy is the only thing that rivals him.”

“He’s been with you for quite a long time, hasn’t he?” Rook had a far-off look to his face, as though wading through old memories.

“Yeah he has,” honestly he’s been there since you were in diapers but you don’t have photos of those. Took a few years of convincing for Crowley to finally say yes to being photographed.

“And will probably be there for many more years, knowing him,” Vil turned the page this time, “I’m shocked he hasn’t gotten you into an accident.”

“I’m more surprised you even survived to this day,” Leona tapped at your arm out of boredom, “He can barely take care of himself, let alone a waddling kid with no magic to them.”

“Right?” And you very much agree with him, “And he used to babysit me a lot. Felt more like I was watching over him than him to me.”

A bit of an exaggeration to be fair, but still. Before the photos, before Crowley was this… goofy force of nature, there was a time when Crowley was just like those crows in those old fairytales you were read: silent, lurking and ever watching events unfold.

A creepy man that didn’t interact with anyone. And yet, your family was the fools that decided the house next to his was the perfect one. Well, they weren’t wrong but the atmosphere wasn’t exactly one would call kid friendly.

Well, either way, that’s all in the past and your little kid self somehow wormed their way into his heart. You could chalk it up to loneliness making you stubborn in being friends with him, but either way, that was then and this is now.

So, in a way, yeah you did look after him. What a funny man he is. Maybe you should get Crowley something later. A new hat maybe?

#twst #twisted wonderland #twst-drabbles #ask #drabble #savanaclaw #leona #leona kingscholar #pomefiore #rook #rook hunt #vil #vil schoenheit #sanctuary au #reader insert

[changbinsboiledegg]

Hey can I request reader on a trip with bf! Hyunjin and the boys and he gets motion sick and they all help take care of him? I need some comfort fluff in my life rn 😙

Hell yeah, I love comfort fluff and fluff in general. We all need fluff. Thank you for your request! 🫶

GN! reader X Hyunjin, FT. SKZ.

Warnings: Motion sickness + the symptoms. Hyunjin throws up so if you have emetophobia, I'm so sorry.

Note: Ahhhhh I'm sorry if this is bad! I tried to include every member for an even amount but mostly tried to keep the reader involved more yk? That doesn't make sense. I hope this is the comfort fluff you hoped for 🥹🫶 As always, if no one told you today, ILY.

♥︎♥︎♥︎♥︎♥︎♥︎♥︎♥︎♥︎♥︎♥︎♥︎♥︎♥︎♥︎♥︎

The trip was something you were looking forward to. You, your boyfriend, and his friends. It was finally the first day of the week-long trip and there you were, lying on your stomach in your bed and looking through old polaroid photos you found while attempting to pack.

Hyunjin was helping you pack, up until he got a call from Chan— probably asking if you were ready.

“Uh,” Hyunjin glanced over at you, shuffling through the photos. “Yeah, almost ready. When are we supposed to leave again?”

You were still looking at the photos. Mostly of you and Hyunjin together. All were about a year or so old.

“Oh, five minutes.” Hyunjin repeated louder and looking at you. You finally glanced up at him, raising an eyebrow as he hung up.

“I’ve been packed since last night.”

Hyunjin’s face dropped. “So you didn’t need help packing?”

“I just wanted to see you before we left.” You admitted. Hyunjin sighed deeply, rubbing his eyes.

“You know we’d see each other the entire week.” Hyunjin sat on your bed beside you and leaned down to kiss the top of your head.

“I know.” You pushed yourself up and off the bed, walking towards your closet. “Is it cold outside?”

“It will be.” Hyunjin answered. You looked through your closet for your hoodie, then in various places around your room as Hyunjin watched in slight confusion.

“How is it that when I don’t need a sweater, they are there, but when I do, they packed up and left?” You murmured, grabbing a long-sleeved shirt. Hyunjin slid off his own sweater and held it out to you.

“No, then you’ll be cold.” You refused, but Hyunjin didn’t back down, smiling at you sweetly without a word.

♥︎

“Two minutes late.” Chan smiled at you and Hyunjin when you arrived to the meetup location. Hyunjin gently squeezed your hand before briefly letting go to take out his passport.

“My fault. I couldn’t find any of my sweaters, jackets, or hoodies.” You sheepishly apologized. Chan glanced down at the one you wore— Hyunjin’s. Then he looked at Hyunjin, who had no form of protection against the cold.

“It’s fine. The plane hasn’t left yet, but I’d prefer not to be in the back of the line when boarding.” Chan reached into his backpack and pulled out his sweater to lend to Hyunjin.

“Thank you.” Hyunjin accepted it and put it on over his head. Changbin yawned, joining the three of you. ”It’s time to go.” Changbin stated, putting an arm around Chan’s shoulders to steer him in the direction of the gate. Hyunjin took your hand and followed them.

Midway through the flight, Hyunjin felt waves of nausea and dizziness. He pulled down the visor to cover the window from his field of vision, but couldn’t avoid the uncovered windows beside the people in front of him.

Hyunjin swallowed harshly to avoid needing to make an emergency trip to the bathroom. He tilted his head back and closed his eyes, unable to shake the feeling.

In the seat beside him, you were absentmindedly scrolling through movies to watch in order to pass time, unaware of your boyfriend’s discomfort.

Hyunjin opened his eyes, immediately met with an even harsher wave of nausea.

“I will be… right back.” Hyunjin forced himself to open his mouth and shimmied through the isle and quickly towards the bathroom on the plane.

He crashed to his knees, expelling the contents of his stomach for a few very long seconds. He panted, still feeling the nausea and dizziness.

There was a knock on the door, followed by the sound of your voice. “Jinnie?”

Hyunjin reached up to unlock the door, still on his knees. You entered, your worried expression only intensified.

“Oh no, are you okay?” You lowered yourself to your knees beside him. Hyunjin let out a groan as another wave of nausea coursed through his body.

“Motion sick.” Hyunjin squeezed his eyes shut. You frowned, “let me sit by the window. We have about thirty more minutes until we land. Do you think you can—” ”Is he okay?” Felix asked from behind you. You pressed a hand gently against Hyunjin’s forehead.

“He got motion sick.” You answered. Felix gave an understanding nod. Hyunjin lifted himself to his feet and you helped him make his way back to your seats, this time you sat by the window and gave Hyunjin an eye mask to help him relax until the plane landed.

♥︎

By the time the plane landed and everyone got off, everyone knew how Hyunjin had fallen victim to motion sickness.

Seungmin had googled how to get rid of motion sickness as soon as they met up in the airport after retrieving their bags.

“Stay hydrated…” Seungmin read off, “take motion sickness medicine… Eat ginger or ginger candy?”

“I think we should lower our voices around Hyunjin. Just in case that triggers his senses.” Changbin spoke in an almost quiet voice.

You and Hyunjin exchanged a look. While you felt grateful that they were trying to help, them being quiet wouldn’t help Hyunjin much in the noisy airport they were in.

“Ah, alright. Let’s wait a bit before getting on the bus. Let’s let Hyunjin rest.” Chan motioned for everyone to find a seat in the airport. Hyunjin held onto your hand as you helped him sit.

“I’m okay, guys. I just need a while to get some air.” Hyunjin reassured them, but Jeongin, Felix, and Minho had already gone off towards the shops to look for anything that could help.

Seungmin continued to scroll through his phone before getting up and running after Jeongin, Felix and Minho saying, “chewing gum could help!”

Hyunjin groaned, not wanting anything in his mouth. You rubbed your thumb on the back of his hand, hating that he was feeling nauseous on a trip that was meant to be fun.

Then again, you still had all week.

“Peppermint could help too.” You spoke softly, taking Changbin’s theory into consideration.

“I’m not just saying that because you threw up.” You added. Jisung overheard this and laughed a little, even though it was clear he was just as concerned as everyone else.

“Peppermint could help you in that situation too. No one likes vomit breath.” Jisung humored, hoping Hyunjin would laugh or smile.

“Haha.” Hyunjin forced a smile. Jisung pretended to cover his nose, “would you rather be ‘vomit breath’ or ‘peppermint breath’?”

“Ugh, neither— fine, let’s get peppermint.” Hyunjin laughed— genuinely laughed, for a moment before attempting to stand.

“Ah, ah, ah. Sit back down.” Minho stopped him. Your hand was still holding Hyunjin’s and even if Minho hadn’t shown up when he did, you’d have stopped him.

Minho gave Hyunjin a water bottle after opening it for him. “Drink. Or as Seungmin said, stay hydrated.”

Hyunjin took slow sips of the water, feeling the nausea subside with each sip, but not completely.

Chan looked at his phone, humming to himself. “We can go to the amusement park tomorrow. Yeah?”

Luckily, everyone in the immediate area agreed. You couldn’t wait to get Hyunjin to the hotel and make him rest— another thing Seungmin had mentioned would help the motion sickness go away.

When Jeongin and Felix came back, they had bags of different things ranging from snacks, drinks, candy— even a bag of peppermint.

You took the bag of peppermints and opened it, handing one to Hyunjin. Hyunjin took it with slight hesitation and popped it into his mouth.

“I ordered motion sickness medicine for pickup down the street while we waited in line to pay.” Jeongin pulled up the order on his phone and showed Hyunjin.

“They are tablets that you’re supposed to let dissolve in your mouth.” Jeongin explained. Felix sat on the floor of the airport and separated everything before giving one of the bags to you.

“These are Hyunjin safe,” Felix nodded towards the bag you held. He then nodded towards the other bag, “and those aren’t Hyunjin safe.”

You couldn’t help but smile at his assessment of the bags. You turned to Hyunjin and opened the bag but Hyunjin shook his head and pointed at the peppermint in his mouth.

“Are you guys okay with letting Hyunjin choose where we eat tonight?” Chan asked, putting his phone away.

Again, they agreed, not wanting to make Hyunjin feel worse if they chose a restaurant that was too much.

Hyunjin took a deep breath, sucking on the peppermint in his mouth.

“Thank you all, so much. But please, don’t let me ruin the trip for everyone.”

Everyone looked at him, slightly confused. You smiled at him and carefully put your arm around him.

“You didn’t ruin anything. It happens.”

“Yeah.” Seungmin said, pulling up google again. “Your senses just got overwhelmed. You didn’t know you’d get motion sickness.”

Hyunjin frowned a little, still feeling an ounce of guilt. Chan huddled around you and Hyunjin.

“Are you okay to get on the bus? Promise we’re going to the hotel for a while to rest and plan out the day.” Chan smiled. Hyunjin nodded, standing up.

“Oh! The medicine is available to pick up!” Jeongin spoke up. Changbin quickly shushed him.

You chuckled, helping Hyunjin stand as the dizziness still lingered. Minho and Jisung went to stand beside Jeongin.

“We’re going to pick up the medicine. We’ll catch the next bus to the hotel.” Minho announced, putting his hands on the shoulders of Jeongin and Jisung as he steered them towards the exit.

You gently squeezed Hyunjin’s hand, earning a small smile from him and a squeeze back.

“Are you okay to ride the bus?” You asked, wondering if maybe you two should tag along with Minho, Jisung, and Jeongin so that he could take the medicine before getting in any vehicle.

Hyunjin closed his eyes and tilted his head back, the nausea hitting him again. You sucked your teeth and looked at Chan.

“Hyunjin and I will join you guys on the next bus with Minho, Jisung, and Jeongin.”

No one argued, not even Hyunjin, who walked with you in an attempt to catch up to the three on their way to the store down the street.

Once the five of you arrived to the hotel, you and Hyunjin immediately went to your reserved room where you made Hyunjin lay down, even if he was going to do just that in the first place.

You sat on the other side of the bed as Hyunjin started to feel better with the combination of rest and the motion sickness tablet Jeongin bought for him.

After a few minutes, Hyunjin laughed. You looked over at him with a confused but curious look, laying down on your side now.

“What?” You asked. Hyunjin turned his head to look at you.

“I get motion sick once and you guys act like I’m on my death bed.” Hyunjin laughed. You laughed too, but not as much as he did.

“We weren’t trying to act that way, we just didn’t want you to suffer on our getaway.” You used your fingers to brush back the strands of hair on his face.

Hyunjin’s laughter died down into a smile.

“I love you.” He sighed, contentedly. You smiled, feeling your heart flutter at his words.

“I love you too. Do you feel better?”

“Yeah.” Hyunjin slowly turned on his side, facing you fully. You were about to continue the conversation but Hyunjin spoke up again.

“Don’t tell the others though. I still want to pick dinner tonight.”

♥︎♥︎♥︎♥︎♥︎♥︎♥︎♥︎♥︎♥︎♥︎♥︎♥︎♥︎♥︎♥︎

Note 2: If you saw any typos or grammar errors, just report me LMAO. I'm fed up with myself too, lovelies.

#stray kids x reader #skz imagines #skz x reader #stray kids scenarios #stray kids imagines #stray kids fluff #stray kids hyunjin x reader #skz scenarios #skz fluff #hyunjin x reader #hyunjin #Stray kids hyunjin imagines #stray kids hyunjin #skz hyunjin #skz headcanons #skz reactions #stray kids reactions

[jeankluv]

Birdie | Satoru Gojo - Chapter 02

Words: 4.6k

Summary: You didn’t like him, at all. But due to your bad luck you would have to be forced to work with him and different circumstances end up leading you to the fact that perhaps the word dislike is not the one you use to describe him.

ac: _3aem (twt)

Tags: modern au, college au, fem!reader, academic rivals, he fell first, fluff, old money Gojo Satoru, abusive parents, slight slow burn, Satoru is a softy, secondary couple (Geto Suguru x oc), a bit of angst, no use of y/n, eventual smut, Gojo plays basketball

Materialist | previous chapter | next chapter

Links to the story on: wattpad | ao3

You stood before the classroom, ready for your first class of the day. Kyoko had lend you one of her dresses, considering you hadn't had the chance to stop by the house to start packing and moving in with her and her parents. When you discussed the arrangement with Kyoko's parents, they expressed no objections; instead, they were delighted at the prospect of you living with them. At times, you found yourself pondering what good fortune had led you to this life—to be surrounded by Kyoko and her family, who welcomed you repeatedly with open arms and without any expectations in return.

Four days had passed since the incident had occurred, you had tried to go to class, but Kyoko’s didn’t let you, seeing how pale you were. Gojo had texted you during those days, at first you ignored him but you ended up sending him a message telling him that you were fine but needed rest, after that he didn't send you any messages again.

Shaking your head, you entered the classroom. A few students were already seated, engaging in light conversation. Casting your gaze around the room, you typically preferred the seat by the window, especially during spring when you enjoyed the warmth of the sun on your face and admired the increasingly verdant hues of the park outside.

“You are here!” You felt two hands grabbing you from your shoulders and moving you to the front.

You looked up and saw the bright smile of Satoru Gojo. “What are you doing?”

“I told you, I was going to save you a seat, wasn't I? I take you to him. Wait! Are you still sick? If you want, I'll take you there.” You felt your face burn red, what was he into.

“I’m not sick.” You separated from him a little and could notice the murderous look of a group of students who were a little further back. You swallowed and looked up at Gojo. “You don't need to grab me, I'm not going to fall. And you didn't have to save a place for me…”

He nodded and smiled. “But still did! Look the best spot!” He pointed out.

You looked at the place where Gojo pointed and opened your eyes, it was the place where you used to sit, the one with the best views and where there was the best breeze.

“Good, right?” He smiled arrogantly.

You snorted and then smiled. “It's not that big of a deal, Gojo.”

“Well I made you smile.” He leaned towards you. “That's a win for me.”

You breathed slowly, he was getting on your nerves. He passed next to you and sat down on the sit that was right next to your favorite spot. You knew it was pointless to tell him to go to another place, his stubborn head was not going to move from there, so you let it be and sat next to him. As always, you took one of your notebooks and your pencil case out of your backpack and waited, looking out the window, for the teacher to walk through the door and start teaching his class.

You could feel Gojo moving in the seat next to you. You turned your head a little to find him rummaging through your pencil case and with your notebook in his hands. At what point had he picked it up?

“What are you doing?” You said putting your hand on top of the notebook, you had said it so loudly that some people turned to look at you. Shit. “What are you doing?” You said once again but whispering.

