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softomi · 3 years

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Catfish

prompt: mother says to be wary of people you meet on the internet, especially since you never know who’s on the other side of the screen.

pairing: atsumu x reader

the unpaid extras: osamu, suna

general taglist: @graykageyama

Osamu liked to mess with his brother and lately he’s been planning the largest prank. It originally wasn’t supposed become a huge thing, but then Suna just kept edging him on; adding more things one by one and it just spiraled. Osamu was catfishing Atsumu with your pictures.

Now, Osamu knows that it sounds bad but technically you were in on the prank. You had never met nor even knew Atsumu, heck, you didn’t even know who Osamu was. You had been part of the prank merely through text messages and the occasional meet up with Suna.

To put it simply, Suna met you through one of his teammates; coincidentally you ended up in one of his classes and the two of you built a tiny friendship. Which was why, when Suna was thinking of the perfect person to catfish Atsumu with; your face lit up in his head.

You were the perfect candidate, exactly Atsumu’s type literally to a tee. When Suna pulled up your contact, the first thing he did was offer to pay you. Every picture you sent used for the prank, he’ll send you cash through an app and as a broke college student who needed cash fast, you agreed as long as the photos weren’t used for anything weird or sexual. He made sure to send you proof of each photo in use.

This brings it all back to dear Osamu catfishing his brother. He had created an entirely new Instagram for you, complete using your name and a cute description that him and Suna had spent two hours thinking of. They decided to even spend a few days perfecting it, posting pictures a few days apart with captions, following random groups, liking posts, essentially creating a whole new personality using your photos. Osamu had even developed a fake occupation for you; a foodie blogger to which some posts were dedicated to food reviews for restaurants Osamu deemed worthy of a post.

And when Osamu says that the prank spiraled; it fucking spiraled. Originally it started with Suna and Osamu following the account, suddenly Suna’s teammates began following the account. Osamu made the mistake of tagging Onigirl Miya in one of your photos, ultimately adding a few random people to follow the account. Suddenly after two weeks of having the account, you gained over two thousand follows.

It was no worries though, because Osamu can quickly catfish Atsumu, take down the account, and call it all good.

Safe to say, Atsumu accepted the friend request rather quickly. Osamu and Suna snicker to themselves, it took Atsumu less than five minutes to accept and he was already liking all of your photos. Not even ten minutes pass and he’s sliding into the DM’s.

The two men looking at the phone and burst into laughter. They spend five minutes cackling at Atsumu’s random ‘hey’ message that followed with a smiling emoji.

Osamu was absolutely entertained, it was hilarious that his own brother had fallen for his catfish and honestly, Osamu was ready to give up the act after three days but then Atsumu said something that just really pissed him off. He doesn’t remember what it was, he just suddenly ended up two more weeks later still having the fake Instagram account and still having Atsumu believe that he was falling in love with some girl.

Somehow the account ended up with over five thousand followers, Atsumu messages the account religiously, and Osamu for some godly reason is still managing the account three months later. It’s spiraled.

“I have a girlfriend!” Atsumu doesn’t know why his friend and brother are laughing. He’s scrolling through your Instagram, the catfish Instagram.

Osamu almost chokes on his food, “So what, have you guys gone on a date? Have you even seen her in real life?” Suna snorts into his drink, he coughs when he accidentally inhales the water sharply.

Atsumu slumps in his seat, his voice small, “No, but we talk every day and she likes me!”

Suna is coughing even harder now, tears threatening to leave his eyes to the point that he excuses himself to the bathroom. Osamu has a shit eating grin on his face, “How do you know she’s actually not some old dude catfishing you?”

“She’s not!” Atsumu stutters, “She’s real!”

“Prove it.”

Osamu was about to learn a harsh lesson about the world; the world loves to bite you in the ass when you least expect it.

Atsumu leans forward, an eerie grin on his lips, “Happily.” Atsumu whips out his phone, quickly presses a number and holds the phone to his ear. He holds a finger up to his brother, even gesturing for the returning Suna to remain quiet. The phone picks up, “Hey babe, you wanna meet me here at Onigiri Miya?” Atsumu looks at the watch on his wrist, “Twenty minutes? Perfect.”

Osamu’s believing his brother is bluffing. There was no way in hell he’d be able to somehow magically bring the catfish to life, heck, Atsumu would be a god if suddenly he could. Thirty minutes pass, Osamu is exchanging looks with Suna. It’s absolutely silent between the three.

Osamu is suddenly feeling guilty, Suna is uncomfortable to the point that he’s even texting you to make sure you weren’t actually coming, and you confirmed with him that you weren’t.

“Should we tell him?” Osamu whispers when another five minutes pass.

Suna is deadpanned, “I don’t know, we’re kind of reaching a sad territory now. Let’s just break up with him and ghost him.”

Osamu groans, “But do we want to deal with a sad Atsumu, I’ll take getting my ass kicked over him crying in my apartment.”

The door chimes and their jaws smack the floor. You walked through the door, eyes roaming the place before landing on the three huddled into the corner. Is he a fucking god? Atsumu stands from his seat, he meets you halfway, pulling you into a heartfelt kiss that has you swooning.

The closer you approach with Atsumu’s arm around your shoulder, the more they truly begin to believe that Atsumu is a god.

“Guys, this is my girlfriend.” This time it’s Atsumu who has a shit-eating grin, “Ain’t she a beauty, the pictures don’t do her justice.”

It takes everything in Osamu to not scream, “But, you said you’d never even met her before.”

Atsumu gazes into your eyes, hearts practically floating above his head, “I mean I guess technically this is our first-time meeting, right?”

You nod, a puppy like expression on your face, “I’m sorry, I haven’t introduced myself yet. You must be Osamu.” You point to him then your fingers drag to the other male, “Suna.”

“Oh.” Suna sits straight up, “Oh!” He catches the glint in your eyes, the conniving little minx of a look. Suna was no longer calm, “We’ve been double crossed!”

There’s screaming, fingers are being pointed at each other, Atsumu is gripping Osamu by the neck of his shirt, Suna is literally calling your phone to make sure that it’s actually you, Osamu is pulling his brother’s hair. The customers of the restaurant stare with their jaws dropped at the scene.

Everyone is squished into Osamu’s small office. Suna is sitting on the desktop, Osamu in his chair, Atsumu in the spare seat, and you lean on the arm of Atsumu’s chair. His arm dangles around your waist, pulling you to lean on him with a cheery grin.

Atsumu leans forward, taking in the expressions of the two bewildered boys, “I guess let’s start at the beginning.”

While the story technically began three months ago with Suna asking for your cooperation, the story of you and Atsumu began two months ago.

The extra cash from all the pictures you sent Suna was giving you enough to be able to go out and live a little on the weekends. Originally the bar was dead, you and your friends were tucked into the corner in a booth when a rowdy bunch of men came in. Your friends gasped having recognize them as members of a sports team and with their excitement, they must have won a game.

It didn’t affect your group that much until it came to split ways; being in your last year of university, you excused yourself, insisting that you needed to go home to finish a project. As you stood at the register, card tapping against the counter, that was when he showed up.

At this point, Atsumu had spent the past hour believing the gods were on his side. He practically walked by your table ten times just to make sure the face matched the one in his instagram’s DM. After forty minutes of the constant back and forth, your quick gazes at him walking by the table seem to do nothing. Were you unable to recognize him?

He took his shot watching you stand alone at the counter. He finishes off his drink and smoothly strides to you.

“Hey!” Atsumu leans on the counter, flashing a smile despite alcohol dripping from the side of his mouth, “Wouldn’t you consider this fate?” He gestures between the both of you.

You’re confused, shooting him a puzzled gaze, “Sorry, you must have me mistaken for someone else.” You hand the card to the worker, anxiously eyeing the male who’s increasingly invading your space.

Atsumu places a hand on the small of your back, it was something Instagram you had mentioned you liked, instead it triggered a fight or flight. Your hand makes harsh contact with his cheek, he retracts his hand immediately.

“Don’t touch me!” You bark at him, “Perv.” You’re aggressively signing the receipt, storming out of the door while other men seem to ooh at Atsumu’s situation.

“Hey!” Atsumu catches your figure outside of the bar, you’re waving a hand to catch a cab, “I think we got off on the wrong foot there.”

You don’t give him a second glance, “Look, I don’t know who you think you are.”

“Atsumu.” He stands right in front of you, blocking your sights for a cab. He’s got the widest smile on his face as he holds out a hand, “Miya Atsumu. Volleyball player. Setter for the Black Jackals.”

“Okay.” You run a hand through your hair, oddly taking his hand into a shake while eyeing him, “Miya Atsumu, volleyball player, setter for the Black Jackals.”

You step to the side, arm out still trying to catch a taxi but he blocks your way once more and he looks at you with such wonder. His eyes practically having stars coming out and his smile warm and inviting. He was wondering if you were a twin, maybe he had actually gotten the wrong person.

“You are?”

The wind is causing your hair to blow in your face, he wants to so bad to brush the strands behind your ears but the way you gave him a slap earlier makes him think that’s a bad idea. Your fingers pull your hair back, “Y/n. I don’t have a fancy title like yours but, I guess I don’t know, senior to be graduating at the university.” You sidestep him once more, “I’m just trying to catch a cab home.”

Once more he blocks your way and you look at him with defeat. He was persistent. He laughs, “Sorry, last time, but do you not know me?”

You’re still as confused as ever, “Look if you’re going to pull some cheesy line about seeing me before, it’s not going to work.”

“Wait, just hold on a second.” Atsumu pulls out his phone, his fingers are shaking as he presses onto the app. He pulls up your profile, handing you his cell phone, “This is you isn’t it?!”

Your eyes scan the social media page, your mouth falling open, there’s a hidden laugh itching in your throat. These were all the picture you had taken for Suna and somehow, you’re being shown by a stranger your fake profile.

“We’ve been messaging for like a month, I can’t believe you don’t recognize me.”

I don’t recognize you because I’m not the one talking to you.

You’re perplexed, you weren’t sure what you were supposed to do, if you told him he’s being catfished you’d lose the flow of side cash you’ve developed but if you didn’t, isn’t that just wrong. And the more you look at him from under the stars, he’s rather cute; you suddenly feel bad for slapping his face earlier.

“Do you want to get some coffee?”

Your offer sends him over the moon, he’s walking alongside you to the nearest convenience; Atsumu is rather talkative, bringing up topics of everything and anything that comes to his mind. As the two of you look over drink options in the cooler, his hands pull two cans of black coffee.

“You’re favorite right?” He holds one out to you.

Your actively smiling, biting your lower lip and wondering if you needed to play along with the role but as he stares at you with such adoring eyes, it makes your heart skip a beat just taking in the fact that he would remember something trivial over text.

“Actually.” You place the drink back, opting for a sweeter caramel macchiato, “I would say that this is my favorite.”

Atsumu quirks a brow, “Are you saying you were lying to me?” He places a hand over his heart, “And here I thought we were soulmates.”

Your hand smacks against his arm, “Shut up.”

“So what are you studying for?” Atsumu sips his drink, the two of you leaning against the windows of the convenience store. There’s a slight sway in his body and you’ve unknowingly followed his movements.

“Literature. Once I graduate, an internship is probably where I’ll start but I’m hoping I can get hired into a publishing company.” He’s comfortable to be with and you aren’t sure if it’s because he thinks he knows you or because his presence is just like that; comfortable.

Atsumu finishes off his canned beverage, “And you do that, all on top of running a foodie Instagram.”

From what you gathered on a quick skim of the account; they have your occupation as a lower level food blog; it’s rather funny. You can only nod to him, “It’s just a side hobby really.”

“Well maybe I could join you on one of your little adventures.”

You try to suppress the immense grin that wants to grow on your lips, there’s an internal battle happening of whether you should tell him or not but once again, the way he looks at you, the cute doe eyed look; it puts butterflies in your stomach.

“How about tomorrow?” He lets out a small gasp, your hands pull out your cell phone and offer it to him, “Your number?”

“I’m free for lunch, just text me when and where.”

You press the number he’s inserted into his contact; in a second his cell rings and he’s showing off his screen, “Don’t message me on Instagram though, I’m detoxing from social media for a bit. Just, text my number.”

He walks you to the curb, helping you flag down a cab, and you give him one last gleeful glance before getting into the car. As you sit, you’re quick to dial Suna’s number. You know he’s probably sleeping but the light feeling in your heart overrides his sleep schedule.

“What?” He’s groaning.

“Suna listen to me carefully. The prank that you guys are doing.” You hear a small snore, “Suna!” He jolts awake and you groan, “You know what, go back to sleep.”

“Thanks.” He hangs up immediately.

Your phone dings, Atsumu’s name pops up. Can’t wait for our date. You bite on your thumb, a smile on you before you respond.

Although having just seen him forty minutes ago, you two text back and forth. First he wondered if you arrived home safe, next he sent pictures of himself insisting it’s for you to choose for his icon, then he proceeds to narrate his way home. You wonder if you’re responding like catfish you but the more he brings up random topics, the more you forget about that stupid prank.

Wait let me call you.

Your heart beats faster, your phone lighting up with his name. You press the answer button slowly, “Hello?” You giggle.

“You’re telling me that you like spikers more than setters.” His voice is nearly screaming and you lean back on your chair laughing into the phone.

The quick research you did on his team had you watching short videos, and while you had to admit it was amazing to watch, your eyes drifted more to one of his teammates than him, “What’s his name?” You lean to look at your computer screen, “Bokuto Koutarou?”

“No!” He’s whining out into the air, “If I had known you were a spiker girl I would have changed positions.”

Your eyes catch the time on your laptop, “Woah. It’s three in the morning.” That meant you had spent over four hours total texting him and now you were on the phone with him, “What are you doing awake?”

He blows out a breath of air, “I could ask you the same thing.”

“Well.” You draw out the word, dragging your self to your bed, “I’m going to go to sleep now.” There’s a pause on the line, “Atsumu?” He hums tiredly, “Good night.”

There’s a small snore from him before he shifts around, “Good night.”

The morning light urges you awake, for a second you peak at your phone’s time and it nears ten in the morning. You’re about to throw your phone back onto the bedside table until Atsumu’s name catches your eye. For having gone to bed at three a.m. he shot you a text at seven.

Morning beautiful.

It was sweet, simple, and it made you smile; giving you the extra push to get out of bed. You stalked your own catfish page, there hadn’t seemed to be any updates so there was still time. A quick search of the internet has you picking out a random restaurant nearby and you send off a text to Atsumu about a meeting time.

You were late, pushing through the doors of the restaurant, your eyes scan the place to see him raise a hand for you. He’s dashingly handsome despite being in casual wear, you wonder if he spent time like you did just trying to pick out an outfit or if he spent forever gelling his hair as long as you tried to get your strands into the perfect waves.

“Sorry, did you wait long?” You pull into the seat in front of him.

He’s smiling and you hope to god that when you break the news to him, he’ll still smile for you, “I just got here not too long ago too.” He looks over the menu quickly, “What do you think you’ll get?”

You inspect each dish, a light hum on you as you dance around the option, “The spaghetti sounds nice.”

