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caelum-in-the-avatarverse · 2 days

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Fandom can do a little gatekeeping. As a treat.

So I finally decided to archive-lock my fics on AO3 last night. I’ve been considering it since the AI scrape last year, but the tipping point was this whole lore.fm debacle, coupled with some thoughts I’ve been thinking regarding Fandom These Days in general and Fandom As A Community in particular. So I wanna explain why I waited so long, why I locked my stuff up now, and why I’ve come to the conclusion that I’m a-okay with making it harder for people to see my stories.

Lurkers really are great, tho

I’m a chronic lurker, and have been since I started hanging out on the internet as a teen in the 00s. These days it’s just cuz I don’t feel a need to socialize very often, but back then it was because I was shy and knew I was socially awkward. Even if I made an account, I’d spend months lurking on message boards or forums or Livejournals, watching other people interact and getting a feel for that particular community’s culture and etiquette before I finally started interacting myself. And y’know, that approach saved me a lot of embarrassment. Over the course of my lurking on any site, there was always some other person who’d clearly joined up five minutes after learning the place existed, barged in without a care for their behavior, and committed so many social faux pas that all the other users were immediately annoyed with them at best. I learned a lot observing those incidents. Lurk More is Rule 33 of the internet for very good reason.

Lurking isn’t bad or weird or creepy. It’s perfectly normal. I love lurking. It’s hard for me to not lurk - socializing takes a lot of energy out of me, even via text. (Heck it took 12 hours for me to write this post, I wish I was kidding--) Occasionally I’ll manage longer bouts of interaction - a few weeks posting here, almost a year chatting in a discord there - but I’m always gonna end up going radio silent for months at some point. I used to feel bad about it, but I’ve long since made peace with the fact that it’s just the way my brain works. I’m a chronic lurker, and in the long term nothing is going to change that.

The thing with being a chronic lurker is that you have to accept that you are not actually seen as part of the community you are lurking in. That’s not to say that lurkers are unimportant - lurkers actually are important, and they make up a large proportion of any online community - but it’s simple cause and effect. You may think of it as “your community”, but if you’ve never said a word, how is the community supposed to know you exist? If I lurked on someone’s LJ, and then that person suddenly friendslocked their blog, I knew that I had two choices: Either accept that I would never be able to read their posts again, or reach out to them and ask if I could be added to their friends list with the full understanding that I was a rando they might not decide to trust. I usually went with the first option, because my invisibility as a lurker was more important to me than talking to strangers on the internet.

Lurking is like sitting on a park bench, quietly people-watching and eavesdropping on the conversations other people are having around you. You’re in the park, but you’re not actively participating in anything happening there. You can see and hear things that you become very interested in! But if you don’t introduce yourself and become part of the conversation, you won’t be able to keep listening to it when those people walk away. When fandom migrated away from Livejournal, people moved to new platforms alongside their friends, but lurkers were often left behind. No one knew they existed, so they weren’t told where everyone else was going. To be seen as part of a fandom community, you need to submit to the mortifying ordeal of being known, etc. etc.

There’s nothing wrong with lurking. There can actually be benefits to lurking, both for the lurkers and the communities they lurk in. It’s just another way to be in a fandom. But if that is how you exist in fandom--and remember, I say this as someone who often does exist that way in fandom--you need to remember that you’re on the outside looking in, and the curtains can always close.

I’ve always been super sympathetic to lurkers, because I am one. I know there’s a lot of people like me who just don’t socialize often. I know there’s plenty of reasons why someone might not make an account on the internet - maybe they’re nervous, maybe they’re young and their parents don’t allow them to, maybe they’re in a bad situation where someone is monitoring their activity, maybe they can only access the internet from public computer terminals. Heck, I’ve never even logged into AO3 on my phone--if I’m away from my computer I just read what’s publicly available.

I know I have people lurking on my fics. I know my fics probably mean a lot to someone I don’t even know exists. I know this because there are plenty of fics I love whose writers don’t know I exist.

I love my commenters personally; I love my lurkers as an abstract concept. I know they’re there and I wish them well, and if they ever de-lurk I love them all the more.

So up until last year I never considered archive-locking my fic, because I get it. The AI scraping was upsetting, but I still hesitated because I was thinking of lurkers and guests and remembering what it felt like to be 15 and wondering if it’d be worth letting a stranger on the internet know I existed and asking to be added to their friends list just so I could reread a funny post they made once.

But the internet has changed a lot since the 00s, and fandom has changed with it. I’ve read some things and been doing some thinking about fandom-as-community over the last few years, and reading through the lore.fm drama made me decide that it’s time for me to set some boundaries.

I still love my lurkers, and I feel bad about leaving any guest commenters behind, especially if they’re in a situation where they can’t make an account for some reason. But from here on out, even my lurkers are going to have to do the bare minimum to read my fics--make an AO3 account.

Should we gatekeep fandom?

I’ve seen a few people ask this question, usually rhetorically, sometimes as a joke, always with a bit of seriousness. And I think…yeah, maybe we should. Except wait, no, not like that--

A decade ago, when people talked about fandom gatekeeping and why it was bad to do, it intersected with a lot of other things, mainly feminism and classism. The prevalent image of fandom gatekeeping was, like, a man learning that a woman likes Star Wars and haughtily demanding, “Oh, yeah? Well if you’re REALLY a fan, name ten EU novels” to belittle and dismiss her, expecting that a “real fan” would have the money and time to be familiar with the EU, and ignoring the fact that male movie-only fans were still considered fans. The thing being gatekept was the very definition of “being a fan” and people’s right to describe themselves as one.

That’s not what I mean when I say maybe fandom should gatekeep more. Anyone can call themselves a fan if they like something, that’s fine. But when it comes to the ability to enjoy the fanworks produced by the fandom community…that might be something worth gatekeeping.

See, back in the 00s, it was perfectly common for people to just…not go on the internet. Surfing the web was a thing, but it was just, like, a fun pastime. Not everyone did it. It wasn’t until the rise of social media that going online became a thing everyone and their grandmother did every day. Back then, going on the internet was just…a hobby.

So one of the first gates online fandom ever had was the simple fact that the entire world wasn’t here yet.

The entire world is here now. That gate has been demolished.

And it’s a lot easier to find us now. Even scattered across platforms, fandom is so centralized these days. It isn’t a network of dedicated webshrines and forums that you can only find via webrings anymore, it’s right there on all the big social media sites. AO3 didn’t set out to be the main fanfic website, but that’s definitely what it’s become. It’s easy for people to find us--and that includes people who don’t care about the community, and just want “content.”

Transformative fandom doesn’t like it when people see our fanworks as “content”. “Content” is a pretty broad term, but when fandom uses it we’re usually referring to creative works that are churned out by content creators to be consumed by an audience as quickly as possible as often as possible so that the content creator can generate revenue. This not-so-new normal has caused a massive shift in how people who are new to fandom view fanworks--instead of seeing fic or art as something a fellow fan made and shared with you, they see fanworks as products to be consumed.

Transformative fandom has, in general, always been a gift economy. We put time and effort into creating fanworks that we share with our fellow fans for free. We do this so we don’t get sued, but fandom as a whole actually gets a lot out of the gift economy. Offer your community a story, and in return you can get comments, build friendships, or inspire other people to write things that you might want to read. Readers are given the gift of free stories to read and enjoy, and while lurking is fine, they have the choice to engage with the writer and other readers by leaving comments or making reclists to help build the community.

And look, don’t get me wrong. People have never engaged with fanfic as much as fan writers wish they would. There has always been “no one comments anymore” wank. There have always been people who only comment to say “MORE!” or otherwise demand or guilt trip writers into posting the next chapter. But fandom has always agreed that those commenters are rude and annoying, and as those commenters navigate fandom they have the chance to learn proper community etiquette.

However, now it seems that a lot of the people who are consuming fanworks aren’t actually in the community.

I won’t say “they aren’t real fans” because that’s silly; there’s lots of ways to be a fan. But there seem to be a lot of fans now who have no interest in fandom as a community, or in adhering to community etiquette, or in respecting the gift economy. They consume our fics, but they don’t appreciate fan labor. They want our “content”, but they don’t respect our control over our creations.

And even worse--they see us as a resource. We share our work for free, as a gift, but all they see is an open-source content farm waiting to be tapped into. We shared it for free, so clearly they can do whatever they want with it. Why should we care if they feed our work into AI training datasets, or copy/paste our unfinished stories into ChatGPT to get an ending, or charge people for an unnecessary third-party AO3 app, or sell fanbindings on etsy for a profit without the author’s permission, or turn our stories into poor imitations of podfics to be posted on other platforms without giving us credit or asking our consent, while also using it to lure in people they can datascrape for their Forbes 30 Under 30 company?

And sure, people have been doing shady things with other people’s fanworks since forever. Art theft and reposting has always been a big problem. Fanfic is harder to flat-out repost, but I’ve heard of unauthorized fic translations getting posted without crediting the original author. Once in…I think the 2010s? I read a post by a woman who had gone to some sort of local bookselling event, only to find that the man selling “his” novel had actually self-published her fanfic. (Wish I could find that one again, I don’t even remember where I read it.)

But aside from that third example, the thing is…as awful as fanart/writing theft is, back in the day, the main thing a thief would gain from it was clout. Clout that should rightfully go to the creators who gifted their work in the first place, yeah, but still. Just clout. People will do a lot of hurtful things for clout, but fandom clout means nothing outside of fandom. Fandom clout is not enough to incentivize the sort of wide-scale pillaging we’re seeing from community outsiders today.

Money, on the other hand… Well, fandom’s just a giant, untapped content farm, isn’t it? Think of how much revenue all that content could generate.

Lurkers are a normal and even beneficial part of any online community. Maybe one day they’ll de-lurk and easily slide into place beside their fellow fans because they already know the etiquette. Maybe they’re active in another community, and they can spread information from the community they lurk in to the community they’re active in. At the very least, they silently observe, and even if they’re not active community members, they understand the community.

Fans who see fanworks as “content” don’t belong in the same category as lurkers. They’re tourists.

While reading through the initial Reddit thread on the lore.fm situation, I found this comment:

[ID: Reddit User Cabbitowo says: ... So in anime fandoms we have a word called tourist and essentially it means a fan of a few anime and doesn't care about anime tropes and actively criticizes them. This is kind of how fandoms on tiktok feel. They're touring fanfics and fanart and actively criticizes tropes that have been in the fandom since the 60s. They want to be in a fandom but they don't want to engage in fandom

OP totallymandy responds: Just entered back into Reddit after a long day to see this most recent reply. And as a fellow anime fan this making me laugh so much since it’s true! But it sorta hurts too when the reality sets in. Modern fandom is so entitled and bratty and you’d think it’s the minors only but that’s not even true, my age-mates and older seem to be like that. They want to eat their cake and complain all whilst bringing nothing to the potluck… :/ END ID]

“Tourist” is an apt name for this sort of fan. They don’t want to be part of our community, and they don’t have to be in order to come into our spaces and consume our work. Even if they don’t steal our work themselves, they feel so entitled to it that they’re fine with ignoring our wishes and letting other people take it to make AI “podfics” for them to listen to (there are a lot of comments on lore.fm’s shutdown announcement video from people telling them to just ignore the writers and do it anyway). They’ll use AI to generate an ending to an unfinished fic because they don’t care about seeing “the ending this writer would have given to the story they were telling”, they just want “an ending”. For these tourist fans, the ends justify the means, and their end goal is content for them to consume, with no care for the community that created it for them in the first place.

I don’t think this is confined to a specific age group. This isn’t “13-year-olds on Wattpad” or “Zoomers on TikTok” or whatever pointless generation war we’re in now. This is coming from people who are new to fandom, whose main experience with creative works on the internet is this new content culture and who don’t understand fandom as a community. That description can be true of someone from any age group.

It’s so easy to find fandom these days. It is, in fact, too easy. Newcomers face no hurdles or challenges that would encourage them to lurk and observe a bit before engaging, and it’s easy for people who would otherwise move on and leave us alone to start making trouble. From tourist fans to content entrepreneurs to random people who just want to gawk, it’s so easy for people who don’t care about the fandom community to reap all of its fruits.

So when I say maybe fandom should start gatekeeping a bit, I’m referring to the fact that we barely even have a gate anymore. Everyone is on the internet now; the entire world can find us, and they don’t need to bother learning community etiquette when they do. Before, we were protected by the fact that fandom was considered weird and most people didn’t look at it twice. Now, fandom is pretty mainstream. People who never would’ve bothered with it before are now comfortable strolling in like they own the place. They have no regard for the fandom community, they don’t understand it, and they don’t want to. They want to treat it just like the rest of the content they consume online.

And then they’re surprised when those of us who understand fandom culture get upset. Fanworks have existed far longer than the algorithmic internet’s content. Fanworks existed long before the internet. We’ve lived like this for ages and we like it.

So if someone can’t be bothered to respect fandom as a community, I don’t see why I should give them easy access to my fics.

Think of it like a garden gate

When I interact with commenters on my fic, I have this sense of hospitality.

The comment section is my front porch. The fic is my garden. I created my garden because I really wanted to, and I’m proud of it, and I’m happy to share it with other people.

Lots of people enjoy looking at my garden. Many walk through without saying anything. Some stop to leave kudos. Some recommend my garden to their friends. And some people take the time to stop by my front porch and let me know what a beautiful garden it is and how much they’ve enjoyed it.

Any fic writer can tell you that getting comments is an incredible feeling. I always try to answer all my comments. I don’t always manage it, but my fics’ comment sections are the one place that I manage to consistently socialize in fandom. When I respond to a comment, it feels like I’m pouring out a glass of lemonade to share with this lovely commenter on my front porch, a thank you for their thank you. We take a moment to admire my garden together, and then I see them out. The next time they drop by, I recognize them and am happy to pour another glass of lemonade.

My garden has always been open and easy to access. No fences, no walls. You just have to know where to find it. Fandom in general was once protected by its own obscurity, an out-of-the-way town that showed up on maps but was usually ignored.

But now there’s a highway that makes it easy to get to, and we have all these out-of-towner tourists coming in to gawk and steal our lawn ornaments and wonder if they can use the place to make themselves some money.

I don’t care to have those types trampling over my garden and eating all my vegetables and digging up my flowers to repot and sell, so I’ve put up a wall. It has a gate that visitors can get through if they just take the time to open it.

Admittedly, it’s a small obstacle. But when I share my fics, I share them as a gift with my fellow fans, the ones who understand that fandom is a community, even if they’re lurkers. As for tourist fans and entrepreneurs who see fic as content, who have no qualms ignoring the writer’s wishes, who refuse to respect or understand the fandom community…well, they’re not the people I mean to share my fic with, so I have no issues locking them out. If they want access to my stories, they’ll have to do the bare minimum to become a community member and join the AO3 invite queue.

And y’know, I’ve said a lot about fandom and community here, and I just want to say, I hope it’s not intimidating. When I was younger, talk about The Fandom Community made me feel insecure, and I didn’t think I’d ever manage to be active enough in fandom spaces to be counted as A Member Of The Community. But you don’t have to be a social butterfly to participate in fandom. I’ll always and forever be a chronic lurker, I reblog more than I post, I rarely manage to comment on fic, and I go radio silent for months at a time--but I write and post fanfiction. That’s my contribution.

Do you write, draw, vid, gif, or otherwise create? Congrats, you're a community member.

Do you leave comments? Congrats, you're a community member.

Do you curate reclists? Congrats, you're a community member.

Do you maintain a fandom blog or fuckyeah blog? Congrats, you're a community member.

Do you provide a space for other fans to convene in? Congrats, you're a community member.

Do you regularly send asks (off anon so people know who you are)? Congrats, you're a community member.

Do you have fandom friends who you interact with? Congrats, you're a community member.

There’s lots of ways to be a fan. Just make sure to respect and appreciate your fellow fans and the work they put in for you to enjoy and the gift economy fandom culture that keeps this community going.

#ao3 #lore.fm #fanfiction #fandom history #gift economy #caelum rambles

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crowned-aeris · 3 days

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Okay but like, imagine:

a little phoenix!Tim finding out that Jason died, and goes absolutely balistic. He sneaks out in the middle of the night and into the cemetary. He brings a shovel, a crowbar, and gets to digging.

in the dead of night, illuminated by only the glowing orange-red light of his wings, Tim pries open a wooden coffin with dirty and splintered hands before peering down at the resting body. It was bruised, burned, lifeless, and Tim could feel some part of himself SHRIEK at the wrongness. Tim assumes it’s beacuase he’s desecrating the resting place of his personal hero… but little does he know…

Why does he feel this unsettled? He’s seen dead bodies before, so why does Jason’s make him feel… disgusted?

with shaky hands, tim plucks out one of his primaries, a beautiful glowing thing capable of bringing back dead rabbits and dogs. he gingerly places it on the center of jason’s chest, waiting with baited breath, but…

Why wasn’t it working?

WHY WASN’T IT WORKING?!

Panic seizes Tim’s throat, but h forces himself to remain calm. Surely there’s a reason for this, right? He’s only ever tested his feathers on animals, and- and animals don’t wear clothes, so that must be the thing stopping him, right?

His hands are shaking, trembling and twitching as he tried to undo the suit Jason was buried in. Tim knows he’d hate this- both the suit and the dying- but what can a dead kid do to stop what happens after death?

Nausea rises in his stomach and bile burns the back of his throat, but Tim forces himself to continue. Goddamnit he’ll continue, even if it kills him. As long as Jason comes back, he’ll continue.

The sound of fabric tearing fills the air, but Tim could barely hear it over his rabbit-quick heart pounding in his ears.

Tim tries again, resting the feather onto Jason’s cold, unmoving chest…

But- but there was nothing.

Nothing- why wasn’t anything happening?!

The plucked feather was slowly losing its glow the longer it was severed from Tim’s body. If it had been used, then the feather would’ve glowed brighter before shattering into hundreds of smaller sparks and being absorbed into the creature’s skin. The light would disperse from the original point before settling and healing the wounds from the level of most, to least lethal. The smaller the feather, the less the effect the healing took…

He’s tried to heal the dead before, and it always worked on animals, so why. Wasn’t. It. WORKING?

Tim clenched his jaw, eyes narrowed with frustration before bringing his wing closer to to chest. He reached up for a handful of feathers before YANKING.

The sharp and metallic taste of blood coated his tongue as tears blurred his vision. A fistful of bright glowing feathers lit of Jason’s peaceful expression. Tim felt his breath hitching with the pain, but he shoved past it. Instead, Tim forced his handful of primaries, coverts, and down against Jason’s chest…

And yet, it refused to work.

It refused to work.

Why was it refusing to work?!

He wailed.

“WHY. WON’T. YOU. WORK?!” Tim screamed, tears staining his cheeks, rolling down his chin and splashing against the fading feathers. The familiar tingling sensation spread from his back, reaching his brusied and battered hands before coalescing in his bloodied lip. He sobbed, collapsing into the disturbed earth as his tears stained Jason’s suit jacket. Tim’s throat ached from the scream, but he managed to sob out, “Why won’t you work? I just want Jason back… Please, I just want Robin back…”

Distracted and drowning in his grief, tim didn’t realize the assassing clothed in darkness creep up behind him. Pressing a damp cloth against his nose and mouth. He tried to fight, a strangled scream fleeing his lips for the barest of seconds before everything was engulfed in darkness.