“Oh…” He looked down at the notebook and put his hand on top of your. You felt an electric shock go through your body and moved the hand away from his touch. “I was drawing a bird, birdie.” He said showing you the drawing, you would say you were surprised by how good the drawing was but it was Satoru Gojo after all, everything he did seemed to be always perfect.

“It’s really… good.” You held your notebook back.

“I know.” He smiled cockily.

You rolled your eyes and started to focus on the class, the teacher was already starting to explain some things and you needed to be focused to take all the notes. About 45 minutes had passed when out of the corner of your eye you looked at Gojo, he was looking at you. What was he doing looking at you? You noticed how your pulse accelerated, the bastard was getting on your nerves. Was he not going to take a single note in the entire class? You tried to ignore his gaze from the rest of the class but you felt his blue eyes boring into you the entire time.

Class ended and the teacher left, and now you had a free hour. You saw how your companions began to leave, all except one. You turned to look at him and he was always smiling at you, didn't he get tired?

“Why are you still here?” You spoke.

“Isn’t it obvious? I’m waiting for you!”

“I’m going to the library to study…”

“Great, I will go with you too.” He stood up and started walking.

You looked at his back and didn’t move from your seat. Why was he so determined to be with you? Your trust issues told you that you would distrust him but there was another part that told you no. You shook your head, trying to get those thoughts away from you. Gojo would eventually get tired of you and leave, he just needed time.

“Here.” You noticed how something cold touched your face, causing you to squint at the sensation. “You need to hydrate yourself so you don't faint again.”

You looked at him confused. “Thank you…”

You looked down at the bottle that now was on your hands. You were trying to understand all Gojo’s actions but each one of them was more confusing than the other one.

“By the way.” He spoke again, walking beside you. “You changed your style?”

You looked down and saw the floral dress you were wearing. “It’s Kyoko’s dress. I haven’t gone to my apartment yet and I didn’t have any clothes in Kyoko’s house.” Gojo nodded and gave you one last look before smiling for himself.

Weird.

You walked with Gojo to the library, people stared at him wherever he went and he smiled at them with his best smile. Making those who saw him fall at his feet. Upon arriving at the library, Gojo sat next to you and watched as you took out the notes you had taken today.

“You are not going to study?” You looked at him.

He shook his head. “I don’t need it.” You rolled his eyes at his comment.

“Then why did you come?”

“To make you company.” He shrugged.

“I don’t need anyone to accompany me. I’m sure your friends are waiting for you somewhere, you can leave.” You sound too harsh.

He once again shook his head. “Don’t worry. I prefer to be here with you.”

There it was again, that warm feeling in my chest. You turned your head to stop looking at him and took your headphones out of your backpack, it didn't matter that Gojo was there, you were going to study and do what you came to do. The minutes began to pass, while you were studying, Gojo had rested his head on the table and closed his eyes.

“Fuck.” You blurted out in frustration, you had been stuck with the same problem for 15 minutes. It didn't matter where you took this subject, it was simply impossible for you.

Gojo stretched his arms and yawned next to you, then rested his face on his hand. “What's wrong birdie?”

That nickname again, you were going to ignore it, his stubborn head was not going to stop. “I hate this subject so much…” You cried. “Doesn’t matter how much I try I don’t understand it and the teacher is just…” Awful but you didn’t want to say it out loud. “And we will have a partial in four weeks…���

Gojo looked over your notes, nodding and a smile on his face. “I will help you.”

He would? But with that smile on his face you knew there was something hidden behind it. “What are you up to, Gojo?”

“I will. I’m good with this subject.” Which one is not? You wanted to ask. “But.” There it was. “With one condition.” He put one finger in the air.

“Which is…?” You responded tiredly.

“If you pass the exam, and you surpass me, I will stop being so annoying.” You nodded. “But if I get a higher score than you… You will go out on a date with me.”

*･゜ﾟ･*:.｡..｡.:*･'･*:.｡. .｡.:*･゜ﾟ･*

Your shoes stomped on the floor, making them sound loudly. You had been looking for Kyoko around the school for 20 minutes without success, you had called her 4 times and her cell phone must have been full of text messages begging her to meet him immediately.

You to Kyoko ☀️

Kyoko!!!

Kyoko where are you?

I need you 😭

This is an emergency!!

┻━┻︵╰(‵□′)╯︵┻━┻

You went to the cafeteria and walked up and down until you saw her sitting with Suguru, Gojo's friend. Gojo, date…ah shit. You shook your head and walked over to them. The two stopped talking and looked at you, Kyoko said your name with the sweetest smile in the world and you felt your problems almost disappear.

“Hi, how are-?”

“We need to talk. Like right now.” You looked at Gojo’s friend. “Alone… sorry.”

He smiled and shook his head. “It’s alright.” He stood up. “I will call you.”

“Okay.” Kyoko smiled.

“Goodbye girls.”

“Thank you.” You said. “And sorry for interrupting you!” You told him and he nodded.

You sat where Suguru was before you and took a deep breath.

“Uh…” Kyoko smiled. “What’s up with that?”

“You know I usually go to the library to study at this time right?” She nodded. “Well, Gojo came for me.” She took a sip from his cup of coffee and motioned for you to continue. “Well… she was with Mr. Tanaka's subject, you know I've had her stuck since the first day. Well, Gojo, to no one's surprise, is good at that subject and has offered to help me.”

“That’s a good thing, you might not like him but this could be the only chance for you to pass that subject.”

“Yeah… he put a condition to it.” Kyoko raised an eyebrow. “If I manage to pass the exam but I don’t get a higher score than him, I will have to go out with him on a date.” You cried.

Kyoko laughed and you looked at her wanting to kill her. “Sorry, sorry. But that bad of an idea it would be? Going out with him just one day, as a date.” She rest her head on her hand.

“I… I can’t stand him.”

“I know. Listen, I shouldn’t be telling you this but, Suguru told me Satoru really wants for both of you to be close and has been trying for a long time. But you always avoid him, so he is taking this small opportunity he has to get closer with you.” She held your hands. “Give it a chance and besides maybe he could take you out to a fancy restaurant.”

“Ugh please no.”

“Okay okay.” She raised her hands up. “Just relax, you will get a higher rank than him.”

“I don’t know Kyoko… By the way.” You looked at her. “What’s up with you and his friend, Suguru.”

She looked down and started playing with her hands. “Well, we started talking and we are meeting each other. For now.”

You nodded and smiled. “I’m happy for you, Kyoko.”

“Maybe in some months we can go out on a double date!” She joked.

“Eh… Relax Kyoko! I don’t even see myself dating him, not even close.”

“But you once told me, you thought he was attractive.” Your cheeks turned red.

Yeah it was true, you found Gojo quite attractive but who wouldn’t. With that silver hair, blue eyes and a height that left everyone with the jaw on the floor. Fuck, what were you thinking?

“Yeah, but you would be blind not to see he is attractive.” You said out loud.

“Who is attractive?” Oh shit.

“Sorry, I told him you two were having a private talk but he wouldn’t listen.” Suguru appeared behind Gojo.

You must be red like a tomato right now. “Who is attractive birdie?” He smiled, closing the gap that was between both of you.

“Eh…” You looked around, trying to think of an answer. “Haibara’s friend!”

“Haibara…” He repeated. “As Yu Haibara?” You nodded.

“Yeah! His friend, the tall and blonde one.” You smiled and looked at Kyoko. “Right?”

“Oh! Nanami?” Suguru asked.

Hell you didn’t know what his name was, you only saw him whenever he was waiting outside the store for Haibara. Of course they knew who he was, both of them, Gojo and Suguru, knew who Haibara was and they probably also knew that guy. You wanted to hit your head against a wall, you were too dumb.

“So Nanami eh?” Gojo touched his chin.

“Yeah, he is pretty handsome and interesting, not gonna lie.” You were lying, you only saw him from a far distance and 10 seconds ago you didn’t even know his name.

“But I’m more handsome.” Gojo replied.

“Yes.” You said without thinking. Oh no. “Wait!”

“Hehe.” He had the biggest smirk on his face. “Birdie, did you just say what I think you did?”

You wanted to run. “I didn’t.” You shook your head.

“I think you did. Right Suguru? You heard it too.” He grabbed his friend.

“I didn’t Gojo, shut up or I…”

“You…” Gojo leaned towards you.

“Oh look at the time!” You pointed at the non existent watch. “My next class is about to start.” You turned around to face Kyoko. “I love you. I will see you after work at home. Bye!”

What fly had bitten you? Why were you so nervous? Having Gojo so close had accelerated everything inside you and you had felt extremely overwhelmed. If you stayed there a little longer you would end up going crazy. God you were screwed, weren't you?

Satoru Gojo pov

Gojo watched your figure speed away from the cafeteria, while you touched your red cheeks. Making you blush was something he loved, the way you first opened your eyes wide and then started looking everywhere, and finally you started to turn red, he found it extremely adorable.

“Hey Suguru…” Satoru looked at his friend. “She didn’t have a watch with her.” And he laughed.

“You should stop scaring her like that.” Suguru talked beside him.

Satoru laughed and looked at his friend. “It’s funny, she looks adorable with her cheeks all red.”

“Don’t cry if she kicks your ass one day.” Kyoko spoke. “If I’m not mistaken she was black belt in taekwondo.”

“She knows taekwondo?” Satoru excitedly asked.

“Yeah…”

“She doesn’t stop surprising me.”

“But for real Satoru, if you do something wrong or your intentions with her are bad, the one kicking your ass won’t be her, it would be me. And I’m much worse.” Kyoko faced Satoru, with a gaze he swore never saw in the girl before.

“Sure but I don’t have any bad intentions with her. Don’t worry.” Kyoko nodded. “Well then I will get going! I will leave you two love birds alone.” Satoru laughed when he saw the red faces of both of them.

“Satoru…” Suguru looked at him.

“Bye bye!” And he left them alone.

He walked out of the cafeteria and stuck his tongue out at his best friend who was positioned in front of the window. Satoru laughed as he watched Suguru give him the finger.

He put on his headphones and started walking towards his car. He hoped that no one would stop him on the way to him, but unfortunately for him that was not the case, several people stopped him trying to give them his number or asking for his, but Satoru simply rejected them all.

If there was one thing Satoru hated, it was being only seen as a pretty face or for the size of his wallet. He obviously knew that he was attractive, he looked in the mirror every day and knew it but sometimes he wished that others didn't.

The song that was playing in his headphones stopped playing and was interrupted by an incoming call. Satoru pulled the phone out of his pocket heavily and rolled his eyes at the name that appeared on the screen.

Mother

He sighed and clicked the green symbol to take the call. "Mother."

“Satoru, son.” His mother's cold voice sounded on the other end of the phone. “I remind you that today we have family lunch with your grandparents.”

“I know…” He knew it perfectly, his mother had been repeating it for more than a week. “I will be there as soon as possible.”

“Okay, see you in a bit then.” And she hung up.

Not a goodbye, not a I love you. Satoru wonders if the word I love you had ever come from his mother, at least it had never happened with him.

His parents were not like the rest, they were cold, calculating, arrogant and manipulative. They always sought to achieve more and more, regardless of who they harmed in the process. When Satoru had the chance to become independent he did, staying in that crazy house would only make him like them, and that was something he refused to be.

He looked up from the phone and looked towards one of the faculty classrooms. A smile appeared on his face as he saw you leaning against the glass, eyes half closed as if you were about to fall asleep.

Satoru to Birdie 🐥

It’s only been 10 minutes of class and you are already sleepy birdie?

He sent the message and waited a bit for you to see it. He saw you move, looking for what could be the cell phone and then move your head in all directions, probably looking for him. Satoru bit his lip trying to contain his laughter and wrote again.

Satoru to Birdie 🐥

Outside

And then you turned your head to meet Satoru's blue gaze. He greeted you warmly and you lowered your head again.

Birdie 🐥

Stop stalking me, weirdo

Leave!

He laughed.

Satoru to Birdie 🐥

Just wanted to wave you goodbye, since you left so quickly

Birdie 🐥

Okay you did it

Now leave, people will think weird things

Satoru smiled and waved at you goodbye when he saw you looking back at him. You also gave him a small goodbye, which made him smile even harder, if that was possible.

Satoru walked to his car and sat in it. He was supposed to go to his parents' house, but he hated the mere idea of ​​setting foot in that place for a moment. But he knew he had no choice. He scratched his temple and started the car, heading to his parents' house.

It didn't take him long to enter through the door of his parents' luxurious villa and to be instantly greeted by one of the house's employees. Upon entering he could see his mother sitting reading and his father on the phone, shouting, probably about something about business.

“Mother.” Satoru smiled at his mother.

“Oh son, you are already here?” She said without looking at him.

“Yeah, I just arrived.”

“That’s good, your grandparents are about to arrive.” That’s when she looked at him. “You should change.” Satoru looked at himself. “It’s not appropriate. You have clothes in your old room.” She pointed out and went back to her reading.

“Okay mother.” Satoru turned around and started walking towards his old room.

Satoru passed by his father, who did not even notice his presence in that place. He walked through the house until he reached his old room. He remained the same, not a hint of color, not a photo, not a toy, nothing. He threw himself on the bed, face down, and cursed to himself. He needed that afternoon to pass as soon as possible. He turned around on his back, looking at the ceiling.

Everyone had always told him how lucky he was to be a Gojo, his parents, his family. Nothing could be further from the truth. It was exhausting and demanding. Satoru often wanted to be able to exchange himself with any other person, to be able to escape from those demands and goals that he had to meet, just by belonging to the Gojo clan.

He stretched his arms and got out of bed to look at the closet. They were all suits. Did he really have to wear a suit to eat? He rolled her eyes and grabbed one of them.

When he was already putting on his jacket he could hear his parents greeting his grandparents. Satoru took a deep breath and psyched himself up for what awaited him.

“Satoru! Darling!” His grandma approached him. “How are you? You look really nice.”

“Thank you grandma, I’m good. How are you?”

“Good, good.” She nodded.

“Son.” He heard the cold voice of his mother. “Let’s get going.”

She pointed at the dining room, they all followed and sat down. No one said a single word for a king, the only sound in the room was the sound of cutlery.

“So Satoru.” His grandfather spoke. “You are already on age for marriage. Have you been looking for a wife? I heard there are a few women from good clans that are still single.”

Satoru took a breath, the question had taken a while to come out but there it was. “Not yet grandfather, I’m concentrating on my studies.”

He took a sip from the glass and looked at Satoru. “I still don't understand why you haven't followed the family footsteps and studied finance.”

“It was not my thing…”

“Doesn’t matter.” He put the glass on the table. “In 5 weeks there is the charity gala for businessmen here in Tokyo. The whole family must attend and Satoru it would be nice if you showed up there with a partner.”

Satoru clenched his fists, he already knew it.

“Your grandfather is right, son. We can make an appointment for you ourselves. The daughter of the Iori family is still single, on the other hand there is also the eldest daughter of the family…”

“I think I need some fresh air. I will go for a walk.”

“Son! What are you doing?!” He ignored the screams from his mother and got up from the table.

He heard his mother angrily speaking and his father agreeing with her. He just ignored all of it and got into his car. He drove for 10 minutes until he realized where he had parked the car. He smiled to himself as he realized how his subconscious had played with him.

Your pov

The afternoon in the store had been very boring, hardly any customers had come there. So now you were looking at your notebook, full of equations. Would you be able to get them before the exam? Probably not. And it wasn't because you hadn't tried, because you had tried, without stopping, but the teacher's explanations were simply impossible for you.

Was it really that bad of an idea to accept Gojo’s proposal?

You shook your head. Kyoko was right, it wasn’t a bad idea and besides nothing would happen for going out one day with him, right?

And on the other hand, you're pretty sure that Gojo would leave you alone sooner or later, you two were complete opposites. Two different worlds. He was like Saturn, so bright and majestic, everyone stared and observed him. On the other hand, you were like Uranus, distant, darker, less bright, colder, smaller.

“Why I’m thinking that?” You laughed for yourself.

“You seemed pretty concentrated, to be honest.” You heard a voice that made you look up. “Hi birdie. Miss me?”

Why is he there? When did he enter the store? Why is he wearing a suit?

“Gojo…” You opened your mouth and then closed it again.

“I know, you missed me.” He smirked.

“When did you come?”