Atsumu tilts his head, “It has red meat in it.” You stare blankly at him, “Aren’t you allergic to red meat?”

“Oh.” You set the menu down, “Actually.” He follows your actions, you’ve become nervous at what you’re suddenly about to do, “There’s something you should know.”

“Fuck this!” Atsumu throws the napkin on the table, you jump as he harshly stands, throwing the chair back.

“Atsumu.” You stand.

“No! Don’t. Were you just messing with me then? Did Osamu tell you I was going to be at the bar last night?” Atsumu’s fist ball, “You know what, whatever.”

“Wait.” You follow him behind, “Atsumu. I’m sorry.”

He harshly turns to you, god, even in sunlight you were beautiful to him. He wants to laugh, the month he spent talking to the fake you; yeah that was all bullshit to him but honestly when he saw you last night, when he spent over four hours actually talking to you; he actually felt that maybe this could be something deeper.

“I’m really sorry, I know I should have said something right away.” You have a soft pout on you and it makes him outwardly groan.

He runs a hand through his hair, “Okay, it’s fine. I probably deserved this prank too anyways; must have pissed him off somehow.” He waves a hand, “You can just go back to doing whatever.”

Your hand pulls on his wrist, “I owe you a meal.” You bat your eyes with a cheeky grin, “If you take pictures of me, we can send them to Suna and use the money for our food.”

“Oh.” He begins to smile, “I like that idea.”

Back into Osamu’s office, Atsumu has now pulled you onto his lap, your head resting on his shoulder with arms hanging around his shoulders. The two bachelors stare at the sickly loving sight.

A lightbulb goes off in Suna’s head, “Wait! My money!”

You snort a laugh into Atsumu’s shoulder, “Hey, I earned that fair and square. You paid for goods.”

Osamu is having a staring contest with his brother, “So you two have been actually dating for two months? Why would you still message the catfish account then, why not just kick my ass when you found out?”

Atsumu taps a finger on his chin, “Well, I was just originally going to ghost you guys but then babe here and I discovered that we could fund all of our dates with Suna’s money. We even started setting aside leftover cash from our dates to plan a trip.”

You giggle, “We’re going to Disney next weekend.”

“All the pictures.” Suna whispers.

There’s an amused hum in your throat, “Honestly I’m surprised you guys didn’t figure it out. We were dropping hints in the photos.”

Indeed, the two males looked at the pictures you sent them. If they backtracked to two months ago, there wouldn’t be any hints but the closer they get to the present; it was painfully obvious. They were just too caught up in their excitement to even notice. In one photo, part of Atsumu’s shoulder and hair was just barely in the picture; another had his reflection vividly displayed in the window of the restaurant, and somehow Osamu and Suna missed the obvious Black Jackals jacket sitting on the back of the chair next to you.

The two boys were having a mental breakdown.

You shifted on Atsumu’s lap, leaning forward to tap against the top of Osamu’s phone, “Now, if you’d please deactivate the account since this whole charade is over.”

Osamu ended up not deleting the account. He set the account to private because seeing how his brother was so deeply entranced by you, Osamu had a feeling this one was going to last and he was right; on Atsumu’s wedding day, his little best-man speech had him whipping out the catfish Instagram to display on the monitor for everyone to see.

#haikyuu #haikyuu scenarios #haikyuu x reader #atsumu x reader #atsumu scenarios #osamu #suna #atsumu

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dnf-fic-recs · 2 years

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Do you know any more long fics? I saw your last post and devoured the fics in it, and I was wondering if you have any more

The Dream Doll by PeppDream (pep_pizza) is 10 chapters long, completed, and adorable!!

When George bought that creepy doll from that creepy antique shop, he had planned on stuffing it into a drawer and never having to look at it again. The last thing he expected was for the doll to become a blonde boy wearing a piss-colored hoodie.

There's No Mistletoe Above Our Heads But I'll Kiss You Anyways by jungkooksfic is 15 chapters

“I’d love for you to come George, but you do realize that I’m not out, right?”

Ah, there it is. The fact that Clay isn’t out until his family. A minor detail.

George, before fighting better judgement, says, “we could just pretend we’re not dating?”

Clay has the grand idea to take George home to meet his parents, but there's one teeny-tiny detail he didn't tell them about:

He's gay, and George is his boyfriend.

(Or, Clay and George have to pretend they haven't been dating for nearly two years, and George is a really terrible liar.)

Like Magic by KangarooKen & SpiderSpawn is 26 chapters and ongoing

“Don’t you get it?” Dream said to him in an excited whisper, eyes alight with joyous realization. “You—you’re magical, George!”

“What does that mean?”

“It means you’re like me!”

When George first met the tall, freckled child who called himself Dream, he thought the other boy was bonkers. Strange clothes, a foreign accent, a closely-guarded secret — what was George supposed to make of his new next-door neighbor?

Despite the newcomer’s strangeness, the two boys quickly forge a friendship. George soon realizes that he and Dream have a lot more in common than he first thought.

//Dreamnotfound Hogwarts AU//

Crown of Straw, Sword of Gold by opheliaboo is 46 chapters and completed

It was an odd feeling, to be around someone you neither liked nor were liked by nearly twenty-four hours a day, but George had grown used to it. When his kingdom is invaded and his life thrown into chaos, King George begins to realize how hard it is to maintain enemyship with the man who keeps saving his life.

Dreamland by tbhyourelame is the ever popular Heat Waves & Helium fanfiction! Heat Waves is 12 chapters and Helium is 10 so far and ongoing! I know it's a very common fanfiction but it is incredibly well written, so if you haven't already check it out I would!

Heat Waves - Mature

Dream has always held a gentle admiration for George, but when their nuanced friendship trickles into his sleeping mind, he awakens to a new world of conflicting emotions and longing. Lost in the midst of a heat wave, he continuously listens to a song that works itself in to the very core of his heartache. Floridian nights, unsent messages, spiraling infatuation, and terrible, terrible weather.

A breath of frustration escapes George’s lips. “I don’t do that.”

“You do. It’s okay,” Dream says. He feels pinpricks of warmth building in his chest. The words rise up faster than he can temper, laced with soft honey, “you’re so cute.”

The call falls silent.

They heard it. The affection in the tone of his voice, different than usual, no trace of humor. The way it came from the hearth below his heart, glowing with secrecy and shame—for George, and George only. They had to have heard it. -- inspired by the song "heat waves" by glass animals

Helium - Mature

After years of online calls, late night texting, and out of sync sleep schedules, Sapnap and George finally visit Florida. Dream's aspiration to truly know himself is met with the return of missed chances, and uncertainty. Placed in the dead center of his humid, overwhelming life, he and George are bound to confront the inevitable.

“Has it rained?” George asks suddenly.

Dream’s thoughts snap away from the drifting green and cloudless sky, returning to earth once more. His lips part in silence.

George’s voice was soft when he'd uttered the words, and for a reason he cannot place, Dream finds himself glancing to the back of Sapnap’s head before responding, “Since...summer?”

#dnf #dreamnotfound #dnf fic #dreamnotfound fic #dnf fic recs #dramnotfound fic recs #asks #recommended by mod #recommended by holiday

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littleoddwriter · 3 years

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Heavy Heart | Roman Sionis x Male!Reader

Another Vent Fic, sorry. This time with Arrowverse!Roman Sionis (Batwoman Season 2), though. The episodes still aren’t out here, but I think I’ve seen enough Clips to at least get his voice and feel right. Sorry if not (in case anyone even ends up reading this).

summary; You’re struggling with personal issues, regarding your interpersonal relationships. Roman unexpectedly shows up at your doorstep and you have a heart-to-heart.

notes; Male!Reader; Reader has Borderline Personality Disorder; Favourite Person (FP); Rejection; Abandonment Issues; Spiralling; Mild Dissociation; Self-Harm (Scratching and Cutting); Blood; Hurt/Comfort; Unexpected Visit; Love Confessions; Soft Kisses; Hugs; Little Dialogue.

It’s only been a couple of months, since you and Roman have started dating. Honestly, you’d never expected it to happen at all. You’ve been his assistant at Janus Cosmetics for over two years at that point, while you’ve been silently crushing on him the entire time. So to say that you were ecstatic about the fact that he liked you, too, would’ve been an understatement.

Naturally, as it always happened, Roman has become your new Favourite Person all too quickly and crushingly. Of course, at this point in your still blooming relationship you couldn’t care less, because you were happy, you were on top of the world when you only thought about him and the way he kissed you and wrapped his arms around your waist.

Still, in the back of your mind, this tiny voice kept reminding you that every time you’ve had an FP in your life, it didn’t end well; and it never lasted very long – a year tops, maybe. So, you were cautious, like you always were. You were hyper aware of everything you said and did around him; how often you texted him; how fast you responded to him; how many gifts you made for him and how much time passed in-between them. All so you wouldn’t fuck it up by being too much or too little. You were desperately trying to find this golden balance between it all.

The last time you had a Favourite Person wasn’t too long ago, actually. They had still been it when Roman has asked you on your first date with him. But not even a week afterwards, they had suddenly stopped responding to your texts and ignored you. They had never tried to contact you again and you were far too afraid and anxious to do it on your own accord after too much time has passed already. After all, you had already convinced yourself that they had lost interest in you and hated your guts all of a sudden.

Of course, you had tried to forget about them, which was made a little easier by the fact that your entire focus was on one Roman Sionis. Still, it didn’t prevent you from thinking about this supposed friend at least once a day, if not more, and wondering where it had gone wrong and if the same would happen with Roman very soon. It was bound to happen after all, and since this particular friendship had ended so very suddenly after not even four months, you could only fear how long your relationship with Roman would last.

Every single day, you tried your damnedest not to ponder too much and let anxiety overtake your body. Instead, you attempted to just focus on Roman and how much you loved him, which was a whole lot and far too much, to the point where it caused your chest to hurt. Often times, you wondered if it would be acceptable of you to already say those three particular words to him, or if that would ruin everything. You were incredibly uncertain, and he never seemed as though he was going to say them any time soon. Either way, you forced yourself to be patient and not fuck everything up again.

The fact that Roman had asked you out, even though he very much knew about your BPD diagnosis had shocked you to your core, but it somewhat calmed you down to know that it wasn’t a secret between you two (you had even checked in with him if he really knew upon his question). Still, you often wondered if he was truly aware of how much baggage you had on your shoulders and just how exhausting it could be to be in a relationship with a person who had this particular disorder – not only for you, but for him as well.

As the months have stretched on with barely an incident between you two, you had allowed yourself to get a tiny bit more comfortable. Whether or not you should regret it was beyond you, when your best friends have suddenly ceased to respond to your texts and more and more people around you have seemed to ignore you. At first you’ve given it all some time and tried not to jump to conclusions, because you knew they were all busy with their own lives and weren’t always in the mood to talk or text – and you respected that, you knew exactly what that was like.

But as two days have turned into four and essentially a whole week, you couldn’t help yourself anymore.

Feelings of utter loneliness and rejection overcame you in waves. You’ve been short of crying every couple of minutes; your chest hurt so much; your skin felt so tight – you desperately wanted to claw it off.

Then, you started to isolate yourself more and more. At work, you acted mostly normal, just like always – putting on this mask of being fine and a good worker – when in reality, your entire world was falling apart piece by piece.

None of it went past Roman, of course, he was way too perceptive for that. But when he asked you what was wrong, you deflected the question and said that it wasn’t important, it would be okay in a few hours or days anyway.

That wasn’t the case, though.

It didn’t get better at all. The feelings just wouldn’t go away. Every time you looked at your phone and saw all the unanswered messages you’d sent out to people weeks and months ago made your heart heavy and your chest tighten painfully. The more time passed, the worse it got.

Eventually, you also just couldn’t help wondering about Roman and doubting his interest in you. Was he truly interested in you at all? Would he have enough of you soon? Would he drop you gently or harshly? Would you even still have a job when he did? Fuck, it certainly wasn’t the best idea to date your boss, was it?

As you sat at your desk at home, preparing Roman’s schedule for the next week, your phone suddenly pinged. Immediately you took it into your hands to see if it was Roman – he was the only one who you were talking to at all anymore, after all. But then you saw that it was your previous Favourite Person, the one right before Roman. They had reacted to something you had posted on social media. They had commented on it as though they hadn’t suddenly stopped talking to you months ago.

As soon as you saw it, your eyes burned with tears that suddenly pricked them, your heart clenched so painfully and your skin was crawling. You were hurt and confused. It was all too much.

Just half an hour before that you had exchanged a few texts with an acquaintance you had on social media, which was as unfulfilling as it always had been. They clearly didn’t care about you, since they would never once truly ask how you were feeling, but in fact only talked about themselves and their life’s struggles. You were nothing but a tool for them to vent their worries to without an ounce of care in what you had to say in the least. It was a role you’d been very much used to, but it didn’t make it hurt any less.

So, naturally all of this was a lot for you to process – too much, really – and you felt so many negative emotions all at once. They were crushing you. You were in agony.

As the urge to hurt yourself to relieve the emotional pain and exchange it with a temporary physical one overcome you, you forced yourself to take a few deep breaths and distract yourself first, before you did something you would later regret.

Unfortunately, it only lasted for a few minutes at a time, as the urge became bigger and your anguish stronger.

Only a few hours later, you decided to shower and as soon as you got dressed, you couldn’t even think twice before your fingernails met your neck’s skin and scratched it open. You stared at yourself in the mirror as your hands just kept on moving, all across your neck and collarbones, scratching away intensely until it was bright red, irritated and bleeding.

For a moment, you inspected the fresh wounds.

It still wasn’t enough.

You quickly disinfected the irritated, scratched-open areas and then proceeded to take out the small blade you kept in the drawer below your bathroom sink. Then, you pressed it against your inner forearm and drew a small, deep line with it, causing blood to well up instantly as sharp pain shot through you. You set the blade down and squeezed around your wound, forcing out more blood. You desperately needed to see it flow out of you.

A few seconds passed and you took the blade back into your hand and rested it a few inches below your fresh cut.

You hesitated.

Shaking your head, you put it back into the drawer and instead nursed your still bleeding wound.

After all, you’ve already done more than enough damage.

The loud and sudden ringing of your doorbell startled you and you quickly, but quietly, walked towards your apartment door to look through the peephole. Roman stood in front of your door.

Were you supposed to meet him and you forgot amidst all the pain you’ve been in?

Nervously, you opened the door and smiled at him. It hurt to smile. You could only guess how strained it must have looked, not to forget the angry red and mildly bleeding wounds on your neck that you had no way of hiding, then.

“Roman, wh- what are you doing here? Sorry, uh, come in first, maybe,” you stammered out your awkward greeting, stepping to the side to let Roman into your apartment, while your heart violently hammered against your rib cage.

“I’m sorry for suddenly coming by, but I’ve actually been in the area and thought I could pay you a little visit. I missed you,” he replied as he walked past you and hung his coat on the hook on the wall, “Besides, I tried to let you know by sending you a text, but I suppose you were busy showering by the looks of it.”