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Hey y’all… if enough ppl show support for this little story, I’ll continue to write ;]

I’ve already thought out how tim’s healing works :3 (please ask me, I’m literally going feral here)

#batman #tim drake #batfamily #batfam #jason todd #fanfic #phoenix #dc batman #phoenix tim drake #writing #batman fanfiction #ra’s al ghul #league of assassins #tw kidnapping #i guess?#wings #please interact #i need the validation

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jaegeraether · 16 hours

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Sunsets and footballers (Part 75)

Lucy Bronze x Reader (62) & Alexia Putellas x Character (31)

Masterlist (other parts here)

((**Just a lil one - 1.8k**))

YFN POV

“I’m sick of this, Luce.” She admitted. She’d been mindful to try not to make Lucy start overthinking everything, but at this point in time, she was truly sick of it all. “I’m sick of hospitals.”

Lucy frame dropped a little as she sat next to her. Her arm was in her lap, her thumb stroking her thigh as they waited for the results of the x-ray.

“Me too..”

The thing about Lucy is that she’s so, so protective. And YFN knew that she’d been overthinking things.

Since they’d been together, she’d been through more trials and tribulations than anyone should have to endure in a lifetime. And although none of it were from faults of their own, she knew Lucy would always hold onto that responsibility. Truth be told, YFN had even worried a little bit about…

“Luce?”

“Mmn?” She responded from her thoughts.

“Please… don’t leave me.”

That got her attention. Her head turned and Lucy scanned her face with those stunning green eyes of hers, so intelligent and warm behind her clear framed glasses. “Why do you think that? Where is this coming from?” Her voice was hurt.

She leant forwards and kissed Lucy’s shoulder, her deltoid more than well-built beneath her lips. “I just know you take a lot of the responsibility for everything that's happened. It’s one of the reasons I love you… but please don’t take any blame for it all. Kristie was just young and obsessed and Mark… well we’ve just been collateral damage in the wake of everything with Mark. None of this is your fault.”

Lucy sighed, defeatedly. “But if we hadn’t met-”

“-If we hadn’t me, then I’d be alone and craving a partnership I didn’t know could exist.” She interjected. She raised her head from her shoulder and the hand that was wrapped around and gripping onto Lucy’s bicep now reached up to stroke her jaw, her cheek, and to cup her face. Lucy’s eyes fluttered closed and she leant into it like she always did. “You and me, against the world. We’re a team. Remember that.”

Lucy let out a soft chuckle; one of her favourite sounds. “Okay, little one. I like that.”

YFN squeezed her cheeks between her thumb and fingers. “Good, because you’re stuck with me, Bronze.”

“Mmn. Don’t say it like it’s a bad thing,” she said as she let YFN gently pull her down to her. She felt her lips become soft and yielding under Lucy’s, and although she’d meant it to be a simple kiss, Lucy tilted her head and brushed her tongue up against hers. They were in a public space, but that was forgotten now as she moaned softly into her.

It was YFN who had to break the kiss, and she was entirely unsure how she managed it as she’d been given some happy drugs and would have easily continued to keep making out with her. Especially with her tasting that sweet taste of the raspberry hospital jelly Lucy had stolen.

They were called in for the results and sure enough, the plate on her collarbone had failed and the screws needed to be realigned. He spoke about how he wanted to operate to reset it properly and ensured that it was a simple fix that he could do the next morning. He was aware that she had a check-up also for her knee scheduled and although she enquired, he insisted that he wouldn’t look at it for at least another week before she could potentially put weight on it.

“We’re going to Manchester tomorrow to see your family though…” she said to Lucy. They were left in one of the examining rooms alone to discuss it.

YFN’s phone started vibrating then and she looked down at it. Joe. She showed Lucy.

“Probably just a check-up.” YFN said.

“And she’ll want to talk about what to do with Mark.” She gave guilty smile, fully aware of how often she was on her phone for work. “I’m sorry…”

“Don’t be,” Lucy said with a lingering kiss on her cheek. “I also need to make a call. I’ll be back soon, little one.”

YFN answered the phone as she watched Lucy leave and the first thing Joe did was ask if she were okay. She was covering the medical bills and expenses and wouldn’t accept anything less.

And then they spoke about Mark. YFN tried to keep it as brief as possible with her explanation of events, as well as her involvement with Jordan and Leah. Catherine took it well. She’d met both women before; Jordan once after one of their wins, and Leah multiple times at events and such. Beyond that, she stated that she trusted her judgement which YFN appreciated.

As for Mark, they spoke about him, his mental state, the involvement of JK and how to best move forwards. She was expecting it to be a long conversation, though Catherine seemed to be making the phone call with her mind already set on a solution.

“I’ll meet him in person.”

“You… what? Really?”

“It’s what’s best. I’m hoping that it will also dissuade him from causing us any more trouble.”

“That is… unexpected. But if you’re sure, then I’m onboard. When will you meet him?”

“In Scotland next week. I was assuming you’d be up there for the Lionesses game, and I can find a place to meet that’s discreet.”

“Not Joanne’s home, I hope.”

Lucy walked back in then.

“Definitely not. If you’re okay with it, I’ll find a location and we can all meet there. When will you be in Scotland exactly?”

“Luce? When do the Lionesses go to Scotland?”

“The games on the 5th at night but we leave on the night of the 4th.” She said, tilting her head in question.

She relayed the information.

“Okay… I’ll work with that and let you know.”

“See you then.”

“See you then, and great work today. Let me know if you need anything at all. Take care of yourself, YFN.”

They hung up and Lucy’s head was still tilted like a puppy.

“What’s happening?”

“She’s made the decision to meet Mark in person. Now that we both know about Callie… it only seems right.”

“She can just call him instead of risking that…”

“Yes, but she fears he may still be a problem. She knows he won’t give us anymore trouble if she’s standing in front of him.”

She nodded slowly. “That makes sense actually. Finally this can all be over.”

“Finally – but I’m hoping he gets closure at some point.”

Lucy took her hand and stroked her thumb over her knuckles. “Me too, little one.”

“Mmn.” She looked down at their hands together. Hers were quite small compared to Lucy’s larger hands adorned with a few scars. She’d memorised them all and liked to trace them on occasion, along with the other hard-earned scars she had over her body. Each with a story of its own. “Who did you call?”

“Hm? Oh. Mum and Jorge.”

“Oh?”

“I told them we can’t come tomorrow and they suggested theyll come down earlier than they were planning to so we can all spend some time together. They were coming down Friday for the game anyways, but now they’re coming Thursday so we can catch up. They miss you.”

Oh, Luce. Organising things so she didn’t have to. Always trying to make her life easier. “I miss them. And thank you for doing that… I’m really tired after the last few days and I just want to sleep tomorrow.”

“Well you’ll definitely be sleeping during the surgery…”

“You think we should do it? Tomorrow morning?”

“Are you kidding? No question. We’re getting you on the path to recovery as soon as we can. I know injuries, love, and procrastinating over them only makes it worse and extends the recovery period.”

Lucy was passionate about it, and she loved that.

“So I can have the full day off tomorrow?”

“Tomorrow and Wednesday. Then we have my family Thursday, and the game on Friday. And then I believe the girls want to go out for dinner after the game.”

“The whole club?”

“Yep,” she said as she stroked her hand and YFN was interested in the fact that she couldn’t read her expression. “Family and friends.”

“The game’s at 7:45pm which means we won’t be anywhere until at least 10pm after everyone showers and dresses.”

“Mmn – it’s already booked, little one.”

She smiled. More time with Lucy’s friends and family. “I’ll be there. Just look for the one in the wheelchair.”

They finished up at the hospital and headed back to Lumos with some more happy drugs in YFN’s system. They ended their day there bantering with friends, networking, creating content and eating the food they were previously deprived of. Although it was a tough choice to make, her favourite interview of the day was a pet interview she did in English with Alexia and Chiquito, Lucy and Narla. She loved the dynamic, not only between the footballers but the animals. They’d met a few times before, and so they acted towards each other very similar to Alexia and Lucy. She couldn’t help but wonder though about Chiquito and how Ridley had left him behind. He was her heart. She’d be missing him right now. And Alexia. And herself.

She wondered if she should reach out and decided against it. She was the only person who knew how to get hold of Ridley because she trusted her and knew she wouldn’t do that. She’d respect her privacy. But also… know when to push.

But was sending her a photo of Chiquito taking advantage of that? She took the photo of Chiquito and Alexia as she sat cross legged and he sat between her legs, his tail wrapped around himself as he leant back to look up at her with those loving eyes. It was a beautiful shot. Alexia was actually smiling in it as she stared down at him with adoration.

The two looked the perfect pair the entire day, including when she and Ona left for the apartment. She wondered if she’d leave, and was disappointed at the thought that it would be very soon. She really liked Alexia.

After Alexia left, people started trickling out and both YFN and Lucy ended the day with help from a few friends. Beth’s loud voice was a great asset. When everyone but a few Lumos staff were gone, they eventually saw themselves out. YFN couldn’t help but notice the Lumos player wall on the way out which was now overrun with players’ signatures. Staring in the very middle with one Lucy Bronze. 2. 15.

By the time they were home, she missed dinner and instead fell asleep as soon as her head touched the pillow.

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dudeitiskarev · 3 days

Text

Maybe Someday | Ch. 8

A Spencer Reid mini-series

Pairing: Spencer Reid x female reader

Chapter summary: feelings come to light and neither knows how to handle it.

Word count: 1.8k

Tags/warnings: mention of reader’s abortion, regrets, love confession *gasps*

Author’s note: this part was so a bit tedious to finish because they just didn’t want to talk about their almost kiss and nothing felt right. I had to grab them each by their ear and sit them in a room and force them to talk 🤭

PREVIOUS CHAPTER | SPENCER MASTERLIST

You’d come to his place to address the big elephant in the room. Instead, you got slapped in the face with memories.

Henry was the kid that was born the day you had an abortion. He was a beautiful and kind little human who managed to turn your very exhausting day into a lightweight.

When you held him, he’d caressed your cheeks and nose with his tiny fingers. It helped him fall asleep and you couldn’t help but wonder what your life would be like right now if you hadn’t gone through with the procedure (what would make your baby fall asleep so soundly).

You wouldn’t have Spencer, that’s for sure. Which was enough reason to know it was the right choice. But you wondered, how much you wondered...

The front door opened and you jumped, trying your best to gather yourself before Spencer made it next to you.

“Hey,” he said, sitting down. “You okay?”

You nodded, looking at him. “I miss Henry already,” You said through a small laugh.

You missed your baby. What could’ve been. What could still be.

“Yeah, he has that effect on people as soon as he leaves,” Spencer gave you a lopsided smile.

You’d healed since then but that didn’t mean you’d ever forget and you had too many emotions playing with your body right now. Your throat was too tight to even swallow properly.

You cleared your throat. “I think I’m gonna go now.” You stood up, wiping your sweaty palms on your pants and reaching for your purse.

Spencer mirrored you and stood in your way. “Sorry, I didn’t think of it when you said you wanted to go.” He gulped with guilt. “Henry triggered memories, didn’t he?”

You smiled. Of course, he’d noticed.

“It’s fine, it’s not your fault.”

“It is, though.” He raised his brows. “I insisted you’d come in.”

“No, I should’ve called before showing up. I just wanted to ta—“You bit your tongue right away and looked away “It’s fine. Don’t worry.”

“Talk about what?” He searched for your eyes.

You took a deep breath, raising your brows. “Nothing, it’s silly.”

“You can talk to me, you know?”

No man has ever been so soft-spoken to you about everything, always, all the time. You wished he had the power to make himself tiny so you could put him inside your pocket and carry him with you forever.

“I know, but… you haven’t mentioned it so I don’t think I should either.”

Spencer stared and his chest rose as he took a deep breath. “Is it about how we almost kissed?”

He’d probably been thinking about it more than you.

You huff a small embarrassed laugh, raising your brows. “About that day, yes.” Spencer didn’t respond, giving you the window to talk about what’s been keeping you up at night these past two weeks. “I… I got very emotional,” you began, moving your hands and using them as a second language in case words turned blurry. “You made me very emotional by showing up out of nowhere with perfect gifts and perfect things to say and I guess I got carried away with my feelings.” You brought one palm to your chest. “Not that I didn’t mean what I said but after, what happened after is what”—you chuckled at the memories that were still so damn vivid—“I cried and we hugged very closely and—“ you clasped them together. This was going terribly already. “I think it made things awkward between us. I mean, we barely talked for like two weeks and now I’m making it more awkward but… I needed to address it.”

You ended up so out of breath you were lightheaded. But you didn’t sit down. You wanted to run. Disappear. Become dust. But he was still in your way.

“Yeah.” Spencer raised his brows, nodding. “Yeah, I guess I got carried away too?” He gulped and his voice slowly faded as he added, “Not that I didn’t mean any of it either.”

You took a step closer and placed your palm over his upper arm. “You’re my best friend, Spencer.”

His arm twitched at your touch and his gaze softened, his brows pinched together ever so slightly and his honey-sweet voice came out so pained it began to shatter the ice surrounding—protecting—your heart as he said, “I don’t want you like a best friend.”

Oh, this was not how it was supposed to go.

“Spencer,” you breathed out, taking a step back and saying the first thing that came to your mind. “You’re… you’re getting the wrong message.”

“Am I?” He took half a step closer.

He was making it so hard. To stay put. Stay away. And right now, more than ever, a strong warmth welled in your chest.

“I would’ve kissed you if Noah hadn’t shown up,” he said. “And I know you would’ve kissed me, too.”

Something inside you cracked. It was the ice around your heart melting.

“We would’ve kissed.” He lifted his hand and caressed your cheek with the back of his curled fingers.

“Yeah, but that doesn’t mean… anything.” You shut your eyes in an attempt to dodge his touch.

It was getting so, so warm inside you.

“It does to me,” he replied.

So warm.

“I’m in love with you,” he bluntly confessed, raw and straightforward.

Your breath hitched and the air in your lungs was gone. The man you loved, loved you back.

You couldn’t help but laugh a little.

So, so, so incredibly warm.

“I love you,” Spencer said. “I know you. I know who you are, and I love you. Just like that. I love you.”

You opened your eyes and caught the plea in his eyes.

“Say you don’t love me and I promise you”—he begged, cradling your face with both hands—“I’ll try my hardest to make it go away if that’s what you want. Just say you don’t love me back and I’ll… make it stop.” You couldn’t move or breathe or talk or do anything at all. It sounded like a prayer. Like he was talking to an all-powerful being, begging for an answer. “I know you have feelings for me too. I know you do, you wouldn’t have said all those beautiful things if you didn’t.”

You wrapped both of your hands around his wrists to tear yourself off his touch. But you stayed there, hands clutching. “I’m not good for you.” Your voice barely came out.

“Don’t… say that.”

“I have nothing to offer, Spencer I… you deserve someone that—”

His eyes darkened and his tone changed as he said, “Why won’t you let me in?”

Because the last time you did—letting in a man by saying ‘I love you’—he got you pregnant then left you. You’d realized soon after that it was attachment disguised as love. And deep down you feared this might be it, again.

“I need… a moment.” You let go of his touch and walked past him on your way to the door.

“Where are you going?” He walked behind you.

“Home.” You turned the knob and opened it. “I… I need to think, Spencer.”

“No!” He slammed the door shut with his whole palm. “Just talk to me, damn it!”

You flinched by instinct, but even his loud voice was filled with care.

“Sorry, I’m so sorry I didn’t mean to—“ he brought one hand to his mouth. “I don’t know what—“

“What do you want me to say?!” You matched his tone. It was all about to come out now. It was brewing within you. The love. “That I love you too?! That it terrifies me to love you this much.” You closed the gap between you two and pointed a finger at yourself. “Good things don’t happen to me. And you are the best thing that’s ever happened to me. I don’t want to do anything different because I want to keep you in my life. Like this. This far away. Forever.”

Spencer held your face tenderly and scanned your probably wrecked features. “You don’t have to do anything.” He begged. “You don’t have to do anything differently at all. Please.”

The hurt in his tone was like a ton of needles wanting to get through you.

“I’m scared,” You murmured. “What if—

His forehead was glued to yours now. “I won’t go anywhere. And I won’t let you go away ever again. Just… let me in and we’ll figure it all out together. Just don’t walk away. Don’t leave me. Please,” he said, his voice just above a whisper.

He sounded so scared. All you could do was nod with guilt, licking your lips. “I won’t. I promise.”

He then fell silent. Only your shaky breaths separated you. Your foreheads glued together, his hands cradling your entire head, almost, and your hands clutching his waist. Hearts beating for each other.

He’d said he loved you and you admitted loving him back, and neither was doing anything about it.

“I… I still have to go home,” you broke the silence.

“I know.” His lips were hovering over yours, a small smile tugging at the corner of his lips as he added, “Just let me… have you this close a little longer. Let me—“

He cut himself off by leaning. His lips grazed yours ever so slightly yet he didn’t kiss you, as if there was a magnetic force keeping your lips from touching properly.

“Spencer,” you murmured.

“Hmm?”

“Just kiss me already.”

“I’m trying I—“

You yanked him by the nape of his neck and pressed your lips together. It was harsh, but he was taking too long. His hands traveled down your sides to your waist and pulled you closer into a tight hug as the kiss slowly became a real one.

He let out a dark sound as he parted his lips, changing the pace. Took charge and the earth stopped spinning. This was your only world right now, in his arms and his lips and his hands burying into your body.

You wrapped your arms around his neck and stood on your tippy toes as if you couldn’t be any closer. You wanted him closer. You wanted to crawl inside his skin. Be a part of him and let him have you whole.

He abruptly pulled away to catch some air, panting against your lips.

“I need— I’m getting too eager, hold on.” He pressed his forehead with yours again.

You swallowed, trying to regulate your breathing but your thoughts came out loud. “God, Spencer. I didn’t think you’d be such a good kisser.”

You were still levitating.

“Uh, thank you?” He sort of laughed.

“Would you kiss me again?” You asked, searching for his eyes but he had them shut tight. You missed his lips already. You needed to keep kissing him until it all became real.

“Right now?” His voice came out slightly high-pitched.

“Or in a billion years. I can wait.”

You’ll wait for him forever and would relive your life a thousand times if it meant you’ll have this again.

He laughed a little. “You don’t have to wait that long.”