“I’ve been here for like two minutes.” He looked at his watch. “You were in another world or something?”

“Are you buying something?” You ignored his question.

“Yep.” He popped the ‘p’. “Here.” He said putting a can in front of you.

“There you have.” You said after paying him.

“You still have a lot of your shift?”

You looked at the watch on the wall and nodded. “Two more hours.”

“I won’t be able to wait for you then.” He pouted.

“I didn’t want you, waiting for me.”

“Don’t be so mean birdie. Anyways, I need to go to my parents house but sent me a message when you get home.”

“Who the fuck do you think you are Gojo!? My boyfriend or something?” You shouted at him when he was exiting the store.

He turned around and looked at you. “Maybe I could be.”

You grabbed a package of tissues from the counter and threw it at him. What the hell? Stupid Gojo Satoru!

“Free tissues for me? How considerate!” He laughed holding the package.

“Get out of my sight Gojo! Now!” You shouted, Gojo turned around and waved goodbye to you.

You sat back down on the stool behind the counter and let out a scream. Gojo Satoru got on your nerves, when you thought he could behave normally, he would make those comments. And the worst thing was the way your stupid heart got when he said them. Fucking idiot.

*･゜ﾟ･*:.｡..｡.:*･'･*:.｡. .｡.:*･゜ﾟ･*

You laid down on the bed in your new room at Kyoko's house. You had finished work an hour ago and Kyoko and his parents had welcomed you with dinner and a smile on their face. When was the last time someone had welcomed you with so much affection after arriving from somewhere? You don't remember it well, but it was probably when your grandmother was still alive.

She always waited for you with a smile on her face when you went to her house after school and she always showered you with kisses and love when the two of you were alone. But that happiness ended when you were 16 and since then you had not felt that warmth in your chest again.

Now you were there, in a new place that you could start calling home. And it was bright, warm and welcoming.

You rolled over yourself and grabbed the phone, clicking on a certain chat. You bite your nail, should you send a message or just talk tomorrow? The best was to leave it for tomorrow. Yeah that was the best. You left it and grabbed one of your notebooks and started reading the notes you took, memorizing it when the phone buzzed on the bed. You put the notebook aside and grabbed it strangely. Then you felt your heart jump hard in your chest. There were only three words on the screen, but they were enough to make your heart race and confuse you to no end.

Pain in the ass

Good night birdie

You to Pain in the ass

Good night Gojo

Note: a comment and a like is always appreciate. Also comment if you want to be added to the tag list.

Tag list: @crybabytoru, @sanriosatoru, @norvacaine, @sadmonke

#satoru gojo x y/n #gojo satoru fluff #gojo satoru smut #satoru gojo x you #satoru gojo x reader #gojo fluff #gojo x reader #gojo satoru x reader #gojou satoru x reader #gojo satoru x you #gojo x you #satoru x you #satoru x reader #gojo satoru x oc #gojo satoru fanfic #gojo satoru x y/n

[the-kr8tor]

TTN hobie and reader during the middle/end of TTN when they r together but before she leaves for LA and r is helping hobie finish setting up his boat and r adding all of her belongings around the house before/while she moves in

-🕊️ anon

Hihihihi Thank you for the lovely request! TTN! Hobie has my heart ❤️

Pairing: Hobie Brown x fem! Reader/ Spider-Punk x fem! Reader

Tags: TTN! Hobie, TTN! Reader, kissing, suggestive content. Story is set before the epilogue and in the middle of chapter 10. Spoilers for thread the needle. Fluff.

Thread The Needle Masterlist

ʕ⁠·⁠ᴥ⁠·⁠ʔ

You didn't waste any time moving in with Hobie. No slowly leaving your things around the house, no slyly stashing your clothes right next to his, not even waiting for the day of your graduation. You and Hobie just decided on a date to move all your belongings to his boat and did it, no side stepping, no dilly dallying, no excuses. Just you and Hobie making round trips from your dorm to the houseboat, arms full of boxes and heavy bags.

The sewing machine was the challenge, being heavy and clunky. Yuri was kind enough to lend you her car for the day, but couldn't help you in moving since she had to study for a quiz. You were kind of thankful for that though, now you have more time to spend with just him and piles and piles of your belongings. Still, with the help of Yuri's beetle, it took two trips of packing and unpacking your stuff.

Hobie never complained nor huffed at the effort, eyes always on your form, arms at the ready to lift boxes for you. You're eternally grateful, that's probably why you're snogging him on the floor of his boat instead of setting up your sewing machine or unpacking your suitcases.

"I need" kiss "to" kiss "unpack." You say in between smacking of lips. Giggling, as if you're not the one instigating the kiss. Back on the hardwood floor, arms looped around his neck, your palm spread over his nape. You resist the urge to glue him into place with your legs, instead you lay limp under him. Eyes tightly closed, smiling through it all.

His strong arms lift him up for a moment before examining your flustered face, beaming up at him. Hobie tilts his head, contemplating if it's worth leaving your arms so you two could unpack. He weighs the pros and cons, deciding.

"Nah" you squeal when he comes back down, expertly moving his lips against yours, every curve and plushness of it already memorized. He knows what to do to incite that sound you make just for him.

You laugh loudly when he presses the soft skin just over your rib cage, ticklish, you pull away with a giggle. Pupils blown out, you stare at his equally large pupils. Breathing heavy, you pinch his nose as revenge.

He surrenders, coming down from the high of kissing you. Eyes roaming around his, no, yours and his living room full of your stuff littered around the place. The kitchen island with your Gromit mug that you claim to despise even though you always use it. Next to it is your school bag, pins and patches decorate the backpack, some of them you've nicked from Hobie.

On the floor next to you are boxes full of your projects, hours upon hours of hard work inside. You giddily showed it all to him before you ended up on the floor from teasing him too much. Clothes and pieces of cloth were put back hastily inside the box just before you descended on the floor. With Hobie's hand placed on the back of your head so you don't smack it against the wood.

After a minute of staring and your laugh bouncing off the walls, Hobie finally speaks, with the full intention of actually starting the process of unpacking.

"Where to first? I could set up the machine–"

"Bedroom" you say with a not so sly smile, half lidded eyes staring at him with fondness.

He blinks in surprise, a low groan in his throat, smirk playing on his kiss bitten lips. "No time to waste then" lifting you up effortlessly, you hide your victorious laugh over his skin. Face hot on his neck. Equally hot hands on the back of your thighs, making sure you don't fall.

Hobie practically jogs over, kicking the door open. It hits the wall with a slam, he stops in his tracks after seeing more piles of boxes on his bed.

Guess you two actually needed to unpack beforehand, whoops.

A/n: Will be posting more of these separate from fluffy fridays! Thank you for reading! ❤️

#request done #ttn one shot #ttn request #thread the needle #hobie brown x reader #spider punk x reader #the kr8tor's creations #hobie brown #spider punk #x reader #atsv fanfiction #spider man across the spider verse #atsv fanfic #atsv x reader #atsv hobie #hobie brown x fem!reader #hobie brown x you #ttn! hobie and reader #spider punk x you #spider punk x fem!reader #hobie fluff #fanfic

[monin1ca]

Hello!:) May I request for an angst with Chamber x Reader (might end up happy haha) but was thinking in a way of a reader having a crush on the agent but seeing him flirt/or getting flirted with another agent - seeing them and closing off to Chamber! (Hopefully it is not super complicated! and of course if you don't want to that is okay <3)

Thank you!! Your stories are a really nice read:> and sorry if it is a bit confusing english is not my first language and it is my first time sending a request haha >.>

Word count: 1.3k

Warnings: Cursing, Slight Red Flag Chamber ( But that's ok, hes a red flag and were the flag poles... *wink wonk*), sad and tired reader (female), I didn't really follow some parts of the request forgive me≡(▔﹏▔)≡

Synopsis:"A-are you sure? I thought you had eyes on Viper-" "I don't know why I do these things; perhaps it's my bad habit." The male lies; he knows why.

"Viper, you must let me take you out sometime. Dinner, dancing, I know the perfect place~" 

"Chamber, I would rather drink my own poison."

You were in the distance, watching this interaction go down; The French man’s thick and caramel-like voice rang through the earpiece.  Your heart aches; you want to be in Viper’s place. Receiving all the flirting and playful banter, you’ve thought of millions of responses to all his classic pick-up lines. It sounded like you were a lovesick puppy following its master because it was true.

You clutched the ghost in your hand; the thing would break in half if you weren’t aware of your strength. Neon immediately noticed your mood gone sour, she looks over at the place you're staring at and rolls her eyes. "Hay nako (Oh my gosh), don't mind him. As much as you fawn over him, you need to focus at the mission on hand." The duelist remarks, "Get to your position," she points her lips to the backsite. "We're about to start." You trudged slowly to the area, setting up your gadgets.

Unbeknowest to you, Chamber was watching your reaction. He left his earpiece open for you to hear. He chuckles at his actions, he shouldn't be showing signs that he didn't want you. It was the opposite. He wanted you badly, so badly. Chamber himself was confused why he was doing this. Perhaps it was the habit of this fake persona he's made.

"Many sightings of enemies going to my site, please send reinforcements." Your voice pierced through the earpiece, catching everyone's attention. "Roger that, your 'lil gadgets should hold 'em back right Y/N?" Phoenix jokes, "Shut up and get over here." "Woah... Someone got up on the wrong side of the bed."

The mission took forever the finish, you were sleepy and tired. Your backpack was extra heavy, because your gadgets were destroyed by the enemy team; plus the samples Killjoy begged you to put in your bag. You were practically stumbling on your way back to the helicopter. " You alright, Y/N?" Phoenix inquires, "No," You whine. "I'm so sleepy and tired and-" You slump down on the floor, "My bags extra heavy! I can't move anymore..." Neon sighs, "Akin na bag mo (Give me your bag)." You drag the heavy bag to Neon. She lifts it up without much effort, "The fuck? What's in here? Rocks?!" "I'll carry you then, after all you held down an entire site on your own! You deserve it!" Phoenix hums, as he lends you a hand. You mumble a small thank you and grab the mans hand. He carries you piggyback style, and the team continues to walk to the designated rendezvous point.

"Brimstone said the 'copter wasn't clear for take-off," Viper sighs, "Why, tho?" Phoenix chimes. "Let me finish my sentence." The controller states coldly, "The reason why is because there was 'air traffic.' Bullshit." "Ah, Viper! My offer still stands," Chamber hums, "I know this place very well. Let me treat you guys to dinner!" The Frenchman pulls out his phone and promptly orders a cab for all of you.

You all arrive at a great place with gold and diamond chandeliers intricately decorated on the ceiling. Rhythmic music plays in the background, setting the mood. Loud chatter and laughter overlap with the music. "Uh- I feel underdressed." You say as you gawk at the place; many beautifully dressed females with pearl necklaces and expensive purses eyed your party with judgemental eyes. With only Chamber dressed for the occasion. "Don't worry, I do too." Neon groans, "I think we all do." Phoenix sighs. The waitress comes and helps you with your table; you sit beside Chamber because "coincidently," there was no other chair available.

One look at the menu and you wanted to faint. "20 DOLLARS FOR ONE TINY LOBSTER??!" You screeched in shock. Chamber snickers as he wraps an arm around you. "Don't worry my friend, It's my treat after all ~" "This is a scam, fam..." Phoenix breathes out shakily, who was also flabbergasted at the prices. You all hesitantly order your food, and some small talk begins at the table.

"So that's how your tattoos work?!" You say, intrigued at Chamber's abilities. "But- Does your trademark also work the same way?" You stop; Chamber was staring at you. With a soft smile on his face, you immediately cover your mouth. "I'm Sorry- I must be annoying you-" "Ah, don't worry, Cheri. After all, I love talking about myself." He giggles as he places his hands on his palms. Chamber feels a slight tap on his shoulder, "Uhm- Hey there, sexy," A well-dressed woman drawls. You internally cringed at her approach, "my friends and I thought you looked absolutely ravishing... We were just wondering if we could get your number?" You thought Chamber would allow his ego to get stroked and entertain them, but no. He turns them down politely and looks back to continue explaining his abilities. The lady looked like she was bitchslapped across her face, clearly not accepting Chamber's rejection. "I will have you reprimanded, young man! Do you know who I am?" "You're an entitled bitch that can't handle rejection." You scoffed, and Chamber was surprised. He hasn't seen this side of you before; perhaps you didn't like how she flirted with him. "Now, excuse me, you're blocking the way of my food." You dismiss her, waving your hand away to shoo her off. The embarrassed woman runs back to her seat, holding off tears. The whole table laughs, and you begin eating.

The night ends well, and the helicopter arrives soon. You all leave the restaurant and go back to the pick-up point. You were at the back of the group with Chamber. Relishing the feeling of being with him, your fatigue catches up with you, and your legs begin wobbling again. Chamber offers to carry you, and you accept graciously. 'Chamber smells so good.' You thought you felt his muscles flexing under his suit and tie. You were gushing so much over his figure you didn't even notice he stopped walking. You only came to your senses when he said, "Cheri, I like you." Panicking at the sudden confrontation, you buried your head in the crook of his head. The air was cold, yet you felt so hot. You shakily breathed out, "A-are you sure? I thought you had eyes on Viper-" "I don't know why I do these things; perhaps it's my bad habit." The male lies; he knows why. "But I'm willing to do anything to make it up to you." That's the truth; he would burn down this godforsaken world for your happiness. He puts you down and faces you, slowly caressing your cheekbones.

"You think they're alright?" Phoenix whispers to Neon as he stares at the two sentinels at the back. "Yeah, I'm sure they are." She chuckles as she witnesses the party kiss. "Jeez, she took long to say it; I don't know how long I could bare their tension." Viper gags, and the firebird shouts. "Ay! Could yall hurry it up?! I know you're having a moment, but Brim says the 'choppers there now!"

Author's Note: HEY AGAIN, JUST GONNA FINISH MY REQUESTS FROM LAST YEAR!! I SWEAR I'M GETTING IT DONE... (I'm lying im trying to farm for Yelan ok（；´д｀）ゞ) ANYWAYS SEE YOU AGAIN TILL THE NEXT ONE<333

#valorant #valorant headcanons #valorant x reader #valorant chamber x reader #valorant chamber #chamber valorant #chamber x reader #valorant neon #valorant viper #valorant phoenix #vincent x reader #vincent fabron

[kashikojae]

There were many things Cellbit thought of when he left his castle that night. New clues! New places to explore, new evidence to find, and the excitement in his face were clear signs of that. His husband remained on the island. He was invited to join, of course, but this time Roier had decided that he wasn't keen to investigate. It was Cellbit's thing. So he went alone, to brave his way through lands unknown to him, and search for anything, any clue, any footprint.

Cellbit certainly was not expecting to find himself in the adoption centre. A place so familiar to him. Where he first met his son. He had gone to the adoption centre a few times, but never looked attentively enough. If only he did. If only he paid attention. Maybe those clues would be found sooner. Maybe he would have found that strange room upstairs. Maybe, just maybe, he would have found them on time.

His heart was heavy, and his eyes were wet, walking back home late at night. A journal on his hand, and somehow a consuming feeling of blame. A life that was lost in vain, that could have been saved if only he had searched in the right places. Cellbit couldn't deny the way he saw himself in those words. They must have been so scared. But of course they were. He had gone through the same thing a few years ago, when he found himself lost in the middle of a war. Alone, with nothing but an empty mind. Oh, yes. He was just like that little kid. Discovering himself just yet, because he had no memories from before waking up in that warzone. An empty vase, ready to discover himself. Just to be broken and moulded into a killing machine — because it was war and they had to win, else something bad may happen.

Only what could be worse than war?

So he did know those words. Every single of them fell heavy on his heart. He saw himself in it. His doubts, his hopes for a better future, his wishes of someone to please, come and save him from that burning hell. Nobody came to him, of course. And he had to grow up to live the consequences of the monster they had made him become. Those memories haunted him every night he tried to make himself sleep. The memories of hurting, the memories of hunting, the memories of killing. Memories. Now that was the only thing left from that kid. A kid who was so excited to live his life, and be found, and be loved, but who died waiting. They both did. 

Only Cellbit had time to rebuild himself, he had a chance to live again. 

That kid, whose only thing left was the journal he now held in his backpack, was not so lucky.