“Oh- yeah. Yes, sorry. It’s okay, though. I missed you, too. I’m glad to see you,” you responded softly, nervously looking around the room and avoiding his eyes.

Suddenly his arms wrapped around your waist and pulled you close, your bodies flush against one another. His left arm travelled up and around when he cupped your cheek with his hand and gently stroked his thumb over it, before he leaned in to kiss you on the lips. You were entirely too overwhelmed and still a little beside yourself, but you reciprocated the chaste kiss automatically and put your arms around his shoulders.

When he broke the kiss, he looked you over. You could feel the shame crawling beneath your skin, making you feel far too hot.

“I didn’t catch you at a good time, did I?” he inquired quietly, grazing his fingers over the wounds on your neck so very lightly so as not to hurt you more.

Because of how tight your throat felt, you could only shake your head and avert your gaze.

Roman heaved a deep sigh and kissed your forehead softly, “It’s okay, sweetheart. You don’t have to hide from me,” he murmured against your brow, “May I ask what’s caused this?”

Hesitating, you opened and closed your mouth a couple of times, so short of crying again, as you thought about whether or not it would scare him off if you told him the truth. In the end, you nodded, though.

“Let’s sit down first, please. Can I get you something to drink?” you said brokenly, daring to look at him for a second.

“Water, please.”

Quickly, you walked into the kitchen and got Roman a glass of water, while he sat down on your couch in the living room. Your hand was shaking when you passed him the glass and he looked at you with such a soft expression that it took your breath away.

Why wasn’t he up and running already?

When you sat down next to him, he set the glass down on the table in front of you two and put his arm around you, once more pulling you close against him. Your sides pressed together and you allowed yourself to rest your head against his shoulder.

“You can tell me as much or as little as you want, okay, my sweet boy?” he told you softly and kissed your temple shortly.

Nodding, you inhaled deeply and exhaled a shuddery breath. Then, you started to tell him everything that’s been going on lately and how much it all hurt. Sometime into your explanation the tears that have burned your eyes started to flow and run down your reddened face, leaving painful streaks behind. All the while, Roman was quietly shushing you and rubbing your upper arm soothingly, and peppering gentle kisses on the top of your head.

When you were done talking, you squeezed your eyes shut and pressed your entire body into Roman’s side in an attempt to both vanish and be close to him one last time, before he would leave you (at least that was what you’ve expected to happen anyway).

Instead, Roman wrapped his other arm around you as well and embraced you tightly, lovingly.

“I’m not going to leave you, baby. I’m not going anywhere. It angers me to know how much pain people have caused you in your life, especially as of late, but I won’t be one of them, alright?” he assured you and kissed your temple once more. “I love you, Y/N.”

Stopping to breathe altogether, you could barely believe what you’ve just heard.

Despite your disbelief, you choked out a quiet “I love you, too, Roman. So much”.

The issues that caused you so much pain in the first place may not have been solved with it, but you felt a little more secure in your relationship with Roman now, at least. That way, you could now quiet down these nagging thoughts in the back of your mind that kept telling you that he was going to drop you any second.

Sighing deeply, you relaxed a little and wrapped your arms around Roman’s middle as you pressed your face into his chest.

For the time being, you could pretend that everything was going to be alright.

#tw self harm #x male reader #male reader #male reader insert #roman sionis #roman sionis x male reader #roman sionis fanfiction #black mask #black mask fanfiction #peter outerbridge #cw batwoman #batwoman roman sionis #arrowverse #arrowverse roman sionis

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cheri-translates · 3 years

Text

[CN] Traveling with you - Victor

🍒 Warning: This post contains detailed spoilers for an event, 与你同游, which has not been released in English servers! 🍒

This is an event for Chinese New Year, where you get to visit a Spring Festival Temple Fair with the love interests :>

Players are able to select the order in which they visit various locations, so they aren’t meant to be in chronological order!

Prologue: here

More: Gavin l Kiro l Lucien l Shaw

🌹 TEXT 🌹

MC: Mm, hmph.

Victor: Are you done with your work review?

MC: ???

MC: It’s prohibited to talk about work after working hours.

Victor: You stick to the rules when it comes to these things.

Victor: Why did you message me?

MC: Ooh... could you accompany me to the Loveland Spring Festival Temple Fair this year?

Victor: Give me a reason.

Victor: Don’t tell me it’s because you want to try different types of milk tea again?

MC: I vow to the heavens that I won’t rush to the snacks this time!

Victor: ...it’s truly easy to guess the thoughts of a dummy.

Victor: So when’s the temple fair?

MC: It has already started. Since we’re on the topic, shall we take a look tomorrow?

Victor: You could consider changing your habit of acting on the spur of the moment.

MC: Mister, it’s already close to the Spring Festival, so can’t you agree to the tiny request of your diligent and sincere, 10/10 employee?

Victor: I could get Goldman to adjust my schedule, but your work review report can’t be delayed.

MC: Yes, CEO Victor! I’ll see you at the temple fair tomorrow then, goodnight.

Victor: Rest early, and don’t make a fuss about not being able to walk tomorrow.

Victor: Goodnight.

🌹 Location: Traditional Snacks Stall 🌹

I sink into deep contemplation at the sight of various posters.

Victor: It’s unlike you to hesitate on what to eat.

MC: I’m not hesitating about what to eat, but worrying about whether or not they’re delicious. After all, I'm someone who has grown used to Souvenir, so I won’t be swayed easily.

Thinking about the sweet fragrance of pudding, my eyes sparkle at the sight of a pile of boxes at a particular stall.

Victor: Boss, I’ll have two boxes of flour pastries.

[Note] The actual cake is called 步步糕 (“bu bu gao”), but there isn’t an English name for it.

MC: I didn’t really expect you to buy such traditional flour pastries.

Victor: Aunt Grace likes them, so there used to be some at home every year during the festival. Why? Is it very strange?

MC: Not really... I just didn’t think you’d pick it unhesitatingly despite the variety of snacks here.

Victor: Weren’t you staring at it earlier?

After being stunned for a moment, I grin while opening the cover, stuffing a piece into Victor’s mouth.

This Spring Festival is fragrant and sweet. It tastes like clouds.

🌹 Location: Firecrackers Stall 🌹

Setting off firecrackers is pretty dangerous. If you’re a minor, do light them up only when supervised!

Victor looks at me, and I return his stare confidently.

MC: I. Do. Not. Need. Guidance.

Purchasing the spiral firecracker I eyed earlier, I head to an empty spot. Setting the rope alight, I toss it out.

Crackle--

Sparks burst along with the spinning fireworks. I tug on Victor’s sleeve, pulling his dazed self a little further away.

MC: Isn’t it really interesting? Want to try it for yourself?

Victor: ...I'm not interested.

Despite what he says, Victor takes another look at the spiral firecracker.

MC: Didn’t you play with these mini firecrackers when you were young?

Victor: When I was young... I didn’t really understand them.

Come to think of it, Victor had a strict upbringing, and it was probably very difficult for him to come into contact with such things.

MC: It’s okay. Let’s make up for it with these little amusements today.

🌹 Location: Auspicious Stall 🌹

A little different from the usual traditional fortune sticks, the “Auspicious Booth” involves slips of paper tied onto red strings. There are ladders provided, allowing visitors to step onto them to retrieve the slips.

But with Victor’s height, he just needs to stretch his arm.

He retrieves a slip of paper that I have my eye on.

MC: It’s reads “Great Blessing”!

Victor: Don’t celebrate too early.

The moment he finishes speaking, the people who step down from ladders behind us raise their slips in excitement.

Passer-by A: Amazing! “Great Blessing”!

Passer-by B: I also picked “Great Blessing”!

Victor: Mm, not bad. There’s quite a high probability.

MC: ...wait! I’ll look at the words again! Look, it says “Luck will follow in the coming year, and you’ll become the support of people close to you.” Victor, I might become an important person to you this year.

Victor gives me a deep look, then chuckles.

Victor: In that case, I wish that your accomplishments this year can match this “importance”.

🌹 Location: Game Stall 🌹

Victor and I wait in the queue at the pitch-pot game area.

[Note] Pitch-pot is a traditional East Asian game that requires players to throw sticks from a distance into a large canister!

Approximately half an hour later, eight arrows are finally handed to us.

Victor lifts one, subconsciously tugging on the plume.

Before I can react, he tosses it.

The tip of the arrow successfully strikes the ear of the canister, falling onto the ground.

MC: ...

Victor: ...

MC: Victor, successful people not only have to invest. They also have to throw the arrow into the canister.

Victor doesn’t look at me. Pursing his lips, the second arrow responds with a thud.

Clatter-- it falls straight into the canister.

The surrounding crowd releases a series of fervent applause.

Meanwhile, I don’t have such luck, and fail to get even one in.

MC: My profits were supposed to pour in from all sides...

With a half-smile, Victor places the prize into my hand - it’s an antique coin.

Victor: Here it is.

🌹 Location: New Year Handmade Items Stall 🌹

Taking the paper and pen from the stall owner, I lean towards Victor in an ingratiating manner.

MC: In this new year, my wish can be summarised in three words: “A Sudden Windfall!” If you draw the Spring Festival picture, it’d be more effective.

Giving in to my repeated requests, Victor ponders for a moment before very quickly drawing a long-haired figure on the red sheet.

The little figure is carrying an ingot in her right hand, and a proposal in her left, her eyes crinkled into crescents..

Victor: Satisfied?

MC: One thing’s missing.

Taking the pen from his hand, I mimic what he did earlier, drawing a short-haired figure which looks dead serious, next to “me”.

MC: Since the stall owner said that the Spring Festival picture symbolises the wonderful expectations for the new year, it definitely can’t do without you.

Victor: So why is this “Victor” carrying a pig?

MC: ...it’s obviously a pudding! Oh yes, want me to draw you a picture? I think you could hang it in the office.

Victor: No need. Looking at you is sufficient.

#mlqc #mlqc cn #mlqc spoilers #mlqc victor

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selfships-in-spanish · 3 years

Text

The Queen of Demons

Pairing: Erwin Smith x OC, Levi Ackerman x OC

Rating: Gen (the rating will go up as the story advances! But it will totally be explicit ;D)

Warnings: None for now, but sexist and misogynist upbringing (Eva's father is a huge asshole).

Word Count: 2.085

ALSO POSTED ON AO3

A/N: This is it! The first chapter of the Arranged Marriage!AU I've been working and drawing about! I'll be posting it on AO3 too since I don't know if Tumblr will screw me over again and give me trouble for posting text >_> This wouldn't be possible without @spirit-in-the-library's help, so I got so much to thank my friend for <3 I really hope you enjoy the story, I've got so much written and planned already jajajaja Enjoy!

CHAPTER 1: THE PATH TOWARDS PERDITION

The scenery before her was breathtakingly beautiful, although it sent her a chill down her spine as she knew she went further into the unknown and her sealed fate. Snow was pretty, but silent and deadly too, and these woods weren’t familiar to her. The serene landscape didn’t calm her as it should have, only sending her nerves into a spiral of never-ending anxiety.

The cold bit at her hands and feet, the carriage did what it could in matters of isolating the cold, and she burrowed further into the thick winter coat, clinging desperately to it. Her handmaiden, Flora, looked pitiful too, her cloak not as thick as Eva’s. They tried to talk to ease both their minds, but it turned out it was better to let silence reign over them and try to enjoy the ride and the scenery as much as they could. Eva had never ventured this far when she accompanied her brothers on their diplomatic missions, Flora always excitedly travelling with her, eager to know the neighbouring kingdoms and people; she was a social hurricane and always ended up making friends with all the other maids (Eva made sure Flora could send letters and gifts, often pulling strings herself to make sure the packages were delivered safely), so both women knowing this was their final travel sent a freezing cold knot deep in their guts.

Eva saw Flora shiver, and with a tiny smile she scooted over, making room for her handmaiden under her cloak.

“Come here, I don’t want you to freeze.”

“Your skirt will wrinkle, your Highness.”

“As if it wasn’t wrinkled enough from sitting here for God knows how many hours. Come here, you stubborn mule.”

Flora snorted but obeyed, not wanting to be in the cold any longer. Eva covered them both, cuddling and letting out a sigh as she let her cheek rest on Flora’s head, looking out of the carriage’s window. She always hated the cold.

Eva probably dozed off while Flora was talking about some silly nothings, lulled by the rocking of the carriage and the shared warmth under her thick winter cloak. She realised Flora put her hood on so she didn’t let her neck stick out for too long.

“Good morning, sleeping beauty! I won’t let Diana know you fell asleep listening to her epic romance with the guard captain’s son.”

“God, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to. Please don’t tell her, she wouldn’t stop reminding me of it.” Eva rubbed her temples, still hazy.

“Your secret is safe with me.” Flora crossed her heart and looked at Eva trying to stifle a giggle. She failed, and both women laughed out loud, picturing Diana’s irked expression and waving hands.

They kept looking out of the window, enjoying the small moments as this one; they both knew they would be sparse now.

The landscape outside the window changed, having less never-ending fields of pure white snow and heavily covered trees and mountains, to more fenced fields with cattle and horses roaming around with some lonesome wooden houses in an architectural style so different from the ones back home.

Eva’s heart thumped painfully in her chest, knowing the carriage ride was about to end as they neared the fearsome warrior’s village walls. Flora squeezed her when the carriage came to a stop, trying to reassure the princess upon seeing the gate guards on the entrance talking with the royal soldiers at the start of the entourage, and the tremendous amount of people running around inside the village as both women peeked from the cold glass. They looked at each other in a silent and mutual exchange of comfort.

The townsfolk stopped on their tracks upon seeing the carriages entering the village, their gazes wary and distrustful, a contrast to the children shouting excitedly at the shiny armour the royal guards wore. Their mothers stood proudly, in defiance, reminding Eva of the fierce stray cats that roamed the Royal Palace gardens, hissing and standing tall whenever someone approached their kittens. Eva recalled the talk she overheard of Father and his advisors about this nation of warriors, how every single one of them had the blood of a terrifying fighter running inside their veins, how every single member of their society was trained to enter combat. Demons , that’s what her Father called them more than once, The Demons of Eldia. Whether that was true or not, Eva was downright terrified. Hostility was clear in their eyes and postures, not happy at seeing foreigners entering freely their territory. How did Father suppose she could survive this?

The carriages kept going, entering further into the maze of beautifully crafted houses. Flora parted from her embrace with Eva, knowing they would step out of the secluded space soon, and would need to make Eva look as if she hadn’t spent countless hours inside a wooden box; she had to make a perfect first impression. Eva wondered how different the village would look without all the snow covering every inch of it. Would it look as intimidating, but still beautiful, as it looked now?

Lost in her thoughts and Flora’s fussing, the entourage stopped in front of the biggest house Eva saw until now. It was massive, artfully crafted by the best artisans when it was built. Intricate markings decorated the wooden pillars holding everything together, and Eva could tell they had a meaning for these people. Right in front of the steps Eva saw more Eldian warriors, and in the middle stood those who Eva guessed probably were the welcoming party. She wondered how this Chief her father gave her hand into marriage was. Would he be a decrepit old man? A greedy one with lecherous fingers? A barbarian who would only use her for his own gratification? Was this Chief so entitled to himself and his pride that he would not even step down his throne, or the equivalent these people used, to greet them properly? What saddened her deeply was how her brothers, Hans and Friederich, agreed with Father.