YAYYYYYYYY they finally stopped being so stupid 🤭

From now on everything is even more fast paced. There’s only 2 chapters left 💖

Thank you to everyone who’s been following this little story so far. I see you and I appreciate you all so very much 🥹🫶💖

#spencer reid self insert #Spencer Reid #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid x self insert #spencer reid x fanfiction #spencer reid x y/n

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waldau · 2 days

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hii! I've noticed that you haven't written anything for minghao yet (according to your master list) so I wanted to request something cozy and homey with him. like maybe cooking together or waking up together or something along those lines.. :)

hello anon! i was feeling extra sappy with minghao and this also happens to be my first work for him. thank you so much for requesting it, i hope you see this!

gender neutral reader. warnings: none.

muse — xu minghao | 1,382 words | fluff

minghao blinks his eyes open to the sound of silence. there’s not much he can hear right out, except for the distant sound of cars going past. he lazes around for a few more moments before giving in and checking the time on his phone.

it’s just shy of six in the morning. he needs to be up and at the studio by nine, but he doesn’t feel like moving just yet. he puts his phone away and turns around to you, to watch you sleep.

the first time he’d ever done it was unfortunately a time you weren’t actually asleep, and he’d ended up staring at you for ten minutes before you woke up and apologized to him, saying that you couldn’t pretend to stay asleep without wanting to burst into laughter.

he still remembers how embarrassed he’d been by that, and how you made it up to him with kisses and multiples reassurances that it had been okay, that he could do it again, that it wasn’t a problem at all, you’d just been caught off-guard the very first time.

the thing is — minghao adores you. he’s in awe of you. to him, no one else on this planet even compares to how exquisite you are. he loves how like-minded the two of you are, how affectionate you’re with him, and how much you support him without even saying any words. of course, he loves going out on dates with you, seeing new places with you, seeing you match the outfits he wears, but this might just be his favourite sight in the world.

this being seeing you asleep on your side, facing him, a hand tucked under your head and the other holding his own. as an artist, he’s used to noticing the finer details about everything he sees, so when it comes to you, he could lose himself for hours noticing every single thing about you that makes him love you more.

minghao gently untangles his hand from your grasp, drawing his own blanket over you properly so that you don’t feel cold. he immediately feels the cold winter air hit his bare arms, and he winces as he gets used to it. he’s going to need to workout before he leaves, because there’s no time for it in the evening. not if he wants to finish work fast enough to come back to have dinner with you.

his fingers itch for a brush. it’s been a while since he’s painted something. the last thing he’d put on his canvas had been a rendition of a sunset he’d been able to see with you a few weeks ago. it had been magical; the beautiful hues of orange and yellow blending with the shimmering brightness of the sea, contrasting the pale hue of the sky.

but nothing looked more beautiful than you sitting next to him, watching the sun rise and letting the water wash over your legs. he’d been tempted to paint you instead, right there, but you’d dragged him out on a monday morning for inspiration, despite the fact that both of you had work soon, and he wasn’t going to let it go to waste.

but he doesn’t really need inspiration. not when you’re his muse.

he runs his fingers across your face as gently as he can, glad that you’re still asleep. you’ve been having trouble sleeping recently, and he’s glad he’s part of why you’ve been sleeping better. he smiles when he notices two faint pillow creases stamped into your cheek, angry red lines that he hopes don’t hurt you at all. you somehow manage to look even more perfect with them.

he doesn’t know how long he’s been staring at you before your eyes blink open slowly, and somehow his eyes are the first thing that yours find. he holds his breath, waiting for you to speak.

“hao?” you ask, voice croaky. “what time is it?”

minghao checks his phone again. “six thirty-seven. you still have twenty three more minutes to sleep, if you want.”

“mm,” you say, before you roll in closer and pull his arm to yourself. “wake me up at seven, then.” before he can say anything, you look up at him. “aren’t you supposed to leave early today?”

he nods. “do you want me to leave?”

you huff and tug at his arm to pull him closer to yourself, and he goes down willingly. “you know that’s not what i meant.”

“what did you mean, then?” he asks, pinching your nose softly.

you’re used to his teasing by now, so you just roll your eyes throw an arm around his waist. “did you sleep well, hao?”

“really well. you?”

“me too. but…how long were you staring at me this time?”

he feigns shock. “you could tell?”

“i can just…feel it, somehow,” you giggle. “won’t you tell me?”

“do you really want me to?”

“of course,” you say, eyes shining despite the layer of sleep clinging to them. minghao wishes he could spend more time with you like this. it’s almost like you’re forcing yourself to stay awake despite having some more time to sleep, just to talk to him. the thought warms his chest.

“maybe forty minutes? maybe more.”

there’s a grin on your face. “correct me if i’m wrong, but…i think you love me?”

he could just refute it, tease you a little, joke that you’re in too deep, but he can’t. there’s something about the early hours of the morning combined with the fact that he has the honour to wake up with you that makes his heart heavy. he’s lucky to even have this, especially with you.

“you’re right,” he says, voice rough, feeling his waterline sting suddenly. “i love you.”

the grin on your face disappears slowly. “hao? is everything okay?”

“of course it is, darling,” he says, bending down to kiss your forehead, brushing off some rogue strands of hair to kiss it properly, tucking it behind your ear so he can see your beautiful face better. “i love you. is that wrong?”

“no, silly,” you say, leaning up to cup his cheek in your palm. your hand is cold. maybe he should’ve warmed you up better. “you sound…sad. like there’s something eating at you.”

he closes his eyes and indulges himself in your touch, trying to work out his words, marvelling at how easily you can read him. “i…love you. you know that, right?”

“yeah. i love you, too. but…?”

“but,” he sighs, “i just…don’t have the right words to tell you how much i love you. i could say i love you a thousand times, but it wouldn’t be enough. i could kiss you a thousand times and it wouldn’t be enough. i could…i could ask you to marry me but nothing would be enough to tell you how thankful i am that you’re here with me. that you’re mine.”

silence, just the two of you in your bedroom, the sounds of life filtering in from outside the window.

your breath is shaky when you speak. “hao.” you drop your hand down to his arm. “i love you, too. you don’t…i don’t need any grand gestures from you. just…be with me. every single day. be mine forever. that’s it.”

“there’s nowhere else i want to be.”

“then that’s all i need.”

minghao presses a kiss to your head. he hopes it conveys everything he’s feeling right now. he’s about to say something more when your alarm goes off, and he really should get going if he doesn’t want to reach work late.

“see you in the evening?” you ask, hand catching his as he attempts to get to his feet. “maybe we can talk about…getting married? for real?”

minghao hasn’t even opened the curtains yet, and he feels like he’s standing in front of the sun again. he’s going to go to work, do well, come back home to you and hold you and hear about your day and eat with you. he’s going to surprise you with a painting of yourself, and he’s going to marry you. that’s the life he’s built for himself with you, and he loves it.

it’s all he needs to keep going, every single day.

“i can’t wait. i’ll be back before you know it, darling.”

taglist: @bookyeom @wootify @strnsvt @cloudycaramel @thepoopdokyeomtouched @minnieminshi @nonononranghaee @hrts4hanniehae @viewvuu @bewoyewo

#idk i tried writing #xu minghao #xu minghao fluff #minghao fluff #minghao #fluff #seventeen #seventeen fluff #svt #svt fluff #waldau writes #req

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mochidolls · 1 day

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I HAVE ANOTHER idea… grins super wide.. (could also possibly be a prologue to the mom ellie rq I Sent a few days back) but but yk how Jackson has a daycare right.. and and.. ellie meeting reader there for.. idk maybe she signed up too late for patrols so she had to take on some other duty!! And she needs reader at the daycare and at first she’s so annoyed cuz she’d much rather do patrol but seeing u be so nice and motherly makes her time there a bit less annoying n after a while she starts to genuinely enjoy spending time with reader there n having fun with Al the kids and makes jokes abt u n her having ur own kids one day (little does she know that h did) DOES THIS MAKE ANY SENSE. This is so long Ivy I’m sorry. Tldr ellie and reader meeting at Jackson daycare! I just think that’s so adorable

n : i’m so sorry this took so long ml but this prompt is so cute and i am eternally grateful for u for it!!<33

please read (important!!) / please read! / how you can help palestine

ellie tried to stifle the sigh that was bubbling up within her chest, ready to escape. the scene before her was almost guaranteed to give her a headache in the next few moments. the garishly bright rainbow-coloured walls, the unnecessarily loud squeals, and the chatter of sticky, snotty-nosed toddlers running amok—oh, and there we go, one just bumped into her.

“sorry,” the little girl apologised with a timid smile, revealing a gap between her teeth. ellie’s lips twitched—just smile, be nice. be. nice. like she promised. this should be a breeze. she almost managed an "it’s okay" before noticing the girl sniffle, dragging her hand over her snotty nose, leaving a trail of mucus on her hand as she walked away.

in that very moment, ellie knew she would never have kids.

she’d have to keep that thought to herself, though. she couldn’t voice her opinions and risk making a group of kids cry, followed by you giving her that disapproving look. god, she hated that look. c

all her a bit of a sap, but she’d rather face a pack of wolves than see you look at her like that.

ellie’s thoughts paused as she heard the melody of your voice, gently calling the children’s attention. your voice, so sweet and soft, captivated them, drawing them close and silencing their chatter. it never ceased to amaze ellie how you did it.

but it wasn’t as if your voice hadn’t had the same effect on her—making her stumble over her words and her stomach do somersaults like a nervous schoolgirl. embarrassing, really.

the room grew quiet as the children listened to your instructions for a colouring activity. how fun! you handed each of them paper and coloured pencils, and once they were settled, you noticed ellie leaning against the doorframe, a sight you’d grown quite familiar with since she started helping out at the daycare. not that she helped much, but having her around kept you sane.

you waved at her with your sweet smile, and she waved back, trying hard not to crumble under that smile. it got even harder when you approached her, the rose and vanilla perfume you wore (not that she noticed or anything) making her knees weak. get it together, ellie.

“hi,” you spoke softly, a gentle smile gracing your lips. god, kill her now.

“hey,” ellie replied, trying to act nonchalant, though she was struggling.

“you’re not joining in?” you teased, playfully nudging her arm.

“do i look six?” ellie huffed, meeting your gaze as a cheeky grin spread across your face.

“don’t answer that, it was rhetorical,” ellie quickly added before a chuckle escaped your lips.

“oof, looks like one of them got to you,” you pointed at the smear of snot on her jeans.

“oh, fuck me,” ellie muttered with an exasperated sigh, earning a playful punch to her arm. she looked at you with a ‘what was that for?’ expression.

“what happened to the no swearing rule?”

“that rule is dumb.” ellie grumbled in response, rubbing her arm where you’d punched her.

“i truly wonder how you’ll cope when you have your own kids.” you crossed your arms, shaking your head in mock disappointment.

“one, don’t wish that on me, and two, our kids would be well-behaved, not snotty brats running around.” ellie grumbled, then stopped herself, realising what she’d just said. our kids? really? way to make it obvious, williams.

“i meant… my, uh, my kids! not ours. not that there’s anything wrong with you! i just—” ellie stumbled over her words, a pink blush creeping up her cheeks as another chuckle escaped your lips.

“something you want to tell me, williams?” you asked with a smile. before she could respond, a little boy ran up to you, patting your leg eagerly. “look! look!”

“hm? let’s see your drawing, mason.” you crouched down to his height, looking at the colourful stick figures he’d drawn. “this one is me,” the little boy pointed at one figure kicking a ball. “this one is you, and this one is ellie.” at the mention of her name, ellie snapped her attention back to the drawing.

“why does ellie look so grumpy, mase?” you asked with a small smile, pointing at the stick figure with a comically grumpy expression.

“ellie’s always grumpy!” the boy chirped, meeting her gaze.

“i’m not always grumpy,” ellie scoffed, looking away.

“yes, you are!”

“i’m not.”

“are too!”

“am not.”

“are.too.”

“am.not.”

“all right, that’s enough. mase, you can go back to colouring, okay?” you gently patted the boy’s back before ruffling his hair.

“okay!” mason nodded with a smile and ran off.

you turned back to ellie, still smiling. “we’re arguing with kids now?”

“he started it. and look how you handled that. natural. see? our kids will be fine.” ellie emphasised ‘our’ to tease you.

“uou’re already thinking about our future kids?” you asked, raising an eyebrow, playing along. the two of you couldn’t help but smile at the thought of having a family together one day. spoiler alert: you did.

“is that a problem?” ellie retorted, raising an eyebrow, and for a moment, the two of you just stared at each other.

“we’ll talk later.”

#🎀#ellie williams fluff #ellie williams x reader #ellie williams tlou #ellie fluff #ellie the last of us

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xkaidaxxxx · 2 days

Text

Fortunate Ones

BAKUGOU X READER

Mentions: Corrupt Government, Quirkless, Injections, Pregnancy, Dad Bakugou, Fluff!

reblogs are appreciated! <3

There was a point in time where life was happy for everyone. Then one day things changed.

Those with Quirks lived a better life. Good homes, good environment, upperhand on job opportunities. Quirkless born have it rough. A child should have their quirk by the age of 5 and if not the government will give the child another year just in case they’re late bloomers. If no quirk is developed by the age of 6 they’re separated from their parents and put into the quirkless side of town, Although they are allowed to travel anywhere.They get paired with a good family. They’re not allowed to have any contact with their old family.

You grew up with Bakugou and Izuku. Yeah Bakugou was an asshole but you still followed behind him just as everyone else did. You and Deku had each other. Yes you were parted from your birth parents but the ones you were given too were great. They love you like their own. Deku went through the same thing which is why you guys are understanding each other. You thought you’d be with Izuku forever as besties and have a possibility to end up with Bakugou.

Izuku never told either of you about training with All Might. He couldn’t. He didn’t even tell you about getting into U.A. You thought you'd be going to school. You knew Bakugou got in and it hurt you like hell. Parting ways with someone you fell in love with. “ Since when do you have a quirk!?” You yelled at Izuku. “You’re a piece of shit for not telling her sooner.” Bakugou said. “ It’s not what you think,”Izuku said. He wanted to stay with his best friend. He wished the three of you could attend the best hero school there is. He cared more about being a hero. “ I can’t believe it. How..just have fun with your quirk Izuku. Bakugou have fun as well. I guess this is it…” you say tears running down your face. “Who knows…maybe we can meet up one day or whatever.” He said handing you a piece of paper with his number on it. You smiled. “Y-Yeah..thanks. I’ll miss you guys more than anything.” you said. Bakugou hated it when he was forced into a group hug. He hates physical contact but tolerated it for you. He’s always had a soft side, though he's a total asshole.

Everyone went their separate ways. You didn’t stay in contact with Izuku. He’s “too busy.” when in reality he didn't make time. He cared more about being a hero. Bakugou is very serious about it too but he tried and did make time even if it was talking on the phone or meeting up in the city going to places where Quirkless people were allowed in. Sometimes he’d even facetime with you at night even after a long and tiring day. Yes he’d knock out mid way with you but he made the time and it made you happy.

As time went on Bakugou developed feelings towards you and finally confessed after becoming a hero and you two Immediately started dating. During the ending of highschool there was a bill being set. Quirkless people were not allowed to house with a quirk user unless married. Then 2 years later the bill passed.

“We could always lie. We don’t have to worry about it. Let me handle it.” Bakugou said, holding you close. You were both 20 and ready to move out. Bakugou was making a great amount of money from being a hero even though he's young. You were in your 3rd year in college studying for business management and English language. You had a small business. It’s going very well. You always have orders coming in. “We can’t lie about it,Kats. If they find out then what?” you asked. “We’ll make it happen eventually.” he replied, pecking your cheek. You nodded slightly. It was your plan with him. Him becoming a hero, you finishing school and starting your small business then soon enough live together. You continued your homework. Thank god you’re the smartest in all your class and gained trust from your teachers. They’d give great recommendations for when you need a job.

“Hey mom. I brought her to meet you. You’ll love her.” Katsuki said. He brought you into the living room. “Really!? All this time?” Mitsuki said, giving you a big hug. You returned it. She’s known you since a kid; she just never thought you’d end up dating her son. “You should’ve told me since you started dating her. Why did you keep it a secret for so long?” She asked, letting me go. “I told him I wasn’t ready not until I was almost done with university.” You answered. “We were planning to move in together but…the new bill was placed..” he said gripping your hand lightly. Mitsuki knows how much he loves you because when you and Bakugou started she noticed how much he started changing and in a great way. “You two are young. Still in the beginning of the new chapter. Us parents will be here to support you both.” Mitsuki said.

When you and Katsuki turned 21 he proposed to you. While you were at work he decorated the dining room with candles and roses.(he lived on his own.) He made your favorite meal. The lights were dimmed. “Hey Kats. I'm here. What did you need help with?” you asked as you took off your heels. “Yeah I'm in the dining room,” he replied. You went over and blushed as you saw the lovely decorated table. You both enjoyed the food. You talked and laughed. “You’re such a romantic, it's cute. Thank you for this.” You said smiling. “I have one more surprise.” He walked over to you.” he replied and made you stand up. “ Where are you taking me?” you asked. “No No, just stand there okay. Close your eyes, loser.” he replied. You obeyed him. Bakugou took out the ring and got down on one knee. “Open.” he ordered. When you saw him your heart was racing. “Y/n I'm in love with you and you know that. You give me everything you have to offer. You always express your love to me. Make me the happiest man in the world and marry me.” He asked. You nodded as you started crying with him. He slipped the ring on your finger. When the wedding happened a year later you both were so happy, loved and fortunate, very very fortunate.

You must be wondering why? Well thank god you and Bakugou decided to try for a baby during the honeymoon and it happened. You were blessed twins, baby boys. During the time you were 7 months the government released the news about planning on injecting half of the quirkless females. An injection to stop them from reproducing. You had your babies and after you got approval from the doctor to have another child. You and Bakugou got to work. It was hard to take care of the twins while pregnant but you and Bakugou want a little tribe.

“ Morning my wonderful boys.” Bakugou said to the twins who were awake and ready for their bottles. He carried both of them and got comfortable on the couch he fed both of them. Struggled but fed them. You were still asleep. He makes sure you get proper rest which is why he took time off work. To help you around the house another set of twins are on the way. You woke up around 9:30 am“Kats?Kousuke?Kensuke?” You called. “In the bathroom babe!” Bakugou said. He was giving the twins their baths. Kensuke was the calm one and Kousuke…sweet lord he’s the wild one. You walked in and saw Bakugou’s shirt all wet. The boys cooed and kicked as Bakugou made silly faces. Kousuke splashed water as Bakugou lifted him to scrub his back. “Let me help kats.” you said with a smile. It took about a good 30 minutes to bath them and have them all set .

You had a small and cute gender reveal only you,bakugou, his parents, yours and your 2 siblings. It was inside the second nursery. Your sister knows the genders so she planned it. “You guys ready?” Mitsuki recorded. You and Bakugou took a deep breath and then let go as you both opened the closet. Half of it was filled with boy clothes and the other with girl clothes. You shared a kiss with Bakugou. Everyone clapped. “ I love you and our babies.” Bakugou said as he rubbed your bump. “ We love you too, loser.” you replied. Months later you pushed your beautiful babies out.

You guys want a K family and you also wanted to have one more pregnancy. Hopefully you’re not one of the chosen quirkless females for the injection and lucky for guys you werent. By the time you and Bakugou were 26 you had 6 kids.

Kids' names. K family. Eldest to youngest.

Kousuke Bakugou(m)

Kensuke Bakugou (m)

Kyousuke Bakugou (m)

Kimiko Bakugou (f)

Kaoru Bakugou (f)

Kaisei Bakugou (m)

You changed the kids out of their pjs and into cute clothes. Your mother made a family gathering. Bakugou hugged you from behind then nibbled on your ear whispering, “We should have one more, don't you think my sexy girl.” Your eyes widened when you felt his bulge. “ Go fix your problem in our room.” you said. “ Come on one more?” he begged, leaving a hickey on your neck. You saw the kids fall asleep as you packed up their diaper bags. “ Katsuki Bakugou no.” you replied. His hands roamed your body. When he got to your breasts you moaned as he pinched your nipples,you felt your milk leak a bit. “ one more.” he whispered in your ear and then licked your neck. “Fuck it.” you gave in. He was about to carry you away until baby Kaisei started crying. Bakugou rolled his eyes. “Mommys boy for sure,” he said. You smacked him then carried Kaisei, rocking him in your arms. Bakugou looked at him playing with his little hand. Kaisei wrapped his hand around Bakugou’s finger and gripped it. When the kids do that to him he always ends up crying. You never knew why but he always smiles and pecks their hands in the process.

The best part of it all is that your children grew up with quirks. When they got their quirks you and Bakugou were blessed. Blessed to be able to stay with your family.

You both were blessed by God to keep your loving family.

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i4mizu · 1 day

Note

I love how u put “ name ur desire” vsahjlhiaskuhskhuahiksjai

can I request mizu x reader, in which reader is an artist and they do very very much nsfw stuff in reader’s art studio？ pretty pleaseeee 🥺🥺🥺🥺🩵🩵

best mizu voice line fr 🫡🫡 KASKSJK glad u like it, anon! 💕 but let’s talk… i’m not that experienced on writing nsfw stuff so i’m already apologizing for any mistakes 😭 but your request is so creative, thank you! 🩷🩷

nsfw warning | masterlist | mizu x fem reader

it was another late afternoon in your studio, just you with your brush in front of the easel.

mizu’s voice suddenly could be heard, and it was getting closer. your best friend was kind enough to bring you food all week just for you.