'Gatinho?' He heard when he walked up the stairs, finding his husband in bed.

Even half asleep, Roier could feel something was different on the way Cellbit's breathing was heavy in the air. He couldn't help but notice how his shoulders had no strength to remain put up, how his feet were dragging themselves on the ground, how the shine of his eyes was the glistening of a sad past. So he waited. He sat up, turned on the lights, and waited. Cellbit would tell him if he wanted. But if he did not, Roier would be there to lend him his shoulders to cry on.

'Hola guapito,' his voice was deep and careful, as if there was something so fragile he didn't want to break. He sat on the bed, and didn't wait for Roier to offer his arms. He laid against his chest and closed his eyes. 'I found something today.'

'A new clue, then?'

'I'm not sure if it will take me anywhere,' he moved away to look in his husband's eyes, 'but I--'

'You don't need to tell me,' Roier reassured, when he heard Cellbit's voice breaking.

'I want to tell you,' he whispered. 'I found something in the adoption centre, a journal,' Cellbit shifted in place, and took a little notebook out of his backpack, handing it to Roier. 'It belonged to a kid. They were forgotten there. They were never adopted. No one ever came back to take them somewhere else. They--'

Cellbit's voice faltered again. He closed his eyes, and controlled his breath, as Roier read the pages carefully. It didn't take much for him to understand what was so painful. His eyes were filled with tears just before the last few pages. He put the book aside and hugged Cellbit. He was not sure what to do, or how deeply that kid's story had touched him, but he knew it hurted him badly. Roier's tears were empathetic, but Cellbit's tears were wounded.

'I can't help but think what could've happened if I had found that place sooner.'

Roier pushed him away and held his face so they could look into each other's eyes.

'Cellbit, it's not your fault,' Roier said. 'You don't have any part in this.'

'I know, but still,' he shrugged.

'I know how you feel. Maybe not all of it, but I know enough. There's nothing we could have done, gatinho, we didn't know.'

Cellbit sighed. 'You're right.'

He nestled against Roier's chest as they laid on bed, cuddling. Roier caressed Cellbit's hair, comforting him. It was no help wondering what could have happened. He searched for the backpack Cellbit had dropped next to bed a few minutes before, and brought it up to his lap, which caught Cellbit's attention.

'The least we can do,' he said, fetching some charms he had on their cabinet, 'is to honour his wishes. And not forget him.'

On the very front of Cellbit's backpack, Roier hung a silver charm of an egg. It was decorated with a plaid pattern all around it, and a tiny trinket on the front. Cellbit moved his hand towards the silvery egg and, pushing the trinket up with his fingers, opened it to discover a minimal silver hatchling resting inside.

'It's beautiful,' he whispered.

'That way we'll never forget our kid.'

'Our kid?' Cellbit indulged. 'Are we adopting them?'

'I don't like the idea of letting them remain orphaned, even if they're passed away.'

'Okay,' Cellbit giggled. 'And what do we call them?'

Roier spent a few minutes wondering. Thinking of something they could honour that little lost soul.

'Memories,' he declared.

He saw Cellbit's eyes glisten in the moonlight coming from the window.

That's when he knew he made the right choice.

'Memories,' Cellbit whispered, caressing the little silver charm with his fingers. 'I like it.'

'I bet Bobby has been annoying the hell out of them anyway, we have no choice but to embrace them as family.'

That took a laugh out of Cellbit, which soon was followed by Roier's own laughter.

Their family was delicate. It was built over much pain, and effort. Both Cellbit and Roier had fought their way into happiness, and there was a lot of loss in the way. But, still, they found happiness in each other. Roier's light was bright enough to light Cellbit's dark past. And Cellbit's love was big enough to heal every crack in Roier's heart. They found themselves in each other in a way they never thought they could.

'Eu te amo,' Cellbit said.

'Yo amo a ti también,' said Roier.

And they slept into each other's arms.

"(...) I was alive. I was somebody. I had hopes, I had ambitions, I had love that I was ready to give. (...)  Please don't forget me."

#idk #i just remembered the memories thing and felt melancholic #also wanted to try writing something #spiderbit #guapoduo #qsmp cellbit #qsmp roier #qsmp #fanfic #headcanon #hc

[sunshinejeonglixie]

SKZ When you have a panic attack

tags: sfw, gender neutral reader, panic attacks mentioned but not described, fluffy comforting skz, could be platonic or romantic whatever you interpret tbh

a/n: i have pretty severe anxiety struggles & skz music + content always comforts me so i thought this was a cute idea to write

!!Everything written here is fiction, not meant to be taken as real life, if anything here makes you uncomfortable please just block & move on!!

Chan

dad mode

nothing will convince me he doesn’t have some sort of fidget toy bag in his backpack for the members or himself & he’ll let you use them too

snacks & water

hoodies for you to hide in

Lee Know

cat pictures for comfort

how can you panic when his cats are so cute?

good at creating distractions

wanna hear about the new choreo he’s making to take your mind off of whatever you’re stressed about? You best bet you’re getting every single detail.

will make your comfort food later to show his love

Changbin

strong hugs

he is loud always but if you need a minute of silence he has never been so quiet

literally will do anything you need from him, would get the moon if that’s what you needed to feel calm and safe again

wanna snuggle with his munchlax plushie gyu? hell yea you can

Hyunjin

also a hugger like Changbin but much softer

humming & singing to give you something else to listen to and focus on

plays with your hair (even if its not that long or anything)

lets you sit and just play with his hands (this sounds so calming to me so this is literally just something I want lmao)

Han

oh boy this man is like the number one panic attack comforter out there

understands how you feel and just wants to listen to whatever you need

will share his national geographic videos and facts with you

also has a bag of fidget toys like Chan

Felix

literal sunshine put into a human

counting his freckles as a grounding technique (another thing I just think would calm me during my panic attacks lmao)

brownies, cookies, other baked goods for comfort

deep voice humming (sounds so comforting omg)

Seungmin

also letting you borrow his hoodies like Chan

just holds you (like this man is not a huge physical affection kinda guy but for you he is the biggest softie & always hugging or holding hands)

will lend you his puppy plushie like Changbin will lend you gyu

I.N

the biggest smiles to try and cheer you up

lets you pinch & poke his cheeks

hand holding

will sing your fave songs for you

#stray kids #skz #stray kids fanfic #writing #fanfic #sfw #bang chan #lee know #changbin #hyunjin #han #lee felix #seungmin #i.n #skz x reader #skz ot8 #ot8 #skz imagines #skz fluff #skz fanfic #skz scenarios

[atcordare]

TWST characters as things my 16 yo brother has done/still does.

Heartslabyul:

RIDDLE: Gave my mom a lecture because she wouldn't stop leaving lights on around the house.

ACE: I make him fine delicious wonderful delicate magnificent ethnic dishes and he fucking puts ketchup in them.

DEUCE: Currently sitting on the couch watching something on TV but he has a chair on his head.

TREY: 5 minutes straight complimenting a brioche bread I brought home from the market. When I had to go back for groceries two weeks later and he asked me to bring it again and I had to tell him I didn't remember which bread it was he was really disappointed.

CATER: Got rickrolled and immediately made the guys reenact the scene to send it to me in a vid and ruin MY morning too.

LEONA: He's a very heavy sleeper so if he wants to get to his school (7 minutes away from our house BTW) on time, which is at 9am, he has to set alarms every five minutes starting at 6.50am. They're extremely loud and everyone in the house wakes up to them. He doesn't. He stills get to school late, just with all of us mad at him.

.

Savannaclaw:

RUGGIE: Banned from being outside after 8pm because he WILL stop by the kebab place and bring back dinner without anyone asking him and he WILL demand the money back (also inflating the price a bit so he can get some benefits).

JACK: Heard me mention once that I wanted to play Hades so he asked for it on his birthday and gave it to me afterwards.

.

Octavinelle:

AZUL: He's the only one with physical cash at home so when any of us needs to grab some he's the one to lend it. He asks for it back like not even two days later and he will impose fees if you're late.

FLOYD: Sometimes he'll just grab the cats and reposition them. Like they're nicely sleeping and he just goes over, grabs them and leaves them somewhere else. He also doesn't understand when they get annoyed so he can only pet them in front of me and my mom. (EXTRA: had to leave his rowing team because he was too tall for his league's boats)

JADE: Will cut you off and start explaining advanced mathematics if he wants you to shut up.

.

Scarabia:

KALIM: *enters my room* HEY CHECK THIS OUT *starts jumping like with his knees to his chest and doesn't stop until he does a particularly high jump* OKAY CATCH YOU LATER *heads to the living room and starts playing the trombone he hasn't even looked at since he was 9*.

JAMIL: He's constantly mumbling his inner monologue but will get annoyed at you if you do the same.

.

Pomefiore:

VIL: When he was like seven our mom bought knee high boots with a 7cm heel and he stole them and wore them for like a week straight. He can now walk in high heels because of this.

ROOK: *enters my room* Kakashi from Naruto offers you choccy milk. Accept? Deny? *I reply that I shoot him in the chest six times bc I thought he was joking so he throws a choccy milk box at my head* WRONG YOU HEATHEN. *I turn and see him on a Naruto character cosplay-idk which one but definetly not Kakashi*

EPEL: We were at my Mexican extended family's house and we had tacos for lunch. When he heard out grandma in law tell us that we should be careful with the toppings because they were very spicy, he grabbed one of the tortillas, spooned all of the chili and pico de gallo he could get inside of it and ate it just like that. When asked he said he wanted to challenge himself but it doesn't really explain why he had do that another six times especially after making it obvious that he could NOT handle it.

.

Ignihyde:

IDIA: Used to carry an entire manga collection on his backpack every day. Not a short one either it was an entire 20 manga books on his back every day.

ORTHO: The kids at our school didn't like him very much so me and all of my higher grade friends adopted him. He was the token little kid in the 11th grade friend group.

.

Diasomnia:

MALLEUS: Sometimes he gets quiet during conversations when something someone said catches his attention. He will think about it, lose the thread of conversation, and, when the topic has already changed at least a few times, he will give his thoughts without even reminding us the context.

SEBEK: I told him once that he's not good playing Tracer at OW so now every time he plays her and wins he yells at me from his room and says I WON AGAIN USING TRACER!!!!

SILVER: Every time one of our cats meows he replicates the noise. We all do. We don't even notice we're doing it at this point.

LILIA: Constantly playing at a JJBA Roblox Roleplay server and when he loses I can hear him yelling at his 12yo teammates.

#twst #twisted wonderland #twst meme #twst memes #incorrect twst #incorrect quotes

[admiringlove]

fishes of the same pond

synopsis. a book. a boy. a shelf at the empty side of the library. and a sweet little spin of fate with romance and some pining. what could go wrong?

pairing. miya osamu x gn!reader.

genre. one-shot; fluff; angst; strangers/idiots to lovers; college au; fake-dating au.

word count. 12.5k (i know, i’m sorry)

warnings. swearing; miya dialect lmao; reader and osamu are both idiots.

author’s notes. this fic follows the japanese school year, not to be confused with an american school year! goes from april to the next year in march, with breaks in between :)

navigation. main menu, hq menu.

Your day was not going well. You overslept, the coffee shop was filled to the brim with teenagers(the barista said something about high schools taking a field trip to Tokyo), and you forgot to bring the printed copy of your essay into class for English. 

(You were lucky it was your best subject.)

And now here you were, the bell ringing as you packed up your laptop and textbook in your Economics class. You sighed, the weather was surely getting hotter. Soon you'd have to put the sweater vests you liked wearing in the depths of your closet and pull out t-shirts instead. Spring break had just finished, and here you were in your second year in college. It was April, and school had just started this month. 

You threw your backpack over your shoulder, brushing your hair away from your face with your hands as you walked down the stairs. You were going to head to the library now to finish up a few projects and get some reading done. It was usually fairly empty during this time of the day as classes just finished. People would start piling in here in an hour or two, so you think you'll have some free time before you can head to your part-time job. 

You hang your backpack by its straps on a chair before heading to a part of the library which isn't frequently visited. Your eyes dart around the section, and then you see it. You get on your tippy-toes, your hand touching the spine of the book. The glossy cobalt finishing of it feels good against your fingers. You huff as you jump a little, not being able to pull the book from its spot.

Who made these shelves? You think angrily, They're made for athletes and brutes, not for people with average height. 

You narrow your eyes, before jumping yet again. But then someone is behind you, and a larger hand is reaching for the same book you are. You turn around, confused and eyebrows furrowed. A boy with grey hair stands there, holding the book you want, as he asks, "The other one got checked out already, ya think ya can lend this to me for a bit?"

He's pretty, you ponder.

"I-um, I actually don't have much of it left to read. Only around twenty pages," you mumble, awkwardly fiddling with your fingers as you look at him. He's easy on the eyes, really. Hooded grey eyes that match his kind of disheveled grey hair, figure well-built, voice deep—

"Oh," he says, "I'll sit with ya then, you can finish up 'n I'll take it with me after. Sound good?"

You blink out of it, "U-uh yeah, sure."

Problem is, you have absolutely zero idea what he just said. He hands you the book, and you thank him before walking to your table in the corner. And he follows you. Your eyes widen when he sits on the chair in front of you. He pulls out his laptop before beginning typing, while you just sit there and watch him work. And for a second, his eyes drift from his screen to yours, "Aren't ya gonna read the book?"

(Why was he sitting here again? And why was his dialect so cute?)

You nod hesitantly, gulping on air as you pick up the book. How were you supposed to focus when a boy(who was so beautiful even the girls were probably jealous of him) sat in front of you and casually talked to you? It's not like this is your first interaction with a good-looking person, you've had plenty of them before. Hell, your best friends are some of the most attractive people you know. There was something different about this boy though, you feel like you've seen him somewhere and couldn't quite place it. You let out a shaky breath before finishing your book as hurriedly as you can.

And as you close it, he smiles at you. His flamingo pink lips curl, and he thanks you, "I'm Miya Osamu, by the way."

"[L/N] [Y/N]."

He nods, "Thanks, I'll see ya later."

You hoped not. This exchange was awkward enough already. 

The next day, you run into Miya Osamu.

Quite literally. You were afraid of being late for your English lecture because the Professor had told you that he was going to let you submit the essay you had forgotten yesterday. You were rummaging through your backpack, and then you bumped into someone's broad chest. And then you fell on your bum, in the middle of the fucking corridor. You get some stares from the people passing by. 

Why did today have to suck too? You mentally whine.

"Shit, 'm so sorry!" the person in front of you expresses, and helps you stand up. 

(Wait a minute. That voice sounds too familiar.)

"[Y/N]?" Miya Osamu stares at you, blinking every few seconds as you pant, "Hi, Osamu."

"You have English right now too?" he asks, pointing to the door. You nod, "Wait, what do you mean 'too'?" 

"I'm in this class," he says, smiling. You blink a few times, processing the information as you repeat what he just said like a parrot, "You're in this class."

"Yes," he nods, "Apparently you need English to become a business student."

He was studying business too?! You seriously wanted to slam your head into the wall. How was this boy, that you were sure you knew from somewhere, in the same classes as you and studied the same thing you did? And why was he so pretty?

The first bell rang, signaling that you had around a minute to get inside before you were officially late. You gave Osamu a tight-lipped smile as you say, "Gotta go" in a hurried yet hushed tone. He only nods, following you inside(just like how he followed you to your table yesterday). You hand the professor your five-thousand-word essay before walking to your seat in the third row. You glance back for a minute, only to find out that Osamu sits two rows behind you. 

(Maybe that's why you never noticed him.)

The professor begins talking about a big project, and you zone out for most of it. And then at the end, you manage to get a crucial detail. Your ears perk up, and your eyes widen as you hear your professor say, "I forgot to mention that this project is fifteen percent of your final grade, and you will need a partner for it as well. It's not due until the end of the year because you have around five or six very long books to sample and/or write reports for, and I will be assigning those in the following week. Make sure to get someone to partner up with you once class is over."

Crap.

Why did the English class need to have partners? Your friends aren't in this class, and even if one of them is, his lecture was the first one of the day. He's probably on the other side of campus right now. Damn it, Akaashi.