Her questions would be answered in just a moment, hearing how the other two carriages, where her older brothers were, opened their doors, their heavy boots falling down the snow with a solid thud. Both women heard voices and movement outside. It was time.

“Remember, your Highness,” Flora began, giving her hands a final squeeze. “You have the strength to proudly hold your head high. The people of Gottesreich are by your side in here.” Flora touched with her finger where Eva’s heart was. “And I will be right behind you.

Eva let out a shaky exhale, a trembling smile on her lips.

“Thank you, Flora.”

The door of the carriage opened and a gush of freezing cold air hit both women. Flora tightened her cloak around her and waited patiently for Eva to exit first. It was Friederich who came to get her, gracing Eva with a tired smile while he offered his hand to help her out. Eva delicately posed her hand on the outstretched hand of his brother, the other pulling slightly up the skirt of the dress so she wouldn’t accidentally step on it and cause a scene. God forbid that happened, she couldn’t afford any humiliating mishaps of any kind. Eva stepped aside as Friederich also helped Flora out, and turned just once to see her sister following him behind, still with her hood pulled up; that was definitely Flora’s doing, knowing how the woman liked the tiny dramatics. Friederich huffed, amused.

Once they stopped just right next to Hans, his stance truly the epitome of a proud and regal prince, a member of the Eldian welcoming party walked over them, bowing their head lightly and making his light brown hair move.

“The people of Eldia welcomes you, your Highnesses, and hope you had a pleasant and safe trip.” The man had a soothing voice, calm, and such feelings carried into his eyes. “My name is Moblit and I’ll be your interpreter throughout your stay.”

“I’m pleased to make your acquaintance, Moblit. I’m prince Hans Stein, heir to the throne of Gottesreich.” The crown prince bowed, right hand on his chest, and waited for Moblit to translate his words into the Eldian language. Looking at each one of the Eldians of the welcoming party, Hans turned to his other two siblings. “This is the second prince of Gottesreich, and General of our troops, Friederich Stein,” Friederich mimicked his brother, bowing respectfully too with his right hand on his chest as Moblit kept translating. “And last, princess Eva Stein, our younger sister.”

Eva felt her hands tremble and not because of the cold. She could feel everyone’s eyes fixed on her although she kept her own to the floor as her father taught her— never look at them in the eyes, only when you are being presented, but then quickly look away, never speak unless you are being spoken and addressed first, never—

She could do this.

Eva raised her hands, carefully lifting the hood of the cloak so it wouldn’t disturb her hair and tiara, and let it fall gracefully on her shoulders. She raised her head to proudly display her long neck, knowing it was being accentuated by the collar of the dress she was wearing, and looked at each member of the welcoming party before elegantly bowing towards the Eldians while delicately lifting the sides of the dress skirt as she was taught as a child. Once done, Eva returned to the position she was before: gloved hands in front of her, clasped together, head slightly tilted downwards and her eyes refusing to meet anyone’s unless she was required to do so. Father would be proud of how well she performed.

Some warriors whispered to each other, and Eva didn’t know if to feel grateful to not know what were they saying. It was just a quick glimpse as she wasn’t able to properly focus, but, where were the horns? The claws? The evil smiles with mouths full of sharp teeth? Her books depicted Eldia as demons, as creatures taking humanoid forms but with grotesque features. Eva couldn’t help but to feel thoroughly confused at the difference. Were the books wrong? Were they waiting for the right moment to show their true selves...?

A deep baritone voice quieted all the murmurs, speaking in a calm and collected tone that didn’t leave room for questioning. Eva would have called it a beautiful voice if she wasn’t being eaten alive by her fear and anxiety. The voice kept talking, and was now joined by Moblit’s translations. It was time to raise her eyes again.

“We welcome you, your Highnesses, and thank Goddess Maria for your safe journey to our land.” Eva briefly looked at Moblit, and was taken aback by the gentle appearance he displayed; she expected a brute, like her books said, but was met with soft amber eyes and sandy brown hair. Her attention was swiftly moved to the Eldians before them as Moblit gestured towards them. “My name is Erwin Smith, Chief of the proud Eldian tribe, and I’m pleased to make your acquaintance too, your Highnesses.”

Eva’s eyes frantically fixed on the man Moblit was gesturing with his hand and claimed to be the Eldian Chief. Her husband to be. Eva was met with an icy blue gaze and intense like the sea she saw once when she traveled with Hans to a southern kingdom, but Eva noticed a hidden cleverness behind the stern glare. The eyes belonged to a handsome face, with sharp and chiselled features like his cheekbones, a beautiful aquiline nose and thick, blonde brows framing his face. His blonde hair was neatly parted to the side and Eva never saw a haircut such as the one he was displaying, both short and even shorter hair, but judging by the other Eldians, it was a common style. He was big, tall, and Eva saw the true poise and demeanor of a proud warrior. The blue war paint smeared on his face and exposed arms made Eva unconsciously gulp down; he looked terrifying. Even if the Chief was wearing thick clothing, there was no doubt there weren’t feeble sticks for limbs underneath them.

The princess was taken aback, unable to tear her gaze away from the Chief’s ones, and going against all her modal teachings. Those blue eyes were hypnotic and unreadable, like his face.

That was the man she was going to marry.

Erwin Smith.

#attack on titan #shingeki no kyojin #aot #snk #erwin smith #erwin smith x oc #erwin smith x reader #snk fanfiction #aot fanfiction #arranged marriage au #queen of demons #mius writes

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dukeofonions · 3 years

Note

So i finally bothered to watch the new episode.

what...was that.

The wait was for DWIT? Again? Literally the same "the thoughts aren't the issue here, your anxious reaction to them is" problem? Only this time, instead of sitting with the thoughts, cause "ignoring them will only make them worse" and addressing the anxiety to help them go away, we go backwards and get worse at problem solving by logan encouraging distracting himself? The opposite of the start of LNTAO?

He didn't text you back at 4 in the morning so instead of bringing up points made in Logic v Anxiety such as you don't know what they were doing when got text, battery life etc etc, Logan goes "you have low self esteem, let's not try healthier thinking, color instead"?

Literally a simple "You texted him at 4 in the morning. On a weekday. He has a job. He's still at work. It's not even the end of the workday yet. We've been over this before. Chill." would have endedthis entire episode.

Maybe followed by a "Now let's work on self esteem cause you and Roman let outside validation like this effect you too much." if they actually wanted some semblance of continuity. Or better yet a healthier lesson.

But instead we get "We're not ignoring you, Remus. I'm just showing thomas ways to ignore you. Instead of addressing the spiraling anxiety that's helping and enabling you." *eyes glow in anger at being counter-ignored by remus who is ironically currently correct about being currently ignored*

I...

This episode is literally just DWIT with a LNTAO intro if they had just run the endcard right after patton gave out the distractions instead of virgil demanding they stop constantly putting off the issue.

This series is going backwards.

With bonus longer waits. -♠

Kinda funny you say this because once I heard what the plot of this video was gonna be I referred to it as DWIT Redux, and then the title ends up just being a variation of DWIT title so that was fun for me.

But that is actually my one main gripe with this video, as much as I adore it. Even before it came out I was confused when we were told just how Logan was supposed to help Thomas deal with Remus, and that his methods involved him ignoring him entirely and not addressing the issue when Logan literally explains why ignoring Remus is not the way to deal with him.

And like you said he even tells Remus that Thomas shouldn't ignore him, yet that's all he's been having him do all day.

Now I have a tiny speculation as to why this is, but im gonna save that for another post because I'm too exhausted to write it all out now.

You bring up some good points though and I'm definitely gonna talk about this more in depth once I actually have time to write out all my thoughts about the video (and possible predictions for where the series is going) but yeah, once I have a spare moment I'll get to analyzing this video because there's a lot to unpack here.

#dukeofasks #i mean this video is almost perfect technically speaking and i love certain character moments #but as far as whatever they're overall message was supposed to be...#yeah i didn't learn anything about working through anything #so besides hammering in the idea that thomas's life is falling apart and he's not coping properly #along with some more orange side teasing #I'm not sure if the episode really taught anything #or if it was even supposed to #like the episodes are titled in a way that makes it seem like we're gonna learn something #the asides episodes that is #but we never really do learn anything #at least i dont #maybe i just missed it #i dunno #my brain is mush

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soulwillower · 4 years

Text

if you’re too shy • richie tozier

(richie tozier x cam girl!reader smut)

[based off the song if you’re too shy (let me know) by the 1975.]

requested: i can't find it lol BUT 🤍anon (i think) requested a fic based off of the 1975′s new song, if you’re too shy let me know !!

warnings: swearing, alcohol use, switch!richie kinda, smut, unprotected sex, a tiny bit of cumplay i guess, mentions of phone sex, oral sex (female receiving), face sitting, a bit of dirty talking, UNEDITED as always

also i wrote this in a different style than usual and idk if i like it much but u can let me know what u guys think,, if its weird i can go in and change the povs since its 3rd person richie

[losers + reader are 21+ in this.]

7.4k words lol

♡

i see her online all the time i'm trying not to stare down there while she talks about her tough time

"h-hey, man, who's that?" the voice from right next to richie makes him damn near leap out of his seat. it makes beverly chuckle a bit as she takes a bite of her apple, shaking her head. "it’s nobody." richie says quickly as he tilts his phone towards his chest and shoots a toothy grin to bill. his friend raises his full eyebrows, "wh-what, so n-nobody was sending you n-nudes?"

"something like that." richie mutters, stomach fluttering as the image flashes in his mind’s eye - the curves, the dark red lace, the plush skin painting a perfect scene in richie’s vivid imagination.

richie looks back down at the photo. his his thumbs hover over the profile picture; he'd found her originally on his instagram explore page, the photos teasing and immediately he had to know more. y/n.

and then a few days later, he'd subscribed to her only fans, which he never quite thought he'd do with anyone, but he couldn't help it. she was so enticing, so perfect and so alluring. it was the playfulness that pulled him in; and he swears he's never lusted after somebody like he has with her. it was kind of starting to freak him out.

"is that o-onlyfans?" bill says and richie shoves bill's nosy face off his shoulder with a panicked grunt. "fuck off, mushmouth."

bill laughs and stan and bev perk up from across the table, staring at the two, interests suddenly piqued. "did you subscribe to a girl's onlyfans, rich?" stan says with a grin, setting his pen down on his notebook.

richie just smirks and wiggles his brows a bit, enough to confirm his question. bill chuckles from next to richie.

"let me see." bev says, wiggling her manicured nails in a "gimme" motion. richie hands his phone over with red cheeks. normally he wouldn't care about his friends discovering he's paid money just to see a hot chick's bod, but this was different. for some reason, he felt connected to her. god, that thought made him want to slam his head against a brick wall. she doesn't even know him, for all he knows she could live in the middle of.... montana, or like, ohio.

bev whistles and stan nods, "if i looked like that," bev mumbles as she tosses richie's phone back towards him, "i'd do that too. mad props."

noises of agreement fill the table but richie's just looking at the small smirk that peeks from the corner of one of the photos and he can't help but wonder what her eyes are like in real life. he wishes he could meet her.

girl of your dreams, you know what i mean there's something 'bout her stare that makes you nervous and you say things that you don't mean

it's a cold day when bill and richie find themselves stumbling in to the coffee shop for a drink. bill's muttering about some girl in his creative writing class that gave him head when richie's eyes catch a figure so familiar yet foreign that he stops dead in his tracks. bill turns to him, face confused. "r-richie, what's wrong w-with you?"

richie shakes his head, stammering in disbelief, "that-that's her, bill. the girl, from onlyfans. y/n." he whispers, gesturing with his eyes towards the girl working the register.

bill’s jaw goes slack, green eyes raking over her form and igniting richie’s stomach with boiling rage. as if bill’s doing something that only richie is allowed to do – as if they're not both being total creeps.

“h-holy sh-shit. she’s b-beautiful.” bill mumbles. richie elbows him in the ribs, shooting him a glare that prompts an eye-roll from his auburn haired friend.

richie swallows and watches, his throat feeling like sandpaper as she laughs at something the customer in front of them said. bill nudges richie, "i-i'm gonna get a s-seat. t-talk to her."

he winks and grins as he walks away, leaving richie with his reckless self. he thinks he's sweating through his sweater as he walks up, finding himself face-to-face with her. "hi, how can i help you?" she asks, giving him a smile

holyshitholyshitholyshit.

he might've just came right then and there. okay, he's gotta say something cool, something smooth. don't be a dumbass, tozier.

"howdy, sugar. i'll have my coffee like i like my women." his mouth blurts as his brain sirens go off, PUT ON THE BRAKES, RICH – "a hot shock to the lap.”

she glares at him, cheeks light pink and eyebrows pulled together in annoyance and yep, richie's probably going to get hard because of that look but he's also probably going to toss his body off a bridge because what the fuck, tozier?

he can hear bill laughing quietly from a ways away and he quickly shakes his head, muttering quietly, "jail. jail, richard."

"funny." she deadpans, clearly not amused. because of course she isn't.

"sorry, i'll have a black coffee, y/n." he mutters, eyes widening to himself when he realizes she was not wearing a goddamn name tag and he just said her name.

this is a disaster. she gives him a bewildered, slightly creeped out look and if richie wasn't panicking, he'd gape at how she still managed to be effortlessly gorgeous even now.

he sighs, shaking his head, the door of the cafe opening and blowing a gust of frigid air through the warm room. fitting - douche chill.

"look, toots, i don't want this to be weird. i- um, i recognize you." he says, cheeks aflame. she raises a brow, face straight for a few moments, unsure what he means.

it's not long after when recognition flashes over her own face - must have ruled out coffee shop, university and her local gym - and she nods with a tight, almost uncomfortable smile.

he tries not to think of the livestream he watched last night where she showed all her new gifts and modeled lingerie, and how he’d spent his time to himself with his left hand immediately after watching. his cheeks are red with shame.

"okay." is all she says, writing down a scribbled order on the coffee cup. her eyes shoot back up and give richie a once-over that really makes his fingers itch - god, why did he have to be this way?

he almost runs his fingers through his curls but decides against it, eyes opting to focus on her own gorgeous eyes as they meet him. "i'm impressed i have a fan who looks like you, i must say. even if you are a complete jack ass." she purrs and his jaw nearly smacks the floor at its velocity as it flies open.

"what's that supposed to mean?" he asks then with a small grin, flattered at the tiniest of compliments that just barely, in his mind, eclipsed the insult that he so very much deserved.

"i'm saying you're kind of a dick. it's too bad, because you're real cute." she says casually, handing him his change. his stomach flips and butterflies release in his chest, a feeling that he's not felt in almost five years.

but damn, of course he messed up - he got the chance to talk to the hottest girl on earth and he started it by saying an awful joke that wasn't funny at all. of course she though he was a dick, he is one.

he's shocked, though, as he waits for his coffee with bill, who is still snickering into his hand every few moments, to find his coffee cup with extra sharpie scribbled on the white paper. a name.

y/n. and below it is a phone number with a small heart scribbled, and richie can't tell if it's a seven or a one but he figures he'd try every phone number in the damn state if it meant he could fucking text her. holy fuck.