“y/n? i’m here, brought your stuff.”

she approached while leaving the food on the table, looking at you for a few seconds.

“what happened? don’t lie, i know that face.”

“client wants this for tomorrow afternoon, but i can’t end it. nothing comes on my mind…”

the blue eyes studied you. she knew you were a completely chaos inside, and wouldn’t show it. so she went back to studying the painting.

“may i know what is this about?”

you explain to her about ‘phantom of the opera’ and all the client's demands right after. mizu was thoughtful for a few seconds, but she managed to notice your body shaking.

“i can help you, if you want.”

“what are you going to do? sing opera for me?”

if it were someone else, they would probably be confused by the way you spoke. but mizu knows you and understands well the reason for your harsh speech.

she turned towards your little music box, and suddenly the musical's theme song began to echo throughout the whole studio.

“would you do me the honor of this dance?”

you burst into laughing. but mizu approaches and you start dancing with her, arms around her neck and hers on your waist. it was a funny experience, actually. the slow dance didn't fit in at all with the beginning of the song.

but it was when you two stopped in front of the large mirror that the rhythm of the music changed. mizu tightened her grip on your waist, held your chin towards the mirror and made the knee thing.

“if i could be erik, oh… you would never escape from me.” she whispered very close to your ear.

“mizu?! what are you do–” she holds you closer to her body and starts trailing kisses from your jawline to your collarbone.

you try really hard to resist, but you give up when she carries you and sits you down at one of the tables. papers flying and brushes falling in some directions.

“…The Phantom Of The Opera Is There…”

“i thought you were going to help me with the painting…” your pants were already coming off your feet at this point.

“i’ll make you fucking sing for me.”

she takes off your panties with a ferocity never seen before, and gets very close to you ear.

“if i were erik, i would have taught you so many things besides singing...”

two of her fingers touched your wet cunt gently. they were delicate and icy just like those of a ghost.

“if i ever knew that some duchess dared to touch you...” she buries her fingers inside you, letting you scape a loud moan. “i would have to do something. wouldn't i, my angel?”

your legs instinctively open to give mizu more freedom. the slow speed was like real torture. but this was making her very satisfied. she watched your face hiding into her neck, your contained moans were like music for her.

even though they were almost silent, they were like a complement to the background song.

“…Since The Moment I First Heard You Sing, I Have Needed You With Me To Serve Me...”

“sing for me, angel. just like that…”

you close your eyes feeling the speed increase. but, something different happened.

mizu's hot tongue began to dance at your entrance in complete balance with her cold fingers. your moans almost overcame the music. she could feel your hand grabbing her hair, only encouraging her even more.

it was a mess of varied sounds. the table creaking with you bringing your hips closer to mizu’s mouth, the song repeating itself several times and your loud and incessant moans.

she could feel your walls tightening. mizu got up and started kissing you, her fingers didn't stop entering your cunt. when finally cumming into hers fingers, your moans were muffled by the shared kiss.

“that was the most beautiful melody i’ve ever heard from you…” she gets up and taste her fingers, all soaked with your juices. “hope you got the inspiration you needed.”

JUST POSTED AND I’M RUNNING AWAY RIGHT NOW BYEEEE 🏃🏻‍♀️

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ilovepaigebueckerss · 2 days

Text

the other women.

word count: 886 (kinda short)

pairing: p.b. x reader

summary: After the live incident with Azzi y/n confronts paige.

pt: 2/3 (I think there will be 3 parts idk)

NOT PROOFREAD SO NTM.

i hope yall enjoy thiss. im gonna remake part 1 because it doesnt really fit with this part too well. i mean its good enough for yall to get the plot of the story but ykkk. SO SORRY FOR MAKING AZZI A BAD PERSON YALL ITS FOR THE PLOTTT🙏🙏 tried to do the lil picture thing evb be doing cs i thought it was cute how we feeling?..

-love gabby💋

3RD PERSON

Paige wakes up to an empty bed. She blinks rapidly trying to blink the sleepiness away. Wincing as she feels the hangover coming in. She notices the advil and glass of water on the bedside table you left for her. There was ice in the cup indicating the glass was filled not too long ago.

She doesn’t hesitate to pick up the glass and pills and takes them with one big gulp.

YOUR POV

Whenever you’re mind is too loud you usually vent to Paige and cry in her arms. You couldn’t do that this time so you went for a walk. You honestly had no clue where you were because you were so consumed in your thoughts you lost track of where you were walking.

Youre phone pinged snapping you out of your thoughts.

my fav blonde🖕🏻: Where are you?

You stared at the message not knowing if you should respond or not.

Just out for a walk.

You respond dryly trying to let her know you don’t want to speak to her. You hated confrontation so you didn’t know what you were going to do about the whole Azzi situation.

my fav blondie🖕🏻: Thanks for the advil and water, bug.

You stared at the phone not even realizing you were crying until you saw the tear droplet falling down your screen.

That damn nickname. She had given it to you as a joke when you first started dating and it’s stuck ever since. Whenever she called you it, a wave of comfort rushed through your body. Now it was just making you sad.

“You okay?” you hear a semi-familiar voice call out.

You look up quickly wiping your tears and see this girl from your psychology class. Her name was Addie or something like that.

“Yeah” you manage to croak out.

“You sure? Doesn’t really seem like it.” she says chuckling attempting to lighten the mood.

“Yeah. Thanks for asking.” You say smiling.

She smiles back. She was pretty, she had freckles and was brunette.

“Do you need a ride?” She offers still smiling.

“If its not too much of a bother.” You say embarrassed.

“Ofcourse! Hop in.”

PAIGES POV

Guilt is rushing through my body remembering the events from last night. It all happened so fast and it was a mistake.

my baby: omw home. 🤍 (hearted the msg)

my baby: got a ride from this girl

I smiled seeing her notification.

Theres even a video going around and im just praying y/n didnt see it. She could take it the wrong way. I would have to tell her eventually. She just cant find out through a video on social media.

FLASHBACK: AT THE BAR

STILL PAIGES POV

Azzi was being extra touchy tonight but I just assumed it was the alcohol. I mean she knows I have a girlfriend and she loves her.

“Paige, you look so good” Azzi slurs out running her hand down my chest.

I quickly move her hand off of me. “Thanks Azzi.” I say smiling. She puts her red solo cup up to her mouth “I think you’ve had enough to drink tonight” I say grabbing the drink from her.

“Nooooo” She whines. I just laugh at her drunk antics.

She grabs my face and gets really close. “Never noticed how pretty your eyes were.” She says staring at my eyes.

I just smile awkwardly trying to get out of her grasp. Before I knew it her lips were on mine. I gently push her off me. “Azzi.” I begin. “Paige you know you want me just as much as I want you.” She cuts me off.

“I have a girlfriend. And shes the only girl I want.” I say sharply.

“This is bullshit” She spits, pushing herself off of me.

PRESENT TIME

3RD PERSON

“Thanks for the ride.” Y/n says smiling at the brunette. Who smiles back “Anytime.”

—

Y/n is fumbling with her keys outside of the apartment door trying to find the right one. Once you find the key she puts it in the lock and unlocks the door.

Paige immediately shoots up of the couch and runs to her girlfriend. “Hi babyy.” she says smiling and giving you a hug. “missed you.” she says in your neck.

The feeling of Paige’s breathe on your neck made you shiver.

“Hey.” You couldn’t help but smile, missing Paiges warmth.

You let go of each other and you wander off into the kitchen while Paige goes back to her spot on the couch.

“Hey can we talk?” You manage to say. Paige looks up at you and hums in response already knowing what you’re going to say.

“What happened last night..” You pause and clear your throat “With Azzi?” You say trying to hold back your tears.

“Y/n I promise it wasn’t what it looked like.”

“Then what was it Paige.” You snap all your built up anger coming out. “Because it looked like the love of my life cheating on me with her BEST FRIEND.” You say emphasizing the last two words.

“Please let me explain baby.” Paige says, tears pricking her eyes.

“Don’t call me that.” You say coldly.

“You don’t need to explain anything I saw what I needed to see.” You say before Paige could open her mouth to speak.

You walk out of the door not wanting to make the situation worse.

—

thank you for reading mwahh!

#uconn wbb #wbb #paige bueckers #fanfic #uconn huskies #paige x azzi #azzi fudd #ncaa women’s basketball #paige bueckers fic #wlw

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wrongdodo · 3 days

Text

Fractured

Pairing: M!Whitney! x AFAB!Reader (reader wears a skirt)

Genre: 18+ let’s call it “porn with plot” this time.

Warnings: Unprotected sex

Word count: 1771

Summary: You visit Whitney, who’s in hospital with a broken leg. Only the company of his favourite slut can lift his sad little spirit.

A/N: It I had so much fun writing this silly idea. Just enjoy writing this total dickhead.

It’s a Wednesday afternoon, and it’s raining again. Usually, that’s exciting.

Because usually, wet weather means bothering Whitney in the park - but today, your plans are different. After an uneventful bus ride, you alight on Nightingale Street. It’s not particularly late, but the sky is full of dark storm clouds. Headlights from passing cars reflect softly off puddles on the pavement. The intimidating hospital building stands before you – towering and clinical, windows illuminated against an otherwise featureless concrete exterior.

You weren’t bothering Whitney at the park because Whitney wasn’t at the park. He was here; Ward 5 Room 12 to be exact. He hadn’t shown up to school on Monday, which was only a little unusual. It wasn’t until yesterday evening he’d finally replied to your messages – by then you’d already heard the story from his friends. Well, you’d heard the version they’d given, which painted Whitney as some kind of daredevil superhero.

It's a short journey from the foyer to the lift; you punch in the required floor and make your way through an echoey, beige corridor. Pass the nurse’s station, take a left, and through a set of double doors. Somehow, he’d secured a room all to himself – cunning git. There’s no time to wonder how he managed it.

“Fucking finally,” Whitney groans from bed as you enter, rolling his eyes dramatically. Clearly, he’s tired – he looks pale in the artificial light, and there’s a little puffiness beneath his eyes. But he’s smiling. You idly wonder if you’ve ever seen him look more pleased to see you.

There’s a small bedside table, covered in chewing gum wrappers. An untouched bottle of orange juice, and a half-empty bottle of sports drink. Whitney lays on top of the sheets, wearing a loose t-shirt and grey shorts. His right leg is elevated by several pillows – a large plaster cast covering everything between his toes and upper thigh. You don’t know much about broken bones, but even to your untrained eye it looks pretty serious.

“What have you been doing?” you chastise, slinging your bag on the floor and settling on a nearby chair. You already know, of course – fucking around on a roof on Harvest Street last Sunday night after too many drinks. He blamed you, obviously – if you’d joined him at the pub, this allegedly never would have happened.

“Compound fracture. Bone sticking out and everything - super fucked up. Wanna see?” Without waiting for a response, Whitney grabs his phone. Because who wouldn’t want to see that? He was grinning almost proudly.

“No, that’s okay…” you assure him. There’s a brief pause as he shrugs, sliding his phone back under the pillow. “Are you okay? Heard you had surgery…”

“Yeah, it’s full of metal now. I’ll have a fucking massive scar,” His fingers run the length of his cast, showing just how massive the scar was likely to be. You noticed how badly his fingernails had been bitten. Of course – no smoking in hospital.

You chat. Whitney manages to shuffle up a little, insisting you join him on the tiny bed – so you perch on the edge. It creaks in protest of your combined weight. You tell him about the general comings and goings of the school week so far – things he’d never usually give a shit about, and didn’t particularly seem to give any more of a shit about right now. You casually mention how you’d never seen River look so relaxed.

“Yeah, well, they’re letting me out real soon, so you tell River not to relax too much,” he was trying to sound confident, but you weren’t sure Whitney would be back on his feet as soon as he was suggesting.

As the conversation dies down, he rests his head sleepily on your shoulder. Neither of you seem to mind the comfortable silence. You consider how tired and miserable he looks, now boredly scrolling on his phone under the fluorescent lighting.

“You… had many visitors?” you ask, running fingers through his hair. He allows it.

Whitney nods, but you’re not convinced. He wraps an arm around you awkwardly – he can’t move very much which makes cuddling difficult, but you make it work. “You’re my first slut-visitor, though,” he mutters softly.

Then, phone abandoned, he turns towards you with sudden liveliness. “C’mere, I wanna fuck around with you…” he mumbles, trying to pull you closer. Whitney would die before admitting it, but it’s clear he’s missed you - quite a bit. Sighing dramatically, just to wind him up, you crawl onto the bed and press a kiss to his bitten lips. He’s minty. You don’t even notice the muddy marks your wet footwear leaves on the sheets. It’s pretty surprising that he does, though.

“Shoes off, slut,” he scolds with a mock-gasp – it’s clear Whitney doesn’t really care, judging by his dumb smirk, but he’ll never miss an opportunity to tease you. “Who fucking raised you?” In the time it takes to shoot Whitney a sour glare, he seems to remember exactly who raised you. “Oh, my bad,” he laughs.

Kicking your shoes onto the floor, you climb over to return to the kiss. It’s comforting and familiar. As his tongue slides past your lips, your hands instinctively wander, delicately tracing what can only be the upper edge of his cast. Wait… “You’re already hard?”

Instantly, Whitney’s defensive – maybe even a little embarrassed. “What do you fucking expect? Fucking WIFI here blocks everything... I’m dying, slut!” he snaps dramatically. Then, just as quickly, he’s clingy and beggy, pulling you closer. “Come on, get on top…”

He’s pathetic, but somehow it makes him even harder to resist. Summoning every ounce of poise and bracing against his chest for balance, you straddle his middle, taking care not to knock his bad leg in the process. But the thin, foam mattress bends in a way you weren’t quite expecting – your knee bumps his cast slightly.

“Fuck,“ Whitney hisses. You freeze like a startled deer, not daring to breathe. He softens. “Just… be careful, alright?”

But it’s difficult. You don’t want to hurt him – he’s pitiful enough without you causing any further damage. “It’s just not gonna work, Whit,” you sigh, frustrated. “I could suck you off?”

But he grabs your hips, pulling you down against his erection – grinning, tongue-between-his-teeth, with a much more familiar gleam in his eyes.

“Stay put, slut,” And you notice his jaw steel in determination. “I can do it.”

Bravely, or stupidly, Whitney repositions, slithering awkwardly down the bed, his t-shirt riding up a little in the process. If it causes any pain, he does a good job hiding it. Then, in a familiar, practiced motion he frees his cock from the loose confines of his shorts. You’re lucky he has the presence of mind to slick a single gob of spit over his length; a necessity rather than any consideration for your comfort. With his other hand, he’s reaching under your skirt to pull your underwear to the side. His gentle hiss of pleasure as he slides inside is apparently all the foreplay you’re getting today.

He’s inside you, but… you don’t dare move, and it’s pretty clear that Whitney is more-or-less immobile too. So, you sit on his cock – realising that any fucking that takes place will be squarely down to you. His arms flail impatiently.

“Crack on then, slut.”

If Whitney notices your eyes rolling, he lets it slide. So, you begin moving up and down his length, just kinda… jacking him off with your hole. It surprises you when his hand gently clasps yours, thumb gently rubbing in appreciation. It’s rare for Whitney to be sweet – and even rarer for him to be so fucking still. You really aren’t sure if you’ll be able to ride him hard enough – too nervous to cause any further injury. It was no secret Whitney usually enjoyed a pretty severe pace. This was steady and gentle… but in fairness, it was beginning to feel pretty good.

Eventually, you tune out the repetitive, irritating squeak of the hospital bed, settling into a rhythm. It’s not long before you notice the early signs of climax sparking in your belly – something that felt impossible at the start. He’s got to have noticed the way you’re beginning to tighten and squeeze his cock, punctuating each determined fuck. You hum in response to Whitney’s silent encouragement as he guides your hips in sustained rhythm.

It’s not long before you’re lost in it – eyes fluttered closed, alternating between greedily rising and falling on the length his cock and grinding yourself hungrily against his base. You gnaw your bottom lip. It’s getting hard to focus – especially when he starts thrumming your clit with spit-slickened fingers.

“Ride that dick, slut.”

Your eyes pop open – it’s almost unfair how he can tip you with just his fucking words, and the smirk on his face tells you he knows exactly what he’s doing. When it hits you, it’s like the orgasm snaps you in half – doubling you over to bury your face in Whitney’s neck, quaking and creaming on his cock. He smells like antiseptic and fresh sweat.

“Don’t fucking stop,” he warns - hoarse and urgent against your ear. In a more attentive state, you might have wondered; has he found a comfortable rhythm, or is he just fucking through the discomfort in his broken body? Either way, he’s doing an excellent job of rutting your cunt, it’s oversensitive walls slick and squeezing as he chases his own climax.

You’re pulled tight against Whitney, and he fills you up - cock twitching and breath heavy against your ear, arms crushing your body into his heaving chest. It’s several delicious seconds before he loosens his grip, and you sit up. He’s already grinning smugly.

“Told you I could do it,” he teases. Fair.

There’s no graceful way to lift yourself off him – regardless of his broken leg, you’re so filled with cum it’s… unreasonable. You imagine his load drizzling out of you, pooling darkly on Whitney’s grey shorts. No, much easier to stay put than deal with that mess, at least for now. It’s not like you have anywhere better to be, right slut?

There’s a sudden click, alerting you to the door and causing your head to whip round. Through the small, frosted window, you see a uniformed figure making a very quick exit.

“Nurse,” Whitney explains, completely unbothered. “Probably bringing painkillers or some shit,” he folds his arms behind his head, a relaxed gesture. “You shoulda seen her face though...”

Fucking lovely, you think to yourself. Can’t wait to pass her on the way out.

#dol whitney #whitney the bully #dol #whitney x reader #dol fanfic #degrees of lewdity smut #degrees of lewdity #dol smut

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dira333 · 3 days

Text

Who's gonna break my heart - Daishou Suguru x Reader

Friends to Strangers to Lovers - Title inspired by my current dopamine song "Dangerously Anxious" by MUNN

Words: over 8k so pace yourself

- 18/17

You know something’s up when Suguru enters the gym with a girl. He’s already late, but the girl’s not wearing any gym clothes. So not a new manager.

She’s one year above you and you’ve seen her around. Yamanaka Mika or something. She’s cute and bile rises up your throat at that thought. No.

“Guys,” Suguru’s grin is genuine, playful, a little proud even, “I want you to meet someone. This is Mika, my girlfriend.”

Sō immediately stands guard beside you. He’s the libero and the second-closest friend you have on this team. Well, he might get bumped up as of today.

“Mika, this is the team.” He introduces them by name and the first-years blush under his praise. The third-years are not impressed, hitting him back with sly remarks that have Suguru blush instead.

Finally, he ends with you.

“And this is my best friend from childhood. I told you about her,” he introduces you and you have to fight everything in you not to snarl at him. Instead, you offer Mika your hand to shake, boiling inside.

She stays around to watch. You keep your distance.

When the first break runs around and you start handing out water bottles she slinks up beside you, asking for Suguru’s. You’re more than glad you don’t have to give it to him, couldn’t stand the risk of touching him right now.

You manage not to talk to him about anything other than volleyball until training ends.

He leaves quickly, aiming to walk Mika home. You stay behind.

“You okay?” Sō asks quietly as you gather your things.

“Mhm,” you nod, “Just peachy. Thanks for asking.”

“I don’t like her,” he promises and you snort. “You don’t have to. If he wants to get himself a girlfriend, that has nothing to do with me. She might be nice, you know. It’s not her fault he’s the way he is.”