The lecture drones on for around forty-five minutes before you're dismissed. You're packing up your things again, thinking about how you're going to get a partner in this class. You don't even know anyone here. Your friends are either in different colleges or in different lectures. School just started anyway, and if everyone else partners up with someone then you'll be left alone. 

"[Y/N]," you hear a voice beside you. You blink profusely before shaking yourself out of your thoughts, "Wanna partner up with me?"

You look up, and Miya Osamu is standing right there. Besides your desk, tapping his foot, looking as ethereal as ever. You swear your breath hitches in your throat, and he continues, "I gotta warn ya though, 'm not really good at English. I just need this class for one year. You might have to tutor me or somethin'."

You nod, standing up with your backpack, "Alright, I guess... I guess we can be partners." 

Something about Miya Osamu's presence was comforting. He seemed to understand you were scared of talking to him, so he would ask you yes or no questions and then make conversations himself. Most of these topics involved food for some reason—you didn't question it, you were talking to him in broken words now, some shyness falling away when he talked about your favorite foods. You were in the library again, skimming through a few bookshelves to find a new book. Osamu followed you there, talking to you in a hushed tone to get to know you better. The two of you were going to work together for this project after all, so why not become friends, or acquaintances while you're at it? You mentally thanked him for trying more than you, even though he seemed like the quiet type. You're putting the book in your bag after checking it out as he asks, "Why are you studying business?"

"I wanna open a restaurant someday," you say, "Or some kind of coffee shop, I don't know. Like some place to make people comforted and also pleased with the environment."

"Oh," he ponders for a moment, "I'm studying so I can open a restaurant too."

(Oh come on, how many more things were you supposed to share with this guy? First, your classes. Now, your dreams too? Ugh.)

"Really?" you murmur, "Can I ask you why?"

It's not like you don't want to know. You do, really. He's pretty, and he looks like he's been on some sports team his whole life. You don't understand why someone like him would want to do anything with opening a restaurant. His eyes are like two pools of the sea in a storm. If you could look in them, stare at them, you could probably see the little white specks resemble lightning. 

"My whole life I grew up playin' volleyball. My brother loved it. It was like his whole life revolved around it too. People didn't like 'im up until high school when he started flirtin' around and colored his hair. And I guess somewhere in the middle-uv all that, I learned how to cook 'n fell in love with it. When my brother was in the gym durin' the weekends havin' no life whatsoever, I was experimentin' in the kitchen. And then I didn't wanna live in my brother's shadow anymore so I told him that, we fought 'n now 'm here. Studyin' 'cause I want my own restaurant- wait. I rambled, didn't I?" he sheepishly asks, rubbing the back of his neck. His dialect was more profound now, and it was attractive to hear him talking in it. It seems he grows more into it when he's excited or lost in thought. You smiled at him, a ghost of a giggle escaping your lips, "I guess you did."

"Sorry."

"No no, don't be," your eyes crinkle as you set the books down on the table, "It was kinda cute. I don't mind. My reason's more depressing, anyway."

"Ya don't have to tell me about it," his eyes feel gentle as they look back at yours. His stormy grey eyes are surely growing on you because you want him to keep staring at you. Sadly the split-second comes to an end as he asks, "Wait, we don't have the books for the assigned reading yet. What are we doin' here?"

"Remember when you said your English was weak?" you ask, pulling out a binder from your backpack. You open it, skipping the first few pages before you continue, "I'm good at it, maybe I can help you for a bit until we have to do the project. Because we're gonna have to split up work later and the reports need to flow together well. So, I thought I could help you, and it'll be like revising the material for me."

You genuinely don't know where this newfound confidence is coming from. Alright, maybe it wasn't newfound. You just felt at ease with Osamu. There was something about his presence that made you feel more comfortable than you have ever been. He didn't seem like the extroverted type, but he still made an effort to talk to you and keep up with the conversation even when you didn't put anything on the table. 

"R-really?" he stammers, "You'd do that?"

You nod. 

"I gotta warn ya though, I'm broke and I won't be able to pay ya for the lessons," he says, "Me and my brother live in a small one-room 'round three blocks away, 'n we both work to pay the rent."

"That won't be a problem," you laugh, "You don't have to pay me."

"You sound more and more unreal with every sentence that comes out of yer mouth."

"Let me get this straight, Miya Osamu is in your English class. And he's getting tutored by you for free. And you think he's hot."

"No, I was speaking in French and I said that I have a hot date tonight. What else do you think, dumbass?" you raised an eyebrow. Kuroo only shakes his head as he smirks at you, sipping from his beer. Akaashi sits next to you, shaking his head at the exchange. Until Bokuto speaks up, "Wait, the Miya Osamu?"

"You know him?" you ask, voice louder than before. Kuroo starts laughing, and honestly, everyone else does too. Kenma lets out a giggle, even though he continues playing Mario Kart on his Playstation. Akaashi shakes his head again, but this time with a small chuckle, "Come on, guys. It's not like I asked you the most obvious question in the world."

"You kinda did," Kenma's eyes crinkle, "Everyone knows the Miya twins."

Wait. The Miya twins?!

"No fucking way," you murmur, "No fucking way! I knew he sounded familiar!"

"Can you not scream in my ear, please?" Akaashi deadpans, "I'm pretty sure Kuroo and Bokuto know a lot about him anyway, they were usually the ones to talk to them the most. Bokuto is in the same program as Atsumu for volleyball coaching too."

"Oh yeah, Osamu stopped doing volleyball," Kuroo perks up, "Something about a restaurant, I don't know. But Atsumu's still one of the best setters I know."

"So tell us more about you finding him hot," Bokuto wiggles his eyebrows, "Are you gonna give us details?"

"Literally nothing happened between us," you narrow your eyes, "I'm tutoring him. That's all."

"Maybe you should ask him to cook you food. That's top tier romance right there," Kuroo ruffles your hair as he gets up to walk to the fridge. You reckon he's going there for more beer, but he pulls out a frozen pizza instead. 

You huff, "Maybe I will."

You hate the fact that you run into Miya Osamu in the library during lunch break the very next day.

His eyes glimmer when they land on you, and the sandwich you had taken a bite out of mere seconds before feels as dry as the Sahara desert in your mouth as soon as you spot him. 

He walks over, putting his bag on the floor next to his chair as he says, "How's yer day been so far?"

You roll your eyes at the question, "Like it always is. Crappy. The lady at the coffee shop made my drink too sweet, and then I tripped on the way to my first lecture."

He laughs—and boy is it melodic. You swear this is what heaven feels like when you enter it because no way in hell(Sorry, God.) can someone sound this beautiful while laughing. Damn you, Miya.

"Here," he hands you an onigiri. You stare at it for a second, before hesitantly taking it from him, "What about you?" 

"I finished eating my lunch already. Packed an extra for my idiot brother, but he ate from his girlfriend's lunch," Osamu's face becomes sour when he mentions his brother's girlfriend, but it only lasts a split second. He then looks over at the book in front of you, "Oh, is that Shakespeare?" 

You hum, "At least one of Shakespeare's plays are going to be in our report, might as well read through a few, right?"

"You're somethin' else," he shakes his head, giving you a shy smile, "Seriously, if I paid attention in English instead of writing down recipes in my journal, I'd probably be better off."

And that was the moment you took a bite out of Osamu's onigiri. You are so sure that you made a weird sound as you gulped, but he only winces as he asks, "Is it bad?"

"Are you kidding?" you furrow your eyebrows, "It's the opposite!"

"Really?" he perks up, "I've been tryin' out new ingredients, and I usually test 'em on 'Tsumu because I don't care if he gets an upset stomach."

"This should be your payment for my lessons, holy shit," you say, taking another bite. He chortles, and you only blink at him before he points at his nose. You tilt your head in confusion before he reaches his left hand to your face and picks something off the top of your nose, "You had a rice speck on yer nose."

Your face heats up and you can swear you want to die in a hole right about now. You also wish he fed you the rice speck, because that would've been oddly sexual. But before you could finish that thought, your mouth speaks on its own, "T-thanks."

"Y'know what?" Osamu says, "Done deal, 'm gonna bring ya lunch every day in the library. How 'bout that?"

"Sounds great, Miya," you say, a shy yet inviting smile taking over your lips.

A few weeks pass. Now that your professor has assigned you the said books and plays, you spend an awful lot of your time with Osamu. He brings you your lunch at the library every day, and you find everything he makes delicious. Seriously, if this boy ends up becoming a chef, his restaurant's going to be filled with the entire city. If not, the entire country.

And every woman—and man, to be honest. He's too pretty for just women to fall for him—that walks through the doors of his restaurant is probably going to ogle at him the entire time she's there. Your spine shuddered at the thought. 

Not to mention, Osamu doesn't just spend his lunch-time with you. No, he also spends after-school hours with you(whenever you're free, that is) learning English and reading Shakespeare. Sometimes you study in the library, or in the coffee shop that apparently both of you visited in the mornings. The only difference was that he ordered a chai and you liked coffee more. 

"Okay, okay," Osamu laughs, "Lemme read the part. 'But that I love the gentle Desdemona, I would not my unhousèd free condition put into circumscription and confine for the sea’s worth. But look, what lights come yond?'. Did I say that right?"

"Good job!" you clap, "Your next pastry's on me, okay?"

"Might do my work more seriously if ya start buyin' me pastries for every time I pronounce somethin' right," he jokes. You throw him a playful glare before you say, "Okay wait, I'm gonna send you some audio files for practice so you can listen to them and multi-task, okay? It'll make it easier, so you don't have to carry around the whole script for Othello around all the time."

"Yer sayin' 'm supposed ta listen ta this crap instead of music while cookin' or runnin'?" he raises an eyebrow. You nod, "Or, save some time before sleeping and practice in front of a mirror. This is more awkward and cringy, though."

"Cookin’ and runnin’ it is!" he exclaims.

Another week passes. You're on your shift at the local bakery when Osamu walks in. 

He doesn't notice you just yet, and you take the chance to swiftly attempt to walk into the kitchen. There's another person on the other side of the counter, so even if Osamu wants to place an order, they'll probably step in for you. You glance behind you, and just as you're about to turn the corner, you hear your name. 

"[Y/N]?" 

Shit. He saw you. 

"H-hey," you mutter, turning slowly. Your lips hold a wobbly smile, and your hand raises and hangs in the air awkwardly. You walk up to the register, and a small smirk falls on the younger Miya's lips. He quirks an eyebrow at you, "So you work here, huh?"

"Place your order," you ignore his statement and grit your teeth, "What would you like to order today?"

"Never been here before, recommend me somethin'," he chuckles, "I try out random bakeries and coffee shops once in a while."

You hum, a small grin falling on your face, "Well, we did just finish freezing a fresh batch of cheesecakes. Pick one and I'll serve it for you."

"Ya got strawberry?" he smiles. You nod, clicking the option on the register, "When's your shift end?"

You ponder for a moment, thinking whether or not you want to answer the question. Who are you even kidding? Of course, you do. You check your wristwatch, "Um, ten minutes."

"'Kay so make that two slices, and bring it ta me in ten minutes. Along with yerself," he says. Your face heats up as random erotic thoughts fill your brain; Osamu and you, right here in front of everyone, and his lips nibbling on your—

"Are ya okay?"

You cough, covering your face with one hand to hide your embarrassment. He gives you a cheeky smile before seating himself in a window seat, and waves at you from his spot once he's settled. You shake your head. 

God, he's going to be the death of you. 

A few more people walk in, and you place their orders as Osamu watches you fondly from his seat. His face is resting on his palm, that's supported by his elbow on the table. His backpack is hanging off the chair, and he pretends to stare at his phone whenever you look back. 

You could've sworn he was looking at you, though. It felt like his eyes were drilling holes through you, and you were sweating more than usual due to all the built-up nervousness. That asshole.

The alarm on your digital watch rings, and you quickly turn it off before walking inside the kitchen. A heavy sigh comes out of your lips as you remove your apron, and pick up the two plates on the table before walking outside. Osamu shifts in his seat as you approach the table and sit in front of him, "Stop smiling like that, idiot."

"Like what?" he sheepishly asks, "Is smilin’ illegal now?"

You shake your head as you tell him to eat his cheesecake, "So."

You had never really been alone with him for anything other than your stupid project. And lunch was usually spent talking about the project or practicing English together, so this felt new. 

"I forgot to tell ya, I finished learnin' all the recordings," he says, taking a spoonful of cheesecake in his mouth, "Also, this is really good."

"This bakery's pretty authentic, you know. And sometimes if stuff gets left over, they let us take it home for free. There's been times when me and my roommate, Mika, had cakes for dinner and breakfast," you shrug. Osamu looks at you in awe, and you're sure that if you paused this moment he'd start drooling any time now, "Maybe I should quit my job at the garage 'n just come work here instead."

"You work with cars?" you ask. He nods, "Yep, 'n this one time we got an old one that was really screwed up. My boss said that if any one of us fixed it, we'd get to keep it."

"Did you get it?" you ask, a little glimmer in your eyes. Osamu smiles, looking outside the window. You follow his line of sight to find an old yellow car standing in the lot—it was really small, and it genuinely looked like some old lady from the fifties drove it. You try to stop yourself from laughing, but you fail. Osamu narrows his eyes at you, a tiny blush covering his cheeks, "Shut up."

"That car is- oh my god," you snicker, "'Samu, it looks like a ninety-year-old woman owns that car."

"Yeah, it's old but it gets me places 'n I got it for free," he justifies, grumpily taking a bite of his cheesecake as he continues, "I even got some other stuff installed in it from my salary!"

"Like what?" you ask, teasingly. He huffs, "Well, for starters, a music system! Doesn't have bluetooth, but I installed an aux. A sun-roof 'n better tires too."

"It's cute," you giggle. He scoffs, "'M startin' ta think that's more of an insult than a compliment."

You were in a hurry today. 

Summer break started from tomorrow. Which meant you had three weeks off of school, extra shifts at the bakery, and homework from every class to complete. Sometimes you would try to find time to go out with your friends—Mika would kill you if you didn't spend at least a few days of break with her, and you wanted to see Osamu. Your heart felt giddier, thinking about how you'd try to go and try some coffee shops with him(he'd insisted you come along next time after he visited your bakery), or ask him to make you some food. The two of you hadn't talked about how your breaks would go, and you're pretty sure you wouldn't get to see him today. He wasn't in English, and you didn't see him during recess either. 

You were growing worried. What if you don't get to see him during the holidays at all? It's not like your summer would be ruined if you didn't see him, it would just... not be how you imagined it. You had daydreamed about sitting home and having Disney marathons with Mika without having to worry about classes, going outside with Osamu and ordering things you didn't know how to pronounce(random french words had become popular on coffee shop menus these days)—mostly, you had only thought about how you'd ogle him whenever he wasn't paying attention to you. Now that you thought about it, you felt a little guilty about that.

(And kind of like a creep. Yikes.)

Classes were over for the day, and you were hurrying home. Mika had said she was going to bring her boyfriend home tonight so he could meet you. And you remembered Kuroo telling you how much he hated the Nohebi Captain for saying the exact things that tended to piss him off. You couldn't wait, mostly because now you'd have a new friend who liked to irritate Kuroo as much as you did. 

"Crap," you mumbled, checking your phone. 

Your eyes crinkle as you hold back a chuckle, pushing the key into the lock of your apartment. You leave your shoes in the rack, opting for your bunny slippers as you begin to change into comfortable pajamas.

It's almost four, and there's a knock at your door. You've barely walked out of your room. You furrow your eyebrows. Mika shouldn't be here this early, you were just texting her half an hour ago.

You don't expect Miya Osamu to be standing at your door, with a thick textbook in hand as he gives you a small grin, "Hey, you forgot this at yer desk. Came ta see ya before ya left but, you were gone. Professor gave me this and told me ta give it to ya."

"'Samu," you tilt your head and say his name breathily, heart fluttering as you continue, "Thank you."

"No problem," he says. For a second there, the two of you stop. The whole world fades away somehow, and you're staring into his eyes. He's looking in yours, and the smile on his lips doesn't wipe off for even a split second. But then the moment ends.

"I-uh," he pauses, "I should go."

He turns, beginning to walk away but your voice speaks his name before you even have a chance to think, "Osamu, wait!"

He does. He stops and turns to look at you. You try to smile as you say, "Wanna stay over until after dinner? My roommate's bringing her boyfriend and extra takeout."