"maybe i would like you better if you took off your clothes i'm not playing with you, baby i think that you should give it a go" she said, "maybe i would like you better if you took off your clothes i wanna see, and stop thinking if you're too shy, then let me too shy, then let me know"

he didn't text her for two days and three hours. yes, he counted it. no, he won't think about why he was obsessing over the numbers - but since the time he'd finally had found the courage to text her today, things have escalated proficiently.

she'd just mentioned how hot it was in her apartment since her heater had gone haywire - even though the winter winds were cold, she'd claimed she was burning up in what she was wearing.

and the mere mention of her clothing had sent richie into somewhat of a spiral, spending at least seven minutes glued to his phone and scrolling through the saved album he had of those photos of her that she'd posted; his sweatpants getting increasingly tight and his palm suddenly aching to slip through the fabric and find some release.

but, in true trashmouth fashion, he apparently needed that sweet, sweet rejection from a hot cam girl he'd somehow weaseled into getting the number of in order to wank off properly, so he types out a text and hits send immediately.

what are you wearing?

and then he almost vomits in embarrassment – what was she going to think? did he just royally fuck up? oh god, he’s going to have to shave his head and move to canada.

his phone buzzes and he nearly passes out when he lays his eyes upon the image attached – there her body is again, curvy and full and beautiful, her skin glowing in the fading light of what he assumes is her bedroom. and with it:

this. what are you wearing, rich?

and then he pulls his gaze from his phone and stands, breathing heavily because holy shit.

he's gotten nudes before, but.... none from someone like her. holy shit.

he walks to his bathroom, splashing water on his beet-red cheeks. he swallows, staring at himself in the mirror. fuck.

he slaps his cheek once, then winking at himself in attempt to muster any sliver of confidence. and then he snaps a picture, only in his boxers.

and then he has to physically refrain from making a joke about wearing the same lingerie set as her, instead sending a flirty text that he knows any other woman would blush at. he just doesn’t know with y/n, and maybe that’s why he loves it so much. she's keeping him on his toes.

you like what you see?

he sends that one afterwards, shaking his head because oh my god, she's going to respond with "no" and then bill him $40 for the nude she sent him. not that he wouldn't pay, but...

his phone dings and he nearly breaks an ankle running to his desk.

yeah, i do. but maybe i'd like you better without any clothes on.

he almost yells out loud at this, but he has a feeling that waking up stan in the middle of the night would not be optimal after their 'roommate agreement' they'd made that explicitly states richie cannot scream between 1am - 9am. so instead he smirks to himself, face turning red.

he's getting harder by the moment, and as he stares at that picture she'd sent earlier, he lets out a breathy groan. the lace....

we could face time yk

or we don't have to.

he reads her words in live time, watching the thought bubble appear again and watching it like a hawk. he can just imagine her sitting there with a small smirk as another text comes in and he almost groans as his dick twitches.

like, if you're too shy or something ;)

he stares at the screen for two seconds at that sinful photo she'd sent just before those texts and then sighs, shaking his head and pressing the green face-time call button.

i've been wearing nothing every time i call you and i'm starting to feel weird about it sometimes it's better if you think about it this time, i think i'm gonna drink through it

three days later, richie was undeniably and unequivocally drunk. but, as he's just explained about three times to mike, he knows that it is just easier to not think right, especially about her, right now - and the best way to do that is by getting so piss drunk that even if he tried to "hit her line," as he so eloquently put it, his dick would be too whiskey'd out to make a full appearance.

it's for the best. mike had fake gagged at richie’s cadence with a laugh, but richie was dead serious because he was starting to think he had a real issue.

it was obviously just a fun thing to do between two near-strangers, but he'd found that he was starting to almost pavlov-style condition himself into getting turned on every time the name y/n came across his recent texts or face times, and it was getting to be too much.

especially when her post notification popped up and he cracked a fatty in the middle of his econ lecture. christ, the point of elasticity of markers in the u.s. was not something he pictured when he usually had to quell a pitch in his tent. so yeah, it's too much.

because yes, he loves her fucking body and wants nothing more than her, but in truth he longs for the feeling of her skin against his; to touch her, to kiss her, to make her his. all the time.

but yet, it was just a good way to get off without all the strings and ribbons and yarn and whatever the fuck her soft-looking knit bra is made from attached.

so much for not thinking about her.

but i see her online (and don't think that i should be calling) all the time (i just wanted a happy ending) and i'm pretending i don't care about her stare while she's giving me a tough time

it’s noon the next day and he's laying in (for some reason) stan's bed instead of his own with a blinding, mind-splitting headache and an insatiable craving for a cheeseburger, eyes squinting in lust and something akin to shame as he watches the livestream y/n had just started. she’s in a slip – a very thin, silk and see through slip and it makes him more frustrated than he’s willing to admit.

as he stares at her smooth skin and wonders how it'd be to touch it all, her eyes catch something in the chat and she smiles coyly. "hi, rich." she purrs and richie almost chokes - holy shit, she saw him join.

"do you like my gift i just got?" she asks coyly, snapping the straps of her bra with a small smile and he stiffens almost instantly, thinking of how many times he'd seen her skin in videos and photos that were just for him.

how she'd moaned his name two nights ago on face time, her fingers buried inside herself slightly off-camera. and oh, how he wishes he could see all of her, but they'd not crossed that line yet - anything they'd done hadn't been yet proven visually, only from facial expressions, noises, and the brutal honestly of being together through face time.

he wants her so fucking bad, he needs her like he needs water to drink and air to breathe and it's murdering him as he watches her react to the chat of her livestream, playing with the hem of her black lace panties.

god, he needs a cold shower or something if he's going to get anything done today.

and then he's calling her an a few hours after her stream ends because he just can't wait - he feels his stomach twist with shame as he realizes he should not be doing such a certainly a terrible idea. but she answers after three rings. "richie." her siren voice purrs and he literally feels himself fall deeper into the pit.

"hi there, toots. got any coffee in the pot for me?" he asks, sounding surprisingly eloquent compared to how she normally makes him feel.

she hums in fake thought, and it makes richie grin. she's fucking adorable. "come to the shop, i have my break in ten." and then she hangs up. he sighs, rubbing his face with his hand as he shakes his head. he's utterly fucked.

he's there in record time, a smirk plastered on his face as he walks in and sees her sitting at a table, lookin' all pretty. just for him.

"what made you think of calling?" she says in loo of a greeting. he sits across from her and wills his eyes to meet hers. "nothin' toots." he says with a half shrug, taking a sip of the coffee placed in front of him that has the the name 'dick' written on it in her handwriting. he rolls his eyes affectionately.

"oh, so it wasn't anything to do with my livestream this morning?" she asks with a look, eyeing him. her eyes are swimmable, they hold so many stories and secrets and maybe richie's just hungover, but he's feeling very flustered.

"we-w, uh, no. what... what are you talking about?" he rolls his eyes at himself inwardly, cursing stuttering bill and his contagious speech patterns. "-i don't know what you're talking about, sugar." he recovers fairly smoothly, if he may toot his own horn. and honestly, he can pretend not to care as long as he doesn't look into that goddamn stare of hers.

he chuckles awkwardly, cheeks aflame as she stares at him with a bored look and a small hum. she still looks perfect and he's even more nervous now, because oh god, oh fuck, he's gonna get slapped in the face by y/n.

it was pretty unspoken since they'd started doing... stuff... that richie probably still watched her content online, but she'd never fully addressed it until today during the livestream in front of a thousand others.

he's choking on his spit in shame but then a smile splits her face and richie's sure he's suffocated on his own saliva and gone to a sinner's heaven. or maybe hell.

"oh, richie, i'm just teasing you. look at your face!" she says with an airy laugh, pinching his cheeks and making him want to shrivel up as he turns even redder. what the fuck? "-so cute. alright, i've got to get back to work. i'll see you around, rich." she says with a wink, taking her coffee and tossing it into the trash bin as she stalks towards the employee back room.

he gapes as he watches her leave and then gets up and makes his way to the exit, clutching the coffee like it was trying to jump out of his grasp and make a run for it. god, she's too much.

"maybe i would like you better if you took off your clothes i'm not playing with you, baby i think that you should give it a go" she said, "maybe i would like you better if you took off your clothes i wanna see, and stop thinking If you're too shy, then let me too shy, then let me know"

"-babe, you'll have to try harder than that." richie says with a chuckle, watching his phone screen as the beautiful girl on face time gives him a sly, challenging look. she's in a green lace bra, one richie's not seen yet and he can feel himself stiffen as she absently trails her fingers over her chest.

they'd been much closer over the last week since he last saw her in person, enough so that in the three-is weeks of knowing her, he's positive he's head over ass for her in a way that he shouldn't be. and yet, she still comes back every time, still texts him and answers those face time calls. he's baffled, honestly.

"i know you hate me because i'm right." he adds, not even totally remembering what point he's trying to prove as y/n shifts back a bit and more of her body is revealed, her hair glowing dimly in the soft lighting of her room. his eyes run over her curves, her full thighs and stomach and hips that fill over her panties and he almost groans.

"whatever, maybe i'd like you better if you took off your clothes." she says coyly. and richie's half flattered, as usual, but the more he thinks of it the more deflated he feels. he kind of thought they were growing something more than just getting each other off over face time like horny fifteen year olds. he grins nonetheless.

"you say that a lot, you know." richie says breathlessly as he stares at her. she tilts her head ever so slightly and grins, biting her lip as her eyes move around her screen with a conflicted look. "-why?" he adds.

she hums again.

"well. okay, so there's the visual world - like, the internet, onlyfans, instagram- it tells us that everything is amazing. and we should want everything. and it makes us yearn for everything that we don’t have and everything that’s unobtainable. you know, love, a relationship beyond physical. and even physical, it's different when it's online."

her words confuse him much more than they aid him. "you think... that because of the internet, love is unattainable?" he asks with furrowed brows, unsure how somebody so perfect and, quite frankly, lovable, would think that.

"it is for me." she says it with a small sense of forlorning but mostly it's whispered. enough that richie's heart skips a beat and he's, for the first time, not having a hard time keeping his eyes on her face instead of her body.

"what?" he asks dumbly. she just laughs, shaking her head and he stares at her on his tiny phone screen in the dark.

"that’s something that, you know. in real life, person to person, it has a lot of connotations of... trust and vulnerability and connection. doing what i do- and what we're doing… on the internet - it has the opposite of those connotations. like, before you, i didn't- i didn't really do this, i just was selling stuff. because guys don't want to fuck the girl who sells her body online. and you know now, i want to..." she trails off and richie doesn't dare interrupt her because he thinks she's about to say something he's wanted to tell her for a while now.

"i don't know, i guess. exploring someone's body in physical presence isn't seen at all as voyeuristic, or anything apart from...like, an intimate exchange." she says it casually, brushing hair from her face and shit, richie's swooning. he's in fucking love, he knows it, because y/n is so smart and intelligent and he's so fucking trashed for her. as she speaks, her hands move and distract him slightly from her body, doused in blue light from the screen and splayed out for him and only him on her phone camera.

the soft lace on her hips and chest make his body stiffen and it causes him to suppress a groan as she sighs, but richie knows he can’t screenshot this heavenly sight because she’ll definitely notice and she can probably already tell he’s having a hard time not staring at her alluring figure as she talks.

"-whereas, you know. as soon as it happens on the internet, it becomes kinky and cam-girly. and, you know, that's fine. i love doing it. it's just, i'm not sure where the authentic communication even is now. or if i get to have a happy ending." she says and he finally sees her blush for the first time.

he wishes he was there with her, he wishes that he could touch the redness on her cheeks and caress her curvy body and taste her skin on his tongue. he wants to feel himself inside her, he wants to be with her and kiss her lips and yet he can't, so he sighs and shifts in his position, moving to turn up the brightness of his phone so he can see better.

"shouldn't you get to be the one to decide that, doll?" is all he adds. because he feels kind of lost and just as confused as y/n is with this.

he's starting to feel weird about it, because... is this authentic? what makes things like hookups or whatever the hell they've been doing authentic? shouldn't this be easy? it's just phone sex, phone sex with a really hot girl.

a girl who is complex and alive and full of sincerity and richie is definitely falling harder than he should.

she just sighs but makes no other comment. and then they just stare at each other, richie's face illuminated in his dark room by the phone's reflection.

well, i found a motel it looked like the bins i think there'd been a murder so we couldn't get in i need to get back i've gotta see the girl on the screen

"come over and watch a movie with me." he says into the phone, biting his lip. the silence from the other end of the line is deafening as she makes her decision, because they both know she's not about to come over just to watch the shining or psycho.

they've never done that before, and richie knows if she does come over, then whatever they have will crash down in a fiery mess. and he hates how excited that makes him as he waits in silence for her to drop the ball. so to speak.

"okay." she says, sounding shocked herself, and richie can't contain the excited grin from eclipsing his face. "yeah?" he asks breathlessly, and she's quiet for a little longer. "yeah. text me your address."

she hangs up after that, and richie's thumbs shake as he types his address and sprints out to where stan, mike, ben, and bill are playing video games in he and stan's living room, wheezing at all of them to get out because someone fucking unbelievable is about to walk through that door.

she's there about an hour later, cheeks flushed when richie opens his door, looking just as nervous and flustered. "hi, chee." she says breathlessly, staring up at him with those goddamn eyes, the eyes that pulled him in the first time. his stomach flips in affection at her nickname and he offers her a drink as she takes in his shitty apartment. he wonders briefly if stan ended up buying that rosé that he'd given him shit for considering, and then prays that stan will stay the night elsewhere.

she's already pouring out glasses of wine when he snaps back to reality, and he grins at her, mumbling in thanks as she passes him a glass that's certainly poured almost to the brim.

"what are we watching, then?" she asks coyly, lifting a brow at him. his cheeks are red, but he tugs her arm down the hall towards his room with a grin, their wine sloshing from their glasses as they move erratically.

"we're watching psycho, y/n/n." he says as he pulls her into his room, glancing back to see she's already swallowed down almost half her glass, a lipstick stain on the side of it. faintly he knows stan will be frustrated if richie doesn't clean that off, but he's more distracted by her lips.

"i like psycho." she says with a nod and a cheeky grin, "the whole 'voyeuristic gaze' thing with hitchcock." she mumbles, and richie recalls faintly learning about that in one of his film classes freshman year and he grins as he takes a hefty gulp of his rosé, figuring he's already given himself away and if she's going to do that, he can too.

he hums, setting down his glass and grabbing hers to set it besides his on the bedside table. he turns around, intending on grabbing his laptop so they could watch the film, but she's so much closer that he'd expected and her hands fall onto his shoulders and he almost shits himself.

unpleasant, but honest. just richie's style.