Sō nods, but he doesn’t seem convinced. He asks if you want to walk home together but you decline. The quiet will do you good.

- 5/4

“Well, you stink,” Daishou declares with an air of finality. He’s small for a five year old, you’re almost the same height.

You don’t blink. He starts to grow anxious, his legs twiddling as if he has to pee.

“Why aren’t you crying?” He asks, clearly annoyed you don’t react like anyone else he’s met before.

“I was waiting if you’d come up with something better,” you say, “But I should have known you don’t have any good ideas.”

“Hey!” He yelps, “That’s not fair! That was a good insult!”

You snort and his lip starts to quiver.

“No way,” someone whispers behind you, “Is Daishou going to cry? What a whimp.”

“I’m not a whimp!” Daishou declares, eyes already reddening. “Take that back.”

You turn your best lazy stare at the person who had muttered that insult. In less than a second he backs away. You might not be a pretty little girl like your mother wanted, but you know how to keep the boys at bay.

“Come,” you take Daishou’s hand and pull him toward the far edge of the playground, “I’m gonna teach you some cool insults.”

- 18/17

“What do you want?” You ask instead of a greeting. Suguru snorts into the phone.

“Wow, what hellhole did you crawl out today?”

“It’s called a period, thank you very much.” That’s a lie. But he doesn’t like that topic, so it’s always safe.

“Whatever,” he grunts, “I just wanted to ask what you think about Mika.”

“I’m not into her if that’s what you’re asking.”

He gasps before laughing. “That’s not what I meant and you know it.”

“How did that even happen?” You ask, hoping against hope that he doesn’t hear the despair lacing your voice. He needs to believe you don’t care. “Did you pay her to do it?”

“Excuse me?!” Suguru’s affronted. “I don’t have to pay girls- You know I could-” He sighs before starting anew. “She asked me out. Can you believe it? I never had a cute girl like me before.”

That stings. But, you try to comfort yourself, he doesn’t know you like him. So maybe you’re still a cute girl in his head. Just not one he’s interested in.

“Miracles happen every day,” you tell him, working around the clog in your throat, “But I need to get going, okay? I still have homework to do.”

“Oh, okay, sure. I’ll see you in the morning. We can walk to school.”

“Yeah, okay.” You hope he forgets.

He doesn’t.

Suguru’s always been touchy. He was the kid who sat on his mother's lap until she pushed him off and though he made you swear on your life that it didn’t happen, he used to be the one grabbing your hand on the way home from kindergarten.

And it used to be your thing.

How he pulls on your arm when he’s excited or slings his arm around your shoulders, shaking you. How he presses his face against yours, eye against eye, to make sure you really got his joke.

But you can’t help but feel sick now, at the thought of it. Because it doesn’t mean what you thought it meant. And he’s probably going to do it with Mika now.

“Hey,” he pulls on your backpack as a greeting, dragging ice-cold fingertips along your neck. You shiver and he shows a wicked grin. “Still cranky?”

“Was I ever?” You snap back and he cocks his head, tongue slipping out as he musters you. It’s adorable and you hate yourself for thinking so.

“You wanna get chocolate milkshakes after school?”

“I’m fine,” you point out. “And you’re going to walk Mika home, right?”

“Are you jealous?” He asks and your heart stops for a painful moment until he laughs. “Come on, we’ve been best friends forever. I’m sure she’d like some Milkshakes too.”

And it’s like that, for days, and weeks on end.

Everything you used to do together is now something you have to share with Mika.

Until she breaks up with him.

- 9/8

“Can we play family?” You ask, a bit more confident in the coziness of your own bedroom. Your parents make more money than Suguru’s, you can tell. It’s no surprise he likes hanging out at your place more. You prefer it the other way, like the warmth of their kitchen and the noise, always someone around to talk. You like his older sister who teases him relentlessly and his mother who always calls you cute.

But you’ve got better toys so you’re hanging out at your place. And since it’s your place, you call the shots.

“Again?” He asks, but already picks up the Squishmallow you usually use as a kid. You own two and the other one’s sitting next to your bedroom door, playing dog.

“Today,” you declare your newest idea proudly, “I’m going to make a lot of money. I work in finance, like my dad.”

Suguru nods, gently nursing the Squishmallow kid in his arms. “Should I stay home with the kid then?��

“Yeah,” you nod, “You could make some dinner for when I come home. Do you want to have a Hobby, like Mom?”

“Oh yeah,” he grins, “I’m going to be a famous volleyball player on the side. They only have to train and win games, so I have more then enough time to care for our kid and the dog. Do we have a daughter or a son?”

“I don’t know. What do you want?”

“I want a daughter,” he lifts her up, squinting as if he can see a real kid in the soft pink plush. “And she looks like you.”

- 18/17

It’s Sō who tells you. He happened to walk past them on the way to training, couldn’t help but overhear.

“You’re such a bore, all you ever do is focus on club activities,” Sō repeats before you can stop him.

He opens his mouth to ask, but the gym doors open. Suguru looks positively mad.

“What are you doing?” He asks Sō, voice sharp. “This is supposed to be training. Start running!” He turns to you but you don’t even let him open his mouth.

“Suguru,” your voice is cold, clear and cuts through him like always. “Can I talk to you outside for a second?”

He huffs. “What if I don’t want to?”

“Then I’ll have to ask Coach to tell you to talk to me. You want that?”

“No,” he snarls, turning back to where he came from. “Hurry up, I want to train.”

“Warn the others,” you whisper in Sō’s direction and follow Suguru outside.

There’s a group of trees not far from the Gym that’s pretty much secluded.

Suguru swings as if to punch one of the trees but you’re faster, grabbing his elbow and pulling back.

“We still need your hands,” you huff, “Keep it together.”

“I don’t want-”

“I know,” you pull him in, hug him as tight as he allows. “I know.”

You don’t know how long you’re standing like this, Suguru trembling like a leaf. He’s always been a crybaby, even if he’s a little ashamed to admit it.

“Want me to egg her house?” You ask, wishing that just once he’d hug you back.

“No, that’s stupid.”

“I could put eggs into her shoes,” you point out. “Like I did with that girl that bullied you in Junior High.”

He snorts wetly. “That was amazing, but no, I don’t… I just wanted her to like me.” His face is pressed against your shoulder now and you can feel his mouth move against the fabric of your shirt when he talks.

“Maybe I should quit Volleyball.”

“Because some girl told you it was boring? Suguru, you’re better than that.”

“Mika’s not just some girl.”

You swallow thickly, unable to snap back for the first time since you can remember.

If only he’d say such things about you too.

“Well,” You manage after a while, “You’ll just have to win Nationals then. Show her what you’re made of.”

“Yeah,” he nods and pulls back, your sign to let go. “You’re right.”

He wipes his eyes and tries a shaky smile.

“Let’s beat Nekoma to a pulp.”

You roll your eyes. “You and that team. But if it makes you happy, we will.”

- 13/12

“Have you kissed somebody yet?” Suguru asks.

It’s a nice day out and you’re using your huge garden for Volleyball practice.

You don’t like playing it that much, but since Suguru doesn’t have that many male friends to play with, you don’t mind helping him out.

“No, you?”

“No.”

You wait, knowing he’ll eventually explain himself.

“Haizaki said it’s lame if you haven’t kissed anyone yet,” Suguru explains and leaps into the air to spike a ball.

You receive it, albeit a bit clumsily, and the ball tapers off into the shrubbery to your left.

“I told him that I kissed you,” he says instead of moving, and since you don’t really like Volleyball all that much you stay where you are. You have to move enough as it is already.

“Oh?”

“Yeah,” Suguru’s glaring at the shrubbery now. “Haizaki didn’t believe me at first. I showed him that picture from the festival last year. Now he thinks you’re too cute to be kissing me.”

You snort and drop to the floor, too lazy to keep standing. “Did you tell him how I bit your chin when you tried to put your arm around my shoulder for that picture.”

“No,” now he’s the one snorting. “But I should have.”

“Mhm.”

“Do you wanna kiss?”

You knew that question would come. Still, you don’t really have an answer to it.

You put your head on your knees and pear up at him, blinking through your eyelashes until he blurs into a shapeless blob.

You don’t really care about kissing. Or boys. There’s no one in your life that’s as close to you as Suguru is. You’re friendly with your classmates, but most of what they want to talk about is boring.

Maybe you don’t want to kiss. Or think about it. But Suguru wants it. So you can at least try, right?

“Fine,” you stretch out your hands, ask him to pull you up. As soon as you’re standing you press your lips to his.

It’s awkward, and not at all nice. His mouth is slightly open, a little wet with saliva or maybe sweat and his nose bumps almost painfully into yours.

Suguru squeaks as you move away, grabbing your hands to pull you back in. This time your teeth knock against each other and it hurts even more.

“Maybe,” you say, your face pressed against his shoulder when he’s still not letting you go, “Haizaki also never kissed a girl. Maybe it’s totally overrated and disgusting but he just thought you’d believe him.”

“You think?” Suguru asks, clearly downfallen by this failure. He always just wants to be cool.

“Yeah, you just need to be really confident when you tell him that you’re not interested in that. You know? Like, tell the class that Haizaki’s so bad in school because all he thinks about are girls. If you sound like you mean it, everyone will gang up on Haizaki. I do that too and it works all the time.”

His arms, clammy with sweat, loosen their hold on you. His adams apple is bobbing up and down as he steps back.

“Yeah, you’re probably right,” he says, voice still a little unsure, “Can we… can we play some more volleyball?”

“If we must,” you groan and his smile flickers back to life, this mischievous teasing thing you’ve grown fond of.

He pinches your side and moves toward the shrubbery.

“Fifty receives or you don’t get any ice-cream.”

“This is my house, you know!”

- 18/17

“Can I talk to you for a second?”

Sō’s eyebrows shoot up but you remain calm.

“Of course,” you say, following Mika out of your classroom and down the hallway into an empty classroom. You think this one’s reserved for Music Club.

“I wanted to ask,” she looks nervously to the side before continuing, “if you and Suguru… Are you… dating?”

You allow Silence to settle before you answer. The question hurts you just as much as it might hurt her to ask and if you can make her suffer a little longer, you will.

“No.”

“Oh,” she looks like she expected a different answer, as if she’s not sure where to go from here.

“Is there anything else?”

“Yes!” She surges forward, boxing you in. “I… I want to apologize.”

“For what?”

“For breaking up.”

“You’re talking to the wrong person then.”

She huffs, crossing her arms now. “Could you be any less helpful?”

“What do you want me to do?” You snap, losing the small of patience you had.

She slinks back, shrinking into herself. “I just… I kinda think it was a stupid decision. But I don’t know. Do you think Suguru liked me? Like, really liked me? You’re his best friend.”

“I don’t know,” you offer helpfully, “I’ve never been in a relationship. I don’t know what really liking someone means.”

And you’re being honest this time, even if she might not believe you. You only know that Suguru doesn’t really like you like that.

“Kaya… my friend… she said that maybe you’re into him and that’s why we broke up.”

You straighten, hands balled to fists.

“You broke up with him,” you hiss, “Don’t you dare pin this on him.”

“I know!” Mika howls, clearly exasperated now. “I know! I don’t know what I’m supposed to be doing. That’s why I’m asking you for advice!”

You stiffen, turn toward the window. You can think better when you’re not looking at her, when you can pretend she’s not looking at you.

If someone asks you about this, if someone ever dares to question it, you will deny it with everything you’ve got, but you can’t… you just can’t-

“Just come to our next game,” you tell her, voice tired. “We’re playing against Nekoma for the Qualifiers. He hates that team. You can decide there how you want to go on.” You turn and move for the door. But something just needs to be said, even if you don’t want to speak it into existence.

“And he’s not into me. Suguru, I mean. We’re friends. I just don’t have that many and I’m not used to sharing, that’s all.”

You leave her standing there, don’t turn back to look.

Instead, you go straight to the school nurse, wait until she calls your mum to come and pick you up.

You feel sick to your stomach and even though the Congee she cooks does little to soothe that kind of hurt, you don’t argue against it.

Mika doesn’t ask to speak to you again.

But she’s at your match against Nekoma, you can spot her in the crowd. When she approaches the team after your loss you’re glad that the team moves away in unison.

You don’t want to be there when it happens.

“Maybe you should date someone too,” Sō offers. He’s remarkably calm about their loss. “Kuguri and you are quite similar. You could get along.”

“What?” Kuguri turns to look at you, “I heard my name.”

“You have ears,” you praise him, “Good job.”

He scowls and turns away again.

You close your eyes, lean your back against the wall.

“I think I’m going to focus on school work,” you admit, “Leave the Club.”

Takachiho gasps. “Leave the Club? You?”

“What?” You scowl, “Like you care. You’re leaving this year anyway.”

“Yeah, but the Club needs you!” Seguro sidles up to you, “You’re our Manager.”

“Like you can’t fill your water bottles without me,” you snarl.

“I bet,” Numai mutters darkly, rubbing his chin, “If you’d get your ass on it, you could turn this team around.”

“Is that a dare?” You ask, stepping up to him. “Do you really think you can dare me to do better?”

“Absolutely! I bet you could get rid of these cheap tactics and get us to Nationals without Suguru interfering.”

Hiroo snorts. “You do know, Numai, that our dear Manager is worse than our Captain when it comes to trashtalking, right?”

Your smile grows as Numai’s flickers and fades.

“But,” he starts just as someone clears his throat behind you.

“Something going on?” Suguru asks.

Looking at him feels like a punch to the throat. You can tell that he’s happy without him having to say it. Mika’s nowhere to be seen but it still feels as if she’s wrapped around him.

The team lunges forward.

If anyone notices that you’re not taking part in their playful attack, they don’t address it.

You sneak away undisturbed.

Seguro’s named Captain a few days later.

Mika must have talked to Suguru because he’s not dragging you with them anymore. And while you had thought that there could be nothing worse than being the third wheel on one of their dates, being forgotten is so so so much worse.

School is boring you. Training is torture. You need something to occupy your mind.

- 18/17

“All alone?” Someone settles heavily on the chair next to you.

You don’t have to look up. You’d know that honeysmoothed voice anywhere.

“Not interested, roosterhead.”

Kuroo chuckles softly. “Don’t bite, Snakelet. I just want to make some friendly conversation.”

“Sure, sure. So you’re not here to scope out the competition?” You don’t take your eyes off the game.

Below your seats the game is reaching it’s Finale.

“Which one do you want?” Kuroo asks, mouth so close to your ear his breathe washes over your face. You don’t flinch.

“If I had to guess you want the Captain. He’s got an amazing defense. And with your stupid First-Year you’ll need some good defense.”

“Now now, don’t insult Lev like that.” Kuroo stretches, yawns and rests his arm on your shoulder. “He’s even dumber than you make him out to be.”

You can’t help but laugh at that comment. At least he’s self-aware.

“Go on,” you nudge your elbow into his side, “Tell me who I’m picking.”

“You want both Outside Hitters. They are both tall, broad shouldered and have a lot of energy and drive, so you think that would balance out your lethargic teammates. But that’s a risky move. One of them moves like he’s chugged ten cans of Monster before the game and the other feels like this game is the beginning of his murder-spree.”

“I need someone with Stamina,” you agree, “If I can get both of them, I will. If I can get only one of them, I’ll take Mr. Murderspree.”

“Good.” Kuroo grins. “I don’t want our games to get boring.”

You roll your eyes. “They’re not our games, Roosterhead. You’re graduating.”

“Ah,” he pinches your chin. “But I’m still watching, you know. From the shadows.”

You snort. “Sure. If that gives you closure.” You get up. “You can stay here if you want, I need to get going. First one to get a student to sign on your team wins.”

“Loser pays the drinks,” he calls after you.

You’re not sure how it happened or when. You don’t even know what to call this.

Suguru is your best friend, so Kuroo can’t be it. Kuroo is Suguru’s enemy and you’re pretty sure you don’t feel the same way about him, so he can’t be that either.

You’d call him an annoying cousin you’re not related to if these conversations wouldn’t sound so much like flirting nowadays.

In some weird way you think he understands you, or at least how your brain works. He’s pointed out, often enough to remember, that you remind him of Kenma.

And you’d argue against it, but he’s never once insulted Suguru in front of you. Talking shit about Kenma feels like disrespecting that truce. Even if you feel a lot smarter than a guy who’s cosplaying a bowl of pudding.

“Congratulations,” Kuroo sets your coffee down in front of you before taking a seat, “Both Outside Hitters and the Setter, I’m impressed.”

“He’s more of a glorified Pinch Server, but thank you.” You drag your spoon through the foam in your cup, destroying the artwork the barista created. You’re not in the mood for little foam hearts today. “How’s your new Captain doing?”

“Terrible, but that’s to be expected.”

“Same.” You let your eyes wander through the café only to get caught on something outside. You know that jacket, that haircut, that smi-

“Everything okay?” Kuroo peers down at you.

“Dropped my earring,” you claim, patting the floor. Outside Suguru kisses Mika goodbye and turns with one last wave of his arm before jogging of.

You get back into your seat, ignore the amused twinkle in Kuroo’s eyes and dare to think that you’ve got out of this alive - until someone appears next to you.

“Oh, hi!” Mika blinks with a smile, “Suguru just left, what a surprise! I haven’t seen you in a while.”

“Likewise,” you press out.

“Hi, I’m Kuroo,” Kuroo offers her his hand, “You’re Daishou’s girlfriend, right?”

“Yeah,” her smile brightens, “I’m sorry, I don’t know you, are you from Nohebi?”

“No,” he shakes his head, but doesn’t disclose his own school. You don’t flatter yourself with thinking it’s because of your glaring. “Just visiting a friend.”

“Oh,” Mika rests a hand on her chest, “Sorry, I didn’t know- of course, I’ll leave you to it.” She all but flutters away. You want to leave.

Kuroo, however, leans over the table, grinning like the literal Chesire Cat.

“She thinks we’re dating.”

“I don’t care what she thinks,” you snarl.

“Oh?” His eyebrows lift to where you can’t see them. “Ohoh?”

“Not like that,” you groan, “Get your head out of the gutter.”

“What? I could date you,” he twirls his spoon between his fingers, “Don’t all girls want an older boyfriend?”

“I think it’s more about wanting a smarter boyfriend,” you point out, “So I doubt we’d fit that scheme.”

“You wound me,” he huffs playfully, “But if you ever want to make someone jealous you can call me up anytime.”

“Thanks, I already hate that idea.”

- 18/17

It’s a shame you cannot skip graduation.

It’s not even your own but you know Suguru would never let you live it down.

So you force yourself to smile in every picture, pretending you don’t see the second button of his blazer missing.

Ever since Kindergarten he’s been one year above you. Ever since Kindergarten, you went out for ice cream afterwards, you paying for his on his graduation and him paying for yours the next year.

This year he asks if he can bring Mika along. You pay for him, he pays for her and when it’s time for you to pick your own ice cream all you want to do is go home and sleep.

But you can’t, so you pick the first flavor you see, not wanting to ruin the taste of your favorite ice cream with this awful memory.

“This is a cute spot,” Mika announces when you’ve found a spot outside under an oak tree, “We should come here for a date. What do you think?” She addresses you all of a sudden, “We could do a double date.”

Suguru chokes on his ice cream.

“Double date?” He asks. “Is there something I don’t know?”

Mika’s eyes widen. “Oh, was it a secret?”

“No,” you grind through your teeth, “It’s not a secret because I don’t have a boyfriend. Or date anyone. I just met someone I know while I was scouting new players.”

“Who?” He asks, brows furrowed.

“He’s got dark hair,” Mika explains, “Kinda messy like Kuguri-”

“Kuroo?” Suguru bristles, eyes turning wide. “You went out with Kuroo?”