And you hope he says yes. You close your eyes shut, and you hope he says okay. You can hear your heartbeat fasten, and your mind running at the speed of Usain Bolt.

"Sure."

It feels like a thousand pounds have been taken off of your shoulders, you audibly let out a breath you didn't know you were holding, and you open the door wide open as you let Miya Osamu in.

And that's when you realize, this is the first time he's actually inside your apartment. He has given you a ride home after work a couple of times, so that's how he knows where you live, but he's never really been inside. The nervousness in your stomach builds up again as you ask, "Wanna watch a movie?"

He gives you a toothy grin in return.

Sometime later, Mika and her boyfriend come home and the hours pass by within a blink. You didn't mind most of it, except when Mika tried to tease you about Osamu when he was grabbing something from the kitchen with Daishо̄. You slapped your hand over her mouth, face as red as a tomato then. It's a little past midnight now as Daishо̄ gets ready to leave, and you decide to walk Osamu to his car. 

The city sounds muffled, almost, as the two of you giggle against each other's warmth. You say something and Osamu laughs, and it just so happens that in this moment, you don't want the crinkle of his eyes and the upturn of his lips to disappear. You say something again, he hides his face by looking the other way as he continues laughing. 

It feels so perfect. So comfortable. You want this one instant to last an eternity. He looks over at you, his grey eyes inquisitive as he says, "Ya look a little sad. Somethin' wrong?"

"Um, no," you shake your head, chuckling, "Nothing's wrong."

"Yer makin' that face when ya feel sad but ya don't wanna show it," he stands against his car, "But keep yer secrets."

You smile almost bitterly, as you take a step forward and stand next to him, placing your back against his car. He looks at you, his head slightly tilted in the most innocently caring way as you lean yours against his shoulder. You feel him stiffen underneath at first, but then, he calms down. And he leans against your touch, barely whispering, "What's wrong?"

"Today was really fun," you mumble, "And I don't want it to end."

He lets out a small breath, "Oh."

"Yeah."

It feels peaceful like this, against his warmth. There’s an unsaid understanding and the night air feels like a blanket on a wintery morning, holding the two of you close. There are muted city sounds in the background, and there's slight tension in the air until he interrupts the silence. 

"Y'know," he pauses, "Whenever I used to play volleyball with my brother back in high school, it felt exactly like this. ‘Twas exhilarating. We practiced every day, we went home 'n we played volleyball in the backyard at night, doin' sets 'n receives till we could barely keep our eyes open. When I told him I didn't wanna do it anymore, he got mad. I understood why—anyone would be mad if the person that's been there for their whole lives just up and leaves 'em one day. But now, he has way better people by him, people who are just as hardworkin' as him. And I couldn't be happier for him. He's where he belongs."

After a long pause, you whisper, "But I belong here, ‘Samu. I don't want better people. I want you."

You find him blushing, and maybe it's the liquid courage in your system that caused you to say what you just did. Oh God, you were so stupid. How could you say something like that? You panic, "Well, and my friends. You're my friend too. Th-That's why I said what I said."

He laughs, eyes crinkling as they reflect the moonlight back at you. You laugh too—it feels like this moment could last forever as the two of you hold onto your stomachs because of how much it hurts, holding onto the top of his car for support. 

Sometime after a small conversation about a topic you can't remember anymore, he opens the door of his car. You stand there, hands fidding with the hem of your jacket as a blush overtakes your cheeks. Just as he's about to sit inside, he turns and looks back at you and says what's easily the most romantic thing anyone has ever said to you. 

"Just so ya know," he pauses, "I don't want a better person either. I want you.”

Months pass. 

After that night, you ended up spending most of your summer at work or with your friends. Osamu made guest appearances every now and then—you were always doing something that grounded you when you were with him, it was prosaic but somehow you loved it. Sometimes you'd catch yourself imagining something more with him. And you liked how mundane it sounded. How everything would be simple, and how you wouldn't have to fight to keep your relationship interesting because you would have some place or food to talk about. When the daydreaming reached a certain limit, you would mentally scold yourself before continuing with whatever you were doing before. 

Fall passes too, but this time you spent more time with Osamu than anyone else. Even though you usually spend your autumn seasons with your friend group; cuddled up watching movies, playing video games in Kenma's apartment, or reading books with Akaashi at the library. This time, you spent your fall evenings with Osamu at the coffee shop. A cup of chai at your disposal as you and the boy you were hopelessly in love with talked about anything and nothing at the same time—wait. 

It's December 22 today, and it's also six-twenty-five in the morning when you realize your crush on Miya Osamu isn't just a simple crush. He's been on your mind ever since you caught sight of him, and there's not one day that goes by where he isn't running around in your brain. It wasn't a completely sudden thought, the realization was moreso an 'oh' moment. You stopped in your tracks, you thought "oh", and then you continued getting ready for class. 

You bump into him before English, and he gives you a quick smile before walking inside. He seems like he's thinking about something really deeply—he appears troubled, honestly. Like he's trying to find a solution to something but he just can't seem to think of an answer. Your eyes try to find him in the coffee shop after classes. You don't have work today because the owner of the bakery needed to go to Osaka for some business so the shop is closed until tomorrow.

(You reckon you'll be swamped until Christmas day. Ugh.)

The boy your eyes were aching to see walks inside, looking around quizzically until he spots you. He waves before walking over and placing his backpack beside him at the booth, "One more day until Winter Break, got anythin’ planned?"

"Nope, not really. I'll probably go to my parents' house on Christmas Eve to give them gifts and have dinner. They'll do the same thing as they always do, ask me about college and if I have a partner. And then I'll come back to the apartment in the morning or at night, depending on what I feel like doing."

He hums half-mindedly, and you furrow your eyebrows. He looks lost in thought, and you snap him out of his trance when you ask, "Something on your mind?"

He shakes his head before he notices the waiter coming over with two drinks. She places them on the table and leaves, and Osamu sends you a smile and mumbles "thank you" before sipping on the hot chocolate almost immediately. 

"'Samu, I know you well enough to understand when something's bothering you. Come on, tell me what's wrong," you say, narrowing your eyes, "Did your brother do something stupid?"

You'd had the courtesy of meeting Miya Atsumu during summer break. You were at Osamu's apartment, helping him cook the new recipe he'd thought of. Atsumu had burst into the apartment brashly, loud as ever, as another boy followed him. You looked over at them, offering a small smile as Osamu greeted them and introduced you. You found out that the kids from Inarizaki were very much like your friends. There was a chaotic side and a quieter side. You could easily guess who took up the seats on the chaotic side. During autumn, you'd ended up introducing Bokuto to Atsumu when you bumped into the setter at the mall. You were shopping for a scarf because somehow, Bokuto wanted to dress like Akaashi more. The two apparently knew each other from their volleyball program already so they hit it off as if they’ve been friends for ages. And then somewhere along the way, your friends became friends with Osamu's friends. 

"Actually yeah, he did," Osamu nods, putting his cup down as he groans, "He's had a girlfriend for about six months now. Yesterday when ma video-called us from Hyogo, Atsumu kept showin’ ‘er photos of him and his girlfriend. It was stupid of me to feel criticized, but I ended up blurting out that I had a partner too."

You choke on your drink, and when you stop coughing, you start laughing. Osamu's expression switches from a concerned one to an offended one in milliseconds, and that only makes you laugh more, "You're so stupid."

"No, my brother is stupid. I hate 'im with everything I have," he groans as he takes his head in his hands, "Why did I have to get all competitive?"

"It's kind of who you are when it comes to your brother," you giggle. Before you can continue, his phone rings. The shop is quiet today, there are only around seven or eight people here in total. And although Osamu didn't put his phone on speaker, you could still make out a few words the other person is saying. It's his mother—you pretended that you couldn't listen to what she was saying, even though you probably didn't need to. 

"Ya called me earlier than ya usually do, what'd you need?" he asks, his voice is gentle and it makes you smile that he keeps in touch with his parents so often. It was an adorable trait to have. His mom says something about Christmas dinner, and he mumbles that he'll be on time this time and that he fell asleep on the train last time and ended up getting off three stations late. You chuckle at that, taking another sip as you wait for his mother's next words. 

You're not entirely sure what she said, but you did hear the words "bring", "partner", and "home". You try to hide your gaze, pulling out your phone as you check the English assignment. The two of you had one last play to complete the report for, you'd already submitted every other one. You'd forgotten for a moment that Osamu was talking to his mom, and you called his name to ask him a question. 

Osamu says your name back. And then, his eyes widen. He places his other hand on his mouth. 

His mother's next words are clearly heard by you, "Is [Y/N] your partner? Can you please bring them home for Christmas?"

Shit, shit, shit, you widen your eyes. 

"Ma, hold on-"

But she keeps talking, "Osamu, I don't wanna hear it, alright? Bring 'em home. Atsumu's bringin' his girl home, and I wanna see how yer doin' for yerself."

You wish you hadn't heard that. Osamu panics, says okay, ends the call as quickly as he can, and looks at you with the most worrisome expression you have ever seen in your entire life. You sputter, "W-what?"

"I fucked up," he says, his voice quieter than usual. It's barely a whisper. 

"How?" you knew. But you still had to ask to make sure it was all real. He hides his face behind his hands, whispering again, "Oh, I fucked up."

"What did you do?"

"My ma heard me say yer name and now she thinks we're dating," he mumbles, "Wants me to bring ya home."

You blink. This was very real. You didn't think it through but it was so, so real. Your lips were slightly parted and before your brain could burst, you grabbed your mug and chugged it as if it was your last day on planet Earth.

(You shouldn’t be feeling glad though. Why were you happy? Why was your heart beating four time faster? You don’t even know if he feels the same way yet.)

The table becomes quiet for a few minutes. But then, Osamu breaks the silence, "Can I ask ya a favor?"

"Um, sure," you nod. You didn't know what he was going to ask. You were pretty sure it would be something bizarre, but you didn't want to question it until the time actually came. 

"Couldja come to meet my ma? I mean, it would be a one time thing. Please?" he asks. His eyes are big, brows raised and he almost seems desperate. How were you supposed to say no to this face?

"'Samu-"

"Nah, forget it. This was stupid to even ask of someone. ‘M sorry, I should probably go-”

“‘Samu,” you smile, grabbing his hand, “It’s okay, I’ll do it.”

“Wait- fuck, seriously?” he asks. He looks at you as if you just made the impossible happen. There’s a ghost of a smile on his lips, looking back at you in disbelief. 

You hum, "Mmhmm. Besides, it's only a one-time thing like you said. We'll manage."

"You're a lifesaver," he says breathily, "I dunno what I'd do without ya."

"You'd be embarrassed, that's what," you chuckle solemnly, "And also, you'd be bad at English."

He laughs—and God, is it melodic. You think about what it would be like if you were really his partner. Meeting his mother for Christmas sounds like something a real partner would do. If only you were confident enough to tell him how you really felt.

(You weren’t. So you’d have to stick to fake-dating instead.)

"Hey," he smiles at you. You wave back as you walk up to him. His breath fogs up as it comes out of his mouth, and you ask, "So we're gonna have lunch and dinner with your mom and then take the train back home?" 

"That's the plan," he nods, "Okay, sweetheart, c'mon. Let's go."

You laugh at the nickname. Even though there's assumably a very prominent blush coating your cheeks, you decide to blame it on the cold weather if he ever asks you about it. The train station is quite empty—you're sure most people are at home spending the holiday with their families like Osamu was about to in a few hours. And you were scared of this whole fake relationship thing. What if his mother somehow found out that all of this was a front because Osamu chose to remain single, unlike his brother? 

It sent chills down your spine. 

Once you sat on the train, Osamu says, "Alright let's practice."

"Ugh," you groan, "Not this again."

"What are we gonna say if she asks how we met?" he raises an eyebrow at you. You roll your eyes, taking his backpack and pulling out the bento from it as you answer, "We tell her the truth but we add some spice to it. Y'know, cheesy romantic things."

"Good," he nods, "And what if she asks how we began dating?"

You take a bite out of the first onigiri, humming at the taste as you reply, "Uh... You came to the bakery where I worked and asked me out on a date instead of giving me your order?"

"Good enough," he chuckles. And then his eyes stop at your lips. You blink a few times before asking, "What's wrong?"

He doesn't say anything for a second. He just continues staring at your lips. Osamu's hand then cups your chin, his thumb swiping against your lip. He then removes his hand from there as if nothing happened and says, "You had rice on your face."

Fuck, you panic. You’re blushing. Why did he have to make your heart race like that at the most random times? Why is he so dense about it, too? 

(And why can’t you ever eat an onigiri properly? Is the rice made of glue or something?)

Time passes by. The two of you arrive sooner than you'd expected. And you're standing outside Miya Osamu's childhood home in Hyogo when you suddenly feel sick to your stomach. This felt wrong and right at the same time. You wanted it to be real, but you felt like a liar. The bouquet you held in your hand felt hollow.

"You don't look too good," you hear Osamu say, "What's wrong?"

"Don't you think that maybe we shouldn't... lie to your mother?" you mumble, looking up. He nods, walking over to you. His eyes are sincere, and he gives you a small smile, "You're right. But I'd rather lie to her than disappoint her again this year."

You pause before breaking out a small laugh, "Screw you, that's kind of adorable."

"What can I say? ‘M a good son."

He then knocks on the front door and stands there with you. And just as he hears the turn of the knob, he intertwines his fingers with yours.

"’Samu?" his mother appears, hugging him tightly as soon as she sees him, "Oh, it's so good to see ya."

Her eyes land on you as she pulls away from him, and she gives you a warm smile before hugging you. You hand her the bouquet, and she hugs you again before pulling you inside. Osamu pouts, "Ya know yer my ma, right?"

"It's the first time you've brought someone home. Play nice, 'Samu."

His mother walks you inside after the two of you take your shoes off at the genkan. You sit in the living room, and his mom tells you to wait on the couch as she goes into the kitchen to fetch you something to drink. "Okay so," Osamu chuckles as he sits down next to you, "-ya can't back out now even if you wanted to. Ya haven't even talked to her properly and she loves ya more than me."

You laugh, cheeks turning a rosy pink. What his mother said struck something inside of you. Even if you weren't Osamu's partner, this was still the first time he'd brought someone home. You look away from his gaze, "Where's your brother?" 

"He'll probably be here in an hour or something," Osamu checks his phone, "He's near Kyoto right now, so he'll be here just before lunch."

You hum. His mother comes back into the room holding a tray with three glasses of water and some snacks before setting them up on the coffee table. She sits down next to you, and gushes as she asks, "Now dear, tell me how the two of you met." 

You share a glance with Osamu, and he gives you a small nod. You muster up the warmest grin you can, "I think it was the first week of this year. I was in the library, looking for this English book. And I'm reaching to grab it, but it's on the top shelf. 'Samu grabs it from next to me, and that's how we began talking."

"That sounds like a romance television show I've been watching recently," she squeals, "Absolutely adorable!"

You blush, "Thank you, Miya-san."

"You can consider me yer mother whenever yer comfortable, by the way. I blame ‘Samu for never bringing anyone home ta meet me. He's so picky with people, 'n he's closed off, too," she narrows her eyes at her son, who only hides by facepalming, "Again, you're supposed ta be my mother. Not [Y/N]'s."

"Oh, hush now."

Lunch passed quite smoothly. The only thing that didn't go according to plan was the fact that Atsumu had come alone. And that ticked your pretend boyfriend off more than it was supposed to.

(He kept grumbling about it under his breath. It was kind of cute, to be honest.)

You managed to get through the meal without a fight breaking out between them, except for a few snarky remarks here and there. Miya-san made sure they behaved throughout the afternoon, grabbing one of them by the ear whenever they said something remotely rude.

"Oh!" their mother exclaims, "I found somethin' when I was cleaning the other day, 'n I was saving it to show you three today."

She gets up from the kitchen table, walking over to a shelf near the corner of the room. Her eyes skim through the cookbooks there, and she picks one with a brown spine and brings it over to the table. Atsumu immediately groans when he sees the cover.

It's a family photo album.

(Your heart skips a beat, because now you really want to know what Osamu looked like as a child.)