"can i try something?" she asks with a grin, and richie nods, knowing that she could do anything to him and he'd gladly let it happen and most likely pay out of pocket for the damages afterwards.

and then she's pulling him from her grip on his shoulders, her lips sliding against his and making him grip her hips. his mind almost explodes at with y/n-sensory-overload because he feels her everywhere - on his lips, against his hands, on his shoulders, and pressing against his front.

her lips taste like chamomile and rosé.

she thinks his lips taste like vanilla and cigarette smoke, just as she'd always imagined. he feels so real, pressed against her lips and his body against hers, and she sighs as her tongue slips into his mouth because god, she's needed him for so long. and now she has him.

his hands move, touching every inch of her as their tongues fight for dominance. she pulls back, smirking as she gently pushes him onto his mattress, sliding onto his lap smoothly afterwards, grinding her hips against his slowly.

the moan he emits is heavenly and she could cry because she finally gets to hear it in person and not through the crackling static frequency of the phone.

so she grinds down on him again, eager to feel all of him. he's hardening against her core and she whimpers into his mouth in need as his fingers slip under her top, rubbing circles on her bare skin and making her shiver. she's noticed to this gentleness; it was rare when she did get to enjoy the comfort of another body with her own, and when she did they were hardly half as loving or caring as him.

she's desperate now, she needs to feel him inside her after all these weeks of teasing and waiting, so her hand snakes down to palm him through his sweats. he lets out a small groan into her mouth, biting her lip as he pulls back slightly. their eyes meet and his are hooded with lust, lips parted as she pumps him slowly from outside his sweats. his hips buck up lightly into her palm and she smiles gently, kissing him slowly.

"let me make you feel good, y/n." he mutters, eyes pleading as he stares up at her. her stomach flutters with butterflies and she nods, shocked that he wants to pleasure her.

he gently pulls her off his lap until she's laying on his mattress and he stares down at her, biting his lip as he takes her in. he can't fucking believe she's really here. she slowly pulls off her top, leaving her in her bra and jeans as she stares up at him with a wry, seductive smile. then she unzips her jeans and slides them off, leaving her in his favorite set of hers - black, lacy, and revealing. she looks utterly stunning and he groans, his hands falling to run over the skin, tracing the lace on her breasts. her cheeks are red as she gazes up at him.

"touch me, richie." she orders and he almost groans as he drags his lips over the valley of her breasts, sucking on the soft flesh and admiring the splashes of budding purple and pink that he's created. her heartbeat is quick under his fingertips and he moves to unclip her bra, kissing her skin as the fabric falls away.

she's slightly cold in his room, and goosebumps appear over her flesh as richie leans to catch a nipple in her mouth, flicking his tongue over the sensitive bud. she lets out a quiet whine that has richie rutting into the mattress next to her, his fingers trailing down to dance at the waistline of her underwear.

and then he's pulling aside her panties, his fingers running up and down her slick folds and making her jump in lust. he can't wait, just like her, and he's rubbing her clit teasingly as she pleads, "chee, please." her eyes are eyes closed in bliss as his finger slips inside her, crooking slightly as he moves it. he presses his lips to the skin of her breast, pumping his finger and then soon adding another, crooking them both in a way that makes her let out guttural moans of pleasure. he marks her breasts with littered pink and red marks, smiling to himself at her figure.

she can't help but swoon as she watches him, his hair in his face slightly until she brushes it back, his fingers curling inside her and making her gasp, pleasure coursing through her body. his thumb softly comes up to rub her neglected clit and she grabs his shoulders to steady herself, the pleasure almost too much.

she's honestly slightly shocked - knowing richie as little as she really does outside of the literal booty calls at two in the morning and the accumulative forty five minutes they'd spent in person, she'd expected him to be... well, good. just good. because there's no way someone so funny, caring, and smart could also be that good in the sheets.

but right now, he's making her see goddamn stars.

"i've been wanting to touch you for so long, sugar." he mutters, eyes raking over her figure as her breath comes in stuttering gasps. she watches him with blown-wide eyes as his demeanor changes right before her, making her fall apart at his fingertips.

"that feel good, honey?" he asks, smirking as she whimpers, clenching around his fingers. "yes, god you feel so good." she utters, making him groan in approval from where he's sat back, watching her face contort in pleasure. she lets out another moan and richie stares at her body, watching his fingers as they fuck into her. he can't take it, then.

"will you sit on my face, doll?" he blurts, and she nearly yelps out as his fingers leave her. it's abrupt, but she's started to notice that this is how he operates - impulsivity is his second nature. and she loves it.

her face burns as she nods, the thought of richie under her making her whimper with anticipation. "yes, richie, please." she moans out again and he's grinning, laying back on the mattress with a wink. "c'mere, need to taste that pretty little pussy." he mutters and she feels herself clench around nothing, desperate for him as she swings a leg around to straddle his head.

immediately, his hands wrap around her thighs, thumbs smoothing over her stretch marks as he stares up at her, eyes glinting with desire. slowly, his finger pulls the seat of her lace panties to the side and his breath hits her bare, throbbing pussy, making her breath hitch. she cards her fingers through his hair and lowers herself slightly, gasping in shock as his tongue darts out to lick a bold stripe up from her entrance to her clit.

"chee," she moans out, tightening her grip in his hair and sending a groan through his body that reverberates and makes her shiver. his lips attach to her clit and fiery pleasure snakes through her body making her legs shake, a moan escaping her lips immediately. he sucks lightly before releasing to swirl his tongue, her moans making richie impossibly harder through his sweats.

"so good, rich." she mutters and he groans, tongue spreading her wet folds and slowly prodding at her entrance, dipping in slowly before pulling out, teasing her.

she can't help but grind down slightly, making richie grip her tightly, tongue sliding into her again and making her yelp. "you taste so good, baby." he mutters lowly before slowly reattaching himself to her heat, her eyes rolling slightly at the sensation as he fucks his tongue into her. one of his hands snakes up to her ass, gripping it tightly and then slapping it, the stinging pleasure making her buck her hips against him, emitting a hiss from her.

"rich, i-" she cuts herself off with a sharp gasp, the pleasure from richie's mouth making it increasingly harder to speak. her toes curl and her head tilts back as his tongue flicks over her clit, teeth grazing it slightly and making her buck.

she's embarrassingly close already, and judging by the way richie's smirking under her, he can tell. "please, please." she mutters, hips rocking on him as his tongue swirls, nipping softly at her clit and making her cry out. "please, make me cum, 'chee." she mutters and his tongue moves quicker, hand slapping her ass again.

and then she's clenching her thighs on either side of him and grinding down as she hits her peak, moaning quietly as she shakes in pleasure on top of him. he rides through her high, lapping at her and pulling away with a grin as she moans his name dejectedly. she's worn out from the best orgasm she's ever had and he gently nudges her so he slides in between her thighs, her back now on the mattress. he kisses her cheek and she keens quietly.

"fuck me, richie." she mutters, eyes still closed. his eyes snap to hers, surprised at the dominance in her voice after how she was two seconds ago.

he moans quietly, kissing her deeply as he ruts against her and relishes in the feeling. he's pulling off his sweats and boxers in record time and then he's pumping himself as he grips her hips, turning her so she's on her stomach, ass propped up slightly. his hand runs over the smooth skin of her ass, snapping the elastic of her panties and making her moan quietly.

then he's lining up her hips with his, pulling aside the lacy seat of her underwear to press against her entrance. he waits a moment as he leans to press a soft kiss to her spine, slowly easing into her. she moans loudly as he eases in, her face pressing against the pillows. she smiles as she smells the scent she'd just recently come to know as his, his cock stretching her and filling her up fully as he buries himself to the hilt inside her.

"so tight, sugar." he mutters and she whimpers, getting antsy as she adjusts to his size. "richie, please, need it so bad." she mutters, bucking her hips back against him in need.

"say that again." he mutters, sounding strangled, and she grins into the sheets. "please fuck me, richie. need it so bad, need to feel you ruin me." she whimpers, chest fluttering in anticipation. his hands grip her hips as he pulls out of her slowly, almost as slowly as he entered, before stopping almost all the way out. she moans loudly in pleasure as he pushes back in, snapping his hips against hers and filling her completely.

she briefly thanks god that his roommate seemed to be out for the night as she moans his name loud enough for the neighbors to hear.

he sets a brutal pace, his cock thick as it fills her up and makes her toes curl. he pushes her hair away from her neck and presses kisses to it as he hits a spot inside her that makes her scream his name. his fingers move to pinch her nipples, rolling them as he fucks into her.

she's completely blissed out at the feeling of him inside her, so glad that he invited her over and that they finally get to touch each other. "rich, oh my god." she emits, eyes squinted shut in complete pleasure.

"fuck, toots, takin' me so well, aren't you?" he asks, hands kneading her ass before slapping her right ass cheek harshly, making her arch her back. at the new angle they both let out a groan and richie knows he'll fucking cum too soon if they stay like this, so without warning he pulls out completely.

y/n whines, breathing heavily as his hands come to flip her around. now on her back, they make eye contact and she bites her lip, pulling him in for a searing kiss that knocks the wind out of both of them. images of richie in his room alone, snaps and late-night face times play through her mind as he grips her and slides her hips down towards him on the mattress and lines himself to her again, pulling her legs up so they're against his chest before pushing in.

he gives no time to adjust to this angle and it makes her moan loudly as he hits a spot deep inside her that pulls her closer and closer to her second orgasm.

his name leaves her cherry lips like a mantra and he can't stop staring at her as he fucks her into the mattress - the way her tits bounce with his brutal pace, the way her face is twisted in pleasure, the way she clenches and spasms around his cock.

one hand grips her breast, rubbing her nipple with his thumb and forefinger as he kisses her again, addicted to her taste as he feels himself coming closer and closer to the edge.

"chee, fuck, right there." she moans out and he groans in pleasure, the feeling of her walls clenching around him making his hips stutter. he keeps his thrusts up, though, as her fingernails rake down his back leaving small trails of burning pleasure in their wake.

her skin is covered with a sheen line of sweat as she looks up at him, hair wild and lips kiss-bruised. "god, don't stop, 'm gonna cum." she mutters and he snaps his hips harder, eager to make her cum so hard all she can think of is his name.

he moves a hand down to rub at her clit and he moans into her neck as she clenches hard around him, her hips bucking spastically. he can tell she's about to cum, and after a hard thrust, she does for the second time, spasming around him and sending waves of pleasure up his body. she's moaning his name, pulling him closer in bliss as she becomes sensitive and god damn it, she's so fucking beautiful.

"please cum, richie." she whispers against his lips, "please." and then at her will, he's spilling into her, hips stuttering as he pushes as deep into her as he can, loving how she clenches in sensitivity around him. he stays inside her for a moment as they breathe, coming down from their highs and eyes closed as they take in what just happened.

"holy shit." he says because yeah, that's like all he can say right now because he just got to fuck y/n and she's kissing his fucking collarbones right now and its making him blush and his heart flutter.

"that was...incredible." she whispers against his skin and he can feel her smile against his skin. it makes him feel all soft inside as he pulls out of her and flops next to her, kissing her forehead.

his fingers flutter over her sensitive core, smiling as he sees how wrecked she is, some cum dripping down her leg. he then soothes over the lace panties, patting her lightly and kissing her red cheek.

"rich?" she asks, making him look up at her. he hums in question, pushing some of her hair back. "can we still watch the movie?"

his heart swells and he grins, kissing her softly. "of course, doll. you're too cute." he says with a wink, making her roll her eyes. he hands her his shirt and then pulls sweats on himself, mumbling "stay here" and padding out to the kitchen to get her water and snacks, then returning minutes later to see her holding his phone in her clutch with a smirk.

"what're you doing?" he asks with a smile, but she shakes her head, making grabby hands for him and the snacks. so he laughs, cuddling up with the girl of his dreams and watching a flick, falling sleep with tangled limbs and a lipstick-stained neck.

and after she leaves the next morning with a kiss and a wink, he checks his phone and smirks to himself as he notices the lock screen she'd apparently made last night while he was making snacks.

a photo of her in his bed, wearing his shirt, a soft smirk on her face, neck littered in budding hickeys and a hand between her thighs next to her black lace panties.

god, she's going to be the absolute death of him.

//tag list: @gabiatthedisco @blisshemmings @simplesammyx @dickology64 @clownsloveyou @emnotm @moon-shine-baby @toziershmozier @daughter-of-the-stars11 @lets-vibe-bro @trashedfortozier @oceandog13 @beauregard-s@finnskindofwoman @kait-tozier @upamongthestarss \\

#richie tozier x reader #richie tozier smut #richie has adhd #losers x reader #losers club x reader

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frostedfaves · 4 years

Text

Family Emergency

Pairing: Jake Peralta x reader

Summary: Y/N deals with a family emergency.

Word Count: 1.6k

Warnings: death/suicide of a parent, grief, overall angst with soft and caring Jake mixed in

A/N: This is one of three versions of this concept that I wrote. Still debating if I want to post the others, so if you’d be interested in reading them let me know!

You watched the phone ring for a second time within the hour, Jake's goofy grin popping up and reminding you that someone was waiting for you to come home. Eventually you put the phone back in the cup holder and rested your hands on the steering wheel, looking back at the raindrops racing down the wet windshield. Upon reaching the apartment complex, you'd turned the car off immediately, but couldn't bring yourself to do anything but listen to the tiny daggers hit the roof and stare off into the rest of the parking lot through sheets of water.

It was 7PM now, a full two hours later than the time you clocked out from work. Jake knew this, which explains the third call your phone was now buzzing from. You wanted to pick up the phone and tell him that you were just outside, and that all you had to do was come inside the building, take the elevator up to your floor and walk into the apartment. That once you accomplished that, you would take off your jacket and explain why you were so late. But you couldn't bring yourself to do it, because that would make everything real.

You left work as normally today, interrupted by a call from the hospital before you could pull off. A nurse explained that your mother had been brought in from a suicide attempt, and that despite their best efforts, she wouldn't live past the next hour. You found yourself driving without thought, close to breaking all traffic laws as you sped off to see your mother alive one last time. You made it just in time to hold her hand as she flat-lined.

After making the necessary arrangements so that her body wouldn't be abandoned in the morgue, You left and began your trip home, almost laughing at the coincidence of a thunderstorm on one of the saddest days you'd ever lived. Aside from feeling mocked by the weather, you felt comforted by the fact that you weren't the only person clouded with gloom at the moment, certain that another heart was as heavy as yours somewhere.

Your phone rang a fourth time, this time Rosa's name appearing on your screen. She was your best friend (aside from your boyfriend of course) but she wouldn't pry if you asked her not to. You took a chance and answered.

"If you're breaking up with Jake, can you tell him already so he can stop calling me?" Rosa's voice filled the speaker immediately and you were suddenly brought to reality, a nice-sized lump forming in your throat. "Y/N?" Rosa spoke up again when you didn't respond. "What's going on, dude?"

"Tell-" you backpedaled, realizing saying Jake's name brought the same lump to your throat, and tried a different approach. "Tell him I'll be home soon."

"You okay?"