Something turns to ice inside you.

“Yes,” you say, “I went out with him. Who cares?”

“He’s-”

“The Ex-Captain of a team that didn’t win Nationals. Wow. How outstanding.”

“My arch-enemy!” Suguru thunders, “And you know that.”

“Please,” you huff, “He barely knows you exist.”

“Take that back!”

“No.”

“I didn’t think-” Mika starts but you shut her up with a glare.

“I don’t butt into your relationship,” you clarify, “So you don’t get to butt into mine.”

“You’re dating-?” Suguru gasps for air, “Kuroo?”

“Does it matter? No. I was here to celebrate your graduation not to discuss my lovelife.”

“If you’re dating Kuroo we can no longer be friends,” Suguru bites out and you nod, get up and throw your ice cream in the trash.

“Fine. If that’s how you want it, I’ll accept. Goodbye.”

You march away, don’t look back. You don’t want Suguru to see that your eyes start to water as the ice inside you slowly melts.

You: If your house gets egged this week, Suguru thinks we’re dating.

Roosterhead: Oh? Buy me Dinner first.

You: I’m not dating you.

Roosterhead: I’m heartbroken. You good though?

You: I will be after we demolish Nekoma.

Roosterhead: Looking forward to you trying.

- 19/18

Seguro and Yamamoto are shaking hands but all you care about are the glowing eyes of their setter who rest on you, unblinking.

You’ve lost this time, but you’re not giving up. It’s only a Training Match after all and as soon as you’ve figured out how to balance out your team, you’ll be fine.

Still, it sucks that you’ve lost to Kenma. Of all people.

“Hey,” Sō nudges you with his elbow, nodding toward the door. “We’ve got a visitor.”

He didn’t need to tell you. You spotted Suguru half an hour ago but decided to ignore him.

The last two months have been filled with somewhat strained communication, mostly held up by Mika who’s trying her best to mend a friendship you no longer believe in.

He’s chosen Mika over you. You’ll be able to live with that, someday.

“Hey,” someone else speaks up from your other side. You turn to Kenma, who’s looking the other way.

“Yeah?”

“Kuroo mentioned something… about you…”

“So?”

He huffs. “I think I have an idea you’d be interested in.”

You’ll never admit that you only agree to buy into Bouncing Ball Corp because Suguru is watching you, but in all honesty, you’d probably agree to selling fridges in the arctic if it buys you a few more minutes away from him.

It doesn’t matter in the end. He stays until everyone else has left, hands buried in his pockets, nodding at the players that know him, rolling his eyes at those who don’t.

“What’s going on?” You ask when you’ve run out of reasons to avoid him, the gym empty besides the two of you.

“Can’t I come see my best friend?”

“I don’t know, are they in the room with us?”

He huffs.

“I mean you.”

“Could have fooled me.”

You turn away, take a few steps just to put space where there used to be none.

Suguru calls out your name. There’s something in his voice, a softer, more vulnerable tone, that makes you turn around. His shoulders are down and he’s staring at the ground and you know, just by looking at him, that he lost.

You don’t know if it’s a game or a thing, a person or an idea, but there’s something to it, the fact that he comes to you for comfort, that soothes some of the hurt.

“What did you do now, you fool?” You ask and maybe there’s something in your voice too, because he takes a few steps and pulls you in, rests his head against your shoulder where no one can see if he cries or not.

“Coach kicked me off the starting Line-Up,” he admits, “I’m just a pinch server.”

“So?” You ask, “You were a Pinch Server when you started at Nohebi. Those things take time.”

“Yeah,” he croaks, “But I also failed my first exam.”

“Mhm,” you hum, “Math?”

“Yeah.”

“What else?”

He huffs. “Who says-”

“What else, Suguru?”

“I can’t get a job. Like, I’ve tried but the only shops that might take me are the fast food joints around College and the hours there are terrible. And I need to train.”

You sigh. He hasn’t changed at all.

“Have you talked to Mika about it?” You ask and you know your voice sounds a little condescending right now, but he deserves it, right?

“No.”

“Why not?”

“I don’t want her to know,” he huffs, tensing as you try to push him away. “Please?”

“I’m not your manager any longer,” you point out. “You’re old enough to get yourself out of the mess you got yourself into. I’m not here to-”

“Please,” he repeats, but there’s a different tone to it now, “This is not why I came, okay? I just… you always know- Ugh, you just understand me, okay? I need to talk to someone who understands. Please?”

“Fine,” you let your bag slip from your shoulder, “You carry my bag and I’ll listen.”

And it’s a tale as old as time, you think, as you walk next to him, almost knocking your hip into his from.

Suguru’s not stupid. He just gets too much in his head about how things should be like until he can no longer see the big picture. And as much as he enjoys dishing out, he cannot take a hit for the life of him.

“So?” You ask when you reach the cross roads that separate your houses, “Feeling better?”

“Yeah,” he nods, “I- I wanted to say… If you want to date Kuroo, that’s fine.”

You balk. “What?”

“Yeah,” he grimaces, “I mean, I don’t like him, but if you think he’s decent enough…”

“I’m not dating him.”

“Kenma then?”

“Just shut up, okay?” You snarl. “It doesn’t matter. I’m not- I don’t care- You know, let’s just say you won’t mind and forget about this, okay?”

“No,” he shakes his head, “I want to talk about this. You’re my best friend. I’m sorry I neglected you. You’re doing a good job with the team, better than I did when I was Captain last year. And Mika… she’s sorry too. This is my idea, coming here and talking to you, but I know she feels bad too. She’s just… I think she got a little excited at the idea of us going on double dates. But it wasn’t right putting it out like that.”

“It doesn’t matter,” you repeat, too stubborn to give in, “But I appreciate it. What are you going to do now?”

“Oh, study for math, keep looking for jobs,” he huffs, dragging his hands through his hair.

“I meant today,” you snort and he blushes awkwardly.

“Then say it like that, idiot. You wanna play some volleyball? I have the time.”

“No,” you shake your head, “But I could use some math practice.”

- 19/18

It’s weird, still.

Suguru makes an effort to come over once a week. It helps that you can give him pointers in his math studies, but it’s not the way it was before.

He’s too touchy for a guy with a girlfriend. And though you’ve got your heart on a tight leash you can tell it’s much too easy to get lost in this until something reminds you of the truth.

So you do what everyone would do in your situation.

You ask Kuguri out.

It goes about as well as one would expect.

Sure, you could ask Kuroo. You’re pretty sure he’d do it, but you don’t want to ruin a perfectly fine friendship - if you could call it that.

Soon matches and exams turn up back to back and all you see of Suguru are the short messages he sends whenever he remembers.

He doesn’t forget your graduation, but ice cream just doesn’t taste the same way it used to.

You wish you could have stopped this ritual when it was still fun.

- 20/19

If someone would ask you for the name of your best friend, you’re no longer sure what you’d answer.

There’s Suguru, who you rarely talk to, yet know better than yourself most days.

There’s Sō, who’s taking the same Classes as you, who you’ve shared quite a few wins and failures with since attending Nohebi.

And then there’s Kuroo, who’s an absolute pain in the ass, but at least he’s reliable.

“I want to get paid for this,” you tell him when you hand over the CD. “I spent a while analyzing all that footage.”

“Ah, you love doing it,” Kuroo teases, moving to ruffle your hair, “Besides you always bet on Bokuto. I’m just helping you get your money through that.”

“I do not,” you grind through your teeth. You hate him sometimes.

“Do to,” he jokes, turning when something catches your attention. “The Barista has the hots for you.”

You snort. “Yeah, sure.”

“Absolutely.” Kuroo gestures with his hands before grinning. “See? He wants your number.”

“What?” You squeak, turning to look for yourself. The guy isn’t bad-looking at all. Maybe a bit less athletic than you’re used to. And he’s waving at you, gesturing in a way that can really only mean one thing.

“Well, I’m not giving it to him.”

“Why not?” Kuroo leans back, eyes twinkling. “Would you rather go out with me? Oh, Snakelet, I’m honored.”

“Fine,” you bite out, “I’ll get his.”

Kuroo’s still grinning when you come back, leaning over the table to look at your phone.

“Ah, so that’s his name. Now, I’m waiting. Text him.”

“Why?”

“Because I won’t believe you otherwise.”

“You’re sick in the head.”

“Mhm, you too. Now chop chop, we don’t have all day.”

If you say that your first relationship only exists because of Kuroo, you mean it.

Moriwaka isn’t all that bad. He might just be exactly what you need.

He studies Psychology, works part-time as a Barista, and collects Star Trek memorabilia, which means you have literally nothing in common and so much more to talk about.

And it’s nice, how he never once asks about Suguru - they’ve only met briefly - or Volleyball - he doesn’t like Sports - or your parents - he’s not into Finance.

He doesn’t push you either.

You don’t like being touched? That’s fine with him, he’s happy sidling up to you on the way to the Cinema - he bought two tickets for the newest Star Trek movie.

All in all, it feels a little more like having a new best friend, just that Moriwaka likes to tell you how good you’re looking every single day.

- 20/19

“I’m going to use the bathroom,” you say, getting up from the Couch.

“I’m pausing the movie,” Moriwaka announces, “This is the best part.”

You’d probably disagree with him if you cared enough, but it’s fine. Star Trek is important to him and he never once complains when you make him rewatch a Volleyball Game.

The doorbell rings just as you close the door behind you.

“That’s probably the Pizza,” he announces. You yawn.

The window doesn’t close properly but you don’t care, no one can see you pee anyway.

“What are you doing here?” Moriwaka’s voice floats up.

“I’m looking for someone.” You freeze, the voice too familiar. What’s Suguru doing here?

He says your name.

“Ah, she’s not here.” You can hear Moriwaka, your heart thumping awkwardly in your chest. Why is Suguru looking for you if he could just call you?

“No, no, I’m sure she’s here.”

“So what? She doesn’t want to see you.”

You fumble the door lock trying to get out. What’s Moriwaka doing?

It doesn’t take long to get out of the apartment and down the stairs, but it feels like half an eternity.

The door is open and you can hear Moriwaka before you can see him.

“I’ve seen your messages,” he announces, voice weirdly cold, “You only call to unload your baggage on her. You’re a pathetic, wet rag of a man.”

“And you’re any better?” Suguru snaps back, “You have no idea what’s between me and-”

“I’m her boyfriend,” Moriwaka announces just as you slide out the door behind him.

Suguru’s face turns perfectly blank at your sight, but Moriwaka isn’t lucky enough to get the hint.

“I’m not allowing you to talk to her.”

“I don’t think that’s your decision,” you tell him coolly.

He turns, surprise evident on his face. But no guilt.

“Listen, I’m just trying to protect you.”

“I don’t need your protection.”

He scoffs. “What? So you’re just going to let him drag you down again? He probably just lost another game. Or his girlfriend ran off or whatever.”

Suguru flinches. The breakup happened a few months ago, but he’s always been bad at taking hits.

“It doesn’t matter,” you tell Moriwaka snidely, “He’s my best friend. You don’t have any say in that.”

“You’re just in love with him,” he spits out, “Right? That’s why you’re pushing me away all the time. You don’t really want to date me, you’re just passing time with me hoping he’ll suddenly turn around and be interested in you.”

Suguru steps forward, fists balled but you’re a little faster, always more inclined to use your tongue instead of your fists.

“Go,” you tell him, your calm facade your biggest weapon, “Your movie’s waiting. I’m sure Captain Whatever has some inspirational quotes for you to flirt with next time.”

Moriwaka huffs, but he’s not dumb enough to take the bait. Or maybe he doesn’t care enough either.

“Go, be unhappy if that’s what you want.” He slams the door shut behind him.

The night is warm, the air around you humid and heavy.

Suguru’s looking up at a nearby street lamp, clearly uncomfortable with the situation.

“You were looking for me?” You ask, not ready to deal with the can of worms Moriwaka just opened.

“Yeah, I…” He clears his throat. “I got… I got a deal. For the Yotsuya Motor Spirits. I know it’s only Division 2 but they’ll let me finish College while I play.”

“Oh, Congratulations,” you step forward, not really sure what you want to do, just knowing that you want to be closer.

“Thanks,” he clears his throat again, “I was… I was talking to my parents about it and when they hung up all I could think about was that I wanted to tell you. We haven’t… we haven’t talked in a while, right?”

“Yeah.” You want to ask him who’s fault that is, but really, isn’t it your fault too? After all you were the one who fell in love in the first place.

“How’d you know I was here?” You ask when he’s fighting for words, tongue slipping out between his lips as he thinks. It’s a habit he’s had since you’ve known him and altough you’ve tried to hate it, it just endears him even more to you.

“Ah,” He drags a hand through the hair at the back of his head, “I was at your place but you weren’t there. And I figured you might be out with friends, but Sō said you’re out with your boyf- some guy but he doesn’t know where that is.”

“So?” You did not miss the way he stumbled over the term boyfriend. Your heart’s beating too fast to be healthy, but there’s a smug grin on Suguru’s face now, a look that tells you this story is going into a different direction now.

“You’ve been posting pictures of your favorite drink lately and there’s only one shop in Tokyo who makes it exactly the way you like it, so I thought I’d try over here. Remembered the dude’s name too, can you believe it?”

You laugh. He’s unbelievable, so proud of himself and his most basic deduction skills.

“You did great,” you tell him, “You wanna talk a walk? I need a bathroom and I’m not going back up there.”

“Oh, yeah, sure.” he ushers you along, “There’s a 7-Eleven down the street.”

And it feels like yesterday, hips almost knocking into each other, walking down the street.

It feels like you’re six years old again and Suguru’s walking you home from school, his hand clutching yours because even though he’s older, he’s a bit more scared of the world.

It feels like you’re thirteen, only beginning to understand that some boys are gross and some boys are cute and why your heart flutters softly when Suguru’s tongue peaks out whenever he’s lost in thought.

It feels like you’re seventeen, heart heavy yet ready to leap, calculating all the ways a confession could go wrong - and the one way it could go right - only to miss your chance.

“He’s right, you know,” Suguru points out in the too bright lights of the store when you come back from the bathroom.

He’s staring at the cut up fruits in the fridge and maybe he’s thinking what to get for a late night smoothie, but maybe he’s thinking the same thing you’re thinking about.

How all 7-Eleven’s are kinda the same and if they are, is this a place out of time? A place you can stay in without getting older, without the consequence of change?

“I really am a pathetic,wet rag of a man.”

“Hmm,” you make, stepping so close to him your shoulder brushes his. If you’d be a little braver, you’d take his hand.

If you could have a chance to get stuck in time, you’d take it if it meant being with him, hands not quite touching, bare faces reflected in the clear doors of an oversized fridge.

“I swear I’m not doing this because I’m lonely,” there’s a wetness to his voice that your ears are used to, grown fond of, even. The back of his pointer finger touches the back of your hand and his skin is warm and a shiver races down your back.

“And I should hate myself for breaking up what you had with that guy, but-”

You want to turn, look directly at him instead of his reflection in the glass, but you’re frozen in place, heart thundering so loud he must be able to hear it.

“I’ve had a crush on you since… since way before I asked to practice kissing. You’re the coolest person I’ve ever known, and I… I’m so tired of pretending that someone else can compare. I’m sorry.” He whispers the last words, hiccups softly when your hand grabs his, squeezes as tight as you can.

You’re going to cry any second, you know, but you don’t want to, even if it’s him you’re with.

You don’t want any tears to blurr your sight when you can look at him, see him, face flushed and eyes watery, all 179,5cm of pathetic, wet rag of a man.

“Do you want to play family?” You ask, voice a little rough, eyes a little watery too. “We can even get a dog.”

He smiles so wide you can barely see his eyes.

But when he leans in and kisses you, nose softly bumping yours and chuckles ringing through the air, you have to disagree with your younger self.

Kissing isn’t overrated at all. If anything, it’s probably underrated.

- 21/20

“Oh no, we have to play against you guys?” Bokuto’s voice’s too loud to ignore even in the bustle of a packed stadion.

Suguru bristles next to you but relaxes a little when your elbow digs into his side.

“Like they’re going to give you any problems,” Kuroo’s voice is smooth and sticky, clinging to your ears like caramel to the teeth. “Right?”

“Kuroo,” Suguru drawls, “You’re here too?”

“Well of course,” his grin reminds you of the famed Chesire Cat and your arm slings around Suguru’s waist, pulling him in.

He stumbles a bit, turning to look at you. Surprise, joy and then deep adoration wash over his face in a way you’ll never grow tired off. Suguru’s hand slides into the back pocket of your jeans and you know, would there be less people around, he’d be kissing you too.

“Aww, cute,” Kuroo sings, “You didn’t hear anything I just said.”

“Should we?” You ask, “If I want to hear an asshole talk I can just fart.”

Suguru snickers even as Bokuto howls in the background, clearly excited to have a new insult to try on someone else.

But Kuroo wouldn’t be Kuroo if you could best him with one lame insult.

“Funny,” he smiles, “You’re managing today too?”

“No,” you shake your head, “Just here for Suguru.”

“And we’re going to win,” Suguru declares, “MSBY has no chance against the Yotsuya Motor Spirits.”

He says it with conviction, but you know the chances of him winning are low. MSBY have been rising to the top ever since they drafted Miya Atsumu right out of highschool. Now they’ve got Bokuto too. If they’d gotten Sakusa Kiyoomi too like they’d been planning for months, you’d bought the consolation cake already but at least he’s insistent on finishing College before he starts playing professionally.

It doesn’t matter, though.

You’re not with Suguru because he’s got the best chance at winning the game and he knows it. And no matter the outcome of this game, there’s already a small velvet box at home that he thinks you don’t know about.

Like he could keep any secrets from you.

- 27/26

“That’s all,” you cut off your assistant’s questioning, “Everything else has to wait until tomorrow.”

“I understand. Have a good evening.”

“You too.” You cut the call and park the car, thinking for the umpteenth time that you need to start looking into the possibility of hiring a driver. Some of these calls get too intense to be held at the wheel of a vehicle.

There’s a Volleyball on the front lawn and a chewed-up dog toy. You drag your keycard through the scanner and stifle a yawn as the door opens.

“I’m home,” you call out over the pitter-patter of feet.

There’s Princess, your husky-mix and Kuroo, the little black Frenchie that his namesake gifted you at your wedding.

“Kitchen!” You hear a voice over the Princess howling. She’s always so excited to have you back home.

“Hey,” you can’t help smiling as you step into the kitchen, both dogs hot on your heels. Suguru’s standing at the stove, Hime tied to his front. Only a tuft of her dark hair is peaking out and you lean in to kiss him first and then the top of her head.

“How was it?” He asks, “Tired?”

“Extremely so, but everything’s going well. Even Dad is impressed. How was your day?”

“Mh, no, you’ve got to tell first,” he insists, pulling you into his side, “Because I wanna hear your voice a bit more before I tell you about the absolutely disgusting diaper change I had to go through today.”

You laugh. “Okay, so you remember Mamushi, our Client?”

“Mamushi with the thick eyebrows or Mamushi who slurps every beverage?”

“Slurper Mamushi.”

“Okay, I’m following.”

“So, this morning I got an email from him where he claims that we’re charging him too much. He gave us two options: Reduce the cost or dismiss the contract altogether.”

“Oh, that’s spicy. What did you do?”

“Well, remember how I had to cut our lunch call short? I met up with him for coffee right after and got down to business and you won’t believe it: he settled on a different contract that actually costs him more but he’s happy with it. Apparently he doesn’t like how it’s done nowadays and the old times were far better.”

“Amazing,” Suguru drops a kiss on your temple, “I would love to see the face of this man when he realizes how stupid he is. You’re a genius.”