You grin excitedly as she opens the first page. There's a photo of the twins as toddlers—wearing matching sweaters and playing with a red ball. You gush at how cute they are. When you look toward Osamu, you find him hiding his face in embarrassment. You giggle, flipping the page.

"This is when these two were six or seven, they got in an argument 'bout somethin' stupid 'n then came down for dinner. Stopped fightin' as soon as they sat down and saw that there was ramen and tuna," Mrs. Miya laughs slightly, pointing to the two boys smiling at the dinner table. A certain warmth spreads across your face as your fingers trace Osamu's face on the photo. He looks adorable, even without the signature grey hair. His eyes are closed in the photo, his smile reaching ear-to-ear as he holds his chopsticks. A small chuckle escapes your lips as his mother flips the page. They're in high school now, and it's one of their national matches where they're standing side by side. Atsumu's arm is over his brother's shoulder, and they're both smiling in victory.

"I'll mail this album to you if ya want," she says to you, "I have plenty others sitting in my room upstairs."

"That would be very nice," you give her a cordial smile.

It's around six o'clock in the evening when Osamu takes you upstairs to show you his childhood room. He opens the door, revealing a bunk bed and two desks—along with walls filled with posters of different kinds. There's a shelf with books on it on one side of the room, and the other side has a shelf filled with volleyball trophies and equipment. It smells like cheap deodorant and room freshener, and Osamu says, "Well, here it is."

"You were a Spice Girls fan?" you laugh, pointing to a poster on the wall. Osamu groans in disgust, "That's 'Tsumu's, he used ta think they were hot so he kept a poster of them in our room. Idiot never dated around in high school but he was a major simp."

You laugh. Your eyes land on a photo frame on the volleyball shelf. It's them and their father. It looks like the photo was taken after they won a game in high school, and he's hugging the two of them in joy. You beam at it, until Osamu speaks up, "That's my pops."

"I could tell," your voice is soft, barely above a whisper. He nods, "He passed away in my Senior year of high school."

Your eyes widen at the confession, "Osamu, I'm so sorry-"

"Nah," he shakes his head, "Don't worry 'bout it. 'Tsumu took it worse than me, anyway."

"That doesn't mean it hurt any less for you," you mumble, caressing his shoulder. He looks down at you, letting out a small breath as he smiles, "Thank you."

"You don't thank friends, dummy," you grin, wrapping your arms around him, "C'mere."

He hugs you back hesitantly at first, but as soon as you've completely wrapped yourself with him, he calms down. His breathing is shallow and deep at the same time and he wonders what he'd do without you. You've got his head spinning with how you speak to him. He doesn't know what hit him today.

“Y’know,” he says, pausing, “My old man taught me how ta cook fish properly. We went on a camping trip with ‘im once, and we went fishin’. I caught a big fish that day so he said he’d teach me how ta cook it on a grill. It’s one of my fondest memories of ‘im.”

“That’s touching,” you whisper against his chest, “And now you’re gonna open a restaurant and make him proud.”

“Ya think?”

“Yeah,” you say, “He would be proud of how far you’ve come. You’re kinda amazing, you know.”

He laughs, and it echoes through the room. It’s like the two of you are in your own personal bubble. The outside world doesn’t exist in here, and it gives off a bucolic feeling. 

You speak up again, "You don't have to tell me anything you don't feel comfortable with. But I'm always here, okay?"

"You start sayin' things like that and maybe we don't gotta lie to my ma about us anymore," he jokes, "Shit, sorry."

"No, it was funny," you nod, even though you wish he'd meant it. Damn him for saying things like that.

"Hey guys, Ma's callin' us down for dinner- crap, did I interrupt somethin'?" Atsumu stops by the door. You get startled, flinching away from Osamu as you face the door. You shake your head no, walking towards the stairs and leaving the twins behind. You can hear their chatter behind you—it's muffled and it sounds like Atsumu apologizing to his brother but then the two argue about something. Your eyes search for their mother, and you spot her setting the table. You shuffle towards her, letting out a small sigh.

"Somethin' wrong?" she asks softly. You shake your head as you help her place the silverware next to the plates. She continues, "'Samu likes ya very much, y'know."

You raise an eyebrow at the statement, gesturing for her to continue, "He calls me every other day. And half the time, the boy only talks about you. He's head over heels for ya, by the way. Don't tell ‘im I said that."

"Miya-san," you pause, "I don't think-"

"What are you two talkin' about?" Atsumu enters the room, Osamu following shortly after. He throws you a small smile, which you return. The two of you sit next to each other, the air suddenly filling up with tension.

“You feelin’ okay?” he whispers. You give him a reassuring smile in return, putting your hand over his as you nod.

Dinner goes by smoothly, and then the two of you head out after saying your goodbyes. It takes another four hours to get back to Tokyo—that you spend sleeping. When you wake up, you realize Osamu’s sleeping too. 

“Osamu,” you nudge him slightly, “Wake up, we’re gonna be home any minute now.”

And now, you’re in front of your apartment building as Osamu stands before you. He smiles, the moon breaking through his hair. It’s almost midnight, which means Christmas will be over in a few minutes. 

“Oh,” he exclaims, “Forgot ta give ya somethin’.”

He reaches into his bag, pulling out a small card as he begins saying, “Since we both want ta open a restaurant later on after college,” he pauses, licking his lips as he makes eye contact, “-why don’t we do it together?”

You gasp, looking at the card in his hands. There’s a small onigiri in the middle of it, and not much else, honestly. The card doesn’t even have a name on it. It’s just a small logo, and at the two bottom corners are your names. 

“’Samu,” you say, as quietly as you can, “That sounds wonderful.”

“I-I didn’t get a chance ta name it somethin’ because I wanted to ask yer opinion about it,” he chuckles, “What do ya think will be the name of our restaurant?”

You smile, thinking about today. Every single moment; from the train ride to Hyogo or when he told you about the death of his father. It all felt so special—so precious to you. Your eyes become glassy as you ponder about the question for a moment before you take a small breath, “Onigiri Miya.”

“W-what?” Osamu looks baffled when you look up at him again, “You want ta name it after me?”

“Yeah,” you nod, “I do.”

He doesn’t say much after that. He only stands there for a few seconds, processing the information before he wraps his arms around you. He thanks you, but you don’t know what he’s thanking you for. He breaks the embrace, and suddenly all the air around the two of you feels emollient. He smiles widely, and you take the chance to press a small peck on his cheek. 

“Merry Christmas, Osamu,” you whisper, “I’m sorry I couldn’t get you a gift in return.”

He laughs, “Trust me, the best gift ya could’ve given me is Onigiri Miya.”

And just then, you realize you love Miya Osamu way too much for your own good. 

"You have got to be kidding me," Kuroo yells, "One day you have a silly little high school crush on Miya Osamu, the next day you're lying to his mother about being his partner? What the actual fuck were you thinking?"

You were glad you hadn't told them about Onigiri Miya yet, because almost all of them(Kenma being the only exception) were asking you questions. Even Akaashi. 

"Hold on, how did this even happen?" Akaashi asks, placing a bookmark inside his book before closing it. You take a sip of your beer, "Uh, we were sitting at the coffee shop when his mom called him. She misunderstood something he said, and then one thing led to another."

"That- oh my god, you're an idiot," Kuroo exclaims, "That is not a valid answer for the question Akaashi asked."

"What do you mean?" you narrow your eyebrows. Kuroo facepalms, "Give us the details, you dummy."

"Oh," you mumble, "Honestly, there isn't much. We just went to his mom's house, then we ate lunch and dinner, we sat around and talked. And we came back."

"And you're sure nothing else happened?" Bokuto asks, his voice was annoyingly sweet. You sigh, giving in, "We're thinking about opening a restaurant together."

All four of them have their own colorful exclamations, and you're surprised that Kenma was even paying attention at all. They all range from "what the fuck were you thinking" to "wait, what". 

"How did this go from a romantic comedy to a Kitchen Nightmares episode?" Kuroo's hand rests on his temple as he asks the question. He pushes his glasses up, "And have you even told him about your dumb crush on him?"

"Wait," Bokuto interrupts, "Will we get free food if you open that restaurant together?"

"Bokuto-san," Akaashi articulates, with an eyebrow raised, "Can you be any less serious?"

"In my defense, it was a serious question."

"No, it wasn't."

"Was too!"

"Guys?" Kenma mumbles. You narrow your eyes in confusion at whatever's going on. 

"How are you always concerned about food? And why do you even want it for free? You're rich and you're getting drafted to the Jackals next year," Kuroo points out. 

"Guys!" Kenma yells, "Shut up and come look at this."

All three of them surround Kenma and his laptop by the couch, and you stand a few feet away as you ask, "What is it?"

"The whole university thinks you're dating Miya Osamu," Akaashi groans, "Some gossip account for our uni posted a picture of the two of you outside the train station."

"What?" you furrow your brows, rushing towards the laptop as you kneel down beside the couch to look at it, "But we're not dating! All of that was a lie to convince his mom."

"Yeah but," Kuroo sighs, "This looks pretty convincing to me. It'll probably be the same for everyone else that looks at it. You might wanna call Osamu."

"No," you shake your head firmly, "I'm gonna avoid talking to him."

"That is the most stupid thing you have come up with," Kenma rolls his eyes at you, "You should probably talk to him. And you have that project due in a few weeks."

You check your phone, and there are texts from a few classmates. And then there's a few from Osamu. You huff, "I should get going. It's getting late."

You haven't seen Miya Osamu in four days. 

Apparently, the person who took the photo outside the train station had been Suna Rintarō. He sent it to Atsumu, and that idiot sent it to everyone. And you being you, have been avoiding him. In the hallways, you tend to avoid his gaze. You even wake up fifteen minutes earlier in the morning so you don’t accidentally catch him at the coffee shop before class. Every time he looks like he’s going to approach you, you turn the other way. You don’t know what else you’re supposed to do, honestly. What if he finds out you really are in love with him and feels disgusted with the idea of it?

(Curse your mind for the paranoia, reallly.)

You're on your shift at the bakery when Osamu stumbles in. He looks at you with apologetic eyes, but you ignore his gaze as he walks up to the counter. You grit your teeth, swiping the screen in front of you as you ask, "Your order, please."

"I need ta talk to ya," his voice is hoarse, "Please."

You swallow with a bitter feeling, "Your order, Osamu."

"[Y/N]," he sounds out of breath, but you know he isn't. His eyes are exhausted yet hopeful, "It's important."

"I'm at work," you grit your teeth again, as if it's his fault, "I can't talk right now."

He straightens his posture then, nodding as he says, "Fine. I'll have a strawberry cheesecake slice to go, then. And an iced coffee too."

You type his order into the system, stealing a glance at him as you say, "Your order will be ready in a few minutes."

Osamu leaves as soon as you hand him his food, not even trying to meet your gaze. You feel bad, but you acquiesce to it. You might have to stop talking to him entirely. Or at least, that's what you kept telling yourself. It just seemed like the easiest option. 

You watch his small yellow car drive away, and you feel your eyes grow glassy. You deter your stare, focusing on the next customer instead. The next day, you don't see Osamu in the seat he's usually in. When you go to the library during recess, you don't see him there either. You end up at your usual seat at the coffee shop, but he's not there. 

(A bitter feeling sets in your throat but you try your best to ignore it anyway. This is what you wanted, right?)

Another four days pass. This time, even if you try to make eye contact with Miya Osamu in the hallways, he looks away. His eyes lack spirit, and he seems more tired. Usually, Osamu is just less enthusiastic than others. But now, he seems as if he hasn't been getting any sleep. Your lips straighten into a thin line as you sit in your usual booth at the café. Your phone rings out of nowhere, and you furrow your brows at the caller. 

Atsumu.

You pick it up, placing the phone to your ear as you sip on the iced coffee in front of you. His voice booms on the line, "Hey, [Y/N], where are ya?" 

"Um, at the coffee shop, why?" you question. He's panting, "Stay there, 'kay? 'M comin'."

"Wait, why—"

The line goes dead, and you roll your eyes. Putting the phone back down, you hazily keep sipping on your coffee. 

"[Y/N]?" you watch Atsumu walk into the café. Your eyes light up, hoping Osamu would walk in after him but to no avail. He sits in front of you, "Did 'Samu speak to ya yet?"

"I- um," you pause, "No. No, he hasn't. Why?"

"I just thought he would've by now. 'M sorry for all the twitter mess," he sheepishly places his hand on the back of his neck, "'Samu told me everything. I shouldn't've sent that photo ta my friends."

"It's okay, 'Tsumu," you croak, "But um, tell Osamu I'm sorry, 'kay?"

"Why can't ya tell 'im yerself?" he raises an eyebrow, "Did ya just decide to not talk to 'im 'cause some stupid college gossip account posted a picture of you two?" Atsumu narrows his eyes, "Yer friends, aren't ya?"

"Atsumu, it's not that simple-"

"Sometimes," he lingers, "It really is."

He continues talking, "Ya know, when 'Samu found out that I was the one that sent that photo to a bunch of my friends, he, came home real angry, started yellin' at me 'n shit. I asked 'im what was wrong 'n he said that you two weren't really datin'. Then he told me about how Ma misunderstood what he said on the phone and why he brought ya home. Idiot punched me a couple times too."

"Osamu punched you?" you stare, wide-eyed, "I don't believe that."

"My stomach is bruised. It hurts like hell," The blonde grumbles in front of you, "We haven't fought like that since high school. I hit him like once 'n he started slappin' my face so we called it off."

You laugh, eyes crinkling, "Let me guess, you started screaming like a girl and said 'not the face, 'Samu!'? Isn't that what always happens?" 

"Hey, I don't scream like a girl," he pouts, "But yes, that's what happened. 'Samu's been sad for days 'n that's why I called ya. I gotta sort out this mess I made for you two."

You sigh, "I-I don't know what to do."

"Leave it ta me," Atsumu gives you a mischievous grin, "I got this."

A few days pass, and your anxiety builds up more day by day. Atsumu had said he would do something to make Osamu talk to you again, but you hadn’t really received word of either of the twins after that. It was Friday now, and your lecture was finally ending.

"Okay everyone," your English professor turns off the presentation, "That's it for today's class. I need you all to score well on your finals, and remember that the end of the year project is due next week on friday. You can turn it in to me through a pen drive or mail it to me by 11:59 pm."

You get up from your chair, watching Osamu walk out without even sparing you a glance. A sigh escapes your lips as you head to the library for your lunch break. 

"Hey," you hear an all too familiar voice next to the library door. You turn around, and there he is. Miya Osamu, in all his glory, with his backpack slung across his shoulder as he walks towards you, "I wanted ta talk to ya."

"Oh," you mumble hazily, "Yeah. Yeah, I wanted to talk to you too."

"'Bout the project," he said, "-we should finish it, we only got a little bit left anyway. I reckon we'll be able to finish it now, it's not like we've any other classes left to attend today."

"Sure," you shrug, "I think we only have the conclusion part left for Merchant of Venice."

So here you were, sitting at your old library table working out the conclusion page of your essay as the younger Miya twin sat in front of you and analyzed his part of the work. Your eyes kept getting distracted from your work to him, though. The way his tongue ever-so-slightly peeped out of his mouth, the way his grey eyes concentrated on his laptop screen, the way he tiredly blinked every few seconds—you tell yourself to look away before it gets too weird. 

Then, you get a text. And another. They keep coming, and to the point where Osamu tilts his head and raises an eyebrow while he looks at your phone. You fumble, picking it up and checking who it was. 

Atsumu. 

You sigh, clicking on his contact and calling him. As soon as he picks up, you grit your teeth and whisper-yell, "Atsumu! I can't talk right now, I'm busy."

"Doin' what?" he asks in a condescending tone, "Quit what yer doin' n' come ta my dorm, I figured out how to get 'Samu ta talk to ya again."

"But-"

"Just c'mere, okay? Hold on, Sunarin's callin' I gotta go," the blond cuts the call immediately, and you scoff as you glare at his contact. Osamu eyes you before focusing on his screen again until you say, "I'm sorry, I have to go do this thing. But I'll be back soon, okay?"

"Alright," he responds in an almost nonchalant tone, but there's something about his voice that doesn't sit well with you. But you quickly pack your things and dust the uneasiness off your shoulder as you head to Atsumu's dorm room. 