"Y-no, but don't tell him that yet. It's just...I'll text you or call you later or something, okay? Bye." You hung up after hearing a response, taking a deep breath. You finally tucked your phone into your jacket pocket to save it from the rain and took your seatbelt off, grabbing your work bag and stepping out of the car.

The rain was heavier now, but you moved as slowly as if the sun was out, carefully closing the door behind you and walking to the building in an almost dreamlike state. When you reached the door, you held it open as you slowly turned and locked the car, returning the keys to the safety of your other pocket as you kept going to the elevators.

When you reached your apartment, you unlocked the door as slow as you could manage without unintentionally teasing Jake with your entrance. You came in and when you turned around from hanging your coat and placing your shoes on the mat, Jake was standing across the room.

"I made your favorite soup. I figured your boss might've been holding you late, and wanted to soften the blow of your bad day," Jake spoke from his spot across the room as he smiled warmly but carefully.

You took a couple steps and dropped your phone and keys on the coffee table in front of the couch, still refusing to make eye contact with him. Still refusing to fully accept what was going through your head and tell it to someone else. So instead, you whispered a thanks in response, brushing a kiss onto his cheek as you passed him to head into the bedroom.

"Are you mad at me? Did I do something to hurt you?" You heard his voice again from the doorway as you changed out of your soaked clothing and felt a pain in your heart at the unsure shakiness in his tone, knowing you caused it.

"No. I'm sorry." You forced yourself to look at him, knowing that the longer you held it in, the more of a risk you'd have of losing him. As if you could handle two immense losses in one day. "Something...something happened, Jake."

He stepped over to you quickly, taking your hands in his and luckily succeeding in getting you to meet his eyes again. "What is it, babe? Talk to me."

"My mom killed herself." You felt another stabbing pain at the sharp intake of breath coming from the man in front of you. "I mean, she tried to. She did, but I still had time to say goodbye but, did I? I mean, I still don't know why she...how she could...I don't..."

You took a deep breath that was instantly shortened by the sobs that fell from you so freely, now that you were no longer holding onto the information, no longer the only one in the room who knows. You felt your legs giving up and you listened, grateful when Jake wrapped his arms around your shivering body and followed as you sank to the floor. He kissed your damp hair and whispered reassurances over and over again until everything was just one hushed noise to you. You cried until you were sure you ran out of tears and broke free from Jake's hold. Looking into his eyes and seeing his soft and worried gaze was nearly enough to send you spiraling again, but you held it together so you could speak to him.

"I don't know what to do, Jake. I mean I know I'm supposed to hold a funeral and invite relatives and accept pity glances for the next few months, but how do I deal with how much it hurts? I've never known how to process these things and right now it seems that's all my body can do is just ache. I feel so closed in and just...how do I do this?"

Jake placed his hands on either side of your tear stained cheeks, eyes watering as he watched you start to fall apart again. "I honestly don't know, baby. I really wanted to lie to you and tell you that eventually a day will come where you'll barely feel the pain anymore, but I really just don't know. And I'm sorry I can't help you figure that out, but I do know that I can be here for you, holding your hand through all the funeral stuff and the pity looks and whatever else comes."

You swallowed hard, forcing yourself to regain control and continue the conversation. "Babe, I can't ask you to go through that with me. It's too much." You let out a couple sniffles, smiling a bit as Jake rubbed away a few tears with his thumbs as he held you in place.

"Y/N, what kind of boyfriend would I be if I didn't make myself available to you when you needed me most? I'd never forgive myself, especially because you've done the same for me many times since before we even started dating." He leaned forward to plant a feathery light kiss on your forehead, immediately giving a second one with a bit more pressure before pulling back completely. "We're in this together, okay?"

You studied his features, noticing the small crease between his brows, the watery and shimmering state of his eyes as he watched you, waiting for a response. His lips pressed tightly together. "Okay. Can you tell Rosa for me? I can't say it again. I considered sitting in the car all night so I wouldn't have to tell you. I wasn't ready for everything to be so real quite yet."

"I understand," he mumbled into your hair as he pulled you in again, kissing your head once more. "How about this? You go grab a bowl of soup and wrap up in your favorite blanket on the couch while I text Rosa and get your favorite movie set up in the DVD player? I think maybe you could use a distraction right now before you have to deal with real life tomorrow."

A real smile broke out for the first time in hours as you reached up to run your thumbs over Jake's jawline. "I'd like that. Thank you. I love you."

He grabbed one of your hands in his own, pulling it away from him for a second to kiss your palm before placing it on his jaw again. "I love you, too. Come on, time for Operation Feel Better. 1, 2, 3, break!" In one awkward motion, he pulled back and rolled away from you on the floor, crawling on his knees out of the room before he stood finally. His heart thumped happily in his chest at the sound of your laughter, grateful that he was already starting to succeed at being the rainbow that appeared in your clouds after the rain.

Tags: @halfofwhatisayismeaningless @gaulty74 @ochrythum @xetherealbeautyx @marie-03 @makapaka11

#jake peralta #jake peralta x reader #jake peralta imagine #brooklyn nine nine #brooklyn 99 #brooklyn nine nine imagine #brooklyn nine nine x reader #b99 fic #b99 imagine #b99 x reader #b99 fanfic #b99

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radioromantic-moved · 3 years

Text

okay here's the big old pride post with my hcs for all of my active f/os and a couple of others i've got on the brain. under a cut because this is extremely long and it's essentially just me pointing at characters and going "lesbian" and then writing an entire paragraph about why.

dash: trans lesbian <3 you all know this one by now. one of the first characters i just couldn't read as anything Other than a lesbian to the point where i sometimes forget that it's not canon. (i mean there is the thing with‏‏‎ ‎applejack‏‏‎ ‎but i don't love to read that as canon for. like. jealousy based reasons. i get possessive sometimes it's sucky.) anyway. yeah. wuhluhwuh icon this rainbow horse

della: trans/nb lesbian :) in a reversal of what i'm pretty sure was the deal with most people, it doesn't take della long to figure out what's up with her gender but it takes her a lot longer to realize she likes girls and exclusively girls. after one particularly bad fling she asks me if there's a reason why she just doesn't feel anything for any of the guys she's been with, like is there something wrong with her, and i just go. you know you can...not date guys. and somehow that's when it clicks for her (the bad fling is the bio father of the kids. he's a dick and he sucks and everything i imagine about him is just a fuck you to the people who never shut up about hdl's biological dad. donald's doing great thank you very much)

mera: her aesthetic is the most nonbinary lesbian thing i've ever seen in my life HELLO. she makes one comment insinuating she's physically attracted to indus in ep 1 but that could just be admiration of his buff bod. mera's comphet attraction is overly buff muscleguys who are nice to her and my comphet attraction is tiny gremlin things who are the worst.

glados:‏‏‎ ‎say it with me now!! this robot is a lesbian!

pal: we know the drill babey (she's no gender because gendering ai makes you lame)

helen: pre-spiral helen is a cis lesbian. in the spiral she's a l̵̩̹̫̘͉̫̥͂̓̏̅̃͑̃̏̒̏͌̑̽̉̇͜o̷͓͍͓̤͓͚̠̙͠u̶̢͕̠̓̈́͌̓̉͐̋̂̅̃͘͝d̸̡̬̦͎̠͎̪̀̊̓͑̉͠ͅ ̸̨̧͚͋̊̃̂̓̀̕͠ş̷̨͓̲̪̭͙̮̙͉̤͗̈̉̃̿̎̽̅͋͜͝ͅͅt̵̳͉̞͇̺̖̬̪̏̌̽͆̋̑a̴̡̠̭̘̲̬͖͖̤̒͑̏̂̈́̀̏̽̚t̶͖͈͙̼̼̝̮̤̖̂̇͋͐i̴̳̘̙̙̳͔̓̽́̍͌͑̒̿͘̕͝c̸̛̻̫̲̹͔̝͚̹̱͉̦͍̩͍͆̌͋́́̊̏̂̆͜͠͠ ̸̧͇̮͚̲̳̙̹̲̦̱̣̤̬̾ṇ̴̡̫͐̀́̈̒ò̴̳̫̜͑͘i̶̡̛̹̹̖̥͍̦͎͈̬̲̊͒́̈́̊̾̅̚ͅs̷̛͙̞͙̥̗͇̄̇̄͛̏̚͜͠ë̶̢̬̱̬̰͈͖̬̩̱̀͂̒͜͝ lesbian. post-spiral helen can mess around with her gender a little bit because it's all fake anyway. and she still likes women <3

bernie: both bi and lesbian bernie hcs my beloved but here's my in-depth thoughts

trexel:‏‏‎ ‎i keep meaning to steal the url "bitrexual" to go with my podcast blog's url which is‏‏‎ ‎gayvid7‏‏‎. ‎anyway yeah canon mspec doofus my beloved.

egoist:‏‏‎ ‎canon trans babey!!! his sexuality is whatever he feels like at the moment. he'll usually get a big crush on one specific person and agonize about it until either he or they do something about it. or he loses interest. i'm also trying to decide which flags go best with his color scheme because more of these than you'd think have something to do with what color they look best in.

thetis: lesbian lesbian lesbian lesbian lesbian lesbian. idk what thetis' thoughts about marriage in the original greek were but considering madeline‏‏‎ ‎miller‏‏‎ ‎makes a point of emphasizing her disinterest in it as a character in‏‏‎ ‎soa‏‏‎ ‎and her disinterest in men as a whole, even when someone as high-level as zeus shows interest in her, i mean. come on, man. in a modern au achilles and‏‏‎ ‎thetis‏‏‎ ‎go to pride together and he's in a shirt that says "i love my lesbian mom" and she's in a shirt that says "i love my gay son." homophobic thetis truthers have literally not read‏‏‎ ‎tsoa‏‏‎ ‎correctly and that's not me being petty. that's genuinely not the interpretation you are supposed to take away from the text. i won't start my rant but if you WOULD like to hear me discuss thetis as an antagonist and exactly why she does what she does hit me up anytime, i have literally analyzed this for a grade. this is an area in which am quite knowledgeable.

rudyard: semi-canonically ace and sex-repulsed. absolute king shit of an asexual autistic goth, i love him dearly. he's probably trans. i've read one or two absolute banger‏‏‎ ‎wooden‏‏‎ ‎overcoats‏‏‎ ‎fics where one or both twins are trans and they always come up with the best stuff. you love to see it. his attraction is -terrified hiss-. he doesn't know what a crush is for his first 30 years of life and when he experiences one for the first time he thinks he's dying.

beidou: pingponging between pan and lesbian hcs for her. might settle on her sexuality simply being "be gay, do crime." her gender is pirate.

#can you tell i overthink these?#the distorted bit in helen's blurb says 'loud static noise.'#it doesn't add anything to the post but in case you couldn't read it and wanted to know.#nyx making a post about their female f/os but every time they say lesbian it gets faster.#nyx on comms #hey watch this #dash tag #della tag #mera tag #glados‏‏‎ ‎tag #pal tag #helen tag #bernie tag #trex tag #egoist tag #thetis tag #rudy tag #beidou‏‏‎ ‎tag

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be-the-spark-flyboy · 4 years

Text

Hard Feelings

Call It What You Want (8/?)

Series Masterlist

Pairing: Poe Dameron x Reader

A/N: this slow burn is annoying even me

Chapter Summary: Thank god for Rey

Warnings: swearing, sed Poe

Word count: ~2k

It isn’t the ideal weather for a walk but Beebee seems thrilled at the prospect despite the cold. His tiny boot-clad paws pattering alongside Poe, forever his loyal companion. The park isn’t completely void of human traffic, though it’s a lot busier when it is warmer.

Poe finds a seat far enough from the road and the sound of traffic while Beebee happily traipses through the frozen ground looking for stray twigs and running in circles chasing his tail. Poe watches him play, entirely in his own world.

Poe started the day feeling anxious about talking to you. Then he was disappointed that he couldn’t get you to meet up with him. He was mad at himself for kissing you instead of telling you that he broke up with his now ex-girlfriend first. Now after seeing you with Ben is he supposed to be mad at you for letting him kiss you? It hurt seeing you with Ben and all the resentment he felt was directed towards him and not you.

Who’s to be blamed for this? What was he supposed to do now? How was he supposed to feel? If there was one clear emotion he felt atop of everything else, that would be confusion.

Poe whips out his phone, dialling the one person that could make him feel better. It doesn’t take long for his dad to pick up the phone.

If only there weren’t so many miles between them. The distance isn’t new to him. Poe spent so many years of his life wishing he wasn’t so far from his dad, wishing he could just run to him whenever he wanted to instead of settling for a phone call. But that never stopped him from seeking out comfort from Kes Dameron.

The first question he asks once Poe greets him is, “What’s wrong, Poe?” Looks like nothing escapes his dad’s notice. Is he that transparent? It must be the years of experience dealing with his constant moods over the phone. Poe sighs, rubbing his temples with his free hand.

“Nothing. It’s just, there’s just a lot going on,” he answers. “How are you?” Kes recognizes the weariness in his son’s voice right away. It isn’t the first time he’s hearing it.

“I’m fine, just had lunch,” Kes begins to tell him about his day then quickly launches into a story about how a few people from his work covered his coworker’s car with post-it notes as a prank a few days ago.

His voice feels like a warm embrace in the unforgiving cold. Suddenly Poe is taken back to his childhood home, sitting by the fireplace watching with rapt attention as his father spun tales about anything and everything.

In his presence, nothing could harm him. Nothing could stand against Kes Dameron’s dogged determination to make his loved ones happy. The events of his day slowly become a distant memory in Poe’s mind as he laughs along with his dad.

“Better now?” Kes asks after a while.

“Yeah, thanks dad,” He did feel better.

“You still don’t wanna talk about it?”

“Not right now, no,” Maybe not ever, he thinks. Would it be so bad to just forget about everything?

“I’m here if there’s anything you need, okay?” Kes offers. His words bring a smile to Poe’s face.

“I know dad, I love you,” Not the worse day. He’s had worse before, he was fine.

Beebee nudges his feet as he hangs up, bored of playing with stray twigs by himself. Or maybe he was just cold. Poe lifts the corgi onto his lap, tucking him into his jacket, his head adorably jutting out. Beebee headbutts him on the chin.

“Looks like I need a shave, huh?” Poe asks him. “Actually, I think I’m gonna let it grow out a bit more,” He says, running his palm over his face, the light stubble grazing against his palm. Beebee looks up at him, tilting his head to one side as if he was pondering it.

“You think that’s a good idea?” Beebee lets out a small yip in response. “Yeah? Okay, then. I guess we’re growing a beard,”

—-

Poe never texted you after. It had been a few days since the kiss you really wanted to forget about but couldn’t. But you still needed to talk to Poe. You didn’t want to avoid him forever, neither could you pretend like nothing happened especially after running out of the house like that. You figured that he’d want to meet you some other time but he never texted again.

You think about asking Rey about him when she comes over in a few minutes. She’d help you. But you’d have to tell her about kissing Poe, assuming Poe hadn’t already told the two of them, which seemed impossible.

You use the remaining few minutes to tidy up a few things around the house, trying not to think too hard about anything. It was just Rey, she is your friend, she will help you.