You giggle.

“How was your day, then? Apart from the diaper catastrophe?”

“Well, I regret to inform you that Hime already has an admirer. Koji’s head over heels for her. I had to threaten him with bodily harm to get her back.”

“Oh, is that your libero?” You think, “The one with the Iro?”

“Yep, he died it pink last week.”

“Well, pink suggests he’s sensible. If Hime likes him too-”

“Don’t say that!” Suguru’s hands come down to cover Hime’s ears, “My princess isn’t going to date anyone until she’s at least thirty.”

“Mhm,” you lift your eyebrows, “And how are you going to explain to her that we had her way before we turned thirty?”

A blush works its way up his cheeks and you lean forward to sink your teeth into the flushed skin only to press your lips onto it right after.

“Love you,” you tell him, voice a bit raspy with emotion.

Sometimes, in moments like this, you can barely believe that this is how your life played out.

tagging: @lees-chaotic-brain @daisy-room @missalienqueen @marti-mp4 @itsmippe @jus-jazzy @wavesofchaos @moonlit-mizukage

My Kofi if you want to tip me

#my writing #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu fluff #haikyuu x you #haikyuu x y/n #daishou suguru #daishou x reader #daishou fluff #daishou #nohebi #nohebi team

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permanentswaps · 5 hours

Text

The Cursed Hunk, Pt. 3

Read Part 1 and Part 2 by @manswaps

Seth’s POV

Wearing the stranger's body, Jared led us out of the apartment and to a gay club. The city’s neon lights glinted off the wet pavement, and the bass from the club’s music pulsed through the ground, matching the rhythm of my nervous heartbeat.

He explained, "This is the best place in town to find us the hottest guys possible to swap with and fool around with."

“I still don’t see why you can’t just let us swap back to our original bodies first,” I protested, uncomfortable in my dad’s much larger, hairier frame. The weight of his muscles and the scratchiness of his chest hair felt foreign and awkward now that the horniness had worn off.

My dad, now in my body, nodded in agreement. “I don’t see what you have to complain about,” he said, his voice tinged with a hint of irritation. “But yeah, Jared, this is kind of ridiculous. We should swap back.”

“Oh, where’s the fun in that?” Jared replied, smirking to himself. I think he was getting a little turned on by the fact that he had done this to us.

As we entered the club, the atmosphere hit me like a wave: loud music, flashing lights, and a sea of bodies moving together. Jared immediately darted off to the bathroom, saying his body was so horny that he just had to jerk one out.

“I’ll stay with him,” my dad said, following him to the restroom. It was a good idea; we couldn’t afford to lose him in here.

Left alone, I was incredibly nervous. Even though I was sure I was into guys, I had never been to a place like this. I decided I needed a drink to steady my nerves.

Walking up to the bar, I signaled to the bartender. Before I could order, he greeted me warmly, “Hey Marcus! It’s been a few weeks, so glad to see you! What can I get for you?”

“Oh,” I said, a bit surprised. “Good to see you too.” I faked a smile. “Could I grab two vodka sodas?”

As I waited for the drinks I thought to myself, “A few guys in college? Yeah, right.” I guess my dad had a bit more of a slutty wild side than I realized.

After opening a tab with my dad’s card, I wandered deeper into the club, which was filled to the brim with every type of guy imaginable.

Searching around for where my dad and Jared went, I felt a bit at a loss. I couldn’t see them anywhere. Holding both drinks gingerly in my hands, I turned carefully, only to accidentally bump my shoulder against someone. I guess I wasn’t used to how big this body is.

“Oh, I’m so sorry,” I began to say, only to be greeted by the most beautiful face I’d ever seen.

The man standing before me was stunning, with chiseled features, piercing blue eyes, and a smile that could melt anyone’s heart. He laughed softly, his eyes crinkling at the corners. “No worries, big guy,” he said warmly, his voice a smooth blend of charm and confidence. “With muscles like that, it must happen all the time,” he chuckled, reaching out to feel my bicep.

My heart skipped a beat, “Not as often as you might think,” I replied, trying to flirt back but sounding a bit awkward.

The stranger's touch on my bicep sent a shiver through me, both exciting and unnerving in equal measure. Wearing my dad's body was still surreal, and the sensation of someone admiring muscles that technically weren't mine was strange. I managed to smile, hoping my nerves didn't show too much.

"I'm Diego," he said, extending his hand. His grip was firm, and his touch lingered a little longer than necessary, sending another jolt through me.

"Seth," I replied automatically, then quickly corrected myself. "I mean, Marcus." I felt a flush rise to my cheeks, realizing the slip might confuse him. "Just a bit scattered tonight, you know how it is."

Diego raised an eyebrow, his smile turning a bit more curious. "Rough night?"

"Something like that," I laughed nervously.

Diego’s eyes sparkled with amusement. "Well, Marcus, if you need a distraction from your rough night, I think I can help with that."

I felt a tug of nervous excitement in my chest.

He leaned in closer, his breath warm against my ear, and said, "How about we find a quieter spot to talk? It's a bit loud in here."

I nodded, grateful for the escape from the overwhelming noise and crowd. "Lead the way."

Diego took my hand, and a thrill shot through me as he guided me through the throng of dancing bodies. We weaved through the club, finally emerging into a quieter lounge area with plush seating and dim lighting. The bass still pulsed in the background, but it was muted here, making it easier to hear each other.

Diego gestured to an empty couch in a corner.

I sat down, and he settled in beside me, his proximity making my heart race even more. "So, Marcus," he began, his eyes locking onto mine. "What brings you to the club tonight?"

"Uh, just needed to blow off some steam," I replied, trying to keep my story straight. "Work's been crazy, you know?"

He nodded sympathetically. "I get that. I'm in finance. What do you do?"

"Construction," I said, recalling my dad's profession. "Lots of hard work, but it's rewarding."

Diego's eyes widened in appreciation. "I can tell. Those muscles don't build themselves," he said, giving my bicep another playful squeeze. His touch was electrifying, and I found myself leaning into it slightly.

"Yeah, it's tough," I admitted, trying to sound casual. "But I like the challenge."

Diego's smile widened, and I could see a spark of genuine interest in his eyes. "I bet you do," he said, his voice low and flirtatious. "There's something about a man who isn't afraid of hard work."

I chuckled, feeling more at ease with his playful banter. "Well, what about you? Finance must be pretty intense too."

"It can be," he admitted, leaning back slightly but maintaining eye contact. "But I like to think I balance it out with fun. Nights like this help."

"Yeah," I agreed, "I can see that."

As the conversation flowed, I found myself becoming more comfortable in my dad's body. The initial awkwardness began to fade, replaced by a growing confidence fueled by Diego's attention. I wasn't used to being this physically imposing, but the way he looked at me made it easier to embrace.

"You're quite something, Marcus," he said, his voice a seductive whisper. "I've got a feeling tonight is going to be unforgettable."

I smiled, the nerves now a distant memory, replaced by anticipation. "I think you might be right," I replied, leaning in closer.

---

Marcus POV

Waiting outside the bathroom for Jared, I was struggling to fend off a bunch of creepy old guys. Damn, this twink body is attracting a lot of attention—and definitely not all of it wanted. Their leers and inappropriate comments were making me increasingly uncomfortable. I crossed my arms over my chest, trying to create some sort of barrier between them and me, but it only seemed to encourage more attention.

One particularly persistent guy came up to me, grinning in a way that made my skin crawl. "Hey there, cutie," he said, his breath reeking of alcohol. "What's a sweet thing like you doing here all alone?"

I forced a tight smile, trying to be polite but firm. "I'm waiting for someone," I said, hoping that would be enough to make him go away.

But he wasn't deterred. He moved closer, his hand brushing against my arm. "Come on, don't be like that. Let's have some fun."

Panic started to creep in as I realized I couldn't shake him off. Desperate for an escape, I glanced toward the bathroom. Jared had to be in there somewhere. I just needed to find him.

"Excuse me," I said sharply, stepping away from the persistent guy and heading toward the bathroom door. I pushed it open, the smell of cologne and sweat hitting me as I entered. "Jared! Where the hell are you, dude?" I called out, my voice echoing off the tiled walls.

There was no response. The stalls were empty, and the urinals were unoccupied. I checked each one quickly, my anxiety rising with every empty space I found.

"Jared!" I shouted again, more urgently this time. He was nowhere to be found.

I leaned against the sink, gripping the edge tightly as I tried to steady my breathing. The club’s bass thumped through the walls, a constant reminder of the chaos just outside the door. Where could he have gone? He said he was just going to jerk off—how long could that take?

Feeling the panic start to overwhelm me, I splashed some cold water on my face and looked at my reflection. Seeing my son's face staring back at me was still a shock, but I had to focus. I needed to find Jared and get out of here before things got any worse.

I then bump into some guy who can only be maybe three years older than my current body—damn, he’s really cute. He had dark, wavy hair and a charming smile that made my heart race a little faster. For a moment, I forgot about my predicament and just enjoyed talking to him.

"Hey there," he said, flashing a smile. "You look a bit lost."

"Yeah, you could say that," I replied, trying to keep the conversation light. "Just trying to find my friend."

We chatted for a few minutes, his easygoing manner putting me at ease. I almost forgot about the chaos around me until I spotted Jared out of the corner of my eye. Relief washed over me.

"Sorry, I have to go," I said to the cute guy, giving him an apologetic smile before darting off toward Jared.

I ran up to him, my frustration boiling over. "Damn, where the hell have you been? Enough is enough, I need to get my body back now. I wanna swap!"

Jared looked back at me, a bit surprised, and then smirked. "Damn cutie, I wanna swap with you too."

Before I could say anything else, I felt the familiar, disorienting sensation of being sucked back into that horny body. It was like being pulled through a vortex, my senses swirling until I landed back in my own form. I blinked, trying to steady myself, and took a look at Seth’s body, which was now feeling itself up.

"Damn dude, this body is cute as hell," Jared—now in Seth’s body—said with a grin. "I’m definitely going to be able to pull some hotties in it."

"Jared, what the hell are you talking about?" I demanded, my anger flaring.

"I don’t know who the hell Jared is," he replied, his grin widening. "But thanks for the sexy body, dude." With that, he turned and ran off into the club.

"Fuck," I thought to myself, panic setting in. "What did I just do?"

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itsabouttimex2 · 2 days

Note

Heyyyy, it’s ME again!! I was just wondering if you take requests for Yandere Alphabets? If so can I get one of Huntsman, Syntax, and/or the Mayor?

(I know this is like my third request I’m so sorry I’m so starved of fanfic content of these three in any shape or form it is CRIMINAL 😭)

Yandere Alphabet: Huntsman

(No worries! I don’t mind at all! And sorry if updates have been a little slow- I’ve recently acquired a rescue cat, who’s been a little clingy!)

Authority: Do they see themselves as above their obsession?

No. Huntsman wants someone who is explicitly equal to him- in power and drive and skill. If Y/N is weak or small, he won’t have any interest in them.

Bread: Can they cook or bake? Is Y/N responsible for their own food?

I imagine he cures and dries most of his hunted meat, spicing the strips to be sharp and energizing. He’ll share- especially if you behave well enough to earn a hunt with him. And honestly? Huntsman would love to teach you to prepare it with him.

Probably not too good with modern appliances, though. He can use them, for what it’s worth- he just doesn’t like to.

Cruentus- How do they respond to Y/N being hurt, both slightly and severely?

Given their probable capability for self-defense, Huntsman isn’t too worried about his obsession’s safety. If he’s interested in Y/N, it’s because they make for a good rival- they have to be able to fight back and escape from danger.

If harm somehow comes to them in captivity, the arachnoid does see fit to tend your wounds- perhaps a bit roughly. Many natural remedies- honey as an antibiotic, aloe vera to soothe burns and rashes, poppy pods as a painkiller, ginger for nausea, etc.

Disengage- What’s their response to being ignored?

Mild distaste for what he perceives as ‘childishness’. When he catches Y/N, he expects them to accept it with some measure of grace. Sure, they don’t have to start cheering, but Huntsman would appreciate it if they were more mature.

Besides- he can ignore them right back, especially since they’re the one in cage.

Enclosure: Where do they keep Y/N?

Hung on his wall like a trophy- even if he has to take you apart piece by piece and put you back together like a puzzle.

Or a steel-wrought and dead-bolted cage, with just enough room to pace around- even with a shackle of black iron around your neck.

Decisions, decisions.

Facade: Are they good at hiding their true intentions?

I’d say no, but saying no implies that there’s an undertaken effort being failed- and there isn’t. Huntsman just… doesn’t care.

And franky? Neither does the Spider Queen, or Syntax, or Goliath. (Although the big guy will make sure you don’t starve while his workmate is out.) Nobody cares for your plight, leaving your hope of escape infinitesimally small.

Garment: Do they take control of Y/N’s clothes?

No, not really. As long as the gear you wear is practical, Huntsman won’t so much as bat an eye. Comfort and function are equally important, and that’s something he understands quite well.

If he does manage to catch you, expect to be given “luxury” clothes made from the bodies of his previous quarry. His webbing holds

Handicap: How do they handle Y/N being or becoming disabled?

If the disability occurs before he catches them, Huntsman may well drop his current obsession and find a new one. After all, he’s not looking for a pitiful cripple- he warns a powerful warrior! Why remain with someone who can no longer deftly escape his grasp?

If it happens afterwards, the arachnoid simply takes it as a permanent mark of his victory over you. You’ve got a limp or a shaky wrist or a few missing fingers- and he smiles wide when he see the struggle you undertake.

Proof of the colossal task surmounted- how could he not be proud of himself?

Intertwine: How physical are they? Do they enjoy skinship and touch?

His touch is rough and challenging, constant spurring towards a vicious fight and a potential attempt at escape- keeping you as a caged little bunny is just no fun. If our dear Huntsman can push until you snap and lash, he’ll be all the happier for it.

Just remember- this isn’t a game, and he won’t be going easy on you.

Jaunt: Are they willing to take Y/N out? Where do they go?

Not unless you’re willing to hunt, butcher, and cook little animals with him. If you are, Huntsman enjoys taking you out on little trips out to local forests and woods.

Kindness: What brings out the best in this yandere?

His kindest scenario involves a young and wild Y/N, feral and furious. He takes you under his wing to train properly, honing the skills you’ve obtained in the wild. Your transformation into a spider demon is inevitable, in this scenario. Huntsman would treat you more like an apprentice than a target, maybe taking you in as his own heir.

Limitation: What holds them back? Work? Family obligations? Physical weakness?

Very, very little. A mild and ever-thinning sense of duty to his queen, but that thread is gossamer. You come first, above all else.

Morals: What lines are they not willing to cross?

Torture. Admittedly, Huntsman isn’t a great person. But I don’t think he’d push that line into physical or psychological torment- he’s got his limits, especially when it comes to someone he actually sort of cares about.

Nausea: Can they tend to an illness, or would they rely on a doctor?

If natural remedies and rest don’t work, he’ll take you to Syntax to have your symptoms properly examined. Huntsman doesn’t want to threaten a doctor into seeing you, or run the risk of an escape while bringing you out, so he’ll just steal the needed medicine.

Obcordate: What reminds them of Y/N?

Rabbits scurrying to their burrows. Doves flying to their nests in fright. Fawns sheltering behind their mothers. Little prey animals running to hide away until the dawn rises once more and offers comfort from lurking shadows.

Pacify: How do they comfort Y/N? Do they even bother trying?

If you’re on the younger end (15-19), Huntsman will rummage up a little bit of pity to offer you cured meats and a fur jacket to wear. It’s not much, but it’s proof there’s a little bit of kindness in his heart somewhere.

If you’re on the older end, well… tough luck.

Queue: Do they have something of equal or greater importance to Y/N?

No. His loyalty to the Spider Queen comes close at first, but he eventually ditches her to pursue you more viciously.

Unless… he goes yandere for Sandy, too. With a younger Y/N and a budding obsession with the big blue sweetheart, I could see Huntsman trying to build himself a little family- however crude and forced.

Redemption: Could they grow out of their obsession and make amends with Y/N?

Dear lord, no. There is literally one circumstance in which he gives up on utterly decimating or owning you: the two of you fighting off the Mayor together and fighting the Lady Bone Demon alongside him.

The above mentioned scenario makes him behave more kindly, but he won’t give up the obsessive desire to possess.

Sobriquet- What nicknames do for they have for their obsession?

Morsel, little minnow, little dove, fresh meat… anything that makes you sound small and mouthwatering.

If you’ve animal attributes across your body, expect him to refer to you by whatever collateral adjective applies to your lineage.

Troop: How many people do they obsess over? Is that obsession spread equally?

One or two- it’s either you, or you and Sandy. If it’s both of you, his time and effort is split roughly half-and-half.

Underdog: Who‘s on the yandere’s side? Would they help out?

No one is explicitly helping him (unless mutually yandere Silktea is a thing, and then Sandy does enable him, unfortunately) but no one is stopping him, either. None of his fellow spider demons care whether he has you or not, leaving Huntsman virtually free to do as he pleases while pursuing you.

Vocalize: How do they justify their actions?

Huntsman doesn’t bother to do so- what he’s doing is wrong, but he revels in it anyhow. Why care about mortal laws or logic? All they do is hamper his fun.

White Whale: Why do they pursue Y/N, exactly?

If you’re strong and capable, you’ve got a chance of catching this spider’s eyes. That’s about it- he wants someone just as vicious and powerful (or at least as capable) as he is.

Xanthous: What do they really want?

A way to elevate his skills, and that’s about it. When it comes to his ‘yandere’ side, he’s high on obsession and low on love. It’s one of the reasons he’s willing to kill Y/N- their worth to him is mostly temporary, based on their power and techniques.

Youth: How old is Y/N in comparison to them? Younger, same age, or older?

Same age, maybe a little older. A child won’t have the experience he’s looking for- this arachnoid specifically wants a good hunt. There’s no joy or triumph in butchering a helpless child.

If you do happen to be a child who impressed him, he’ll abduct you. Maybe a few weeks will be spent waiting in a dusty, web-covered cellar, only for him to come in and stab a venom-drone into the base of your spine. A little hunting buddy doesn’t sound like an awful thing to have, after all.

Zealous: Do they pursue Y/N doggedly, or are they more laidback and casual with their approach?

It doesn’t get much more zealous than viciously pursuing someone as though they were a fleeing beast. Every night is spent fortifying your defenses and prepping weaponry, all to meet him in the morning and fight desperately to ward the demon off.

Author’s Choice:

#Platonic Yandere #Yandere Lego Monkie Kid #Yandere LMK #Yandere Huntsman #Yandere Alphabet

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lunatiics · 2 days

Text

pretty girls (pt. 3) | planymphia

Word Count: 1.2k

Summary: Act like it never happened in another world... until Jane doesn't have to anymore.

A/N: This is kind of rushed? But I had a burst of inspiration, and so here it is! Also, if it wasn't obvious, this whole fic is very heavily Pretty Girls by Reneé Rapp-coded, especially this part.

Part 1 Part 2

“So, are you going to tell me what’s going on with you and Nymphia?” Morphine asked.

It was bound to happen at some point. Jane knew that. She had gotten through most of the day without a single comment about her little heartfelt outburst the night before, but when Morphine had parked their makeup next to Jane’s, she knew her luck had run out.

Luckily, Jane had had the majority of the day to prepare a perfect answer for if—when—she was asked about it. Knowing how nosy her sisters were, it was just a matter of time. And, per usual, she was right.

“It’s just for the cameras,” Jane said, the script spilling off her lips so easily she almost convinced herself. “You know how the fans love this shit. They’ll eat it up.”