"Why's the door open?" You raise an eyebrow as you walk inside. Atsumu smiles at you from his spot on the bed, before standing up and holding a finger up to your face, "Hold on for a minute."

"What?"

"Just. Shush."

You narrow your eyes, following his line of vision. He's staring at the doorway, slowly walking towards it until the other Miya twin is standing right in front of the two of you. 

"What are you doin' here?" Osamu asks in a  condescending tone. You tilt your head, matching your manner with his, "I don't know, why are you here?"

You blink profusely, throwing him a blunt look until the two of you hear the door close with a thud. Osamu groans, tossing his backpack on the bed before banging on the closed door with his fist, "'Tsumu, ya piece-a-shit, open this door right now!" 

"No," you can feel the smug look on the setter's face even through the closed door, "You two oughtta sort out yer problems or this door ain't openin'." 

"Atsumu, open the door!" you yell. 

"I said, door's not openin' until you figure yer shit out."

(So this was his plan. That clever asshole.)

Osamu sighs, rolling his eyes and looking back at you. You shrug, "He did say to sort out our problems. We could try that."

"Oh yeah?" Osamu looks at you with a look you don't comprehend at first, but then you quickly understand that he's agitated, "Let's start with the fact that ya ignored me as soon as ya came across the slightest inconvenience in yer life. How 'bout that?"

"I didn't ignore you!" you bite back, "I was confused! People were talking about us and I didn't like that!"

"What's so wrong about that?" he says whilst clenching his jaw. There are prominent lines between his eyebrows and he persists, "Some idiot posts somethin' on Twitter and that's all it takes for you to cut me off?"

"What about you then, huh?" you yell now, "It's not like you tried either! You knew I was scared and you stopped fighting completely!"

"I-I didn't stop, I just thought I was bein' a hindrace to you! If I had stopped, I wouldn’t’ve come to yer stupid bakery ta talk!” 

"W-well, what about all the avoiding me in the halls and changing your seat in class so you won't have to look at me, then? What was that?" you ask, temper not completely dissipating just yet, "Do you even know how lonely and scared I was without you?"

"I never would've stopped bein' around you if I didn't think you hated me!" his eyes are wide and his voice begins cracking just slightly, "If you picked up even just one call, I would still be there! You could've at least replied to the texts!" 

"I didn't reply to any of your stupid texts because I'm in love with you and I got scared that you didn't feel the same way!" you scream eyes shut and anger sputtering through your veins. The room becomes chillingly silent, and you can feel goosebumps on the back of your neck as you slowly open your eyes. Miya Osamu stands there, baffled and eyes widened, his chest rising and falling with each breath he takes. His grey eyes stare into your own, softening as his shoulders droop. He takes a small step toward you, tilting his head to ask if entering your space is okay. You nod in the slightest way possible, and within a blink, he stands mere inches away.

He says your name in a hushed tone, and you look down at his clothed chest in embarrassment. Your eyes become glassy, and you feel panic coursing through your body when he sighs and tilts your chin up with his thumb in the most tender way possible. Your eyes meet with his again, and you curse him for not saying anything. 

(This is not how you wanted this to go. Damn it.)

"Please tell me that was all true," he murmurs, "I need ta hear ya say it again."

"Osamu, don't make me embarrass myself. Please, just," you meekly attempt to look away again, but this time he cups your cheeks and presses his lips to yours. Tears finally emerge from your eyes as your hands reach his hair. The kiss is soft; fragile even, but you're trying to hold your own when your heart feels like a frog kicking off a pond's bank. You were trying to pay attention and calm your leaping heart down, but it wasn't working. Osamu's lips moved like magic—the way they did in movies when the guy finally kisses the girl and fireworks start setting off in the background. Only this time, the fireworks were getting set off in your heart, and you had no idea how to stop them. 

He pulls away gently, your foreheads touching.  You open your eyes to his voice saying, "Just makin' sure, because I love ya too."

You melt, smiling awkwardly. You're about to say something when the door opens, and Atsumu stands there with his shit-eating grin, "Okay now that yer done stinkin' up the place with yer gross lovey-dovey crap, aren't you two glad ya proved the rumors right?"

"Oh shut up, 'Tsumu."

The sounds of a quietened New Years' party are ringing in your ears as you clean up a few beer bottles and put them in the trash. The entirety of the MSBY team sits in Onigiri Miya along with your friends—their voices are a little tired and tranquil now that it's around two in the morning, the party long forgotten. Osamu walks out from the refrigerating unit, giving you a weary smile, "Hey."

"Hey," you smile. He walks toward you, closing the distance as he wraps his arms around your torso, pressing a peck on the top of your head. He sighs, "I wanna go to bed."

"I know," you laugh, "We'll walk home in a bit after everyone leaves, okay?"

He hums, "Oh, by the way, Ma called. She said the coffee powder ya gave her was amazin' and asked ya to buy 'er some more the next time we visit."

"I'm glad," you smile, pulling away from the embrace. You brush your hair away from your eyes, looking up to him and cupping his cheeks, "This last year has been quite unreal, huh?"

"By unreal if ya mean the fact that we finally moved in together, yes. That, and the JVA contract," he giggles, "I still can't believe 'Tsumu convinced them to make us the caterers for their events. Kuroo-san said Akaashi forced 'im too."

"'Samu," you whisper. He hums again, and you continue, "I love you."

He chuckles, giving you the most exhausted yet the most loving look he can possibly muster up, "I love ya more. Now come on, let's go kick 'Tsumu out so we can get some sleep."

“Oh, give him some credit. If it weren’t for him, we wouldn’t be-”

“I know, I know. Don’t say it out loud though, ‘cause it’ll only inflate his ego.”

© all works belong to admiringlove on tumblr. plagiarism is strictly prohibited.

#miya osamu #osamu miya #miya osamu x reader #miya osamu x you #osamu miya x reader #osamu miya x you #osamu miya fanfiction #miya osamu fanfiction #miya osamu angst #osamu miya angst #osamu miya fluff #miya osamu fluff #haikyuu!! x reader #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu angst #haikyuu fluff #haikyuu headcanons #haikyuu hurt comfort #haikyuu fanfiction #haikyuu longfic #haikyuu longfics

[nroibdodyl3e1r]

Hi ! here is the first chapter of my fiction. I just finished it so maybe I'll edit it later.

Olive's babysitter

Notes: I aged Dwayne because in the movie he's 15 and I didn't feel comfortable writing about him at that age, so I gave him 18 (he's a senior in high school.) Also, this is my very first time writing. Don't hesitate to tell me what I can improve, and give me your opinion and ideas! I hope that you will like it! English is not my first language, I do my best to correct myself but there may still be some mistakes.

Chapter 1 a strange day

You have been babysitting Olive for 3 months now. You pick her up from school, take her home, help her with her homework and of course, you help her practice. Recently you even stay for dinner.

Sheryl is happy to be able to rely on you. Grandpa often offers you to smoke a joint with him and gives you questionable advice about men. Richard talks about his 9 steps all the time and you have acquired the very useful skill of pausing your brain to not listen to him but still knowing when to nod your head to give the impression that you are listening. Olive sees you as the best big sister in the world. You don't know what Dwayne thinks of you, the fact that you've never heard him speak and the fact that he's very explicit about how much he hates everyone doesn't help.

-----------

"Oh shit I'm going to be late!" was the first thing you said this morning. Putting on your t-shirt and sneakers at the same time, you storm out of your room, grab your bag, and leave your house.

By some miracle, you arrive just in time for your first class of the day. You look around when you get to your classroom and see Dwayne sitting in the same place as always; in the back by the window. You smile slightly at him as if to say hi and sit down where there is still a seat. Dwayne has a few classes in common with you but your schedules don't match up at all. You made yours so that you would finish early enough to pick up Olive from school every day.

High school is not really your thing. The day went well and thank god no one came to talk to you. It's not that they are bad but your social anxiety keeps you alone most of the time. You do have a few friends but you're not very close to them, and it doesn't bother you that much.

As soon as you arrive at the elementary school Olive comes to you with a big smile. 

"Y/n!"

"How are you, your majesty?"

"I'm doing great!" she replies with an even bigger smile than before.

You grab her backpack and head back to the Hoovers' house together.When you arrive only Grandpa is there, he is taking a nap on the sofa with his mouth wide open and his arms crossed over his belly. You take a waffle out of the freezer and put it in the toaster while Olive puts her bag in her room. Then she comes to the table and tells you everythings about her day while eating. After a while Richard arrives, tossing his keys on the kitchen cabinet.

"Hello y/n. How are you?"

"Fine and you?"

"Great, I had a lot of people at my conference today."

Suddenly Grandpa wakes up.

"How much did you have to pay them to listen to you talk for so long?"

"Hello, dad." replies Richard losing all his good mood.

You look away quite amused.

After finishing her waffle Olive goes out into the garden with Edwin to repeat her choreography. So it's time to start your homework, you're still working on an essay for your English class. After 20 minutes of trying to write the same paragraph, you throw yourself back in your chair and let out the biggest sigh possible. Dwayne arrives at that moment. You sit up suddenly, a little nervous. He goes straight to his room as always.

You remember the first few weeks you were babysitting Olive how your heart would jump in your chest when he came home. That's when you realized you had a crush on him. Although you still didn't understand why. He acted like you didn't exist, but that's changed now, he would pass you the bottle of Sprite at the table when you asked, and once he even let you into his room to lend you his history textbook. You felt more comfortable around him even though you were still nervous. 

After a little while, he comes out of his room and comes to you. He hands you his notebook where it says "Want need with your essay?". Surprised, you look at his face and he is completely inexpressive. This is the first time he has offered to help you. Slightly shocked you just say a brief "yes". With a sign of the head, he tells you to follow him into his room. You stand up quickly, grab your notebook and follow him with your eyes wide open. Are you dreaming? That's so unusual coming from him.

Without a sound, he sits down at his desk, takes your notebook, and starts reading and making notes on it. You hesitantly sit down next to him on his bed and remain completely silent. After a while he gives you back your notebook, he had corrected some sentences and written some things that you had to add.

"Thank you, Dwayne, that's really nice. I- I don't know how to return the favor."

He scribbles something in his notebook "Don't hesitate if you need help".

"T-thanks." You were completely shocked, this is the first time you'd ever seen Dwayne be so nice to someone.

Dinner is ready!" shouts Sheryl.

"y/n, honey how are you?"

"Fine thanks” You finish setting the table with her and the whole family arrives.

You sit in front of Dwayne, staring blankly at your plate without saying a word, still in shock at what has just happened. You are snapped out of your thoughts by Edwin.

"What about you, Y/n? How are the boys doing in high school? There must be a lot of them after you?”

You laugh nervously and answer in a semi-serious tone "Actually no".

"WHAT!?" shouts Edwin "I don't understand young people these days."

You laugh nervously one last time. Your gaze turns again to your plate and you cast a discreet glance at Dwayne without him seeing you. His face has a strange expression that you can't define. You finish clearing the table, hug Olive, and tells her "good night Olive. See you tomorrow" with a sweet smile. You greet the rest of the family and look at Dwayne for a second, you gather what little courage you have left for the day and throw him a big, sincere smile.

And that’s the end of this long and strange day. You go home, still in shock. That night you struggled to fall asleep, dissecting every second you spent with Dwayne to try to understand his behavior. Finally, you fall asleep with even more questions than before.

#paul dano x reader #paul dano #danonation #little miss sunshine #lms #dwayne hoover x reader #dwayne hoover #dwayne x reader

[omgkalyppso]

@sevarix-blogs tagged me for sharing some of a WIP ... and I'd said I'd share for someone else leaving an open tag for the Last Line of a WIP a few days ago and forgot. My WIPs are all a mess. Some are just dialogue, some are cut up scenes that still need to be reorganized. Still, I'll share from three WIPs here for fun.

I'll tag @boghermit, @bosspigeon, @lemonbronze, @bladesandstars and YOU.

Still working on the Astarion ate a bear conversation WIP:

Astarion had been hunting for some time, and he returned with the most graceless approach, tripping over a cauldron at Lae’zel’s tent with his arms stretched wide as if he’d been meaning to keep track of his steps. “Stay out of my things, darkling!” Lae’zel shouted, interrupting her conversation where Astarion might have otherwise been ignored. “With pleasure, gith,” Astarion said, laying one hand on his unbeating heart and stretching the other out overhead. “Alright, Astarion?” asked Shadowheart, eyebrows raised. “All the better,” Astarion’s words danced with the cadence of an elf who was far further into his cups than either Étoile or Shadowheart, “that you’re concerned for me, my sweet.” Shadowheart made a noise that was somewhere between a laugh and a groan as she objected. “Don’t misunderstand. I’m only worried that you’d return from your hunt with some contagion. These caves are riddled with stagnation and rot.” “Just like home,” Astarion exaggerated, arms spread wide again, hands flicked skyward. He quickly followed it up with a laugh that had the teensiest hiccough in it, lending to his inebriated air.

I started working on a WIP of Wyll writing poetry with Gale's encouragement for the prompt Modern AU for wyllweek but I psyched myself out so it is also still a WIP. Background Gale x my dragonborn Upton:

Wyll: [stating the obvious as Gale has a pen and notepad] Working on something? Gale: Mm. Well, just another gift for the dragon of my heart, as it were. There's few enough rhymes for bronze that I definitely need to pick up a pen when inspiration strikes. Wyll: How do you decide which gifts are worth giving? Gale: Now there's a telling anxiety if I ever heard one. If there's a possibility your audience is going to be disrespectful of the efforts you make, and your heart on your sleeve, Wyll Ravengard, then they don't deserve you. That said, poetry is as much about the audience and the medium as it is about the quality. I know that whatever I scribble down … Upton appreciates that I was thinking of them. The rest is imagined, I suppose I could talk to them about it — how I consider each syllable, and each revolving turn of phrase, with the hope that I can bring them new joy, that the maze around my heart, no more navigable by my manner of elocution, might be more manageable to them. They are celebrations of our bond, their love, their beauty, but they are also pleas of affection, calls to understanding, expressions of vulnerability. And those are harder to share when you put more of yourself in your writing, or when you can't trust those emotions to be well received — even when they are, the way people can misread intent or metaphor, or latch onto some throwaway sentiment you thought to include — it's hard, to write and to share, not even considering the technicalities and imagination of the hobby. Do you keep a journal? Wyll: No. I read and I can recite some poetry, but … I didn't— I didn't keep a journal while I was backpacking, though maybe I should have. I— I'm not thinking of writing for love, or to share with anyone. Maybe someday, but … The world has such vibrancy in it. I'm not a bard, but I'd think I prefer it through a poet's lens sometimes. Gale: As one should. There's a dreamer in all of us, and poetry has connected people to history, to culture, to themselves and to each other — since time immemorial. You needn't worry about sharing it with anyone, but those connections are always open to you. And it may be a tad hypocritical, having never shared my own work, but I'd love to read your poetry, if you're in need of an audience. Wyll: No, no, no. You don't get out of showing me yours by asking for mine. Not when you have the advantage of experience— Gale: Oooo. That may be the politest way I've been called old, but it still stings [holding his heart] right here. Upton: [sitting on the arm of Gale's chair] Wyll called you old? Gale: [standing so Upton can take up most of the chair's real estate] He said I had the benefit— Wyll: Advantage. Gale: [sitting in Upton's lap] The advantage of experience. Wyll: [in his own defense] In regards to poetry. Upton: [delighted, leaning around Gale so he almost falls over] Are you going to write inexperienced poetry, Wyll?

And I'll share a very little bit of my The Pale Elf vs Cazador fight rewrite WIP:

Astarion: You don't love anything. Cazador: Do you not know the meaning of the word sacrifice? One eats an apple and thinks nothing of it, a fruit made to be consumed. But what of eating a friend, a lover, a son. You were made to be sacrificed, but my love was no less true for my role in your extermination. Astarion: Fuck you. And fuck everything you ever did to me. Cazador: You are my spawn, you are my family, and you came home like a good little apple when it was time for harvest.

While it might just be bad and cheesy I like the idea of Cazador likening Astarion to being worth more to him than nothing only to immediately refute that in the next sentence from his mouth. He should have been a man of twisted love and contradictions imo, not blindly evil.

#baldur's gate 3 spoilers #astarion #long post