At the sound of the doorbell, Jessika springs up from her seat to get to the door. “Rey!” You hear them enthusiastically embrace, having not seen each other since the new year's party.

“We getting pizza, or do you guys want something else?” You ask and you get a chorus of agreement as a reply.

“I got us some wine,” Rey grins, pulling out two bottles from her bag.

Two hours and two large pizzas later, the three of you sit squeezed together in the couch, a movie droning in the background that none of you pays attention to. The alcohol draws more giggles from you as you sip wine from ceramic mugs, well into the second bottle by the time you finish your dinner.

Jessika animatedly recounts the story of how she saw the most attractive person in the world in the coffee shop that morning. Having already heard that particular story always twice, your attention slips away to your earlier dilemma. The wine certainly boosts your confidence ‘cause you’re sure you never would’ve gotten the words out if you were sober, but you dive headfirst into the question without any warning.

“Did Poe, um, tell you anything about the other night?” You hesitantly ask her just as Jessika finishes her story, absentmindedly picking at a thread on the blanket. “You know when you were at the dentist and I came over?”

“Before you say anything, I need to tell you that Poe broke up with Sarah weeks ago,” Rey interrupts you before you start on a downward spiral talking a million miles per hour. She’s glad you brought it up, because how was she supposed to ask you if you kissed her childhood best friend/ roommate?

You remain eerily silent for the while after whispering an oh at the revelation. Weeks ago? Long before he kissed you. Why didn’t he just tell you that? Oh, wait, because you ran out of the house after that and avoided him. You certainly owe him an apology.

Normally Rey is content sitting back and watching the drama unfold in people’s lives around her. But this was two people she really cares about, running circles around each other. Technically, meddling is justified if the parties involved were both dumbasses, right? And the only possible way to do that was to throw all the facts out in the open, hoping it would clear some things for you and at the same time try not exposing Poe too much.

“The guys saw you and Ben the other day at the diner. They had to leave before they could say hi, though,” Rey tells you.

“Oh,” That was something you didn’t expect her to say. “You know Ben?” You ask voicing out the first question in your mind.

“Yeah, he’s Poe’s godmother’s son,”

“Oh!” You suddenly exclaim. “He is Ben. It’s the same person! Ben Solo is Leia Organa’s son?” Rey nods laughing at your surprise. “I didn’t think he was that Ben, you know because they don’t have the same last name,”

“Are you dating him?” She asks.

“What? No. We’re just friends,”

“She’s not dating Ben, she’s meant to be with Poe!” Jessika cries out, dramatically flopping over the backrest

“Shut up, Jess,” you groan as Rey joins her, cackling. A thought hits you from nowhere all of a sudden. One you don’t like all that much.

“Does Poe think I’m with Ben?” Rey answers with a high-pitched, drawn-out, ‘maaaaybe?’ and you want to crash your head against the greasy pizza box. “I’m too sober for this,” You settle for draining the remaining wine from your cup instead.

“Why do they hate each other that much anyway?” You ask after a while. Sure, Poe mentioned some childhood animosity between him and Ben. But it looked like it was much more than that.

“Oh honey, you need more wine for that,” Jessika pours more into your cup, refilling hers and Rey’s as well. Of course, Jess would know. You would’ve asked if you weren’t too busy trying to stomp down your feelings for Poe.

“Sarah cheated on Poe with Ben,” Rey casually responds.

You splutter into your cup, almost choking on the liquid. “What?” Rey nods solemnly.

That was just great. Now you have to explain to the guy you like that you are not dating the guy whom his ex cheated on him with. And Ben. What was he thinking?

“How did that happen?” You ask.

“Well, it was early in their relationship,” Rey shrugs. “She convinced Poe not to dump her sorry ass after that,”

“Jesus,” You breathe. No wonder everyone hates her so much. “Oh god, what do I do now?”

---

“Stop that,” Snap nudges Poe who ignored him and continues to click his pen incessantly against his notebook. “You’re fucking annoying, what’s the matter with you today?” Poe tosses his pen on the table.

“It’s nothing,” He replies half heartedly. Snap knows that isn’t the case. He knew the last time his mood was this sour. But he was no longer dating Sarah, so...

“Is it Ben again?” Poe’s eyes immediately flicks up to the man in question sitting a few rows before him, shooting a withering glare to the back of his head. That is answer enough for Snap.

“What did he do this time?” The question comes from behind Poe this time as Kare leans forward between the two of them.

“It’s none of your business, Kare,” Snap tries to shoo her away. “And you two should pay attention, I’m not sharing my notes with you again,”

“Shut up, I’m not talking to you,” She waves him off, directing her attention back to Poe as Snap rolls his eyes at her. Poe angles himself to face her as he tells them both about what he saw at the diner.

“That doesn’t really mean she like him, right? She kissed you,” Snap interrupts.

“I thought you were paying attention to the lecture?” Kare snaps at him.

“Shut up, I’m not talking to you,” Children, Poe thinks.

“She was wearing his jacket,” He continues, ignoring their bickering. “And she blew me off to go get lunch with him,” he shrugs. “It adds up,”

“Do ya’ll mind? Some of us come here to study,” Hux sharply interrupts from beside him, looking down his nose at the three of them. Signature sneer on his pasty face.

“Sorry Hugs,” Poe drawls, turning to the front.

He manages a few productive minutes of actually paying attention before his phone chimes in his pocket earning another glare from Hux. He rolls his eyes, pulling his phone from his pocket to switch it to silent. Then the notification catches his eyes. You texted him. Curiosity gets the best of him and he opens it.

Hey, sorry I couldn’t make It for lunch the other day. Would you like to go today?

Did he want to anymore? He had half a mind to blow you off. That may be a little petty but it definitely sounded appealing. Poe places his phone back in his pocket. He’ll just text you after class.

—-

The Dameron taglist (open): @writefightandflightclub @arkofblake @yougottakeeponkeepinon @multifandomlife22 @skymerons @smol-peter-parker @rae-rae-patcha @demigod-dragonrider-schoolidol @spider-starry @hkmultifandom @cloud-leader @elmoakepoke @staringmoony @valhallavalkyrie9 @the-cry-of-youth @liadamerondjarin @m1rkw00dpr1ncess @takemepedropascal @xremember-me-notx @softly-sad @loserbelle @littleeuphoriaelf @missmadwoman @gottalovethefandom @seejayyou

#poe dameron #poe x reader #poe dameron au #poe dameron x reader #poe #poe fic

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goblinmanifesto · 3 years

Text

Ive already accidentally deleted this once so fucking kill me (I forgot to save it).

⚠️TW FOR ANXIETY, TOURETTES, SLIGHT SELF HARM⚠️

But this is my post for @doinmybesthere Mental Health Awareness May collab! I will be doing Bokuto Koutarou. To explain a bit, to cope with bullshit that is life, I accidentally made myself a coping mechanism that I loving refer to as the ‘Klaus Hargreeves‘ (if you know anything about that character, you already know where my mental state is) because I can’t remember what my therapist said the actual name for it was. To put it simply, it’s like overactive day dreaming. I act out and create scenarios in my head to comfort myself, most of the time using characters or real people as an enabler for the comfort I wish to gain. Side effects being; if caught, considered crazy, sometimes don’t realize I’m doing it which can lead to awkward situations, sometimes I fuck up what’s real and what’s not. So, in these little stories, I will be retelling scenarios I have created through this coping mechanism that relate to both Bokuto and my mental problems! Each will be labeled with what they deal with so you can skip the one that might trigger you. Enjoy and happy reading! (I WILL ALSO BE MENTIONING AND USING STIMMING) ((I will probably use this to make other fics like this in the future mentioning my other ~stuff~ but in the meantime this is all I want to do so enjoy!))

⚠️LAST TW⚠️

1. ~Anxiety, Self harm, Mentions of Stimming~ He should’ve been home an hour ago! I was pacing in the living room, shaking hands holding my phone. It was 7:13 and Koutarou was supposed to be home at 6:00. I was spiraling and I could feel it, but I didn't know what to do about it. Id sent him text after text, but he was yet to respond. I glanced at my cell, only stopping my frantic shuffling to focus my attention on reading the screen;

Hey, is practice running late? [6:11] When do you think you’ll be home? [6:15] Are you there? [6:19] Koutarou??????? [6:23] Kou pick up your damn phone! [6:27] Did something happen???!! [6:34] Is everything okay?! [6:39] Are you mad or something??? [6:47] Bokuto Koutarou I’m dead serious where are you?!?!?! [6:53] Bo-ku-to!!!! [6:59] Koutarou it’s been hour please text me [7:07] Koutarou!!! [7:12] -Unread-

My eyes scanned the messages again, not leaving the blue screen until until my shin collided with the side of the coffee table. I hadn’t even realized I had started pacing again. I checked the texts I had sent to Akaashi as well, since I knew he was at that practice too, but I hadn’t gotten any responses from him either. Slipping my phone screen up onto the table I continued my pacing, not even processing when my finger nails found their way under my teeth, and how when they left my mouth to scratch at my neck or claw at my shirt, my teeth resorted to gnawing at my lip instead, tearing up the thin skin. All habits I was trying to kill but didn’t have enough brain power to focus on not doing them. My eyes constantly searched the driveway for the headlights of any car, any car at all, but they always came up with nothing. It was 7:24 when my phone struck with the sound of text, the bing of anticipation sent me diving for, and consequently almost dropping, my phone in an attempt to find out if it was Koutarou. It was!

-Read-

Im so sorry!! Yes practice did end up running late! But something else happened and I

wasn’t able to text you! I’m not mad about

anything I promise!! What happened is also

minor and nothing to worry about and I’ll explain when I get home in about ten

[7:21] minutes!! I’m so sorry!! -Read-

I sighed, relieved, the weight on my chest and in my head dissolved and I felt like I could finally breathe again. Though, as I came down from my anxiety rush, I became aware of a lot of things all at once. The first was a good deal of pain. From knocking my leg into a table and pacing for over an hour, to bitten lips and nails, and my scraped neck. I groaned, I need to get a better handle on this.

But that wasnt important. Koutarou was okay and on his way home! I waited at the window, feeling a bit like a dog waiting on its owner (that was a kink joke yes), and leaped to the front door when I saw his car in the driveway. Throwing open the door, I pulled him inside the second I could get my hands on him and pulled him through the doorway. The moment he was inside, I shoved myself into his arms in a tight hug, so glad he was okay. He returned the hug and held me tightly, I let out a shuddering breathe and he let out comforting sounds I sometimes use to stim. “Hey, hey, hey, I’m so sorry to have you worry, it was about Akaashi! We were running extra practice with a handful of the other guys and I literally had half a text to you written out when he a spike to the face! I was the only one left with a car so I drove him to hospital! I’m so sorry you are so worried you sent like 15 texts! I’m so-“ I cut him short with a hand over his mouth since that was one of the only ways to get him to stop talking. “Kou, it’s okay, I understand, it just really scared me ‘is all-“ he pried my hand off his face but held it in his own.

”I know, but that doesn’t mean I can’t apologize for it, whether I was in complete control of the situation or not! Which I was not, by the way, no control what-so-fucking-ever, I had four other guys in the car and one of them was bleeding and concussed, it was chaos!!” His eyes were wide and he went off on the stress of the situation and, for a moment, I forgot that it was 7:26 at night on a Thursday and I had a biology test in the morning, and that Koutarou just got home and I hadn’t even eaten yet and all the other things that werent right in the world. Everything was fine in that moment. But that ended when Koutarou took a good hard look at me. The redness and scratch marks on my neck, the bitten to bleeding finger nails, the small bruise forming on my shin, my blotchy face and my probably-way-too-red lips. He stopped dead in his words and I felt my eyebrows scrunch up.

“Whats wrong?-“

“You did the things again didn’t you?!” He sounded distressed and his broad shoulders sunk. Koutarous hands rubbed my shoulders as he stared into my eyes with the most concerned look I’d ever seen. He pulled me back to his chest again and promised it wouldn’t happen again.

7:46, Koutarou insisted on taking care of my ‘injuries’ since he was who I was having anxiety over anyway. I protested a little, but gave up when he gave me the baby-owl eyes.

First, he had wrapped bandaids on my fingers. Thankfully, they were black, and I made a comment on it was like a 2-second manicure just to hear him chuckle.

Then, Kou applied a moisturizer to my neck. “Kou, I can do this myself-“

”Nope! I insist!”

”I’m not a child-“

”Don’t care, I’m doing it so just shush up and let me do what I need to do!”

Next, he made me apply ice to my bruise even though it was tiny and caused by a damn two-foot-tall coffee table.

Lastly, he gave me chapstick. Again, wouldn’t let me do it myself, so I made several sarcastic remarks to make him blush, all working quite well. Koutarou had to tell me to stop giggling multiple times so I could stay still.

”Alright, are you done playing nurse?”

”Forgive me for wanting to take care of you!!” He stuck his tongue out at me with an audible “bleh!” and I cackled.

”You are forgiven, Nurse Bokuto.”

2. ~Tourette’s, Stimming~ My neck painfully popped when it jerked to the left, my tics had been bad all day and I no clue why. Could be exams, or the fucking toaster for all I knew. I hissed, rubbing at my neck and adjusting the water can I almost dropped, trying to continue about my Saturday.

It was obnoxious, really, having to me-proof everything around in case I end up kicking it, dropping it, or hitting it. My joints constantly cracking and snapping and jolting in the strangest ways at any given moment. Sometimes repeating what people say back at them in perfect mirror-like fashion. Though that last one can be kind of funny.

Clicking my toungue to make nice noises to try and stim the tic away, I returned back to my plants. I could feel them chuckling at me and, in that moment, I understood everything about Crowley from ‘Good Omens’.

I heard the door unlock in the other room and I put my can down as a precaution and peeked out of the doorway.

A moment later, Koutarou popped through the door after his morning jog. He called out; “Hey, hey, hey!” as a greeting.

I felt my hands go up behind my head and I thought Oh gods dammit, and then my jaw jutted forward in a very unattractive way and I repeated his phrase in the same manner as him, then immediately dropped, as my body decreed.

I groaned, looking up at him, who looked slightly bewildered at my little madness ritual. His hair laid flat on his head, he had chosen not to mess with it this morning, much to my delight, his amber eyes a little wide and his eyebrows raised. He was barely even in the house yet.

We just kind of stared at each other for a hot second before I awkwardly waved ‘hello’ and cracked a weird grin. He grinned back, his more pleasant than mine. Walking over, he opened his arms for a hug, and I accepted, since he wasn’t all that sweaty this time around, and it was the least I could do since he had to witness that.

Koutarou planted a kiss on the top of my head, cheering “Good morning!”

I muttered a response into his shirt.

“One of those days, huh?” I nodded.

“Coffee? I think we have muffins in the cabinet?” I nodded again and he lead me into the kitchen to set up some breakfast. It was 9:00 am on a Saturday after all. A weird Saturday, but watching Koutarou finagle through the cabinets, it couldn’t be that bad.

That is all for now! Have a wonderful day and I am going to sleep for three years see y’all (edited: June 18 2021, because I can’t spell)

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