“I don’t know…” Morphine pursed their lips. “I’ve seen you do that before. And this is, well, it’s similar. But it’s also different. You’ve been acting different.”

Jane rolled her eyes as cooly as she could. “You need to focus on yourself, Miss No Wins. Stop worrying about me. Not that I can blame you. I’d be obsessed with me, too.”

She was being defensive. She was being so obvious, and she knew it. But she couldn’t help herself. Throwing up her walls was all she knew. All the preparation in the world couldn’t break the habit.

Morphine laughed, but their face was still soft and fixed on Jane. “I’m not worried. It’s nice to see you like this. You seem…”

“What?” Jane asked, packing eyeshadow onto her eyelid and trying to keep her hand from shaking.

Morphine shrugged. “Happier.”

Jane scoffed. She racked her brain for something, anything, to say in response. But she couldn’t deny it. She was happier, and it was obvious, especially after last night. Nymphia made her happier. Nymphia made her want to be better. It was petrifying and devastating but at the end of the day, still true.

Jane sighed. The words came out before she could stop them. “Well, she hasn’t spoken to me all day. So I wouldn’t get too used to it.”

That was true, too. Nymphia hadn’t so much as shot a glance Jane’s way all day. Jane had positioned herself as far away from Nymphia as possible, avoided her as best she could, so she couldn’t even blame Nymphia for doing the same. But still, Jane’s worst fears had been confirmed. Jane had probably been too obvious, and it had scared Nymphia away, like Jane had scared everyone else she cared about in her life away. Maybe she just wasn’t meant to get close to people. Maybe she just wasn’t meant to have that kind of—

“Are you two talking about me?” Jane jumped as Nymphia appeared over her shoulder, her hands snaking around her waist. Even from the light touch, Jane felt like her entire body had been electrified.

But even more overwhelming was the fact that Nymphia was there, behind her, touching her. They hadn’t spoken all day, much less looked at each other, and now they were tucked against each other—through Nymphia’s own doing, thank you very much. Nymphia tucked her chin in between Jane’s shoulder and neck, a small smile on her face, and her eyes lasered into Jane’s in the mirror. Jane was frozen, one hand holding a makeup brush suspended in the air and the other hand (she wasn’t even sure how it got there) caressing Nymphia’s, which was folded around her body. The werkroom disappeared, time stopped, and she and Nymphia were floating in a world made for the two of them, where they belonged.

It took all of Jane’s willpower not to collapse ito the ground. But she managed to do what she did best: she slapped on a bitchy smirk and put on her best unaffected air. “I would never talk about you. Wouldn’t even cross my mind,” she quipped, her voice shaking the tiniest amount.

Nymphia pressed her lips together in amusement and pulled herself away from Jane. She winked before walking back to her station. “Keep on pretending, pretty girl.” She said over her shoulder.

Pretty girl.

Morphine’s mouth hung open. Jane thought she could die right there.

—

Nymphia was hugging Jane as if her life depended on it, and Jane never wanted her to let go.

Of course, Jane had given Nymphia her immunity potion. Of course, Nymphia hadn’t actually needed it. Of course, Jane did it anyway.

It was the only thing she could think of to express how much she believed in Nymphia, wanted her to succeed, to show her beauty, talent, and effervescence to the world. Even if it cost Jane her spot on the show and the safety and security of immunity. It didn’t matter. Nymphia was worth it.

“Thank you,” Nymphia said into Jane’s hair. “I know what that meant to you.”

They had just walked off stage, and Nymphia hadn’t been able to contain herself; she had thrown her arms around Jane in the hallway to the lounge, in front of the PAs, all the girls, and even a few cameras. But Jane didn’t care. She wanted to stay like this forever, wrapped in the girl that made her feel like home, that made the world seem brighter, better, and a place she belonged.

“I was so scared you’d never talk to me again,” Jane whispered.

Nymphia pulled slightly away to look into Jane’s eyes. “What? Why would you think that?”

Jane stared at the ceiling, her hands absent-mindedly running up and down Nymphia’s arms, which were draped over Jane’s shoulders.

“You seemed like you needed space,” Nymphia continued. “I didn’t want to freak you out even more. And I honestly…” She smiled sheepishly. “I didn’t know what to say. You know I’m not the best with my words.”

Jane laughed and looked back at Nymphia tenderly. “I know.”

“But it’s us.” Nymphia smiled. “I knew everything would work out, even if we didn’t say anything.”

Us. Jane felt like her soul had left her body. “I hoped so. I really hoped so. I just couldn’t tell what you were feeling or if it was real… I mean, what I feel about you… I’ve never—”

She was grasping for words, trying to find language to articulate feelings that seemed so insurmountable and unfitting for a mere sentence. But Nymphia saved her from having to explain herself as she pressed her lips against Jane’s.

Jane froze. It had felt like time had stopped when they touched. And when they finally kissed, it felt like the world stopped. Compared to everyone Jane had been with before, Nymphia was in a whole other universe.

Jane had dreamed about kissing Nymphia. Dreamed about doing everything with her, from waking up together to taking on the world. But nothing in her fantasies could have prepared her for the real thing, how perfect Nymphia felt, tasted, was. She was more than pretty. She was magnificent.

Nymphia’s hands found their way to Jane’s face, holding her like she was precious and delicate, someone deserving of the love Nymphia could give. As Jane sank into Nymphia’s touch, she started to believe she actually might be worthy of receiving it.

“I know,” Nymphia said against Jane’s lips. “You don’t have to say it. I know.”

#planymphia #rpdr 16 #yearning is so in

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kinopio-writes · 2 days

Note

Hello! I really like the way you write ;) can I see the OCD reader's girlfriend? (she is very paranoid, constantly checking everything, checking the house for hidden cameras, checking things and sometimes throwing tantrums because she thinks she is being watched) characters: Lucifer, Adam

A/N: Thank you. I did a bit of research about OCD, so hopefully I’m not appearing ignorant or anything. I know everyone’s experiences are different, but do tell me if I’m inaccurate.

Also, I know you only specified paranoia, but I added a couple of other things, too. I hope that’s okay. This somehow could all be read platonically.

Warnings: Adam being Adam (he’ll be quite insensitive here and possibly triggering)

———

Lucifer, and Adam w/ a Reader who has OCD

Lucifer

• I don’t think Lucifer would even know that the word mental health exists

• wait, no, scratch that—he explicitly said he has depression

• actually, y’know what, maybe he heard the term depression through Lilith or something

• because there is just no way he knows what mental health is

• he’s been a hermit ever since the beginning of humanity (after he got banished)—how would he know?

• but, uh, anyway, back to the headcanons—

• he doesn’t know you specifically have OCD

• he just thinks what you’re doing is pretty normal since he’s also neurodivergent himself, so he relates to some of the things you think or do

• he’s very supportive

• he healthily alleviates your worries

• he never pushes them away or make it seem like you’re overreacting

• but, uh, constantly reassuring you would very much drain him

• Lucifer is also a man who requires many reassurance

• one of many habits you picked up is constantly checking up on the guy since you know he also has issues himself

• it gets worse if Lucifer’s depression takes a massive decline

• you’re constantly knocking at his office door, calling out his name to make sure he didn’t…

• uh, Lucifer usually doesn’t have the energy to respond during those times, so your worry doubles further

• this is unfortunately not an uncommon occurrence

• moving on, you two often try to get the other to come back to bed (you both struggle with sleeping)

• be it because of your compulsive behaviors or him hyper-fixating on finishing his rubber duck projects that you both lose track of time

• so what happens if it happens to the both of you at the same time?

• uh, it’s just not good

• you two will regret it the next morning

• you two are basically barely functioning together, but are trying to be better for each other

• and for Charlie, too

———

Adam

• I don’t think Adam would notice anything at first

• but if you two see each other quite often (maybe living together), he would pick up on some of your quirks

• he would hate how particular you are about many things

• like, what do you mean it needs to be like this? What do you mean this needs to be exactly like that? And what do you mean that has to be like this? Why can’t it just be the way it already is?

• your anxiousness also irks him

• like, why are you like this? You live in Heaven, for fuck’s sake! Why are you so worried?

• he, uh, “reassures” your paranoia not very healthily

• “Oh, that? Pshh, you’re fineee.” “Don’t worry ’bout it.” “Stop being so paranoid.” “Jeez, you’re overreacting.”

• it’s even worse if you’re bothered with things such as messes since Adam definitely does not have cleanliness as a trait

• his home is usually cluttered unless he uses his powers or gets someone to do it for him

• if you have trouble with time management, don’t worry about accidentally waking Adam up late at night ’cause he has a shitty sleep schedule

• you also don’t have to worry about that since he’s probably a heavy sleeper

• actually, he probably either sleeps in until the afternoon or takes afternoon naps after a sleepless night

• those times when he’s awake at ungodly hours are when he notices your habits

• if you don’t want any of the behavior I’ve mentioned, please educate him because he will most definitely not do it himself

• don’t be afraid to speak your mind because he obviously can’t read it

• but he won’t exactly make things easier for you

• unless it’s convenient for him

• he’ll just tone himself down a bit (his words, I mean)

• but he’ll slip up from time to time because he’s just very used to not being mindful of the things he says

• overall, just know that he’ll get annoyed and frustrated with you at times

• ...uh, yeah

• maybe you just shouldn’t be around him

#hazbin hotel x reader #lucifer x reader #adam x reader #hazbin hotel lucifer #hazbin hotel adam #kinopiowrites

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lost-pen-name · 2 days

Text

Tom Ryder x fem!reader

Summary: You were about to leave Tom’s suite when a heavy rainstorm started. Not wanting to risk trying to drive in such poor conditions, you grabbed your stuff from your car, returned back to his door, and asked if you could stay the night. He, begrudgingly, obliged and allowed you to stay in the guest bedroom.

Genre: Fluff, cuddling, comfort

Word count: 2176

Warnings: none

{ you came? you called. }

You were sitting alone in bed, trembling like a leaf, when the power went out in Tom Ryder’s house.

The light flickered for a moment before going out completely, along with the rest of all things electrical. The house was unsettlingly quiet and felt off without the hum of the fridge or air conditioner.

Lightning crackled outside. You pushed yourself a bit out of bed, debating on the idea to go look for Tom, just so you wouldn’t have to be alone. But that would mean leaving the safety of your room.

“Tom?” you called out instead. You looked back at the large window across the bedroom. Even with the curtains drawn, light flashed across the room sporadically.

Farther across the house, you swore you could hear someone moving around. Your heart pounded and you waited, holding your breath, hoping it was Tom coming to check on you. You just needed to know another human existed right now.

There was a THUD and a curse that came after. It sounded like it came from farther down the hall.

A second later you heard an “Oi, what happened?” That familiar voice came from your doorway and you breathed a sigh of relief.

You breathed a sigh of relief and swiped at an unshed tear. You prayed your voice won’t have too much desperation in it. “You came.”

“What? Of course I did. A woman screams my name out in the middle of the freaking night, I’d be crazy not to come.” He sounds agitated and tired but you don’t care, you’re just clinging to the fact that there’s someone here now. “Why’d you call for me? I hope you know I almost died on the way over here. The power’s out, I can’t see a bloody thing.”

Lightning lit up the room and you caught a glance at Tom Ryder standing in the doorway, wearing only a pair of loose fitting sweatpants. A series of thunderclaps shot an arrow of anxiety through the bubble of thought of how gorgeous he looked even at 1am.

You closed your eyes and tried to breathe deeply. “I... I didn’t want to be alone. Not with this storm raging outside.” You gestured towards the window just as thunder booms again.

You heard him sigh. “What am I supposed to do, crawl into bed with you?”

The idea of having someone close to you overpowers all the reason in your brain screaming at you that this wasn’t good for your business relationship. The fear of being alone in this storm trumped all rational thoughts.

“Could you? Even just for a bit?” you said.

There’s a moment of silence before you hear his footsteps and he’s at the side of your bed. You look up at him and gulp. Maybe this was a dumb thing to ask.

“Fine. But give me some blanket.” Without another word, he’s on the bed, crawling into the covers. His bare feet touched yours for a brief moment before you quickly moved your body far away that side of the bed.

He doesn’t seem to notice or care. You watched him as he shifted around, getting the pillow right for him, the blanket pulled a bit over to his side before he relaxed and breathed heavily.

You can feel your heart hitting against your chest painfully and you don’t know if that’s now entirely because of the storm or if it had anything to do with sharing a bed with Tom.

He breaks the silence. “I called Gail, asked her what the whole situation is about the power and all that.” You see him wave his hands around as he talks. “She said it’ll take a few hours, maybe even ‘til morning before we get any power back. So, we’re in it for the long run.”

That was longer than you had hoped but you guessed you should’ve expected it to take that long. “Okay,” is all you can manage to get out through your tight throat.

You both grow quiet again. The awkwardness of this all keeps hitting you so you break the silence. You twisted your head to look at him. “Sorry, I know this is kind of weird.”

“Yeah, well,” he said dryly, “it’s mainly weird because I didn’t need to know how many stuffies my employee has. How old are you again?”

You’re dumbfounded. He’s choosing now to judge you? And for what, bringing in the small stuffie collection you had in your car? That was so like him. It was oddly both reassuring to have the normalcy and frustrating. “You’re such a jerk, Tom Ryder,” you said.

Quiet. Then an indignant harrumph. The blankets shifted and you felt the mattress dip as he pushed himself off. “Well, fine, if that’s how you’re going to treat me.”

You rolled over to his side of the bed, trying to ignore how nice and warm it was. “Wait!” You grabbed his hand before he went too far. “Tom, wait, please don’t go.”

He peered over his shoulder at you. “Make me.”

Your heart sank a bit. There he goes again, always with the attitude. “Well, you’re kinda proving my point here,” you whispered under your breath.

“What was that?” He turned fully around and squinted down at you.

Goodness gracious, he kinda does look glorious standing there, his bare chest making it hard to formulate sentences, his usual strategically tousled hair ruffled and unkempt. And he doesn’t seem to notice you’re still gripping onto his hand, not that you mind. It’s hot and rougher than you expected from a privileged celebrity.

Thunder claps interrupt your ogling and a nervous ripple hits you. The anxiety might’ve left for a bit but the thought of Tom leaving you alone again with the storm sends all of the worry back into you.

“I didn’t actually mean that, you know that. I was joking around,” you said. Your free hand clutches at the covers.

“I come in here and, and, what? I’m being incredibly nice to you and you insult me as a joke?” His tone carried a bit of a whine to it.

“I know, I’m sorry.” You inhale and exhale with a quiet and quick, “pleasedon’tgo.”

His frown softened and he glanced down at our hands entwined. Lightning danced across the room for a moment, lighting up the room enough for you to spy the smallest smile from him.

You gaped at him. What did you say that earned you a gentle smile from THE Tom Ryder?

Before you can think about it too much, he sighed and leaned down to get back into bed. “Hey, scoot over.”

You let go of his hand and moved back over to your side of the bed.

He fell into the covers and put his arms behind his head, cushioning his head on them. He sighed again. “You absolutely should be grateful, you know.”

“I am,” you whispered.

Thunder booms, closer than any of the other times and you winced. Your breathing is becoming too fast, too irregular.

Tom turned on his side, angling his body to face you. “You’re really scared of storms then?” His usual condescending tone is gone. It’s replaced with something softer.

You nodded, even though he probably can’t see it in the dark, and pulled the covers up to your chin. “Ever since I was a little kid.”

He made a thoughtful sound in the back of his throat. “Do you know why?”

“No. I just get anxious whenever there’s a storm. I can never go to sleep when there’s one happening.” You closed your eyes and put a hand on your chest, trying, willing yourself to just breathe normally.

A huge series of thunder crashes outside and the house shudders, breaking off any thoughts you had. Your body reacted in an almost fight or flight instinct. Without even stopping to think, you slid further into bed and towards Tom, pressing your body against his, your face and his pecs aligned. Your hand wrapped around his arm and you squeezed your eyes closed, praying that the noise will come an end. It sounds like the grand finale of the thunderstorm, like the storm is proud of this last act and wants to show to the world just as loud and powerful it can be. The heat coming from Tom’s body and the solidness of him is the only thing tethering you and keeping you from going too far over the edge.

Finally, it’s quiet. You panted and opened your eyes. His flesh is the only thing in your vision. Your eyes focused on a freckle on his chest and there’s a small part of you that has the urge to kiss it. A blush creeped up with your neck. You realized your nails are digging into his arm and you snatched your hands away.

You can not believe you just freaked out and clung to your boss. In bed. This had to be against so many employer-employee work ethics. If this doesn’t get you fired, you don’t know what will.

“I’m so sorry,” you said, sitting up and starting to push yourself back away from him.

His hand shot out and stopped in your tracks. “No,” he said thickly.

Just... “no?” You have no clue what that meant. He’s probably angry at you now or thinks you’re even more childish, reacting like a baby koala clinging to her mother just because of some storm. With a sinking feeling, you overcome your fear of whatever you might see on his face when you look at him and glanced over at him.

Even in the dark, you can tell his expression is the most serious you’ve ever seen in the months you’ve worked under him.

That was not what you were expecting.

“What did you do about these storms when I wasn’t here?” His voice is low, almost stern.

You pushed your hair back awkwardly. “I don’t know, wait it out? Hide under my covers? When my sister stays at my place sometimes, she’ll calm me down.”

“And how does she do that?”

You swallowed hard. What is he thinking? What is he planning to do with this information? “She holds me until it’s long over.”

Tom’s hand tightened a bit at that. You looked down at it on your arm, you had almost forgotten it was there.

“Well.” He sniffed loudly. “Come here then.” He let go of you and opened his arms, like he’s welcoming you to a hug. The most muscle toned and chiseled hug ever.

Your heart pounded. “You really don’t have to do that, you’ve done more than enough. And the storm sounds like it’s almost over.”

“If your sister does it until the storm is completely over, then I’m going to do it better and do it all night.” He waved a hand in exasperation. “I’ll feel like a heroic knight saving a princess. So stop being stubborn and come here.”

But this was excessive, even for him.

His words are said so easily but the weight of them hits you like a brick. Sure, he always likes being better than everyone and doesn’t like being beaten at anything.

And somehow, in a weird way, it was sweet.

Not knowing what else to do but listen to him, you awkwardly scoot closer to him. His arms wrapped around you and pulled you in, forcing your body to be pressed against his and closing whatever distance you had. Now your head is next to his pecs again, his strong arms around you, cocooning you in. His skin is warm and you can faintly hear his heartbeat. It’s a steady pulse, its gentle rhythm is calming to you. You can feel his chest as he inhales and exhales and you start to match his breathing.

The world has calmed. You feel calm. And safe, surprisingly. Safe and secure with the world’s hottest superstar but to you, a flawed man you’re slowly beginning to realize you enjoy spending time with. Maybe you’re starting to like him, not just tolerate him.

“Thank you, Tom,” you said quietly as you stared up at the ceiling.

He shifted slightly and you feel his sigh ruffle your hair. “Mhmm.” It’s just a sound but it sounded like an audible shrug, like he didn’t think you meant it.

You smiled softly and closed your eyes. “No, really. This is helping. So thank you.”

His chin nestled in your hair as he got comfortable. “Whatever, I’m glad to help.”

Did he sound embarrassed? You grinned bigger. “You’re the best boss ever. You’re like... my hero, my knight in shining sweatpants.”

He groaned. “Now you’re laying it a touch too thick. Be quiet now, I’m trying to sleep.”

You covered your mouth with your hand and laughed quietly. “Okay, okay, goodnight, Tom.”

He murmured a goodnight and pulled you in further, his legs wrapped around yours, practically hugging you like you’re a body pillow. It’s nice. Really really nice.

You smiled again and leaned into the hug.

Okay, maybe you do kinda like him.

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