NO THWY FUCKING DIDNT

NO THWY FUCKING DIDNT

IM NOT SHUTTING UP ABOUT THIS EP TODAY

I AM GOING TO HE CM

nahoya…NAHOYA.

i love the people of this app i swear to god

UM YES

me trying to explain the things i want to do to this men

CHAPTER 71: SAME OLD SAME OLD

"This ain't no kiddie playground.

Somebody here ratted us out! "

[chapter 73: a crybaby]

Can I just say the fic where baji ran the reader over was hilarious 😂

thank you 🥰 pls accept this preface to the library 😆

also i’m working on the requests ok i’m just dragging my feet

i got you, girl

tr ; baji keisuke ; w775 ; s4w

summary : before sharing a table in the library, keisuke hits you with his bike in the way to class

prompt is the ask . filling college au prompts thru september

warnings : college au ; modern au ; cursing ; meet-cute ; awful flirting ; some insults

You continue to run across campus, feeling particularly crazy as you dodge fellow students left and right. Why your roommate had chosen today, of all days, to lock her keys in your dorm, you’ll never know. But, you suspect it has something to do with karma or Murphy’s Law or whatever and you really aren’t sure who the victim is here but as your legs start to burn you start to feel as though it just might be you.

On a good day, the walk back from your morning class to your dorm is 15 minutes. You usually get there about 5 minutes after she’s left for her first class of the day if she’s running late. And, with a paper due first thing, you don’t imagine she’d budgeted for locking her keys and the assignment in the room.

What cruel professor still requires hard copies, you never want to know.

Jumping down a few steps, you grin to yourself, feeling particularly cool about sticking the landing, but it’s short lived-

“Excuse me, sorry, sorry!” You announce, busting through a gaggle of students once you realize the crosswalk you need to use has it’s walk light on. “Thank you!”

You’ve nearly cleared the campus when suddenly you’re getting knocked down. You squeak out a sound of surprise, bracing yourself as you fall to the ground.

“Holy shit,” you hear someone say, bike skidding to a stop next to you.

You scowl up at them, squinting against the sunlight to see a long haired boy looking down at you. His face is a bit flushed, grey eyes bright with sick amusement, and you can’t help but feel like he looks incredibly misplaced. Not just because he’s officially on your shit list, but also because of his dress: old chelsea boots and fitted jeans with a tshirt that has Tokyo Manji-Kai in kanji over the left breast.

It’s all black, which wouldn’t be an issue if it weren’t barely 9am. And if he didn’t look like some reject biker gang delinquent.

“Did you steal something?”

“Excuse me?” You bite out, looking down at your hands to see the ground imprinted on your palms. “You knock me down, and insinuate that I’m in the wrong?”

“Insinuate? That’s a good word,” he says, and you stare at him as he watches you wipe your hands on your jeans. “Why else would you be running like that?”

Glancing to the intersection, you see that you’ve missed the light and curse under your breath. He offers you a hand when you look back at him, laughing when you frown at it.

“Come on, I don’t bite,” he grins, purposely flashing his sharp teeth at you.

You nearly jerk your hand away, but his strong hand clasps yours and he pulls you up as if it’s nothing.

“I’d be pretty cool if you did,” he tells you. “Steal something, I mean.”

“Aren’t you going to apologize?”

“You ran into my way,” he taunts, following slowly on his bike as you decide to walk away.

“Pedestrians have the right of way,” you hiss when you realize he isn’t going to leave you alone.

“You know, it’s not everyday I knock a girl off her feet.”

“You’ve run someone over before, then?” You ask boredly, glancing at your phone screen as you wait at the crosswalk.

“Ouch,” he deadpans, smirking when you side eye him. “Do you want to get breakfast?”

“Don’t you have a class or something to get to?” You ask, looking at the tube case strapped to his back. It could be a weapon, given his generally being misplaced, but his shoes -despite being old- look a little too expensive. Fucking engineers, you decide.

“Shit, yeah,” he says, hoping back on his bike. “Listen, I owe you, okay? Next time I see you- I got you, girl.”

You watch him ride away, blinking when he looks over his shoulder and flashes a fanged smile at you. It causes you to roll your eyes, rubbing at your elbow as you look back at the crosswalk to see the light changing.

It spurs you to break into another run, remembering that nearly half of your dorm mate’s grade relies on it. The burning in your limbs is made worse by bike-boy, both him knocking you down and causing you to stop just as you were getting warmed up.

You curse him as you fight through your hip and elbow aching, vowing to ruin his day if you ever see him again.

I got you, girl, you snort, pulling your keys from your pocket and waving the fob in front of the reader. Yeah, right.